12:51 p.m.||||2001-11-13

To launder, not to launder - that is - emo,moc?
Quite possibly my favorite Led Zeppelin song of all time

That, after a nap and a half (the boy's) of prowling here in the end-of-time, made me happy. You CAN hear a song if you stare hard enough at the wurds. I used to play that song over and over, in the afternoon, drinking coffee, typing up short shorts. In the evening, drinking liquor, getting ready for shows. Planted in the living room, singing soulfully at the top of my lungs (At first I typed "longs", heehee)- "yoouu'rree time is gonna cooommmeee" - bairnarebairbairbuhbainr! That's the guitar part...I wish I owned the farking album.

So...when I was in Unemployed, I came across the emo/MOC debate a second time...I followed the trail created by Heckafresh - who must or might be thinking I'm a loony stalker type by now, or not, but even his g-book rules...and I learned that the explanation for the pixie, bang-laden, cuts beside the thickish frames for the un-nearsighted, is a result of this thing called emo. What is this thing called emo, fans of? Well, I certainly assumed Emo Philips. That Emo? I'm old enough to not be able to remember where I last saw him, but I do remember...him. And his haircut. A haircut I would had except I have a high forehead and a whorl of uncontrollable cow-lick where one would try to assemble said bangs...can...NOT...have...bangs. And the glasses I did have, until I lost them - see previous episodes. Good thing I'm back to being a full-time dork. Lately, with the hair, I'm going for a non-blonde Grace Kelley thing - good fucking luck.

And the Makeout Club? No idea, except unemployed covers the inanity with complete hilarity. The two worst, as usual, were from Northwest Ohio. Poor lame Ohio. O.K. That's un-fair...but I do suffer from demographic envy - Hellllloooo Portland! Actually, I have no clue. I've lived in Iowa, camped in Arizona, and that's the extent of my experience with the great West.

I was thinking about piling baby and clothes in stroller and heading around the corner to the dingy, ghetto laundromat planted there. But, because I leave the house an average of two days per week, the thought of outside makes me feel nauseated. That's bad, huh?

Worldgurltalked in her last - I think, goin' there next - entry about her love for her son. A kind of love that is different and surpassses any other. I appreciated her words so much because I often find myself speechless in the face of the love I feel for my chile. It's the kind of thing people with children, including our own parents, tell us, threaten us with..."you'll see, when you have kids". And you arrive, and they're right. I mean, by "threaten", that my own parents used to lord their love over me in a "do as I say, not as I do" - sort of way...I never used to think they had pure, overwhelming love for me, certainly not unconditional, but they do/did. In many ways my committment is to bring into my son's experience the love I feel...in a demonstrable way. My dad loved me, I know, but I had a hard time feeling it, because he had a hard time showing me. A friend once told me that when you have a baby, suddenly a lot of the murky shit your parents did makes sense - for better or worse. I can not understand not loving your child, although I know that overwhelming emotion is hard to handle much less give voice to...especially when you have experienced abuse. Again - rambling! I asked Julio the other day if he thinks we are doomed to repeat our parents mistakes and he said absolutely not. He's usually kinda pessimistic, so that made me feel good. Because, God help me if I should recreate anything from the negative part of my frightening little childhood. It sickens me to wonder...on the other hand I have a pretty good grasp on the enormity of shaping this new person. Who loves me. Whose eyes seek me and brighten every time at the sight of me. I swear...his baby love has reshaped and redeemed me. Ah - save it for the brith story, eh?

This might be two-entry day, 'sais pas. I had some pictures to post of our nicenesses but that means Shutterfly, and that means a good hour. So. I so wish I owned some Led Zeppelin. Oh well. When you see me next, ask did I, clean my apartment? Take a shower? Turn off the computer? Leave the house?

Here, have some....
HECKAFRESH, WORLDGURL, ARRIYAH, WHIPPLE, THREE-WISHES, SUNDAEBRAIN, RAVENGLITTER, DEAD-DOG, CARONBLOCKS, MILKMONKEY, CITIZENJANE,