How I Used to Be a Better Blogger

Searching my archive tonight for a specific post led to me reading a bunch of old posts. The internal reflective consensus is that I used to be a better/more interesting blogger. It's been a slow, inevitable, Romanesque decline. I expect the Visigoths to knock on my door sometime in the next week. Visigoths look like pest control salesmen these days.

I like to blame Twitter. If I had an observation or a joke I was trying to work out, I stored it and worked it into a blog later. Now I can just slide my phone open and throw it out there. Lazy. (Not lazy for those of you who follow me on the Twitters; all kinds of convenient for you.)

I suppose you could also blame my work. Since I started writing this blog, my work went from writing occasionally, to being the focus of my career. While it's still fun to try voices out on this here blog (Appalachian!?) I use most of my creative inclinations for paying clients.

I can't help but think over the past year's complete uncertainty and roiling personal waters as stealing some of my mojo. The personal reflective time I used to spend blogging is now often spent in my head, trying to make sense of all the miracles and disasters that surround me. My head feels so full I can hardly hold it up, but I can't find the words to empty it. The fear of developing a bitter bite encroaches. I like writing for you, but the posts can't all be good. Most of them are barely passable. Every once in a while I write something I really love.

The clock says it's fast rounding the corner of 1am, and I am fast losing my admiration for Ben Stein's recommendations. Maybe I can distract myself with a new project! Reorganize the laundry system! Do a closet purge! Perform a used car search to research buying a car we couldn't possibly afford! Learn how to change the oil and filter on a lawn mower! Worry! Excessively and without reason!

So, to tie it all up into a bow: nothing is like it used to be and that is scary.

14 Items of Varying Importance

1. It's "Oy vey". Not "Oi veigh". Not "Oy Vay". Not "Oi Vaee", nor any other unholy combination thereof.
2. Shiny is something. Shinny isn't, unless you're aware of someone with freakishly out-sized shins (please take picture.)
3. It's "über". If you can't stomach umlauts (bad summer with the Crüe?) then you may write "uber". "Ober", no. "Oober", no for the love of berliners, no (unless you are TAMN.)
4. Speaking of, Der Himmel über Berlin is still as beautiful today as it was in 1988. And it will make you want to throat-punch Nic Cage and Meg Ryan for starring in City of Angels. Well, throat-punch them more.
5. Half of you will be bored if you really decide to watch Der Himmel über Berlin, the other half will cry and fall in love. You already know which group you fall into.
6. Alan Thicke from Growing Pains is hawking diabetes supplies on TV. His on-screen qualification is "Famous Television Dad."
7. Know who else was a famous television dad? Frank Costanza. I'm not buying anything from either of them, except for a manzier of course.
8. Manziers all around.
9. Someone let a mancold in here.
10. That someone will be summarily fired.
11. Currently reading the archives of Andy's We Are Luck. We Are Fate. I vote that he harbors an unreasonable love of Christopher Hitchens. Andy, defend yourself.
12. Also currently reading: East of Eden, Memoirs From Antproof Case, and Eugenides' short story in the New Yorker.
13. I have a bit of a thing for masculine-driven fiction lately.
14. The drive to Logan takes 1.5 hours. The drive home takes 2.5. Explain.

2009 Madcap Recap

Today's Mama asked me to give them a Recap of 2009. (SPOILER ALERT: I did.)

That's the most recap you're going to get out of me, gang.

Well, maybe a little more:

1. Posts: 116.
2. Babies: 0 new (phew.)
3. Pounds gained/lost: It's probably a wash.
4. Cell phone: 1, the whole year, the same one, even though it spent a night in a snow bank two weeks ago.
5. People Offended: I've lost count.
6. People Loved: I've lost count.
7. Houses: 1 new.
8. Cars: 0 new.
9. Tweets: A quadrillion.
10. Facebook: Joined. Thanks to you people.
11. Social Media Anxiety: NONE
12. Haircuts: 2 (We haven't talked about how I tried to grow my hair out this year, have we? Well that was an exercise in both futility and horror.)
13. Love matches made: 0 (I suck.)
14. Skullcandy headphones: 4.
15. Baby and wedding showers: Sometimes I wish I drank.
16. Glasses of water: 2920
17. Toddlers weaned: 1.
18. School-age children: 1.
19. Burgers eaten: Wow, more than every other year added together thanks to The Project and the boys I work with everyday (who must eat meat or faint like delicate lilies.)
20. Voice mails answered: None, as of 12/5/09, and no more going forward.
21. Rock Band: Conquered.

Something Old, Something New

Old news comes from my Giveaway Giveaway. Random says that Clyde won!

Clyde said...
My daughter's classmate father passed away about a week before Thanksgiving... He was the only income in the house (three kids, the youngest is 2 1/2 years old) so it's a heartache to know that this Christmas will be a hard one - without a dad and some little new things to play with.

Thanks for this generous giveaway!... It will make a lot of a deal for whoever is the lucky winner.

Clyde, drop an email to jetset dot azucar at gmail dot com.


Something New!

Did you know I get phone calls from my friends asking me questions night and day? It's true: my friends treat me like I'm their Wikipedia on speed dial. Sometimes a girl gets tired answering calls all the time, even if the phone is ringing Jay-Z. That's why I started a new blog to feature things I like, things I don't like, and soup, which I could eat, or not eat. The blog is called Jet Set Galore. And while it will not tell you on which aisle you can find the balsamic vinegar at the Wal*Mart, and a recipe for balsamic dressing (Shannon,) today Jet Set Galore will tell you where to get the best facial in Salt Lake (of course, it's the only facial I've ever had in Salt Lake.)

I would be genuinely delighted if you'd pop on over and tell me what you like or don't like, or talk all about soup.

(I like olives.)

Two Things

1. Williams-Sonoma is selling this jar of "Handmade Peppermint Snow" for $10.00, yes, ten bones. I know, it's William-Sonoma, but I'm sorry, I CANNOT HANDLE that they are selling CRUSHED candy canes for a ten whole dollars. MY TODDLER can "HAND-MAKE" "Peppermint Snow" in 30 seconds flat. This has to be THE MOST RIDICULOUS FOOD PRODUCT EVER. And yes, I am aware of the marvelous variety of products over at Steve, Don't Eat It*.



2. I like that out of all the photographs this debt relief company could have chosen, they picked this guy.

Because nothing says "we're a reliable company" like picking Rob Zombie's little brother, Ben Zombie. Awesome sauce.




*The Sneeze featuring Steve, Don't Eat It, is disgusting and incredibly cool, but not for the faint of belly. You've been warned.

Authority and a Timer

Last September, a real estate agent named Spencer with Home and Family Realty listed our condo for sale. He listed it for a huge price, far above what it was worth. That listing expired today. I started getting calls this morning about the expired listing from other real estate agents.

Just one problem: I never listed a condo with Spencer, or Home and Family Realty. In fact, I've never heard of either of those two entities. My condo wasn't for sale last September as we had no intention of selling at that point. I never signed a contract, made a phone call, or even sent up a smoke signal: the listing was a fabrication out of whole cloth.

The first agent was super nice as I tried to explain what happened with our condo--that we never listed it for sale and it never went on the Multiple Listing Service. (In May we decided to sell our condo and two days later we had a contract on the place from some friends of ours, it didn't go onto the MLS. We didn't have a real estate agent involved. We completed the sale in June without an agent of any kind.)

I tried calling Home and Family Realty this morning but they didn't pick up, not once of the fifteen times I rang.

The second agent that called me got an earful. He suggested that I simply tell the other agents, who will no doubt be calling like carrion to try to feed off the bones of a faux dead listing, that the information was wrong and the listing was bad. What fun would that be, I thought to myself, I'd rather go ninja on them.

Because WHO DOES THAT? Who lists a place that they have no authority to sell?



Also, El Guille fixed his own breakfast this morning: brown sugar with a honey chaser and is now making sounds like an air raid siren, making me even more cheerful than humanly possible. I will fix this by having him run a race from the downstairs to the upstairs three times with a stop watch to time him (1:51).

I Can't, I Have a Pig Roast

That's my favorite excuse this time of year. It's true, I did have a pig roast that I had to attend last Friday. Our benevolent hostess loved the idea of a dessert for which she did not have to produce plates and silverware. I came up with the idea to make lemon meringue cupcakes.

And yo, they were really good. I used Lindsey's Blood Orange Cake recipe, but used lemons instead. Then I filled the cupcakes with lemon curd, made an Italian meringue, and toasted the meringue in the oven just like lemon meringue pie.

And lo, the cupcakes were insanely delicious and I think they'll be my new trademark.

My husband hates those cupcakes because they took way too much time to make and messed up the entire kitchen. I may have to rethink my new trademark.

On Sunday afternoon, right after his father told him not to, E.G. swung the following wooden toy around by its pull string...

and caught his brother, Proximo, with a deep slice on the upper eyelid/lower eyebrow. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw Other Half carrying Proximo up from the scene of the crime, his little head, face, neck, t-shirt covered in splotches of bright red blood. He came about 5 cm away from losing an eye, which, you know, it's all fun and games...

I made the trip to the ER where he was glued up with Dermabond and sent on his merry way, all within 45 minutes (we have a good ER.)

So, wooden toys? Adorable, so cute, sustainable, no scary chemicals. Downside? Getting clocked with one sends you to into the arms of a doctor.





Join me over at Segullah today, I'm talking about questionable church music performances, and whether or not you miss them (you do, don't you?)

Things I Did Today That Were Awesome

1. Forgot my wallet in my other purse. This is what happens when you are vain and switch around purses every day.

2. Didn’t know I forgot my wallet until I went to pay for my lunch.

3. I made Jenny pay for my lunch.

4. I couldn’t find a mint after lunch so I ate half of the emergency cough drop stashed in my desk.

5. I have an emergency cough drop.

6. I ate only half of the cough drop so I could save the other half FOR LATER.

7. Drank two Diet Pepsis and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

8. My foot tapped so fast that I’m pretty sure I contracted Dance Fever with its accompanying rash.

9. Got my kids to eat salad by not chopping the leaves and telling them that it was giant salad. It worked.

10. Gave up cleaning my house. I’m going to have to do a massive clean next week, why waste that time now?

11. Informed someone that the number one killer of domestic cats is feline AIDS.

12. Decided for no particular reason (except my kids were still awake two hours past bedtime) to change their sleeping arrangements by putting in Proximo into the same bed as El Guille.

13. I did not chase them when they abused the privilege by running around the place and hiding behind the toilet (see number 9.)

14. I did, however, totally laugh.

15. And gave up.

16. I may have started a trashy book club to read the books you should be embarrassed to be reading. First up: Nicole Richie's The Truth About Diamonds.

Installation Piece

I got a phone call just as I was merging onto the freeway yesterday.

"Hey, what did you do with that pencil after you finished sketching designs for the new kitchen we can't afford yet?"

"I don't remember."

"I'll give you a hint."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah, Proximo found it. Let's just say I think you're going to have to repaint."

"WHAT? No, that can't be. Repaint?"

"It's everywhere on the kitchen walls, and I mean everywhere. Every swath of space between his toes and his head is covered."

"I don't have to repaint, that's what magic erasers are for."

"That won't work."

"It's just pencil isn't it?"

"Yes, but it's EVERYWHERE."

Sure enough, the pencil marks were both abundant and vicious. Huge black marks all over my Pale Ivory walls. Let's just say that I'm totally turning it into What My Kids' Art Says as an installation piece.

(click to enlarge)

While I was diligently scrubbing with the magic eraser, Proximo toddled in next to me and put his head close to mine.

"Sowwy, Mama," he said quietly.

"It's OK, baby," I answered quietly.


I do declare, all of these adventures have really refined my sense of patience and added miles to my fuse.

I THINK I'VE LEARNED MY LESSON I DON'T NEED ANY MORE, THANKS.


Mid-week T-Ball Report


El Guille played first base this game and has come up with a strategy to beat all other strategies. First, he crouches next to the base. Second, he covers the base with sand in a surprisingly effective move that prevents the runner from even SEEING the base where they need to go. I am struck with the tremendous totality of his strategery.


Don’t worry, he totally blows it when he sees the runner coming and confesses, “Hey, I hid the base under the sand, it’s right here.”


We’re working on it.

(Portrait of the artist at the unveiling)



Update: I did submit to What My Kids' Art Says, and this is what it says.

Phoning It In

“Hey blog, how’s it going?”

“Oh, hey there.” muffled sounds in background

“What’s happening?”

“What? Oh, that, uh, nothing.”

“Did I just hear the Humpty Dance hook?”

“Just hanging out here with my peeps.”

“Blogs don’t have peeps; you’re just digital piles of data on a server somewhere.”

“Oh yeah? Then why do you keep personifying me?”

“Lazy story telling?”

“You said it. So why are you phoning it in to me today?”

“I just feel like I don’t really have anything really meaningful to say.”

“And this is different from normal how?”

“You know, you can be really mean.”

“I think this says more about you and your subconscious than it does my participation in this personification. I find your existential whining to be extremely uninteresting. ”

“Gah, that kind of arm-chair philosophy is why people find us pretentious. I went to Park City the other night for Tiffany’s birthday.”

“Heard of her. How is her existential crisis?”

“Must you have a comment for everything? Anyway, it was a magical night: French food, sparkling company, purple sky, bad DJ, white-knuckle drive home watching for deer, blah, blah, blah.”

“So you went to Park City even though they closed all the schools there because of the swine flu pandemic?”

“Yes. And I didn’t wear a mask and I made a firm promise to lick all the schoolchildren I ran across just to prove my contempt for H1N1.”

“Nice.”

“That was a joke. About the school children.”

“A little over the line.”

“Whatever. Have you noticed that Chyler Leigh is pregnant on Grey’s Anatomy and they’re trying really hard to cover it up by placing her in front of things, or behind people, or blocking the camera in pretty funny ways?”

“No. I don’t watch Grey’s, so pedestrian. I use that time to catch up on my DVR’d episodes of Charlie Rose. Sometimes the Fareed Zakaria show.”

“You do not. Wait. Did you hear that?”

“Sounds like your husband.”

“Oh crap! Yeah, he just said in a very loud voice to Proximo that I’m not at home. That’s my cue to run to the foyer and kind of hide in the front closet.”

“Wait, what?”

“Look, Proximo is still attached to me, like, very attached. And sometimes he won’t go to bed and we have to pretend like I’m not at home so he’ll go to sleep. So daddy will walk him around the house looking in different rooms and exclaiming, ‘Look! No Mama!’ until Proximo is sufficiently satisfied that I’m not at his disposal, and then he’ll go to sleep.”

“Seriously? Isn’t that kind of mean? He’s only two.”

“I know, I have mixed feelings about it. Other Half says that one day Proximo’s going to realize that I’m actually in the house and he’ll never trust us again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Clearly, I agree.”

“So. This is a little awkward, a few of the others just showed up…”

“The others?”

“Yeah, some of the other blogs. El Paso Represents brought queso dip. Listen, I really have to go. It’s been nice, but maybe next time that you’re having blogger’s block you could try something else rather than resorting to phoning it in?”

“Duly noted.”

Things I Did This Week Instead of Exercise:

Became a vegetarian for at least four days.


Sang Foo Fighter's Everlong on Expert,
in the original register,
got 100%,
Altering my life forever with awesomeness
(Calories burned: 50--I'm a performer.)

Sang Foo Fighter's Everlong on Expert, got 100%, while nursing the baby (Calories burned: 200)

Drove my car really fast (had to take my BPM on that one, 140.)

Ate no breakfast (Calories burned: 60)

Ate plenty of lunch (Calories burned: I don't want to talk about it.)

Stayed up all night for three nights with baby (Calories burned: 175)

Got a fierce hug from the baby for snatching him out of his crib when he cried (Calories burned: 4,000,000--my heart nearly exploded into a supernova.)

Read To Kill a Mockingbird and loved it way more than I remembered (Calories burned: -300) (Easter candy.)

Hit refresh ON MY OWN BLOG to check for new content (Calories burned: 2)

Did not fall asleep in a meeting even though I got to sit in the beanbag chair (Calories burned: 10. Mostly from sketching with lots of cross-hatching and poking Ben to make sure he didn't fall asleep. I have responsibilities.)

Complained about Glenn Beck (Calories burned: 5)

Only yelled at the radio once (Calories burned: 1)

Watched Grey's Anatomy (Calories burned: 600--that was hot.)

Broke a heel on my favorite mary janes and had to walk like my toe was broken again (Calories burned: 34)

Ate one Reese's Peanut Butter Egg and one Mint 3 Musketeers (from Famous Jay's candy sinkhole) to heal the extreme emotional pain of both breaking my shoes and revealing to my coworkers that I am awfully short. (Calories burned: -250)


Like, really short.


I think I need another spoonful of sugar.

The Most Interesting Things About Me Possible

Alright, so that was hyperbole (which I am given to) but here are some things about me that you absolutely must know:

1. I think I have writer’s block.

2. It feels like constipation.

3. I keep regular notes for when ideas come to me, as an insurance against The Block, and because I know that Janeane Garafalo, Jerry Seinfeld, and major literary authors also carry notes with them.

4. Perhaps milk of magnesia would work just as well.

5. I hate sleeping.

6. Sleep is boring and really unproductive. I want to figure out a way to never sleep and still function.

7. I like figuring out how things work.

8. This applies to not only simple mechanical objects, or systems, but all the sciences and the arts.

9. I’ve made a career in several fields by being able to facilitate communication between the social and the antisocial.

10. I love listening to people talk about what they do.

11. Comedian interviews are particular interesting; what makes something funny, what is the process, where are the edges?

12. I would be just as happy watching Conan O’Brien on the Actor’s Studio as reading about Schrödinger's Cat.

13. I often make allusions to obscure topics, not on purpose, but because I’m sure everyone else knows what I mean, too.

14. I’m continually surprised that they don’t.

15. Once, while teaching a lesson at my church, a woman asked me what the word 'pontificate' meant and I pretended like I didn’t hear her and kept going with the topic.

16. I belong to three book clubs and have been asked to join another one.

17. I’m afraid that my Other Half no longer thinks I’m ‘going to book club’ and believes it’s a cover for an affair—or worse.

18. Other Half does not read books, but this quiz is about me, so I will say that I’ve been accused by someone I live with as ‘always needing a plot’ when I read, which is ‘juvenile.’

19. I totally giggled when he said that.

20. People seriously do not understand our marriage, which is funny because it makes perfect sense to us.

21. One of my secret desires is to be a great matchmaker and I could not be further from that skill. I am terrible at setting people up, just awful.

22. I had absolutely no idea how much I would love being a mother, not a clue, and am amazed at how much I laugh.

23. I miss painting and drawing

24. Godiva chocolate is gross. No really, I don’t understand the big deal. I have been known to take a bite and throw the rest in the garbage. I am that picky about chocolate.

25. I would love to have people over every night of the week for late night talks over pie and warm drinks.

You’re invited.

So Busy

I've been so busy (how busy) that I haven't had enough time to blog! It couldn't be that I'm having problems coming up with something to write about, or that I'm stressed at work, or making something for the Nie auction, nope, it's that I'm busy! I'm scurrying to and fro, so busy, like some sort of woodland creature, but I'm too busy to pick which kind, so let's just say busy! I'm SO busy that I think I need to make today's post into bullet points for more efficient reading and built-in categorization.

• Day 5,000 of me making Soviet references at work passed today. For the count: I banged my shoe on the table once, and made two Five Year Plan jokes. Dead air. I will never learn.
• Another colleague found out that they are allowed to curse around me. I feel so happy that I'm able to provide them with a soft space to make such foul-mouthed remarks. I truly don't mind if you curse in front of me, I just ask that you do it well and with panache. Don't be lazy in your cursing, because that's boring (and makes you look brutish.)
• Even after the colleague indicated that I could swear as well, I didn't. Whoa. I tried to and the word just wouldn't come out of my mouth. It looks like trying not to cuss out loud for the past months actually worked. Hmm. I feel...good about this?
• The biggest problem with me making a bag for the Nie auction is that I get completely carried away with where this will take me. I'm sewing the bag and all of a sudden the person who buys it is walking down the street and people start gasping and pointing because they all want one as well. They absolutely have to have the name of the designer. I'm inundated with requests to make more, more, more and I have to start looking at outsourcing. The fame is dizzying but I'm handling it really well. I'm so grounded, yet fabulous. I'm guesting on Project Runway to host the challenge and special guest judge. And that's how I end up looking up Chinese factories online, troubleshooting outsourcing, and designing my label, all before I've even fused the interfacing and cut out the lining.
• Oh, would you look at that? It's almost 10:30, time for me to start sewing again or Project Runway is never going to call.

Notes From Two Mediums and a Specter

Before I could stop him, El Guille threw his ambulance into the tub to play with during a bath. So now, the ambulance is possessed. It will periodically start flashing and making WAP WAP ambulance noises.

In the middle of the night WAP WAP.

As I'm cutting out fabric, WAP WAP HONK HONK.

My nerves do not need this.

WAP WAP SIREN!


I'm a child of the 80s, possessed toys are scary.


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During the Jonas Brother's performance on the American Idol Finale:

Other Half: Is this a boy band or something?

A: No, WORSE!

OH: A pre-op band?

A: I believe they have a Disney channel show

OH: Who doesn't?

A: You.

OH: Who doesn't have one that WANTS one?


******************************************

Heard on the radio: "The Iraqi athletes on their way to Beijing may not be able to participate in the Olympics."


Are they literally on their way?



Like, they're on a slow boat to China?

Week in Review: Reptilia, Fermented Condiments, Action Shots, and Cruddy Counters

Ewww! Bugs!
Thanks to super-awesome Katy, El Guille got a special tour of the live animals at a local animal museum. His friend, the G-Meister, came along to show El Guille how it's done. He didn't want to touch any of the animals: snakes, lizards, millipedes, or spiders. I did talk him into touching the turtle. When we got home I told him he'd have to wash his hands before eating a sandwich.
"But, why?"
"Because sometimes animals have germs and so we should wash our hands before we eat."
"I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT TO TOUCH THEM and they have germs and I didn't want to touch them and YOU TOLD ME TO TOUCH THEM!"

Right. Maybe I should lay off the germs-talk before I have another Howard Hughes on my hands.

************************
Sarah K. and I slipped into a Korean restaurant on Saturday for some tasty lunching.

I love Octopi, they are delicious. I wish I'd been able to get a better picture of this tentacle before I devoured it, but I only had my cell phone. Haven't tried octopus? You're missing out.

I love talking to Sarah because we get each other on food. She is even more adventurous and principled than I am when it comes to food issues. On the table for discussion: Following the horrible videos of downed cows at a slaughterhouse in California, do we give up beef altogether? How can we trust the food supply (we can't) and what are our options? In between those weighty philosophical arguments, we debated how the potatoes, black beans, and purple rice were prepared. We agree that kimchi is divine and that the mark of a respectable grocery is a jar of the cabbage condiment.

The snowflakes fell on our heads as we walked to the library to find a book volume of organ music for Sarah. I felt like some strange impostor inside the university library, as if I was at once so much more worldly and knowledgeable than the poor co-eds, and then incredibly old.

*********************************

Hey, Proximo, why do you have that bruise on your forehead?

Oh, right, learning to walk is hard work.

*****************************************
Tonight I did the responsible, interactive parent thing and colored Easter eggs with El Guille. I can't believe I got a picture of El Guille doing the same tongue-sticking-out thing that I do while concentrating during crafting.


The thought of colored hard-boiled eggs is positively revolting to me. I remember peeling an egg that had been colored and seeing the color had seeped into the hardened white under the shell. DISGUSTING.

That's why we blow out the egg before coloring. It took a little more time and constant egg-bobbing, but El Guille loved flipping the eggs.

If I was feeling more crafty, and less overwhelmed with the volume of work-work I'm doing, I'd hang the marbled eggs in a cool arrangement in the window, or as some kind of mobile. As it is, I lowered the bar and put them into the empty egg carton. Yay us!

Tonight:

Me, after having been inspired by watching a spinach pie in the Greek style being prepared on the TV: Hey, would you eat spinach pie?

Other Half: Like, on a bet or something?

Yes…on a BET.

***********************************************

It snowed yesterday. Can we talk about this? It snowed yesterday! Great big fluffy flakes onto my peep-toe flats. It might snow again this week. I was so excited because it was fall and gorgeous outside all week. Other Half made some snarky remark about how it will be winter next week. I laughed and ignored him because having fall in September means that we should have more than a month of fall weather.

And then it snowed.

What’s that crunching sound? Oh, that’s me eating crow.

(Tastes like chicken.)

(Gross chicken.)

*************************************************************

I want to throw a fall-type party, but I don’t want to do the planning, or the house cleaning, or find a way to seat people in my tiny place. That’s why I think the best course of action is to ask you to throw a fall-type party and I can attend. I can bring food. Not the food, but some food—maybe even spinach pie that we can all dare each other to eat.

FYI, if you are thinking of turning the fall-type party into a Halloween party, please don't wear face paint, or ask other people to wear it, as the smell of face paint makes me want to hurl. That's the main reason that Proximo isn't going as the Sith Lord Darth Maul this year (also what kind of mom would I be to put grease paint on her baby? He doesn't sleep in a trunk, we aren’t vaudevillians, and no one's got a gimmick.)

*****************************************************************

Quick review of the new TV season:

1. Cane –about the Cuban-American family and their sugar cane and rum business. I just don’t know if I can get into it, the show lacks depth and has abundant melodramatic dialogue (you say that like it’s a bad thing!) Cane does have one of my most favorite things in the world: a Brit doing a really bad American accent. Polly Walker, of Enchanted April and Rome, is the offender. Her southern accent is freaking hilarious. I’ll give Cane one more shot. If it doesn’t hold up I’ll have to backfill Tuesday nights with something else…like 60 Minutes (don’t judge me.)
2. Big Shots – SHOOT ME NOW. I will give this show one more (little) shot, but rarely, rarely has such an odious, misogynistic piece of dramatics gotten on my bad side so quickly. Sample scene: Men complaining in a steam bath (don’t, don’t get me started) about their lives, their women problems, and one says, “Men: we’re the new women.” Shut your cake-hole Bobby Donnell!
3. Reaper – has potential. I’ll be tuning in to watch the slacker whose parents sold his soul to the devil. I liked the pilot, although it’s skewing a little young and male, I’m still interested.
4. Chuck – I’m in for a few more episodes.
5. Bionic Woman – SO fun! Katee Sackhoff was great as the Evil Bionic Woman. I’m in for the season.
6. Gossip Girl – Hi, I’m Azúcar, and I love soapy teen dramas. Gossip isn't as good as The OC, but it has potential.
7. Dirty, Sexy, Money – this show has IT. I love, love, love DSM and I’ve only seen one episode. I should have known right off the bat that if Peter Krause (Sports Night, Six Feet Under) was involved the show was going to be good. I was simply not prepared for how much I loved the pilot. It looks like Wednesday night is the new Thursday night.

This week Pushing Daisies premieres. I’ve heard so many cool things about this show that I can’t wait to check it out. Also out of the gates, seasons 2 for 30 Rock and Friday Night Lights. If you’ve never watched 30 Rock, maybe you should try out the premiere, it’s got Seinfeld! It’s got raisins! You like raisins!

My Baby Makes Me Want to Swear

Inspired by my own advice on Miggy's site, I decided to put Proximo to sleep awake instead of nursing him into oblivion. This was IT, I was steeling myself, he's going to cry it out. Or, at least, cry for a while. We let El Guille cry it out. It took four days. The first day was the worst, he cried for more than two hours. I remember going in an rubbing his back and talking with him every 10 minutes or so. It was terrible, but it worked.
I got ready for the same with Proximo. I put him down and he fussed. I left the room. Gird your loins! We're going to let that baby cry. Proximo let out a few small objections and fell asleep within three minutes. What in the...? I love that baby so much he makes me want to swear. Holy @#$%@#! &%$#!! He ROCKS!

For those of you looking for advice on making your baby sleep through or sleep on his own, don't look this direction. This baby is sleeping and I had nothing to do with it. It's all Proximo. He rocks so hard. Party on!

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Other Half: Hey, did you know when you bought my green and blue tie that they matched this shirt and pants so well?

Me: Well, I do try to stick with a specific color palette for you.

OH: You do?

Me: Yeah, that way there’s a chance, albeit a small one, that you’ll match yourself when you leave the house.

OH: Get out.

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On the recommendation of Sarah over at Hollywood Flakes, I tried Google Reader.

I love it. If you’ve got more than a couple blogs you check, it’s worth subscribing to them. Reader makes it easy to see when blogs are updated and takes you right to them. I usually take recommendations from Sarah, that’s how I got a fork stuck in my eye. She’s not kidding with that avatar. Thanks a lot, SF.

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I was watching a little of that Adam Sandler movie Spanglish the other night. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what bugged me about it when I first saw it. Then it occurred to me: Sandler is supposed to be a chef in the movie. He’s supposed to be a fancy-schmancy chef who’s worked his way up and has a couple of Michelin stars under his belt. The central conceit of the flick is that Sandler can’t communicate to his Spanish-speaking maid/nanny/housekeeper/hottie. I can suspend disbelief for a lot of things: Battlestar Galactica, Amelie, that Clay Aiken is straight. However, a chef in a kitchen that can’t speak Spanish? HOGWASH. A step too far, James L. Brooks, a step too far.

Unshun : Reshun

“Goodbye!” said my Mother-in-Law as she whisked El Guille off to the park.
“Get some sleep,” said her husband.
“NO,” said MIL, “Sleep OR do something that YOU want to do.”
Done and done. Since Other Half isn’t here to enforce sleeping (he’s such a hard-a) I am going to putter around the house, finish my overdue library book (I have a good excuse!) and maybe even blog.

First of all, there is a new commercial on TV starring the old BYU football coach LaVell Edwards. Maybe you don’t know LaVell; maybe you’re thinking, “LaVell??” It’s a Mountain West name thing (for more insight click here.) The commercial is for Accurate Hearing, a cutting edge hearing aid store (and by cutting edge I mean they have a fax machine AND a website.) Along with spotting minor celebrities in ads, I also love regional accents. The Utah-Idaho accent just tickles me. LaVell has a great Utah accent.
Here is how he says Accurate Hearing: Ack-rhett Hearing.

ISN’T THAT THE BEST? Don’t you MISS that Utah accent? Doesn’t it make you want to order some fry sauce? FETCH, YES!

It’s been the week of unexpected mail! A flow of marvelous prezzies has miraculously appeared from the North Country. Kristen sent me the most darling hand-knit cap and booties with white ribbon trim, a kick-a ducklings picture frame, and a cloth that she embroidered with a cupcake--how am I ever supposed to use that?! Trick question, I'm not. I think I will frame it.
April sent me the sweetest little rabbit booties with matching washcloths and, because she knows how gross my house is (holla!) a Smelly Jelly Downy Vanilla Lavender room scent. It smells like love, springtime, angels, and new hope (not to be confused with A New Hope, geek in the house, holla back!)
My digital camera is out of batteries so no pictures of the swag yet. Sarah sent us some Peeps paraphernalia and then disappeared to have her own baby. I think somebody else sent me something and I am forgetting to mention it...

I love having my MIL here. She whipped this house into shape—let me tell you what! I love having my MIL here, mostly. She has planned a meat-centered meal for every night. I’m not a vegetarian by any means, but I forget that for some people if there’s not a cooked animal on the table, it’s just not dinner! Still, I’m more of a eat meat sparingly kind of girl. I’m also the kind of girl who should just be grateful that someone else went to the store, paid out the cash for the groceries, and did the cooking. Fin.

MIL and husband were convinced that Sanjaya from American Idol is still on the show because India and Pakistan keep calling in to vote for him. They are big on conspiracies. It wasn’t until I explained that the producers have made it clear that the Indian subcontinent is not responsible that they calmed down a little. They were Up In Arms!

They get Up In Arms a lot and mostly over stuff that I am Up In Arms about as well—but on the completely opposite side. So having them here means I have to keep my yappy mouth shut, which is a TRIAL, people! It’s especially hard when they start going off on ‘Muslims’ and ‘illegals’ and what-have-you. Patience, grasshopper, I say to myself, this too shall pass. I have not had to watch any of the Fox News Channel yet, so that means it’s been a good visit.

Meanwhile, my house is looking spiffier, my pre-schooler is getting his soft-a totally spoiled, and we’re having roast beef for dinner.

Pterodactyl-like Sounds

Sometimes, when my three year old starts to whine and tosses himself on the floor, I'll take action (versus ignoring him.) I scrunch up my face into an evil mask of itself and emit a pterodactyl-like sound. I’ll repeat that sound every time he starts making noise until he stops whining and starts laughing. Frankly, it’s just because the whining is annoying to me and I figure if I’m annoyed, he should be as well.

I was watching this man tell his story about having his leg broken by a humpback whale. The best part was that he was using a little toy whale to show how the creature turned to attack him. “She turned, like this,” he said as he maneuvered the plastic toy.
Show me on the doll, sir.

This baby is a faker.

We didn’t leave the house this weekend on caution of “any minute” from the midwife (yeah, I don't know how I got to a 6 and 80% effaced without any contractions either, but I did.) As a consequence, I have cabin fever and am bored. If you’re in the mood for fun, call me, especially after 8. That sounded slutty. But I am serious. Cinn-a-stacks anyone?

I don’t mind my friends asking me how I’m doing, because I’ll tell them the truth. However, if strangers, or neighbors, random relatives, or people I don’t particularly care for ask me I want to punch them in the teeth. It’s especially the “you must be SO DONE with being pregnant” people with their phony smiles. Whatever, tools. I don’t want to synthesize how I’m feeling for you into a little nugget of polite response. The worst is when they try to carry the conversation farther than the initial exchange; that’s when I have to remember that people are being polite and are NOT TRYING to piss me off. I have to swallow the bubbles of fury, smile and play along—it’s like being named Miss Congeniality!

My road rage is at a peak. A Saturn cut me off the other day because I was slowing for a RED LIGHT so that he could get to the light 1 second faster. I have never wanted to crash my car into another car so much in my entire life. I sent an obscene gesture his direction but he didn’t see me—which made me want to drive faster, catch up to him, and repeat the distinction. I seriously had to have a conversation with myself where I mentioned that I was both pregnant and had a child in my very small car so that I didn’t crash into him. But I wanted to. A lot. Still do.

I need some book recommendations. Here are my stipulations:
1. No young adult (because I don’t feel like it right now.)
2. Must be available from the liberry, because I am poor.
3. Nothing from a series that isn’t done yet.
4. I need amusing, fun, thrilling, or completely enthralling—nothing ponderous—one of those books where you have to stay up till 4am to get to another chapter (‘cause guess what time I’ll be up to soon. Well, not that soon, the faker.)

Mini Update

I did NOT have a baby this weekend.

I DID finish this project.

Tonight I am going to make a baby sling (or two.) I will also ignore the laundry to be folded (too BORING.)

The other half DID clean and cleaned well.

My favorite director won his Oscar last night.

The Oscars ended up no better than pablum. I was very happy that Jennifer Hudson thanked Jennifer Holliday in her speech. If you feel like you need a recap, you should read this.

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I'm a little worried about my street cred. My little sister used my iTunes account to download a bunch of songs yesterday. It started out ok, a little Hellogoodbye, some Landon Pigg. Then I glanced at the screen to see her typing "Lindsay Lohan" into the search box.
NO.
YES.
It got worse. La Lohan was followed by Paris Hilton--not just one but TWO songs. Oh, the humiliation. To add insult to injury, Fergie was next (the Pea, not the Duchess.) When she next typed in "Kelly Osbourne" I was almost relieved. Lisha rounded off with some Gym Class Heroes and Lily Allen, bringing us back to the level of almost respectability.

Now I am worried about what iTunes will think of me. Am I going to get the starlet of the week recommended to me? Do I now fall into a particular marketing group that will generate nothing but Bubble-gum Whore pop as my ideal?