(Looking for the 8/13 Open Thread? Go here).
I should post something. I really should. I have tried and mostly managed to do this blogging thingamajiggie on the daily, and now I actually have a fairly regular group of readers and… I really should post.
But right now, In My Head you will find a whole lotta empty. Exhaustion, and empty. Well, empty-ish. Certainly nothing I could spin out into an entire post (I already tried).
What is In My Head right now? A bit of this, a smidge of that.
Like: I’m thinking about applying for an internship at NPR’s Chicago affiliate, WBEZ. By which I mean: I have decided to apply, and now I just have to find the courage and powers of concentration to answer the essay questions. If accepted, I suspect I will be the oldest radio intern in the history of radio. I’m hoping that will be a point in my favor.
Also: I’m loving my Twitter feed today – I follow some Muslims, who follow other Muslims, and between the tweets and re-tweets, I’m getting this genuine, unfiltered little glimpse into the excitement and joy surrounding the start of Ramadan. This one tweets heart-felt admonitions to remember the social justice side to the month; that one encourages her fellow fasters to stay strong; this one over here references the cultural aspect of the start of fasting; that one over there just sounds all giddy. It’s fascinating and fun and I’m loving it! Ahhh, Twitter.
Also, too: How strange is it to be driving your nearly-11 year old son and his friends to the drop off point for their first ever Jewish sleep-away camp — and find yourself singing the following lyrics along with them?
I’m the son of rage and love
The Jesus of Suburbia
From the bible of “none of the above”
On a steady diet of soda pop and Ritalin
No one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell
At least the ones I got away with.
Yeahhhh…. Kind of strange. Kind of awesome! Also strange: Other Little Boy #1 actually got to see American Idiot on Broadway!! So I’m jealous of an 11 year old.
Ok, that’s it. That and the exhaustion. And all kinds of sad thoughts about Pakistani floods and Chinese mudslides and Palestinian desperation and Russian fires and the impact of the oil spill on the reproductive systems of the marine life of the Gulf and… and so I’ll stop. And leave you with my man Billy Joe, and his pals Tre Cool and Mike Dirnt, when they were in a slightly less rage-fueled mood. And go to sleep.