Morning morning. Another day of writing with this crappy bandaged hand. Aging. Surgeries. Life. Pain. Woo.

Craig said that the doctor may have strapped my index finger to my long/middle finger because they share a tendon and to that I say, uh oh. I hope I am not ruining my recovery with my rebandage here.

Bandcamp Friday. I want to buy some stuff. Though yesterday I got fucked by my daily search of my Discogs wantlist and four records showed up that never show up, and I had to buy them all. I am telling myself over and over that this never happens, it’s rare that even one “rare” record shows up — most of the things on my wantlist are easily-gotten newish stuff that is always available and I don’t buy. I am saving those for some giant bulk purchase someday when I hit the jackpot. But yesterday an old Labradford album, an old Bongwater album, an old Mogwai album and an old Boyd Rice album (I know, I know) all came available from four different sellers, all reasonably priced, and I just had to.

I tell myself that I used to go to record stores two or three times a week, buy that many records every week. BUT STILL.

And now it’s Bandcamp Friday. What should I buy. I am taking recommendations.

They have changed the formulation of my Zevia ginger ale. Annie has passed away and I have no one to talk to about this. I am verklempt. Do I like this new formulation? I don’t know, I don’t know. First we go to war with Iran and now they change my ginger ale flavor? No one can live at this speed.

Someone pointed out that there was a great Rumi/Rheumatologist joke waiting to be made when I showed Jane’s drawing of Huntrixx that she drew at the Rheumatologist. I did not catch that. Real softball, right there. That’s a good one. RUMITOLOGIST. If I ever need her to go to one again, we’ll call it that and she can dress as Rumi or something.

Man this edition is going to go nowhere.

While I’m at it, today’s Wordle was BULLSHIT.

Join the GMHHAY slack! Reply to this email and ask for an invite if you’re a human who likes chatting with other humans about topics such as these within!

We are listening to Bartees Strange this morning I like that guy he is very talented, should probably be bigger. He’s on 4AD. And I know it’s not, like, the 4AD of the heyday with Ivo running it and all but it’s still pretty cool to be on 4AD. I wonder how Ivo is doing. I wonder if he’s still in the Santa Fe area. I wonder if he’s happy. I wonder if he makes music. I wonder if he listens to music. I wonder if he bugs 4AD about their current direction. I suppose he probably does that about as much as I bug the Barbarian Group, huh. Dude has probably moved on. Well, Ivo. If you were on Substack I would violate my Substack ban for you. I would love to read, like, your gardening blog or something.

People you miss, people who disappear. Some days it hits me like a ton of bricks. I was thinking of my college friends: Jen and Adi and Mark and Hugh and Dennis and Beverly and Erica and Molly and Michell and all the ones that I was friends with before the internet. I am Facebook friends with a few of them, but have lost touch with a lot of them. People talk about college friends like they are your best friends. And I SORT OF get that from Nick and Jussi and Megan and Craig. We all went to the same college. But of them I only actually knew Craig in college. Nostalgia nostalgia it is hitting me a lot this week. I have been texting old friends I have fallen out of touch with for no reason. It is nice but going and visiting them would be better. I dream of a road trip, months long, visiting all my old friends across the country. Maybe I will take Jane.

I have gotten a lot better about nostalgia as I’ve gotten older but man sometimes it hits you like a ton of bricks.

So Chore House got invested with mice. Emma figured it out because she — and I do not know why she did this — sniffed at the vacuum tubes in the all and they smelled like death. She sleuthed it all out and they were getting into the tubes from a hole I didn’t even know was there, and then getting into the kitchen because apparently it had one of those “sweep into the vacuum” holes that I never knew was there. So they got into the pantry and ate everything and pooped everywhere and Emma cleaned it all up and she stuck a shop vac to the in-wall tubes and sucked the dead mouse out of the walls. She said it was very gross when there was a thump inside the vacuum.

She left it to me to empty out the vacuum. I deserve that.

This is all very recent — I changed the trash bag in the kitchen last weekend and it was fine but this week it was all chewed up. So, it happened fast. We caught it early. but… EW.

Emma is over there making Chore House safe and presentable because we are thinking, hoping — it’s still not final — that the girl scouts will use it as their clubhouse, because they are getting kicked out of their clubhouse. Wouldn’t that be cute? That would be so cute. Maybe eventually the studio will be done and they can start a band with 20 girls in it I am sure that would do well. What? A man can dream.

She also moved the bookshelf with all my knick knacks into my office, so it could be protected from the rambunctious Daisies. And got a white board. Place looks great. I AM VERY EXCITED my wife is taking an interest in Chore House again. She is annoyed because she didn’t want the extra obligation but also the girl loves cleaning and organizing and I love JOINT PROJECTS. I hope she keeps at it.

Was listening to “Wax and Wane” by the Cocteau Twins, singing along with the lyrics Renée Everhart jokingly sang in high school  — “the devil bunnies said to me Wax and Wane,” and decided I would check out what the internet thinks the lyrics are in the 21st century. The sites are divided: half of them say “the devil bites dirty wax and wane” and half say “the devil might steady wax and wane,” and I refuse to believe either of those are correct. Devil Bunnies is so much better.

Jane was lovely this morning and she was pretty good last night. She is staying up late. I think she might be getting less sleep than me. Is this okay for an eight year-old do they really do okay on seven, eight hours sleep? I mean, if she needed more sleep she’d get it, right? But she loves reading so much she just never goes to sleep. Emma is concerned.

BUT yesterday she got mean and cranky and she decided that the best thing to do in that circumstance was walk away, go to her room, climb into bed and nap. Yay emotional regulation! I am so proud of her.

Oh huh it only now occurred to me that maybe those two topics are related.

Man I forgot to go to a show last night I am so pissed. I even knew, I told Emma in the morning I was going, I just… forgot. Got wrapped up in home building Youtube. DAMN IT. I wanted to see Nothing and Violent Magic Orchestra! BOOOO.

No playlist today. I don’t have one ready. BUT Beggars Banquet’s archive series is still going strong and they restored and remastered a bunch of Bauhaus videos so hey, check this out instead:

Have a a lovely weekend.