It must be winter in Sacramento. I don't have much to say, but I do like to update periodically. So I fully intend to blather on while saying nothing of substance. Enjoy.
I made polenta tonight with organic corn meal from our CSA. It was sort of lavender-colored, which I thought was cool.
We keep getting cool stuff delivered! Today, my necklaces (and several totally awesome gifts for the baby) arrived from my friend Des, a package with three really cool books arrived from a friend from my online forum (who incidentally lives in Minnesota, yet we went to high school together -- small world, huh?), and my aunt who was sick on the day of the shower sent a TON of stuff from my registry!
Mom has been busting her ass helping me get ready. "Helping" isn't even a good word for it, because that would indicate I've done anything, which I haven't. She got the nesting instinct -- I got the "damn, I'm tired." You know I'm getting hormonal and goofy though when I open the closet, see a diaper stacker with diapers all ready to go and think "Awwww."
We still haven't settled on a middle name. One of my goals is to assemble all the names we talked about into a list, then narrow it down so hopefully we can come up with something. It seems so serious... I mean, her first name was more so, but now that I know it, it's set. It's perfect. But this is like, something we have to decide, that's going to be with her the rest of her life... Ugh. I'll tell you when we've got something.
I did have a temporary freak-out yesterday. Usually she does a gymnastic routine right before bed, gives me a couple good kicks in the night when I get up to go pee, then starts Pilates when I get in the shower, then rests until after breakfast, when it's apparently judo hour. Well, in the wee hours of Thursday, I woke up to go pee, she didn't kick, and all of a sudden, I couldn't remember whether she'd done her before bed routine. I stayed up for a while, poked my belly some, and got a little nudge in response. That morning, just a toe-tap before the shower. I felt a few flutters here and there, but flutters are nothing compared to the usual. I started to get nervous. I emailed the doctor. He wanted me to come in, just in case. I emailed mom and Sweetie and told them I was going in, but it was probably nothing. And then I went and bought a Snickers from the vending machine. I just thought I'd see what happened if I gave myself a sugar rush. Well, it worked. She promptly began re-enacting scenes from "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." And ever since, every hour and a half to two hours, she's been resuming her usual routine of taiko drumming, cardio-kickboxing, Jazzercize, and capoeira. But it did give me my first (I'm sure not last) opportunity to say "scared your poor mother half to death!"
Okay, I'm unreasonably sleep now, so I believe I'm going to go lay down and read.
Hope you're all well!
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
And on a happier note...
Mom has been super-duper amazing, and she has done about a billion things around here lately. She has laundered all the baby clothes, diapers, and linens. She painted the dresser for the baby's room. She took all the stuff we got out of the boxes and broke them down and took them out to the recycling. She put away all the random baby stuff on shelves. She installed the dimmer switch I bought for the baby's room. She took me to Target and Goore's yesterday and we bought all the essentials that we hadn't gotten yet.
I've been kind of nervous about the baby coming with so much left undone, but thanks to her, there's a lot less undone now.
Incidentally, her new car has 4-wheel drive, and she's going to be driving us to the hospital. I ate a fortune cookie tonight and got this fortune: "A 4-wheeled adventure will soon bring you happiness." Go ahead and scoff, but the month we got knocked up (after 14 months of trying, don't forget) I had a fortune that read "No obstacles will stand in the way of your success this month." Even if you add the "in bed" it still works...
Wiped
That is how I feel. I'm sorry to dump a big complain-a-thon at you, but it's not a good sign when you're wiped out at 7:50 am on a Monday.
I have a new friend. It's the consistency of silly putty and the diameter of a pencil. It lives in the back of my throat, stretching from somewhere in my sinus cavity to somewhere down my throat. That means that it can block both breathing AND swallowing. All night long, I'd try to breathe, hear a popping or bubbling sound, feel my airway close, and have to cough, snort, and clear my throat until I could breathe again. As you might imagine, this disrupted Sweetie's sleep as well. I got up this morning and more or less violently hairballed into the sink. (Yes, I just made "hairball" a verb.)
I wouldn't even particularly complain if I hadn't been congested for 11 straight days now. I keep hoping that if I just rest, drink water, blah blah... that I'll feel better, but alas, no.
Ah well. Sweetie's picking me up some additional Tylenol and throat drops this afternoon. I've got a long day at work (I agreed to cover someone's class on my prep), but nothing in particular to do tonight, so maybe more rest, more fluids...
I hope you're all feeling better than I am! I know I gave Mom my cold. Sorry, Mom!
I have a new friend. It's the consistency of silly putty and the diameter of a pencil. It lives in the back of my throat, stretching from somewhere in my sinus cavity to somewhere down my throat. That means that it can block both breathing AND swallowing. All night long, I'd try to breathe, hear a popping or bubbling sound, feel my airway close, and have to cough, snort, and clear my throat until I could breathe again. As you might imagine, this disrupted Sweetie's sleep as well. I got up this morning and more or less violently hairballed into the sink. (Yes, I just made "hairball" a verb.)
I wouldn't even particularly complain if I hadn't been congested for 11 straight days now. I keep hoping that if I just rest, drink water, blah blah... that I'll feel better, but alas, no.
Ah well. Sweetie's picking me up some additional Tylenol and throat drops this afternoon. I've got a long day at work (I agreed to cover someone's class on my prep), but nothing in particular to do tonight, so maybe more rest, more fluids...
I hope you're all feeling better than I am! I know I gave Mom my cold. Sorry, Mom!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I have an awesome husband.
Just thought you should know. I was at band practice, and one of the guys asked if Sweetie had been teasing me about my big pregnant girth. "Not at all, actually," I answered. "He does his best to make me feel like the delicate flower I was when we met." He even has me sit on his lap sometimes, although usually I spend the whole time checking his extremities for evidence of blood circulation.
Yesterday when I came home, there were some flowers on the mantle, and I said "those are pretty flowers." He said "Are they? Good." He had bought them for me for no reason. He bought me that soft red Australian licorice, too.
Today I was feeling nest-y, and I made him move around furniture like he was the husband in a 60s sitcom for about 20 minutes, me changing my mind and pointing and him pushing the couch around.
Then I suggested that I might want a new couch, and he said "okay" and encouraged me to look for one I liked.
Life with him is just so... easy. He improves everything.
Yesterday when I came home, there were some flowers on the mantle, and I said "those are pretty flowers." He said "Are they? Good." He had bought them for me for no reason. He bought me that soft red Australian licorice, too.
Today I was feeling nest-y, and I made him move around furniture like he was the husband in a 60s sitcom for about 20 minutes, me changing my mind and pointing and him pushing the couch around.
Then I suggested that I might want a new couch, and he said "okay" and encouraged me to look for one I liked.
Life with him is just so... easy. He improves everything.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Caution: weather may change rapidly
Sorry to post about the weather -- how boring, right? But it was wacky today. Most of the day, it was gloomy. At 2:20, I wandered outside with my class and it was sunny and warm! At 3:15, I went back to my room and it was COLD! At 3:30 or so, I took the Crock Pots I'd borrowed to the gym. While I was walking, I saw lightning. I noted it, thought about a few things, and then heard extremely loud thunder. I estimate that 8-10 seconds passed between the two, which I thought meant the storm was still 8 miles or so away. I walked into the gym storage room, put the Crock Pots away, fiddled with the door a bit to make sure it was locked, and walked back outside, only to be pelted with massive raindrops. I'm not really in running shape, and there aren't particularly any covered areas between the gym and my room, so I power-walked my enormous ass back as quickly as I could.
As I approached my room, there was a group of students huddled near the room next door. The kid who (whether he is actually gay or not) has the gay voice said loudly "It's HEEEYYYYYY-leng!" I was thinking "What the hell does that mean?" when I saw ice balls bouncing on the concrete! "Oh," I realized, "he meant HAILing." I grabbed my stuff and got in the car. It hailed all the way to the freeway, then quickly turned back into rain. But while it hailed, it was serious hail. I had slush on my hood and windshield, and it was coating the streets. By the time I got home, the sun was streaking through the clouds.
As I approached my room, there was a group of students huddled near the room next door. The kid who (whether he is actually gay or not) has the gay voice said loudly "It's HEEEYYYYYY-leng!" I was thinking "What the hell does that mean?" when I saw ice balls bouncing on the concrete! "Oh," I realized, "he meant HAILing." I grabbed my stuff and got in the car. It hailed all the way to the freeway, then quickly turned back into rain. But while it hailed, it was serious hail. I had slush on my hood and windshield, and it was coating the streets. By the time I got home, the sun was streaking through the clouds.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
36 weeks!
Dude, if you don't want to know about internal, baby-related pregnancy stuff, first of all, today is not the day to read, although I'll do my best to keep it discreet. Second, you would DEFINITELY not like to have been at today's exam.
Everything's normal, and I'm not having a Godzilla-sized baby, despite the comments of almost everyone who sees me. They did a strep B test today, then an internal exam (which is the definition of "digital"). I had mentioned before that she "dropped," and during the exam, my doctor said "Oh-ho! Yes she did drop!" He then wheeled in the ultrasound machine to make sure it was really her head he'd been poking, not her butt. He said "We just want to make sure that's her head. It was pretty hard, so I think so. Of course, she could have a really hard butt. Buns of steel. And that would be okay. Nothing wrong with that." The ultrasound showed that it was her head. I got to see that her skull is the appropriate shape (round), and that her eye socket goes in and nose pokes out, which is as it should be. I didn't get to really see what she looked like, but I got a very clear shot of her hand as she opened and closed her fist as though she was waving at me.
Apparently my, uh, Volkswagen door is 2 centimeters open. I had to look it up for reassurance -- that doesn't mean she's coming tomorrow or something, but everything is progressing normally. Cool, huh?
Everything's normal, and I'm not having a Godzilla-sized baby, despite the comments of almost everyone who sees me. They did a strep B test today, then an internal exam (which is the definition of "digital"). I had mentioned before that she "dropped," and during the exam, my doctor said "Oh-ho! Yes she did drop!" He then wheeled in the ultrasound machine to make sure it was really her head he'd been poking, not her butt. He said "We just want to make sure that's her head. It was pretty hard, so I think so. Of course, she could have a really hard butt. Buns of steel. And that would be okay. Nothing wrong with that." The ultrasound showed that it was her head. I got to see that her skull is the appropriate shape (round), and that her eye socket goes in and nose pokes out, which is as it should be. I didn't get to really see what she looked like, but I got a very clear shot of her hand as she opened and closed her fist as though she was waving at me.
Apparently my, uh, Volkswagen door is 2 centimeters open. I had to look it up for reassurance -- that doesn't mean she's coming tomorrow or something, but everything is progressing normally. Cool, huh?
Monday, February 18, 2008
"Kid, we're not gonna make it to Sacramento"
Or, my fun weekend part 2.
Sunday morning we got up early and loaded up Aunt B, E, their dog buddy, and the two of us and headed to a coffee shop called "Gold Coast." I had a delicious cinnamon roll (one of the croissant-y kind), as did MG, and then we went to the coast. Our first stop, Goat Rock, was not really accessible because high tide was in. We drove a little further on and went to another beach. But as we got to the trail down to the beach itself, we saw that there was a huge family who had camped overnight and had clothes and stuff spread all over. Now, the weather was nice this weekend, but overnight on the coast by Bodega Bay with no tents... that's pushing it. They were almost certainly soaked and freezing. It's also illegal to camp there. We decided to avoid that kind of crazy and just walk along the bluffs instead. When Buddy had gotten his running out, we headed back.
MG and I showered and made ourselves a bit pretty, and then headed into Sebastopol. First we looked at the street with all these cool sculptures that artist Patrick Amiot made for his neighbors. Then we parked on the main drag. We were going to shop first, but the stores weren't open yet, so we went to East West Cafe and had lunch. It was pretty good, although their iced tea was yucky. Then we hit most of the stores on the street. There was a lot of good shopping! We bought books at Copperfield's, sniffed bath stuff at Sumbody, looked at hats and belts and socks and scarves and bracelets and antiques and tchotchkes and all sorts of things! I got cool stuff for Easter for Mom (although the lady in that store was creepy) and we looked at baby stuff (although the guy in that store was weird, and told us twice in two minutes that the Zutano line of baby clothing was coming out with new stuff in March), and saw expensive pajamas... Finally, we went to a Chocolate Cafe, because A: Chocolate and B: MG saw gelato on the outside menu. But when we went in, they had like four flavors, and two of them were almost depleted. We walked instead to Screaming Mimi's ice cream. MG got a lemon sorbet and a grapefruit campari sorbet (sounds good, huh?) and I had a dark chocolate scoop and a ginger scoop. It was really good.
Then we went back to B & E's place and sort of watched TV and read and napped until dinner.
This is where the fun part comes in. On Friday as we were driving up, MG told me that her aunt, B, was a huge practical joker. She warned me that I was almost certain to find a fake dog turd, fake vomit, realistic rat or something else. She also told me about the fake-out dish drop that is practically her aunt's signature move. She said she'd been "gotten" hundreds of times and only occasionally gotten her aunt back. Well, her aunt is a lesbian, kind of a child-hater, and very nervous about the whole pregnant house-guest thing. So we devised a plan. All weekend long, I'd been dropping subtle hints that maybe the baby was coming early. "Oh, there's really a lot of pressure in my back the last day or so." "Geez, if I didn't know better, I would swear she'd dropped more!" "I didn't sleep too well -- I kept having these cramps. Well, it's probably nothing." And so on. At the cramps one, Aunt B actually came running into the room from the kitchen (where we knew she could hear). So we had her going already when, at dinnertime on Sunday, I waddled out onto the porch with a Ziplock baggie full of water stuffed into my underpants and said "MG, I'm really sorry, I hate to spoil our dinner, but I just don't feel..." I tried to squeeze the bag with my thighs, but it didn't work, so in the last second before her aunt turned around, I just grabbed it until it splattered all over the deck. "Oh my god!" I looked down. Everyone looked down. "Is that...?" "MG, I think we have to go back to Sacramento!" Her aunt takes charge, gesturing with a near-presidential karate-chop hand of seriousness and says "Kid, we're not gonna make it to Sacramento. What we need to do is..." I was trying to hold it together, but I glanced at MG, whose face was about a millisecond away from laughter, and I dove for her and we both dissolved into laughter, as did E, who was in on the joke, and was very ready to finally get B back.
She admitted that we got her and got her good. Her sister, MG's other aunt, had actually suggested the prank, so we got to hear B narrate the story to her sister on the phone, too. It started something like "So this kid, who's like twelve months pregnant..."
We had another lovely dinner and a quiet drive home.
Today I got a bunch of stupid errands done, but that's not interesting, so I'm leaving you here. Take care!
Sunday morning we got up early and loaded up Aunt B, E, their dog buddy, and the two of us and headed to a coffee shop called "Gold Coast." I had a delicious cinnamon roll (one of the croissant-y kind), as did MG, and then we went to the coast. Our first stop, Goat Rock, was not really accessible because high tide was in. We drove a little further on and went to another beach. But as we got to the trail down to the beach itself, we saw that there was a huge family who had camped overnight and had clothes and stuff spread all over. Now, the weather was nice this weekend, but overnight on the coast by Bodega Bay with no tents... that's pushing it. They were almost certainly soaked and freezing. It's also illegal to camp there. We decided to avoid that kind of crazy and just walk along the bluffs instead. When Buddy had gotten his running out, we headed back.
MG and I showered and made ourselves a bit pretty, and then headed into Sebastopol. First we looked at the street with all these cool sculptures that artist Patrick Amiot made for his neighbors. Then we parked on the main drag. We were going to shop first, but the stores weren't open yet, so we went to East West Cafe and had lunch. It was pretty good, although their iced tea was yucky. Then we hit most of the stores on the street. There was a lot of good shopping! We bought books at Copperfield's, sniffed bath stuff at Sumbody, looked at hats and belts and socks and scarves and bracelets and antiques and tchotchkes and all sorts of things! I got cool stuff for Easter for Mom (although the lady in that store was creepy) and we looked at baby stuff (although the guy in that store was weird, and told us twice in two minutes that the Zutano line of baby clothing was coming out with new stuff in March), and saw expensive pajamas... Finally, we went to a Chocolate Cafe, because A: Chocolate and B: MG saw gelato on the outside menu. But when we went in, they had like four flavors, and two of them were almost depleted. We walked instead to Screaming Mimi's ice cream. MG got a lemon sorbet and a grapefruit campari sorbet (sounds good, huh?) and I had a dark chocolate scoop and a ginger scoop. It was really good.
Then we went back to B & E's place and sort of watched TV and read and napped until dinner.
This is where the fun part comes in. On Friday as we were driving up, MG told me that her aunt, B, was a huge practical joker. She warned me that I was almost certain to find a fake dog turd, fake vomit, realistic rat or something else. She also told me about the fake-out dish drop that is practically her aunt's signature move. She said she'd been "gotten" hundreds of times and only occasionally gotten her aunt back. Well, her aunt is a lesbian, kind of a child-hater, and very nervous about the whole pregnant house-guest thing. So we devised a plan. All weekend long, I'd been dropping subtle hints that maybe the baby was coming early. "Oh, there's really a lot of pressure in my back the last day or so." "Geez, if I didn't know better, I would swear she'd dropped more!" "I didn't sleep too well -- I kept having these cramps. Well, it's probably nothing." And so on. At the cramps one, Aunt B actually came running into the room from the kitchen (where we knew she could hear). So we had her going already when, at dinnertime on Sunday, I waddled out onto the porch with a Ziplock baggie full of water stuffed into my underpants and said "MG, I'm really sorry, I hate to spoil our dinner, but I just don't feel..." I tried to squeeze the bag with my thighs, but it didn't work, so in the last second before her aunt turned around, I just grabbed it until it splattered all over the deck. "Oh my god!" I looked down. Everyone looked down. "Is that...?" "MG, I think we have to go back to Sacramento!" Her aunt takes charge, gesturing with a near-presidential karate-chop hand of seriousness and says "Kid, we're not gonna make it to Sacramento. What we need to do is..." I was trying to hold it together, but I glanced at MG, whose face was about a millisecond away from laughter, and I dove for her and we both dissolved into laughter, as did E, who was in on the joke, and was very ready to finally get B back.
She admitted that we got her and got her good. Her sister, MG's other aunt, had actually suggested the prank, so we got to hear B narrate the story to her sister on the phone, too. It started something like "So this kid, who's like twelve months pregnant..."
We had another lovely dinner and a quiet drive home.
Today I got a bunch of stupid errands done, but that's not interesting, so I'm leaving you here. Take care!
Why I will no longer be taking Mark Twain's drinking water recommendations
AKA -- My fun weekend, part 1.
On Friday after school, I met some of my old co-workers for drinks (iced tea for me) at the Black Angus. (If you have a recommendation for a chichi place near my work, do let me know.) I just wanted to see them, but they all brought baby presents! I've been so spoiled. It was really nice to catch up with them.
Then I hurried home so I could meet Monkeygirl. I wanted to provide something for Sweetie for dinner, but he wasn't very helpful on the phone (I had awoken him), so I figured I'd stop at Jack-in-the-Box. Now, I'm not holding myself up as a paragon of non-fast-food-going virtue. It's true that I don't normally go to fast food outlets, but I'm not saying I haven't at all, ever. I have not, however, been through a drive-through on my own power. So I pull in and pull up to the first lit menu. There is no speaker, and someone pulls up behind me, and I figure out that I have to go to the second lit menu. The selection is fairly limited, and a burger is something like $5.99. Wow, not economical, but that's what I've settled on. It is called the #5 Bacon Cheeseburger, and I ask for it without cheese. They ask me if I want regular fries or curly, and I say regular. Then they ask what sort of drink I'd like, and I say "no drink." The disembodied voice pauses meaningfully, and then asks "No drink?" I realize at last that I have ordered some sort of combo meal, and the burger comes with fries and a drink. I thought she was just anticipating my fry needs! Anyway, I ask for a Diet Pepsi, and she says "Diet Coke okay?" Actually, I hate Diet Coke, but I've now made like four ordering errors, and I am so flustered I just say "Yes." Sheesh.
Monkeygirl got to my house about 20 seconds after I did, and in my rush I forgot a hairbrush, toothpaste, and my cell phone. Ah well. We drove straight through (but for a potty stop for me) to Guerneville where MG's aunt lives. Aunt B and her partner, E, were up and waiting for us, and we sat in the kitchen and talked for a long time. They pushed See's candy on us and B did impressions of MG, which was funny, because I've never really spent time with her family, nor with friends she's had longer than me, really, so it was great to see someone who knew her so well. Does that make sense?
The next morning we got up and B made us breakfast, which was both made and eaten at a leisurely pace. Then B packed a lunch for us (lots of fruit, bread, cheese, and some candy), and we were off to Vichy Springs. It was an hour door-to-door, and on the way, we passed the only Starbucks of this trip (wow, huh?) and the Ukiah gun club. I was a little surprised by Vichy Springs. I am not a hot springs regular -- I've been to Harbin on more occasions than I can count, but I have never been to any other hot springs, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Harbin has a restaurant, cafe, yoga classes, movie theater, small bookshop, library, massage and facial areas, dormitories, nicer rooms, and several pools. I guess I was thinking it would be something like that. In fact, it was an office, 21 hotel rooms, one swimming pool (closed for the season), several walking trails, a hot tub, and 10 individual spring-fed baths. Do that math, would you? 21 rooms, perhaps with 2 people each, and ten baths. However, it wasn't crowded -- we didn't have any problem getting our own baths. MG was vaguely worried that it was the scene of a horror movie and abandoned for some reason.
The baths... they were supposed to be "like bathing in Champagne." They effervesce. But they are also about 90 degrees. That is, as you might have worked out, about 8 and a half degrees below body temperature. Cold, in other words. And the baths are deep, but the sides are really straight-up-and-down, and there is a big metal ring sticking out of the head end. So you could either stretch out with your ears underwater and float or sit up completely and be even colder, but you could not rest your head against the back of the bath. I actually rested mine on the metal ring for a while, and I can still feel a sore spot on the back of my skull. We kept getting out to warm ourselves in the hot tub. And the baths themselves were concrete -- some of them were exceptionally rough on the bottom. Overall, we were unimpressed.
As for the title, there was a photo of Mark Twain dipping into the Vichy Springs drinking water and smiling. I filled my bottle there, but it was very warm, so I decided I'd let it cool and drink it later. Well, when I opened it again, it STUNK. I still tried to drink it, and it was nasty. I spat it out, actually. Jack London drank it, too. I don't know what's up with those guys!
On the way home, we picked up some crabs for dinner, and B prepared them, some pasta, bread, and salad. We had a nice evening and went to bed.
On Friday after school, I met some of my old co-workers for drinks (iced tea for me) at the Black Angus. (If you have a recommendation for a chichi place near my work, do let me know.) I just wanted to see them, but they all brought baby presents! I've been so spoiled. It was really nice to catch up with them.
Then I hurried home so I could meet Monkeygirl. I wanted to provide something for Sweetie for dinner, but he wasn't very helpful on the phone (I had awoken him), so I figured I'd stop at Jack-in-the-Box. Now, I'm not holding myself up as a paragon of non-fast-food-going virtue. It's true that I don't normally go to fast food outlets, but I'm not saying I haven't at all, ever. I have not, however, been through a drive-through on my own power. So I pull in and pull up to the first lit menu. There is no speaker, and someone pulls up behind me, and I figure out that I have to go to the second lit menu. The selection is fairly limited, and a burger is something like $5.99. Wow, not economical, but that's what I've settled on. It is called the #5 Bacon Cheeseburger, and I ask for it without cheese. They ask me if I want regular fries or curly, and I say regular. Then they ask what sort of drink I'd like, and I say "no drink." The disembodied voice pauses meaningfully, and then asks "No drink?" I realize at last that I have ordered some sort of combo meal, and the burger comes with fries and a drink. I thought she was just anticipating my fry needs! Anyway, I ask for a Diet Pepsi, and she says "Diet Coke okay?" Actually, I hate Diet Coke, but I've now made like four ordering errors, and I am so flustered I just say "Yes." Sheesh.
Monkeygirl got to my house about 20 seconds after I did, and in my rush I forgot a hairbrush, toothpaste, and my cell phone. Ah well. We drove straight through (but for a potty stop for me) to Guerneville where MG's aunt lives. Aunt B and her partner, E, were up and waiting for us, and we sat in the kitchen and talked for a long time. They pushed See's candy on us and B did impressions of MG, which was funny, because I've never really spent time with her family, nor with friends she's had longer than me, really, so it was great to see someone who knew her so well. Does that make sense?
The next morning we got up and B made us breakfast, which was both made and eaten at a leisurely pace. Then B packed a lunch for us (lots of fruit, bread, cheese, and some candy), and we were off to Vichy Springs. It was an hour door-to-door, and on the way, we passed the only Starbucks of this trip (wow, huh?) and the Ukiah gun club. I was a little surprised by Vichy Springs. I am not a hot springs regular -- I've been to Harbin on more occasions than I can count, but I have never been to any other hot springs, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Harbin has a restaurant, cafe, yoga classes, movie theater, small bookshop, library, massage and facial areas, dormitories, nicer rooms, and several pools. I guess I was thinking it would be something like that. In fact, it was an office, 21 hotel rooms, one swimming pool (closed for the season), several walking trails, a hot tub, and 10 individual spring-fed baths. Do that math, would you? 21 rooms, perhaps with 2 people each, and ten baths. However, it wasn't crowded -- we didn't have any problem getting our own baths. MG was vaguely worried that it was the scene of a horror movie and abandoned for some reason.
The baths... they were supposed to be "like bathing in Champagne." They effervesce. But they are also about 90 degrees. That is, as you might have worked out, about 8 and a half degrees below body temperature. Cold, in other words. And the baths are deep, but the sides are really straight-up-and-down, and there is a big metal ring sticking out of the head end. So you could either stretch out with your ears underwater and float or sit up completely and be even colder, but you could not rest your head against the back of the bath. I actually rested mine on the metal ring for a while, and I can still feel a sore spot on the back of my skull. We kept getting out to warm ourselves in the hot tub. And the baths themselves were concrete -- some of them were exceptionally rough on the bottom. Overall, we were unimpressed.
As for the title, there was a photo of Mark Twain dipping into the Vichy Springs drinking water and smiling. I filled my bottle there, but it was very warm, so I decided I'd let it cool and drink it later. Well, when I opened it again, it STUNK. I still tried to drink it, and it was nasty. I spat it out, actually. Jack London drank it, too. I don't know what's up with those guys!
On the way home, we picked up some crabs for dinner, and B prepared them, some pasta, bread, and salad. We had a nice evening and went to bed.
Friday, February 15, 2008
People watching
I didn't mention that I've had some good people-watching this week. At the Solomon Dubnick gallery, we saw the greatest comb-over. I saw this guy whose hair was Grecian Formula black, like BLACK black, but there was a pale stripe just above his ear which drew my attention. Naturally, that was his part. The rest of the blackness was swept to the right side of his head and plastered into place. I nudged Suzanne and Monkeygirl so they could both witness the glory.
In one of the other galleries, we saw a good kid-mullet. Listen, parents, I know you think your 6 year old has beautiful, flowing locks, and all you need to do is cut the front in a half-circle so that it's out of his eyes, but that is a mullet. It's wrong. Don't do it.
And yesterday I saw a guy in a Utilikilt. I like the Utilikilt. I think more people should wear them. I wanted to strike up a conversation with the guy, but how do you start that? "Hey, nice Utilikilt?" "Is that a Utilikilt you're wearing?" And what I really wanted to know was where a 40-something guy who appeared to be on his way home from work could possibly work in a Utilikilt. It doesn't seem very white-collar, but frankly it doesn't seem very blue-collar either. The IT guys would make fun of you, but so would the guy who drives the Bobcat. You'd almost have to be like a welder in a small business. Still, props to Utilikilt guy!
All for now. I may not be around this weekend, because I'm going to Sebastopol! I told Sweetie I really wanted to get one more weekend of quiet soaking and relaxation in before the baby comes, so he's sponsoring it. Thank you, Sweetie! Monkeygirl and I are leaving tonight, spending the day tomorrow at Vichy Springs, then dinking around to our hearts' content on Sunday before we drive home.
Oh, and incidentally, my head is stuck in a classic-rock loop, and not a good one. In the last 4 hours or so, it's been repeating Rod Stewart's "Maggie," the Rolling Stones' "Angie," and something else that I've mercifully forgotten. Think good thoughts for me that sometime soon I can get back to my usual 80s loop. It's like there's satellite radio in my head...
In one of the other galleries, we saw a good kid-mullet. Listen, parents, I know you think your 6 year old has beautiful, flowing locks, and all you need to do is cut the front in a half-circle so that it's out of his eyes, but that is a mullet. It's wrong. Don't do it.
And yesterday I saw a guy in a Utilikilt. I like the Utilikilt. I think more people should wear them. I wanted to strike up a conversation with the guy, but how do you start that? "Hey, nice Utilikilt?" "Is that a Utilikilt you're wearing?" And what I really wanted to know was where a 40-something guy who appeared to be on his way home from work could possibly work in a Utilikilt. It doesn't seem very white-collar, but frankly it doesn't seem very blue-collar either. The IT guys would make fun of you, but so would the guy who drives the Bobcat. You'd almost have to be like a welder in a small business. Still, props to Utilikilt guy!
All for now. I may not be around this weekend, because I'm going to Sebastopol! I told Sweetie I really wanted to get one more weekend of quiet soaking and relaxation in before the baby comes, so he's sponsoring it. Thank you, Sweetie! Monkeygirl and I are leaving tonight, spending the day tomorrow at Vichy Springs, then dinking around to our hearts' content on Sunday before we drive home.
Oh, and incidentally, my head is stuck in a classic-rock loop, and not a good one. In the last 4 hours or so, it's been repeating Rod Stewart's "Maggie," the Rolling Stones' "Angie," and something else that I've mercifully forgotten. Think good thoughts for me that sometime soon I can get back to my usual 80s loop. It's like there's satellite radio in my head...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Proof!
I really did get to hang out with Ms. Cussandotherrants herself this weekend. I didn't get a damn thing done Monday, because I was tired, and frankly, just a little down after all the excitement.
Yesterday was crazy nuts, in that I was at work for over 13 hours (that is the LAST basketball game I'm selling snacks at). I'm pretty wiped. I could go to ballet tonight, but I think I'm just going to enjoy my time at home. Anyway, I still have to pick up veggies, make a quick grocery stop, and do laundry, so it's not like there's nothing to take care of.
Today I am fighting back pain with a support belt thing and SalonPas. I feel like I'm about 80. Okay, the kids are getting done with their quizzes. See ya!
Yesterday was crazy nuts, in that I was at work for over 13 hours (that is the LAST basketball game I'm selling snacks at). I'm pretty wiped. I could go to ballet tonight, but I think I'm just going to enjoy my time at home. Anyway, I still have to pick up veggies, make a quick grocery stop, and do laundry, so it's not like there's nothing to take care of.
Today I am fighting back pain with a support belt thing and SalonPas. I feel like I'm about 80. Okay, the kids are getting done with their quizzes. See ya!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Wowsers, what a weekend!
This was a super-fun radical awesome weekend. On Friday after school, I picked up Suzanne at the Amtrak station. She had been travelling all day just to come out and see me! We came home and dropped stuff off, then went to eat at Maalouf's. Monkeygirl beat us there, and we shared a delicious meal, including the mazza platter, which I haven't had in a long time. We also got baklava to take home and eat later that night. Monkeygirl, Suzanne and I sat at my house and talked for ages.
On Saturday morning, we kind of just dinked around. I made waffles. I felt bad, because I make waffles for Sweetie every Sunday morning, but I make whole-wheat ones from a mix. Saturday I made not-whole-wheat ones from scratch, and Sweetie was like "the waffles are especially good!" I was like "Yeah, we have a guest, so I made the good waffles."
Sweetie had to teach a class, so Suzanne and I just hung around a bit, fooled around on the internet (okay, she was working, I was fooling around), took showers, and took a brief walk around the neighborhood. Then we went to the shower.
Okay, is there a better word for freakin' awesome? Because Monkeygirl goes so far beyond the limits of "freakin' awesome" that it's not even funny. She threw the most beautiful shower with an awesome spread of food and drink, gorgeous invitations and favors, super-yummy cupcakes... And it couldn't have been better, really. The great majority of my (female) loved ones were there, we had great conversations, non-discomfort-inducing games, and I got gifts -- so many gifts! I was telling Sweetie "And then I opened presents for, like... " Suzanne filled in: "Hours." It was an embarassment of riches, seriously, and I was beginning to wonder how I could walk the line between an appropriate amount of fawning over each one and not boring everyone to tears. My favorite thing was that I have so many crafty, talented friends -- I got a handmade sweater and hat (from Monkeygirl, who, wait for it, LEARNED HOW TO KNIT for that very purpose), two handmade blankets from Drummergirl (who also decorated some onesies for her and made a fleece hat), and a blanket from a co-worker. I mean, all this stuff is just so meaningful to me. I was really touched. I also had great fun talking with my diverse group of friends, all around my age, who gathered around the kitchen island. We just laughed our asses of. Funny to think that all these people whom I like also like each other.
We came home after that and rested a bit, then went to dinner at Kathmandu Kitchen. When we got home, we called Monkeygirl (who has been good enough to give up damn near her whole weekend to do stuff) and the three gals left Sweetie at home so we could walk around and look at art for Second Saturday. (If Suzanne left with a positive impression of Sacramento, it cannot have hurt that we had both BEAUTIFUL weather and a cool monthy art event this weekend.) We ended at the True Love Cafe, where I ran into a friend I hadn't seen since high school.
On Sunday morning, we met Monkeygirl at Fox and Goose for breakfast (Sweetie was grilling her on how she knew to meet us there at that time. Had we called her? He didn't seem to get that we had made plans in advance.) Then we dinked around a bit more, had lunch at the Rubicon (which was good, but it took a long time to get served) and then Mom picked up Suzanne and me so we could drive down to the Delta. Now, I've been to the Delta before - we go about once a year, sometimes more, to celebrate Boompah's birthday. But what's funny is that all the things we did yesterday, I'd never done before, and they were really cool! We went into the Ryde Hotel, which I had only driven by before. They had some of the rooms open, so we got to see them, and the whole place was filled with art deco furniture and art. Then we went to Locke, which I thought I'd been to before, but many, many years ago. Locke is basically frozen in time, and looks just like a movie set depicting a city 100 years ago. Finally, we went to the old sugar processing plant, which has been converted into a really pretty place for a series of wine shops/tasting rooms and gift stores. Then we went to Tres Hermanas for dinner. After dinner, we just hung out at home and Suzanne and Sweetie plotted ways to join the east and west coasts and do away with the heartland, and how to whittle down the population of Earth to about 3% of its current total.
This morning we had to say goodbye. I do think if NY were closer, Suzanne and I would be much better friends. I think she's great, and I'm sorry that our communication is almost all digital. But we're likely to see each other again in July (she'll be in S.F.), so then she'll get to meet the baby!
Now I need a nap and to do laundry. Take care, all.
On Saturday morning, we kind of just dinked around. I made waffles. I felt bad, because I make waffles for Sweetie every Sunday morning, but I make whole-wheat ones from a mix. Saturday I made not-whole-wheat ones from scratch, and Sweetie was like "the waffles are especially good!" I was like "Yeah, we have a guest, so I made the good waffles."
Sweetie had to teach a class, so Suzanne and I just hung around a bit, fooled around on the internet (okay, she was working, I was fooling around), took showers, and took a brief walk around the neighborhood. Then we went to the shower.
Okay, is there a better word for freakin' awesome? Because Monkeygirl goes so far beyond the limits of "freakin' awesome" that it's not even funny. She threw the most beautiful shower with an awesome spread of food and drink, gorgeous invitations and favors, super-yummy cupcakes... And it couldn't have been better, really. The great majority of my (female) loved ones were there, we had great conversations, non-discomfort-inducing games, and I got gifts -- so many gifts! I was telling Sweetie "And then I opened presents for, like... " Suzanne filled in: "Hours." It was an embarassment of riches, seriously, and I was beginning to wonder how I could walk the line between an appropriate amount of fawning over each one and not boring everyone to tears. My favorite thing was that I have so many crafty, talented friends -- I got a handmade sweater and hat (from Monkeygirl, who, wait for it, LEARNED HOW TO KNIT for that very purpose), two handmade blankets from Drummergirl (who also decorated some onesies for her and made a fleece hat), and a blanket from a co-worker. I mean, all this stuff is just so meaningful to me. I was really touched. I also had great fun talking with my diverse group of friends, all around my age, who gathered around the kitchen island. We just laughed our asses of. Funny to think that all these people whom I like also like each other.
We came home after that and rested a bit, then went to dinner at Kathmandu Kitchen. When we got home, we called Monkeygirl (who has been good enough to give up damn near her whole weekend to do stuff) and the three gals left Sweetie at home so we could walk around and look at art for Second Saturday. (If Suzanne left with a positive impression of Sacramento, it cannot have hurt that we had both BEAUTIFUL weather and a cool monthy art event this weekend.) We ended at the True Love Cafe, where I ran into a friend I hadn't seen since high school.
On Sunday morning, we met Monkeygirl at Fox and Goose for breakfast (Sweetie was grilling her on how she knew to meet us there at that time. Had we called her? He didn't seem to get that we had made plans in advance.) Then we dinked around a bit more, had lunch at the Rubicon (which was good, but it took a long time to get served) and then Mom picked up Suzanne and me so we could drive down to the Delta. Now, I've been to the Delta before - we go about once a year, sometimes more, to celebrate Boompah's birthday. But what's funny is that all the things we did yesterday, I'd never done before, and they were really cool! We went into the Ryde Hotel, which I had only driven by before. They had some of the rooms open, so we got to see them, and the whole place was filled with art deco furniture and art. Then we went to Locke, which I thought I'd been to before, but many, many years ago. Locke is basically frozen in time, and looks just like a movie set depicting a city 100 years ago. Finally, we went to the old sugar processing plant, which has been converted into a really pretty place for a series of wine shops/tasting rooms and gift stores. Then we went to Tres Hermanas for dinner. After dinner, we just hung out at home and Suzanne and Sweetie plotted ways to join the east and west coasts and do away with the heartland, and how to whittle down the population of Earth to about 3% of its current total.
This morning we had to say goodbye. I do think if NY were closer, Suzanne and I would be much better friends. I think she's great, and I'm sorry that our communication is almost all digital. But we're likely to see each other again in July (she'll be in S.F.), so then she'll get to meet the baby!
Now I need a nap and to do laundry. Take care, all.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Accomplished stuff
Well, I crossed off everything on my to-do list today. Unfortunately, it's not the next-six-weeks list, but I still feel pretty good about it.
Among other things, I ordered the surgical report from my breast reduction. According to the only breastfeeding after reduction book, it's important to know exactly what technique was used so you can guess how many ducts you'll have left (more or less).
While I was at the hospital, I bought a breast pump that comes with its own backpack (presumably so that I can go hiking and lactate at the same time), an AC power adapter, a car adapter, breast pads, a one handed adapter handle, the "Dual HygieniKit" milk collection system, 6 bottles, 3 freezer packs, and a removable insulated tote. Serious bidness, huh?
When I was leaving, I reached the crosswalk to the parking lot at the same time that an old woman did. A car stopped to let us cross, and I did. I noticed the car start to go even though the woman wasn't next to me, so I turned around to make sure she was okay, and I saw that she had turned and was walking along the sidewalk. I turned back around, and just a moment later, I heard a cry. I turned around again and saw that she had fallen. Several people rushed to her side, but no one went into the hospital right behind them. So I did. I jogged back to the first desk I saw and asked them to call someone. When I was sure they were on the phone getting help, I turned around to leave again. I passed two of the women whom I had seen helping the woman, and they saw me and were like "Oh, did you tell them?" I said I had, and went back outside. By then, they'd managed to snag a wheelchair, help her up, and sit her down. She had a cut on her forehead, but looked like she was going to be all right, so I left. I drove by again as I left and the security guy had arrived. Anyway, I hope she's okay.
My mom helped me get the form I needed to order the surgical report, and she also found a Blockbuster that had "Name of the Rose" (amazing, since they never have what I'm looking for).
I picked up my veggies and got us dinner as well.
Oh, and Monkeygirl found out that Vichy Springs, a spa near her aunt's house (where we're headed for President's Day weekend), is within the acceptable tempurature range for pregnant chicks! So yay, I get to go soak!
I guess that's about it. I don't know if I mentioned it, but I'm scrapbooking. That makes me feel hopelessly lame, but I think it's the form that my nesting instinct has taken. For months, the idea has been nagging at me that I ought to have some sort of scrapbook of the pregnancy. I mean, I have the fortune cookie fortunes that predicted that June would be the month... I have all the cards that people gave us. I have her ultrasound pictures... I just wanted something she could flip through that was the story of how she got here. So even though I'm as far as can be from the sort of soccer mom that I imagine has helped make "scrapbook" a verb, I am doing it. In fact, I have several pages done. And it isn't impeding my progress at all that I can't draw a straight line or that I have crappy handwriting.
Okay, that's enough rambling. Take care!
Among other things, I ordered the surgical report from my breast reduction. According to the only breastfeeding after reduction book, it's important to know exactly what technique was used so you can guess how many ducts you'll have left (more or less).
While I was at the hospital, I bought a breast pump that comes with its own backpack (presumably so that I can go hiking and lactate at the same time), an AC power adapter, a car adapter, breast pads, a one handed adapter handle, the "Dual HygieniKit" milk collection system, 6 bottles, 3 freezer packs, and a removable insulated tote. Serious bidness, huh?
When I was leaving, I reached the crosswalk to the parking lot at the same time that an old woman did. A car stopped to let us cross, and I did. I noticed the car start to go even though the woman wasn't next to me, so I turned around to make sure she was okay, and I saw that she had turned and was walking along the sidewalk. I turned back around, and just a moment later, I heard a cry. I turned around again and saw that she had fallen. Several people rushed to her side, but no one went into the hospital right behind them. So I did. I jogged back to the first desk I saw and asked them to call someone. When I was sure they were on the phone getting help, I turned around to leave again. I passed two of the women whom I had seen helping the woman, and they saw me and were like "Oh, did you tell them?" I said I had, and went back outside. By then, they'd managed to snag a wheelchair, help her up, and sit her down. She had a cut on her forehead, but looked like she was going to be all right, so I left. I drove by again as I left and the security guy had arrived. Anyway, I hope she's okay.
My mom helped me get the form I needed to order the surgical report, and she also found a Blockbuster that had "Name of the Rose" (amazing, since they never have what I'm looking for).
I picked up my veggies and got us dinner as well.
Oh, and Monkeygirl found out that Vichy Springs, a spa near her aunt's house (where we're headed for President's Day weekend), is within the acceptable tempurature range for pregnant chicks! So yay, I get to go soak!
I guess that's about it. I don't know if I mentioned it, but I'm scrapbooking. That makes me feel hopelessly lame, but I think it's the form that my nesting instinct has taken. For months, the idea has been nagging at me that I ought to have some sort of scrapbook of the pregnancy. I mean, I have the fortune cookie fortunes that predicted that June would be the month... I have all the cards that people gave us. I have her ultrasound pictures... I just wanted something she could flip through that was the story of how she got here. So even though I'm as far as can be from the sort of soccer mom that I imagine has helped make "scrapbook" a verb, I am doing it. In fact, I have several pages done. And it isn't impeding my progress at all that I can't draw a straight line or that I have crappy handwriting.
Okay, that's enough rambling. Take care!
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Polling place brought to you by David Lynch
Our polling place is an elementary school near the house. Sweetie and I went together this morning. I checked in first and got my ballot. As I was filling mine out, I heard them asking Sweetie about his name. I finished, and tore off the bottom of my ballot and stuffed it into the box. The guy who was probably in charge of telling me how to do that was somewhat distracted, but I know what I'm doing; I've voted in every election (including the little ones) since I was 18. Anyway, I was mostly done when he turned around and was like "Tear off the bottom and then... yeah, you got it." He was a very elderly gentleman, and I thanked him and walked toward the door. I also took my own "I voted" sticker. I waited, because I wanted to make sure I got to say goodbye to Sweetie, who would walk to work from there.
Well, Sweetie got done and walked toward the ballot box, where the elderly gentleman was no longer distracted. He gave him directions, and as Sweetie was putting his ballot in the box, I watched in horror while the elderly gentleman stuck his index finger into his mouth, got it nice and wet, and then tapped the pile of "I voted" stickers until one of them stuck to his slobbery finger. Sweetie then turned around, the elderly gentleman handed him the sticker, and Sweetie said "Thank you. You have a wonderful day." Then he started to walk away. But the elderly gentleman proclaimed "Hey hey hey! You're the first one who's said that to me today! I never let that go by!" Then he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the following business card.
Naturally, I waited until Sweetie had stuck his sticker on before telling him that the elderly gentleman had slobbered all over it.
Well, Sweetie got done and walked toward the ballot box, where the elderly gentleman was no longer distracted. He gave him directions, and as Sweetie was putting his ballot in the box, I watched in horror while the elderly gentleman stuck his index finger into his mouth, got it nice and wet, and then tapped the pile of "I voted" stickers until one of them stuck to his slobbery finger. Sweetie then turned around, the elderly gentleman handed him the sticker, and Sweetie said "Thank you. You have a wonderful day." Then he started to walk away. But the elderly gentleman proclaimed "Hey hey hey! You're the first one who's said that to me today! I never let that go by!" Then he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the following business card.
Naturally, I waited until Sweetie had stuck his sticker on before telling him that the elderly gentleman had slobbered all over it.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Gettin' down to brass tacks
Well, I had my 32 week appointment today, although I'm now almost 34 weeks. I took my birth plan in and my doctor took a copy and scanned it into my medical records so they can pull it up when I check in to labor and delivery. He went over it with me -- the only unusual thing I asked for was that the umbilical cord not be cut immediately. He was like "Well, if there's an emergency, if the baby needs immediate care, or if it's wrapped around the neck... then we might have to cut it right away." I said "Well that's fine -- I kind of assumed everything in my 'plan' was subject to change if the baby's health was in danger." He was like "Yeah, I knew you'd be flexible, but I just have to tell you." I mean, seriously, am I going to get butt-hurt if they have to whisk the baby away because it's not breathing instead of bringing it to me right away? Hell no! Get that sucker some oxygen, you know?
I had been worried that she was sideways when around now she's supposed to flip to a head-down position. I keep getting kicked in the sides. But apparently that's just her stretching, because he felt the head way down in my pelvis and her "heinie" (as he put it) up above my belly button. So I guess she's pretty much in position!
I have my next two appointments scheduled (actually three, but the third is after the due date, just in case she's late).
She's getting bigger and her heartbeat is slowing down (it's now in the 130/140 range).
Tonight is our last childbirth class, and later this week is the newborn care class.
My shower's on Saturday.
March 14th will be my last day of work.
I found out where to buy a medical-grade breast pump for a fairly reasonsable amount. My doctor said that's the one his wife uses, and it's very effective. He said if it starts to suck my eyeballs in to turn it down.
We're really getting there! We're going to have a baby in about 6 weeks!
Oh, and incidentally, it turns out that as long as I am pregnant, I will not punch you in the balls for greeting me with "Getting a little chunky there" first thing in the morning. Afterwards, though, watch out.
I had been worried that she was sideways when around now she's supposed to flip to a head-down position. I keep getting kicked in the sides. But apparently that's just her stretching, because he felt the head way down in my pelvis and her "heinie" (as he put it) up above my belly button. So I guess she's pretty much in position!
I have my next two appointments scheduled (actually three, but the third is after the due date, just in case she's late).
She's getting bigger and her heartbeat is slowing down (it's now in the 130/140 range).
Tonight is our last childbirth class, and later this week is the newborn care class.
My shower's on Saturday.
March 14th will be my last day of work.
I found out where to buy a medical-grade breast pump for a fairly reasonsable amount. My doctor said that's the one his wife uses, and it's very effective. He said if it starts to suck my eyeballs in to turn it down.
We're really getting there! We're going to have a baby in about 6 weeks!
Oh, and incidentally, it turns out that as long as I am pregnant, I will not punch you in the balls for greeting me with "Getting a little chunky there" first thing in the morning. Afterwards, though, watch out.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Of best friends and grandmas
First, I just want to say how lucky I am to have a best friend. Yesterday I called her and said, "Um, I have boring stuff to do today and thought it might be more fun with you. Are you free?"
She said, "Sure, what are we doing?"
I responded, "Well, I have to go to Ikea and pick some stuff up, like light bulbs, and then I need to go update my baby registry at Target."
Here is where the awesomeness of having a best friend comes in. She replied enthusiastically, "And what's the boring part?!"
We went on my errands, had a cinnamon roll at Ikea, went to dinner, briefly visited her dad at work, and had a fucking blast. And to emphasize how great she is, she's throwing my baby shower on Saturday, and has taken it all on -- games, invitations, food, favors -- herself. She won't even hear of me helping. Did I mention she's a lawyer and has a hugely time-intensive job and a long commute?
Next up: My grandma. I may not have talked much about my grandma, but she's a real character. She's the sort of woman who will, when asked by the waiter if he can take her plate (when there's one bite left and she hasn't touched it in 20 minutes) will say "No you may not!" and gesture threateningly with the fork.
She is loving and devoted, and a wee bit crazy. Maybe not crazy, just... she knows what she wants and is determined that things will go her way.
Anyway, imagine this conversation extended to something like 30 minutes, and you will have an idea of the phone call I got this morning.
Grandma: Good morning. I need to know how to do your registry.
Count Mockula: How to... access it? Use it?
G: Well, I think I'm here, but I don't know where to go from here.
CM: Okay, does it say "Target dot com?" in the address bar?
G: What's that now?
CM: Well, actually, are you just at the page that says Target and has the Target logo?
G: (Pause). Yes.
CM: Okay, well, can you see where it says "gift registries"?
G: No. It says Login username.
CM: It does? Well, hit the back button.
G: The what?
CM: Um, an arrow pointing left, up in the top of your screen?
G: I don't know... Oh, here. Now it says "The Things I want dot com."
CM: I thought you were at Target?
G: Well, I don't know.
CM: Well, "The Things I Want" is my other registry, so let's start there. Do you see a box that says "Find someone else's registry?"
G: No, it just says Login.
CM: And you hit the back button?
G: Yes.
CM: Okay, do you know what the address bar is? Do you see a long skinny white bar where it says something like "H T T P slash slash..."?
G: Yes.
CM: Okay, try to back up so it just says "http://www." and erase everything that comes after it.
G: It will only highlight the whole thing.
CM: What if you move your cursor to the spot right after the www period and click?
G: It highlights the whole thing.
CM: Okay, try this. Put your cursor right after the period, click down and hold the left button, them slide it all the way to the right, to the end of the address and then let go.
G: Let's see. Oh! That worked.
CM: Now hit "backspace."
I'll save you some brain death and just tell you that it took about another 5 minutes to type the address and locate "enter," and I already skipped the part where she only knows how to get somewhere via a search engine.
Anyway, we spend a few minutes looking at my selections on TTIW, which she is not particularly interested in, and then we go through some more exciting tech talk to get to the Target registry. After the technical conversation, we pick it up with this one.
G: Mittens? Who needs mittens in Sacramento in the summer?
CM: I registered for mittens?
G: Yes, "mittens, pink newborn."
CM: Oh, those are those little cotton things that keep them from scratching themselves.
G: Well, they'll do that. A changing pad? Do you have a changing table?
CM: No, and I don't think I'll get one. But I thought the pad would be good for containing the biohazard if I change her on the bed or couch.
G: Is "biohazard" shit?
CM: Yeah.
G: Well, I don't think you'll need that.
CM: Okay.
G: Sleep sack and cap. A cap? No, I don't think so. That's silly.
CM: Uh...
G: Hooded towels. Now THOSE are useful. I like those. [Ten more minutes of commentary on my choices deleted.]
G: Well, I think I'll print this out.
CM: You know, if you go to the Target store, they have kiosks where you can print these out, and it will tell you what aisle everything is on.
G: Oh, I don't think I'll go to Target. I'm probably going to Goore's.
CM: Oh. Okay.
G: Or maybe Penney's. I like their Carter's clothes. They are cute, they fit, and they hold up through a few washings.
CM: Okay.
By the way, just in case you're thinking to yourself something like "Well, she's 80, give her a break on the computer stuff," you might change your tune if you knew she has been a computer user, and has had the fanciest, fastest, brand-newest model of computer since about 1990. I clearly remember her encouraging my younger cousins to use "Reader Rabbit" on her desktop when we still used those huge floppy disks. And those cousins were in like first grade then and are full-fledged adults now. I remember helping her dial up to a geneaology BBS in the days before the internet. So there is really no excuse for having to hunt for the "enter" key or not being able to type in a web address. She just cracks me up.
She said, "Sure, what are we doing?"
I responded, "Well, I have to go to Ikea and pick some stuff up, like light bulbs, and then I need to go update my baby registry at Target."
Here is where the awesomeness of having a best friend comes in. She replied enthusiastically, "And what's the boring part?!"
We went on my errands, had a cinnamon roll at Ikea, went to dinner, briefly visited her dad at work, and had a fucking blast. And to emphasize how great she is, she's throwing my baby shower on Saturday, and has taken it all on -- games, invitations, food, favors -- herself. She won't even hear of me helping. Did I mention she's a lawyer and has a hugely time-intensive job and a long commute?
Next up: My grandma. I may not have talked much about my grandma, but she's a real character. She's the sort of woman who will, when asked by the waiter if he can take her plate (when there's one bite left and she hasn't touched it in 20 minutes) will say "No you may not!" and gesture threateningly with the fork.
She is loving and devoted, and a wee bit crazy. Maybe not crazy, just... she knows what she wants and is determined that things will go her way.
Anyway, imagine this conversation extended to something like 30 minutes, and you will have an idea of the phone call I got this morning.
Grandma: Good morning. I need to know how to do your registry.
Count Mockula: How to... access it? Use it?
G: Well, I think I'm here, but I don't know where to go from here.
CM: Okay, does it say "Target dot com?" in the address bar?
G: What's that now?
CM: Well, actually, are you just at the page that says Target and has the Target logo?
G: (Pause). Yes.
CM: Okay, well, can you see where it says "gift registries"?
G: No. It says Login username.
CM: It does? Well, hit the back button.
G: The what?
CM: Um, an arrow pointing left, up in the top of your screen?
G: I don't know... Oh, here. Now it says "The Things I want dot com."
CM: I thought you were at Target?
G: Well, I don't know.
CM: Well, "The Things I Want" is my other registry, so let's start there. Do you see a box that says "Find someone else's registry?"
G: No, it just says Login.
CM: And you hit the back button?
G: Yes.
CM: Okay, do you know what the address bar is? Do you see a long skinny white bar where it says something like "H T T P slash slash..."?
G: Yes.
CM: Okay, try to back up so it just says "http://www." and erase everything that comes after it.
G: It will only highlight the whole thing.
CM: What if you move your cursor to the spot right after the www period and click?
G: It highlights the whole thing.
CM: Okay, try this. Put your cursor right after the period, click down and hold the left button, them slide it all the way to the right, to the end of the address and then let go.
G: Let's see. Oh! That worked.
CM: Now hit "backspace."
I'll save you some brain death and just tell you that it took about another 5 minutes to type the address and locate "enter," and I already skipped the part where she only knows how to get somewhere via a search engine.
Anyway, we spend a few minutes looking at my selections on TTIW, which she is not particularly interested in, and then we go through some more exciting tech talk to get to the Target registry. After the technical conversation, we pick it up with this one.
G: Mittens? Who needs mittens in Sacramento in the summer?
CM: I registered for mittens?
G: Yes, "mittens, pink newborn."
CM: Oh, those are those little cotton things that keep them from scratching themselves.
G: Well, they'll do that. A changing pad? Do you have a changing table?
CM: No, and I don't think I'll get one. But I thought the pad would be good for containing the biohazard if I change her on the bed or couch.
G: Is "biohazard" shit?
CM: Yeah.
G: Well, I don't think you'll need that.
CM: Okay.
G: Sleep sack and cap. A cap? No, I don't think so. That's silly.
CM: Uh...
G: Hooded towels. Now THOSE are useful. I like those. [Ten more minutes of commentary on my choices deleted.]
G: Well, I think I'll print this out.
CM: You know, if you go to the Target store, they have kiosks where you can print these out, and it will tell you what aisle everything is on.
G: Oh, I don't think I'll go to Target. I'm probably going to Goore's.
CM: Oh. Okay.
G: Or maybe Penney's. I like their Carter's clothes. They are cute, they fit, and they hold up through a few washings.
CM: Okay.
By the way, just in case you're thinking to yourself something like "Well, she's 80, give her a break on the computer stuff," you might change your tune if you knew she has been a computer user, and has had the fanciest, fastest, brand-newest model of computer since about 1990. I clearly remember her encouraging my younger cousins to use "Reader Rabbit" on her desktop when we still used those huge floppy disks. And those cousins were in like first grade then and are full-fledged adults now. I remember helping her dial up to a geneaology BBS in the days before the internet. So there is really no excuse for having to hunt for the "enter" key or not being able to type in a web address. She just cracks me up.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Great day, plus bonus: I don't have to commit ritual suicide!
Today was a great day. First thing in the morning, I got to see a teacher who returned after a LONG maternity leave. I really like her, and am glad to see she's back.
Then in 2nd period, my principal brought over the woman who will likely be my long-term substitute, and I liked her and think she'll do a good job.
Finally, in 6th period we had our Poetry Out Loud competition. Last year sucked. In fact, I found my post about last year's competition.
I was so worried about a repeat that I sent out multiple emails begging people to participate and encourage their students to come. I may have threatened to commit ritual suicide if it went as poorly as last year. And at lunch today, I announced that if it went as badly as last year, I wasn't doing it again.
But it was great! We had about 15 kids participate. The audience was rather larger than I expected, but they behaved pretty well. The kids were GOOD (only one girl forgot her lines and couldn't finish). The sound and lighting crew were great. The timing was perfect (I was able to announce the winner just a few minutes before the bell rang, so no wasting time). And the cherry on top for me was that one of my students won, and another of my students, who is actually in special ed, came in third! I'm so proud!
And of course, I spent the evening with Sweetie, which is always the topper for a good day.
Then in 2nd period, my principal brought over the woman who will likely be my long-term substitute, and I liked her and think she'll do a good job.
Finally, in 6th period we had our Poetry Out Loud competition. Last year sucked. In fact, I found my post about last year's competition.
I was so worried about a repeat that I sent out multiple emails begging people to participate and encourage their students to come. I may have threatened to commit ritual suicide if it went as poorly as last year. And at lunch today, I announced that if it went as badly as last year, I wasn't doing it again.
But it was great! We had about 15 kids participate. The audience was rather larger than I expected, but they behaved pretty well. The kids were GOOD (only one girl forgot her lines and couldn't finish). The sound and lighting crew were great. The timing was perfect (I was able to announce the winner just a few minutes before the bell rang, so no wasting time). And the cherry on top for me was that one of my students won, and another of my students, who is actually in special ed, came in third! I'm so proud!
And of course, I spent the evening with Sweetie, which is always the topper for a good day.
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