There's a world out there, beyond white bean baby purees and buying sixth different sippy cups (Playtex? Nuby? Born Free? Sigg? Foogoo? Klean Kanteen?)---because he may just learn to drink from one of them---and after spending $85 on a babysitter I entered it, timidly, with trepidation. Of course, I had nothing to wear and my hair was in its usual sloppy ponytail. But I did it. I stood close to a jet engine at the Civic Auditorium last night and received the sonic onslaught that is My Bloody Valentine. It was divine. My ears are still ringing. With pain and with delight.
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