Good things and rainbows and... a heavy week
It's been awhile since i've blogged; I've been busy and the world is spinning and spitting rain every which way. I've got a little boy playing T-ball twice a week, a girl playing soccer, two (count 'em, two) cars with dead transmissions (and subsequently a dead bank account). Tuesday I stopped into the art bar to wish a fond farewell to MKE, a weekly i'll miss not just because they paid me on occassion to write for them, but because it was a wonderfully unpretentious arts and culture weekly in this town which often strives for pretentiousness (not realizing that pretentiousness isn't a GOOD thing.) It wasn't afraid of being excited about the things that make this city interesting, and it didn't try so damn hard to be important which is why it was valuable. Besides, how could you not love a rag that puts the Barrettes on the cover? I offered my best to the many writers and editors who were discussing what they were going to do with their severance package.
I was in the Michigan UP over the weekend, as I do every summer, land of crap cell phone coverage (and that's a GOOD thing), getting sunburn, swimming in a reservoir so laced with iron that the water is red, enjoying a big deep sky bursting with stars. I've already written here how much good this annual trip does my soul (how could it not?).
I'm on deadline at work, and I have the weight of two transmissions on my brain, and I have a triathlon to run this weekend. Tonight, I'll see my husband play guitar with Dr. Chow, despite the wealth of other excellent bands playing this weekend, not to mention Bastille Days, one of my favorite outdoor festivals. Part of the reason I'll be at Linneman's tonight is a rare appearance from Mr. Voot Warnings and his band, and a check in with the Peder Hedman Quartet. Yes, it's a night of milwaukee underground old school at Locust Street.
Some writers can write wonderful things during heavy weeks. (Perhaps because they are paid to do so.). I am not one of them. Or maybe because my troubles are simply mundane, things that will go away, things that are only money and time and I'll get back, which means theyr'e not very interesting to most people. I'll be back after the weekend, and hopefully this writer's block will have been lifted.
I was in the Michigan UP over the weekend, as I do every summer, land of crap cell phone coverage (and that's a GOOD thing), getting sunburn, swimming in a reservoir so laced with iron that the water is red, enjoying a big deep sky bursting with stars. I've already written here how much good this annual trip does my soul (how could it not?).
I'm on deadline at work, and I have the weight of two transmissions on my brain, and I have a triathlon to run this weekend. Tonight, I'll see my husband play guitar with Dr. Chow, despite the wealth of other excellent bands playing this weekend, not to mention Bastille Days, one of my favorite outdoor festivals. Part of the reason I'll be at Linneman's tonight is a rare appearance from Mr. Voot Warnings and his band, and a check in with the Peder Hedman Quartet. Yes, it's a night of milwaukee underground old school at Locust Street.
Some writers can write wonderful things during heavy weeks. (Perhaps because they are paid to do so.). I am not one of them. Or maybe because my troubles are simply mundane, things that will go away, things that are only money and time and I'll get back, which means theyr'e not very interesting to most people. I'll be back after the weekend, and hopefully this writer's block will have been lifted.
Comments