The Season 2 opener of "Mad Men" this past Sunday had our dapper Don Draper reading Frank O'Hara's poetry collection "Meditations in an Emergency." According to the Freakonomics blog, "Meditations" jumped up on Amazon.com's sales ranking from number 15,565 to 161. Television and the arts: hand in hand, man.

There was an O'Hara poem that I fell in love with during a poetry class in college:

SONG

I am stuck in traffic in a taxicab
which is typical
and not just of modern life

mud clambers up the trellis of my nerves
must lovers of Eros end up with Venus
muss es sein? es muss nicht sein, I tell you

how I hate disease, it's like worrying
that comes true
and it simply must not be able to happen

in a world where you are possible
my love
nothing can go wrong for us, tell me

The German translates as: Must it be- it must not be. I'm not sure what the significance of German is here, but I love the line about disease and worrying.

Everyone in my family likes poetry. Just the other day, my mother came over to my house with a guitar and wrote a song on the spot. It was actually rather catchy. Here's how it went:

Why don't you...
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch,
Get off the couch!

She said the genius about this song was that it could work with any command at all. Open the door, grill up a steak, wipe your damn nose, go fuck yourself. Go ahead. Try it!

Things are pretty dull around here, and so I made a muxtape. The whole thing is obviously a racket- you upload your songs, and then Amazon makes money when somebody decides to buy them. And, me, what do I get? I don't know, I guess I killed 30 minutes or so.

• Psychedelic Furs - Love My Way
• Arcade Fire - No Cars Go
• Wallis Bird - Counting To Sleep
• Rocky Votolato - White Daisy Passing
• Radiohead - Electioneering
• Bloc Party - Flux
• Neil Young - Alabama
• Cat Power - Metal Heart
• Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal
• Violent Femmes - Kiss Off
• The Pretenders - Night In My Veins
• Weezer - Pork and Beans

These are the songs that I've been listening to nonstop. It's important for me to remember which songs I love in which part of my life, and I usually do. There are so many songs that I can't listen to anymore for fear of feeling that too-familiar twinge in the gut- and then there are songs that bring back such beautiful times that I practically overdose on them, hitting the back arrow again and again until my thumb aches.

Rediscovering the older songs poses a logistical problem. My memories will surely overlap as I age. Until recently, "Kiss Off" was a daytime VF show with Jason at the World, during a sparsely attended festival of sorts. Now it will be shaken well with the strange and wacky summer of '08, when I made the very firm decision to not attend my high school reunion because, at long last, I just don't care.

I don't know why we thought this would be a good idea, but it was. I was off work on Monday, so my neighbor H-Dubs and I spent a good deal of the afternoon hanging out, walking over to the home models in our subdivision, then sitting and chatting in my kitchen. Later, after dinner, we hung out a bit outdoors, and we got to talking about things we used to create and write in grade school, high school, etc. H-Dubs ran inside and brought out the AWESOMEST homemade paper doll house (you should have seen the detail on this paper plate masterpiece!) along with a few stories and stuff from the days of yore, and then I went inside and got out all of my old journals and stuff that my mother had brought over after we'd moved in. We eventually had to move the Reading Party indoors (it's pretty buggy in our neck of the woods), and we had a jolly good time just sharing (aww) and caring (aww). It made me think of some of the times during my teenage years when various friends and I would spend time showing off writings and just talking about "feelings" and stuff. You don't do alot of that after a certain age. And the evening kind of solidified the friendship that H-Dubs and I have been forming since we each moved into our respective sides of the wall. I think it may have been kismet that we became neighbors. The amount of things that we have in common is, while not quite staggering, kind of astonishing. At least too many to be entirely coincidental, you know?

Here's to hoping that we don't ever have a big fight or falling out, because, lord, wouldn't that be awkward? I wonder if they sell twenty foot high fences?

1) I finally got a hair-cut. I told the hair stylist right off the bat that I've been cutting my own hair- I figure full disclosure was the way to go instead of having to deal with carefully phrased questions on what kind of "look" I was trying to achieve with my old, um, "layers." Anyways, I figured that as long as I was paying her, I might as well get my money's worth. I had so much hair cut off that I am no longer capable of tying it back into a ponytail or or a bun. It's just barely chin-length, and, if you don't mind me saying so, I think the new cut makes me look rather fetching. If not slightly uncomfortable.

2) I think it was Time-Out Chicago that called AMC's "Mad Men" "the best show you're not watching." They were right on both accounts; I wasn't watching it, but now that I am, it really is pretty good. The story and the characters are both pretty good, but I think the best thing about "Mad Men" is that it takes place in 1960 (so far), and there's a lot of subtle humor based on the perspective of someone watching it from the present. Not so much that it's annoying or gimmicky- it's really just the perfect amount. For instance, pregnant women smoke, mothers don't get upset when their kids put plastic dry cleaning bags over their head, the notion of a "mortgage" to pay for a house is rather novel, and Dick Nixon is a shoe-in for president. Chauvinism runs rampant, and the men drink scotch in their office while listening to records. Of course, everybody smokes everywhere. Anyway, the full first season is On Demand if you have Comcast, and the second season begins soon. Get with it.

3) I jacked up my back pretty good yesterday. I asked MV to borrow her brush, and she handed me the tiniest, pinkest little brush in existence. I'm pretty sure it's technically a Barbie brush. So I really had to work to use the little brush, and in reaching up and back, I caused a spasm to rip through me, and I haven't been able to properly turn my neck to the left since. Imagine- all because of a doll brush. Thankfully, I'm feeling okay enough to drive downtown tonight to see my BFF- although, hopefully she'll understand if I'm a tad bit tilted. Damn that little brush!

4) I think I've accepted gas prices being so high. At the very least, I take great satisfaction in smirking at the Hummer drivers while I cruise past them in my little car that has averaged NO LESS than 30 miles per gallon since I bought it (even city driving, whee!) and as far up there as 37. I'm still trying to figure out a way to eek an average of 40 mpg out of her. Time to start planning all of my routes so that I only drive downhill. Anyway, despite the doom and gloom, I'm starting to feel good might come out of this. Carmakers will make more fuel-efficient vehicles, we'll learn to better manage our resources and combine trips, walk, etc, and some employers are even going down to four day work weeks. Granted, the country's in pretty awful shape right now, but I think that change is on the horizon, and I'm excited. Oh, and by the by, vote for Barack!

We went with the neighbors and their friends on a pontoon boat on Saturday. The waves on the little lake rocked the fuck out of this boat, and hours later I was seasick in my bathroom, the tiles rushing up to greet me and dropping back to scare me. I spent Saturday night sick on the couch, and then Sunday we went to my parents and sat outside on their deck. I was horribly uncomfortable in the heat, and, to make things worse, the house was like an oven. No air conditioning, no rest for the weary. So we cut our visit short so that I could go home and lay down in my dark living room. I feel a little guilty about it, but my parents of all people should know how finicky I get about the heat, the sun, the outdoors. The nausea.

We did meet the cat and of course did not take it. I actually feel horribly bad for my mother. She really wants to keep this adorable little thing, and my sister is making her get rid of it. My mother wanted to give my sister $500 as a bribe to let her keep the cat. My sister refused. Fake allergies be damned, I'd take the $500 any day. Let my mother keep the damn cat. It clearly makes her very happy, and so very few things in life are able to do this. You should see the little obstacle course my mother set up for the kitten in the basement. She even set up a big plush dog at one end of the "course" for a joke. Get it, cat? Ha ha ha.

Seriously, it breaks my heart that she has to get rid of this cat. You should have seen my mother holding and playing with this thing. I'm pretty sure that she loves this cat more than she's ever loved any human being, ever. I'll admit, it is pretty cute.

So my mom got a kitten from a woman that she works with. She's keeping it in a box in the basement, and my sister is pretty certain that she's not feeding the thing enough. My sister, however, refuses to go near the cat. She claims she's allergic, and that either the cat goes or she goes. She hasn't even looked at the poor little guy yet. Frankly, I think my mom should be allowed to keep the cat, but my sister is putting her foot down. So my mom will give the cat back to the woman next week unless... unless... Chris and I take him. I don't know what to do. Part of me really wants a cat, but the other part of me doesn't want to deal with the expenses, the trips to the vet, the issues of whether or not declawing an animal is human or inhumane. I'd be a fabulous mother, wouldn't I? On the one hand, a baby is cute- on the other hand, I hear that children need milk, love, and attention. And who has time for THAT?

I'd have to rename the cat, first off. Mom's calling it "Meow Meow," which is the worst name ever. It would be like calling a dog "Woof Woof" or an infant "Poop Poop." If I do take the little guy, I already have three new names picked out: Taco Cat, Time Cat, and So and So. I think these are all great names for a cat- much more sane than "Meow Meow," right? I am, however, mildly concerned about the psychological damage that may result from renaming a creature. How would I like it if I went by Jackie for a period of time and then some idiot decided to change Jackie to Sylvia, with what would seem to be little or no warning? I guess it's different for humans. Like, I'd have to spend a day at the DMV and the Social Security office to become Sylvia- I'd have to get new business cards, send out a mass email to my friends, get all new credit cards embossed. A cat would have to inform only one or two other cat friends, tops, of the name change. And I'm assuming, what with living in a box in the basement, that this particlar cat has had little opportunity to form any meaningful friendships.

So, I'm going to my parents' house on Sunday, incidentally, and I'm going to check on the little guy and possibly make a game time decision. Do I open my heart and home to one of God's adorable creatures- or do I keep those doors firmly shut and deadlocked?

Anyhow, one last note. My mother is going to play a joke on my grandmother. She thinks it will be HYSTERICAL. She's going to bring "Meow Meow" (Time Cat) to my grandmother's house and pretend like she got the cat for her as a gift. Then, at a time yet to be determined, she's going to shout, "Just kidding!" and take the cat back. Oh, the merriment that will ensue. I'm not sure what part of this is hysterical except maybe for the part in which this whole soul-crushing plan is deemed hysterical in the first place.

Hang in there, So and So. One way or another, you won't be there much longer.