Everyone is doing That Thing with the posting every day.
I am mildly embarassed that there is absolutely no way I could keep up, even after reading Mighty Girl's book.
But I have tiny postage stamps of stories...the kind that start "one time..." and end with everyone at the party avoiding me for the evening.
The first, i will call:
The One Time I Got Run Over By A Bike
one time, I got run over by a guy on a bike
I was walking along, minding my own, when wham! I guy comes straight at me and knocks me flat.
The front wheel struck me where my nuts would be if I were a dude
good thing I'm not. I had ugly bruises on my CROTCH.
CROTCH BRUISES, PEOPLE
Oh, and he totally didn't stop, he KEPT GOING. Hit and run CROTCH BRUISER!!
I cried, but I do that a lot.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Thursday, November 01, 2007
relive my dorky youth
I just hope it doesn't suck.
"X-Files" stars, crew reunite for secretive sequel
By Leslie Simmons Thu Nov 1, 3:21 AM ET
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - Fans of "The X-Files" no longer have to rely on Internet rumors to seek the truth about a sequel to the 1998 movie based on the popular TV series
On Wednesday, Fox announced production will start December 10 on the sequel, which reunites the show's stars, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. The studio also picked July 25 as the U.S. release date.
Series creator Chris Carter will direct the still-untitled film. Carter also co-wrote the screenplay with "X-Files" veteran Frank Spotnitz. The duo also are producing. Shooting will take place in Vancouver.
The studio is staying little about the film's story line. All that is being revealed is that it is a "supernatural thriller" and that the movie will take the complicated relationship between FBI agents Fox Mulder (Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Anderson) in unexpected directions as Mulder continues on his quest for the truth and Scully remains inextricably tied to her partner's pursuits.
The July 25 release date would put "X-Files" up against "Step Brothers," a comedy starring Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, and an untitled comedy starring Ice Cube.
Fox's "X-Files" ran for nine seasons, ending in 2002. The first feature film, produced by Carter and co-written with Spotnitz, grossed $187 million worldwide.
Reuters/Hollywood Reporter
"X-Files" stars, crew reunite for secretive sequel
By Leslie Simmons Thu Nov 1, 3:21 AM ET
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - Fans of "The X-Files" no longer have to rely on Internet rumors to seek the truth about a sequel to the 1998 movie based on the popular TV series
On Wednesday, Fox announced production will start December 10 on the sequel, which reunites the show's stars, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. The studio also picked July 25 as the U.S. release date.
Series creator Chris Carter will direct the still-untitled film. Carter also co-wrote the screenplay with "X-Files" veteran Frank Spotnitz. The duo also are producing. Shooting will take place in Vancouver.
The studio is staying little about the film's story line. All that is being revealed is that it is a "supernatural thriller" and that the movie will take the complicated relationship between FBI agents Fox Mulder (Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Anderson) in unexpected directions as Mulder continues on his quest for the truth and Scully remains inextricably tied to her partner's pursuits.
The July 25 release date would put "X-Files" up against "Step Brothers," a comedy starring Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, and an untitled comedy starring Ice Cube.
Fox's "X-Files" ran for nine seasons, ending in 2002. The first feature film, produced by Carter and co-written with Spotnitz, grossed $187 million worldwide.
Reuters/Hollywood Reporter
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Halloween Story
As alluded to last month.
Once upon a time many years ago, I was a dumbfuck college freshman. I was SO THRILLED to be independent and move away from home, but at the same time I must have been somewhat frightened because I regressed in a lot of ways. I had pictures of my cats! I ate a lot of candy, because my mom was so disapproving of candy. I even--oh god this is embarassing--started signing my name as first and middle, the combination of which is intensely childlike and thank heavens no one mocked me for too badly (I don't do it any more, my first name is babyish enough thank you very much).
I felt very much like a child set loose among adults. For example, the first time someone referred to one of my fellow freshmen as a "woman" I was completely confused and couldn't figure out who she was talking about. My poor roommate must have thought I was somehow mentally deficient, because she was vastly more mature than I and knew a lot of normal general information about the world that I did not. For example: how to dial long distance? Where the science building was? Where is the bus? People stay awake after 10 PM? Oh MAN I was a dumdum. Good thing it was a very protective and insulated college or else who knows.
I spent kind of a lot of time in the TV room (again...my mom disapproved of TV so I went overboard) when I wasn't busy, because I was not so awesome at making friends (luckily, in soviet russia, friends make YOU!) and because it was a good place to go that was dark and quiet and not as sensory overload as the rest of the place. One of those early weeks at school, I went down to try to find a TV playing the season premiere of "X files" because I was a giant nerd. That was like the second or so time that I had run into Octuplet Dazzle, and I was SO EXCITED that she liked my superlame show and from then on, we usually watched together.
So anyway, couple months later, Halloween is here, and you know there are a million cool-kid parties going on. I don't have to tell you that I was way too shy and nervous to go to any of them, and anyway had not received the secret memo about time and location. All I knew was there was free candy in the dining halls, and people were dressed up.
The one thing I felt I could attend was a scary-stories-performance in my own hall. The woman telling the stories was a sort of distant acquaintance, an upperclasswoman from my hometown who played tennis with my stepgrandmother.
So, I put on a 'costume' (I believe I glued plastic spiders all over my face. Not so much a costume as an effect, I guess) and wandered down to the living room where the stories were going on, and found Octuplet Dazzle there. (woohoo!) Now, I am a strictly rational type, I do not believe in any type of spooky ghosts despite my love of the x files. But Helen's stories were quite good and she set them in the actual dorm itself which made them almost scary, though far-fetched.
Anyway, when it was over and everyone had eaten all the available candy, most people, like my roommate, started getting ready to go out to their hot parties, but not lame-o me and not Octuplet Dazzle, but not because she was lame, probably because she was going to study or something (she smart).
At this point she prepared to do her normal disappearing act where she sneaks away when no one is looking. But I jumped in!
"Wow, wasn't that SCARY?" I said.
"Um, a little. I guess," she said, eyeing the exit.
"So FREAKY. With the bloody handprint on the window of the computer room? And the crazy woman locked to die in the fourth-floor corner room? And how the dining room used to be a cemetery? Aren't you scared?"
"Uh...a little. Maybe," thinking what the fuck is this dumdum on about?
"Man...I don't know if I'll be able to sleep! How about you? Won't you be SCARED all alone in your room? Just thinking about that bloody handprint and the screaming you can hear at the full moon. I think it's a full moon tonight!"
[note: for some reason OD had no roommate. The roommate dropped out, like, four days into school. OD denies responsibility, but she does snore on occasion]
"Yeah...I guess so."
"I would be SO SCARED to sleep alone tonight! Hey I know! You can sleep in my room!"
And she did folks, and that's the only story I have that is even sort of cute.
The end.
Once upon a time many years ago, I was a dumbfuck college freshman. I was SO THRILLED to be independent and move away from home, but at the same time I must have been somewhat frightened because I regressed in a lot of ways. I had pictures of my cats! I ate a lot of candy, because my mom was so disapproving of candy. I even--oh god this is embarassing--started signing my name as first and middle, the combination of which is intensely childlike and thank heavens no one mocked me for too badly (I don't do it any more, my first name is babyish enough thank you very much).
I felt very much like a child set loose among adults. For example, the first time someone referred to one of my fellow freshmen as a "woman" I was completely confused and couldn't figure out who she was talking about. My poor roommate must have thought I was somehow mentally deficient, because she was vastly more mature than I and knew a lot of normal general information about the world that I did not. For example: how to dial long distance? Where the science building was? Where is the bus? People stay awake after 10 PM? Oh MAN I was a dumdum. Good thing it was a very protective and insulated college or else who knows.
I spent kind of a lot of time in the TV room (again...my mom disapproved of TV so I went overboard) when I wasn't busy, because I was not so awesome at making friends (luckily, in soviet russia, friends make YOU!) and because it was a good place to go that was dark and quiet and not as sensory overload as the rest of the place. One of those early weeks at school, I went down to try to find a TV playing the season premiere of "X files" because I was a giant nerd. That was like the second or so time that I had run into Octuplet Dazzle, and I was SO EXCITED that she liked my superlame show and from then on, we usually watched together.
So anyway, couple months later, Halloween is here, and you know there are a million cool-kid parties going on. I don't have to tell you that I was way too shy and nervous to go to any of them, and anyway had not received the secret memo about time and location. All I knew was there was free candy in the dining halls, and people were dressed up.
The one thing I felt I could attend was a scary-stories-performance in my own hall. The woman telling the stories was a sort of distant acquaintance, an upperclasswoman from my hometown who played tennis with my stepgrandmother.
So, I put on a 'costume' (I believe I glued plastic spiders all over my face. Not so much a costume as an effect, I guess) and wandered down to the living room where the stories were going on, and found Octuplet Dazzle there. (woohoo!) Now, I am a strictly rational type, I do not believe in any type of spooky ghosts despite my love of the x files. But Helen's stories were quite good and she set them in the actual dorm itself which made them almost scary, though far-fetched.
Anyway, when it was over and everyone had eaten all the available candy, most people, like my roommate, started getting ready to go out to their hot parties, but not lame-o me and not Octuplet Dazzle, but not because she was lame, probably because she was going to study or something (she smart).
At this point she prepared to do her normal disappearing act where she sneaks away when no one is looking. But I jumped in!
"Wow, wasn't that SCARY?" I said.
"Um, a little. I guess," she said, eyeing the exit.
"So FREAKY. With the bloody handprint on the window of the computer room? And the crazy woman locked to die in the fourth-floor corner room? And how the dining room used to be a cemetery? Aren't you scared?"
"Uh...a little. Maybe," thinking what the fuck is this dumdum on about?
"Man...I don't know if I'll be able to sleep! How about you? Won't you be SCARED all alone in your room? Just thinking about that bloody handprint and the screaming you can hear at the full moon. I think it's a full moon tonight!"
[note: for some reason OD had no roommate. The roommate dropped out, like, four days into school. OD denies responsibility, but she does snore on occasion]
"Yeah...I guess so."
"I would be SO SCARED to sleep alone tonight! Hey I know! You can sleep in my room!"
And she did folks, and that's the only story I have that is even sort of cute.
The end.
Monday, October 29, 2007
uh huh.
Received from...uh...someone. Someone who should know better.
No comment.
Hello, Fabulous LADY friend
THIS IS A TOAST ... TO US ... FOR THE MAN WHO HAS US, THE LOSERS WHO HAD US, AND THE LUCKY PEOPLE WHO WILL MEET US!!
You have been hit. You have been considered one of the 10 most fabulous ladies on my friends list. Once you have been hit, you have to hit 10 fabulous ladies. If you get hit again you know you're really fabulous.
SEND THIS TO 10 AMAZING LADIES, INCLUDING THE ONE WHO SENT IT TO YOU!!! .
**Let them know they are truly fabulous.
THINK PINK!! BREAST CANCER awareness
No comment.
Hello, Fabulous LADY friend
THIS IS A TOAST ... TO US ... FOR THE MAN WHO HAS US, THE LOSERS WHO HAD US, AND THE LUCKY PEOPLE WHO WILL MEET US!!
You have been hit. You have been considered one of the 10 most fabulous ladies on my friends list. Once you have been hit, you have to hit 10 fabulous ladies. If you get hit again you know you're really fabulous.
SEND THIS TO 10 AMAZING LADIES, INCLUDING THE ONE WHO SENT IT TO YOU!!! .
**Let them know they are truly fabulous.
THINK PINK!! BREAST CANCER awareness
Thursday, October 25, 2007
spookay!
Halloween's coming. That means candy eating! and neighbors with swank-ass parties. We are supposed to enter a "creepy dessert" contest and I'm a little intimidated.
Question: legibility of Leslie Hall costume? anyone?
note please to the right, Library Thing. Fun times! I want to discuss the YA SCi fi title. As noted before, even though I often find novels boring, I can totally read YA fantasy/scifi. If you share that taste, please read Un Lun Dun. It is funny and surprising and exciting andclever . Female heroine, too, very resourceful. And how often do you see a desi heroine (besides in those "my family keeps me down" books I hate)? It's a good one, folks.
Question: legibility of Leslie Hall costume? anyone?
note please to the right, Library Thing. Fun times! I want to discuss the YA SCi fi title. As noted before, even though I often find novels boring, I can totally read YA fantasy/scifi. If you share that taste, please read Un Lun Dun. It is funny and surprising and exciting and
Monday, October 22, 2007
bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling
OD: I'm going to Brooks, you want anything?
Me: yes, VENGEANCE!
On Friday I went to the (bleepity bleep) pharmacy to pick up a prescription. Went in and waited in line only to be told they don't carry that kind, sorry sadsack, no drugs for you! So I turned around and left. When I came out what did I spy? A grimy blue civic with a STOVE-IN SIDE. ASSHOLES! I KILL YOU!
Woo! Just when you think you can relax about money a little.
Brooks (nka Rite Aid) does not have security cameras in the parking lot, btw. So if you feel like doing a hit and run, do it there.
GARRRRRRRGH
ahem.
Me: yes, VENGEANCE!
On Friday I went to the (bleepity bleep) pharmacy to pick up a prescription. Went in and waited in line only to be told they don't carry that kind, sorry sadsack, no drugs for you! So I turned around and left. When I came out what did I spy? A grimy blue civic with a STOVE-IN SIDE. ASSHOLES! I KILL YOU!
Woo! Just when you think you can relax about money a little.
Brooks (nka Rite Aid) does not have security cameras in the parking lot, btw. So if you feel like doing a hit and run, do it there.
GARRRRRRRGH
ahem.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
whoo, let's get heavy off the top shall we,
I'll even resort to Utter Boring to do so.
bought a mattress this weekend, for the kid. We'd been using crib mattress on the floor but upgraded to the twin for a little more rolling room. and, considering how much effing time we have been spending down there with him between the hours of 12 and 5, a little extra room for adults is not bad either.
They really get you on these things. You muster up the rationalization to spend $$$ on the mattress, then at the checkout they hit you for a water-proof cover thingy, then of course you need sheets in the new size. While you're in Marshall's buying them, you see all this other crap you need and then...you go home and you're like fuck! we have one metric ton of crap in this closet alone!
On a related note, anyone want a used-but-totally-clean tiny baby mattress? Not a fancy one by any means.
I've been drawing little diagrams with cutouts trying to rearrange some furniture. Have to make room for playtime fun, and it's not a bad idea to get the computer on the other side of Baby Gate Gulch, either. We have the place divided like that, into Yes Baby and No Baby. Front of house: fair game. Back of house: DMZ.
so far ok but i'm sure he'll be able to demolish the gate, like, next week.
bought a mattress this weekend, for the kid. We'd been using crib mattress on the floor but upgraded to the twin for a little more rolling room. and, considering how much effing time we have been spending down there with him between the hours of 12 and 5, a little extra room for adults is not bad either.
They really get you on these things. You muster up the rationalization to spend $$$ on the mattress, then at the checkout they hit you for a water-proof cover thingy, then of course you need sheets in the new size. While you're in Marshall's buying them, you see all this other crap you need and then...you go home and you're like fuck! we have one metric ton of crap in this closet alone!
On a related note, anyone want a used-but-totally-clean tiny baby mattress? Not a fancy one by any means.
I've been drawing little diagrams with cutouts trying to rearrange some furniture. Have to make room for playtime fun, and it's not a bad idea to get the computer on the other side of Baby Gate Gulch, either. We have the place divided like that, into Yes Baby and No Baby. Front of house: fair game. Back of house: DMZ.
so far ok but i'm sure he'll be able to demolish the gate, like, next week.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Obligatory Gay Post
Lynne Cheney was on Jon Stewart last night. Did you see? He did the soft-touch thing of course. There would be no excuse for that if he did it to Dick, but with her—I guess—it’s all right. Still, though he was careful and delicate, he did manage to say what we all are thinking.
Why is it OK for the Republicans to do such mean things to your child?
Her (non-) answers conveyed that she believes that, in fact, she and Dick have stuck up for their child, have protected their child, Dick by saying “freedom means freedom for everyone,” and she herself by stating publicly that she is against the FMA. She dismissed any suggestion that they could actually stand up and do something instead of just saying things. And I thought, isn’t she a MOTHER? How can she let that stuff go?
I have never properly thanked my own mother for her activism. She deserves my thanks and more, she puts me to shame. Years ago she was fighting the fight for Civil Unions. She even put a bumper sticker on her car, which is so out of her normal way I was good and truly shocked. In the years since she has stepped up to wage the battle for full marriage rights. At any street fair or festival, she’s manning the Freedom to Marry booth, chatting up strangers, extracting signatures for the petitions. She’s unafraid to really engage someone who says “Are you gay? Then why do you care?” She writes letters to the editor when needed—clear, and concise letters that lay it out in simple terms. Marriage is good. Everyone should have the right. She goes to the Statehouse to lobby. When she’s in DC on business (yes! She has an entire other career!) she stops in to the rep and the senators to say hello and to remind them of this, her important cause. You can call it preaching to the choir but it still matters.
You may think that there is no convincing the antis that they are wrong. But she has done it. She has collected signatures from people who said, Oh, I just couldn’t! It’s too far! She’ll say, What part is too far? She talks them through it. They change their minds because of what she says.
This is amazing to me. I have a touch of the pessimist in me (O.D. is scoffing, a TOUCH?) and would never, ever have believed that people could be convinced that they were wrong on this issue. My mother proves me wrong over and over. Vermont is going to follow Massachusetts, I think.
I am incredibly grateful to have my mother’s support. It’s more than support; she’s leading the way. To me it has always seemed beyond all requirement, the lengths she goes to for this cause. But according to her, it is simply mothering. It is protective, it is caring, it is loving. Now that I am slowly becoming used to the role of mother myself, and wondering every day what it means to be a good mother and whether I can be one, I understand better. My mother fights this fight because it is what mothers do for their children: really and truly fight for them. If I can stand for my kid the way my mother does for me, I will be satisfied with the job I’ve done.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
pity party!
Once upon a time,
I turned 30 and my friends of 12 years forgot/secretly hate me and didn't call.
The end.
another non-story:
I have known Octuplet Dazzle for 12 years! holy crap that's a long time!
we did not meet cute or anything, folks. sorry no adorable stories.
I turned 30 and my friends of 12 years forgot/secretly hate me and didn't call.
The end.
another non-story:
I have known Octuplet Dazzle for 12 years! holy crap that's a long time!
we did not meet cute or anything, folks. sorry no adorable stories.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
AH MAH GAH
Did everyone else know this already? Jenna Bush 'wrote' a novel?
You Guys!
You didn't tell me!
Here it is
Seriously, howracist awesome is this going to BE??
COMEDY GOLD, PEOPLE.
Oh also have you heard the rumor she's pregnant? That's what I heard, mum's the word.
You Guys!
You didn't tell me!
Here it is
Seriously, how
COMEDY GOLD, PEOPLE.
Oh also have you heard the rumor she's pregnant? That's what I heard, mum's the word.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
livestock at the fair
AAA! What the hell is that??
OMG Don't FEEED IT!!
seriously, I've never seen him look so worried about anything!
scary sheep!
OMG Don't FEEED IT!!
seriously, I've never seen him look so worried about anything!
scary sheep!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
boom! crash!
Do you ever miss trainwrecks.org?
I do.
It probably adds to my negative karma, but that shit cracked me up.
there was kind of a trainwrecks-esque incident at work. It involved the company's fancy fenway box, raffled tickets, important customers, and a stern all-desks memo about proper behavior. All of which probably adds up to about .12 blood alcohol. I still don't know who though!
It is funny and would be funnier if it didn't mean that now I have NO chance of every winning the tickets, whereas before it was just a wee chance. Boo.
I do.
It probably adds to my negative karma, but that shit cracked me up.
there was kind of a trainwrecks-esque incident at work. It involved the company's fancy fenway box, raffled tickets, important customers, and a stern all-desks memo about proper behavior. All of which probably adds up to about .12 blood alcohol. I still don't know who though!
It is funny and would be funnier if it didn't mean that now I have NO chance of every winning the tickets, whereas before it was just a wee chance. Boo.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
If you feel like freaking yourself out
Apparently I do, cause I find this kind of satisfying.
Emergency Procedures brainstorm
Perhaps I have a latent survivalist tendency. Though you won't catch me peering through binocs at black helicopters or stockpiling shotguns.
Emergency Procedures brainstorm
Perhaps I have a latent survivalist tendency. Though you won't catch me peering through binocs at black helicopters or stockpiling shotguns.
| Emergency | Plan |
| Bridges to Cambridge are blocked while I’m at work | Steal boat from boathouse |
| Political coup or martial law declared nationwide | Drive far north as possible, hike into Canada |
| Floodwaters rise forcing us and neighbors to third floor | Someone can stand on my shoulders and break skylight to |
Blizzard, hurricane, power outage etc make baby formula, | Formula=melted ice cream from all the thawing freezers in |
Aliens invade and enslave human race | Head for woods; live in cave while developing toxin to |
ENP destroys all electrical equipment | Camp stove; candles; carrier pigeons |
Twilight zone scenario where I’m the only person left on | mmm…shit…this one sucks….I’d probably head straight for |
Zombies | You kill zombies by shooting them in the head.Duh. |
| Ice-9 | Make some snowshoes, bundle up, burn proof pages for heat |
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Tiredness makes it incredibly hard for me to focus on anything. Sometimes at the beginning of a task I have to write down the steps while I still know them, so that I don't end up staring at a pile of pages, trying to figure out where I was when I left off, or doing the almost-panicky thing I do where I compulsively click through every open window on my screen looking for an entry point back into whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing.
The brain, it cannot keep track of itself lately.
Among topics that would be amusing if I had an attention span > 3 seconds
-member of my family who buys into 9/11 conspiracies, to my embarassment
-my attempts to hack a not-cheap baby product that turned out to be WAY lamer than its price suggested (maybe I'll leave this until I've successfully improved this sucker)
-how old and lame I've become, that I turned down an invitation to a very fun evening with some of my favorite people because of my bedtime
There. I've bored myself to sleep.
The brain, it cannot keep track of itself lately.
Among topics that would be amusing if I had an attention span > 3 seconds
-member of my family who buys into 9/11 conspiracies, to my embarassment
-my attempts to hack a not-cheap baby product that turned out to be WAY lamer than its price suggested (maybe I'll leave this until I've successfully improved this sucker)
-how old and lame I've become, that I turned down an invitation to a very fun evening with some of my favorite people because of my bedtime
There. I've bored myself to sleep.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Baby Loves Bhangra
He does, he danced very energetically at India Day yesterday. In a sea of cute kids he was certainly cutest.
Why dont' they make such pretty and cute clothes for boys though? no fair.
We have these cats staying with us, that we are babysitting. It was for someone I don't know very well. She left them on July 2, they were supposed to stay for five weeks until she came back.
It's not such a big deal that they've stayed longer, but it is a big deal that she hasn't called or anything to say when she will really be coming. It turns out that I don't like all cats as much as I liked our old cat. These two are destructive! They rip shit up and they knock stuff down. They seem friendly but it's not a nice friendly...I call the girl one Bitey.
So this woman who owns the cats, she hasn't responded to my messages.
If she doesn't come back, hey, Free Cats for first taker!
Why dont' they make such pretty and cute clothes for boys though? no fair.
We have these cats staying with us, that we are babysitting. It was for someone I don't know very well. She left them on July 2, they were supposed to stay for five weeks until she came back.
It's not such a big deal that they've stayed longer, but it is a big deal that she hasn't called or anything to say when she will really be coming. It turns out that I don't like all cats as much as I liked our old cat. These two are destructive! They rip shit up and they knock stuff down. They seem friendly but it's not a nice friendly...I call the girl one Bitey.
So this woman who owns the cats, she hasn't responded to my messages.
If she doesn't come back, hey, Free Cats for first taker!
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
ooh, selling out
MotherTalk book blog tour:
Maximum Ride 3: Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports
By James Patterson
Once, many years ago, Octuplet Dazzle and I went on a trip with my parents. We each brought a handful of paperback books of airport quality, that we could read, trade, and then dump in some hostel in South America. One of these books was a James Patterson work, the title of which escapes me. It dealt with a kind-hearted veterinarian who encounters a group of genetically engineered children on the run from the Bad Scientists. The children, luckily, have an advantage, in that they can fly. It got sillier from there.
This was easily the worst of the entire batch of pretty lousy books on the trip. We may have traded it for a cup of coffee in Baños. Sorry, coffee vendor.
Well, at some point Patterson must have realized that even for weary travelers and people stranded in airports, tales of flying children were kind of a stretch. But the idea must have seemed too good to drop entirely, as the scenario has been tweaked and rebranded and turned into a series of books aimed at children, who presumably don’t balk at the idea that “recombinant DNA” results in children who can fly (and read minds!) And this novel is just bursting with themes that appeal to kids: Kids Alone In the Woods, Kids vs. Grownups, Loyal Friends.
The execution is strained, however. There’s a feeling of self-consciousness running through the book (to the point of having the narrator-heroine chastise the reader for starting with the third book in the series). There is also a kind of gimmicky ‘blog’ aspect introduced by one of the characters. This fourth-wall-breaking doesn’t really add much to the tale, though I laughed out loud at the ‘blog comments’, which were authentically spelled.
Past all these awkward details is a standard adventure with plenty of sci-fi elements, a band of righteous kids, and some super-super-super-villains. The story is frequently violent and I have a feeling that this series is more popular among boys than girls, despite the central character being a girl. In this respect, it’s a bit unusual--books aimed at boys almost exclusively feature boys in key roles (think CYOA books). Max, the heroine of this series, exhibits virtues generally tagged as ‘male’, though, such as toughness, aversion to tears, distaste for ‘mushy’ feelings, and physical strength, which tells me she has probably been written to appeal to boys.
And appeal she does, as the Maximum Ride series is tops on many bestseller lists. I suspect the readers overlap with fans of Eoin Colfer’s fantasy novels. If you’ve got a ten-year-old, you probably don’t need to read all these reviews anyway: you’re probably drowning in Maximum Ride titles already, and will be shelling out the clams for movie tix in 2008. It’s already a successful franchise, and I’m sure Patterson sleeps on a giant pile of hundred-dollar bills, but its shelf life is limited, and I don’t expect your grandkids to be reading this series.
Maximum Ride 3: Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports
By James Patterson
Once, many years ago, Octuplet Dazzle and I went on a trip with my parents. We each brought a handful of paperback books of airport quality, that we could read, trade, and then dump in some hostel in South America. One of these books was a James Patterson work, the title of which escapes me. It dealt with a kind-hearted veterinarian who encounters a group of genetically engineered children on the run from the Bad Scientists. The children, luckily, have an advantage, in that they can fly. It got sillier from there.
This was easily the worst of the entire batch of pretty lousy books on the trip. We may have traded it for a cup of coffee in Baños. Sorry, coffee vendor.
Well, at some point Patterson must have realized that even for weary travelers and people stranded in airports, tales of flying children were kind of a stretch. But the idea must have seemed too good to drop entirely, as the scenario has been tweaked and rebranded and turned into a series of books aimed at children, who presumably don’t balk at the idea that “recombinant DNA” results in children who can fly (and read minds!) And this novel is just bursting with themes that appeal to kids: Kids Alone In the Woods, Kids vs. Grownups, Loyal Friends.
The execution is strained, however. There’s a feeling of self-consciousness running through the book (to the point of having the narrator-heroine chastise the reader for starting with the third book in the series). There is also a kind of gimmicky ‘blog’ aspect introduced by one of the characters. This fourth-wall-breaking doesn’t really add much to the tale, though I laughed out loud at the ‘blog comments’, which were authentically spelled.
Past all these awkward details is a standard adventure with plenty of sci-fi elements, a band of righteous kids, and some super-super-super-villains. The story is frequently violent and I have a feeling that this series is more popular among boys than girls, despite the central character being a girl. In this respect, it’s a bit unusual--books aimed at boys almost exclusively feature boys in key roles (think CYOA books). Max, the heroine of this series, exhibits virtues generally tagged as ‘male’, though, such as toughness, aversion to tears, distaste for ‘mushy’ feelings, and physical strength, which tells me she has probably been written to appeal to boys.
And appeal she does, as the Maximum Ride series is tops on many bestseller lists. I suspect the readers overlap with fans of Eoin Colfer’s fantasy novels. If you’ve got a ten-year-old, you probably don’t need to read all these reviews anyway: you’re probably drowning in Maximum Ride titles already, and will be shelling out the clams for movie tix in 2008. It’s already a successful franchise, and I’m sure Patterson sleeps on a giant pile of hundred-dollar bills, but its shelf life is limited, and I don’t expect your grandkids to be reading this series.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Possibly I could swim to work.
Good Morning. I already had an intense fear of bridges. Now it may slide over to "crippling". If you are on the red line today and see someone swaying and humming while hyperventilating with their eyes closed tight as you're pulling into Charles, say hi!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Jokester
Not Exactly Stephen Colbert, but it played well to the crowd.
Now, almost anything will make him laugh. Tickling. Dancing. Jumping. Words beginning with 'B'. But this was the first time I noticed that he created a joke of his own. He was sitting in his crib drinking his bottle. We were gathered around trying to convince him that yes, it was indeed bedtime and he hadn't had a nap all day so what the hell? He was ignoring these reasonable pleas, sucking on the bottle and chattering away. I opened my mouth and he reached up and stuck the bottle in my mouth and laughed SO hard.
A much better milestone than dumb old teeth, right?
Now, almost anything will make him laugh. Tickling. Dancing. Jumping. Words beginning with 'B'. But this was the first time I noticed that he created a joke of his own. He was sitting in his crib drinking his bottle. We were gathered around trying to convince him that yes, it was indeed bedtime and he hadn't had a nap all day so what the hell? He was ignoring these reasonable pleas, sucking on the bottle and chattering away. I opened my mouth and he reached up and stuck the bottle in my mouth and laughed SO hard.
A much better milestone than dumb old teeth, right?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
It's Business Candy
how early is too early to eat the vendor candy out of the proof packages?
I've been here since 8.
If that makes a difference.
Secret message for fellow nerds:
OMG 38h40m!!!!
I've been here since 8.
If that makes a difference.
Secret message for fellow nerds:
OMG 38h40m!!!!
Monday, July 09, 2007
Baby's Social Calendar
There was a funeral last week, and a wedding this week, and in another couple weeks is the great-grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. We're logging a lot of carseat miles lately. Also becoming familiar with all of New England's rest areas. (Maine? could you please get some damn coffee? We are tired)
If you try to sit the kid on his butt, he stiffens his legs so he can 'stand'. Maybe he likes being all tall (all twenty-six inches tall) and looking around like the big kids. Speaking of big kids, he cannot get enough of them. And not just because they don't know the rules about no cookies for babies.
See him break it down with Gramma.
If you try to sit the kid on his butt, he stiffens his legs so he can 'stand'. Maybe he likes being all tall (all twenty-six inches tall) and looking around like the big kids. Speaking of big kids, he cannot get enough of them. And not just because they don't know the rules about no cookies for babies.
See him break it down with Gramma.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
The State
I know I don't blog about the baby much. Why? I dunno. He's always on my mind.
Here's the status
-he sits
-he claps his hands with glee
-he strums the guitar (the one that the burglars missed! ha! suck it, burglars!)
-he drinks from a glass if you hold it
-he wakes up throughout the night demanding food
-he rejects his crib
-he laughs all day
-he pulls hair
-he pinches faces
-he waves his right hand in an adorable manner
-he eats gallons of yogurt
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
oh my gosh! I have arrived!!
I got my first ever jackass commenter!!!
oh my gosh!
I can't believe it!
I am a Real Blogger Now, baby.
hee!
Oh I also wanted to point out this quote. The writer looks to the future with a wonderful sense of optimism and promise:
"It is only a matter of time before a same-sex couple married in Massachusetts finds a federal judge prepared to rule that under the US Constitution, their marriage license must be granted ''full faith and credit'' by every other state. Same-sex marriage will be the law of the land."
Thanks Jeff Jacoby! May it be so and in our lifetime!
heh!
oh my gosh!
I can't believe it!
I am a Real Blogger Now, baby.
hee!
Oh I also wanted to point out this quote. The writer looks to the future with a wonderful sense of optimism and promise:
"It is only a matter of time before a same-sex couple married in Massachusetts finds a federal judge prepared to rule that under the US Constitution, their marriage license must be granted ''full faith and credit'' by every other state. Same-sex marriage will be the law of the land."
Thanks Jeff Jacoby! May it be so and in our lifetime!
heh!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
reports greatly exaggerated
So I envisioned an all day vigil and shit. with dickering and filibusters. etc.
Instead I clicked over to the webcast and heard Murray say, "The speaker will call the roll,"
And then
pulse a racing
I listened and ticked off the NOs. 34!
And then, the machine vote began
(MUCH less dramatic, any screenwriters, take note, always use the roll call verbal vote in your movies)
And then...
it was over!
so quick. And now we have until 2012 at the least to just live, and breathe, and not worry. I would say I'll sleep better, but I definitely will not and for an entirely unrelated reason *cough*babykicksalot*cough*.
Anyway, I must thank the no voters, and I can even muster a little nod in the direction of the bathroom breakers who did not vote. Whatever it takes.
Instead I clicked over to the webcast and heard Murray say, "The speaker will call the roll,"
And then
pulse a racing
I listened and ticked off the NOs. 34!
And then, the machine vote began
(MUCH less dramatic, any screenwriters, take note, always use the roll call verbal vote in your movies)
And then...
it was over!
so quick. And now we have until 2012 at the least to just live, and breathe, and not worry. I would say I'll sleep better, but I definitely will not and for an entirely unrelated reason *cough*babykicksalot*cough*.
Anyway, I must thank the no voters, and I can even muster a little nod in the direction of the bathroom breakers who did not vote. Whatever it takes.
ConCon: Con Comme Un Sac des Marteaux
Just brushing up, in case we have to move to Canada.
For everyone on the edge of their seats, yet still trapped in their seats by the iron fist of Summer Hours, a list of the liveblogs of le concon con.
some dude's blog
bay windows
TV!
For everyone on the edge of their seats, yet still trapped in their seats by the iron fist of Summer Hours, a list of the liveblogs of le concon con.
some dude's blog
bay windows
TV!
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
but, but, I do not want them in my boat
As crazy as I find these people, I have to admit I don't understand why what they do is necessarily illegal. A lot of people have bunches of babydaddys/babymamas right? So who cares if they're doing it because they think god said so or any other reason?
They certainly wouldn't do the same for me but I say leave them to their eccentric life.
Meanwhile, in saner planes, there is a big important vote on Thursday. I am feeling fairly pessimistic and helpless about it. On one side you have people who would do anything to 'punish' me and my family, they are so invested in the idea that we're Wrong Wrong Wrong. In the middle you have people who share that feeling deep down, but are conflicted due to their belief in fairness, and cover it all up with the assertion that the Majority Should Rule, the People Must Vote, etc. On this side (the side of Right and Good, obviously), there are some very optimistic lobbyists who hope to change eight minds from the two previous categories, by Thursday.
You might be able to see why I am not terribly hopeful. People don't change their minds very often. Usually you need new information in order to change your mind. And all the information is already on the table:
-taking away marriage is mean and unfair
-letting a hostile majority vote on minority rights is disastrous
-get ready for another year of nasty nasty talk and those recorded phone calls*
They know what they are doing. And they are willing to do it. How can you change minds like that?
I am worried. I am worried for the state, I am worried for everyone who might want to get married in the future, I am worried for my own family. They say nothing will change for us personally but I'm sure that's what they said in Michigan and Wisconsin and Virginia and everywhere else, and it certainly did.
*these recorded phone messages make my blood boil with the heat of 1000 suns. it is beyond infuriating to pick up the phone and hear a disembodied voice saying that you don't deserve your rights AND YOU CAN'T EVEN YELL AT IT BECAUSE IT IS A RECORDING.
They certainly wouldn't do the same for me but I say leave them to their eccentric life.
Meanwhile, in saner planes, there is a big important vote on Thursday. I am feeling fairly pessimistic and helpless about it. On one side you have people who would do anything to 'punish' me and my family, they are so invested in the idea that we're Wrong Wrong Wrong. In the middle you have people who share that feeling deep down, but are conflicted due to their belief in fairness, and cover it all up with the assertion that the Majority Should Rule, the People Must Vote, etc. On this side (the side of Right and Good, obviously), there are some very optimistic lobbyists who hope to change eight minds from the two previous categories, by Thursday.
You might be able to see why I am not terribly hopeful. People don't change their minds very often. Usually you need new information in order to change your mind. And all the information is already on the table:
-taking away marriage is mean and unfair
-letting a hostile majority vote on minority rights is disastrous
-get ready for another year of nasty nasty talk and those recorded phone calls*
They know what they are doing. And they are willing to do it. How can you change minds like that?
I am worried. I am worried for the state, I am worried for everyone who might want to get married in the future, I am worried for my own family. They say nothing will change for us personally but I'm sure that's what they said in Michigan and Wisconsin and Virginia and everywhere else, and it certainly did.
*these recorded phone messages make my blood boil with the heat of 1000 suns. it is beyond infuriating to pick up the phone and hear a disembodied voice saying that you don't deserve your rights AND YOU CAN'T EVEN YELL AT IT BECAUSE IT IS A RECORDING.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Where Were You Three Years Ago Today?
I was at work, and utterly exhausted from having stayed up until 4 AM.
It was the Best Night Ever though.
i am in this picture but only barely.
It was the Best Night Ever though.
i am in this picture but only barely.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
parties for jerks
Last week some "important" people showed up from HQ and canned about 15 people. "Business needs," they said. "Budget slow sales project schedules blah blah you're fired!"
This was just the latest round...they've visited a couple times over the past few months. It's become so that when they show up, we know what's going down. When there's a meeting on short notice in the middle of the day, we know. It's always bad news.
Anyway, this week one of those VIPs is retiring. Needless to say the company is making a huge fuss about it. She's having a fete in each remote office (total eight! eight parties) and we were all bullied into signing a going-away book for her. Well. I don't know if anyone else felt bullied. But I felt super phony and gross signing it. But someone handed it to me and said "sign the page!"
Like yay! You're leaving and you get cake! Everyone you just fired gets no cake, no job, no health insurance!
I had a dream that they came in and said, anyone who is planning to take vacation days-you're fired.
I believe I have, how you say, resentment?
This was just the latest round...they've visited a couple times over the past few months. It's become so that when they show up, we know what's going down. When there's a meeting on short notice in the middle of the day, we know. It's always bad news.
Anyway, this week one of those VIPs is retiring. Needless to say the company is making a huge fuss about it. She's having a fete in each remote office (total eight! eight parties) and we were all bullied into signing a going-away book for her. Well. I don't know if anyone else felt bullied. But I felt super phony and gross signing it. But someone handed it to me and said "sign the page!"
Like yay! You're leaving and you get cake! Everyone you just fired gets no cake, no job, no health insurance!
I had a dream that they came in and said, anyone who is planning to take vacation days-you're fired.
I believe I have, how you say, resentment?
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
cousins who care
I got the saddest text message on my cell phone
"You know we're still cousin's [sic]
even though you
don't talk to me anymore.
This is Rahshaan just in case you forgot. Love Ya."
aw
Is a wrong number making Rahshaan's cousin look like a douchebag?
Or did Rahshaan's cousin change his number to escape Rahshaan?
Either way I had to respond with "sry wrong numbr" (I have never gotten the hang of text messaging. I'm OLD, yo.) It was too mean to leave Rahshaan hanging. Thinking his cousin was ignoring his texts.
I am just worried he will think it a humorous joke or a brushoff. Much like Ersatz Shirky McLazy's mother did.
I also get calls for Raji.
I do not know him either.
How many people had my damn number?
"You know we're still cousin's [sic]
even though you
don't talk to me anymore.
This is Rahshaan just in case you forgot. Love Ya."
aw
Is a wrong number making Rahshaan's cousin look like a douchebag?
Or did Rahshaan's cousin change his number to escape Rahshaan?
Either way I had to respond with "sry wrong numbr" (I have never gotten the hang of text messaging. I'm OLD, yo.) It was too mean to leave Rahshaan hanging. Thinking his cousin was ignoring his texts.
I am just worried he will think it a humorous joke or a brushoff. Much like Ersatz Shirky McLazy's mother did.
I also get calls for Raji.
I do not know him either.
How many people had my damn number?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Fuckers!
If you happen to see a three-man band of buskers with guitar, violin, and churango, be a pal and let me know, I gotta come kick their music-loving asses.
Answer in the form of a question, champ
My boss just won a bunch of dough on The Price Is Right. And a kayak.
I would like to get on a quiz show. I think I could win something easier than Jeopardy but harder than the show with fifth graders.
Or maybe America's Next Top Candy Eater.
I would like to get on a quiz show. I think I could win something easier than Jeopardy but harder than the show with fifth graders.
Or maybe America's Next Top Candy Eater.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
And when they bark they shoot bees at you
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Murder Pizza Retrial
I see in the news that the murder pizza guy is getting a new trial. This was a big murder case in our neighborhood. I call the pizza place "Murder Pizza" which I think has a delightfully horrifying sound to it. In fact I think the pizza place should just accept fate and change their name. It is such a crummy little hole, with bars on the windows, it should totally just embrace the whole sordid thing. We're Murder Pizza! Free Pizza if you Get Murdered While Picking Up Your Pizza! Cannot be combined with other offers.
Such a weird case though. I have such a vivid mental picture of the whole thing for some reason. Like a re-enactment on America's Most Wanted. There's this kinda stout kid, wearing shorts and a yellow slicker. He's weaving down the sidewalk drunk. Then when the other kid starts talking trash, he carefully unfolds a swiss army knife, maybe first he gets the wrong blade (scissors? I didn't want scissors!).
What the hell, you know? A swiss army knife? It's not even menacing. Like if your getaway car is a VW bug or something.
Such a weird case though. I have such a vivid mental picture of the whole thing for some reason. Like a re-enactment on America's Most Wanted. There's this kinda stout kid, wearing shorts and a yellow slicker. He's weaving down the sidewalk drunk. Then when the other kid starts talking trash, he carefully unfolds a swiss army knife, maybe first he gets the wrong blade (scissors? I didn't want scissors!).
What the hell, you know? A swiss army knife? It's not even menacing. Like if your getaway car is a VW bug or something.
Friday, April 06, 2007
thanks all for the kind comments about the poor cat. We miss her very much. Sometimes I enter a room expecting her to be there sleeping. Last night I dreamed she came back and was fine. I was like, how? how did she walk all the way home? She was not even an evil zombie cat.
Once I worked with a guy who told a story about the cat coming back. He was living with roommates somewhere in Allston-Brighton. There was some old tomcat that was hanging around. They liked the cat OK but this cat was 'intact' as they say and therefore a nuisance of howling fighting and stinkin. So one night they put the cat in a car and drove him all the way up to the Cambridge common. Folks not living in Boston: it's a few miles, but across a river. A big river.
A few days later of course, the cat was back meowing at the window. He said he felt SO bad about it. I picture a little puss in boots with a bindle, making his way across the bridge. Homeward bound! Man, that guy told great stories. He was awesome. I wish I worked with him again. for one thing he reminded me of my dad, mostly because he had the same mustache. And I find that amusing. Plus the great stories. One time he got in a fight at an all-night diner and bit a guy on the leg! ha! Well. It was funnier when he told it. Man.
here's the part of the post where I bitch about the weather. Why is it below freezing again?
Once I worked with a guy who told a story about the cat coming back. He was living with roommates somewhere in Allston-Brighton. There was some old tomcat that was hanging around. They liked the cat OK but this cat was 'intact' as they say and therefore a nuisance of howling fighting and stinkin. So one night they put the cat in a car and drove him all the way up to the Cambridge common. Folks not living in Boston: it's a few miles, but across a river. A big river.
A few days later of course, the cat was back meowing at the window. He said he felt SO bad about it. I picture a little puss in boots with a bindle, making his way across the bridge. Homeward bound! Man, that guy told great stories. He was awesome. I wish I worked with him again. for one thing he reminded me of my dad, mostly because he had the same mustache. And I find that amusing. Plus the great stories. One time he got in a fight at an all-night diner and bit a guy on the leg! ha! Well. It was funnier when he told it. Man.
here's the part of the post where I bitch about the weather. Why is it below freezing again?
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
how delightful
it's snowing, or should I say, it's fucking snowing.
My sister was both a model houseguest and drove me insane.
My sister was both a model houseguest and drove me insane.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Today's Winner
I recently spent dozens of minutes creating a detailed set of instructions telling editors exactly how to create a tearsheet and submit their corrections to me. I then held a meeting where I went over the instructions WITH visual aids. I demonstrated why the tearsheet was important and what it needs to show.
Moments ago I was handed a stack of crappy photocopies with corrections scrawled on them from an editor who announced he didn't "feel like making a real tearsheet."
he's officially lazier than me! woo!
My sister is coming to visit this weekend. Who knows what we will do. Oh, forget it I know exactly. I will worry for days about how to entertain her, what to feed her, and how to make her comfortable. She will arrive, borrow a set of keys, and take off to party with her young and energetic friends until post-subway-hours, then sleep until noon. rawk!
It'll be fine...we just have very little common interest wise.
Moments ago I was handed a stack of crappy photocopies with corrections scrawled on them from an editor who announced he didn't "feel like making a real tearsheet."
he's officially lazier than me! woo!
My sister is coming to visit this weekend. Who knows what we will do. Oh, forget it I know exactly. I will worry for days about how to entertain her, what to feed her, and how to make her comfortable. She will arrive, borrow a set of keys, and take off to party with her young and energetic friends until post-subway-hours, then sleep until noon. rawk!
It'll be fine...we just have very little common interest wise.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Deathwatch: Cat
Here's some sad news. The poor cat, the Nighttime Howler, is kind of on her last legs.
When we came home from Shelbyville in December, we realized that she was completely deaf. She couldn't hear the kid howl and made no sign that she could hear us anymore either. Since then we "call" her by stomping on the floor.
The next thing that happened was we took her to the vet for her checkup. She had lost weight and was very thin. The vet took blood, which is a horrible ordeal for both the cat and anyone listening to the cat. Turned out she has some thyroid problem. This is on top of her existing kidney problem that we've known about for years.
So now we give her a little pill every day. At first we wrestled her down and stuffed it in her mouth. Then I found that you could just hide it in a treat and she would scarf it down. The vet said "see you in six months!", which implies of course that the cat will live at least six months.
But her appetite is very low, and she hardly ever eats her food. I wouldn't either, it is gross, but she used to eat it. She is very thin and light.
The other night she tried to walk across the room and her legs wobbled and slipped. She had to lie down and take a rest halfway between water glass and couch.
So we've been feeding her cat junk food, petting her, and letting her in the bedroom at night (previously forbidden after the broken glass incident). She sleeps all the time. I carry her to her food dish so she can eat three little kibbles.
Octuplet Dazzle got that cat when she was just eleven years old. The cat was, by all accounts, a very cute kitten. We inherited her when my mother in law went on one of her long trips to India, and we just never gave her back. That was seven years ago. So, I'm bummed out.
When we came home from Shelbyville in December, we realized that she was completely deaf. She couldn't hear the kid howl and made no sign that she could hear us anymore either. Since then we "call" her by stomping on the floor.
The next thing that happened was we took her to the vet for her checkup. She had lost weight and was very thin. The vet took blood, which is a horrible ordeal for both the cat and anyone listening to the cat. Turned out she has some thyroid problem. This is on top of her existing kidney problem that we've known about for years.
So now we give her a little pill every day. At first we wrestled her down and stuffed it in her mouth. Then I found that you could just hide it in a treat and she would scarf it down. The vet said "see you in six months!", which implies of course that the cat will live at least six months.
But her appetite is very low, and she hardly ever eats her food. I wouldn't either, it is gross, but she used to eat it. She is very thin and light.
The other night she tried to walk across the room and her legs wobbled and slipped. She had to lie down and take a rest halfway between water glass and couch.
So we've been feeding her cat junk food, petting her, and letting her in the bedroom at night (previously forbidden after the broken glass incident). She sleeps all the time. I carry her to her food dish so she can eat three little kibbles.
Octuplet Dazzle got that cat when she was just eleven years old. The cat was, by all accounts, a very cute kitten. We inherited her when my mother in law went on one of her long trips to India, and we just never gave her back. That was seven years ago. So, I'm bummed out.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
poor puppy
The drug ads on TV with the cartoon puppy make me inexplicably sad. The puppy! and the boy! Drugs came between them! Now they are alone! it's very sad, if you think about it, and if you are insane.
There were a rough few hours this weekend while our computer was dead. But I got a part and fixed it, and we can all relax now, constant stream of internet into the household is restored, now wikipedia can recommence sending stupid information into our brains.
I didn't grow up with any internet but I can't imagine how you do anything without it. A phone number? Instructions for the coffeemaker? Why does the baby do that? Shopping? Oh, series of tubes, how would we ever live without you.
I am done with snow. Snow? You can suck it.
There were a rough few hours this weekend while our computer was dead. But I got a part and fixed it, and we can all relax now, constant stream of internet into the household is restored, now wikipedia can recommence sending stupid information into our brains.
I didn't grow up with any internet but I can't imagine how you do anything without it. A phone number? Instructions for the coffeemaker? Why does the baby do that? Shopping? Oh, series of tubes, how would we ever live without you.
I am done with snow. Snow? You can suck it.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Lousy Smarch
DAMN it is cold outside.
I know everyone thinks it is stupid to have dst early this year but, as someone who doesn't have to be at work until nine, I am excited. sorry, early birds. But you have that whole worm thing going for you, right?
I know everyone thinks it is stupid to have dst early this year but, as someone who doesn't have to be at work until nine, I am excited. sorry, early birds. But you have that whole worm thing going for you, right?
Thursday, March 01, 2007
My Secret Identity
There is another person living nearby named Shirky McLazy. (that is, she shares my first and last names). She chooses not to have a home telephone or maybe not to list her number (did you know it costs extra to be unlisted? fuck that, sez me, I'm cheap). This creates a certain amount of annoyance for me, because anyone who looks her up in the phone book gets me and calls me and asks to speak with me and then informs me that I have a dentist appointment or offers condolences for having lost my job or other very alarming things.
Once I got a call from my cousin Amanda McLazy and she said she was in town, wasn't that great, and we chatted for a few minutes before I realized that both us Shirkys apparently had cousins named Amanda and this one was not the accomplished lobsterwoman from Maine that I had supposed. She was embarrassed but I tell the story at every family gathering, it amuses me so.
I have begun getting emails from the other one's mom (you'd think that your mother would know your effing address). Mom is obviously new to email cause she sends the kind of horrible, horrible forwards that I really should only come from your grandmother. I've emailed this woman a few times now gently explaining that I am not her daughter, I am not from Pittsburgh, stop emailing me crap poetry and urban legends, but maybe Bizarro Shirky has a wacky sense of humor cause Bizarro mom keeps coming back with "Ha ha! You're such a kidder! Love Mom!"
I wish I could use this whole situation for hilarious pranking but I can't really think of anything funny.
Someday I will run into the other one, and I can give her a bunch of messages. Until then...hope she doesn't rob any banks.
Once I got a call from my cousin Amanda McLazy and she said she was in town, wasn't that great, and we chatted for a few minutes before I realized that both us Shirkys apparently had cousins named Amanda and this one was not the accomplished lobsterwoman from Maine that I had supposed. She was embarrassed but I tell the story at every family gathering, it amuses me so.
I have begun getting emails from the other one's mom (you'd think that your mother would know your effing address). Mom is obviously new to email cause she sends the kind of horrible, horrible forwards that I really should only come from your grandmother. I've emailed this woman a few times now gently explaining that I am not her daughter, I am not from Pittsburgh, stop emailing me crap poetry and urban legends, but maybe Bizarro Shirky has a wacky sense of humor cause Bizarro mom keeps coming back with "Ha ha! You're such a kidder! Love Mom!"
I wish I could use this whole situation for hilarious pranking but I can't really think of anything funny.
Someday I will run into the other one, and I can give her a bunch of messages. Until then...hope she doesn't rob any banks.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Another
Probably the weirdest compulsion I have is scotch tape. I love the smell of scotch tape but I can't just sniff it. I take pieces and play with them until they are gray and unsticky. At the end of the day there is a little pile in front of my keyboard. It is wasteful and I have tried to stop. Here are the ways you can quit your tape habit:
1. lotion on your hands interferes with the sensation of stick and pull that you get from fingers on tape
2. don't have tape at your desk
3. have some other kind of tape, tape that doesn't have the same delicious smell and stickyness. Substandard tape is not satisfying at all. Packing tape, masking tape, and removable tape are all crap. I need regular scotch tape.
I would eat it if it were edible. I am sure.
In other news, I have a persistent eyelid twitch that is uncomfortable. what would stop that? drugs? acupuncture? wishing? I do not think it is caused, as cartoons would have me believe, by stress. Nor do I drink any caffeine. I think it's just one of those things. I am getting old.
1. lotion on your hands interferes with the sensation of stick and pull that you get from fingers on tape
2. don't have tape at your desk
3. have some other kind of tape, tape that doesn't have the same delicious smell and stickyness. Substandard tape is not satisfying at all. Packing tape, masking tape, and removable tape are all crap. I need regular scotch tape.
I would eat it if it were edible. I am sure.
In other news, I have a persistent eyelid twitch that is uncomfortable. what would stop that? drugs? acupuncture? wishing? I do not think it is caused, as cartoons would have me believe, by stress. Nor do I drink any caffeine. I think it's just one of those things. I am getting old.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
nothing to report
At the present time, there's nothing interesting me that I feel like writing down. For one thing, it stresses me out to discuss child-related things. The threat, however imagined, of disapproval from others leaves me tongue-tied. Like, did you know some people don't approve of Pepsi-B for babies? Ridiculous. It has a B right in the name.
I don't even want to say "I'm back at work" because of my fear that people will say "How could you leave that sweet baby?" The answer is, I extracted my heart with a corkscrew. Or so it seemed.
So let's resort to lists. Here's a list of things that make me mildly weird.
1. I can't stand being asked "What are you reading?" when I have a book in my hand. Ever since I was a child this question has filled me with inexplicable and irrational rage. I have no theory about why this is.
2. I do not like shrimp, or cheesecake. I know other people find these luxury food items irresistible. I find them revolting. But that just leaves more for you!
3. Previously-mentioned fear of ocean and its inhabitants (extends to aquariums, which I have to sprint through, in order to not die of fear). I have been in the ocean maybe 2 or 3 times, cautiously, and each time ended with me hallucinating a giant fish brushing my legs and a comically flailing race back to the beach for a delicious dose of skin cancer. Apparently the real threat of melanoma scares me less than the purely imaginary threat of fish cooties. Go figure.
I don't even want to say "I'm back at work" because of my fear that people will say "How could you leave that sweet baby?" The answer is, I extracted my heart with a corkscrew. Or so it seemed.
So let's resort to lists. Here's a list of things that make me mildly weird.
1. I can't stand being asked "What are you reading?" when I have a book in my hand. Ever since I was a child this question has filled me with inexplicable and irrational rage. I have no theory about why this is.
2. I do not like shrimp, or cheesecake. I know other people find these luxury food items irresistible. I find them revolting. But that just leaves more for you!
3. Previously-mentioned fear of ocean and its inhabitants (extends to aquariums, which I have to sprint through, in order to not die of fear). I have been in the ocean maybe 2 or 3 times, cautiously, and each time ended with me hallucinating a giant fish brushing my legs and a comically flailing race back to the beach for a delicious dose of skin cancer. Apparently the real threat of melanoma scares me less than the purely imaginary threat of fish cooties. Go figure.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
Monday, January 01, 2007
The End: The Homecomening
Early the next morning, we packed our bags into the car. We strapped the car seat into the rental car for the first time. We marveled at how much fucking crap we had and mourned the end of traveling light.
I snuck into the living room to put presents under the tree. Just as we were about to leave, the family came downstairs to say goodbye. The other adopting family gave us a tiny sweater for the baby and we wished them good luck with their adoption.
And then we were off. Alone with the kid for the first time ever as we drove toward the airport. He was treated to some new words as I got lost, too.
He was a dream baby the whole time, slept on both legs of the trip and only woke up in between to chug a bottle. Everything was like a dream.
My aunt was going to meet us at Logan, but as we came down the escalator, my sneaky mom was there too, snapping photos. They picked up all our luggage and brought us home and put food in our fridge (and threw out the food that was in there to begin with. Whoops.) They took a bunch of pictures with the baby and then excused themselves.
Hard as it was to believe, we were home for good.
I snuck into the living room to put presents under the tree. Just as we were about to leave, the family came downstairs to say goodbye. The other adopting family gave us a tiny sweater for the baby and we wished them good luck with their adoption.
And then we were off. Alone with the kid for the first time ever as we drove toward the airport. He was treated to some new words as I got lost, too.
He was a dream baby the whole time, slept on both legs of the trip and only woke up in between to chug a bottle. Everything was like a dream.
My aunt was going to meet us at Logan, but as we came down the escalator, my sneaky mom was there too, snapping photos. They picked up all our luggage and brought us home and put food in our fridge (and threw out the food that was in there to begin with. Whoops.) They took a bunch of pictures with the baby and then excused themselves.
Hard as it was to believe, we were home for good.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Part 2b: the fosterening continues
when we left our intrepid gang, they were stuck in Shelbyville for Christmas and New Year's, living in the basement of a foster home, and missing their ancient cat....
THE ACTIVITIES
One night, we went to the son's school Christmas play. It was a public school but they did a full-on Santa and Elves deal with no attempt to pretend they were down with non-Jesus December. I thought that was a little weird. Isn't it? Don't most schools stay away from the red and the green, because of all the kids that will feel left out? Or is everyone in Shelbyville a Jesus Christian? Weird.
Another time we went to the mall. This was the site of our very first (by no means last) super dumbass parenting trick. We totally forgot the diaper bag. I was so ashamed of this I didn't mention it to the foster mom or the other adopting family because, hello, I didn't want to be reported. We were still under surveillance! Now that I think about it, the other mom would totally have shared her kid's diapers and milk with us. As it was...we were standing in an enormous Shelbyville Mall (which had no bookstore, by the way.) with a starving hungry baby who was screaming. Luckily, we have other ways to feed the baby a little bit. So I stood in a bathroom stall, not touching anything, feeding the baby to calm him down. He didn't get a full meal but I was very pleased. Always prepared! like a boy scout!
Another time we went to the zoo! Shelbyville has a big zoo with all kinds of animals. The foster mom's sister in law works at the zoo and not only got us in free but brought out a snake for the kids to pet! Sadly, the kid is a bit young for snake petting. But the older kids enjoyed it. They had a whole "Herpaquarium" which comes from "Herp" which means "Disgusting" and "Aquarium" which means "Revolting". I am hoping to not pass on my crippling fear of creeping, crawling, swimming, sliming creatures, but I absolutely could not open my eyes walking through there. Shiver.
THE GAMES
We went to walmart (did you know I had never been in one before this trip? Well, I hadn't. But it was not that interesting.) and bought Connect Four, Don't Break the Ice!, Barrel of Monkeys, and Set. We later realized that perhaps the young children of the house might also enjoy the games. That is how we ended up spending entire days playing Barrel of Monkeys. At which I kicked the asses of everyone under 10. HA!
THE COOKING
I was desperate to eat something that had not originated in any type of pouch, and the foster mom told me she hated to cook, so I made pizza with the kids. It was hilarious but not as crispy as I like really. We also made cookies which was the messiest mess that ever messed. I wish we could have done it twice. It was fun.
THE COURT DATE
In Shelbyville, the parents have to go to a judge in order to relinquish. This is where the judge asks if they are OK with this etc. I don't really know exactly how it goes down. All I know is that the day was the 20th, at ten AM. We talked with Suzanne the night before. We didn't talk about the adoption at all...just about her other kids, and Christmas, and stuff.
The morning of the 20th I watched the clock creep closer and closer to ten. I kissed the baby one million times and whispered that I would miss him if this didn't happen. The four year old made me sit still while she did my hair (six bows! I looked hot, I tell you what). I was sitting still when the phone rang. It was the social worker calling to tell us that it was complete. Suzanne and Richard were still certain that they wanted to do this and had declared such to the judge.
The big part was over. I cried. The four year old asked me why I was crying. "Like your mom was talking about, grownups sometimes cry when they're happy. I'm happy because Godot gets to come home with us," I said. "You mean the birthmom and birthdad decided?" "Yes, they decided."
THE PLOT THICKENS (OR ANNOYS)
A couple hours later, we got a call that the Shelbyville agency needed one more piece of paper from Massachusetts. HOwever, the Massachusetts social worker was in an all day meeting and could not be reached before 1:30, when they needed this magical paper. A pissed-off Octuplet Dazzle set out for a long walk, since this would mean we were definitely here for New Year's. Our one percent had evaporated just like that.
THE TWIST
About thirty minutes after Octuplet Dazzle left, I heard the phone ring upstairs. Foster mom answered. "OK, I'll tell them," I heard her say. Then she came down the stairs. I thought she'd update me on this magical piece of paper (never did hear what that was), but she said "It's done. You can go home."
I was stunned. After all that angst? We could go where? I looked around then remembered that OD was gone. "She went out for a walk," I said lamely. (Octuplet Dazzle Loses Her Cell Phone Days Before This Trip is a different story)
I invited the family out to dinner but they had plans, so I ordered in CHinese for them. I waited and waited desperately by the door for OD to return but she was out walking around, probably still pissed off. Finally I left the baby with the foster mom and drove out to find her, which I did not.
Two hours after she'd left, she came back. "We can go home," I said, "it's done!"
She did a total cartoon double take "Whaaa?" thing. I had to explain a couple of times.
"We have a flight at ten AM. We're going home."
THE ACTIVITIES
One night, we went to the son's school Christmas play. It was a public school but they did a full-on Santa and Elves deal with no attempt to pretend they were down with non-Jesus December. I thought that was a little weird. Isn't it? Don't most schools stay away from the red and the green, because of all the kids that will feel left out? Or is everyone in Shelbyville a Jesus Christian? Weird.
Another time we went to the mall. This was the site of our very first (by no means last) super dumbass parenting trick. We totally forgot the diaper bag. I was so ashamed of this I didn't mention it to the foster mom or the other adopting family because, hello, I didn't want to be reported. We were still under surveillance! Now that I think about it, the other mom would totally have shared her kid's diapers and milk with us. As it was...we were standing in an enormous Shelbyville Mall (which had no bookstore, by the way.) with a starving hungry baby who was screaming. Luckily, we have other ways to feed the baby a little bit. So I stood in a bathroom stall, not touching anything, feeding the baby to calm him down. He didn't get a full meal but I was very pleased. Always prepared! like a boy scout!
Another time we went to the zoo! Shelbyville has a big zoo with all kinds of animals. The foster mom's sister in law works at the zoo and not only got us in free but brought out a snake for the kids to pet! Sadly, the kid is a bit young for snake petting. But the older kids enjoyed it. They had a whole "Herpaquarium" which comes from "Herp" which means "Disgusting" and "Aquarium" which means "Revolting". I am hoping to not pass on my crippling fear of creeping, crawling, swimming, sliming creatures, but I absolutely could not open my eyes walking through there. Shiver.
THE GAMES
We went to walmart (did you know I had never been in one before this trip? Well, I hadn't. But it was not that interesting.) and bought Connect Four, Don't Break the Ice!, Barrel of Monkeys, and Set. We later realized that perhaps the young children of the house might also enjoy the games. That is how we ended up spending entire days playing Barrel of Monkeys. At which I kicked the asses of everyone under 10. HA!
THE COOKING
I was desperate to eat something that had not originated in any type of pouch, and the foster mom told me she hated to cook, so I made pizza with the kids. It was hilarious but not as crispy as I like really. We also made cookies which was the messiest mess that ever messed. I wish we could have done it twice. It was fun.
THE COURT DATE
In Shelbyville, the parents have to go to a judge in order to relinquish. This is where the judge asks if they are OK with this etc. I don't really know exactly how it goes down. All I know is that the day was the 20th, at ten AM. We talked with Suzanne the night before. We didn't talk about the adoption at all...just about her other kids, and Christmas, and stuff.
The morning of the 20th I watched the clock creep closer and closer to ten. I kissed the baby one million times and whispered that I would miss him if this didn't happen. The four year old made me sit still while she did my hair (six bows! I looked hot, I tell you what). I was sitting still when the phone rang. It was the social worker calling to tell us that it was complete. Suzanne and Richard were still certain that they wanted to do this and had declared such to the judge.
The big part was over. I cried. The four year old asked me why I was crying. "Like your mom was talking about, grownups sometimes cry when they're happy. I'm happy because Godot gets to come home with us," I said. "You mean the birthmom and birthdad decided?" "Yes, they decided."
THE PLOT THICKENS (OR ANNOYS)
A couple hours later, we got a call that the Shelbyville agency needed one more piece of paper from Massachusetts. HOwever, the Massachusetts social worker was in an all day meeting and could not be reached before 1:30, when they needed this magical paper. A pissed-off Octuplet Dazzle set out for a long walk, since this would mean we were definitely here for New Year's. Our one percent had evaporated just like that.
THE TWIST
About thirty minutes after Octuplet Dazzle left, I heard the phone ring upstairs. Foster mom answered. "OK, I'll tell them," I heard her say. Then she came down the stairs. I thought she'd update me on this magical piece of paper (never did hear what that was), but she said "It's done. You can go home."
I was stunned. After all that angst? We could go where? I looked around then remembered that OD was gone. "She went out for a walk," I said lamely. (Octuplet Dazzle Loses Her Cell Phone Days Before This Trip is a different story)
I invited the family out to dinner but they had plans, so I ordered in CHinese for them. I waited and waited desperately by the door for OD to return but she was out walking around, probably still pissed off. Finally I left the baby with the foster mom and drove out to find her, which I did not.
Two hours after she'd left, she came back. "We can go home," I said, "it's done!"
She did a total cartoon double take "Whaaa?" thing. I had to explain a couple of times.
"We have a flight at ten AM. We're going home."
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Part 2: The Fosterening
I have to start by explaining that I have never, ever, ever been a good journaler. My past is littered with lovely blank books that have the first six pages written on. Every overseas trip I've ever taken began with long and loving journal entries and ended with "Soup for dinner. Aiport noisy. Ran out of kleenex." So this next bit is a bit jumbled.
THE PLACE
We followed the social worker's tiny car about 15 miles across town (I know! why are towns so big out there!), desperate to not get separated from the car that held our kid. The area was very suburban, very residential, very new. The houses were enormous by our standards, and modest by other people's.
THE FOSTER MOTHER
This woman turned out to be the nicest woman on the face of the earth. Seriously. I had been very worried since finding out that the family was very religious. First of all, we are not religious in the least. You have to go back three generations in my family to find churchgoers of any sort. Octuplet Dazzle's mother is more religious but only in a way that an Evangelical Christian would describe as "heathen". Then, obviously, we're hugely gay. So.
But forget all that. She was super, super nice. She welcomed us, and her 17th baby of the year, into her home.
THE ROOM
we stayed in their basement, which was a nice big room with a fridge and a microwave and a rocking chair and a TV. And a bed, duh. We unpacked all our delicious microwavable foods that we'd had at the motel. Here are foods you can make in a microwave:
rice a roni (the san francisco treat)
indian food in a pouch (tasty bite and similar)
frozen peas
baked potatoes
nachos
soup
We put the baby in his bassinet. So cute!
THE FAMILY
Later that night the kids were home from school and came down to see the baby. The five year old daughter of the house, I'll call her Sharky because her real name is a lot like my real name, is crazy for babies. She gave him a little kiss. We gave the family the chocolates that I had lovingly made and brought all the way from Boston. We chatted with the family a little. The dad is big into movies. I secretly had known that already, having googled him. heh. The seven year old boy was a total grinning ball of motion. We watched Sharky perform her Cinderella Ballet DVD dance steps, and I felt lucky to have a boy. Not that there's anything wrong with Cinderella Ballet DVDs.
THE DAYS AND NIGHTS
Nights: awake often, at every sniff and sneeze and snore. The days: kinda dull. It was super warm in Shelbyville, and we went for walks. I felt nervous that we'd never find our way back because I am not used to winding cul de sacs and identical architecture. But we did. One night we went to the library. They were very sweet and checked out books for us to stave off the boredom. We weren't allowed to take the baby anywhere by ourselves really. SOmetimes I would drive to walmart for diapers and rice a roni and canned pineapple. Mostly we hung around in the house or outside in the sun.
THE OTHER BABY
two days after we arrived, another baby came on the scene. She was a little bigger and a little younger than Godot. She didn't have a family yet. THen they found her a family in Minnesota (yah). I could only imagine that family's excitement. Imagine! one minute no baby, the next minute, a baby!
THE MINNESOTANS
They arrived in a huge pack. Mom, Dad, two small children, and Dad's parents. Holy crap! We found them friendly and interesting. Their other two children had been adopted from another country and were 4.5 and 2.5 years old. we ordered in chinese food with them. Their 4.5 year old daughter was really fun. She loved the baby too. We let her hold him and feed him. She was also absolutely mystified by our status. Are you his mom? Is he your brother? Is she your sister? Friend? Cousin? Mom? (ouch, that) Do you have a husband? She eventually decided that I was merely a large and awkward kid. "Pretend you're a grownup," she'd say. I'm trying, I would think. Have been for years. Her dad laughed when he heard her call Godot my baby brother. "You can explain it to her," he said, "we don't mind." Which I know he meant nicely and it was nice, he was very nice, but still, really, you don't mind my existing, that's big of you, really....ouch.
THE SOCIAL WORKER
We had to have a post placement visit there in the foster home. It was fine, but that was the point when we were informed that Kentucky ICPC was all run by one woman. One woman who was taking vacation between the 22nd and the 2nd. THe court hearing was for the 20th. "THere's a one percent chance it could happen on the 21st," she said. "But you should make plans for Christmas and new year's here." So we did. We also did our best to ensure that that one percent was at least doubled. But what could we do? YOu can't fight City Hall, as they say. We tried to put a good spin on it. After all, Christmas is not a big deal for us (see above re: religiosity). THe big deal was that we wanted to be in our home! with our food! and our cat!
THE LAZY BLOGGER
Here's where the lazy blogger takes a break.
Next: The Fosterening Continued; The Homecomening
THE PLACE
We followed the social worker's tiny car about 15 miles across town (I know! why are towns so big out there!), desperate to not get separated from the car that held our kid. The area was very suburban, very residential, very new. The houses were enormous by our standards, and modest by other people's.
THE FOSTER MOTHER
This woman turned out to be the nicest woman on the face of the earth. Seriously. I had been very worried since finding out that the family was very religious. First of all, we are not religious in the least. You have to go back three generations in my family to find churchgoers of any sort. Octuplet Dazzle's mother is more religious but only in a way that an Evangelical Christian would describe as "heathen". Then, obviously, we're hugely gay. So.
But forget all that. She was super, super nice. She welcomed us, and her 17th baby of the year, into her home.
THE ROOM
we stayed in their basement, which was a nice big room with a fridge and a microwave and a rocking chair and a TV. And a bed, duh. We unpacked all our delicious microwavable foods that we'd had at the motel. Here are foods you can make in a microwave:
rice a roni (the san francisco treat)
indian food in a pouch (tasty bite and similar)
frozen peas
baked potatoes
nachos
soup
We put the baby in his bassinet. So cute!
THE FAMILY
Later that night the kids were home from school and came down to see the baby. The five year old daughter of the house, I'll call her Sharky because her real name is a lot like my real name, is crazy for babies. She gave him a little kiss. We gave the family the chocolates that I had lovingly made and brought all the way from Boston. We chatted with the family a little. The dad is big into movies. I secretly had known that already, having googled him. heh. The seven year old boy was a total grinning ball of motion. We watched Sharky perform her Cinderella Ballet DVD dance steps, and I felt lucky to have a boy. Not that there's anything wrong with Cinderella Ballet DVDs.
THE DAYS AND NIGHTS
Nights: awake often, at every sniff and sneeze and snore. The days: kinda dull. It was super warm in Shelbyville, and we went for walks. I felt nervous that we'd never find our way back because I am not used to winding cul de sacs and identical architecture. But we did. One night we went to the library. They were very sweet and checked out books for us to stave off the boredom. We weren't allowed to take the baby anywhere by ourselves really. SOmetimes I would drive to walmart for diapers and rice a roni and canned pineapple. Mostly we hung around in the house or outside in the sun.
THE OTHER BABY
two days after we arrived, another baby came on the scene. She was a little bigger and a little younger than Godot. She didn't have a family yet. THen they found her a family in Minnesota (yah). I could only imagine that family's excitement. Imagine! one minute no baby, the next minute, a baby!
THE MINNESOTANS
They arrived in a huge pack. Mom, Dad, two small children, and Dad's parents. Holy crap! We found them friendly and interesting. Their other two children had been adopted from another country and were 4.5 and 2.5 years old. we ordered in chinese food with them. Their 4.5 year old daughter was really fun. She loved the baby too. We let her hold him and feed him. She was also absolutely mystified by our status. Are you his mom? Is he your brother? Is she your sister? Friend? Cousin? Mom? (ouch, that) Do you have a husband? She eventually decided that I was merely a large and awkward kid. "Pretend you're a grownup," she'd say. I'm trying, I would think. Have been for years. Her dad laughed when he heard her call Godot my baby brother. "You can explain it to her," he said, "we don't mind." Which I know he meant nicely and it was nice, he was very nice, but still, really, you don't mind my existing, that's big of you, really....ouch.
THE SOCIAL WORKER
We had to have a post placement visit there in the foster home. It was fine, but that was the point when we were informed that Kentucky ICPC was all run by one woman. One woman who was taking vacation between the 22nd and the 2nd. THe court hearing was for the 20th. "THere's a one percent chance it could happen on the 21st," she said. "But you should make plans for Christmas and new year's here." So we did. We also did our best to ensure that that one percent was at least doubled. But what could we do? YOu can't fight City Hall, as they say. We tried to put a good spin on it. After all, Christmas is not a big deal for us (see above re: religiosity). THe big deal was that we wanted to be in our home! with our food! and our cat!
THE LAZY BLOGGER
Here's where the lazy blogger takes a break.
Next: The Fosterening Continued; The Homecomening
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Part One: The Hospitalening
Not like I'm all organized and shit with the parts. I am going to forget all kinds of stuff here and do a bad job. but read on! some things might be funny!
November 29, 2006
We battled late takeoffs with short connections to arrive in Shelbyville, USA in the early afternoon. It was warm, not Novemberlike to me at all. We jumped in our rental car (smelled strongly of cigarettes) and drove to Babies R Dumb to buy a carseat (subsidized by Great-Grandma McLazy: "get the safest most expensive one"). Unable to decipher the instructions, we left it lying crazily in the backseat, hoping no one would notice and call CPS on us. No baby, no foul, right?
We checked into the motel and rang up Suzanne, the expectant mom we'd met three weeks before. We got a disconnect message. Which, of course, made us plenty nervous. But we called the social worker and learned that she was doing well and would check into the hospital at 5 AM the next day. We were to accompany her and DON'T BE LATE. A sleepless night.
November 30, 2006
The nauseating hour of 4:30 AM arrived and we walked the three blocks to the hospital, where we found an unstaffed registration desk and no Suzanne. We wandered the halls of the place for a while until we found her waiting by the desk, wondering where the hell the registration clerk was at this hour. A call to the ER (always staffed) and someone appeared to check her in for her surgery. We walked up to the L&D unit and were shown to the waiting room, which smelled strongly of pee.
You imagine yourself in this situation and tell me if you could sit still. I could not. We passed out truffles to the nurses, hoping to bribe them into treating us well, which turned out to be unneccessary since they were all just about the nicest people on earth.
Eventually I went to the bathroom. Which also smelt of pee. When I returned, Octuplet Dazzle told me to run and get my bracelet, because the baby was born.
While I stood swooning, they strapped my bracelet on my wrist and tried to explain to me that the baby was having trouble breathing, or, as the nurse put it, "being a pain in the butt." We followed his bassinet down the hall to the intermediate nursery...not the NICU but one step down from that. "Wait about 30 minutes," they said at the door, which then was shut and locked. We couldn't even see inside, but we stood outside shaking as we called my mother. "How big? How long? what time?" We knew nothing.
Hours later, we were finally admitted to the intermediate nursery. Nurse Dire Predictions talked about holes in the heart, apnea, oxygen at 70%, blah blah blah. Where was the doctor? Not there*.
The baby, who we barely dared to call our own Godot, had IV with antibiotics, oxygen cannula, and a feeding tube. Later we would learn that most of this was excess treatment by a kind of old fashioned hospital. But at the time...poor baby. They let us hold him if we wore gowns and gloves.
We spent the rest of the day by his bedside and with Suzanne, who was in some pain besides being ravenous and not allowed to eat yet.
*Small world tidbit: the doctor was at a conference with my grandfather, in DC, at that very moment.
December 1, 2006
In and out of the Intermediate Nursery all day (you have to wash your hands for three whole minutes every time) and out just to get food for us and for Suzanne. We watched TV and she talked about her family and music and other regular things.
They let us hold him without gowns.
In the evening we went out to find a computer to upload the first pictures. While we were at Kinko's, the social worker called us to tell us to "let Suzanne get some rest". I was terrified that we had somehow overstayed our welcome in her room and had bothered her. Five minutes later she called us asking us to please come back and bring a fish sandwich. So I guess we weren't that bad.
December 2, 2006
This would normally have been the day that Godot got out of the hospital. But they still weren't discussing discharge. We booked another night at the motel. We met Richard, Godot's father, who came to stay the night with Suzanne. He was kind of quiet but sat and watched TV with us and did a crossword puzzle and had some chicken wings.
Suzanne was discharged around noon. She came to say goodbye to us as we sat by Godot's bed. I cried a tiny bit.
I started to get a rash from the hospital soap and the three minute scrubs.
December 3, 2006
They took Godot off the oxygen. We really thought he would be able to go home, but the nurses wouldn't talk about discharge yet. With Suzanne gone, we spent most of the day with Godot, and out doing errands. We bought food to cook in the motel.
I made ramen in the motel room coffee pot.
December 4, 2006
More of same. Baby OK. Us tired and afraid to leave the hospital even for a little while. Every errand seemed to take ninety minutes, we got so lost in the city and couldn't find parking. We were tired and cried. I cried to my mom. I cried in the motel. I cried in the car.
December 5, 2006
Today they said that he would not go home until friday. When I reported this to my mother, she was furious and called my grandfather to tattle. (A little boasting, a little background: my grandfather is a neonatalogist and a big shot one too. He was running a conference in DC that week) My grandfather demanded the name of the doctor, who we still hadn't seen (he was at the conference).
The baby was eating regular style now instead of the feeding tube.
We moved to a cheaper hotel.
December 6, 2006
We finally met the doctor. I name-dropped and he promised to call my grandfather. The baby was off oxygen, eating well, and healthy. He agreed that we could leave the next day.
Driving away that night I cried, because even though the nurses were nice and kind and very good, I knew that they didn't have time to hold him every time he cried. And we weren't there.
December 7, 2006
We got up early and went to the hospital. We waited until noon, feeding, changing, and bothering the baby. Taking endless pictures. Finally the social worker arrived to take custody of the baby and drive him to the foster home--we were to follow in our own car. We were not allowed to drive the baby anywhere.
One more heel stick, one more test, one more lost paperwork and we were good to go.
Next: part 2: The Fosterening
November 29, 2006
We battled late takeoffs with short connections to arrive in Shelbyville, USA in the early afternoon. It was warm, not Novemberlike to me at all. We jumped in our rental car (smelled strongly of cigarettes) and drove to Babies R Dumb to buy a carseat (subsidized by Great-Grandma McLazy: "get the safest most expensive one"). Unable to decipher the instructions, we left it lying crazily in the backseat, hoping no one would notice and call CPS on us. No baby, no foul, right?
We checked into the motel and rang up Suzanne, the expectant mom we'd met three weeks before. We got a disconnect message. Which, of course, made us plenty nervous. But we called the social worker and learned that she was doing well and would check into the hospital at 5 AM the next day. We were to accompany her and DON'T BE LATE. A sleepless night.
November 30, 2006
The nauseating hour of 4:30 AM arrived and we walked the three blocks to the hospital, where we found an unstaffed registration desk and no Suzanne. We wandered the halls of the place for a while until we found her waiting by the desk, wondering where the hell the registration clerk was at this hour. A call to the ER (always staffed) and someone appeared to check her in for her surgery. We walked up to the L&D unit and were shown to the waiting room, which smelled strongly of pee.
You imagine yourself in this situation and tell me if you could sit still. I could not. We passed out truffles to the nurses, hoping to bribe them into treating us well, which turned out to be unneccessary since they were all just about the nicest people on earth.
Eventually I went to the bathroom. Which also smelt of pee. When I returned, Octuplet Dazzle told me to run and get my bracelet, because the baby was born.
While I stood swooning, they strapped my bracelet on my wrist and tried to explain to me that the baby was having trouble breathing, or, as the nurse put it, "being a pain in the butt." We followed his bassinet down the hall to the intermediate nursery...not the NICU but one step down from that. "Wait about 30 minutes," they said at the door, which then was shut and locked. We couldn't even see inside, but we stood outside shaking as we called my mother. "How big? How long? what time?" We knew nothing.
Hours later, we were finally admitted to the intermediate nursery. Nurse Dire Predictions talked about holes in the heart, apnea, oxygen at 70%, blah blah blah. Where was the doctor? Not there*.
The baby, who we barely dared to call our own Godot, had IV with antibiotics, oxygen cannula, and a feeding tube. Later we would learn that most of this was excess treatment by a kind of old fashioned hospital. But at the time...poor baby. They let us hold him if we wore gowns and gloves.
We spent the rest of the day by his bedside and with Suzanne, who was in some pain besides being ravenous and not allowed to eat yet.
*Small world tidbit: the doctor was at a conference with my grandfather, in DC, at that very moment.
December 1, 2006
In and out of the Intermediate Nursery all day (you have to wash your hands for three whole minutes every time) and out just to get food for us and for Suzanne. We watched TV and she talked about her family and music and other regular things.
They let us hold him without gowns.
In the evening we went out to find a computer to upload the first pictures. While we were at Kinko's, the social worker called us to tell us to "let Suzanne get some rest". I was terrified that we had somehow overstayed our welcome in her room and had bothered her. Five minutes later she called us asking us to please come back and bring a fish sandwich. So I guess we weren't that bad.
December 2, 2006
This would normally have been the day that Godot got out of the hospital. But they still weren't discussing discharge. We booked another night at the motel. We met Richard, Godot's father, who came to stay the night with Suzanne. He was kind of quiet but sat and watched TV with us and did a crossword puzzle and had some chicken wings.
Suzanne was discharged around noon. She came to say goodbye to us as we sat by Godot's bed. I cried a tiny bit.
I started to get a rash from the hospital soap and the three minute scrubs.
December 3, 2006
They took Godot off the oxygen. We really thought he would be able to go home, but the nurses wouldn't talk about discharge yet. With Suzanne gone, we spent most of the day with Godot, and out doing errands. We bought food to cook in the motel.
I made ramen in the motel room coffee pot.
December 4, 2006
More of same. Baby OK. Us tired and afraid to leave the hospital even for a little while. Every errand seemed to take ninety minutes, we got so lost in the city and couldn't find parking. We were tired and cried. I cried to my mom. I cried in the motel. I cried in the car.
December 5, 2006
Today they said that he would not go home until friday. When I reported this to my mother, she was furious and called my grandfather to tattle. (A little boasting, a little background: my grandfather is a neonatalogist and a big shot one too. He was running a conference in DC that week) My grandfather demanded the name of the doctor, who we still hadn't seen (he was at the conference).
The baby was eating regular style now instead of the feeding tube.
We moved to a cheaper hotel.
December 6, 2006
We finally met the doctor. I name-dropped and he promised to call my grandfather. The baby was off oxygen, eating well, and healthy. He agreed that we could leave the next day.
Driving away that night I cried, because even though the nurses were nice and kind and very good, I knew that they didn't have time to hold him every time he cried. And we weren't there.
December 7, 2006
We got up early and went to the hospital. We waited until noon, feeding, changing, and bothering the baby. Taking endless pictures. Finally the social worker arrived to take custody of the baby and drive him to the foster home--we were to follow in our own car. We were not allowed to drive the baby anywhere.
One more heel stick, one more test, one more lost paperwork and we were good to go.
Next: part 2: The Fosterening
Guy walks into a bar
I don't know how to start my story here, folks. The middle's muddled, but the ending ends with Me, Octuplet Dazzle, and Godot in our VERY OWN HOME.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
trapped in the south
very little internet these days, folks. sorry. We are trapped in a maze of bureaucratic requirements and untimely vacations of ICPC workers. Possibly we could escape on the 21st but if not...we're here until 2007.
The sad part is that we will have to leave the baby here in the foster home and go to a hotel for the holiday...because, you know, these people have lives and family of their own (WHAT NERVE!).
Trying not to think about that and cry.
Baby doing very, very well. Small and cute. Nothing we brought fits him. Eat and grow fat, baby!
The sad part is that we will have to leave the baby here in the foster home and go to a hotel for the holiday...because, you know, these people have lives and family of their own (WHAT NERVE!).
Trying not to think about that and cry.
Baby doing very, very well. Small and cute. Nothing we brought fits him. Eat and grow fat, baby!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
Clementine starts us off strong with two doozies
If it was a baffling comments contest, I might stand a chance
my own entry
This weekend my mother in law said
"Why don't you get a white one? It'll fit in better."
Please keep in mind this is not a white woman speaking, nor is anyone but me in the family white. If she is all about fitting in, you'd think she'd tell us to get an "Indian one". But the logic of Mother in Law is not to be understood by mere mortals.
PS she followed up with "I can't be excited about it, because it's not your own." Which was at least predictable.
"Why don't you get a white one? It'll fit in better."
Please keep in mind this is not a white woman speaking, nor is anyone but me in the family white. If she is all about fitting in, you'd think she'd tell us to get an "Indian one". But the logic of Mother in Law is not to be understood by mere mortals.
PS she followed up with "I can't be excited about it, because it's not your own." Which was at least predictable.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
The contest: whose relatives said the most retarded/hilarious thing about adoption
The rules: it doesn't have to be a mother in law but any kind of relative.
The prize: candy! candy! candy! I made candy. If you are diabetic or whatever we'll think of something else.
The entrants: more than just me, I hope. Just send a link to the blog post where you describe the hilarity and then I'll have a vote. The winner gets the prize and The Satisfaction Of Winning. Everyone else gets to feel better about their own Mothers in Law or other insane relatives.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
waiting for the locksmith or someone like him
Just in time for thanksgiving, some fucking asshole attempted to burgle our building. The front door lock is all fucked up now. I am waiting for the locksmith instead of driving to syracuse. yay! I think it will probably cost one million dollars to fix. Plus, the cat sitter has the old key. *&%^$^$&%*^%@!#$%
I believe I will go eat a cupcake.
I believe I will go eat a cupcake.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Guest Post by Octuplet Dazzle
Dazzle’s Candy Review
A little bit about me:
I have to admit that have been a bit influenced by Steve Almond’s Candyfreak. Upon reading this book I have been a bit obsessed with candy of the south, west, and Midwest. My obsession was renewed upon tasting an “Idaho Spud” which my mother-in-law obtained at some number cruncher’s conference in Las Vegas. Recently I went a bit nuts and bought all these old time candy from an online candy store with the idea of using them as stocking stuffers. I also did the same with my obsession with LUSH body products, but that is for another guest entry. Upon receiving my box o 35 candy bars, I have tasted several. Here we go:
SPACE FOOD STICKS – for nostalgic purposes only
I have dreamed of tasting Space Food Sticks after listen to my sister go on and on about eating them in Australia and loving them and never ever seeing them again. They come in a blue wrapper and are actually called “The Original Out of This World SPACE FOOD STICKS Delicious protein power snack. 10 Space Stick Bites in Every Pack”. The second I saw “protein power snack” I immediately worried. All this time I had envisioned sticks looking like elongated tootsie rolls, so was puzzled on seeing a package in the shape of a starburst bar. Upon opening the white wax paper packed piece you notice a rectangular brown chew with a fake chocolate scent. With your first bite, you notice the if-chalk-were-soft texture, with eventual consumption you realize you are eating the first Power Bar. Yick. Don’t try it folks.
CupoGold – giant mallomar
My sister also got me into Whipped Cream Pumpkins made by Chocolate House. They have a thin chocolate shell and a delightful melty marshmallow cream center. After tasting those I have bought every other seasonal Chocolate House product and was disappointed to not find them at my local DollarTree as I have in years past. To compensate – I buy every new-to-me item with a chocolate coating and a marshmallow like center. CupoGold satisfies. Its claim to fame is almonds and coconut in the very satisfying thickish chocolate shell. Nothing blow-your-mind here, but satisfying for those who enjoy the occasional mallomar.
Coconut Long Boys
These come in two inch long tootsie roll like wrappers with a red and yellow logo. Aside from feeling like your eating something from seventy five years ago, these were okay. I am not a big fan of the coconut, but these are good for those desiring a little zazz with their tough-to-chew caramel.
Cherry Ball
I’m not sure what these are actually called. They are spheres with a stripe of red, green, blue and yellow on a white candy like a beachball. The cherry is not satisfying like the cherry of a Jolly Rancher. It is Candy Cane Cherry, or Christmas Ribbon Cherry, and only meant to be eaten by Grandmas.
Peanut Thing in an translucent orange wrapper
This was a candy in the shape of a peanut. I was skeptical. The packaging caused me to expect teeth breaking brittle with rancid peanut paste on the inside. This was actually an unexpected delightful item. Forerunner of the butterfinger with out the chocolate. A satifying ratio of peanut flavored shell to tasty peanut butter innards.
A little bit about me:
I have to admit that have been a bit influenced by Steve Almond’s Candyfreak. Upon reading this book I have been a bit obsessed with candy of the south, west, and Midwest. My obsession was renewed upon tasting an “Idaho Spud” which my mother-in-law obtained at some number cruncher’s conference in Las Vegas. Recently I went a bit nuts and bought all these old time candy from an online candy store with the idea of using them as stocking stuffers. I also did the same with my obsession with LUSH body products, but that is for another guest entry. Upon receiving my box o 35 candy bars, I have tasted several. Here we go:
SPACE FOOD STICKS – for nostalgic purposes only
I have dreamed of tasting Space Food Sticks after listen to my sister go on and on about eating them in Australia and loving them and never ever seeing them again. They come in a blue wrapper and are actually called “The Original Out of This World SPACE FOOD STICKS Delicious protein power snack. 10 Space Stick Bites in Every Pack”. The second I saw “protein power snack” I immediately worried. All this time I had envisioned sticks looking like elongated tootsie rolls, so was puzzled on seeing a package in the shape of a starburst bar. Upon opening the white wax paper packed piece you notice a rectangular brown chew with a fake chocolate scent. With your first bite, you notice the if-chalk-were-soft texture, with eventual consumption you realize you are eating the first Power Bar. Yick. Don’t try it folks.
CupoGold – giant mallomar
My sister also got me into Whipped Cream Pumpkins made by Chocolate House. They have a thin chocolate shell and a delightful melty marshmallow cream center. After tasting those I have bought every other seasonal Chocolate House product and was disappointed to not find them at my local DollarTree as I have in years past. To compensate – I buy every new-to-me item with a chocolate coating and a marshmallow like center. CupoGold satisfies. Its claim to fame is almonds and coconut in the very satisfying thickish chocolate shell. Nothing blow-your-mind here, but satisfying for those who enjoy the occasional mallomar.
Coconut Long Boys
These come in two inch long tootsie roll like wrappers with a red and yellow logo. Aside from feeling like your eating something from seventy five years ago, these were okay. I am not a big fan of the coconut, but these are good for those desiring a little zazz with their tough-to-chew caramel.
Cherry Ball
I’m not sure what these are actually called. They are spheres with a stripe of red, green, blue and yellow on a white candy like a beachball. The cherry is not satisfying like the cherry of a Jolly Rancher. It is Candy Cane Cherry, or Christmas Ribbon Cherry, and only meant to be eaten by Grandmas.
Peanut Thing in an translucent orange wrapper
This was a candy in the shape of a peanut. I was skeptical. The packaging caused me to expect teeth breaking brittle with rancid peanut paste on the inside. This was actually an unexpected delightful item. Forerunner of the butterfinger with out the chocolate. A satifying ratio of peanut flavored shell to tasty peanut butter innards.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
for the time capsule
Things I Say I Won't Do as a parent, but probably will not be able to stop the train of destiny:
let the kid watch TV
teach kid to roll eyes
swear in front of kid
give kid candy
dress child in stupid cartoon character clothing
permit toys of an irritating and noisy nature in my home
call my mother in the middle of the night
dismiss mother's advice with scornful tone and feel bad about it later
let the kid watch TV
teach kid to roll eyes
swear in front of kid
give kid candy
dress child in stupid cartoon character clothing
permit toys of an irritating and noisy nature in my home
call my mother in the middle of the night
dismiss mother's advice with scornful tone and feel bad about it later
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
ONE
Is the loneliest number. Of trickortreaters. THat's how many we got. Whaaat? are we ugly? not ugly enough? Could hear them up and down the street all night but they did not ring our bell. We even had a jack o lantern. Maybe they heard we had bad candy or something. Which is untrue. We don't even have candy. we have superballs. Currently like 143 of them, and what the hell are we going to do with them?
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