I'm watching some bedtime Star Trek (the original series). There are nights when I put on episodes I've never seen before, but this time I'm going with an old favorite. Balance of Terror. Arguably one of the best in the show's three-season run. Ahh, young Shatner. And I had a girlhood crush on young Leonard Nimoy. And no, I'm not embarrassed.
Tonight I wish I could snuggle with my husband, who is 3,000+ miles away. It's my not-so-secret wish that he will show up at the front door. It would be the most pleasant surprise ever. Right now I'm so tired but don't want to shut my eyes. I want Frank lying next to me, pretending he's too tired to scratch my back, then stroking my hair until I fall asleep. Sometimes when he does scratch my back, he'll do it for about thirty seconds before he gets distracted or bored, at which point he calls a 'commercial break' and reaches for the remote or picks up a book or does something else to let me know my favor time is over. It's fine, though, because I secretly prefer the stroking of the hair. Actually, there's other stuff I prefer over that, but that none of your beeswax!
Tomorrow we've got a rockin' playdate planned. I'm debating getting my shower tonight. The eternal dilemma. Do I shower tonight and get it over with, or wait until morning and risk getting into a time crunch? It's 12:45 a.m. and I still don't have an answer. Typical. I hate going to bed. Isn't there a magical pill that could solve this? There's a pill for everything else, it seems. If a little tablet can accidentally give a guy a boner for four hours, then why not purposely invent one that allows you to cram a full night's rest into three?
Let me go think on that one. Better yet, let me brush my teeth and watch more of my show. I might start it again from the beginning, so that I can see my favorite parts and then drift off to the sights and sounds of grown men and women acting out space drama in outrageously cool costumes.
Tuesday, March 9
Thursday, March 4
Pandora, what's your prob?
I'm having one of those nights where Pandora is completely wasting my time. Enough with the "two-man duo" bullshit, okay? Snooze.
Comfy pants, book. Will be playing The Ecstatic (Mighty Mos) on low.
Oh, let me mention this before I go. I had a fabulous lunch with my friend Lauren this afternoon. By the time we got the check, we were laughing so hard that I had to dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn't half way down my face. Comparing notes with other parents is so refreshing. Now I don't feel so bad for being furious at Livi for that split second after she kicks me in the sternum while I'm changing her diaper. Maybe I shouldn't have watched so much kung-fu while I was pregnant. Livi's ability to absorb Bruce moves is not to be underestimated. Feet of Fury and whatnot.
Ok. Now, really, comfies/book/Mos.
Comfy pants, book. Will be playing The Ecstatic (Mighty Mos) on low.
Oh, let me mention this before I go. I had a fabulous lunch with my friend Lauren this afternoon. By the time we got the check, we were laughing so hard that I had to dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn't half way down my face. Comparing notes with other parents is so refreshing. Now I don't feel so bad for being furious at Livi for that split second after she kicks me in the sternum while I'm changing her diaper. Maybe I shouldn't have watched so much kung-fu while I was pregnant. Livi's ability to absorb Bruce moves is not to be underestimated. Feet of Fury and whatnot.
Ok. Now, really, comfies/book/Mos.
Wednesday, March 3
King is bringin' it
Shit, I wish I could write something. I know why I can't. I can't put two real thoughts together lately. Not to sound weird, but Peru changed me. I'm a little freaked out, a little amazed, and a little proud. I want to say thanks to Toni, whose recent blog comments have helped me put words to all the feelings. I just feel like a different person. I feel like I just plain feel more. It's deep, deep shit, man. Deeeep.
In more tangible news, I'm engrossed in Stephen King's Duma Key. Again, weird. I'm not really one for the scary stuff. At least not last time I checked. Hell, maybe it's my new nightly job of chasing scary things out of the kids' room that's got me feeling so bold. Here's what we do. The kids are in their beds, all tucked just right, and Livi says, "Mommy. I scare. Monsters." I stop patting Nico's back, then stand up and say, "All you monsters and dragons and ghosts and trains and engines, go... a... way!" As I'm saying that last part, I swish my arms out in front of myself like I'm snapping a bed sheet. Wa-BAM! Beat it, monsters. The kids congratulate my efforts, and now everyone can sleep.
Except me. I'm off to read some fright and drink my special herbal tea blend. Hot lemon tea, lemon slice, tablespoon of honey, and 2oz. of Southern Comfort. Sleep tight.
In more tangible news, I'm engrossed in Stephen King's Duma Key. Again, weird. I'm not really one for the scary stuff. At least not last time I checked. Hell, maybe it's my new nightly job of chasing scary things out of the kids' room that's got me feeling so bold. Here's what we do. The kids are in their beds, all tucked just right, and Livi says, "Mommy. I scare. Monsters." I stop patting Nico's back, then stand up and say, "All you monsters and dragons and ghosts and trains and engines, go... a... way!" As I'm saying that last part, I swish my arms out in front of myself like I'm snapping a bed sheet. Wa-BAM! Beat it, monsters. The kids congratulate my efforts, and now everyone can sleep.
Except me. I'm off to read some fright and drink my special herbal tea blend. Hot lemon tea, lemon slice, tablespoon of honey, and 2oz. of Southern Comfort. Sleep tight.
Thursday, February 18
Adjustment
I'm going to start writing poetry about the United States and all it has to offer. That's right. Poetry. I missed this place with all my heart. Peru, I like. New Jersey, I love. When I walked into my mom's house the other day, it was just... home. I went from room to room gushing to myself. *Oh!* Dishwasher. Sanitized sippy cups. *Oh!* Large capacity washer and dryer, both with delicate cycle. *Oh! Oh!* Everything. Drywall. Bath tub. Furniture. Warmth. And then after a few hours, I got to sifting through some mail and papers I had left in the dresser. And some of the less pleasant things I'd left behind began to stack up in my mind. The shitty economy. How much everything costs here. Joblessness. Commercialism. Uncertainty.
I've been trying to focus all day. Yesterday I started to go through what can best be described as emotional let-down. I was so amped for days before the trip. Tensed up by the thought of a midnight flight alone with two toddlers. Anxious about the three of us being apart from my husband. And then, at the airport, a delayed flight. Problems with Immigration. Having our passports confiscated. Explaining (in Spanish, mind you) that I had gone to Immigration in downtown Lima four months ago, shown them -- three times -- the exact same papers and been told I was legal for six months.
Getting formally reprimanded by three separate officials. "No. No, no, no." That part translates pretty clearly. Ha. Being pointed in the direction of the MAC machine and being told that I had better return with the appropriate amount of cash, and being warned not to try to get on the airplane without paying. "Remember, I have your passports. If you try to leave, you won't get them back." What the... what?! Remembering that, shit, I had no cell phone if I needed Frank. It was, hands down, the most stressful time I've ever had getting on an airplane. And I've flown, people. I've flown plenty.
Obviously we made it home, blue passports in hand, with a few extra gray hairs on my head. I have missed my family, and home, and I still miss my friends since I'm spending the first week of the visit with my mom. I'm also doing things like *oh!* getting my hair done and driving a car for the first time since August. This morning I had to go down the hall away from the kids and my mom to let loose with some tears. It was just total decompression, and it hurt and felt good at the same time. Life in Peru is not easy. Life in the U.S. is not simple. But I love being here, and I want all of it. I'm cramming it all in, bit by bit, one whole wheat cheddar cheese Goldfish cracker at a time.
I've been trying to focus all day. Yesterday I started to go through what can best be described as emotional let-down. I was so amped for days before the trip. Tensed up by the thought of a midnight flight alone with two toddlers. Anxious about the three of us being apart from my husband. And then, at the airport, a delayed flight. Problems with Immigration. Having our passports confiscated. Explaining (in Spanish, mind you) that I had gone to Immigration in downtown Lima four months ago, shown them -- three times -- the exact same papers and been told I was legal for six months.
Getting formally reprimanded by three separate officials. "No. No, no, no." That part translates pretty clearly. Ha. Being pointed in the direction of the MAC machine and being told that I had better return with the appropriate amount of cash, and being warned not to try to get on the airplane without paying. "Remember, I have your passports. If you try to leave, you won't get them back." What the... what?! Remembering that, shit, I had no cell phone if I needed Frank. It was, hands down, the most stressful time I've ever had getting on an airplane. And I've flown, people. I've flown plenty.
Obviously we made it home, blue passports in hand, with a few extra gray hairs on my head. I have missed my family, and home, and I still miss my friends since I'm spending the first week of the visit with my mom. I'm also doing things like *oh!* getting my hair done and driving a car for the first time since August. This morning I had to go down the hall away from the kids and my mom to let loose with some tears. It was just total decompression, and it hurt and felt good at the same time. Life in Peru is not easy. Life in the U.S. is not simple. But I love being here, and I want all of it. I'm cramming it all in, bit by bit, one whole wheat cheddar cheese Goldfish cracker at a time.
Tuesday, February 16
Wassup?
I'M HOME, BITCHES!
That's right, the kids and I are visiting. We don't have a return flight yet, but we'll be in fantastical New Jersey until at least St. Patrick's Day. Frank is busy at work, like, super busy. And since we're transitioning our apartment to an office space, Husband is going to find another home space for us while we're out of town. So much is happening in Lima. Not only with the studio, but just inside my head in general. Living in Peru has brought out so many things I would never have realized about myself... about life... about people... about how to live and love and be satisfied and help people... it has been an amazing experience so far. It's hard to put it all into words. Maybe it will help if I show you this -- it's part of my answer to the question Frank asked me a few nights ago at our super special husband-and-wife rooftop party...
"So, Señorita O'Toole, what have we learned about Peru?"
1. Wear socks. All the time. Or at least flip flops when it's warm. And just to be safe, have a scarf for all seasons.
2. Keep a warm blanket on your bed for when the fog rolls in around 3am.
3. Shoo the cockroaches. Kill the mosquitoes. Ignore the ants.
4. It's okay to drive in between the lanes of traffic, as long as you keep honking to let people know you're there.
5. Floors (which are mostly tile, marble, or hardwood) should be mopped several times a week, but will be dirty again an hour later due to the dusty, dirt-y desert climate. Additionally, the dirt will find its way through the bottom of the socks you should be wearing at all times. If your floors are dirt or concrete, forget the cleaning and just wear shoes.
6. Nobody cares how many days in a row you wear the same clothes, but change them as soon as they get wrinkled or stained.
7. Anything labeled "sin perfuma" (unfragranced) will inevitably smell like flowers. This holds true for everything from household cleaners to body lotion to feminine hygiene products.
8. Almost nobody uses tampons. No lie, the ladies' section at the supermarket stocks pads and tampons at a 50:1 ratio.
9. In matters of beer, choose Cuzqueña over Cristal. And don't forget your empties when you go to buy.
10. Sweet wine is gross. That one's universal, but especially true in Peru.
11. Don't eat chicharron (savory fried pork) at night, and don't eat ceviche at a restaurant where you can't see the ocean.
12. Know the exchange rate and check all your bills (just like here, hold them up to the light).
13. If you're an hour late, you're still on time.
14. Don't expect hot tap water. Furthermore, don't expect hot water in the shower.
15. Expect seven kinds of red tape, in varying shades, when you try to resolve any kind of official matter or file any kind of paperwork.
16. There are several places on every block that sell bootlegs of all the latest theatrical releases from across the globe, and the quality is excellent. At the beginning of every bootleg DVD, there is a high-budget anti-piracy commercial.
17. My name is Karen Rivera O'Toole. Pronounced Kah-den Rre-beh-dah Oh-tuhl.
18. Polite pushiness is the way to get things done. Flattery helps, especially when delivered in baby talk.
19. Adhere strictly to the rules of the Peruvian drinking circle: pour a small amount into the community glass (fill it about 1/4 of the way), pass the bottle to the next person, drink your share in a timely manner, pass the glass, make fun of anyone who deserves it, and don't you dare wipe the rim of the glass or yawn while someone else is talking. I made the mistake of being super tired during a drinking circle and yawned during one of Frank's stories; I was promptly ripped to shreds by the other attendees. Lovingly, of course, but still.
20. Only stress yourself out if you really feel like it. Nothing is more important than your family (or people in general, for that matter) and nobody will fault you for being carefree. Mostly because nobody wants to hear your complaints. The End.
That's right, the kids and I are visiting. We don't have a return flight yet, but we'll be in fantastical New Jersey until at least St. Patrick's Day. Frank is busy at work, like, super busy. And since we're transitioning our apartment to an office space, Husband is going to find another home space for us while we're out of town. So much is happening in Lima. Not only with the studio, but just inside my head in general. Living in Peru has brought out so many things I would never have realized about myself... about life... about people... about how to live and love and be satisfied and help people... it has been an amazing experience so far. It's hard to put it all into words. Maybe it will help if I show you this -- it's part of my answer to the question Frank asked me a few nights ago at our super special husband-and-wife rooftop party...
"So, Señorita O'Toole, what have we learned about Peru?"
1. Wear socks. All the time. Or at least flip flops when it's warm. And just to be safe, have a scarf for all seasons.
2. Keep a warm blanket on your bed for when the fog rolls in around 3am.
3. Shoo the cockroaches. Kill the mosquitoes. Ignore the ants.
4. It's okay to drive in between the lanes of traffic, as long as you keep honking to let people know you're there.
5. Floors (which are mostly tile, marble, or hardwood) should be mopped several times a week, but will be dirty again an hour later due to the dusty, dirt-y desert climate. Additionally, the dirt will find its way through the bottom of the socks you should be wearing at all times. If your floors are dirt or concrete, forget the cleaning and just wear shoes.
6. Nobody cares how many days in a row you wear the same clothes, but change them as soon as they get wrinkled or stained.
7. Anything labeled "sin perfuma" (unfragranced) will inevitably smell like flowers. This holds true for everything from household cleaners to body lotion to feminine hygiene products.
8. Almost nobody uses tampons. No lie, the ladies' section at the supermarket stocks pads and tampons at a 50:1 ratio.
9. In matters of beer, choose Cuzqueña over Cristal. And don't forget your empties when you go to buy.
10. Sweet wine is gross. That one's universal, but especially true in Peru.
11. Don't eat chicharron (savory fried pork) at night, and don't eat ceviche at a restaurant where you can't see the ocean.
12. Know the exchange rate and check all your bills (just like here, hold them up to the light).
13. If you're an hour late, you're still on time.
14. Don't expect hot tap water. Furthermore, don't expect hot water in the shower.
15. Expect seven kinds of red tape, in varying shades, when you try to resolve any kind of official matter or file any kind of paperwork.
16. There are several places on every block that sell bootlegs of all the latest theatrical releases from across the globe, and the quality is excellent. At the beginning of every bootleg DVD, there is a high-budget anti-piracy commercial.
17. My name is Karen Rivera O'Toole. Pronounced Kah-den Rre-beh-dah Oh-tuhl.
18. Polite pushiness is the way to get things done. Flattery helps, especially when delivered in baby talk.
19. Adhere strictly to the rules of the Peruvian drinking circle: pour a small amount into the community glass (fill it about 1/4 of the way), pass the bottle to the next person, drink your share in a timely manner, pass the glass, make fun of anyone who deserves it, and don't you dare wipe the rim of the glass or yawn while someone else is talking. I made the mistake of being super tired during a drinking circle and yawned during one of Frank's stories; I was promptly ripped to shreds by the other attendees. Lovingly, of course, but still.
20. Only stress yourself out if you really feel like it. Nothing is more important than your family (or people in general, for that matter) and nobody will fault you for being carefree. Mostly because nobody wants to hear your complaints. The End.
Saturday, February 6
Talkin' shite
Actual dialog from this morning:
Nico: Sissy, are you okay?
Livi: Poop.
Nico: Sissy, how are you, okay, Sissy?
Livi: Poopies.
Nico: Mom, Sissy's speaking Spanish again.
Nico: Sissy, are you okay?
Livi: Poop.
Nico: Sissy, how are you, okay, Sissy?
Livi: Poopies.
Nico: Mom, Sissy's speaking Spanish again.
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