100 Posts! Hooray, I can't shut up!

Random topics for today:

Animal Kingdom:
My home and property seems to be filled with animals that are killing other animals. My fish tank is home to a fiercely dominant cichlid who has killed no less than four (but more likely seven) other cichlids introduced to the tank. He seems to be allowing one submissive male to live, but he certainly does pick on the pour little guy a great deal. My dog killed a bird yesterday and left it in her water dish. I hope it wasn't one of the baby birds that lives in the carport pole. And finally, I allowed a common garden lizard to come into the house, because I am seriously sick of the insects that have come into the house to escape the heat. So far I've not seen a visible difference, but I can be patient.

Genetic Memory and Music:
I read once about a young Asian-American girl who, upon first hearing music from her family's country of origin, felt that "there was something inside of me that liked it--like it synchronized right with the pulsing of my blood through my body." (Laurence Yep, Child of the Owl) This is, of course, part of a work of fiction, but I recognize that feeling. When I hear the music of Mexico, there are two distinct feelings: personal memory and unfamiliar familiarity.

To explain: I heard certain types of Mexican music all the time growing up, because Grandma would put it on the record player. I have a personal memory of these sounds, and they motivate me do do certain things that Grandma always did while listening. Like make blankets, or mop.

But then, of course, there is that other part, the unfamiliar familiarity. I hear a song I've never heard before, but it sounds right, somehow, and my blood races, and I feel like I'm somewhere else, or even someONE else, but not in a way that is uncomfortable.

What I do find interesting is that it is not only Mexican music that makes me feel this way. Once in a while I will get that odd and wonderful sensation when I hear a traditional Native American song, or (if you can believe it) that one song you always hear at Bar Mitzvahs, the one that sounds almost as if a snake-charmer is part of the band. I wish I knew what that song is called so I could speak of it properly and not like some ignoramus who lives in a Christian vacuum. In any case, the sounds in that song feel good to me, like they make sense in a way I don't understand. It's not like that for me for most other ethnic music (and believe me, my experience is varied). But there's something about these songs, these sounds...they just feel so comfortable, like pulling on some long-forgotten favorite item of clothing and realizing that it still fits.

Of course, this could all be nonsense. It could just be that I like accordion music, or something. I do come from a family of musicians, so maybe what I'm feeling is more of a genetic predisposition to music in general. I really can't trace my family tree further back than 150 years, so who's to say I don't have these ethnic groups somewhere in my background?

FOOD!:
I spent part of my evening baking a Chocolate Cherry Torte (which takes FOREVER by the way) all because my father is getting pissy about whether or not the new oven is properly calibrated. I pop the cake pans in the oven and set the timer. At T minus 17 minutes, I go to read Gina her bedtime story. It takes forever. I get out of her room to find the timer at 14 minutes and rising. Yeah, that's right, the cake sat in the oven 14 extra minutes, and my husband (who was in that part of the house) didn't take it out of the oven because he "didn't hear it." I think maybe he "wasn't paying attention" because he can't stop playing his new video game. Well, at least the cake isn't burned, though it is a little dryer than I'd like. I'll have to tell my dad that the results of this baking test were inconclusive. Oh fooey. Now I'll have to bake another cake. *wink*

Funny Stuff:
For a good time, go check out cockeyed.com. Dude is hilarious and inventive, and I can't get enough of him. I feel inspired to invent new fun things to do every time I look at his website.

Britney Spears is pregnant again. Yankees everywhere can't understand why she won't wear shoes. Personally, I think it may have something to do with swollen ankles and the heat, but then I don't wear shoes all that much to begin with. Also: somebody please just take KFed to get snipped. The man needs to be removed from the gene pool already. He's like a younger version of my father-in-law (three wives, seven kids ages 1 to 28, only ten years to go before retirement age, and still hasn't decided now might be a good time to take the bullets out of the gun). Seriously, somebody explain to KFed that his best course of action is to stop producing heirs to his madness. While we're at it, will someone please send SuperNanny over to Britney's house? Because clearly she needs to be taught how to care for children, or at least how to choose a permanent nanny more carefully. Baby's seven months old and Family Services has investigated them TWICE. Anyone else might have had their baby taken away from them by now.

It's late, and I must get to sleep. Good night, all, and a special Happy Birthday to Nilo!