If you scroll down, you will see pictures of the new, beloved puppy. As you will see, because none of you stepped up, I had to talk myself out of two dogs all by myself. They were cute and they were wonderful, but the idea of training two dogs slightly terrified me. I had visions of being overwhelmed and outnumbered not only by little boys, and not only by felines, but also of being overwhelmed by two energetic and cute little dogs.
There were two families lined up at the shelter just begging for one of those dogs, so we told a very grateful couple that they could have the lighter of the two dogs. Our dog is a little redder, and we also noticed that of the pair, ours was the one who didn't bark, and in the six and a half hours of dog ownership I have heard her bark only once. A short little bark at that.
She is in the living room with Dereck, but as you might have surmised from these pictures, she came with us to the baseball game (she is great in the car) and the kids loved her.
But they and we cannot figure out a name. Karl says just to wait and let the name present itself, and of course we will, but I thought I'd also put it out there for the blogging community.
Here are the names we like so far:
Goldie
Sandy
Sadie
Sahara
Ginger
Gracie
Cinnabon
Savannah
The children are fighting vehemently between Goldie and Sandy.
What names are we missing? When you look at this dog, what name speaks to you? You will please note that the dog is the picture with the caption beneath that says, "Dog." It is not the picture whose caption reads, "Jenorama."
6/30/2004
Well.
I have been going out to our local shelter every day. After the first night, we talked about the dogs we had seen. I liked a rottweiler/collie mix, but everyone says don't do that. So, after listening to that from various sources (the most compelling argument award goes to: Liza!), I decided against that. And the hounds, still there, still cute, still would hunt the cats, and bay all day.
So, yesterday I bribed Dereck with lunch and dragged him out again. Yesterday there was a retriever puppy, cream, good disposition, but on hold for five days while they wait for the owner to come and find him. That seems incredibly likely, so we thought, we'll come back Monday and see if he's still there, but we weren't holding our breath.
Today, I finished a report, and didn't leave for lunch til most everyone else had gone and returned. I got out there, and there were two copper-colored pups. I told them, "Well, let's go see what you are."
They are pure-bred golden retrievers, with papers and shots. Obviously brought in by breeders, who denied it. The woman at the shelter thought of me immediately, because I've told her what I want (I have three kids and four cats-- some kind of dog who will fit in), and she liked me because I was coming back and taking my time. But I didn't leave my name and number; I had told her I'd be back today, and she believed me. They were brought in maybe ten minutes before I got there, she said.
Technically, they can't be adopted til tomorrow morning (I don't know why, shelter regulations), but she said there was a possibility of it happening today. Regardless, I told her Dereck and I would be back at 3:30.
And naturally, I want them both. So, you have one hour and ten minutes to talk me out of it.
So, yesterday I bribed Dereck with lunch and dragged him out again. Yesterday there was a retriever puppy, cream, good disposition, but on hold for five days while they wait for the owner to come and find him. That seems incredibly likely, so we thought, we'll come back Monday and see if he's still there, but we weren't holding our breath.
Today, I finished a report, and didn't leave for lunch til most everyone else had gone and returned. I got out there, and there were two copper-colored pups. I told them, "Well, let's go see what you are."
They are pure-bred golden retrievers, with papers and shots. Obviously brought in by breeders, who denied it. The woman at the shelter thought of me immediately, because I've told her what I want (I have three kids and four cats-- some kind of dog who will fit in), and she liked me because I was coming back and taking my time. But I didn't leave my name and number; I had told her I'd be back today, and she believed me. They were brought in maybe ten minutes before I got there, she said.
Technically, they can't be adopted til tomorrow morning (I don't know why, shelter regulations), but she said there was a possibility of it happening today. Regardless, I told her Dereck and I would be back at 3:30.
And naturally, I want them both. So, you have one hour and ten minutes to talk me out of it.
6/28/2004
The Dog
I am not sure how I could have forgotten this. Is it a Freudian slip of the mind?
I have become determined to get a dog. I have wanted one ever since we moved into this house, which also coincided with my reading (for the first time) Where the Red Fern Grows with the seventh grade English class I was teaching.
Dereck is the wiser one in this relationship. It is Dereck who understands that we don't need one more cat because we have FIVE. And we don't need a dog because we have three kids, four fish, FIVE cats, and a partridge in a pair tree.
Our house is not that huge. Our yard? Not that huge. Dogs run. They bark. They have loud nails, scratchy nails. They jump.
I want one.
I dragged Dereck to the humane society today. We found a nice dog with a triangle-shaped head. Rottweiler/collie mix. Will eat the children. Next. Two very friendly hound/boxer puppies. Will eat the cats. Next.
Brown dog, don't know what breed. Tortoise shell quiet dog who will match the newly painted jungle room. Some lab puppies made unattractive by the presence of their own poo in the cage, but shouldn't be held against them.
Perhaps our dog isn't among this bunch. Perhaps we should go with a breeder. I tried tonight to cajole our neighbor out of his dog. Nothing doing. Sigh.
Why do I want a dog? They are friendly and loyal and I can talk to it and walk it and pet it-- wait! I have children and cats! Do I need one more thing to love?
Why do I need to defend this so much? I want a freaking dog, bless my heart. Is that so terrible? I want a dog. People want dogs every day. I don't have to defend this or analyze this.
I just want a dog.
I have become determined to get a dog. I have wanted one ever since we moved into this house, which also coincided with my reading (for the first time) Where the Red Fern Grows with the seventh grade English class I was teaching.
Dereck is the wiser one in this relationship. It is Dereck who understands that we don't need one more cat because we have FIVE. And we don't need a dog because we have three kids, four fish, FIVE cats, and a partridge in a pair tree.
Our house is not that huge. Our yard? Not that huge. Dogs run. They bark. They have loud nails, scratchy nails. They jump.
I want one.
I dragged Dereck to the humane society today. We found a nice dog with a triangle-shaped head. Rottweiler/collie mix. Will eat the children. Next. Two very friendly hound/boxer puppies. Will eat the cats. Next.
Brown dog, don't know what breed. Tortoise shell quiet dog who will match the newly painted jungle room. Some lab puppies made unattractive by the presence of their own poo in the cage, but shouldn't be held against them.
Perhaps our dog isn't among this bunch. Perhaps we should go with a breeder. I tried tonight to cajole our neighbor out of his dog. Nothing doing. Sigh.
Why do I want a dog? They are friendly and loyal and I can talk to it and walk it and pet it-- wait! I have children and cats! Do I need one more thing to love?
Why do I need to defend this so much? I want a freaking dog, bless my heart. Is that so terrible? I want a dog. People want dogs every day. I don't have to defend this or analyze this.
I just want a dog.
The Armpit of America
As the title might suggest, I might be a tad put out to be back.
Now, don't get me wrong. If I could transplant my lovely friends and house to the Northwest, I would. Location, location, location. But as I was driving this morning, I was thinking, "This is not a beautiful area of the country."
And as a result, I have been a mite pissy this evening, so I am hydrating, as surely being dehydrated does not help. And no, I'm not hydrating with alcohol, I am actually hydrating, with water and gatorade.
I got to the airport on Saturday only to discover that when I changed my planet ticket for the trip that wasn't and then changed it back, that the time of my departing flight had changed. And I was using my old itinerary.
Lucky me, the blonde bitch at the airport with the perfect white teeth made me a later ticket with nothing more than a smirk. See, I had been in back of a looooong line, panicking with a woman who later gave me drink coupons for the plane, because we were slightly late. And the blonde woman saw this. So, she was slightly bemused that now I was in fact early.
She was a blonde bitch with perfect teeth, bless her heart.
Those last three words quickly became a joke for us in Seattle. Carol Ann had heard from her niece's mother-in-law, a sweet lady from Texas, that if you add, "Bless his/her heart," to a phrase, you can get away with saying just about anything about anyone.
"She is big as a couch, bless her heart."
"He has a dick the size of a tic tac, bless his heart."
It works particularly well if you say it with a Texas accent (try it, SweetJediMama!).
"That woman just doesn't have an ounce of sense, bless her heart."
All is well, all is forgiven, the terrible thing you just said isn't really so terrible, because you're adding "bless her heart" like you like her anyway.
Interlude
Liza just came over, which I sorely needed to jolly me out of my foul mood. Then our neighbors came over so we could discuss our New Neighborhood Drama: the Religious Neighbors (hard to explain their beliefs really, have to try sometime later) across the street are selling their house to... a fraternity. So, we are discussing the various ways in which we can block this action, including batting around the idea of buying it ourselves and renting it to married students with families.
"Those weird, religous people across the street from us are fucking insane, bless their hearts."
It is a large house (six bedrooms, three baths) with two and a half lots (asking price, for those of you who don't live in the armpit of America: $129,000). We have a lawyer in the neighborhood, so we are fairly confident that we will win-- all we have to do is convince city council NOT to change the zoning of the neighborhood. Maintain status quo. The President of our premier liberal arts college also lives in the neighborhood, which can't hurt.
Back to the Airport
Well, the airports were airports, the flights were flights, I read, slept, etc., and eventually made it to St. Louis at 11:00 p.m.
The plan had been to scour the decadence of East St. Louis, but everyone was fairly wiped out (I later learned that Dereck was wiped out from making me a While You Were Out Room! He painted and stenciled our television room and it's now our jungle room, half black, half gold, and it's hard to describe here how crisp and clean and gorgeous it looks! I just stood and gaped at it, my mouth opening and closing like a fish). So, we had drinks, hit the hay (the AC went off though, and so we tossed and turned a bit in the heat) and the next morning, Karl and Angela made us a fantastico breakfast of cinnamon rolls, coffee, eggs, bacon (grapefruit juice and vodka for those less concerned with hydration than I).
Then, we headed down to the Gay Pride parade, and we will have pictures posted SOON. That was great fun, as those things are, and it was not too too hot. I wore my gilligan hat. Afterwards, we found margaritas, and Dereck, Karl, Beth and I got our Tarot readings done. The woman who read for me, then Karl, then Dereck was the best we'd ever had. She really nailed each of us. Impressive. Beth was pretty excited about hers too, and I know what hers said, but out of respect for her comments on her blog, I will not repeat it.
Then, we were on a mission to go see Farenheit 911 (and Dereck and I were planning to leave for home at some point, too). We actually got into the show, and helped support it opening weekend. We ate snacks/lunch in the movie theater dark. It is not a popcorn chowing kind of movie (though we started out eating it). There were moments when I felt the appropriate response would have been to sob, but I didn't, I sat there and reigned myself in, but after the movie, we all felt pretty subdued and wiped out.
We went out for very yummy Indian food with Angela and Karl, and I was so tired. I said, "I wish we could just drive home tomorrow." And so we decided to do that.
So, we went to Angela's and I laid on the floor with a toss pillow and we watched Six Feet Under and then My So-Called Life. We hadn't really gotten to spend any amount of time with Angela before, and I liked her more and more and more as the day progressed.
Speaking of liking people, I forgot to tell you that I met Pie in Seattle!!! She and her husband drove 45 minutes to meet me (at Starbucks! Where else?). I felt like I had known them forever, like we had always hung out, and that if we lived near each other, we would hang out. I just liked them immediately, and was sorry to see the evening end. Pie and Rob just sparred off of each other, and Rob is one of those guys who is not shy but joins the conversation, tells interesting stories (in a great British accent) and loves Pie dearly, and she banters with him-- it was fun to watch. How lovely to find out that bloggers are just as cool in real life as they are on their blogs, as I discovered first with Michelle de Seattle, and then Pie. I wonder if they liked me...
Anyway, I think I've really covered the high points. And I know I should link to all the blogs/bloggers I've mentioned here, but I'm feeling a little, wee, tiny bit lazy right now, so I'll go back and do it later.
Bless my heart.
Now, don't get me wrong. If I could transplant my lovely friends and house to the Northwest, I would. Location, location, location. But as I was driving this morning, I was thinking, "This is not a beautiful area of the country."
And as a result, I have been a mite pissy this evening, so I am hydrating, as surely being dehydrated does not help. And no, I'm not hydrating with alcohol, I am actually hydrating, with water and gatorade.
I got to the airport on Saturday only to discover that when I changed my planet ticket for the trip that wasn't and then changed it back, that the time of my departing flight had changed. And I was using my old itinerary.
Lucky me, the blonde bitch at the airport with the perfect white teeth made me a later ticket with nothing more than a smirk. See, I had been in back of a looooong line, panicking with a woman who later gave me drink coupons for the plane, because we were slightly late. And the blonde woman saw this. So, she was slightly bemused that now I was in fact early.
She was a blonde bitch with perfect teeth, bless her heart.
Those last three words quickly became a joke for us in Seattle. Carol Ann had heard from her niece's mother-in-law, a sweet lady from Texas, that if you add, "Bless his/her heart," to a phrase, you can get away with saying just about anything about anyone.
"She is big as a couch, bless her heart."
"He has a dick the size of a tic tac, bless his heart."
It works particularly well if you say it with a Texas accent (try it, SweetJediMama!).
"That woman just doesn't have an ounce of sense, bless her heart."
All is well, all is forgiven, the terrible thing you just said isn't really so terrible, because you're adding "bless her heart" like you like her anyway.
Interlude
Liza just came over, which I sorely needed to jolly me out of my foul mood. Then our neighbors came over so we could discuss our New Neighborhood Drama: the Religious Neighbors (hard to explain their beliefs really, have to try sometime later) across the street are selling their house to... a fraternity. So, we are discussing the various ways in which we can block this action, including batting around the idea of buying it ourselves and renting it to married students with families.
"Those weird, religous people across the street from us are fucking insane, bless their hearts."
It is a large house (six bedrooms, three baths) with two and a half lots (asking price, for those of you who don't live in the armpit of America: $129,000). We have a lawyer in the neighborhood, so we are fairly confident that we will win-- all we have to do is convince city council NOT to change the zoning of the neighborhood. Maintain status quo. The President of our premier liberal arts college also lives in the neighborhood, which can't hurt.
Back to the Airport
Well, the airports were airports, the flights were flights, I read, slept, etc., and eventually made it to St. Louis at 11:00 p.m.
The plan had been to scour the decadence of East St. Louis, but everyone was fairly wiped out (I later learned that Dereck was wiped out from making me a While You Were Out Room! He painted and stenciled our television room and it's now our jungle room, half black, half gold, and it's hard to describe here how crisp and clean and gorgeous it looks! I just stood and gaped at it, my mouth opening and closing like a fish). So, we had drinks, hit the hay (the AC went off though, and so we tossed and turned a bit in the heat) and the next morning, Karl and Angela made us a fantastico breakfast of cinnamon rolls, coffee, eggs, bacon (grapefruit juice and vodka for those less concerned with hydration than I).
Then, we headed down to the Gay Pride parade, and we will have pictures posted SOON. That was great fun, as those things are, and it was not too too hot. I wore my gilligan hat. Afterwards, we found margaritas, and Dereck, Karl, Beth and I got our Tarot readings done. The woman who read for me, then Karl, then Dereck was the best we'd ever had. She really nailed each of us. Impressive. Beth was pretty excited about hers too, and I know what hers said, but out of respect for her comments on her blog, I will not repeat it.
Then, we were on a mission to go see Farenheit 911 (and Dereck and I were planning to leave for home at some point, too). We actually got into the show, and helped support it opening weekend. We ate snacks/lunch in the movie theater dark. It is not a popcorn chowing kind of movie (though we started out eating it). There were moments when I felt the appropriate response would have been to sob, but I didn't, I sat there and reigned myself in, but after the movie, we all felt pretty subdued and wiped out.
We went out for very yummy Indian food with Angela and Karl, and I was so tired. I said, "I wish we could just drive home tomorrow." And so we decided to do that.
So, we went to Angela's and I laid on the floor with a toss pillow and we watched Six Feet Under and then My So-Called Life. We hadn't really gotten to spend any amount of time with Angela before, and I liked her more and more and more as the day progressed.
Speaking of liking people, I forgot to tell you that I met Pie in Seattle!!! She and her husband drove 45 minutes to meet me (at Starbucks! Where else?). I felt like I had known them forever, like we had always hung out, and that if we lived near each other, we would hang out. I just liked them immediately, and was sorry to see the evening end. Pie and Rob just sparred off of each other, and Rob is one of those guys who is not shy but joins the conversation, tells interesting stories (in a great British accent) and loves Pie dearly, and she banters with him-- it was fun to watch. How lovely to find out that bloggers are just as cool in real life as they are on their blogs, as I discovered first with Michelle de Seattle, and then Pie. I wonder if they liked me...
Anyway, I think I've really covered the high points. And I know I should link to all the blogs/bloggers I've mentioned here, but I'm feeling a little, wee, tiny bit lazy right now, so I'll go back and do it later.
Bless my heart.
6/24/2004
Bridget Jones
This morning, you have to picture me with a sassy new haircut, which doesn't look all that different from my hair when I first came out, but it just feels and looks better. In the middle of cutting my hair, Carol Ann exclaimed, "Oh, Jen, you're CUTE!"
And indeed I was.
Yesterday we went to the salon shop and I stocked up on supplies: stuff for coloring, a hot flat iron for my hair, shampoo and conditioner, mousse, spray, mascara, etc. Then, we went to the bead store and spent two hours picking out beads for my necklace. It goes with my amber, and I made it last night while Carol Ann worked on her price list for her salon (Imy haircut would have cost me $42 minus tip). I stayed up (we ran out to get me a decaf chai latte, but they didn't hear the "chai" part, so I'm making up for it by drinking a caffeinated chai latte with cayenne pepper right now before we take six children to the Sheraton Hotel for swimming) so I could type it up for her before bed.
So, this morning, I got up at 6:15, and I guess I was amazingly lazy because instead of making it to the bus at 7:00, I made it at 7:30. Can you imagine me with my new 'do and my sassy little black dress, my pedicured toes, my black sandals, heading down to the bus for downtown Seattle? Can you see it? So very different from the frumpy, harried, humidity-stricken Jen of Kirksville.
It turns out I was on the wrong bus. It did indeed, as the bus driver had said, take me to downtown Seattle, but I realized it was never going to go to the underground station I was expecting, so I saw a part of town near my hotel, and decided to use the brain G-d gave me and GET OFF THE BUS. I made it to the hotel at 8:00 with time to register, get coffee, a plate of fruit and yogurt, and get seated for the first speaker. I ate my breakfast and then nodded off.
The remaining sessions were more interesting. At lunch time, I called Michelle de Seattle and we went to the Wild Ginger for lunch, and the food was very good, and she was nice and funny. It was nice to finally meet her. Tomorrow: Pie.
At five o'clock, I was done and I walked past Ann Taylor, Kenneth Cole, Banana Republic, The Gap, Old Navy, Coldwater Creek, Pottery Barn, Barnes and Noble, Tiffany's, and Nordstrom's. Guess what I bought?
Nothing. There wasn't even enough time to get started.
Then, little suburbanite me got on the right bus and headed back to Mercer Island, indulging in the missing of small children's kisses and soft skin and smooth sunburnt arms as I looked across the water.
And now we are off.
And indeed I was.
Yesterday we went to the salon shop and I stocked up on supplies: stuff for coloring, a hot flat iron for my hair, shampoo and conditioner, mousse, spray, mascara, etc. Then, we went to the bead store and spent two hours picking out beads for my necklace. It goes with my amber, and I made it last night while Carol Ann worked on her price list for her salon (Imy haircut would have cost me $42 minus tip). I stayed up (we ran out to get me a decaf chai latte, but they didn't hear the "chai" part, so I'm making up for it by drinking a caffeinated chai latte with cayenne pepper right now before we take six children to the Sheraton Hotel for swimming) so I could type it up for her before bed.
So, this morning, I got up at 6:15, and I guess I was amazingly lazy because instead of making it to the bus at 7:00, I made it at 7:30. Can you imagine me with my new 'do and my sassy little black dress, my pedicured toes, my black sandals, heading down to the bus for downtown Seattle? Can you see it? So very different from the frumpy, harried, humidity-stricken Jen of Kirksville.
It turns out I was on the wrong bus. It did indeed, as the bus driver had said, take me to downtown Seattle, but I realized it was never going to go to the underground station I was expecting, so I saw a part of town near my hotel, and decided to use the brain G-d gave me and GET OFF THE BUS. I made it to the hotel at 8:00 with time to register, get coffee, a plate of fruit and yogurt, and get seated for the first speaker. I ate my breakfast and then nodded off.
The remaining sessions were more interesting. At lunch time, I called Michelle de Seattle and we went to the Wild Ginger for lunch, and the food was very good, and she was nice and funny. It was nice to finally meet her. Tomorrow: Pie.
At five o'clock, I was done and I walked past Ann Taylor, Kenneth Cole, Banana Republic, The Gap, Old Navy, Coldwater Creek, Pottery Barn, Barnes and Noble, Tiffany's, and Nordstrom's. Guess what I bought?
Nothing. There wasn't even enough time to get started.
Then, little suburbanite me got on the right bus and headed back to Mercer Island, indulging in the missing of small children's kisses and soft skin and smooth sunburnt arms as I looked across the water.
And now we are off.
6/22/2004
Lake Crescent
We just got back from a lovely day and two nights at Lake Crescent on the peninsula in very Northwestern Washington. We had a lovely Ferry ride and then drive and arrived there very late at night.
I am looking for pictures (have to wait til I get home so I can download my digital pictures, kids, sorry) of where we stayed, but this is where we did not stay, because this is where the beatiful people stay. But we did stop by this morning for coffee and postcards and admired the scenery.
Aha, I found it-- we stayed at Log Cabin Resort. The link will take you to the photo gallery, which does not begin to do it justice.
We got settled in and Carol Ann chose the bed upstairs and I chose downstairs (which I later regretted after seeing the godzilla size ants we had, but I only got bitten once, and I might have imagined it).
We went down and found a big log by the water (which was a mere eight feet away from our door) and sat down and had a smoke (the first of many, I am afraid, from the whole trip).
We actually didn't stay up that night, arriving near midnight. We sat on the couch listening to music for awhile, eating popcorn, and reading bad magazines, but then turned in. I fell asleep pretty quickly, and Carol Ann stayed up reading-- "My indulgence," she called it.
So, what did we do yesterday? As we kept saying, "Whatever the F--- we want!"
And in a nutshell, I would say that we talked all day. We did some other things in the meantime, but mostly we talked.
We talked while having popcorn, chai tea, and water for breakfast, and feeding the ducks who came to our door, and taking photos and having some smokes.
We talked while walking over to settle our bill and hunt down double A batteries for my digital camera (not successful, by the way, with the battery hunt). We talked about taking a paddle boat out, but as Don often notes, I am all talk. They have these crazy paddle boats which are actually bicycle boats, with an actual bike that you sit on and pedal. I thought they looked dangerous.
In the morning, we put on our bathing suits and slathered the sunscreen on. I wore my orange flowered Walmart hat, which Andy (CA's husband) noticed with great glee at Chloe's softball game on Sunday. We hung out in the sun. I brought my book, but I couldn't take my eyes off the scenery, so I talk talk talked to Carol Ann so she couldn't read her book. I drank water all freaking day and had to pee about a million times.
Then, back at the cabin, she started making a beaded necklace for her jazz singing teacher, and I just couldn't bring myself to read or to write. I think I just needed a break from both. Yesterday the only thing I wrote all day was my name on the credit card slip for the room, which I didn't even look at. That is the least I have written in months, weeks, years. So, I gave myself a manicure and we talked about her jazz singing and she played me songs and sang for a me a bit. (Today, by the way, I peeled off all the nail polish on my fingernails at the hot springs, just for fun). Then, back out to the blanket and the water. Carol Ann felt obligated to get into the FREEZING COLD, GLACIER FED, 900 PLUS FOOT DEEP lake, but I felt no such obligation. When I saw the Atlantic Ocean in the dark last fall, I was afraid. I am an excellent swimmer. I was on a swim team. I had private lessons. But for some reason, the depth of that lake just creeped me out. But I have to say that it was quite lovely and clear.
Back to the room to watch Bridget Jones while CA gave me a pedicure. My feet have never known such pampering and they are quite lovely now. She painted my nails bronze, and upon our return this evening, her nine year old daughter approved. The little girl had helped me pick out the polish, and at my enouraging (choose something with a little edge), painted her own toe nails deep blood red. I am clearly a bad influence on the youth of Mercer Island.
Carol Ann wanted to get the last gasp of sun, so we dragged our blanket around several times to get the last little bits of sun, and watched three young adolescent boys slather their bodies in mud and flip each other off, and another set of slightly older boys look longingly at some lightly older teenage girls who were all developing quite nicely and didn't know the boys even existed.
And all this time, we are talking don't you know, about lost innocence, our children, our relationships, the funny things we see, just anything and everything.
You have to understand how lovely CA is, and she doesn't know it. She looks like Demi Moore. And with her current cold, sounds quite a bit like her and like she has a bad smoking habit (not remotely). She is slender and tone and has long hair with gorgeous highlights that she does herself because that is her profession, but which nobody else could afford in a million years. I am definitely the big dumpy other one, but somehow even when I am next to her, she doesn't make me feel less than lovely.
And no, she hasn't done my hair yet, but tomorrow morning she will probably trim it and then we will do color another time (she has to work tomorrow morning from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m., at the salon right across the hall from my room, so I know I'll be up early tomorrow so I can come and hang out).
Tomorrow afternoon, I'll check into my hotel, and Thursday, work work work. But I traveled all day for my conference Saturday, will again this Saturday, so that is two days of work, and then I have my summer furlough (one day off) and the seminar (two days), so it all comes out in the wash. If I had traveled during the week and taken my furlough, that would have been the same amount of time. Gosh, I guess we are doing color tomorrow afternoon... I don't know, have to ask...
Last night we watched Thirteen which neither of us had seen. But before we watched it, we made some chai tea in the microwave, and then I made Carol Ann put her money where her mouth was: she had said we were going to do facials up at the cabin. And when we saw the boys with the mud, I remembered a time in junior high in which I had to wear mud for a girls camp skit in which I was a twig. My skin has never looked so good.
So, I took one of our empty salad bowls and washed it out, and in the dark, with my fear of the water, went out and got us some mud.
When I brought it into the light, it looked slightly green. It wasn't nice. It was nasty. I smelled it, and it smelled like sulfur, but not anything else.
It was cold, so we microwaved it. Added just a wee bit of water. And then, by golly, we slathered it onto our faces. Yes, I have pictures, so I'll post them next week. And we sat and watched the movie like that for quite some time before we washed it off, and my pores were absolutely fabulous. Today we did masks with pumpkin peel. That smells better.
The movie was good, but honestly, I have heard so many things about Evan Rachel Wood's amazing performance, when she was so clearly outdone by Nikki Reed's complexity. Wood hit about one note, and it got to be annoying. I was disappointed in her performance, but the movie, the direction, and the other performances were all good. It wasn't all that shocking though-- I've seen worse. Requiem For a Dream was worse (and better) and so was Traffic. That's my two cents.
Today we got up, hung out, I wrote a little bit, then CA showered and I wrote more, went out to the log for a last smoke, then I took my shower and we packed up and left.
But we didn't come back to Mercer Island.
We went to a nearby hot springs, and a delightful hike that was just so beautiful beforehand. Oh that I were an Annie Dillard or a Thoreau-- I cannot do it justice (at least not this late at night). Yes, I do feel lucky, privileged, pampered, special, honored, blessed, grateful, etc. It was lovely and amazing. And we just feel terrific.
We were practically the only Americans at the spa, so I pretended I was on the Riviera the whole time I was there. An elderly woman passed out in the locker room just as we were arriving, so I kept thinking, "Do they know to give her aspirin if this is a stroke? Should I tell them?" They clearly didn't want us lurking about though, so I just fretted periodically about, "Grandma," throughout the afternoon.
Then, we showered, got back in the van, and drove the two hours to the ferry, and then got on for the hour ride, ate leftover chicken divan from Chloe's birthday on Friday over couscous we made in the cabin, chatted, and then we were back in Seattle.
And ever since we got back, I've been online catching up, beginning with a gazillion emails from work.
Hope all of your weeks are going well. Do I sound better? I feel better.
I am looking for pictures (have to wait til I get home so I can download my digital pictures, kids, sorry) of where we stayed, but this is where we did not stay, because this is where the beatiful people stay. But we did stop by this morning for coffee and postcards and admired the scenery.
Aha, I found it-- we stayed at Log Cabin Resort. The link will take you to the photo gallery, which does not begin to do it justice.
We got settled in and Carol Ann chose the bed upstairs and I chose downstairs (which I later regretted after seeing the godzilla size ants we had, but I only got bitten once, and I might have imagined it).
We went down and found a big log by the water (which was a mere eight feet away from our door) and sat down and had a smoke (the first of many, I am afraid, from the whole trip).
We actually didn't stay up that night, arriving near midnight. We sat on the couch listening to music for awhile, eating popcorn, and reading bad magazines, but then turned in. I fell asleep pretty quickly, and Carol Ann stayed up reading-- "My indulgence," she called it.
So, what did we do yesterday? As we kept saying, "Whatever the F--- we want!"
And in a nutshell, I would say that we talked all day. We did some other things in the meantime, but mostly we talked.
We talked while having popcorn, chai tea, and water for breakfast, and feeding the ducks who came to our door, and taking photos and having some smokes.
We talked while walking over to settle our bill and hunt down double A batteries for my digital camera (not successful, by the way, with the battery hunt). We talked about taking a paddle boat out, but as Don often notes, I am all talk. They have these crazy paddle boats which are actually bicycle boats, with an actual bike that you sit on and pedal. I thought they looked dangerous.
In the morning, we put on our bathing suits and slathered the sunscreen on. I wore my orange flowered Walmart hat, which Andy (CA's husband) noticed with great glee at Chloe's softball game on Sunday. We hung out in the sun. I brought my book, but I couldn't take my eyes off the scenery, so I talk talk talked to Carol Ann so she couldn't read her book. I drank water all freaking day and had to pee about a million times.
Then, back at the cabin, she started making a beaded necklace for her jazz singing teacher, and I just couldn't bring myself to read or to write. I think I just needed a break from both. Yesterday the only thing I wrote all day was my name on the credit card slip for the room, which I didn't even look at. That is the least I have written in months, weeks, years. So, I gave myself a manicure and we talked about her jazz singing and she played me songs and sang for a me a bit. (Today, by the way, I peeled off all the nail polish on my fingernails at the hot springs, just for fun). Then, back out to the blanket and the water. Carol Ann felt obligated to get into the FREEZING COLD, GLACIER FED, 900 PLUS FOOT DEEP lake, but I felt no such obligation. When I saw the Atlantic Ocean in the dark last fall, I was afraid. I am an excellent swimmer. I was on a swim team. I had private lessons. But for some reason, the depth of that lake just creeped me out. But I have to say that it was quite lovely and clear.
Back to the room to watch Bridget Jones while CA gave me a pedicure. My feet have never known such pampering and they are quite lovely now. She painted my nails bronze, and upon our return this evening, her nine year old daughter approved. The little girl had helped me pick out the polish, and at my enouraging (choose something with a little edge), painted her own toe nails deep blood red. I am clearly a bad influence on the youth of Mercer Island.
Carol Ann wanted to get the last gasp of sun, so we dragged our blanket around several times to get the last little bits of sun, and watched three young adolescent boys slather their bodies in mud and flip each other off, and another set of slightly older boys look longingly at some lightly older teenage girls who were all developing quite nicely and didn't know the boys even existed.
And all this time, we are talking don't you know, about lost innocence, our children, our relationships, the funny things we see, just anything and everything.
You have to understand how lovely CA is, and she doesn't know it. She looks like Demi Moore. And with her current cold, sounds quite a bit like her and like she has a bad smoking habit (not remotely). She is slender and tone and has long hair with gorgeous highlights that she does herself because that is her profession, but which nobody else could afford in a million years. I am definitely the big dumpy other one, but somehow even when I am next to her, she doesn't make me feel less than lovely.
And no, she hasn't done my hair yet, but tomorrow morning she will probably trim it and then we will do color another time (she has to work tomorrow morning from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m., at the salon right across the hall from my room, so I know I'll be up early tomorrow so I can come and hang out).
Tomorrow afternoon, I'll check into my hotel, and Thursday, work work work. But I traveled all day for my conference Saturday, will again this Saturday, so that is two days of work, and then I have my summer furlough (one day off) and the seminar (two days), so it all comes out in the wash. If I had traveled during the week and taken my furlough, that would have been the same amount of time. Gosh, I guess we are doing color tomorrow afternoon... I don't know, have to ask...
Last night we watched Thirteen which neither of us had seen. But before we watched it, we made some chai tea in the microwave, and then I made Carol Ann put her money where her mouth was: she had said we were going to do facials up at the cabin. And when we saw the boys with the mud, I remembered a time in junior high in which I had to wear mud for a girls camp skit in which I was a twig. My skin has never looked so good.
So, I took one of our empty salad bowls and washed it out, and in the dark, with my fear of the water, went out and got us some mud.
When I brought it into the light, it looked slightly green. It wasn't nice. It was nasty. I smelled it, and it smelled like sulfur, but not anything else.
It was cold, so we microwaved it. Added just a wee bit of water. And then, by golly, we slathered it onto our faces. Yes, I have pictures, so I'll post them next week. And we sat and watched the movie like that for quite some time before we washed it off, and my pores were absolutely fabulous. Today we did masks with pumpkin peel. That smells better.
The movie was good, but honestly, I have heard so many things about Evan Rachel Wood's amazing performance, when she was so clearly outdone by Nikki Reed's complexity. Wood hit about one note, and it got to be annoying. I was disappointed in her performance, but the movie, the direction, and the other performances were all good. It wasn't all that shocking though-- I've seen worse. Requiem For a Dream was worse (and better) and so was Traffic. That's my two cents.
Today we got up, hung out, I wrote a little bit, then CA showered and I wrote more, went out to the log for a last smoke, then I took my shower and we packed up and left.
But we didn't come back to Mercer Island.
We went to a nearby hot springs, and a delightful hike that was just so beautiful beforehand. Oh that I were an Annie Dillard or a Thoreau-- I cannot do it justice (at least not this late at night). Yes, I do feel lucky, privileged, pampered, special, honored, blessed, grateful, etc. It was lovely and amazing. And we just feel terrific.
We were practically the only Americans at the spa, so I pretended I was on the Riviera the whole time I was there. An elderly woman passed out in the locker room just as we were arriving, so I kept thinking, "Do they know to give her aspirin if this is a stroke? Should I tell them?" They clearly didn't want us lurking about though, so I just fretted periodically about, "Grandma," throughout the afternoon.
Then, we showered, got back in the van, and drove the two hours to the ferry, and then got on for the hour ride, ate leftover chicken divan from Chloe's birthday on Friday over couscous we made in the cabin, chatted, and then we were back in Seattle.
And ever since we got back, I've been online catching up, beginning with a gazillion emails from work.
Hope all of your weeks are going well. Do I sound better? I feel better.
6/20/2004
Mercer Island
Well, I made it!
Let me begin with last night, actually (was it really only last night?). We went to the rodeo at the NEMO (pronounced like the movie with the cute fish) Fairgrounds! Yeehaw! The kids went out into the extremely muddy field for the calf round up. Tommy, interestingly enough, was actually wearing his farm boots (they are easier to put on than shoes, so he wears them a lot-- might be time to think about flip flops...), so he ran around and actually touched a calf!
Chris was not so lucky. He trotted around valiantly until his shoes were just engulfed in the mud. Then one hand got stuck, his fanny up in the air, and it became clear pretty quickly that he wasn't going anywhere.
Jen's Rodeo Outfit: I was wearing the dress I wore to work and my nice (now muddy) sandals, and I was up in the stands. The announcer is talking about Christian being stuck, when suddenly, I see my Knight In Shining Armor (t-shirt, jeans, cowboy boots) hopping over the fence and into the mud. He went out and got Christian's shoes out, and carried Christian off the field.
Sexiest thing I ever saw. I just about wept.
Last night the kids were up late, and Tommy started getting weepy about my going out of town, though honestly, if I hadn't told him I was going, he wouldn't have known because he'll be at his dad's for two weeks (though I will miss their baseball games this week). This morning, I woke up at 6:20 and Dereck was getting dressed to go to McDonald's after breakfast-- he had woken, and the kids were already up and hungry. Tommy had called for me, and not getting an answer, surmised that I had already gone. When he found out I was still there, he came and jumped on me and kissed me for awhile. The love of little boys....
Yesterday morning, Tommy made Dereck breakfast in bed, cereal with milk and coffee and everything. Astonishing! Dereck said, "It's just like Father's Day," so I thought that was a good time to give him his card that the kids and I had all signed. He has more than earned it.
I worked out, packed, ran to Liza's for a backpack, showered, got baseball uniforms assembled, got the kids off, dried my hair, kissed Dereck, and headed out. Speeding like a bat out of hell, I got to St. Louis in under three and a half hours.
It was very nice to see Karl's friends, all hanging out after a successful rummage sale. Angela had just gone out for pizza, so they fed me pizza, salad, and a Karl-gin-and-tonic, and then we headed off to the airport.
At the airport, there was a long line of women with long hair in long skirts in line for the flight, who really creeped me out. Fundamentalism at work there. I kept thinking, "Why are they going to Las Vegas???" They all looked alike, hair up carelessly, fat, no makeup-- why wear skirts all the time if you just wear them carelessly and look like a sack of potatoes? Did I say that out loud? Ohhhhh, so catttttty... But really.
Well. I soon got the answer to my question (of sorts). I dozed on the flight, and the plane landed and I woke up and thought, "Damn, that was the shortest flight to Las Vegas in the history of man!" No. We had landed in Kansas City! That wasn't on my itinerary. And sure enough, they all filed off. I was happy to see them go.
Then the flight attendant announced Mr. and Mrs. so and so who had just gotten married, and a young couple, the woman replete in wedding splendor, got onto the plane. I think actually I heard later that they were going to Las Vegas to GET married, which makes more sense to me, but anyway, that was kind of fun and interesting.
Las Vegas is always a kick at the airport, slot machines everywhere. I just barely had time to grab some quick tasty airport dinner and get back on the plane, so I didn't gamble (okay, I'm chicken!). I apologized to my seatmates, and then ate my dinner in front of them. By then I was too wired on caffeine to sleep, though I tried, so I just read on both of my flights.
It is now 3:00 a.m. Missouri time. I should go to bed.
Tomorrow, we're off to some cabins by some hot springs for a couple of nights, so I'll be offline for a couple of days.
Cheers from the West Coast!
Let me begin with last night, actually (was it really only last night?). We went to the rodeo at the NEMO (pronounced like the movie with the cute fish) Fairgrounds! Yeehaw! The kids went out into the extremely muddy field for the calf round up. Tommy, interestingly enough, was actually wearing his farm boots (they are easier to put on than shoes, so he wears them a lot-- might be time to think about flip flops...), so he ran around and actually touched a calf!
Chris was not so lucky. He trotted around valiantly until his shoes were just engulfed in the mud. Then one hand got stuck, his fanny up in the air, and it became clear pretty quickly that he wasn't going anywhere.
Jen's Rodeo Outfit: I was wearing the dress I wore to work and my nice (now muddy) sandals, and I was up in the stands. The announcer is talking about Christian being stuck, when suddenly, I see my Knight In Shining Armor (t-shirt, jeans, cowboy boots) hopping over the fence and into the mud. He went out and got Christian's shoes out, and carried Christian off the field.
Sexiest thing I ever saw. I just about wept.
Last night the kids were up late, and Tommy started getting weepy about my going out of town, though honestly, if I hadn't told him I was going, he wouldn't have known because he'll be at his dad's for two weeks (though I will miss their baseball games this week). This morning, I woke up at 6:20 and Dereck was getting dressed to go to McDonald's after breakfast-- he had woken, and the kids were already up and hungry. Tommy had called for me, and not getting an answer, surmised that I had already gone. When he found out I was still there, he came and jumped on me and kissed me for awhile. The love of little boys....
Yesterday morning, Tommy made Dereck breakfast in bed, cereal with milk and coffee and everything. Astonishing! Dereck said, "It's just like Father's Day," so I thought that was a good time to give him his card that the kids and I had all signed. He has more than earned it.
I worked out, packed, ran to Liza's for a backpack, showered, got baseball uniforms assembled, got the kids off, dried my hair, kissed Dereck, and headed out. Speeding like a bat out of hell, I got to St. Louis in under three and a half hours.
It was very nice to see Karl's friends, all hanging out after a successful rummage sale. Angela had just gone out for pizza, so they fed me pizza, salad, and a Karl-gin-and-tonic, and then we headed off to the airport.
At the airport, there was a long line of women with long hair in long skirts in line for the flight, who really creeped me out. Fundamentalism at work there. I kept thinking, "Why are they going to Las Vegas???" They all looked alike, hair up carelessly, fat, no makeup-- why wear skirts all the time if you just wear them carelessly and look like a sack of potatoes? Did I say that out loud? Ohhhhh, so catttttty... But really.
Well. I soon got the answer to my question (of sorts). I dozed on the flight, and the plane landed and I woke up and thought, "Damn, that was the shortest flight to Las Vegas in the history of man!" No. We had landed in Kansas City! That wasn't on my itinerary. And sure enough, they all filed off. I was happy to see them go.
Then the flight attendant announced Mr. and Mrs. so and so who had just gotten married, and a young couple, the woman replete in wedding splendor, got onto the plane. I think actually I heard later that they were going to Las Vegas to GET married, which makes more sense to me, but anyway, that was kind of fun and interesting.
Las Vegas is always a kick at the airport, slot machines everywhere. I just barely had time to grab some quick tasty airport dinner and get back on the plane, so I didn't gamble (okay, I'm chicken!). I apologized to my seatmates, and then ate my dinner in front of them. By then I was too wired on caffeine to sleep, though I tried, so I just read on both of my flights.
It is now 3:00 a.m. Missouri time. I should go to bed.
Tomorrow, we're off to some cabins by some hot springs for a couple of nights, so I'll be offline for a couple of days.
Cheers from the West Coast!
6/18/2004
Feast Days by Annie Dillard
Thanksgiving-Christmas
I
Three things are too wonderful for me;
four I do not understand:
the way of an eagle in the sky,
the way of a serpent on a rock,
the way of a ship on the high seas,
and the way of a man with a maiden.--Proverbs
Today I saw a wood duck
in Tinker Creek.
In the fall flood, look
what the creek floats down:
once I glimpsed
round the edge of a bank
a troupe of actors
rained in from Kansas,
dressed for comedy.
The flood left a candelabrum
on the lawn.
With a ten-foot hook
we fished from the creek
a bunch of bananas, a zither,
a casket of antique coins.
This poem goes on for pages, and last night when Liza tossed me the book casually at the park, I had no idea.
There are times when I remember very distinctly that poetry is why I am alive.
I
Three things are too wonderful for me;
four I do not understand:
the way of an eagle in the sky,
the way of a serpent on a rock,
the way of a ship on the high seas,
and the way of a man with a maiden.--Proverbs
Today I saw a wood duck
in Tinker Creek.
In the fall flood, look
what the creek floats down:
once I glimpsed
round the edge of a bank
a troupe of actors
rained in from Kansas,
dressed for comedy.
The flood left a candelabrum
on the lawn.
With a ten-foot hook
we fished from the creek
a bunch of bananas, a zither,
a casket of antique coins.
This poem goes on for pages, and last night when Liza tossed me the book casually at the park, I had no idea.
There are times when I remember very distinctly that poetry is why I am alive.
6/17/2004
6/16/2004
Phew, CA called tonight and is excited about my pending visit to Seattle. I am staying with her, though I do have a hotel reservation for the nights before my seminar.
We will go and use the hotel gym. I got an email confirmation from the hotel today-- pretty sweet!
I will just knock on wood and say that this has been a very productive week and I'm proud.
We were tired after dinner, and there were kids in our bed watching a video, so we thought, we'll go crawl into Christian's. Well, we found out that he wet his bed last night. So, we crawled onto Tommy's single mattress on the floor and within moments, I was asleep. We woke up in time for practice, dropped them off to practice batting in Ray Miller Elementary gym, and then went to Wal-mart. I got some stuff to try fixing my bathing suit, and three hats (two floppy, one Gilligan, which is orange and flowery, and I am wearing it as I type).
I was so tired and groggy after my nap. We bought some chocolate milk at the store, which I sorely needed. Caloric intake today: slimfast; starbucks cappucino; water; scone from Liza; slimfast; tortilla chips and guacamole before dinner; one piece of pizza and two chicken wings; one half beer. And half the chocolate milk, which got taken over by Tommy, who was crying when we went to pick him up because he thought we'd abandoned him (we weren't even the last ones there!).
Christian latched onto the abandonment idea with glee and planned out staying up all night and hiding from Sam in the morning.
I would have sworn to you that the kids would have played the reverse roles to each other, but they surprised me.
I walked into the kitchen when we got home, and then it happened. I was suddenly AWAKE. Last night I also napped, and at 1:30 in the morning I was hopping around the bedroom chanting, "I'm awake I'm awake I'm awake!" while a drowsy Dereck watched me from the bed.
I can tell that this is probably in our future as well as our past...
We will go and use the hotel gym. I got an email confirmation from the hotel today-- pretty sweet!
I will just knock on wood and say that this has been a very productive week and I'm proud.
We were tired after dinner, and there were kids in our bed watching a video, so we thought, we'll go crawl into Christian's. Well, we found out that he wet his bed last night. So, we crawled onto Tommy's single mattress on the floor and within moments, I was asleep. We woke up in time for practice, dropped them off to practice batting in Ray Miller Elementary gym, and then went to Wal-mart. I got some stuff to try fixing my bathing suit, and three hats (two floppy, one Gilligan, which is orange and flowery, and I am wearing it as I type).
I was so tired and groggy after my nap. We bought some chocolate milk at the store, which I sorely needed. Caloric intake today: slimfast; starbucks cappucino; water; scone from Liza; slimfast; tortilla chips and guacamole before dinner; one piece of pizza and two chicken wings; one half beer. And half the chocolate milk, which got taken over by Tommy, who was crying when we went to pick him up because he thought we'd abandoned him (we weren't even the last ones there!).
Christian latched onto the abandonment idea with glee and planned out staying up all night and hiding from Sam in the morning.
I would have sworn to you that the kids would have played the reverse roles to each other, but they surprised me.
I walked into the kitchen when we got home, and then it happened. I was suddenly AWAKE. Last night I also napped, and at 1:30 in the morning I was hopping around the bedroom chanting, "I'm awake I'm awake I'm awake!" while a drowsy Dereck watched me from the bed.
I can tell that this is probably in our future as well as our past...
6/15/2004
Oh, Why Not?
If you people don't start posting on your blogs soon, I'm actually going to write that damn book one of these days... In the meantime, looky what I found at Penguin Drawing... I have a feeling I'm going to look bad after this. Those bolded are the ones I've read (or could fake my way through if I had to teach Freshmen).
Beowulf
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Brontë, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Brontë, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop (no, but I've taught My Antonia-- does that count for something?)Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities (it was the best of books, it was the worst of books...)
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass (some)Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury (I actually have taught this to Freshmen)
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones (oh, yes, actually, but I don't remember it very well)
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby (Tender is the Night is better)
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House (I'd get beaucoup points if they listed all of Ibsen's plays. I think I've read every one).
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (No, but I have read Finnegan's Wake! I'm going to add stuff to this list).
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis (of course!)
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain (no, but I've read other stuff)Marquez, Gabriel GarcÃa - One Hundred Years of Solitude (ouch!)
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni - Beloved (ouch ouch!)
O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find (G-d, who hasn't? Taught this one too).
O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night (taught this one too)
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago (great flick, though)
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar (I make it a personal policy to stay out of the Bell Jar)
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales
Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way (Never ever going to read more Proust again)Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac (GREAT movie)
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye (Philip met him!)
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream (but I might be able to fake it)
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (might be able to fake it)Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (ouch, I know!)
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories (didn't she write that one about Roman Fever?)Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass (I sing the body electric)
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse (No, but I read The Hours)
Wright, Richard - Native Son
Where the hell is Milan Kundera on that list?????
And what about Sartre? J'ai lit Huis Clos en francais for crying out loud! Ionesco? Guy de Maupassant? Harold Pinter? T.S. Freaking Eliot? Not even a little Prufrock? Oh, come on!
I think this list is faulty.
Beowulf
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Brontë, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Brontë, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop (no, but I've taught My Antonia-- does that count for something?)Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities (it was the best of books, it was the worst of books...)
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass (some)Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury (I actually have taught this to Freshmen)
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones (oh, yes, actually, but I don't remember it very well)
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby (Tender is the Night is better)
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House (I'd get beaucoup points if they listed all of Ibsen's plays. I think I've read every one).
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (No, but I have read Finnegan's Wake! I'm going to add stuff to this list).
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis (of course!)
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain (no, but I've read other stuff)Marquez, Gabriel GarcÃa - One Hundred Years of Solitude (ouch!)
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni - Beloved (ouch ouch!)
O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find (G-d, who hasn't? Taught this one too).
O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night (taught this one too)
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago (great flick, though)
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar (I make it a personal policy to stay out of the Bell Jar)
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales
Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way (Never ever going to read more Proust again)Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac (GREAT movie)
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye (Philip met him!)
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream (but I might be able to fake it)
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (might be able to fake it)Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (ouch, I know!)
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories (didn't she write that one about Roman Fever?)Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass (I sing the body electric)
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse (No, but I read The Hours)
Wright, Richard - Native Son
Where the hell is Milan Kundera on that list?????
And what about Sartre? J'ai lit Huis Clos en francais for crying out loud! Ionesco? Guy de Maupassant? Harold Pinter? T.S. Freaking Eliot? Not even a little Prufrock? Oh, come on!
I think this list is faulty.
The BBC
Last night we watched on DVD an episode of the BBC comedy hit The
Office. In it there was a scenario in which a secretary asks a
co-worker why he never comes around to talk to her anymore (b/c she
has a boyfriend). He pretends that nothing is wrong. Then she asks
him to go "wind up" an obnoxious co-worker as they often do, and he
acts like he doesn't know what she is talking about and tells her that
he is busy working and she should be too. This is a very direct
change from last season in which they were very chummy (the change has
occurred because she is engaged now).
He walks away, leaving to wonder whether something has happened, whether she can trust her instincts about their previous chumminess and the sudden change, and something has happened, why?
Office. In it there was a scenario in which a secretary asks a
co-worker why he never comes around to talk to her anymore (b/c she
has a boyfriend). He pretends that nothing is wrong. Then she asks
him to go "wind up" an obnoxious co-worker as they often do, and he
acts like he doesn't know what she is talking about and tells her that
he is busy working and she should be too. This is a very direct
change from last season in which they were very chummy (the change has
occurred because she is engaged now).
He walks away, leaving to wonder whether something has happened, whether she can trust her instincts about their previous chumminess and the sudden change, and something has happened, why?
6/14/2004
Family Reunions
I just got an invitation to a family reunion. I don't know-- I'll have to think about this.
Oh, who am I kidding. It's in Utah. It's in August. I won't have my kids to show off because they'll be with their dad in Cleveland. I'm not going.
This year, we both have a plane ticket, different airlines. And so we were trying to figure out where to go, what to do.
Well. We started too late. The beaches of North Carolina and Mexico beckon and glisten, but we waited too late.
It's too expensive. We wouldn't be able to use our tickets to go to Mexico. There are things money must be spent on: a new minivan to replace the one whose door persists in coming unstuck while I am driving around with three kids. It doesn't open, but it buzzes at us like an angry hornet, which is very distracting. That can't be good. I need to have the TrashMobile detailed. That is expensive. Then all of savings will have to go to a down-payment on a new one. Sigh.
And all of savings cannot go anywhere yet this summer because my salary is lower because of the summer furlough.
And I cannot have car payments this summer because my salary is lower because of the summer furlough.
And I don't want more credit card debt. That's really what this all boils down to. I could slap a week-long trip to the beach on any ol' credit card of my choosing, and then spend the next six months anxious about paying it off.
So, no. No family reunion (even though it's a cheap date). No glistening white sands and cool blue tides. Instead, we will go camping in the sweltering heat and humidity and mosquitoes of western Kentucky. We will drive several hours and apply sunscreen and bug spray and pitch our tent, light our fire. I will sit at a picnic table smoking, drinking beer, and we will cook dinner and wait for the sun to go down. We might find a place to swim or rent a boat and we will bring our books and magazines, and when the stars finally emerge, we will lie quietly and look at them and talk and slap our arms and thighs and pray for sweet breezes. We will not be able to sleep because of the heat for a long long time and will lie on top of the sleeping bags, barely touching because of the heat. The next morning, we will emerge bleary-eyed and bitten and happy and make coffee on the fire and breakfast. We may do this for a couple of days.
And then we will head to St. Louis. Instead of boarding a plane for an exotic destination like Cancun or New Orleans, we will go and join the throngs of other fat, sweaty, sunburnt hillbillies with bad haircuts and colorful tattoos (notice I said "other hillbillies" implying that we are indeed two of them, and yes, we are, bad haircuts, tattoos, sunburns, and all, though we are not fat, and I will have a fabulous haircut after next week)at 6 Flaggs. And we will scream ourselves hoarse on the roller coasters, lie in the rivers of the water park, and eat cotton and candy and funnel cake and drink warm beer until we are feverish with heat stroke and sticky and sweaty and then we will go collapse in some cheap, air-conditioned, questionably clean hotel somewhere in St. Louis, and drink stale hotel coffee in the morning.
Invariably, we will try to get Fulcrum Monkey and his Crew to go with us. And we might even end up on his floor instead of at the hotel. And instead of collapsing after 6 Flaggs, we will end up in East St. Louis, which is actually not in Missouri at all, in a skanky strip club, watching strippers who have more stretch marks than I do. And we will emerge later, cheapened and drunk and smelling of baby powder.
And in the morning, we will hoist our hangovers down Delmar Street, walking past all the great houses along the way, and we will sit outside and eat from a great breakfast buffet, and while away the hours until the heat chases us into a videostore where cheap thrills, a darkened living room, and air conditioning beckon and we stare at the screen until we slowly fall into comatose naps.
Then, we will slowly make our way into the showers, come down refreshed, crack open bottled beer or make gin and tonics, and either grill out in Fulcrum Monkey's back yard (with his new table, complete with umbrella) or we will hie us out to dinner on Thai or Indian, or the best Italian restaurant I've ever seen, complete with tuxedoed waiters, fine red wines, grilled red pepper bruschettas, ah, it haunts my dreams...
All in all, not a bad way to spend a summer vacation.
Oh, who am I kidding. It's in Utah. It's in August. I won't have my kids to show off because they'll be with their dad in Cleveland. I'm not going.
This year, we both have a plane ticket, different airlines. And so we were trying to figure out where to go, what to do.
Well. We started too late. The beaches of North Carolina and Mexico beckon and glisten, but we waited too late.
It's too expensive. We wouldn't be able to use our tickets to go to Mexico. There are things money must be spent on: a new minivan to replace the one whose door persists in coming unstuck while I am driving around with three kids. It doesn't open, but it buzzes at us like an angry hornet, which is very distracting. That can't be good. I need to have the TrashMobile detailed. That is expensive. Then all of savings will have to go to a down-payment on a new one. Sigh.
And all of savings cannot go anywhere yet this summer because my salary is lower because of the summer furlough.
And I cannot have car payments this summer because my salary is lower because of the summer furlough.
And I don't want more credit card debt. That's really what this all boils down to. I could slap a week-long trip to the beach on any ol' credit card of my choosing, and then spend the next six months anxious about paying it off.
So, no. No family reunion (even though it's a cheap date). No glistening white sands and cool blue tides. Instead, we will go camping in the sweltering heat and humidity and mosquitoes of western Kentucky. We will drive several hours and apply sunscreen and bug spray and pitch our tent, light our fire. I will sit at a picnic table smoking, drinking beer, and we will cook dinner and wait for the sun to go down. We might find a place to swim or rent a boat and we will bring our books and magazines, and when the stars finally emerge, we will lie quietly and look at them and talk and slap our arms and thighs and pray for sweet breezes. We will not be able to sleep because of the heat for a long long time and will lie on top of the sleeping bags, barely touching because of the heat. The next morning, we will emerge bleary-eyed and bitten and happy and make coffee on the fire and breakfast. We may do this for a couple of days.
And then we will head to St. Louis. Instead of boarding a plane for an exotic destination like Cancun or New Orleans, we will go and join the throngs of other fat, sweaty, sunburnt hillbillies with bad haircuts and colorful tattoos (notice I said "other hillbillies" implying that we are indeed two of them, and yes, we are, bad haircuts, tattoos, sunburns, and all, though we are not fat, and I will have a fabulous haircut after next week)at 6 Flaggs. And we will scream ourselves hoarse on the roller coasters, lie in the rivers of the water park, and eat cotton and candy and funnel cake and drink warm beer until we are feverish with heat stroke and sticky and sweaty and then we will go collapse in some cheap, air-conditioned, questionably clean hotel somewhere in St. Louis, and drink stale hotel coffee in the morning.
Invariably, we will try to get Fulcrum Monkey and his Crew to go with us. And we might even end up on his floor instead of at the hotel. And instead of collapsing after 6 Flaggs, we will end up in East St. Louis, which is actually not in Missouri at all, in a skanky strip club, watching strippers who have more stretch marks than I do. And we will emerge later, cheapened and drunk and smelling of baby powder.
And in the morning, we will hoist our hangovers down Delmar Street, walking past all the great houses along the way, and we will sit outside and eat from a great breakfast buffet, and while away the hours until the heat chases us into a videostore where cheap thrills, a darkened living room, and air conditioning beckon and we stare at the screen until we slowly fall into comatose naps.
Then, we will slowly make our way into the showers, come down refreshed, crack open bottled beer or make gin and tonics, and either grill out in Fulcrum Monkey's back yard (with his new table, complete with umbrella) or we will hie us out to dinner on Thai or Indian, or the best Italian restaurant I've ever seen, complete with tuxedoed waiters, fine red wines, grilled red pepper bruschettas, ah, it haunts my dreams...
All in all, not a bad way to spend a summer vacation.
Harry Potter
The older two kids want to go see Harry Potter again. Tonight. I am badly sunburnt. We spent all day in the sun the past two days.
Okay.
Okay.
The Wee Hours of the Morning
It is early Monday morning. I have one kid with a sore throat, another in the tub, and one more with no signs of stirring soon. So, I'm going to work from home this morning (it is not yet time to go to work) until we figure out whether we are dealing with allergies or something else.
This weekend was pretty great, three baseball games not withstanding.
Friday was my furlough day, so we stayed home and I got the challah made. D took the kids to Garfield, so Liza and I went and worked out for an hour (yay for us!).
Then she and the kids came over for a lovely dinner of salmon with asparagus sauce, salad, wild rice, and of course, challah. The children, all six of them ages 4-10, were absolutely silent while they ate. It was that good. They all enjoyed the Shabbat service and I had candles for everyone, even the papa overseas (not in Iraq, studying!).
Then we sat around and talked and the children watched The Wizard of Oz until ten or so. D and I had made noises about staying up later, but we pretty much turned into sleeping people within the half hour.
Saturday: Baseball!
Saturday went like this. Rise a little too late, hustle kids into uniforms. Ever since Tommy and our adopted daughter from next door cleaned his room, we have had a heck of a time finding baseball uniforms, but we managed.
It wasn't too too hot yet and there were pleasant people to talk with. Tommy hit the ball very well, but it always went foul and he was upset. Christian just doesn't try very hard.
Came home from that game, and even though it wasn't too too hot, I was wiped out and went back to bed for two hours, just in time to get up for the next game, but not in time to feed kids lunch. So, Dereck said he'd bring lunch up separately. Get to game, and it was HOT. It didn't take me long to figure out that the little kids couldn't stay in that heat and then go play their game right after. So, I called D and cancelled lunch, and took the kids home, fed them lunch. I changed into a shirt with sleeves so I wouldn't fry (didn't matter, frying was soon to come anyway) and then I went back to the game and D brought the little ones up later.
We discovered the joys of sitting under an umbrella. It makes an incredible difference.
Sam's team always loses because the ten year olds are just learning how to pitch, but he did a good job at third base anyway.
The little ones won their game-- they always win and are amazing fielders-- and then we all went out to the lake to swim.
We went out to a N.O.W. benefit Saturday night which ended up being too loud, so we went down stairs and chatted with Christine. And then for the second time in my long career at MY watering hole, my ex-spouse came in, so we finished our drinks and left.
Sunday
Brunch with friends, and then baseball practice (just among ourselves) at the playground nearby. Christian made vast improvements and was good-spirited.
Then, back to the lake, where I fried. Liza and kids met us there for the second day in a row, and then they all came back to our house for dinner after. It was lovely-- these are the days that make me feel like I have a summer vacation-- they stretch out forever involve lots of sun and good friends and little kids and good food.
Then we watched the season premiere of Six Feet Under (eh) and went to bed.
Now it is time to pour some coffee and get started. Cheers.
This weekend was pretty great, three baseball games not withstanding.
Friday was my furlough day, so we stayed home and I got the challah made. D took the kids to Garfield, so Liza and I went and worked out for an hour (yay for us!).
Then she and the kids came over for a lovely dinner of salmon with asparagus sauce, salad, wild rice, and of course, challah. The children, all six of them ages 4-10, were absolutely silent while they ate. It was that good. They all enjoyed the Shabbat service and I had candles for everyone, even the papa overseas (not in Iraq, studying!).
Then we sat around and talked and the children watched The Wizard of Oz until ten or so. D and I had made noises about staying up later, but we pretty much turned into sleeping people within the half hour.
Saturday: Baseball!
Saturday went like this. Rise a little too late, hustle kids into uniforms. Ever since Tommy and our adopted daughter from next door cleaned his room, we have had a heck of a time finding baseball uniforms, but we managed.
It wasn't too too hot yet and there were pleasant people to talk with. Tommy hit the ball very well, but it always went foul and he was upset. Christian just doesn't try very hard.
Came home from that game, and even though it wasn't too too hot, I was wiped out and went back to bed for two hours, just in time to get up for the next game, but not in time to feed kids lunch. So, Dereck said he'd bring lunch up separately. Get to game, and it was HOT. It didn't take me long to figure out that the little kids couldn't stay in that heat and then go play their game right after. So, I called D and cancelled lunch, and took the kids home, fed them lunch. I changed into a shirt with sleeves so I wouldn't fry (didn't matter, frying was soon to come anyway) and then I went back to the game and D brought the little ones up later.
We discovered the joys of sitting under an umbrella. It makes an incredible difference.
Sam's team always loses because the ten year olds are just learning how to pitch, but he did a good job at third base anyway.
The little ones won their game-- they always win and are amazing fielders-- and then we all went out to the lake to swim.
We went out to a N.O.W. benefit Saturday night which ended up being too loud, so we went down stairs and chatted with Christine. And then for the second time in my long career at MY watering hole, my ex-spouse came in, so we finished our drinks and left.
Sunday
Brunch with friends, and then baseball practice (just among ourselves) at the playground nearby. Christian made vast improvements and was good-spirited.
Then, back to the lake, where I fried. Liza and kids met us there for the second day in a row, and then they all came back to our house for dinner after. It was lovely-- these are the days that make me feel like I have a summer vacation-- they stretch out forever involve lots of sun and good friends and little kids and good food.
Then we watched the season premiere of Six Feet Under (eh) and went to bed.
Now it is time to pour some coffee and get started. Cheers.
6/12/2004
6/11/2004
Friday
How did my Fridays get so busy?
Well, I guess water seeks its own level...
So today: Make challah, clean the house, go to the grocery store, exercise, feed children lunch...
The kids want to go see Garfield this afternoon (Sam wants to go see Harry Potter again, so I said, "Well, twist my arm...") but I don't think it's going to happen today because the %*^&($ baseball coach called and wants to have batting practice at 3:30 before the 5:15 game. Hello, sun, could you be shining any more brightly today?
I personally think that maybe we will show up for said practice at 4:00. After all, they can't all bat at once at 3:30, now can they? I also think this guy is a little enthusiastic about the 6-7 year old league...
Then, lovely Shabbat dinner planned, must call two folks and see if they are coming...I am getting better at planning ahead for Shabbat, but sleeping in this morning really kind of threw me off kilter. It just means I will have to be more efficient later.
Later, as in when I drag my butt off this chair and get going.
We watched Reality Bites last night. Dereck had never seen it. We were looking at the commentary later and Janeane Garafolo is very thin (how did she do it?), (comma) and Steve Zahn looks fantastic.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Ethan Hawke (despite the fact that he is an idiot, an asshole, and a loser-- explains a lot about my marriage, doesn't it?) but he and Winona? Not looking so hot these days.
Wanna Hear a Joke?
My dad just sent me a book, so I'm stealing the joke from the back for your enjoyment.
A panda bear walks into a bar and orders a sandwich. The panda bear eats the sandwich, and then pulls out a pistol, shoots rapidly into the air, and then turns for the door.
The owner is frozen in shock, but cries out, "Wait!... Why?"
The panda bear tosses him a poorly edited wildlife manual.
"I'm a panda bear."
The owner flips through the manual and finds this description:
Panda Bear: Black and white. Eats, shoots, and leaves.
Well, I guess water seeks its own level...
So today: Make challah, clean the house, go to the grocery store, exercise, feed children lunch...
The kids want to go see Garfield this afternoon (Sam wants to go see Harry Potter again, so I said, "Well, twist my arm...") but I don't think it's going to happen today because the %*^&($ baseball coach called and wants to have batting practice at 3:30 before the 5:15 game. Hello, sun, could you be shining any more brightly today?
I personally think that maybe we will show up for said practice at 4:00. After all, they can't all bat at once at 3:30, now can they? I also think this guy is a little enthusiastic about the 6-7 year old league...
Then, lovely Shabbat dinner planned, must call two folks and see if they are coming...I am getting better at planning ahead for Shabbat, but sleeping in this morning really kind of threw me off kilter. It just means I will have to be more efficient later.
Later, as in when I drag my butt off this chair and get going.
We watched Reality Bites last night. Dereck had never seen it. We were looking at the commentary later and Janeane Garafolo is very thin (how did she do it?), (comma) and Steve Zahn looks fantastic.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Ethan Hawke (despite the fact that he is an idiot, an asshole, and a loser-- explains a lot about my marriage, doesn't it?) but he and Winona? Not looking so hot these days.
Wanna Hear a Joke?
My dad just sent me a book, so I'm stealing the joke from the back for your enjoyment.
A panda bear walks into a bar and orders a sandwich. The panda bear eats the sandwich, and then pulls out a pistol, shoots rapidly into the air, and then turns for the door.
The owner is frozen in shock, but cries out, "Wait!... Why?"
The panda bear tosses him a poorly edited wildlife manual.
"I'm a panda bear."
The owner flips through the manual and finds this description:
Panda Bear: Black and white. Eats, shoots, and leaves.
6/10/2004
Dereck...
This is for you. Thank you, Beth! (And also for validating my feelings about the Alias finale).
Last night we saw In America, which was really tremendous. The little girl actresses were dumbfounding. Is there anything that older girl can't do? But the little one, oh my goodness.
Speaking of which, I impulsively invited our little neighbor girl to go to Harry Potter with us the other night (man, if I were 13, I'd have a serious crush on Daniel Radcliffe-- he is such jailbait, but oh my!). I love our little neighbor girl. Her mom goes out of town for grad school during the week (I love the mom too) and so LG (little girl) comes over often to play. She is Tommy's age, 6. And she had already seen the movie, but she came with us anyway. She was a great barometer for when it was time to tell the kids to close their eyes because I'd hear her little voice say, "Oh, I don't LIKE this part..." And eventually I invited her to sit with me so she could bury her little face in my neck. My kids were unperturbed by the dementors-- they ain't got nothin' on those ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings.
I am the only adult I know who actually liked Danie... er, Harry Potter and it must be because Dan... I haven't read the books for four years...
Last night we saw In America, which was really tremendous. The little girl actresses were dumbfounding. Is there anything that older girl can't do? But the little one, oh my goodness.
Speaking of which, I impulsively invited our little neighbor girl to go to Harry Potter with us the other night (man, if I were 13, I'd have a serious crush on Daniel Radcliffe-- he is such jailbait, but oh my!). I love our little neighbor girl. Her mom goes out of town for grad school during the week (I love the mom too) and so LG (little girl) comes over often to play. She is Tommy's age, 6. And she had already seen the movie, but she came with us anyway. She was a great barometer for when it was time to tell the kids to close their eyes because I'd hear her little voice say, "Oh, I don't LIKE this part..." And eventually I invited her to sit with me so she could bury her little face in my neck. My kids were unperturbed by the dementors-- they ain't got nothin' on those ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings.
I am the only adult I know who actually liked Danie... er, Harry Potter and it must be because Dan... I haven't read the books for four years...
6/09/2004
All I Ever Needed to Know I Stole From Pie...
Mind Hump for Hump Day
My excuse is if I wasn't doing this, I'd have to actually fold the laundry. And no one wants that.
01. You are a source of light. What are you and why?
I'm a Shabbat candle, and I'm melting pretty fast because the ceiling fan is on.
02. There's a huge neon sign above your head everywhere you go ... what is it flashing?
Loud and Coarse
03. If you could be anyone's blog, whose would you be and why? (Provide a link to that blog)Pie's because then I would have an original thought.
04. If you could have a vanity phone number, what would it be and what would it spell?
WHO-KNEW?
05. Look around you .... name two odd things in your vicinity and explain why they are there.I'm in my kitchen. It's odd to hear children's voices wafting in through the window because they are my children, and they are actually outside playing with other children rather than plugged into electronica.
What else? There is a moss-covered toy tiger in the poor fish tank. The kids never played with it, but they were mad as hell when I drowned it.
My excuse is if I wasn't doing this, I'd have to actually fold the laundry. And no one wants that.
01. You are a source of light. What are you and why?
I'm a Shabbat candle, and I'm melting pretty fast because the ceiling fan is on.
02. There's a huge neon sign above your head everywhere you go ... what is it flashing?
Loud and Coarse
03. If you could be anyone's blog, whose would you be and why? (Provide a link to that blog)Pie's because then I would have an original thought.
04. If you could have a vanity phone number, what would it be and what would it spell?
WHO-KNEW?
05. Look around you .... name two odd things in your vicinity and explain why they are there.I'm in my kitchen. It's odd to hear children's voices wafting in through the window because they are my children, and they are actually outside playing with other children rather than plugged into electronica.
What else? There is a moss-covered toy tiger in the poor fish tank. The kids never played with it, but they were mad as hell when I drowned it.
6/08/2004
Do Not Laugh...
I answered 27 questions and I was ruthlessly honest. What on earth does this mean????
Woe is Me
Wow, I actually had the audacity just now to try to out-woe Don Bindner via email.
I don't know if that means that I am really crabby or that he is doing pretty well.
Or maybe we are both just in a stupid funk.
I bet Linda would trade problems with me in a minute-- I can't say the same. So, maybe that is an indication. Just keep my problems, and deal with them.
Philip sent me the most awesome email the other day-- damn, I should have asked him if I could post it here.
Maybe I should just start being more like Scarlett O'Hara and thinking about it tomorrow.
As Tommy would say, "Is tomorrow after this day?"
I always say the same thing. "Yes, Tommy, that is the very definition of tomorrow."
I don't know if that means that I am really crabby or that he is doing pretty well.
Or maybe we are both just in a stupid funk.
I bet Linda would trade problems with me in a minute-- I can't say the same. So, maybe that is an indication. Just keep my problems, and deal with them.
Philip sent me the most awesome email the other day-- damn, I should have asked him if I could post it here.
Maybe I should just start being more like Scarlett O'Hara and thinking about it tomorrow.
As Tommy would say, "Is tomorrow after this day?"
I always say the same thing. "Yes, Tommy, that is the very definition of tomorrow."
6/07/2004
Stolen From House of Winds
Answer the following questions in the comment box:
1. Who are you?
2. Have we ever met?
3. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
4. Describe me in one word.
5. What reminds you of me?
6. If you could give me anything, what would it be?
7. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
8. Are you going to put this on your weblog and see what I say about you?
9. What do you love like a fat kid loves cake?
10. What makes you come back here?
1. Who are you?
2. Have we ever met?
3. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
4. Describe me in one word.
5. What reminds you of me?
6. If you could give me anything, what would it be?
7. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
8. Are you going to put this on your weblog and see what I say about you?
9. What do you love like a fat kid loves cake?
10. What makes you come back here?
Mothering Christian
On the way to summer school, the first day:
Christian: "I'm so excited, I could just cry."
Me (naive): "Oh, good!"
Christian: "I'm not excited. I'm housebroken!"
Christian: "What does housebroken mean?"
Me (covering mouth): "It means you know to go outside to go to the bathroom if you are a dog. You are not housebroken, honey, you are heartbroken."
In The School:
Christian: "I'm so embarrassed."
Christian: "What does embarrassed mean?"
Me: "It means you feel funny."
Christian: "I'm so embarrassed."
At Baseball:
Christian: "We always win! I hate winning! Why do we always have to win!"
Christian (at homeplate): "Do you want me to get a homerun, Mommy?"
Me: "Sure."
Christian: "Well, I'm not going to!"
Christian (at homeplate again): "Do you want me to get a homerun, Mommy?"
Me: "I just want you to have fun, honey."
Christian: "Well, I'm not having fun!"
At Bath Time:
Christian: "Can I go pee, Mommy?"
Me: "Yes."
Christian: "Tommy says he will spank me if I go pee."
Me: "Are you going to go in the bathtub?"
Christian: "No, the potty."
Me: "Go head."
Tommy: "I'm going to spank you Christian!"
Me: "No you are not."
Christian stands in front of the potty and, yes, still manages to pee on my foot.
Christian: "I'm so excited, I could just cry."
Me (naive): "Oh, good!"
Christian: "I'm not excited. I'm housebroken!"
Christian: "What does housebroken mean?"
Me (covering mouth): "It means you know to go outside to go to the bathroom if you are a dog. You are not housebroken, honey, you are heartbroken."
In The School:
Christian: "I'm so embarrassed."
Christian: "What does embarrassed mean?"
Me: "It means you feel funny."
Christian: "I'm so embarrassed."
At Baseball:
Christian: "We always win! I hate winning! Why do we always have to win!"
Christian (at homeplate): "Do you want me to get a homerun, Mommy?"
Me: "Sure."
Christian: "Well, I'm not going to!"
Christian (at homeplate again): "Do you want me to get a homerun, Mommy?"
Me: "I just want you to have fun, honey."
Christian: "Well, I'm not having fun!"
At Bath Time:
Christian: "Can I go pee, Mommy?"
Me: "Yes."
Christian: "Tommy says he will spank me if I go pee."
Me: "Are you going to go in the bathtub?"
Christian: "No, the potty."
Me: "Go head."
Tommy: "I'm going to spank you Christian!"
Me: "No you are not."
Christian stands in front of the potty and, yes, still manages to pee on my foot.
6/04/2004
Shalom shabbat
I met Barbara for a two hour lunch today to discuss Torah study and lots of other things (including Jewish views on abortion!).
At one point, we were finding in the Torah where to start studying from, and a man approached us and asked if that was a Torah and we started chatting. He asked us what we were doing. We said we were studying the Torah together. He asked us what prompted this and Barbara said, "We're Jewish."
It turns out he is Jewish as well (I figured) and here for graduation (ding ding) and the VP of his temple in Illinois. We had a lovely chat. That was very fun.
My menorahs came from Israel today! I don't know where I will find candles teeny enough for them (Dereck said, "Birthday candles.")
I have been cleaning all afternoon for Shabbat (Believe me the house needed it!). I have some vacuuming to do, and the challah to finish, and then baseball to head to. Where did the day go?
I am staying home tomorrow morning and taking some time for study and me. I just want to sit quietly in my house. Of course, there is also baseball at 9 a.m.
Sigh.
At one point, we were finding in the Torah where to start studying from, and a man approached us and asked if that was a Torah and we started chatting. He asked us what we were doing. We said we were studying the Torah together. He asked us what prompted this and Barbara said, "We're Jewish."
It turns out he is Jewish as well (I figured) and here for graduation (ding ding) and the VP of his temple in Illinois. We had a lovely chat. That was very fun.
My menorahs came from Israel today! I don't know where I will find candles teeny enough for them (Dereck said, "Birthday candles.")
I have been cleaning all afternoon for Shabbat (Believe me the house needed it!). I have some vacuuming to do, and the challah to finish, and then baseball to head to. Where did the day go?
I am staying home tomorrow morning and taking some time for study and me. I just want to sit quietly in my house. Of course, there is also baseball at 9 a.m.
Sigh.
6/03/2004
Reasons Not to Go
Well, the reasons for NOT going to Columbia are just piling up. Sam has a baseball game. The peeps are gathering for one last supper before they scatter for summer. Liza's honey is going out of town (tho, she will be busy, she tells me, go, go!).
So, I am leaning toward not going this week. After all, I could still get up and go down early on Saturday. I want to go down tomorrow with Dereck though.
And isn't it going to be like this every week, every time I want to go? Is this a time where I should make a stand and say, "No, this is important"?
But the thing is, I went to services last week. I can still have Shabbat here-- heck, I can make bread, bring candlesticks and challah and wine and have it at Eithne's.
And I can have Torah study here myself on Saturday.
What to do what to do?
Should I stay or should I go now?
I guess I will let you know.
So, I am leaning toward not going this week. After all, I could still get up and go down early on Saturday. I want to go down tomorrow with Dereck though.
And isn't it going to be like this every week, every time I want to go? Is this a time where I should make a stand and say, "No, this is important"?
But the thing is, I went to services last week. I can still have Shabbat here-- heck, I can make bread, bring candlesticks and challah and wine and have it at Eithne's.
And I can have Torah study here myself on Saturday.
What to do what to do?
Should I stay or should I go now?
I guess I will let you know.
6/02/2004
Heart Attacks
You know, when you call the hotel where you have a contract for a retreat, a block of rooms, and everything else in the city has been booked for at least three months, and they tell you that they can't find your contract, and then five minutes later they say, "Oh yes, here it is," that can't be good for your heart.
You know, when you call the hotel where you have a contract for a retreat, a block of rooms, and everything else in the city has been booked for at least three months, and they tell you that they can't find your contract, and then five minutes later they say, "Oh yes, here it is," that can't be good for your heart.
I Quit
Yesterday afternoon, despite having been fully caffeinated, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed.
However, that seemed to me to be defeatest, and I recognized the urge as originating not in fatigue, but rooted in the existential angst that comes from feeling one's time has not been well-spent.
So, I very quickly changed into my exercise clothes and headed out the door to the park. I met Liza's husband and kids there, splashing about in the wading pool (the kids, not the husband). Liza was at home, but Christine's house was only a block away, so I went there first to see how la bebe was doing.
The back of her head is squishy from blood pooling there. And apart from that squeamish fact, she has lovely long legs, and was happily drugged out on codeine.
So, we took her for a walk. We did two miles.
Weight is often a topic of conversation. I discussed the fact that despite small meals and rampant exercise, that my waistline is not receding. Everything else is coming along nicely. Christine told me how many calories she consumes daily. I would be dead.
If I gave up bread entirely, cream in my coffee, cut my morning slimfast to half, had no salad dressing, and no alcohol again ever, I might be able to achieve the results she has, and the remote caloric intake.
However, I am no longer willing in my life to do this. I spent a year in therapy discussing the fact that my feelings of self-worth should have less to do with my dress size (I discussed this with a therapist who was herself a size 20 [larger than I have ever been, by the way]who later went on Atkins and shrunk herself to a size 8. Do as I say, not as I do).
Despite my therapist's newfound svelte figure, and the fact that I am sure, via starvation, that yes, I could lose the weight, I made a determined decision this morning not to get on that bandwagon.
Granted, I ate special K for breakfast. Out of the box, without milk. Part of the reason for this, though, is that I got drunk last night (and called Karl while stumbling home, and then got online with Sarahspace) so I slept in this morning (I stayed up last night, reading in the tub until I figured I was out of hangover danger) so I was rushing to work today.
And I'll probably eat a salad or soup for lunch. I'm not saying I'm gonna go nuts or stop working out.
But dammit, if I want a Schmirnoff every evening this summer, I'm gonna have it. And if I want creme brulee or tiramisu at Il Spazio, I'm gonna have that too.
I am not Kate Hudson. Nobody is paying me $2 Million to be thin. If and when they do, I will certainly reconsider, but until then, I have bigger fish to fry.
And then I'm going to eat them.
Yesterday afternoon, despite having been fully caffeinated, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed.
However, that seemed to me to be defeatest, and I recognized the urge as originating not in fatigue, but rooted in the existential angst that comes from feeling one's time has not been well-spent.
So, I very quickly changed into my exercise clothes and headed out the door to the park. I met Liza's husband and kids there, splashing about in the wading pool (the kids, not the husband). Liza was at home, but Christine's house was only a block away, so I went there first to see how la bebe was doing.
The back of her head is squishy from blood pooling there. And apart from that squeamish fact, she has lovely long legs, and was happily drugged out on codeine.
So, we took her for a walk. We did two miles.
Weight is often a topic of conversation. I discussed the fact that despite small meals and rampant exercise, that my waistline is not receding. Everything else is coming along nicely. Christine told me how many calories she consumes daily. I would be dead.
If I gave up bread entirely, cream in my coffee, cut my morning slimfast to half, had no salad dressing, and no alcohol again ever, I might be able to achieve the results she has, and the remote caloric intake.
However, I am no longer willing in my life to do this. I spent a year in therapy discussing the fact that my feelings of self-worth should have less to do with my dress size (I discussed this with a therapist who was herself a size 20 [larger than I have ever been, by the way]who later went on Atkins and shrunk herself to a size 8. Do as I say, not as I do).
Despite my therapist's newfound svelte figure, and the fact that I am sure, via starvation, that yes, I could lose the weight, I made a determined decision this morning not to get on that bandwagon.
Granted, I ate special K for breakfast. Out of the box, without milk. Part of the reason for this, though, is that I got drunk last night (and called Karl while stumbling home, and then got online with Sarahspace) so I slept in this morning (I stayed up last night, reading in the tub until I figured I was out of hangover danger) so I was rushing to work today.
And I'll probably eat a salad or soup for lunch. I'm not saying I'm gonna go nuts or stop working out.
But dammit, if I want a Schmirnoff every evening this summer, I'm gonna have it. And if I want creme brulee or tiramisu at Il Spazio, I'm gonna have that too.
I am not Kate Hudson. Nobody is paying me $2 Million to be thin. If and when they do, I will certainly reconsider, but until then, I have bigger fish to fry.
And then I'm going to eat them.
6/01/2004
Missing Archives
Thank you all for following.
The archives are missing because I didn't move them, and I disabled them on the other blog.
Also, you will notice on the other blog that the links are all missing.
This is all on purpose-- but you'll have to email me privately for more information.
I did back up all the archives though, in a Word document, if you miss them.
The archives are missing because I didn't move them, and I disabled them on the other blog.
Also, you will notice on the other blog that the links are all missing.
This is all on purpose-- but you'll have to email me privately for more information.
I did back up all the archives though, in a Word document, if you miss them.
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