Itinerantdaughter's Blog

I am planning to propose to A&E (or maybe I’ll go out of pity to TLC first because they always get A&E’s sloppy seconds) a television show a la Hoarders and Intervention but in which the camera follows around for a few days two hardworking folks who make some mistakes, sure, cause they’re human but for the most part are fighting the good fight and trying to be honest people/good parents/nonviolent beings/contributing members of society/decent employees/et al and at the end, there’s a little intervention during which the people in their lives come together to tell them, “Hey, you know what?  You’re pretty great.  Life is tough, I know, but you’re doing okay, and you deserve some slack!”  Then the “interventionist” whisks them away in a white minivan to take them to the airport where they fly off to Malibu or Arizona or somewhere else warm and dry to a spa/self-discovery retreat/private island where they are given fresh meals and early bedtimes and yoga classes galore.

Well done, normal people.  Well done.

Once again, I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

Perusing my father’s iTunes, I see a bar at the side that says you can follow Bob Marley on Twitter (@bobmarley.)  He has 118,462 followers.  If this twitter account is actually owned by Bob Marley and he’s tweeting from the Great Beyond, I may consider getting myself an account.

This morning I came in to work to find a barrage of emails from WordPress telling me that all these people with French names “liked” my blog post.  I’ve mentioned this before and it’ll sound just as ridiculous this time around, but I’m not very good with technology –– I don’t exactly know what it means to “like” something (I think you just press a button?), I’ve never had a Facebook account, and I still am afraid of “apps” because I can’t quite untangle the philosophical ramifications of little things that do things for you.  Anyway, all these French people seem to be on something called Gravatar, which is a mystery to me, too.  Gravatar seems to think all these French people are based in Mcalester, Oklahoma, and when I click to see their profiles, all I get is one big symbol and their name.  I’m sure I could poke around and find out more about them (WordPress gave me a little guilt trip about it –– they liked my stuff, maybe I would “like” theirs?) but see again confession of ridiculousness.

Anyway, thanks, French people!  I’ve always enjoyed your cheese and wine!

THIS SUNDAY, August 14, at 11:00 AM, The Committee to Save the Chelsea Hotel will march into the front lobby outfitted with suitcases full of ridiculous clothing, bubbles, books, whiskey, marijuana, blankets, paint, canvases, kittens, snacks, bouncy balls, occult talismans, flashlights, chess sets, and anything that plays music (from bongos to ipods with speakers.)  They will proceed to bust into guest rooms (which ones are guest rooms and which belong to permanent tenants can be determined by the door or otherwise by asking the protest leader, ID), make themselves comfortable, and then barricade themselves inside.  Whenever possible, new residents are encouraged to sneak out from their rooms in the night and hang things they’ve made on the wall.  Protestors are committed to remaining in their rooms until forcibly removed.  For that reason, we recommend anyone who plans to join us in this endeavor to pack appropriately, eat a large (but not sedating) meal before the siege, and prepare to bring their a-game.

If you would like to join us in our attempt to save the Chelsea, please email itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com, and we will respond with the location where we will meet on Sunday to gather before the March.

Fasten your seatbelts, Chetrit family.  It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

If anyone works with little kids, can you answer this question for me?  When I was in elementary school, we were often told to sit “Indian-style.”  Given that people are really fucking sensitive about stereotypes and incorrect labels for different ethnicities these days, has the term changed?  And if so, what is it now?  Cross-legged?  Lotus-style?  God forbid, “Native American-style”?  That’s a mouthful for a kindergartener.

A la The Guardian‘s “Digested Read”:

New York Times article “Who Succumbs to Addiction, and Who is Unscathed?”

Don’t bother reading it.  Let me give you the answer: nobody has any fucking idea.

You know what galls me to no end?  The A&E show Storage Wars.  All three faithful readers of this blog will know from my e-life (and probably my personal life, as they are my friends, and my dad) that I am a big fan of A&E vicarious misery reality shows (i.e. Hoarders and Intervention, and even Relapse.)  Now, most everyone in the WORLD knows that reality TV shows exist (and in fact most TV shows in general) to allow us to live, if only for half an hour, the INTERESTING life of someone else (heroin addiction, no matter what anyone says, is interesting because it’s inherently dramatic) in order to make us FORGET about our own BORING lives.  So why FUCK with the formula and have a reality show about something as painfully mind-numbing as PERSONAL STORAGE?!  If that is more exciting than us than our daily grinds, then we’re in bigger trouble than we thought.

I’ve never used the “stickie” program in my life (I use real post-its, usually) but I accidentally hit the symbol on the dashboard (wow, I do NOT know computer terminology at ALL, it’s pretty embarrassing) and three stickies popped up.  Two were boring scheduling things, and one just had this quote on it:

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

Pippa Middleton looks like Robin Tunney circa The Craft.  Who’s with me?