the stuff tuesdays are made of

Of course, first of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JERRY! Try not to spend this one sleeping naked in the bathroom.

Because Ms Lauren is always raving about Derrick Jensen, I had a copy of The Culture of Make Believe transferred to my library branch. Holy balls is that thing thick! I'm going to have to renew that sucka eight times. First I have to finish Promiscuities.

I taught swim lessons today for the first time in four years. It was rough, not so much that it went badly, but that I'm not used to little little kids and water and trying to keep them from drowning and teaching them to blow bubbles all at the same time. I'm exhausted.

Too lazy to link to it right now, but a user on livejournal is real-life meming by requesting mixed CDs of all women artists, inspired by the March for Women's Lives. I'm tearing through my collection now, trying to come up with a theme (besides the fact that they are chicas). It's proving more difficult than I thought it would, as my tastes are rather eclectic and the women represent that. Do I do a folk/rock CD? A soul/R&B/jazz dealie? Punk/indie? Or just mash them all together and theme it by song or topic?

Speaking of CDs, I'd forgotten how reasonably priced the albums at Circuit City are. I got Fever To Tell (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) for a measely $10 and the Donnas new album, Spend the Night, for $12. Hurray!

Totally braindead from the water and sun and little screaming children. I must tear myself away from this utterly pointless blog now. Now.