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Friday, April 09, 2004
 
On Being a Fucking Mute
I’m totally half-assing this entire week . . . on my ‘blog, anyway. I could use the excuse that the quiz and/or burning CDs has taken a lot out of me. But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it? (Yes, it would.)

Wednesday, we had that aforementioned appointment to evaluate Mia for any communication difficulties. The 45-minute evaluation revealed that Mia is, in fact, developing normally. Her receptive and expressive communication skills are in the average range. She does a lot of pointing when she wants something. And a lot of her “talking” is starting to sound more like words. Words that are lisped, yet enthusiastic. And foreign.

This weekend is gonna be a blur of wedding shower-hosting, Easter egg-hunting, rock-and-roll posturing, and mix CD making. I’ll let you know how it goes on the other end.

And you lucky kids who will receive the Glory Hole mix, a dare: Play Peaches’ “Fuck the Pain Away” at your desk. I can’t get that song out of my head. Just ask Michelle. (Well, that song, and Adam Green’s “Bunnyranch.”)