friday’s list for 29 june 2007.

Fridays mean StoryCorps segments on NPR (yeah, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a huge NPR fan/nerd). Sometimes if I miss the segment on the radio, I’ll go and read the story on their website. It’s good, but not nearly as satisfying because you can’t hear the subjects’ voices. The stories are almost always touching, and at the very least, interesting. So here you go:

Five of My Favorite StoryCorps Stories:

Happy Friday.

brain pain.

pill.gif

I’m in the midst of another great drug switcheroo. The Zoloft I started taking in early April has proven to be not quite the ticket. After a visit to my doctor, we’ve decided to taper me off the Z and start me on Wellbutrin. I’m not even on the Wellbutrin yet, but cutting back on the Zoloft hurts my head. No, really, I have super mental clarity, but I can’t use it because my head hurts so bad it feels like elves are turning my brain into a kebab.

Like I said, will elaborate on the issue of being mental a bit more later, but right now I have to quit typing, because the keyboard clicky-clack hurts my head.

numbers update.

Wow. Did you know only 39% of the population think that gay people are “born that way” and can’t change it? And those numbers are up from 13% in 1977.  Are people really that uninformed?

Also, 63% of the US is ready to start withdrawing troops from Iraq. Four years later. After pretty much no progress whatsoever.

Additionally, 97% of the world thought Paris Hilton looked better when she was released from prison yesterday than she has in a long time. Okay, I made that up, but it’s kinda true, don’t you think? She looked well-rested and healthy.

Wait, did I just blog about Paris Hilton?

a show of hands, please.

How many people were listening to NPR this morning around 8:20 EST and subsequently got “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” stuck in your head?

par for the course.

kfun.jpg

 I know I said last week that Scott would be blogging occasionally here on Mater Facit, but I’m not sure exactly when that’s going to start… mostly because he has the plague. He’s got the same killer stomach flu I had last week, and he’s not doing anything that doesn’t involve sleeping or the toilet.

So in an effort to avoid him and his illness, Kya and I went out last night. Our typical evening at home consists of cooking dinner, playing outside, maybe watching a movie, and because she visits her dad on the weekends, it’s rare that she and I actually get some extracurricular quality fun time. We went out for pizza and chocolate cake at Bucceto’s, then played a round of putt-putt. She kicked my ass, but mostly because she employed some rather sneaky putt-putt techniques. After that, we went to Goodwill where I picked up a skirt and Kya chose a mouse doll that she calls Mrs. Brisby, after one of her favorite movies, The Secret of NIMH.

number one dad.

me_n_dad1.jpg

Hi Dad,

I hope you don’t mind that I’ve put some pictures of you on the Internet. And if you do, too late. Hey, at least you’re not the one wearing footie pajamas.

So after you read this post, you’ll probably read some of the rest of the stuff on this blog and you’ll sigh in exasperation. I can hear it already. You’ll wonder how I ever turned out the way I did – tattooed, a bit foul-mouthed, and, most significantly, not a Republican. Oh, and a fan of Yoko Ono. Ha.

I hope you don’t think it’s all that bad. A lot of your good qualities you have shared with me. For instance, you’re the reason I like Billy Joel, Queen, and various other bastions of classic rock. Also, because of you, I love black-and-white movies, the sound of baseball games on the radio, mid-20th century history, and lemon-lime Gatorade (it reminds me of playing at Gaiser Park in the summertime).

You’ve taught me a lot me a lot, too – and not just how to use a grill, start a lawnmower, ride a bicycle, and operate a record player, although those things are important. You taught me the importance of being kind, patient, and forgiving. And yes, you taught most of these things by example. Towards me. Because I was (and still am) a bit of a patience-trying oldest child. However, in my defense, I maintain that I could have been worse. And at least when I was speeding back home on Highway 50 way past my curfew, I was listening to Boston.

I could not have possibly ended up with a better father. You’re a wonderful person that everyone likes and respects. You’re a strong man and a gentle human being. You’re endlessly supportive and a lot of fun. And you’ve helped raised four pretty awesome kids who can all claim that you’ve been a great and positive influence in their lives.

So thank you, Dad, for everything you’ve done – the big things as well as the little. Thank you for merely rolling your eyes when you could have yelled. Thank you for your toy-assemblage talents that were put to use every birthday and Christmas. Thank you for stopping at the gas station so that I could by candy before you took me to school. Thank you for letting me raid your closet in search of “vintage” t-shirts when I was thirteen. Thank you for not being too disappointed when it was revealed that I was a huge klutz who would simply never play basketball. Thank you for teaching me how to drive without having a heart attack. Thank you for concealing a lot of your disapproval for the guys I brought home and the clothes I wore. Thank you for leaving the porch light on. But mostly, thank you for being steady and understanding as I continue figure life out. I think I appreciate that the most.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you, and I’m proud to be your daughter.

-jenn(y)

me_n_dad2.jpg