Bonny, I'm so sorry for your loss. Never was a dog so loved and cared for and noodged to learn when he'd rather not. There's no relief for the void, at least for a while. But there will be, eventually. All good wished for you, meanwhile.

On another note: Yay Tim! Yay clear! And yay new neicelet!

I’m sorry, Bonny.

My condolences to you Bonny.

I’m so sorry, Bonny. Lots of ~ma to you.

ltc is telling everyone in karate class that I let her watch a pg-13 movie about murder last night. We watched Chicago. Mother of the year right here. Disclaimer: she was not traumatized at all and was already very familiar with The Cell Block Tango.

Hahah PG13 movie about murder being Chicago is not the first thing that would’ve sprung to mind, no!

no. There were so many cheesy "ripped from the headlines" movies when I was her age that I kind of...automatically thought about them.(i've got scars, probably not from that, though) My mom and I might choose Serpico as our girlie movie date...Chicago might have been a step up.(Although Serpico is deservedly a modern classic, the scenes where he doesn't get backup are quite traumatic and not something to see till you are at least a putative adult.)

The girl is obsessed with musicals. So my evil plan to raise a daughter who wants to go to musicals with me is proceeding nicely. Unfortunately I forgot to create an evil plan for being able to afford to take her to all the musicals she wants to see.

Funding is often a wrinkle in all but the most evil Evil Plans.(Those fuckers just keep having money that they couldn't earn with the force of their odious personalities.) Today is going to kind of end up like Xmas in February--we ate the last Christmas tamales and I have a writing-craft lecture this afternoon that I paid for with gift money---it's a whole year's series from One Story...some Buffistas who write should check them out. I think today's is about giving characters agency in a world where you don't have control. or something like that, where maybe I could teach the damn class, but, hey, it's a reason to bust out my silver earrings.

musicals

When I was in 8th grade, the school play that year was West Side Story. It was a small school, K-12 totaled about 400 kids, so the casting was not very selective. I was a Shark.

I didn't understand some of the lyrics we were singing. Dad had to explain to me about the various racial and ethnic epithets. He also had to explain the term, "social disease" from the song "Officer Krupke."

When you’re a Jet you’re a Jet all the way, I guess it’s different for Sharks