2002-05-31 | 5:34 p.m.

corduroy licorice discovered that the chips were down at the bottom of the potato snack bag. his brother had scarfed most of the ruffles before he could intervene.

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for a funny take on the ill-defined end of a relationship, check out this entry by the remarkable genghis jon.

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thank you for giving my girly a-d-d-chick a warm welcome to diaryland. i knew you'd dig her as much as i do!

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this week, the transplendent malice shares her frustrations with hormonal hellaciousness:

"i could scream as loud as a grizzley and rip the seams out of the world's undies i'm so full of spit! ha ha! i somersault my own anger and cover it with hershey's and don't ever pretend it's not there. spotlight!"

and bad bagel etiquette:

"and bagel works, a place where i would think the employees understand the proper dressing of the things, not only undertoasted AND didn't spread the cream cheese onto the bagel itself, but there was a large blob of STRAWBERRY JAM on the side of the cream cheese. and if there is one cardinal rule about these things, it's that you never mix the sweet with savory. it's just not natural. i was horrified. it might as well have been blood."

dang, is she a delight and mighty outta sight!

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new music discovery that must be touted: patty griffin.

once again, the local public radio station kcrw has introduced me to great music. the station has a morning show called "morning becomes eclectic" that's hosted by nic harcourt. i swear, at least once a week i hear a song that compels me to pick up a new-to-me artist's cd. geez, cultivating good taste can get expensive!

so this patty girl's song comes on, and i think, "oh, another wistful female singer/songwriter. whatever." then the lyrics start to perk my ears up. such terrific imagery. such great thoughts. must have this cd! must go at lunchtime to purchase! so i did. the album is called 1000 kisses. acoustic ambrosia! oh, and the retro scrapbooky cover insert designed by traci goudie couldn't be more lovely. bonus!

and now i would like to share the lyrics from my favorite song on the album wit y'all. it reminds me of my grandma way far away:

"making pies" by patty griffin

it's not far
i can walk
down the block to table talk
close my eyes
make the pies all day
plastic cap on my hair
i used to mind, now i don't care
i used to mind, now i don't care
'cause i'm gray
did i show you this picture of my nephew
taken at his big birthday surprise
at my sister's house last sunday?
this is monday and i'm making pies
i'm making pies

thursday nights i go and type
down to the church for father mike
it gets me out and he ain't hard to like at all
jesus stares at me in my chair
with his big blue eyes and his honey brown hair
did i show you this picture of my sweetheart taken of us before the war?
of the greek and his italian girl
one sunday at the shore
we tied our ribbons to the fire escape
they were taken by the birds
who flew home to the country
as the bombs rained on the world

five a.m., here i am
walking the block to table talk
you could cry or die
or just make pies all day
i'm making pies

i don't know. those last three lines really got to me. the song perfectly fits into the questions that have been running through my mind lately, and gave me great comfort. as bombs rain on the world, i could cry or die, but i'm making pies.

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