Damn this living in a developing nation. I have to walk around all day long smelling like cocoa butter and juicy mangoes. It's the worst.
Happy New Year, everybody. May 2010 bring you joy and prosperity, and may your only suffering be due to my kind of problems.
One more thing. I thought two girlfriends of mine would be interested in the following exchange, which occurred at one of my recent fantastic gatherings:
Frank: I want to go see Avatar in 3-D.
Karen: Huh?
Javier (Frank's cousin): There's no way Karen will go to that. She's too cool to wear the glasses.
Frank and Javier laugh. Heartily. The mandatory two-second translation grace period everyone gives me elapses, and I grin and bat my eyelashes in mock amusement. Sooo damn funny.
Thursday, December 31
Wednesday, December 30
No, no, no. Yes! No! Okay. Yes!
Yesterday:
1. Frank and I decide to check out the beauty salon down the street that supposedly offers 20-minute chair massage for seven dollars. We enter what, here, is called a salon. Frank asks about the massages, then we sit and wait. Ten minutes. I glance repeatedly at the a row of stylists working on haircuts. I examine the hostess, because you can tell everything you need to know about your salon (or potential salon) by checking out the person working the front. I then create a mini montage of blissful moments with Heather, my stylist back home at Salon Rouge. I miss her. I see her brushing my hair as we sit together in a breezy meadow. I see her running her comb and flat iron through my untamed locks. She leans down and smiles at me, and gives my bangs a light-as-air spritzing of $30 hairspray.
Snap back to reality. A girl in platform espadrilles asks us to follow her down the block to the salon's other location where, supposedly, massage grows on trees. I give Frank a skeptical look, and we follow.
2. Location #2. Walls are hospital green. Manicure girl is a teenager. White eyelet pillow covers in the waiting area. No chance anyone here will be touching my glorious bod. I give Frank the NO look right away, but he wants to see more.
We wait another five minutes, and the hostess (or perhaps grosstess is a more appropriate title) walks over and asks me and Frank who wants to go first. Frank looks at me, and I tell the girl we want to go together. We've been telling them all along that we just want a dual massage. Two clients, two employees, two chairs, one room. Or two rooms, even. We want to be efficient. Back rubs, then home for cocktails. It's vacation week. The grosstess says there is only one person available. I tell Frank it's time to go.
3. We leave location #2 and walk homeward. One of us suggests grabbing a cold beer, so we do an about-face and head for the bridge and ravine, and the highest up of all the restaurant balconies on the side of the cliff. We wait 20 minutes for our bumbling waiter to bring two warm bottles of Cuzqueña. He asks if they're cold enough. Um, no, stupid. We decide this is the third strike on our quest for afternoon fun, and head back home.
4. On the walk, Frank suggests we give fun another go. He mentions that he and his cousins recently had a really nice lunch at Javier, which has a few nice seating decks and yummy food. We walk back down the ravine, then up three flights of marble stairs to the restaurant. Deck seating is spectacular. Overlooking the ocean, warm sun, fresh breeze, huge yellow canvas umbrellas, cold beer, tasty chicha and cancha, and fabulous ceviche. We discuss at great length the more comical points of the day's misfortunes. And then the unthinkable. Frank spots a black cat sunning itself across the deck. I offer to chase it away, but he declines. The cat inches closer, and Frank starts throwing cancha at it. The cat lies down, and at that very instant I turn Frank's attention to a cluster of shamrocks growing in a nearby flower pot. The cat takes this as its cue to vamoose, and Frank accepts the shamrocks as enough good to combat the evils of black cat witchcraft.
5. Back at home, Frank and I continue discussing the day. One of the kids is carrying around a book. I walk out of the room, and as I re-enter, I see a pressed four leaf clover on the floor. I'm baffled. Where did this come from? All I could think of was Mom. I look at the book, now lying on the coffee table. It's Thoreau's Walden. Mom sent me her copy in a care package. The pieces come together. Mom can find a four leaf clover in a cement parking lot in the dead of winter. It's one of her cosmic gifts. Where does she store her lucky finds? In between the pages of the books on her shelves. I pick up the clover and show it to Frank, and he goes wild. The day is saved. Now the crummy parts are just a funny joke shared between husband and wife, and the amazing meal is a true highlight of our time here.
Isn't it funny... sometimes you have no idea what kind of impact you're having in someone's life at any given moment. Pay attention to what you are doing. At your job, with your family, when you're alone, with friends, or in the company of strangers with whom you assume you have nothing in common. It's all connected. But you know this.
1. Frank and I decide to check out the beauty salon down the street that supposedly offers 20-minute chair massage for seven dollars. We enter what, here, is called a salon. Frank asks about the massages, then we sit and wait. Ten minutes. I glance repeatedly at the a row of stylists working on haircuts. I examine the hostess, because you can tell everything you need to know about your salon (or potential salon) by checking out the person working the front. I then create a mini montage of blissful moments with Heather, my stylist back home at Salon Rouge. I miss her. I see her brushing my hair as we sit together in a breezy meadow. I see her running her comb and flat iron through my untamed locks. She leans down and smiles at me, and gives my bangs a light-as-air spritzing of $30 hairspray.
Snap back to reality. A girl in platform espadrilles asks us to follow her down the block to the salon's other location where, supposedly, massage grows on trees. I give Frank a skeptical look, and we follow.
2. Location #2. Walls are hospital green. Manicure girl is a teenager. White eyelet pillow covers in the waiting area. No chance anyone here will be touching my glorious bod. I give Frank the NO look right away, but he wants to see more.
We wait another five minutes, and the hostess (or perhaps grosstess is a more appropriate title) walks over and asks me and Frank who wants to go first. Frank looks at me, and I tell the girl we want to go together. We've been telling them all along that we just want a dual massage. Two clients, two employees, two chairs, one room. Or two rooms, even. We want to be efficient. Back rubs, then home for cocktails. It's vacation week. The grosstess says there is only one person available. I tell Frank it's time to go.
3. We leave location #2 and walk homeward. One of us suggests grabbing a cold beer, so we do an about-face and head for the bridge and ravine, and the highest up of all the restaurant balconies on the side of the cliff. We wait 20 minutes for our bumbling waiter to bring two warm bottles of Cuzqueña. He asks if they're cold enough. Um, no, stupid. We decide this is the third strike on our quest for afternoon fun, and head back home.
4. On the walk, Frank suggests we give fun another go. He mentions that he and his cousins recently had a really nice lunch at Javier, which has a few nice seating decks and yummy food. We walk back down the ravine, then up three flights of marble stairs to the restaurant. Deck seating is spectacular. Overlooking the ocean, warm sun, fresh breeze, huge yellow canvas umbrellas, cold beer, tasty chicha and cancha, and fabulous ceviche. We discuss at great length the more comical points of the day's misfortunes. And then the unthinkable. Frank spots a black cat sunning itself across the deck. I offer to chase it away, but he declines. The cat inches closer, and Frank starts throwing cancha at it. The cat lies down, and at that very instant I turn Frank's attention to a cluster of shamrocks growing in a nearby flower pot. The cat takes this as its cue to vamoose, and Frank accepts the shamrocks as enough good to combat the evils of black cat witchcraft.
5. Back at home, Frank and I continue discussing the day. One of the kids is carrying around a book. I walk out of the room, and as I re-enter, I see a pressed four leaf clover on the floor. I'm baffled. Where did this come from? All I could think of was Mom. I look at the book, now lying on the coffee table. It's Thoreau's Walden. Mom sent me her copy in a care package. The pieces come together. Mom can find a four leaf clover in a cement parking lot in the dead of winter. It's one of her cosmic gifts. Where does she store her lucky finds? In between the pages of the books on her shelves. I pick up the clover and show it to Frank, and he goes wild. The day is saved. Now the crummy parts are just a funny joke shared between husband and wife, and the amazing meal is a true highlight of our time here.
Isn't it funny... sometimes you have no idea what kind of impact you're having in someone's life at any given moment. Pay attention to what you are doing. At your job, with your family, when you're alone, with friends, or in the company of strangers with whom you assume you have nothing in common. It's all connected. But you know this.
Partial post
This is something I started writing a few days ago. We're having a vacation week here, and thus my mind is on vaca as well. There were a few thoughts set to follow what's below, but *poof* -- gone.
As you all know, this is my first holiday season away from home. Away from my family and friends, and my sister's Christmas cookies. If nothing else, this whole experience has shown me how much I love the people in my life. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, I think it's safe to say I've hit maximum fonditude. The feeling is spilling over into my daily life down here. I like that people come to our house to hang out, and that they call from down the block to say they're in the neighborhood so they're stopping by. We get calls at 10pm; some friend or relative, who undoubtedly knows that our non-cordless telephone is right outside the room where the kids are sleeping, wants to make sure we're home because he or she will be here in five minutes. And they're bringing food or beer. I love the southern hemisphere hospitality.
Also, prepare yourselves. When I come back, I'm inviting myself over any time I feel like it.
As you all know, this is my first holiday season away from home. Away from my family and friends, and my sister's Christmas cookies. If nothing else, this whole experience has shown me how much I love the people in my life. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, I think it's safe to say I've hit maximum fonditude. The feeling is spilling over into my daily life down here. I like that people come to our house to hang out, and that they call from down the block to say they're in the neighborhood so they're stopping by. We get calls at 10pm; some friend or relative, who undoubtedly knows that our non-cordless telephone is right outside the room where the kids are sleeping, wants to make sure we're home because he or she will be here in five minutes. And they're bringing food or beer. I love the southern hemisphere hospitality.
Also, prepare yourselves. When I come back, I'm inviting myself over any time I feel like it.
Thursday, December 17
My new porn -- er, um, entertainment
Frank and I are hanging out in the living room. A little while ago he whispered, "Hey, I have a surprise for you." He went to press the button on the remote, and 99.9% of me was betting on porn. But no. It was Star Trek.
Hotness.
Hotness.
Tuesday, December 8
Hey. Hi.
So I'm thinking about getting a little tree up, now that we have made some exciting handmade decorations with which to surround such a thing. For lack of desire to buy a whole whirl of decorations I'm not that crazy about, I opted to put the kids to work and get crafty. Watercolors, construction paper, etc. Our super duper paper chains (my favorite) will do double duty as birthday party decorations for Nico's THIRD on the 20th.
Wow. Nico is going to turn three years old. I just can't believe it. My little boy. Three just seems so much older than two. I remember bringing him home from the hospital when he was a newborn. I couldn't imagine him any bigger or older than he was then. And now here he is, making conversation with his little sister, asking her a whole string of yes-or-no questions at the dinner table.
There's not much else to say tonight, except that I miss home a lot. I miss my family, and I miss my friends. I miss my house. I miss New Jersey. Whatever you can think of about home, rest assured I miss it.
Wow. Nico is going to turn three years old. I just can't believe it. My little boy. Three just seems so much older than two. I remember bringing him home from the hospital when he was a newborn. I couldn't imagine him any bigger or older than he was then. And now here he is, making conversation with his little sister, asking her a whole string of yes-or-no questions at the dinner table.
There's not much else to say tonight, except that I miss home a lot. I miss my family, and I miss my friends. I miss my house. I miss New Jersey. Whatever you can think of about home, rest assured I miss it.
Sunday, November 22
Only in Barranco
So, my friends, a little bit of info on my neighborhood. You know we live in Lima, and Lima is broken up into districts, or municipalities, or what have you. There's Miraflores, San Isidro, Surco, and Lima proper, just to name a few. And then there's my district, Barranco, which is known as the bohemian/artistic center of the city. It was founded in 1874 as a hoity-toity beach resort, and aside from having lots of fancy old houses and tourists and street dogs, it's as noisy as all get out.
Case in point: it's twenty minutes past ten on a Sunday night, and there is a concert out front. Well, technically, it's half way down the block across from the town square. And I'm not talking about some drunkard with a guitar crooning for a buck. There's a full-blown event happening. And it just started. At twenty past ten on a Sunday night. Not surprisingly, I also hear a marching band somewhere in the mix.
Okay, so we just looked out the doors and here's what's happening on this typical Sunday night in Barranco. The Procession of the Lord of Miracles. Holy smokes.
Case in point: it's twenty minutes past ten on a Sunday night, and there is a concert out front. Well, technically, it's half way down the block across from the town square. And I'm not talking about some drunkard with a guitar crooning for a buck. There's a full-blown event happening. And it just started. At twenty past ten on a Sunday night. Not surprisingly, I also hear a marching band somewhere in the mix.
Okay, so we just looked out the doors and here's what's happening on this typical Sunday night in Barranco. The Procession of the Lord of Miracles. Holy smokes.
Thursday, November 12
Mother and child
Tonight I'm watching Snoopy, Come Home with Nico. He laughs out loud and jokes around with me during the funny parts, and I love that, so I'm letting him stay up past his bedtime. He and I had quite a day. I did a morning run, then took both kids to the park so they could burn off some energy. We did a walk with the stroller after that. Come nap time, Livi was out like a light but Nico wanted to go for another walk. We dropped off laundry, walked to the bridge and ran around, I drooled over some hand crafted bags at a street fair, and he almost fell asleep while I was giving him a piggy back ride. Once home, I realized I had nothing to cook for dinner. Livi sat home again with Daddy, and Nico and I went to Metro to get Inca chicken, fries, salad, and a few food basics. On the way home we stopped at Hong Fu for some white rice.
While we were out, Livi had filled up on peaches, which was fine in a way because Nico had filled up on a mini bag of Cheetos while he was sitting in the shopping cart. Who gave them to him? I cannot say. I'm not the kind of mom who would feed her kid Cheetos right before dinner just to make him happy. And because he was batting his eyes and nudging his shoulder in the Cheetos' direction. No sir. Not me.
Anyhoo, here we are, watching Charlie Brown, and I've just heard the most adorable thing from Nico. He thinks that Snoopy is a mommy, and Woodstock is her baby. When he told me, I sat there batting my eyes at him (trying not to start crying like a complete sap). I smiled, and he smiled back, and then he asked for a mango. Obviously it wasn't as much of a moment for him as it was for me, but I still loved it.
While we were out, Livi had filled up on peaches, which was fine in a way because Nico had filled up on a mini bag of Cheetos while he was sitting in the shopping cart. Who gave them to him? I cannot say. I'm not the kind of mom who would feed her kid Cheetos right before dinner just to make him happy. And because he was batting his eyes and nudging his shoulder in the Cheetos' direction. No sir. Not me.
Anyhoo, here we are, watching Charlie Brown, and I've just heard the most adorable thing from Nico. He thinks that Snoopy is a mommy, and Woodstock is her baby. When he told me, I sat there batting my eyes at him (trying not to start crying like a complete sap). I smiled, and he smiled back, and then he asked for a mango. Obviously it wasn't as much of a moment for him as it was for me, but I still loved it.
Wednesday, November 11
Fashion, clean and dirty
Tonight I flipped the channel and landed on Sex & the City: La Pelicula (the Movie). It's making me miss my gal pals. I always giggle a little when I think of which character I am, depending on which set of girlfriends I'm with. Either I'm Miranda, or Carrie, or Samantha. Never Charlotte, though, as far as I can tell.
Well, hot news, it looks like I'm getting a washer soon! I can't believe I just exclaimed that, but seriously, I'm jazzed about this. Hand washing all of your family's socks and undies is only charming the first few times, and paying for a laundry service to clean everything else is getting expensive.
Okay listen, Carrie just found Big's emails, so I gots ta go. Hugs, all. Mwah, mwah.
Oh, wait! Before I go, must tell you that Frank landed a job teaching animation at a local college. It's a part-time gig, which is perfect, and I just have to say that I'm really proud of him.
Well, hot news, it looks like I'm getting a washer soon! I can't believe I just exclaimed that, but seriously, I'm jazzed about this. Hand washing all of your family's socks and undies is only charming the first few times, and paying for a laundry service to clean everything else is getting expensive.
Okay listen, Carrie just found Big's emails, so I gots ta go. Hugs, all. Mwah, mwah.
Oh, wait! Before I go, must tell you that Frank landed a job teaching animation at a local college. It's a part-time gig, which is perfect, and I just have to say that I'm really proud of him.
Friday, November 6
I've also requested gummi bears.
Today at the market, I purposely bought the cookies that Frank and the kids do not like. Why? Because they are the cookies I like, and this is the only way I can eat cookies without someone stealing them out of my hand after I take one bite. Now that Olivia says "thanks" after she does it, it's kind of cute. But Nico actually said "yoink!" the other day, so it's cheese puffs for him until further notice.
We are anxiously awaiting a care package from my mom, which I'm told contains some of our favorite, badly-missed goodies which are unavailable down here -- Goldfish crackers, Cheerios, and decent quality yoga pants. Oh, and my favorite flip flops. And here's something. Okay, so we all know that Haribo makes the best gummy bears, right? Right. So even though there's a whole display o' Haribo gummies at the Metro, my beloved bears are conspicuously absent. Also, no cola bottles. I know, right? Now I'm not saying there are no gummy bears to be found at all, just no Haribos. They just taste the best.
And speaking of food(ish things), is it weird that I have a crush on the newer, friendlier Gordon Ramsay? Maybe I'm watching too much BBC. I really like it on F Word when they go to his house, and he's raising sheep or turkeys, and his wife's all mad that the kids are out there mingling with the barnyard animals, but not really mad, and then you learn something about humanity. If you think I'm joking, you're not watching.
Right, so... off to put away the groceries, clean up the floor full of toys, wash dishes, and make sure we all have clean outfits to wear tomorrow when we visit the Animation Mafia booth at the super duper comic/animation convention. And dinner. There should be dinner in there somewhere. Gordon? Please help.
We are anxiously awaiting a care package from my mom, which I'm told contains some of our favorite, badly-missed goodies which are unavailable down here -- Goldfish crackers, Cheerios, and decent quality yoga pants. Oh, and my favorite flip flops. And here's something. Okay, so we all know that Haribo makes the best gummy bears, right? Right. So even though there's a whole display o' Haribo gummies at the Metro, my beloved bears are conspicuously absent. Also, no cola bottles. I know, right? Now I'm not saying there are no gummy bears to be found at all, just no Haribos. They just taste the best.
And speaking of food(ish things), is it weird that I have a crush on the newer, friendlier Gordon Ramsay? Maybe I'm watching too much BBC. I really like it on F Word when they go to his house, and he's raising sheep or turkeys, and his wife's all mad that the kids are out there mingling with the barnyard animals, but not really mad, and then you learn something about humanity. If you think I'm joking, you're not watching.
Right, so... off to put away the groceries, clean up the floor full of toys, wash dishes, and make sure we all have clean outfits to wear tomorrow when we visit the Animation Mafia booth at the super duper comic/animation convention. And dinner. There should be dinner in there somewhere. Gordon? Please help.
Monday, November 2
Hi, Mom!
I'm not the least bit ashamed to tell you all that I miss my mom. Tonight I made her recipe for pasta sauce -- a huge pot of it, and added some ground beef -- and the kids, Frank, and our two late-working employees scarfed it down. (insert chomping, scarfing noise here) Nom, nom, nom. Nico talks about my mom at least once a day. Grandmom this, Grandmom that, and then Livi looks at him and says 'Mom-Mom' and Nico shouts 'Grandmom!' and they dissolve into a blur of flailing arms and fists, kicks and punches, still shrieking out their grandmother's name of choice.
In other news, I'm still waiting on that new charger port to arrive from the ever-glorious United States of America. (insert Jeopardy! tick-tock music here) But here's where I've been working until my computer is revived and I get myself a fancy little desk to put in the almost-empty room next door (a.k.a. my future office). One of the great things about this apartment is that there is almost too much space. Sure, there's almost no furniture, but if we went out and got some, we'd also have to go out and buy stuff to put inside of and upon it, so... waste of time and money, basically. This spot you see here is the living room, with a little balcony overlooking one of the busiest, loudest avenues in all of Lima. The colored lights are a dead giveaway that I've recently been watching Eyes Wide Shut, and they are available here mid-October due to a lack of interest in Halloween and Thanksgiving. It seems we're big on the Catholics and Incas, but not so much with the pagans and pilgrims. Pardon the dim lighting and collection of beer bottles on the table. We've just had visitors. Also, there's a photo of the kids enjoying the balcony. Livi is shrieking, and Nico is trying to bounce a pumpkin.
In other news, I'm still waiting on that new charger port to arrive from the ever-glorious United States of America. (insert Jeopardy! tick-tock music here) But here's where I've been working until my computer is revived and I get myself a fancy little desk to put in the almost-empty room next door (a.k.a. my future office). One of the great things about this apartment is that there is almost too much space. Sure, there's almost no furniture, but if we went out and got some, we'd also have to go out and buy stuff to put inside of and upon it, so... waste of time and money, basically. This spot you see here is the living room, with a little balcony overlooking one of the busiest, loudest avenues in all of Lima. The colored lights are a dead giveaway that I've recently been watching Eyes Wide Shut, and they are available here mid-October due to a lack of interest in Halloween and Thanksgiving. It seems we're big on the Catholics and Incas, but not so much with the pagans and pilgrims. Pardon the dim lighting and collection of beer bottles on the table. We've just had visitors. Also, there's a photo of the kids enjoying the balcony. Livi is shrieking, and Nico is trying to bounce a pumpkin.
Friday, October 30
Coming soon
I just noticed that it's been about three weeks since I've written any posts. And it's almost November. Not sure where all my time is going these days... we're not doing anything groundbreakingly different than we were back home, yet it's Friday when I think it's Wednesday and there are still plenty of things left undone when I go to sleep at night. Granted, I have been going to bed fairly early. Some nights I tuck myself in right after the kids fall asleep. I've also been putting a lot of effort into getting better at web design. It's so different from doing print layouts. I like it, though, and I'm figuring out the easiest and fastest ways to get things done. *fshew* Art sure is hard work.
We rearranged the rooms in the apartment and it's looking more like home. I'll be taking some pictures soon, and I promise to write you a real post to go along with said pictures. Oh! and one other thing, my computer's charger port is broken (again) and I'm in the middle of a two week wait for the part to arrive at the repair place. Sadly, there are no Apple Stores in Peru and everything for my five-year-old PowerBook has to be ordered from the US. The up side is that we accidentally found a really good Mac repair place in Miraflores, so that's something super right there. As I patiently await the new port's arrival, I'll be thinking of something dazzling to share with you when I do write that spiffy new post. Until then, hugs. Hugs!
We rearranged the rooms in the apartment and it's looking more like home. I'll be taking some pictures soon, and I promise to write you a real post to go along with said pictures. Oh! and one other thing, my computer's charger port is broken (again) and I'm in the middle of a two week wait for the part to arrive at the repair place. Sadly, there are no Apple Stores in Peru and everything for my five-year-old PowerBook has to be ordered from the US. The up side is that we accidentally found a really good Mac repair place in Miraflores, so that's something super right there. As I patiently await the new port's arrival, I'll be thinking of something dazzling to share with you when I do write that spiffy new post. Until then, hugs. Hugs!
Wednesday, October 7
All I really need to know about going to the doctor, I learned in Lima
Today I made the first "me" trip to see a doctor in Lima. About two weeks ago I landed a decent case of the flu and it never really seemed to disappear. A few days ago I noticed myself feeling progressively crummier, and this morning I knew it was time to bite the bullet and "head to hospital", as they say. And, boy, was it interesting. Frank's sister Carina had the day off from work and was kind enough to accompany me. She speaks a little bit of English, and is extremely well-versed in the art of making things happen. So. Off we went. First things first, when you're sick here, you go to the hospital. You might have your preferred medical professionals who might work at different hospitals, but the hospie is where you head.
After seeing a nurse for primary evaluation (after Carina took it upon herself to knock on the nurse's door without waiting in line - heck yeah), I registered, paid the equivalent of $8.66, and waited ten minutes to see the internist on duty. Much to my own delight, I was fairly competent in describing my cough, phlegm and its color, frequency of fever, and general malaise. The doctor, a very wise and learned man, proclaimed that I am ill with "broncitis muy fuerte". He prescribed a few meds. Pills for fever/aches, a botanically based liquid expectorant, and antibiotic shots. What, what? Yep. One shot immediately, and one a day for the next three days. After praising his intelligence and thanking him, we bid the good doctor farewell and headed to the pharmacy located in the hospital lobby. They filled the prescriptions and we headed back to the nurse, who kindly injected my left butt cheek with a three-vial antibiotic cocktail and sent us on our way. Wait, I forgot to tell you... the nurse told me I'd be getting the shot in my "nalga" and I looked at her and giggled. Partly because I knew it's the Spanish word for butt cheek, and partly because, well... who doesn't giggle at the thought of showing their nalga to a complete stranger?
So here I am, feeling much better already. And here is my medical goody bag which cost me $22.57. The first shot was included in that price. For the rest, I'll go to the corner pharmacy and pay about five bucks to have the tech there shoot me up. It'll be my daily thrill. You can see on the slip I am registered under one of my maiden names, since that's my family name and that's hows they works it down heres. Also, please note that the cough syrup has a handy dandy pour spout, the pills are cut freestlye with no labeled container, and I like honey in my chamomile tea.
All told, $31.23 for a doctor visit and medication at the hospital, and I don't even have insurance. Kind of takes the sting out of the ol' butt cheek shots, eh?
After seeing a nurse for primary evaluation (after Carina took it upon herself to knock on the nurse's door without waiting in line - heck yeah), I registered, paid the equivalent of $8.66, and waited ten minutes to see the internist on duty. Much to my own delight, I was fairly competent in describing my cough, phlegm and its color, frequency of fever, and general malaise. The doctor, a very wise and learned man, proclaimed that I am ill with "broncitis muy fuerte". He prescribed a few meds. Pills for fever/aches, a botanically based liquid expectorant, and antibiotic shots. What, what? Yep. One shot immediately, and one a day for the next three days. After praising his intelligence and thanking him, we bid the good doctor farewell and headed to the pharmacy located in the hospital lobby. They filled the prescriptions and we headed back to the nurse, who kindly injected my left butt cheek with a three-vial antibiotic cocktail and sent us on our way. Wait, I forgot to tell you... the nurse told me I'd be getting the shot in my "nalga" and I looked at her and giggled. Partly because I knew it's the Spanish word for butt cheek, and partly because, well... who doesn't giggle at the thought of showing their nalga to a complete stranger?
So here I am, feeling much better already. And here is my medical goody bag which cost me $22.57. The first shot was included in that price. For the rest, I'll go to the corner pharmacy and pay about five bucks to have the tech there shoot me up. It'll be my daily thrill. You can see on the slip I am registered under one of my maiden names, since that's my family name and that's hows they works it down heres. Also, please note that the cough syrup has a handy dandy pour spout, the pills are cut freestlye with no labeled container, and I like honey in my chamomile tea.
All told, $31.23 for a doctor visit and medication at the hospital, and I don't even have insurance. Kind of takes the sting out of the ol' butt cheek shots, eh?
Saturday, October 3
Curse alert, tellin' you how I really feel.
Upon unpacking my bag o' clean clothes this afternoon, I discovered my laundry service replaced my favorite white organic cotton long sleeve tee with a hideous ruffled white polyester blend turtleneck. Displeased, to say the least. I really need my own fucking washer and dryer down here. STAT.
Friday, October 2
Nico really likes trains
Nico: Mommy, can we watch Thomas?
Me: No, not right now, sweetie. We've watched enough Thomas today.
Nico: (brow furrowed) Mommy, I'm cross. Cinders and ashes!
Me: Exaaactly.
Me: No, not right now, sweetie. We've watched enough Thomas today.
Nico: (brow furrowed) Mommy, I'm cross. Cinders and ashes!
Me: Exaaactly.
Tuesday, September 29
Crotch chatch deleted?!
It seems I have accidentally deleted the post in which I described how I was visually assaulted by half the male population of Lima. I was on a cleaning spree in my post editing/deleting list when I got a little overzealous and didn't check to see I was removing the wrong thing. Bummer, because I actually went back and read that bit several times myself. Rest assured, those of you who did get to read it, that when I do rock the leggings, now I do so with something that covers at least 75% of the goods.
Saturday, September 26
Casa, part uno. Welcome to my roof!
My mom has a saying -- if you want to see me, come any time. If you want to see my house, make an appointment. Remembering these words of wisdom has really helped me keep things in perspective while I set up down here. I figured I can do a more detailed tour de casa if it's broken down into parts, so here's the first of several... the roof. Bear in mind that I haven't cleaned anything up here yet, but it has great potential and some lovely scenery.
Up we go...
So here's our rooftop. Let's see, what can I tell you... we are on the second floor of a two story building, directly above a café/sandwich shop. Photoshop yourself in some sweeping, chairs, potted plants, and maybe a table, and you can imagine what it'll look like once we clean it up a bit. That space in the roof down front is a cut out area that has windows for the room we're using as the studio. There's also a storage area. This whole space is just for us. We don't have to share it with anyone. It rocks.
It's overcast here most days. Not sure if that's because we live right near the ocean, or if it's because it's just barely spring and we're still shaking off the winter blahs. I've heard it does get sunny, so I'll update with something brighter later. In the distance you can see the coastal cliff, and in the right/center of the photo you may be able to see the ocean. Squint! Whatever you can see clearly is all that's there before you descend a couple hundred feet to the coastal highway, a slew of mini soccer fields, and an amazing line-up of Pacific surf beaches. The fields are always packed, and the other day I went for a run down to Agua Dulce and counted 70 surfers and 18 fishing boats in the water.
And here's my street, Ave. Grau. It's got enough hustle and bustle to keep the noise rocking through the night. My kids can now officially sleep through loud music, car alarms, taxis honking, people shouting, fire truck sirens... and so on and so forth.
Next up will be a tour of the kitchen. Woot!
Up we go...
So here's our rooftop. Let's see, what can I tell you... we are on the second floor of a two story building, directly above a café/sandwich shop. Photoshop yourself in some sweeping, chairs, potted plants, and maybe a table, and you can imagine what it'll look like once we clean it up a bit. That space in the roof down front is a cut out area that has windows for the room we're using as the studio. There's also a storage area. This whole space is just for us. We don't have to share it with anyone. It rocks.
It's overcast here most days. Not sure if that's because we live right near the ocean, or if it's because it's just barely spring and we're still shaking off the winter blahs. I've heard it does get sunny, so I'll update with something brighter later. In the distance you can see the coastal cliff, and in the right/center of the photo you may be able to see the ocean. Squint! Whatever you can see clearly is all that's there before you descend a couple hundred feet to the coastal highway, a slew of mini soccer fields, and an amazing line-up of Pacific surf beaches. The fields are always packed, and the other day I went for a run down to Agua Dulce and counted 70 surfers and 18 fishing boats in the water.
And here's my street, Ave. Grau. It's got enough hustle and bustle to keep the noise rocking through the night. My kids can now officially sleep through loud music, car alarms, taxis honking, people shouting, fire truck sirens... and so on and so forth.
Next up will be a tour of the kitchen. Woot!
Saturday, September 19
Pride in the home and pride in the dome
Number one.
I'm starting to really, really dig this apartment. I figure I had better get with it and get it gleaming and decorated so's I can show you guys some pictures. You know when you first move into a place and there's no furniture and nothing's quite decorated? Well... I moved into this home with three suitcases and three back packs, so I'm, like, way behind in the "having stuff" department.
Today I cleaned the bathroom. Keep in mind, I don't have My Trusty Bucket. Frank has made fun of me for years for toting my cleaning bucket around. It's filled with whatever sorts of natural home cleaning supplies I'm digging at the moment, and they make everything clean and shiny and smell yummy. But I didn't pack a bucket (obviously), and in Lima every cleaning supply is labeled something like "bleach" or "industrial" or "skin removal on the digits is imminent". Lima also has this desert quality about it, so you can sweep and dust but the dirt magically replaces itself in 3.5 minutes. In short, it's an uphill battle.
Number two.
I'm growing out my bangs. My sister-in-law is taking me out for a hair cut soon, and I'm going back to the long locks. It's about to be spring here, so by summer I should be into the long-ass bangs that I can bobby pin in whatever fashion suits my mood. The best way I can describe my feeling is that bangs are making me feel way too uptight lately, and for some reason I really need people to be able to see my forehead. In the same way some people think glasses make them look more intelligent, I feel like people here need to be able to see my forehead so I can project my thoughts outward more clearly. My Spanish is okay, but really I need all the help I can get. In short, read my thoughts, please.
I'm starting to really, really dig this apartment. I figure I had better get with it and get it gleaming and decorated so's I can show you guys some pictures. You know when you first move into a place and there's no furniture and nothing's quite decorated? Well... I moved into this home with three suitcases and three back packs, so I'm, like, way behind in the "having stuff" department.
Today I cleaned the bathroom. Keep in mind, I don't have My Trusty Bucket. Frank has made fun of me for years for toting my cleaning bucket around. It's filled with whatever sorts of natural home cleaning supplies I'm digging at the moment, and they make everything clean and shiny and smell yummy. But I didn't pack a bucket (obviously), and in Lima every cleaning supply is labeled something like "bleach" or "industrial" or "skin removal on the digits is imminent". Lima also has this desert quality about it, so you can sweep and dust but the dirt magically replaces itself in 3.5 minutes. In short, it's an uphill battle.
Number two.
I'm growing out my bangs. My sister-in-law is taking me out for a hair cut soon, and I'm going back to the long locks. It's about to be spring here, so by summer I should be into the long-ass bangs that I can bobby pin in whatever fashion suits my mood. The best way I can describe my feeling is that bangs are making me feel way too uptight lately, and for some reason I really need people to be able to see my forehead. In the same way some people think glasses make them look more intelligent, I feel like people here need to be able to see my forehead so I can project my thoughts outward more clearly. My Spanish is okay, but really I need all the help I can get. In short, read my thoughts, please.
Thursday, September 17
It's the little differences. I mean, they got the same shit over there that we got here, but it's just – it's just there it's a little different.
That's Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction, explaining Europe to Jules. Glass of beer at the movie theater in Paris. Mayonnaise on french fries in Holland, and the hash bars in Amsterdam. Yeah baby, you'd dig it the most. I think if Vincent ever visited Lima, he might have similar things to say. Aside from being one of the world's top producers of what I've heard is top notch cocaine, there are some interesting differences between Peru and the eastern coast of the United States. Regarding everyday living, and taking into account the fact that I don't do coke, this conversation will go a lot further if I begin with differences we can find at my local Metro supermarket.
1. No lemons. Seriously. My neighborhood Metro has three varieties of limes, one of which comes in what appears to be a seven-to-ten pound bag, but I would be hard pressed to find something that would work with iced tea.
2. The good dish detergent comes in solid/cake form. It's called Sapolio and you rub your wet scrubbie sponge around on it, then it foams up as you clean your dishes. Weird, but good.
3. The eggs come in 18-packs, unrefrigerated. The egg crate packages are bottom half only, but no worries -- the containers are shrink wrapped and each egg comes stamped with its very own expiration date.
4. No American cheese. Try explaining that one to your two-year-old when he asks why his beloved grilled cheese is yucky.
5. Avocados are amazing. Huge and creamy, and cost about eighty cents.
6. Much like European movie theaters, the Metro is equipped with its own liquor store, complete with tuxedoed attendants. Also, if you need to find anything in the regular part of the market, all you have to do is point to a store employee, shout "Amigo/a!" to get his or her attention, and they walk over to help you find your mystery item.
7. Sugar abounds in the cereal aisle. No lie, Corn Flakes are the only thing with less than 14 grams of sugar per serving. So guess what the kids eat now instead of Cheerios (since there are no Cheerios here).
8. The salt is sold in plastic bags, and looks like powder. I suppose this is due to the population's affinity for cocaine... and with that, it appears our discussion has come full circle. Oh, there's also the metric system, but that's a whole other post.
Tune in next time to find out how my Peruvian apartment is different from your house. Mi casa is a little different than tú casa. Adventure, I say. Adventure. Oh! and my sister-in-law brought over a pack of Babysec diapers for Livi, and they're far superior and less expensive than anything else I've tried. They're a total 90s throwback, emblazoned with junior Looney Tunes characters. Cringe, but oh well, 'cause I'm usin' 'em.
1. No lemons. Seriously. My neighborhood Metro has three varieties of limes, one of which comes in what appears to be a seven-to-ten pound bag, but I would be hard pressed to find something that would work with iced tea.
2. The good dish detergent comes in solid/cake form. It's called Sapolio and you rub your wet scrubbie sponge around on it, then it foams up as you clean your dishes. Weird, but good.
3. The eggs come in 18-packs, unrefrigerated. The egg crate packages are bottom half only, but no worries -- the containers are shrink wrapped and each egg comes stamped with its very own expiration date.
4. No American cheese. Try explaining that one to your two-year-old when he asks why his beloved grilled cheese is yucky.
5. Avocados are amazing. Huge and creamy, and cost about eighty cents.
6. Much like European movie theaters, the Metro is equipped with its own liquor store, complete with tuxedoed attendants. Also, if you need to find anything in the regular part of the market, all you have to do is point to a store employee, shout "Amigo/a!" to get his or her attention, and they walk over to help you find your mystery item.
7. Sugar abounds in the cereal aisle. No lie, Corn Flakes are the only thing with less than 14 grams of sugar per serving. So guess what the kids eat now instead of Cheerios (since there are no Cheerios here).
8. The salt is sold in plastic bags, and looks like powder. I suppose this is due to the population's affinity for cocaine... and with that, it appears our discussion has come full circle. Oh, there's also the metric system, but that's a whole other post.
Tune in next time to find out how my Peruvian apartment is different from your house. Mi casa is a little different than tú casa. Adventure, I say. Adventure. Oh! and my sister-in-law brought over a pack of Babysec diapers for Livi, and they're far superior and less expensive than anything else I've tried. They're a total 90s throwback, emblazoned with junior Looney Tunes characters. Cringe, but oh well, 'cause I'm usin' 'em.
Tuesday, September 15
It sucks to be famous.
Is it just me, or are all the famous people kicking the bucket lately? Today I was saddened to read that Patrick Swayze lost his battle with cancer. If you´re reading from the great big up above, Mr. Swayze, just know that I will always remember you as Bodhi in Point Break. Since the first time I saw that movie (1991?!), I think about Bodhi every time I´m stuck in traffic, and every time I see anyone skydiving.
I also have to add that living in another country sure does make me feel far away from everything. Duh, but it does. Even half of what´s on the BBC here is dubbed in Spanish. Luckily one of my faves, Top Gear, is still all English. Totally and completely English.
Not much happening. Adjusting and whatnot. Waiting for the warmer weather, wiping little butts, and trying out several varieties of diapers. Again, not the same, and with Livi´s constant pooing, I´m going out tomorrow to hit up the Pampers. The Huggies here just aren´t Huggie enough, an issue I certainly did not anticipate. I´ll keep you posted on all the excitement.
I also have to add that living in another country sure does make me feel far away from everything. Duh, but it does. Even half of what´s on the BBC here is dubbed in Spanish. Luckily one of my faves, Top Gear, is still all English. Totally and completely English.
Not much happening. Adjusting and whatnot. Waiting for the warmer weather, wiping little butts, and trying out several varieties of diapers. Again, not the same, and with Livi´s constant pooing, I´m going out tomorrow to hit up the Pampers. The Huggies here just aren´t Huggie enough, an issue I certainly did not anticipate. I´ll keep you posted on all the excitement.
Wednesday, September 9
If you need some Peruvian erotic statuettes, I'm your go-to gal.
I'm amused at how my kids really don't seem to notice we're now living on the other side of the planet. I guess by "the other side" I just mean the bottom half instead of the top half, but you know what I mean. They're still cranky when they should be cranky, hungry when they should be hungry, and running around whenever space permits. The absurd amount of street noise doesn't seem to bother them, so that's good. I think it gave me nightmares the first few days, though, and also contributed to a marked increase in jaw gnashing. Ow.
This afternoon Mom and I took the kids out to the Indian Market, which is a little outdoor space with different vendors who sell variations on the same basic set of items. It's a nice spot to get typical Peruvian goods and statues of Incas with extremely exaggerated-sized penises. It always makes me laugh to see such things, though, because it reminds me of The Birdcage. And I love that movie. Agador Spartacus.
So there are a couple of different things that happened today. One, which some of you may already know about, is that my mom got adventurous and went to the market (by herself!) to buy beer. And napkins, and hand soap. But the beer is what we really care about. I walked into the kitchen and found her happily hacking away at the thick shrink wrap around the 12-pack with our kitchen machete. I nearly passed out from excitement -- it was awesome! I think I said something like "Go Mom!" or "Hack it, woman!", and all I can remember is that she seemed extremely satisfied with herself and handled that knife pretty darn well. Maybe a little too well... or perhaps it's just that a good Irish woman never lets a little plastic barrier come between herself and her beer.
Also, tonight was a much needed bath night for the kids. Imagine my excitement here, where not only are we sans bathtub, but the kids simply cannot drink the water. So here's how we do for Livi... A little washy cloth wipedown standing next to the shower, then soap the hair and lean her backwards over the drain. Not too bad, she actually liked it and I think she even felt a little glamorous. So when it was Nico's turn, I somehow convinced him to let me give him a shower with the hose/spray nozzle. He was so proud of himself, and I have to say I was really proud of him. As a reward, I made him a big pot of popcorn, and he went to sleep as happy as a clean little clam.
Welp, I'm going to enjoy my own bowl of popcorn, a beer, a little stroll on the roof, and probably hit the hay before 11pm. My mom flies home tomorrow night. I'll obviously be the person to blame if she misses her flight, because I don't want her to leave. I've already been practicing some soft, subtle weeping on my husband's shoulder. *sigh*
This afternoon Mom and I took the kids out to the Indian Market, which is a little outdoor space with different vendors who sell variations on the same basic set of items. It's a nice spot to get typical Peruvian goods and statues of Incas with extremely exaggerated-sized penises. It always makes me laugh to see such things, though, because it reminds me of The Birdcage. And I love that movie. Agador Spartacus.
So there are a couple of different things that happened today. One, which some of you may already know about, is that my mom got adventurous and went to the market (by herself!) to buy beer. And napkins, and hand soap. But the beer is what we really care about. I walked into the kitchen and found her happily hacking away at the thick shrink wrap around the 12-pack with our kitchen machete. I nearly passed out from excitement -- it was awesome! I think I said something like "Go Mom!" or "Hack it, woman!", and all I can remember is that she seemed extremely satisfied with herself and handled that knife pretty darn well. Maybe a little too well... or perhaps it's just that a good Irish woman never lets a little plastic barrier come between herself and her beer.
Also, tonight was a much needed bath night for the kids. Imagine my excitement here, where not only are we sans bathtub, but the kids simply cannot drink the water. So here's how we do for Livi... A little washy cloth wipedown standing next to the shower, then soap the hair and lean her backwards over the drain. Not too bad, she actually liked it and I think she even felt a little glamorous. So when it was Nico's turn, I somehow convinced him to let me give him a shower with the hose/spray nozzle. He was so proud of himself, and I have to say I was really proud of him. As a reward, I made him a big pot of popcorn, and he went to sleep as happy as a clean little clam.
Welp, I'm going to enjoy my own bowl of popcorn, a beer, a little stroll on the roof, and probably hit the hay before 11pm. My mom flies home tomorrow night. I'll obviously be the person to blame if she misses her flight, because I don't want her to leave. I've already been practicing some soft, subtle weeping on my husband's shoulder. *sigh*
Tuesday, September 8
Yabba Dabba Doo!
Well hellooo! Yes, yes, the kids and I are safe in the fortress we call an apartment (pics to come). It rocks. Good size bedrooms, a whole space for the studio, lots of closet space including a walk-in in the bathroom, concrete walls (earthquakes here, aw yeah) 18th century tile (slightly dirty, har har), three sets of French doors, our own rooftop with ocean view... oh yes, and an insane amount of street noise which I think adds to the charm but bugs the heck out of Frank. He keeps saying we need egg crates for the front windows, whatever that means... I didn't think that was a window thing, but okay.
Certain things are less than cozy, like the cold-water-only bath and kitchen faucets (shower has hot water), and the laundry service that washes everything but socks and underwear. All in all, though, things are going swell. Frank and I tried to make a bet on who would be the first person/people to visit us, and the excitement fizzled a bit when we both picked the same person/people. Nonetheless, our door is always open if you happen to be in the neighborhood.
Well I'm off in search of dinner. A long day of ruins-visiting really gets an appetite working.
Love to all!
Certain things are less than cozy, like the cold-water-only bath and kitchen faucets (shower has hot water), and the laundry service that washes everything but socks and underwear. All in all, though, things are going swell. Frank and I tried to make a bet on who would be the first person/people to visit us, and the excitement fizzled a bit when we both picked the same person/people. Nonetheless, our door is always open if you happen to be in the neighborhood.
Well I'm off in search of dinner. A long day of ruins-visiting really gets an appetite working.
Love to all!
Sunday, August 30
The Beck
This is today's song.
I like Beck. Also playing a lot of Tears for Fears (best of).
Today Mom too me and the kids out to Elena Wu's for a nice dinner. Right now I am on the phone with our web hosting company trying to tell them how important it is that they fix our service, or figure out why it didn't work yesterday when they fixed it. Having the clients who pay our bills and whatnot. Downed server = very much not good.
Well, two more days, then we fly out.
I like Beck. Also playing a lot of Tears for Fears (best of).
Today Mom too me and the kids out to Elena Wu's for a nice dinner. Right now I am on the phone with our web hosting company trying to tell them how important it is that they fix our service, or figure out why it didn't work yesterday when they fixed it. Having the clients who pay our bills and whatnot. Downed server = very much not good.
Well, two more days, then we fly out.
Saturday, August 29
Make the noise you think electricity makes, then say "ZAP!" and that's how my brain feels
Confessions of a 'tiniholic... I drank about 16oz. of Washington apple martini around dinner time, and was feeling great. I snuggled in with Nico while I was tucking him in at bedtime, fell asleep for about an hour, and woke up with a pounding headache. My head feels absolutely zapped.
Today I bought another suitcase. Badly needed, even though Frank bitched at me for buying something (and I quote) "non-essential". I made a big stink in return, stating that it is, in fact, completely reasonable for a person in my situation to travel with three large bags and not just two. So fussy was I that the discussion ended with me shouting, "I gotta go! Bye! Bye bye bye! Bye!" and then I hung up. I'm sure he was just being annoying because he was stuck spending his Saturday mattress shopping, but hey, so what? Not only did I have to cancel my massage appointment to meet the washer repair guy at the condo (AGAIN!) and go to Target for the various last minute items, I also got stuck with the unglamorous task of turning in the car at the VW dealership.
Anyhoo, the extra luggage... a rolling duffel, very cute and rusty orange. I also got some basic meds and feminine care products because, while I'm sure there are organic cotton tampons to be found somewhere in Lima, I'm not sure if I'll be able to locate them upon arrival and I'd hate to be stuck with anything undesirable in that department. And speaking of things tampon-related, Livi secretly took one of them out of my suitcase, went behind the dining table bench to unwrap it (she undoubtedly thought it was food or candy), and emerged happily chewing on the cardboard applicator while holding the actual tampon in her hand as though it were a pet mouse. Cute, and not really gross because the tampon was fresh out of the box... but still, yeah, maybe a little weird. But funny. I took it away from her and she looked a little disappointed, and I told her not to look so confused until she is old enough to find out what that thing is really for.
Today I bought another suitcase. Badly needed, even though Frank bitched at me for buying something (and I quote) "non-essential". I made a big stink in return, stating that it is, in fact, completely reasonable for a person in my situation to travel with three large bags and not just two. So fussy was I that the discussion ended with me shouting, "I gotta go! Bye! Bye bye bye! Bye!" and then I hung up. I'm sure he was just being annoying because he was stuck spending his Saturday mattress shopping, but hey, so what? Not only did I have to cancel my massage appointment to meet the washer repair guy at the condo (AGAIN!) and go to Target for the various last minute items, I also got stuck with the unglamorous task of turning in the car at the VW dealership.
Anyhoo, the extra luggage... a rolling duffel, very cute and rusty orange. I also got some basic meds and feminine care products because, while I'm sure there are organic cotton tampons to be found somewhere in Lima, I'm not sure if I'll be able to locate them upon arrival and I'd hate to be stuck with anything undesirable in that department. And speaking of things tampon-related, Livi secretly took one of them out of my suitcase, went behind the dining table bench to unwrap it (she undoubtedly thought it was food or candy), and emerged happily chewing on the cardboard applicator while holding the actual tampon in her hand as though it were a pet mouse. Cute, and not really gross because the tampon was fresh out of the box... but still, yeah, maybe a little weird. But funny. I took it away from her and she looked a little disappointed, and I told her not to look so confused until she is old enough to find out what that thing is really for.
Wednesday, August 26
Life is Wonderful
My best friend Jen sent me this. Thanks, Mama. For everything. The talking, the listening, the encouragement, support, love, and mostly for helping me plant the seeds that become everything beautiful in this life. You are wonderful.
Love you, love me.
"Life is Wonderful" by Jason Mraz
p.s. The words "Yes, go! Do that!" will forever make me smile.
Love you, love me.
"Life is Wonderful" by Jason Mraz
p.s. The words "Yes, go! Do that!" will forever make me smile.
Tuesday, August 25
Emotions, indeed!
I wouldn't want anyone to think I am not having my typical million emotions over moving. The current mood I'm pushing forward with is... calm. Do what can be done, and fuck-all to the rest. Seven more days here doesn't seem like that long, so rather than spend my remaining U.S. posts sobbing, I'm going to play you what I'm listening to as I go about tying up all the loose ends and prepping myself and my babies for one amazing adventure.
Here's "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi" by Radiohead. You can watch this live performance if you're so inclined, and enjoy the lyrics of the day:
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?
I'd be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me
Turn me on to phantoms
I follow to the edge of the earth
And fall off
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this is my chance
Ok now come on, just watch the damn video. You'll like it. Alright, here I go, back to the boxes. What? Beer first? Oh, okay... twist my arm.
Here's "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi" by Radiohead. You can watch this live performance if you're so inclined, and enjoy the lyrics of the day:
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?
I'd be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me
Turn me on to phantoms
I follow to the edge of the earth
And fall off
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this is my chance
Ok now come on, just watch the damn video. You'll like it. Alright, here I go, back to the boxes. What? Beer first? Oh, okay... twist my arm.
Monday, August 24
Also...
Considering being a total lazy bastard and just flat out not doing all the stupid crap tasks that have to be completed this coming week. Pfft. I'm going to start off by ignoring the pile of junk on my bedroom floor. Instead, I'll direct my attention to the bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter and the very funny Weeds reruns with which I'm currently obsessed. Tah!
Lonely, tired, whatever.
Now that I am more relaxed about everything, I am actually feeling pretty lonely. Tallying up in my head, five of the past eight months have been spent without my husband. That alone is difficult, but on top of it I also have to absorb all of the emotional reaction from the kids.
Frank hardly ever complains about work, although sometimes he'll vent and I'll think, wow, it must be nice to have a difficult day dealing with adults. Adults. You know, those people who can control their emotions, communicate with a full vocabulary, feed themselves, and go to the bathroom and wipe their own asses without you being the least bit involved. And being able to take a 20 minute nap when things get really stressful... wow, that's rough!
At 11:40 tonight, I had a two-year-old screaming in my face. We had both zonked out on my bed while watching Cars, and when he realized I had woken up and was carrying him to his own room, a fight ensued, and it took me 15 minutes to get him calmed back down. It's weird, sometimes I have to say a bunch of things to Nico before something grabs his attention. Tonight, the thing that finally got him to calm down was me telling him I know he's mad that Daddy's not here, but Mommy IS here and he's not being very nice to her. I was holding him, trying to soothe him when I said it, and he nodded and hugged me really tight and I know he understood what I was getting at. Like, hey man, how about giving your old Moms a break? I'm here, and I'm doing my best, and you're giving me a bunch of shit for it? Not cool.
Right now I feel like I'm the only person in the family who has to full-on deal with the other three personalities. And seriously, I'm tired of it. I'm really looking forward about ten days, to that moment where the kids get into a shoving/screaming/biting/wrestling match over a toy, and I can finally point to Frank and tell them to talk to their daddy about it. Go ahead, kiddies. There's your man, take it up with him, and good luck!
Frank hardly ever complains about work, although sometimes he'll vent and I'll think, wow, it must be nice to have a difficult day dealing with adults. Adults. You know, those people who can control their emotions, communicate with a full vocabulary, feed themselves, and go to the bathroom and wipe their own asses without you being the least bit involved. And being able to take a 20 minute nap when things get really stressful... wow, that's rough!
At 11:40 tonight, I had a two-year-old screaming in my face. We had both zonked out on my bed while watching Cars, and when he realized I had woken up and was carrying him to his own room, a fight ensued, and it took me 15 minutes to get him calmed back down. It's weird, sometimes I have to say a bunch of things to Nico before something grabs his attention. Tonight, the thing that finally got him to calm down was me telling him I know he's mad that Daddy's not here, but Mommy IS here and he's not being very nice to her. I was holding him, trying to soothe him when I said it, and he nodded and hugged me really tight and I know he understood what I was getting at. Like, hey man, how about giving your old Moms a break? I'm here, and I'm doing my best, and you're giving me a bunch of shit for it? Not cool.
Right now I feel like I'm the only person in the family who has to full-on deal with the other three personalities. And seriously, I'm tired of it. I'm really looking forward about ten days, to that moment where the kids get into a shoving/screaming/biting/wrestling match over a toy, and I can finally point to Frank and tell them to talk to their daddy about it. Go ahead, kiddies. There's your man, take it up with him, and good luck!
Saturday, August 22
High Five
Tonight I let Nico stay up until about 10:30. He napped for four hours this afternoon, and I think he needed a little alone time with the mama. I told him he could watch some t.v. in my room, and then he asked if we could make a party house (or a fort, for all you non-party people) so I figured, sure! why not! and stretched a big blanket halfway across the room (one side tucked under the mattress, the other side gripped by the top dresser drawer). Only problem was, if he sat inside the fort, he couldn't see the television which sits on top of the dresser.
When I let Nico watch t.v. after 9/9:30pm, it's really just to let him settle down and relax the brain a bit. It's not for hyper entertainment or because I believe Wow Wow Wubbzy offers the créme de la créme of valuable life lessons. Nico is one highly emotional kid, and it's not as though he zones out... we talk about the cartoon plot, or which colors are in a certain character's outfit, or what all the characters' names are. We also go over our four-step list for what happens when his show is over: toothbrush, pee pee in the potty, agua, night night.
Anyway, tonight I arranged a nice little spot for him on the bed, diagonally across the room from the t.v. Then, with thumb tacks, I hung the blanket in a big triangle shape three feet above his head, with some edges and corners hanging down -- jungle! woo! It was spectacular. So impressive, in fact, that Nico gave me a high five and told me I did a good job. What can I say, buddy... I try.
When I let Nico watch t.v. after 9/9:30pm, it's really just to let him settle down and relax the brain a bit. It's not for hyper entertainment or because I believe Wow Wow Wubbzy offers the créme de la créme of valuable life lessons. Nico is one highly emotional kid, and it's not as though he zones out... we talk about the cartoon plot, or which colors are in a certain character's outfit, or what all the characters' names are. We also go over our four-step list for what happens when his show is over: toothbrush, pee pee in the potty, agua, night night.
Anyway, tonight I arranged a nice little spot for him on the bed, diagonally across the room from the t.v. Then, with thumb tacks, I hung the blanket in a big triangle shape three feet above his head, with some edges and corners hanging down -- jungle! woo! It was spectacular. So impressive, in fact, that Nico gave me a high five and told me I did a good job. What can I say, buddy... I try.
I could be from Neptune and you'd have no idea!
Okay, I had something clever in mind to do with that title, but I got distracted for a moment and the thought is gone. I think my concentration broke as soon as I realized I didn't mean to say Neptune, but rather Atlantis. D'oh!
Thursday, August 20
Hi, I'm Ricky Fitts. I just moved into the house next door.
Here's a little business tip:
If you're going to hound someone about something in the business world, and you see an email from them in your inbox, and you see their name in your voice mail list, do yourself and that person a favor and read the email and listen to the message. It never fails to amaze me how many business-type people never follow this simple rule.
Listening nowadays is a big, broad spectrum. It's not just the phone call. It's also the messages, emails, texts, etc. I'll admit that I'm completely guilty of working on my own schedule. It's my own private way of flipping off the establishment. (F-U, establishment! Suck on that!) Now I can't elaborate on that without sounding like (more of?) an asshole, but I think you know I mean. There's something about having someone flat out ignore my communication that just kills my soul a little. I love the connection happening between art and business. The interwebs, the logos, the big hooks, and the tiny details. But you slap too much business on it, and *pfft* it's suddenly annoying and meaningless.
And so here is my advice to you, you higher-ups, you hounders of hounds, you concerned non-listeners, you consultants and steppers-in:
Art is first and foremost for making beauty. You can use it to make money, too, but really it's about opening up something between people that you can't learn while you're out exercising your MBA. You can pat me on the head a little after your check clears, but please, pleeease, don't muss the hair.
** Ricky Fitts is from "American Beauty". **
If you're going to hound someone about something in the business world, and you see an email from them in your inbox, and you see their name in your voice mail list, do yourself and that person a favor and read the email and listen to the message. It never fails to amaze me how many business-type people never follow this simple rule.
Listening nowadays is a big, broad spectrum. It's not just the phone call. It's also the messages, emails, texts, etc. I'll admit that I'm completely guilty of working on my own schedule. It's my own private way of flipping off the establishment. (F-U, establishment! Suck on that!) Now I can't elaborate on that without sounding like (more of?) an asshole, but I think you know I mean. There's something about having someone flat out ignore my communication that just kills my soul a little. I love the connection happening between art and business. The interwebs, the logos, the big hooks, and the tiny details. But you slap too much business on it, and *pfft* it's suddenly annoying and meaningless.
And so here is my advice to you, you higher-ups, you hounders of hounds, you concerned non-listeners, you consultants and steppers-in:
Art is first and foremost for making beauty. You can use it to make money, too, but really it's about opening up something between people that you can't learn while you're out exercising your MBA. You can pat me on the head a little after your check clears, but please, pleeease, don't muss the hair.
** Ricky Fitts is from "American Beauty". **
Tuesday, August 18
Umbrella, please
When it rains, it certainly does pour. There are a bunch of extra things, big things, getting piled on top of what I thought would be a relatively stress-free last couple of weeks. I'm feeling frustrated, and trying not to over-stress, but I will admit it's difficult to stay focused and positive when everything seems to be pouring down upon my spinning little head.
Monday, August 17
It's not Bewitched!
All day long, my nose has been tingling. I took it upon myself to Google what this means. You know, how itchy palms mean you're giving or getting money, or ringing ears means someone is talking about you. From what various people's grandmas are saying on the interwebs, it means one of the following things: someone loves you, someone is thinking about you, you're really stressed, or you're really angry.
I won't tell you which one(s) apply to me right now. I'll spare you the details and leave you all with the super fun of guessing. Joy!
I won't tell you which one(s) apply to me right now. I'll spare you the details and leave you all with the super fun of guessing. Joy!
Friday, August 14
Warning!
I'm going to start changing the look of La Rivera. One day you might click here and wonder if you're in the correct place, and I just want you to know... yes. Yes you are.
Thrilling news, tonight I fell asleep at 8:20something. It's 1:30am now and I'm awake (duh) and about to enjoy what my dear friend Jen calls "brainfood". Mix and match fruits/veggies/cheeses/crackers/dips. Before I go and do that, I have to tell you what happened while I was out having all-you-can-eat crab legs last night with my other dear friend, Tammi. We were getting ready to use our Handi Wipes (because, let's face it, there are few things messier on the hands than two hours of non-stop crab rippin') and we started talking about getting ready to miss each other. I guess I started pouting a little, and then I guess my eyes began to well up, and Tammi leaned forward and said, "What the fuck are you doing? Are you crying?!" And I almost peed myself laughing, and I realize now that what I really heard her saying was, "Yep, I love you, too."
Thrilling news, tonight I fell asleep at 8:20something. It's 1:30am now and I'm awake (duh) and about to enjoy what my dear friend Jen calls "brainfood". Mix and match fruits/veggies/cheeses/crackers/dips. Before I go and do that, I have to tell you what happened while I was out having all-you-can-eat crab legs last night with my other dear friend, Tammi. We were getting ready to use our Handi Wipes (because, let's face it, there are few things messier on the hands than two hours of non-stop crab rippin') and we started talking about getting ready to miss each other. I guess I started pouting a little, and then I guess my eyes began to well up, and Tammi leaned forward and said, "What the fuck are you doing? Are you crying?!" And I almost peed myself laughing, and I realize now that what I really heard her saying was, "Yep, I love you, too."
Thursday, August 13
A message to the buyer
I'm not sure who picked up the tab for my drinks at the World Café Jugband show on Saturday. Whoever you are, mystery tab picker upper, I owe you one. No, wait. I owe you two. And I'd like to tell you three things: (1) thank you very much, (2) I left in a flurry of goodbyes and spaced out, and (3) I'd be happy to show my appreciation by mailing you some cash. Don't all answer at once, now. I'm not that rich.
Wednesday, August 12
Myew, myew!
Okay, so Livi has this little stuffed kitten that came with a doll Jen gave her. We've had the kitty for about four months, and just the other day she picked it up (pretty much the first attention she's paid to the toy), hugged it, and made a kitty cat noise. I swear my heart melted right inside my chest cavity.
Other cuteness -- thanks to Nico, Fraggle Rock shall henceforth be known as Fraggle Party.
Other cuteness -- thanks to Nico, Fraggle Rock shall henceforth be known as Fraggle Party.
Thursday, August 6
Almost here! (or there)
Looking at the calendar today, I realized I only have about four weeks to wrap stuff up. I'm really looking forward to seeing my hubby again, and I know the kids are so excited to see their daddy. As cheesy as it might sound, it's tough to feel complete when one of us is not here. I'm also just looking forward in general to moving into our own space, in a whole other place. This was an awesome decision, and I'm glad the four of us are going for it. You probably won't even have a chance to miss me, because I'll be blabbing about it all here.
Tonight was a lotta paper sorting and deciding what to keep, recycle, or shred. I have to wait a couple of weeks to actually buy my suitcases, so for now I'm mock-packing in boxes just to narrow it down as I go. I'm only bringing my large back pack and a couple of suitcases, and it's important to me to feel like everything here is neat and tidy while we're away.
Posting may get sporadic for the time being, but fear not. I will be back.
Tonight was a lotta paper sorting and deciding what to keep, recycle, or shred. I have to wait a couple of weeks to actually buy my suitcases, so for now I'm mock-packing in boxes just to narrow it down as I go. I'm only bringing my large back pack and a couple of suitcases, and it's important to me to feel like everything here is neat and tidy while we're away.
Posting may get sporadic for the time being, but fear not. I will be back.
Wednesday, August 5
A pleasant woman; one of international intrigue and mystery.
Yeah man, check out the new passport photo. Don't anybody go thefting my identity or anything. Even if you did, I'm not sure you could handle all the pressures that come with traveling the globe and daring to look so darn good.
Monday, August 3
Internationally capable cuteness
The kids got their passports in the mail today. The three of us went to do the applications and photos not more than two weeks ago, so I'm thinking that was a pretty quick turnaround. Mine is still in progress; it's a renewal and name change. I'm a little sad to lose my old passport book. It had my stamps from Europe, where we found it easier and more cost effective to fly between a few countries. There were a couple of train rides which were fun, but it only takes a few hours to fly from A to B if you're going from, say, Amsterdam to Dublin as opposed to spending eight to ten hours on two trains and a ferry. Anyhoo, it had my Europe stamps and my original Peru stamps, and the back cover was adorned with Virgin Atlantic stickers. Losing any "accomplishment sticker" is a huge travesty of justice, but now that I think about it my new photo is better and that kind of makes up for everything.
I'm just waiting (for the greater part of an hour) for the kids to settle down and take their naps. Olivia is the troublesome one lately. She hollers and does raspberries at Nico, and he screams at her to go to be quiet! and go to sleeeep! because Nico sleeping! It's entertaining, but right now they are both wound up and it's starting to annoy me a little. I am waiting for some peace and quiet so I can get a bit of work finished, and then reward myself with a nice cold beer before they wake up from their naps which, judging by how things are going at the moment, should be some time around 7pm.
I'm just waiting (for the greater part of an hour) for the kids to settle down and take their naps. Olivia is the troublesome one lately. She hollers and does raspberries at Nico, and he screams at her to go to be quiet! and go to sleeeep! because Nico sleeping! It's entertaining, but right now they are both wound up and it's starting to annoy me a little. I am waiting for some peace and quiet so I can get a bit of work finished, and then reward myself with a nice cold beer before they wake up from their naps which, judging by how things are going at the moment, should be some time around 7pm.
Sunday, August 2
Maybe to be continued
I'm deciding whether or not to continue my blog in South America. I'll surely be busier than I am now since I'll be right there near the studio, instead of here with the work buffer zone in between me and the office space. At first I'll be busy dragging my mom out to shop for things like dishes, linens, and basic cleaning supplies. Also, I will probably have to go out and buy a washer/dryer and a stove. I think husband is taking care of the fridge, beds, sofa, and dining table. Mid-August I will finally have photos of my future apartment in the Barranco district of Lima. I've heard it's awesome, and I'm sure it will not disappoint. Three bedrooms, one and a half baths, housekeeper's quarters (aka a room somewhere in the apartment where I can stash, then find, the laundry appliances), a very adorable little kitchen, a small balcony, and a great window overlooking the street. We're right on (or right off, I cannot remember) one of the main streets, Avenida Grau.
So one thing I'm mulling over, should I decide to blog on, is what to name the Peruvian period. While I'm thinking about that, you should check out these photos of my soon-to-be new 'hood. Not sure who Javi is, but he sure knows how to shoot Barranco.
So one thing I'm mulling over, should I decide to blog on, is what to name the Peruvian period. While I'm thinking about that, you should check out these photos of my soon-to-be new 'hood. Not sure who Javi is, but he sure knows how to shoot Barranco.
Peanut butter that I never get to eat
Packing to leave for Peru is starting to seem like the endless task. For every outgrown kids' outfit I put in the Goodwill bag, out pops another item I'm not quite sure what to do with. Be it off-season clothing of my own (Mother Nature is reversed in Llama Land) or the kids' bed sheets or my decent-size jewelry box, there seems to be a lot that could go either way. Do I really need my jewelry box? Considering there are about six pairs of earrings and two necklaces in there, I'd say probably not. But then I feel like I'll have to buy a bunch of new everyday items down there if I don't just bring what I already have. As for the bedding, I don't even know if they have the same standard size toddler mattresses in South America. Probably the internets could tell me, but again, one more thing to look up. *pfft*
In other developing news, Nico and Livi are crazy about peanut butter. And straws. And eating my cereal with milk. They eat their own cereal, dry, first thing in the morning. Then once I sit down with my bowl and spoon, they're all over me like baby birds. Peep! peep! cereal! It's a wonder I get to eat at all the way these kids claim all the food for themselves. I might be angry if they weren't so darn cute.
In other developing news, Nico and Livi are crazy about peanut butter. And straws. And eating my cereal with milk. They eat their own cereal, dry, first thing in the morning. Then once I sit down with my bowl and spoon, they're all over me like baby birds. Peep! peep! cereal! It's a wonder I get to eat at all the way these kids claim all the food for themselves. I might be angry if they weren't so darn cute.
Wednesday, July 29
Little mice?
I just went into my room and found, empty, on my little table the following items:
small plastic cookie-size container
lid to small plastic cookie-size container
rubber band that was being used to securely hold said lid to said container
I did not find the following:
four cookie-size cookies
Also, when I opened up my computer just now, there were 10 or 12 decent size cookie crumbs that had been mashed into both the screen and keyboard. How mysterious!
small plastic cookie-size container
lid to small plastic cookie-size container
rubber band that was being used to securely hold said lid to said container
I did not find the following:
four cookie-size cookies
Also, when I opened up my computer just now, there were 10 or 12 decent size cookie crumbs that had been mashed into both the screen and keyboard. How mysterious!
Sunday, July 26
Lady, put that baby away, will you? (Or, who the hell are you and why are you showing me your uterus?)
Just a little side thought about the old FB. I am continually amazed at how many people leave their photo albums visible to friends of friends. Where it really surprises me is in the ultrasound department. Don't get me wrong. I love babies. And the uterus? It's my all-time favorite female reproductive organ. And fetuses, well, come on. Adorable!
Friends can show me their unborn children any time. I signed up for that, and I'm excited to see things are going swell for people I know. I just keep thinking the other babies-on-the-way should be kept a bit more private by the parents who have no idea I even exist. In my day, we used email to show people our ultrasounds, and the list was seldom more than 10 people long. Maybe I'm old fashioned?
Friends can show me their unborn children any time. I signed up for that, and I'm excited to see things are going swell for people I know. I just keep thinking the other babies-on-the-way should be kept a bit more private by the parents who have no idea I even exist. In my day, we used email to show people our ultrasounds, and the list was seldom more than 10 people long. Maybe I'm old fashioned?
Saturday, July 25
Doing
Welp, looks like six weeks to go. So much to get done. But I have commenced doing, unlike the previous entry where my active-o-meter was stuck on zero. I even found luggage that looks really cute with my beloved Kelty Coyote backpack.
Dark gray, light gray, steel blue, and faded orange. How can you not love that?
*not sure what's up with the gray stroke around the image. hmm.
Dark gray, light gray, steel blue, and faded orange. How can you not love that?
*not sure what's up with the gray stroke around the image. hmm.
Sunday, July 19
Sunday, July 19, 2009. 9:44 p.m.
Every summer there comes a point when I honestly, truly forget what day of the week it is. I just had my 2009 moment. And I actually, each year, forget it even happens until it happens. Again.
I have so many things to do that I can't even organize them into a to-do list. Okay, not true. I could do it. I just don't feel like writing it all down, and couple of things are so big that they don't need to be listed, like getting/updating passports. And buying more luggage. I love the back pack I use for travel. It's a womens' Kelty Coyote. I had planned on never really having formal luggage since I had already found the perfect thing. So my first thought was to get one or two more packs, because I know I like them and they would get a ton of use. I don't know... I guess we'll see how much space I really need.
I have so many things to do that I can't even organize them into a to-do list. Okay, not true. I could do it. I just don't feel like writing it all down, and couple of things are so big that they don't need to be listed, like getting/updating passports. And buying more luggage. I love the back pack I use for travel. It's a womens' Kelty Coyote. I had planned on never really having formal luggage since I had already found the perfect thing. So my first thought was to get one or two more packs, because I know I like them and they would get a ton of use. I don't know... I guess we'll see how much space I really need.
Wednesday, July 15
I've been cooking
Monday, roasted chicken. Tuesday, quesadillas. Today, shrimp scampi with whole wheat penne. The kids are way into having grilled cheese for lunch, so that's easy. I've just been grazing here and there. I think I've just got a lot on the brain. Anyway I'm thinking about actually using the apron my mom gave me for Mother's Day. It's cute, embroidered with the following hilarity: I understand the concept of cooking, just not how it applies to me.
Ooh, by the way, this is my 500th blog post!
Ooh, by the way, this is my 500th blog post!
Monday, July 13
So... guess what
I'm moving to Peru. No, really.
This is something that's been a few years in the making. First as a joke, then as a little bit of a curious thing, and finally a full-blown happening. The best way I can explain why I'm going is... have you ever wanted to just go and live in another country? Not to start over, but to move forward? To find out what's next? To do it because you just haven't done it yet? To know how life goes in another part of the world? Because there's always been a little bit of curiosity in you, and you always thought maybe it would be a fucking blast to just get off your ass and go do it? Well, me too. And that's why I'm moving. To Peru.
Listen, I'm going to tell you something. I plan on never working another 9 to 5 job again in my life unless somebody offers me a ridonkulous amount of money. What my husband and I do for work, we can do anywhere in the world. Nothing about that will change in South America. Except that the Peruvian exchange rate is a little over three to one in our favor. It's just... time. So off we go. I have things to wrap up here, so I'm not leaving tomorrow. But soon. I am completely stoked, and ready to get my Spanish on -- while I'm not totally fluent, I did take four years in high school and two years in college, and I can hold my own when I put my mind to it. Shah!
This is something that's been a few years in the making. First as a joke, then as a little bit of a curious thing, and finally a full-blown happening. The best way I can explain why I'm going is... have you ever wanted to just go and live in another country? Not to start over, but to move forward? To find out what's next? To do it because you just haven't done it yet? To know how life goes in another part of the world? Because there's always been a little bit of curiosity in you, and you always thought maybe it would be a fucking blast to just get off your ass and go do it? Well, me too. And that's why I'm moving. To Peru.
Listen, I'm going to tell you something. I plan on never working another 9 to 5 job again in my life unless somebody offers me a ridonkulous amount of money. What my husband and I do for work, we can do anywhere in the world. Nothing about that will change in South America. Except that the Peruvian exchange rate is a little over three to one in our favor. It's just... time. So off we go. I have things to wrap up here, so I'm not leaving tomorrow. But soon. I am completely stoked, and ready to get my Spanish on -- while I'm not totally fluent, I did take four years in high school and two years in college, and I can hold my own when I put my mind to it. Shah!
Sunday, July 12
Just a weird little thing
I was just looking over Frank's expired maroon passport, at the identification page. Marital status, occupation, height, sex, etc. He's listed as having black hair (okay, expected) and black... eyes? Also, all his stats are hand written, in blue ball point pen.
Okay. Back to cleaning.
Okay. Back to cleaning.
Wednesday, July 8
Happy new year
So today I turn 34. Woot! Pretty much business as usual around here. This morning the kids and I took a stroll to the supermarket, where we bought chicken (which I'm about to marinate), fruit, and envelopes. Right now the kids are napping, and what with the built-in babysitting (my niece is visiting for the month), I took it upon myself to go out to Haddonfield and woof down a roasted veggie burrito with guac and sour cream. I also did a couple of shots. Wheatgrass, but still. Right now I'm thinking about going over to the water ice place (which is the world's best water ice place, I'm not even joking) and paying a little extra to have the kid scoop some mint chocolate chip directly into my mouth.
And so begins a year of adventure. Just wait and see what happens next.
And so begins a year of adventure. Just wait and see what happens next.
Monday, July 6
Entertainment.
I have a favorite movie scene. In Lost in Translation, when Charlotte and John bump into Kelly in the hallway, and Kelly is blabbering on and on, and she blurts out, "Oh my God, I have the worst b.o. right now, I'm so sorry..." and then gets right back to the conversation. (Here's part of it, I can't find a decent clip of the whole scene.) I could watch it a hundred times and not like it any less.
Saturday, June 27
Relax your mind, lay back and groove with mine
The herb garden is really taking shape. Nicely. There's visible cilantro, and the fluffy little beginnings of sweet basil. I'm pretty certain it has much to do with the fact that Chief Rootsy (seen here hiding among the rosemary) is keeping vigilant watch for squirrels and chipmunks. I'm not one for going overboard with pinwheels and other garden chatch. A chunk of amethyst or rose quartz, maybe, but that stuff is more about communing with the earth than anything. Anyway, here's The Chief. I told him not to be smoking any "peace pipes" out there at night. I don't want anything springing up that I didn't plant with my own two hands. We have an unspoken agreement... he's there to keep the good garden vibes, and make sure nobody brings any stress out near the herbs. So far, so good, Rootsy. Way to keep the peace, my man.
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* We've got MJ Blogger Challenge happening this week. Today is Rock with You, from the album Off the Wall.
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* We've got MJ Blogger Challenge happening this week. Today is Rock with You, from the album Off the Wall.
Friday, June 26
Friday night, uncut.
Here's what's happening here tonight:
Frank and I are comparing Pandora stations. If you've never sat with anyone else and done this, try it. Tonight I learned that I am a minimalist. Doesn't sound that earth shattering, I know, but I told Frank to guess how many stations I had. He said between eight and twelve. I had six and the list is as follows:
Roy Orbison Radio
St. Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Dance 2night Radio
Reggae/Dancehall
Exotica/Lounge
Radiohead Radio
plus tonight's new additions...
Eurythmics Radio and Rock with You Radio
So now I have eight. I asked Frank why he said I'm a minimalist, and he rattled off a very sensible and convincing list of my idiosyncratic behaviors. Correct on all counts, I have to admit. So there, I learned something about me. I guessed that he has 40 Pandora stations, and he has 41. I guess I figure I don't need a bunch of stations because he's usually the one playing music, which is sexy and I really like it, so going five-to-seven steps beyond Radiohead is a big stretch for me since I'm pretty well set in with knowing what I like. Then he showed me that he has three and a half pages of iPhone apps, while I have a mere four apps that aren't part of the standard package. That's one full page, because I closed some of the more bullshitty standard apps. * Late note: Reading this again, I think I must have meant to say free apps at the end of that last sentence, not standard apps. *
So what am I doing right now? I'm singing along, serenading Frank (he loves it), to Orbi's "You Got It". I sing "anything you want, you got it" and he says, anything? and I sing "anything at all... baaaby" and he says how about anal? and then laughs and mimics my voice and says "no, not that" and I laugh and he mimics himself and says "hey wait you said anything" and then mimics me, saying "noooo, not anal!" and does the manly voice again and says "you told me anything -- lies!" and we're both laughing.
We're talking about how nice it is to be an artist, and how Joan Jett is really sexy, and I'm inventing a dancehall move that involves giving double middle fingers to nobody in particular.
Best song I've heard tonight? I Wanna be Your Lover, by Prince. Love that song. I am about 99% sure it was released in 1979, but I know I didn't hear it until I was working at The Body Shop in 1994. I think I prefer it when Prince goes straghtforward with the song writing. It's just so sexy. Or sexxxy, or however you think Prince would write it.
Frank and I are comparing Pandora stations. If you've never sat with anyone else and done this, try it. Tonight I learned that I am a minimalist. Doesn't sound that earth shattering, I know, but I told Frank to guess how many stations I had. He said between eight and twelve. I had six and the list is as follows:
Roy Orbison Radio
St. Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Dance 2night Radio
Reggae/Dancehall
Exotica/Lounge
Radiohead Radio
plus tonight's new additions...
Eurythmics Radio and Rock with You Radio
So now I have eight. I asked Frank why he said I'm a minimalist, and he rattled off a very sensible and convincing list of my idiosyncratic behaviors. Correct on all counts, I have to admit. So there, I learned something about me. I guessed that he has 40 Pandora stations, and he has 41. I guess I figure I don't need a bunch of stations because he's usually the one playing music, which is sexy and I really like it, so going five-to-seven steps beyond Radiohead is a big stretch for me since I'm pretty well set in with knowing what I like. Then he showed me that he has three and a half pages of iPhone apps, while I have a mere four apps that aren't part of the standard package. That's one full page, because I closed some of the more bullshitty standard apps. * Late note: Reading this again, I think I must have meant to say free apps at the end of that last sentence, not standard apps. *
So what am I doing right now? I'm singing along, serenading Frank (he loves it), to Orbi's "You Got It". I sing "anything you want, you got it" and he says, anything? and I sing "anything at all... baaaby" and he says how about anal? and then laughs and mimics my voice and says "no, not that" and I laugh and he mimics himself and says "hey wait you said anything" and then mimics me, saying "noooo, not anal!" and does the manly voice again and says "you told me anything -- lies!" and we're both laughing.
We're talking about how nice it is to be an artist, and how Joan Jett is really sexy, and I'm inventing a dancehall move that involves giving double middle fingers to nobody in particular.
Best song I've heard tonight? I Wanna be Your Lover, by Prince. Love that song. I am about 99% sure it was released in 1979, but I know I didn't hear it until I was working at The Body Shop in 1994. I think I prefer it when Prince goes straghtforward with the song writing. It's just so sexy. Or sexxxy, or however you think Prince would write it.
Tuesday, June 23
Namaste, people. Namaste.
Looks like I have a real inner peace happening. There are so many things that could, nay, should, be putting me in a shitty mood. But no. I feel so chill that I'm sending some of it out to all of you. So feel that, my dears. Feel that.
Monday, June 22
Don't worry, it's a bubble mower.
I've been sitting at the table in the living room almost the entire time I've been awake today. There was a brief stint of productivity around 9am, when I typed and sent an invoice and made two phone calls. After that, I started spacing out and have yet to regain control over the brain. It hasn't necessarily been a bad day. The kids have been good, and I did go over a few work-related details with mister. Housework here and there, flipping through photos, and not much of an appetite except for some coffee, fresh fruit, and a beer I've been nursing since 5:00. Please, now, take some enjoyment in these lovely pictures I found.
If this little boy knocks on your door and asks to mow your lawn, just tell him no, thanks, as he has very little regard for basic rules of safety.
And keep this little girl away from your plastic garden.
My new favorite iPhone app is CameraBag. On Saturday night, I took some phone pics of my duotone nail polish job while eating Penang satay tofu and watching an episode of the original Star Trek series. I was apping in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts that a young Leonard Nimoy could be deemed quite handsome. Not sure whether to call the results "a strikingly complimentary choice of color" or "just plain fabulous", so I'll let you decide for yourselves.
Finally, a rainbow. Running the full gamut of classiness, it's a Crate & Barrel rocks glass filled with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Because I'm too special to drink straight from aluminum.
If this little boy knocks on your door and asks to mow your lawn, just tell him no, thanks, as he has very little regard for basic rules of safety.
And keep this little girl away from your plastic garden.
My new favorite iPhone app is CameraBag. On Saturday night, I took some phone pics of my duotone nail polish job while eating Penang satay tofu and watching an episode of the original Star Trek series. I was apping in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts that a young Leonard Nimoy could be deemed quite handsome. Not sure whether to call the results "a strikingly complimentary choice of color" or "just plain fabulous", so I'll let you decide for yourselves.
Finally, a rainbow. Running the full gamut of classiness, it's a Crate & Barrel rocks glass filled with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Because I'm too special to drink straight from aluminum.
Friday, June 19
10 years
I just finished up doing some paperwork I've been putting off for a couple of weeks. I feel so much better. It's just this one thing I was procrastinating on, looking at it just sitting there on the desk. Finally I took 30 minutes to complete it. *fshew*
It's been a weird day. I booked Frank a flight for a two week trip to Peru in July. He'll be gone for my birthday, which is fine since we are actually celebrating later in the month with tickets to a really good soccer match. This game is also an anniversary gift... tomorrow marks the 10 year anniversary of our first date. Philly Chinatown, Penang, table for two by the big windows in front.
We still go to Penang, only now the decor has been redone (still awesome) and the manager who always wore tropical shirts is gone. I'm comforted, however, by the outstanding Singapore rice noodles, the satay tofu, and the roti cani. They're still around, and still as good as our first date.
It's been a weird day. I booked Frank a flight for a two week trip to Peru in July. He'll be gone for my birthday, which is fine since we are actually celebrating later in the month with tickets to a really good soccer match. This game is also an anniversary gift... tomorrow marks the 10 year anniversary of our first date. Philly Chinatown, Penang, table for two by the big windows in front.
We still go to Penang, only now the decor has been redone (still awesome) and the manager who always wore tropical shirts is gone. I'm comforted, however, by the outstanding Singapore rice noodles, the satay tofu, and the roti cani. They're still around, and still as good as our first date.
Wednesday, June 17
Well then just don't pick up, mmmkay?
Pet peeve situation:
Client, in typical fashion, emails designer asking designer to call client. Designer calls client. Client answers phone, mid-sentence, talking to someone else. Designer waits for client to finish talking to other person. Client says hello. Designer says hi, it's so-and-so. Silence, then client mumbling, then more silence. Designer, again, says hi, it's so-and-so, I got your email asking me to call you. Client says ok, hi, and I'm in the middle of a meeting, can I call you back in a few? Designer says sure, and hangs up.
Designer would very much appreciate the following:
Basic courtesy. Also, if you can't talk, then just don't pick up the phone. Finally, be an adult and just call me. No need to email me asking me to call, just so you can tell me you can't talk. Just make it easier and call when you are actually available. Thanks.
Client, in typical fashion, emails designer asking designer to call client. Designer calls client. Client answers phone, mid-sentence, talking to someone else. Designer waits for client to finish talking to other person. Client says hello. Designer says hi, it's so-and-so. Silence, then client mumbling, then more silence. Designer, again, says hi, it's so-and-so, I got your email asking me to call you. Client says ok, hi, and I'm in the middle of a meeting, can I call you back in a few? Designer says sure, and hangs up.
Designer would very much appreciate the following:
Basic courtesy. Also, if you can't talk, then just don't pick up the phone. Finally, be an adult and just call me. No need to email me asking me to call, just so you can tell me you can't talk. Just make it easier and call when you are actually available. Thanks.
Sunday, June 14
My weekend
Our weekend trip to Brooklyn was... wonderful. First of all, the kids absolutely lit up once we got near the city. Not sure if it was the skyscrapers, the graffiti, or all the people, but you could practically hear them thinking, WOW! Adorable.
The first thing we did at George and Irene's was take the kids up to the roof, where they ran around and played soccer while the guys got the barbecue grill smoking. Next, the kids caught a little nap and some quiet time until it got dark, then we were back and forth to the roof until they got completely worn out. They sleep through party noise pretty well, so I plugged in the video monitor, went back up to the roof, and actually got to spend a bunch of time talking to my friends and meeting people from all over the planet. Met people from Colombia and Venezuela, and so got to practice a teeny bit of Spanish. Stood with Irene and speculated about which of the neighbors (from another party in the building) was the most coked up, and gave the prize to the guy who shouted about having eating our grilled chicken and then kicked a half-loaded beer can into a group of people. Our group of people. So that was nice. Frank, who was obviously not getting enough attention, slipped on the stairs and mangled his hip. Ice, Advil, and as good as new if you don't count the grapefruit-sized bruise. He kept using it as an excuse to show me his ass so I could "check out the injury" and and give my opinion on whether or not his hip looked broken.
Back at the party... talked to a dude visiting from Germany about Obama and the return of optimism, Bush, recycling, family roots, and the fabulosity that is France, especially the fashion and the pastry -- can I get a oui, oui?! Then I amused myself for a good hour just by listening to the guys trade NY animation scene gossip and speculate on whether they would get to see any UFOs. There was another roof party a few blocks away playing really nice electronic music, so I took some time to dance to that before finally landing myself in bed. This morning we went out for a yummy Mexican breakfast where my two usually-restaurant-friendly children made so much noise I had to ask Husband to take them outside so I could finish and enjoy the last few minutes of my meal and drink half of my coffee, which was already in a to-go cup.
So those are the highlights. For the rest of tonight, I might watch some TV or read a book. Since I seem to be the only person who even gives a crap about Mr. Darcy anymore, I suppose television would be the logical choice. Goodnight, all.
The first thing we did at George and Irene's was take the kids up to the roof, where they ran around and played soccer while the guys got the barbecue grill smoking. Next, the kids caught a little nap and some quiet time until it got dark, then we were back and forth to the roof until they got completely worn out. They sleep through party noise pretty well, so I plugged in the video monitor, went back up to the roof, and actually got to spend a bunch of time talking to my friends and meeting people from all over the planet. Met people from Colombia and Venezuela, and so got to practice a teeny bit of Spanish. Stood with Irene and speculated about which of the neighbors (from another party in the building) was the most coked up, and gave the prize to the guy who shouted about having eating our grilled chicken and then kicked a half-loaded beer can into a group of people. Our group of people. So that was nice. Frank, who was obviously not getting enough attention, slipped on the stairs and mangled his hip. Ice, Advil, and as good as new if you don't count the grapefruit-sized bruise. He kept using it as an excuse to show me his ass so I could "check out the injury" and and give my opinion on whether or not his hip looked broken.
Back at the party... talked to a dude visiting from Germany about Obama and the return of optimism, Bush, recycling, family roots, and the fabulosity that is France, especially the fashion and the pastry -- can I get a oui, oui?! Then I amused myself for a good hour just by listening to the guys trade NY animation scene gossip and speculate on whether they would get to see any UFOs. There was another roof party a few blocks away playing really nice electronic music, so I took some time to dance to that before finally landing myself in bed. This morning we went out for a yummy Mexican breakfast where my two usually-restaurant-friendly children made so much noise I had to ask Husband to take them outside so I could finish and enjoy the last few minutes of my meal and drink half of my coffee, which was already in a to-go cup.
So those are the highlights. For the rest of tonight, I might watch some TV or read a book. Since I seem to be the only person who even gives a crap about Mr. Darcy anymore, I suppose television would be the logical choice. Goodnight, all.
Friday, June 12
One for Rawley, one for you.
I really like Current Tonight, the 11:00 news program on Current TV. I fell in love with host Rawley Valverde a few years ago when the channel first aired this segment called "Rawley and the Gorillas". I recommend you forward in about 4m 30s. Watch for about two more minutes, then see Rawley come to life. The whole 11+ minute clip loads pretty quickly, so mouseover the bottom of the video to fast forward if you want the gist of it. Try watching a couple of episodes of Current Tonight and try to tell me you don't want to kiss Rawley.
Tomorrow we're going up to Brooklyn to spend the night with friends. It'll be Nico and Livi's very first rooftop party, so we're excited and can't wait to see everyone. Have a great weekend. *mwah*
Tomorrow we're going up to Brooklyn to spend the night with friends. It'll be Nico and Livi's very first rooftop party, so we're excited and can't wait to see everyone. Have a great weekend. *mwah*
Tuesday, June 9
Shout out to AZ
This is just a little something for Toni.
We are thinking about you, and sending much strength to Norm, you, and all those you love.
We are thinking about you, and sending much strength to Norm, you, and all those you love.
Monday, June 8
In with the something
My loves, with so much joy/movement/up-side-downness going on, I started thinking it might be nice to start another blog. Something different. But about what? That, as they say, is the kicker. I could write about other stuff I like, but honestly I am not sure how many of you want to read my waxing about why I hold such a great preference for the knit stitch over the backward-seeming purl. Right?
Well... seeing as I've just procrastinated myself out of ten minutes, when I should have been showering and prepping to storyboard an intro, I should get on with the business of tonight's reality. There's this animator I use when I need something done in Flash, and he's very particular. Also, I have realized that we butt heads a lot when we collaborate, and that we probably sound a lot like Lucy and Ricky hollering at each other about ridiculous misunderstandings and that we are both suddenly incredibly indignant in the face of each others' constructive criticism. p.s. I'm talking about Frank. Between his dyslexia and "English as a second language"-isms, and my tendency to mumble and generalize, it's quite a working relationship. Neither one of us could stand the thought of firing the other, though, so it would seem we are both in luck.
Well... seeing as I've just procrastinated myself out of ten minutes, when I should have been showering and prepping to storyboard an intro, I should get on with the business of tonight's reality. There's this animator I use when I need something done in Flash, and he's very particular. Also, I have realized that we butt heads a lot when we collaborate, and that we probably sound a lot like Lucy and Ricky hollering at each other about ridiculous misunderstandings and that we are both suddenly incredibly indignant in the face of each others' constructive criticism. p.s. I'm talking about Frank. Between his dyslexia and "English as a second language"-isms, and my tendency to mumble and generalize, it's quite a working relationship. Neither one of us could stand the thought of firing the other, though, so it would seem we are both in luck.
Sweatpants are not the least bit handsome.
It may come as a shock to find out that there are several things in this world that do not please me. Sweatpants, for instance. Intolerable. I don't even own any. And don't get me started on toothpaste. It's either Crest Cinnamon Rush gel, Tom's of Maine Anise paste, or I'm going bare bristles. Mouthwash flavor, for whatever reason, is a non-issue as long as it's not too sweet.
Anyway, the bee in my bonnet tonight has to do with the mixing of lunch meat and cheese. More specifically, the bologna being wrapped up in the same package as the provolone. I've never before seen such a thing, but there it was. My only guess as to how this could happen is that the person behind the deli counter saw fit to pack the items according to size and shape, rather than allow a little thing like taste get in the way of efficiency. It's really the provolone that suffers here, because bologna (being so obviously disgusting in flavor and texture) has absolutely no manners. Long story short, I could only choke down one piece of provie before switching my snack to peach yogurt with granola.
Anyway, the bee in my bonnet tonight has to do with the mixing of lunch meat and cheese. More specifically, the bologna being wrapped up in the same package as the provolone. I've never before seen such a thing, but there it was. My only guess as to how this could happen is that the person behind the deli counter saw fit to pack the items according to size and shape, rather than allow a little thing like taste get in the way of efficiency. It's really the provolone that suffers here, because bologna (being so obviously disgusting in flavor and texture) has absolutely no manners. Long story short, I could only choke down one piece of provie before switching my snack to peach yogurt with granola.
Sunday, June 7
Smart Sunday
This morning began with a wake-up call from my daughter at 6:30. She and I got up and read some books, talked, and cuddled. Once the boys were awake, husband turned on the Iron Maiden documentary we recorded last night. Flight 666, I believe it's called. Very entertaining, and chock full of things children should know about life on the road. Here are some highlights, among them a couple of things I did not know:
1. Vocalist Bruce Dickinson is also a pilot. The tour plane he flies in the movie is a Boeing 757, refitted to carry Maiden, its crew, and all the equipment. Impressive.
2. Husband can spot Metallica's Rob Trujillo from a mile away. I don't know if it's the hair or just a Peruvian thing, but I argued a sighting in this documentary and was later proven wrong. Score one for the man.
3. (Nico's favorite part) Metal fans in Mumbai take the choo choo to get to the concert.
And that was just the first hour. Woo. We had brunch on the patio, then helped Mom and Herb do some work in the yard. While digging up earthworms to transfer to the herb garden, I got Herb (who was digging up some pretty tough maple roots) to shout a few curses in German for my amusement. He even taught me how to say "God damn it" in Bavarian. After the babes had a good swim around the kiddie pool, they went down for naps and husband and I had a good heart to heart/pep talk about the current state of affairs. I'll not bore you with the details, but I will tell you that in 11 days we will have been together for 10 years. Right now we are facing challenges, but luckily we are both of the attitude that a great many things in life are more important than the circle of greed, and that life is essentially what you make of it.
Right now we're watching the end of this morning's educational film, and having a pre-dinner buffet of fresh guacamole with tomatoes, tortilla chips, red grapes, and mango slices. Rainbow of deliciousness.
1. Vocalist Bruce Dickinson is also a pilot. The tour plane he flies in the movie is a Boeing 757, refitted to carry Maiden, its crew, and all the equipment. Impressive.
2. Husband can spot Metallica's Rob Trujillo from a mile away. I don't know if it's the hair or just a Peruvian thing, but I argued a sighting in this documentary and was later proven wrong. Score one for the man.
3. (Nico's favorite part) Metal fans in Mumbai take the choo choo to get to the concert.
And that was just the first hour. Woo. We had brunch on the patio, then helped Mom and Herb do some work in the yard. While digging up earthworms to transfer to the herb garden, I got Herb (who was digging up some pretty tough maple roots) to shout a few curses in German for my amusement. He even taught me how to say "God damn it" in Bavarian. After the babes had a good swim around the kiddie pool, they went down for naps and husband and I had a good heart to heart/pep talk about the current state of affairs. I'll not bore you with the details, but I will tell you that in 11 days we will have been together for 10 years. Right now we are facing challenges, but luckily we are both of the attitude that a great many things in life are more important than the circle of greed, and that life is essentially what you make of it.
Right now we're watching the end of this morning's educational film, and having a pre-dinner buffet of fresh guacamole with tomatoes, tortilla chips, red grapes, and mango slices. Rainbow of deliciousness.
Saturday, June 6
Flake, and pouts
Okay, so I obviously flaked out on the Memorial Day photo blogger challenge. But here's something... the other day I noticed an accidental photo theme in my collection. Please see below for a small sampling.
As for today, it's been good so far. Took the kids for a long walk around the 'hood. Made sure everyone was fed and happy, then excused myself for some 'me' time. Shower, hair, clothes. Pleasant day. A client was supposed to relay some information yesterday morning, but seeing as he had a few pesky phone calls to make before I would get said information, I'm not surprised my phone has been silent. I'll probably spend the rest of the afternoon reading and knitting and pushing the parenting joy in Husband's direction since I've got all the joy I can handle right now, and I like to share. I'm generous like that.
Slide show was unsatisfactory. Hope you love the pics instead.
As for today, it's been good so far. Took the kids for a long walk around the 'hood. Made sure everyone was fed and happy, then excused myself for some 'me' time. Shower, hair, clothes. Pleasant day. A client was supposed to relay some information yesterday morning, but seeing as he had a few pesky phone calls to make before I would get said information, I'm not surprised my phone has been silent. I'll probably spend the rest of the afternoon reading and knitting and pushing the parenting joy in Husband's direction since I've got all the joy I can handle right now, and I like to share. I'm generous like that.
Slide show was unsatisfactory. Hope you love the pics instead.
Tuesday, June 2
A word on what's down below... and more!
First of all, gutter minds, I'm talking about the post directly below this one. I just want to let you know a little of what is going on with me, and sometimes there are things I'm not completely jazzed about. Hopefully you won't all think I've become, I don't know... surly. Seems I haven't been sharing too much lately, probably for fear of... I don't know... sharing too much, I guess.
* Late note: Thanks for the heart hugs, everyone. I really needed a break from putting on the happy face. You all know I'm really happy to have some freelance work lately. Everything that helps balance the checkbook helps. Big time. Sometimes I ignore things, and sometimes all I can think about are the bank accounts and how much I miss those old paychecks that came like clockwork. I've been trying to focus on the positive. I've also asked my dear husband to try and see if he can eat paper and poop money. Really, I don't care where it comes from. Basically, money is all crap anyway. *
* Late note: Thanks for the heart hugs, everyone. I really needed a break from putting on the happy face. You all know I'm really happy to have some freelance work lately. Everything that helps balance the checkbook helps. Big time. Sometimes I ignore things, and sometimes all I can think about are the bank accounts and how much I miss those old paychecks that came like clockwork. I've been trying to focus on the positive. I've also asked my dear husband to try and see if he can eat paper and poop money. Really, I don't care where it comes from. Basically, money is all crap anyway. *
Prepare, for I am about to use swear words. Just 'cause I can.
So... putting things in perspective. Some shit matters, and some shit doesn't. It's not that hard to distinguish between the two. I am pretty sure I don't mention the unemployment junk that often on here, so forgive me this blabber because it's really on my mind. I don't think anyone really anticipates being in this situation. **Quick side note: Yes, we do have a tenant in our condo, but in a shitty economy -- guess what -- rent prices drop, and you might have to make up a little of the difference. Renting out your place doesn't let you off the financial hook. Such is life in today's America.** Being laid off always sounded like some kind of picnic. Well guess what. It's not. Take your monthly household income and cut it into quarters. Then hold one of the quarters in your hand. Now shave a little off the side. About a fifth of the chunk. Now take what's left and use it to pay all your bills for the month. Fun, right? I hope none of you ever have to try it, because it blows. Actually, it doesn't even blow, because if it did blow, then that might at least be a little side cash for paying the association dues on the condo. Fuck!
So... there's a glimpse into the cranky fraction of my thoughts. Now here is the diamond in the rough. Every day, at least for now while the economy is biting ass, I get to have my little family together. We wake up together and have breakfast. Then Frank goes to work on his projects and check around for new jobs. The kids and I go ahead with our day. At lunch and dinner, Frank cooks for us. He takes breaks now and then to help with the kids (believe it or not, those little monkeys get tired of me). If he's really busy or on a phone call, we might get snapped at for being too loud. But mostly, it's just the four of us together, hurdling through time and space to our next destination. It's a beautiful thing.
Does it matter to me that we're in a cash crunch, and that I have to juggle the bills, and that we really can't (read: cannot, as in, not at all possible) have the lifestyle to which we had grown accustomed? Yes, and no. Like I said before, some shit matters, and some shit doesn't. I will choose my husband over new shoes any day of the week. Yes, even Jimmy Choos. I can't wear that high heel bullshit anymore anyway. Nothing will ever beat lunch hour with the Riveras in the spring of 2009 -- home cooked meals, cold beer for me and Frank (and Mom and Herb, too, on the weekends), watermelon for the kids, and soccer on tv.
So... there's a glimpse into the cranky fraction of my thoughts. Now here is the diamond in the rough. Every day, at least for now while the economy is biting ass, I get to have my little family together. We wake up together and have breakfast. Then Frank goes to work on his projects and check around for new jobs. The kids and I go ahead with our day. At lunch and dinner, Frank cooks for us. He takes breaks now and then to help with the kids (believe it or not, those little monkeys get tired of me). If he's really busy or on a phone call, we might get snapped at for being too loud. But mostly, it's just the four of us together, hurdling through time and space to our next destination. It's a beautiful thing.
Does it matter to me that we're in a cash crunch, and that I have to juggle the bills, and that we really can't (read: cannot, as in, not at all possible) have the lifestyle to which we had grown accustomed? Yes, and no. Like I said before, some shit matters, and some shit doesn't. I will choose my husband over new shoes any day of the week. Yes, even Jimmy Choos. I can't wear that high heel bullshit anymore anyway. Nothing will ever beat lunch hour with the Riveras in the spring of 2009 -- home cooked meals, cold beer for me and Frank (and Mom and Herb, too, on the weekends), watermelon for the kids, and soccer on tv.
Thursday, May 28
Oh!
I don't know, it seems I have been ignoring my blog. I was working, then I was doing something you have to do when you're a commercial artist, which is to do work you won't get paid for so that you can win more work. And... success! With Husband's assistance, I will be doing the website for my new client's restaurant.
Among other exciting happenings, Jen and I have begun reading Jane Austen books. The really cool thing is that a few of my other beloveds are joining in, and that is at once unexpected and fabulous. Tonight I started in on Pride and Prejudice, and I am feeling English to the max. Frank came out into the living room where I am reading and said that we should try to go to sleep at a decent time tonight. As an answer, I read one paragraph of the book to him (in a snooty voice) and he said, "Okay, see you later." I said, "Great, I'll be reading!" It's alright. He gets it.
Among other exciting happenings, Jen and I have begun reading Jane Austen books. The really cool thing is that a few of my other beloveds are joining in, and that is at once unexpected and fabulous. Tonight I started in on Pride and Prejudice, and I am feeling English to the max. Frank came out into the living room where I am reading and said that we should try to go to sleep at a decent time tonight. As an answer, I read one paragraph of the book to him (in a snooty voice) and he said, "Okay, see you later." I said, "Great, I'll be reading!" It's alright. He gets it.
Sunday, May 24
Jon and Kate Plus Hate, and the answer to both questions is NO.
Questions regarding Jon and Kate Plus Eight, the show I can watch for 30 seconds before I get nauseous and/or extremely irritated and have to change the channel:
1. Can Kate possibly be any more of a ball breaker?
2. Could her haircut be any stupider?
1. Can Kate possibly be any more of a ball breaker?
2. Could her haircut be any stupider?
Friday, May 22
Um hum
Hi. It's me. There has been design work happening. As many of you know, when I do freelance it's often at the expense of sleep. I spend the day caring for my kids and then I work after they go to bed. And that's fine, it's just how I do.
Husband and I have been going out a lot lately. Movies, seeing friends, even going to a restaurant opening last weekend. We're picking a date to go away for a night, alone. Lately, whenever possible, I have been going to sleep a little early. It's not like me. I must be tired.
So it turns out this is Memorial Day Weekend, right? I did not know this until yesterday. I am too busy doing things to notice the date, evidently.
Husband and I have been going out a lot lately. Movies, seeing friends, even going to a restaurant opening last weekend. We're picking a date to go away for a night, alone. Lately, whenever possible, I have been going to sleep a little early. It's not like me. I must be tired.
So it turns out this is Memorial Day Weekend, right? I did not know this until yesterday. I am too busy doing things to notice the date, evidently.
Friday, May 15
Happy Friday
Hey everybody. I have Pandora on and my Radiohead Radio is playing a ton of Beatles today. Right now Strawberry Fields Forever is on, and it just hit me that this song reminds me of my brother and sister. If you two are reading, it also played I Want You, so I thought of you guys and Peter Frampton (and pretty much the rest of Bee Gees Sergeant Pepper's). It has also just hit me that I have had a secret celebrity crush on Steve Martin for as far back as I can remember. Other than that, just wanna say have a great weekend.
Wednesday, May 13
Thoughts on the day
A little post to clear out the old braineroo. I am working on freelance, which I love. Getting things done. A lot, actually. It's a job for a friend opening a restaurant and lounge in Northern Liberties. I'm also helping with hookups for printing the staff's shirts, the business cards, and we're going to be doing the website. Really an unexpected series of jobs, but I am enjoying the work buzz. Hopefully there will also be some free food involved at some point. Woo.
Last night my husby and I went to see Star Trek. Thoroughly enjoyed it, not only for the onslaught of nerdy hotness, but also because it really was a good movie and one of those films that is way better if you see it in the theatre.
Lastly, a note on domesticity. As much as I love an urban life, it's increasingly more difficult for me to ignore the fact that I have two toddlers who love to play outside. In a yard. With green grass. And sticks, and dirt, and trees. Living near a park isn't the same as having a yard. It's a challenge to find a new place to live, and when you have kids there's more to consider. Not impossible, not even really that much harder than before. It's just like most things when you have kids. Just... different.
Last night my husby and I went to see Star Trek. Thoroughly enjoyed it, not only for the onslaught of nerdy hotness, but also because it really was a good movie and one of those films that is way better if you see it in the theatre.
Lastly, a note on domesticity. As much as I love an urban life, it's increasingly more difficult for me to ignore the fact that I have two toddlers who love to play outside. In a yard. With green grass. And sticks, and dirt, and trees. Living near a park isn't the same as having a yard. It's a challenge to find a new place to live, and when you have kids there's more to consider. Not impossible, not even really that much harder than before. It's just like most things when you have kids. Just... different.
Friday, May 8
Dia de la Madre
So this will be my third Mother's Day as an actual mother. Tomorrow my sister, niece and bro-in-law are coming over, and we're planning some delicious grilling and maybe even some cocktail chilling. Then Sunday my brother and his girlfriend and coming over for brunch. Nice weekend. Yay.
Have a great one, everybody. And be extra nice to your Moms. That woman did a lot for you.
Have a great one, everybody. And be extra nice to your Moms. That woman did a lot for you.
Wednesday, May 6
STM
I have bad short term memory. It's, like, worse than goldfish memory. Zero. Wasn't always this way, but it is now so I just do my best. So... I do not remember if I told everyone these things:
1. I bought Nico his first boy boy underpants. The choo-choo Thomas ones, of course. I was wrong to fear the potty training. It's really not that bad.
2. Ridiculous. I'm blanking out on what else I wanted to tell you.
3. Oh! I have unloaded and packed away my diaper bag. I really don't need it any more. I'm just packing a diaper stash and extra outfits to keep in the car (just in case of a mishap -- see item #1).
4. I should stop goofing off and get my work on.
5. That is all.
1. I bought Nico his first boy boy underpants. The choo-choo Thomas ones, of course. I was wrong to fear the potty training. It's really not that bad.
2. Ridiculous. I'm blanking out on what else I wanted to tell you.
3. Oh! I have unloaded and packed away my diaper bag. I really don't need it any more. I'm just packing a diaper stash and extra outfits to keep in the car (just in case of a mishap -- see item #1).
4. I should stop goofing off and get my work on.
5. That is all.
Tuesday, May 5
Work and chore
As is so often the case with designing, I swore off work and then someone offered me some work and then I said, "Yes!" to doing the work. I am not sure whether you could call me a sucker for graphic design, or a sucker for money. Probably a little of both.
The next half hour or so will be devoted to finishing my drink, bobby pinning my bangs back in a semi-nerdy fashion, and flipping channels. Then I'll crack down and work, and intermittently re-clothe the bed in its freshly washed linens.
The next half hour or so will be devoted to finishing my drink, bobby pinning my bangs back in a semi-nerdy fashion, and flipping channels. Then I'll crack down and work, and intermittently re-clothe the bed in its freshly washed linens.
Monday, May 4
Working
Tonight I'm finishing up a few logo options for a friend's restaurant. I just found out about the job on Thursday, and since my time is limited during the day (even though Frank helped with the kids and let me get a lot done this afternoon) it takes a late night here and there to really tie things down. I'm waiting for him to finish with one part he's helping with, which is some illustration... he's just so much faster at it, so I did some sketches and he's kind enough to turn it into real art, real fast.
While I sit here waiting, I'm doing a few things. One, deleting my Twitter account. I wish I had the time to keep up the way the tweet gods intended, but I just don't. Two, paring down on my other social media readings by focusing only on the people about whom I really care. Hint: it's none of you, my darlings. Three, just thinking about life in general. The job hunt is... bleak. I mean, it's... horrible. There have always been at least a few jobs I don't really like that would be suitable, but right now I can't even find anything I don't want (if that makes any sense). As if to send me a sign, the kids have really been blowing me away with their cute loveyness. I slept in this morning -- don't be jealous, I was still up before 9am -- and when I came out into the living room the kids attacked, nay, trampled me with hugs and fought for my attention. Daddy who? Ha! How can I purposely give that up? Guess for now I'm sticking with the night shift on the art tip. At least I get to stay up late, and in the morning I can look like hell and nobody will care when I take my fourth coffee break.
While I sit here waiting, I'm doing a few things. One, deleting my Twitter account. I wish I had the time to keep up the way the tweet gods intended, but I just don't. Two, paring down on my other social media readings by focusing only on the people about whom I really care. Hint: it's none of you, my darlings. Three, just thinking about life in general. The job hunt is... bleak. I mean, it's... horrible. There have always been at least a few jobs I don't really like that would be suitable, but right now I can't even find anything I don't want (if that makes any sense). As if to send me a sign, the kids have really been blowing me away with their cute loveyness. I slept in this morning -- don't be jealous, I was still up before 9am -- and when I came out into the living room the kids attacked, nay, trampled me with hugs and fought for my attention. Daddy who? Ha! How can I purposely give that up? Guess for now I'm sticking with the night shift on the art tip. At least I get to stay up late, and in the morning I can look like hell and nobody will care when I take my fourth coffee break.
Friday, May 1
When my friend William was five years old, he wanted a doll to hug and hold
Leave it to Jen to buy Olivia her first baby doll. I confess, I don't think about these things. Maybe it's because I had a boy first, or I'm just not programmed with the proper software necessary for choosing the best hair bows. Needless to say, Livi is crazy about the dolly. And so is Nico. They both hold it gently, pat its back, and kiss it on the cheek. This morning when my friend Lauren dropped off her (adorable!) daughter to spend the day with us, the kids automatically included the baby in just about everything they were doing. See the toys? See Wonder Pets? Hear the music? Can I hug you? Again? So cute. Even though they're obviously not allowed to hold the real baby, it's nice to know they notice and they care.
Right now Olivia is taking a nap and I'm playing Free to Be You and Me for Miss S. She doesn't seem to mind my singing, and I'm taking that as a compliment. Maybe my clapping along is enough distraction from the fact that I'm all but tone deaf. Again, I'll take it.
* Alan Alda & Marlo Thomas, William's Doll. When Nico was an infant, we would listen to this song on the way to day care. I would cry at the end. Yes. This song makes me cry. I can't believe I just confessed to that, but it's true.
Right now Olivia is taking a nap and I'm playing Free to Be You and Me for Miss S. She doesn't seem to mind my singing, and I'm taking that as a compliment. Maybe my clapping along is enough distraction from the fact that I'm all but tone deaf. Again, I'll take it.
* Alan Alda & Marlo Thomas, William's Doll. When Nico was an infant, we would listen to this song on the way to day care. I would cry at the end. Yes. This song makes me cry. I can't believe I just confessed to that, but it's true.
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