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About Me
- dada
- Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing. I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer. And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
Blog Archive
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2007
(229)
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July
(15)
- Not exactly "My Dinner with Andre"
- Somewhere, beyond the sea...
- Happy birthday!
- Feeding time
- Permanent record
- Six degrees of Samson
- Happy Feet, Unhappy Fashionistas
- Overheard
- Weighing in
- Big Brother is Watching
- Mad Dogs, Englishmen, and Our Family
- Aeropostale
- Happy birthday, America
- Baba O'Samson
- Food and drink
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July
(15)
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