The skin gets tired...

This blog ain't about anything at all. But I needed a pick me up, so I shall write to you, friends.

Damn, the animals are needy this morning. Sebastian (the cat) promptly wakes me up at 8:15 a.m. every morning. If I don't get up, there is plaintive meow-related hell-to-pay. Perhaps some finger-nibbling. This morning was filled with plaintive I'm-obviously-in-a-lot-of-soul-pain meowing from down the hall. (you know.. so I have to get up)

Pickles (the dog) asks to either be pet, or let out, by scratching at me.

Thank goodness that they are both under 20 lbs, for if they were Great Dane or small Mountain Cat sized, I'd be bleeding and beaten.

Spring in MN is the season of poop. The poop lies hidden underneath the snow, sleeping, for months - - now it is everywhere. Poop wants to get inside the house, to join it's friends in the litterbox. You have to Gene Kelly dance from the garage to the house. Poop.

Things:

- Saw Pocohontas County at the 331 with dear friends Josh & Sue last night. I am not the world's biggest bluegrass fan, but sweet christ, they're adorable. Four or so young guys, and one man, probably in his 70's. Certainly in a cowboy hat. What's their story? Did the young guys discover the old guy and ask him to teach them the ways of old timey music, or did the old guy descend from the heavens and pass them each a fiddle, banjo and stand up bass?

Snark moment: Despite my rahrah of this band, do tribal tattoo's go with banjo pickin'? The cool and hip part of me says "of course!". The grumpy and old part of me thinks it looks dumb, and accuses banjo-poser-ing, that you're abusing the dork-coolness of the instrument. Because you might have gotten the tattoos before you got the banjo. Because you should, in my mind, be secretly playing a didgeridoo instead.

But I'm also a hater, and dude could play the banjo pretty damn well. See, you can have big cuffy arm tattoo's and play the banjo. Just like you can wear a bonnet and know how to work a chainsaw. The world has room for all of this.

See, I am fully of hate-y judgement - - you kids these days! I will happily go see them again, unless they find this blog, and kick me out.

- Saw "Green Zone" with Josh & Sue too, as Sue wanted to see some big 'splosion movie. There was MUCH 'splosion! Much grainy 'splosion.

Spoiler:

a) Greg Kineer started the Iraq war.
b) Matt Damon let the truth be known.
c) If you talk in sound clips, it's a war movie.
d) The asshole Special Forces guy looked like Bono! Could this have been ironic?

(oh.. It's Jason Isaacs with a handlebar. Lucius Malfoy with dark hair. hrm. Never mind. That's two Harry Potter actors in this film, the other being the excellent Brendan Gleeson. Holy crap - - Matt Damon is Harry Potter! Greg Kinneer is Voldemort! .. now the film makes sense. Got it.)

That was my Monday. I am very lucky. I also (kinda) ran around a lake! W00t! First (kinda) lake running of the season.

Soon, trips to St. Cloud to perform some heavy Arthur Miller will be happening. But first, there's 2nd and 3rd graders to wrangle, and pray that their parents are cool. (Which they are, admittedly). Let us pray, instead, that I have my act together for class this afternoon. It'll be a trip.

I'm tired and I'm a bit beat, but I'm so proud of some incredible people. People are doing amazing things right now, for themselves, personally. I'm amazed, grateful and proud.

Onward.