And, soon after the March 26th first pwnage of the year, comes the second.
This Friday (and NOT before then), I found out I had a tight Saturday night deadline. I worked until 10pm on Friday and from 9am to 11:30pm on Saturday, and barely made it. Just barely.
So far, statistically speaking, pwnages come when I've got major plans for the weekend. The first one dropped when I was supposed to drive an hour away to celebrate my grandfather and dad's birthdays which happened to be on the same day. This second one happened when I had lined up some fantastic eating opportunities with friends and a hobby class.
I'm expecting a third pwnage soon since I've been warned that I've been put on 3 big ugly projects simultaneously. But, it wouldn't be a pwnage if you KNEW when they would hit and exactly what your crazy schedule would be. No, that would just be called "having a lot of work to do." In true pwn-like fashion, these projects are massive, but I have NO IDEA when they will happen, what schedule I'll be on, and thus, what personal plans I can or cannot keep.
That whooshing you hear is the sound of my soul being flushed down the toilet.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Go-go Granny
I saw the coolest granny on the BART today.
She had a perfectly flipped out bob of blonde hair (not one speck of white), but you could tell from her face she was at least 80.
With an expert sense of balance, she "surfed" the train car as it lurched to the next stop, reading her fashion magazine the entire time (fantastic taste in literature). As the doors opened, she lept out and ran up the escalator stairs, light and sprightly.
What a testament to life after 60. Go granny!
She had a perfectly flipped out bob of blonde hair (not one speck of white), but you could tell from her face she was at least 80.
With an expert sense of balance, she "surfed" the train car as it lurched to the next stop, reading her fashion magazine the entire time (fantastic taste in literature). As the doors opened, she lept out and ran up the escalator stairs, light and sprightly.
What a testament to life after 60. Go granny!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Predator Island
Oprah recently re-aired a story about a special confinement center informally dubbed Predator Island, in the beautiful Puget Sound.
It’s a facility that houses sexual predators, 60% of which are child molesters. This is not a prison, however. The unique twist is that all these predators have already served their sentences, but a judge has assigned them to be civilly committed because they are too likely to re-offend. If these predators elect to go through treatment, and are declared “cured,” they can get off the island.
But why would they want to?
Oprah’s cameras panned around the facility and it seriously looks like a state-of-the-art dormitory. There are recreational rooms with brand new basketball courts, flat-screen tv’s, computers, libraries, comfortable beds, etc. This facility is not like a run-down nasty inner-city public school. It is pretty darn posh. Oh yeah, and free health-care!
If I ever find myself down-and-out and about to be homeless, I'm going to pretend to molest someone, plead guilty, and spend the rest of my life in ease and comfort, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Inmates can knit, sew, do woodworking, all kinds of hobbies. Sign me up!
It is reported that federal tax payers spend $165,000 per offender each year to put them up in these nice digs!
That just seems wrong to me. Why can’t we just chemically castrate them and then release them back into society? It would be so much cheaper and, *bonus* they would never offend again. Problem solved.
Just another case of our tax dollars “hard at work” subsidizing the Washington State economy. FAIL.
You can read more about this depressing topic here.
It’s a facility that houses sexual predators, 60% of which are child molesters. This is not a prison, however. The unique twist is that all these predators have already served their sentences, but a judge has assigned them to be civilly committed because they are too likely to re-offend. If these predators elect to go through treatment, and are declared “cured,” they can get off the island.
But why would they want to?
Oprah’s cameras panned around the facility and it seriously looks like a state-of-the-art dormitory. There are recreational rooms with brand new basketball courts, flat-screen tv’s, computers, libraries, comfortable beds, etc. This facility is not like a run-down nasty inner-city public school. It is pretty darn posh. Oh yeah, and free health-care!
If I ever find myself down-and-out and about to be homeless, I'm going to pretend to molest someone, plead guilty, and spend the rest of my life in ease and comfort, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Inmates can knit, sew, do woodworking, all kinds of hobbies. Sign me up!
It is reported that federal tax payers spend $165,000 per offender each year to put them up in these nice digs!
That just seems wrong to me. Why can’t we just chemically castrate them and then release them back into society? It would be so much cheaper and, *bonus* they would never offend again. Problem solved.
Just another case of our tax dollars “hard at work” subsidizing the Washington State economy. FAIL.
You can read more about this depressing topic here.
Not Cute
My outfit today is so sad. So dumpy, frumpy and just...sad.
To the untrained eye, I look like I'm wearing the exact same thing I wore yesterday. But in fact, everything's different except for the fuschia scarf around my neck.
The sameness is an illusion brought on by the fact that all my clothes are drabby. I don't wake up early enough to put together a thoughtful outfit and I don't fit into anything that I used to rely on. Sigh.
This clothing rut thing has become endemic ever since the belly started expanding. Now I know how mom-jeans begin. How getting behind in your fashion starts. And how women in their mid-thirties can end up looking like life has totally passed them by.
IT'S ALREADY BEGUN! ACK! SAVE YOURSELVES, IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME!
To the untrained eye, I look like I'm wearing the exact same thing I wore yesterday. But in fact, everything's different except for the fuschia scarf around my neck.
The sameness is an illusion brought on by the fact that all my clothes are drabby. I don't wake up early enough to put together a thoughtful outfit and I don't fit into anything that I used to rely on. Sigh.
This clothing rut thing has become endemic ever since the belly started expanding. Now I know how mom-jeans begin. How getting behind in your fashion starts. And how women in their mid-thirties can end up looking like life has totally passed them by.
IT'S ALREADY BEGUN! ACK! SAVE YOURSELVES, IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
The Why
Recently, a commenter left this message on an old post I wrote last year (in which I basically said I don't feel the need to have kids):
"Just reading your blog and I was wondering what happened to change your mind about having kids. I relate with this blog post, so was just curious about what moved you to change your mind (as I see from your more recent posts that you are expecting a baby)."
This is a great question. And actually I've been wondering this myself for the last couple weeks and wanted to post about it. So, gentle reader, your timing is impeccable.
Causation is a tricky animal and it has many forms. The glib and proximate cause of my deciding to have a kid was that, quite frankly, I wanted to go on maternity leave. I hope my employer is not reading this.
But really, that's not a good enough reason. The short-lived boon of maternity leave hardly outweighs the years of dedication and nurture it takes to raise a kid. But it did provide the perfect opportunity to execute on a plan that I felt was inevitable.
Even though I never had an urge to procreate, the spouse had an altogether different take on the matter. To say he was gung-ho about having kids would be like saying Tiger Woods is an a-hole--a huge understatement. In fact, anytime I would talk about a hypothetical future with no kids in it, I would see his face fall into the saddest puddle. So I knew. I knew, eventually, one day, the spouse had to have kids otherwise he'd be quite miserable, and I couldn't bear to be the cause of that.
And after all, having kids is a positive thing in general. It's a productive way to contribute to society--who else is going to pay for my medicare and social security benefits? It's also a humanizing experience, an opportunity to learn more about the human and the divine.
It's not something I would've jumped into myself, but heck, it's not a bad thing and it makes at least one person in this world very happy. I'll never forget the day I decided to take the plunge and not take my contraceptive pill for the first time in 6 years. It was scary. I had to have my mom talk me through it. "Really mom? You think I should do this? Really? You think now is a good time?" Doubts, doubts, and more doubts.
But you know the deep irony of having a kid? I've only begun to realize this myself--the little bugger comes with it's own "don't worry, just love me" hormone package. It's like what everyone, including my mother, told me would happen--when you realize you are having a kid, something naturally kicks in. All of a sudden, my years of apathy has turned into complete and utter excitement and unadulterated joy.
After years of weighing the pros and cons of child-rearing, I can no longer see the cons. The downside has miraculously and deliriously disappeared. Somehow, it's as if half my brain has melted away, overtaken by this baby hormonal craziness. Amazing how nature just hijacks you both physically and emotionally.
I don't even know myself anymore. Whatever happened to the person who, just one year ago, thought having a kid would be a total drag? Who looked at young moms with pity and a sense of relief that that was not me.
Apparently, this alien invasion is complete. I'm overcome, body, mind and soul.
"Just reading your blog and I was wondering what happened to change your mind about having kids. I relate with this blog post, so was just curious about what moved you to change your mind (as I see from your more recent posts that you are expecting a baby)."
This is a great question. And actually I've been wondering this myself for the last couple weeks and wanted to post about it. So, gentle reader, your timing is impeccable.
Causation is a tricky animal and it has many forms. The glib and proximate cause of my deciding to have a kid was that, quite frankly, I wanted to go on maternity leave. I hope my employer is not reading this.
But really, that's not a good enough reason. The short-lived boon of maternity leave hardly outweighs the years of dedication and nurture it takes to raise a kid. But it did provide the perfect opportunity to execute on a plan that I felt was inevitable.
Even though I never had an urge to procreate, the spouse had an altogether different take on the matter. To say he was gung-ho about having kids would be like saying Tiger Woods is an a-hole--a huge understatement. In fact, anytime I would talk about a hypothetical future with no kids in it, I would see his face fall into the saddest puddle. So I knew. I knew, eventually, one day, the spouse had to have kids otherwise he'd be quite miserable, and I couldn't bear to be the cause of that.
And after all, having kids is a positive thing in general. It's a productive way to contribute to society--who else is going to pay for my medicare and social security benefits? It's also a humanizing experience, an opportunity to learn more about the human and the divine.
It's not something I would've jumped into myself, but heck, it's not a bad thing and it makes at least one person in this world very happy. I'll never forget the day I decided to take the plunge and not take my contraceptive pill for the first time in 6 years. It was scary. I had to have my mom talk me through it. "Really mom? You think I should do this? Really? You think now is a good time?" Doubts, doubts, and more doubts.
But you know the deep irony of having a kid? I've only begun to realize this myself--the little bugger comes with it's own "don't worry, just love me" hormone package. It's like what everyone, including my mother, told me would happen--when you realize you are having a kid, something naturally kicks in. All of a sudden, my years of apathy has turned into complete and utter excitement and unadulterated joy.
After years of weighing the pros and cons of child-rearing, I can no longer see the cons. The downside has miraculously and deliriously disappeared. Somehow, it's as if half my brain has melted away, overtaken by this baby hormonal craziness. Amazing how nature just hijacks you both physically and emotionally.
I don't even know myself anymore. Whatever happened to the person who, just one year ago, thought having a kid would be a total drag? Who looked at young moms with pity and a sense of relief that that was not me.
Apparently, this alien invasion is complete. I'm overcome, body, mind and soul.
Friday, April 09, 2010
Annoyed
Today I'm going to b*tch about my client.
My stupid client, who sent out an email last night at 10:30PM--that's bedtime people--to schedule a conference call for the next morning at 8:30AM.
That's a wierd time, 8:30AM. Most people wait until 9 before requiring good folks to be in their offices. (But most folks don't actually come in until 9:30, shhhhhh.) This client is on West Coast time as well so there is no good reason to schedule an IMPROMPTU meeting that early. Really. No reason.
But here's the kicker folks!
The same crazy client then CANCELS the scheduled meeting at precisely 8:16AM in the morning, a mere 14 minutes before we were supposed to get on the call. YOU CANNOT SET UP A CALL AT A WIERD HOUR WITH LITTLE NOTICE AND THEN CANCEL IT!!!
I won't get into the varied and sundry ways this messed up my morning commute. But it was very very annoying. Let's just say it involved paying 6 extra bucks for parking, a LOT of panicking, and no time to put "my face" on.
My stupid client, who sent out an email last night at 10:30PM--that's bedtime people--to schedule a conference call for the next morning at 8:30AM.
That's a wierd time, 8:30AM. Most people wait until 9 before requiring good folks to be in their offices. (But most folks don't actually come in until 9:30, shhhhhh.) This client is on West Coast time as well so there is no good reason to schedule an IMPROMPTU meeting that early. Really. No reason.
But here's the kicker folks!
The same crazy client then CANCELS the scheduled meeting at precisely 8:16AM in the morning, a mere 14 minutes before we were supposed to get on the call. YOU CANNOT SET UP A CALL AT A WIERD HOUR WITH LITTLE NOTICE AND THEN CANCEL IT!!!
I won't get into the varied and sundry ways this messed up my morning commute. But it was very very annoying. Let's just say it involved paying 6 extra bucks for parking, a LOT of panicking, and no time to put "my face" on.
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
And He Talks Too!
I don't talk about the spouse much, but I just have to post this video of him talking about our new church start-up in the East Bay.
Each time I watch it (and I've watched it a lot), I just want to pinch his cute little cheeks and plant a huge smooch on my computer screen. Who cares what he's saying in the video. Just kidding. Of course I think the content is great too.
It's been over 11 years since we first dated and 7 years since we got hitched, but he's only gotten more adorable over time. Okay, I know, TMI. See, that's why I shouldn't write about the spouse. I'd make y'all gag!
Each time I watch it (and I've watched it a lot), I just want to pinch his cute little cheeks and plant a huge smooch on my computer screen. Who cares what he's saying in the video. Just kidding. Of course I think the content is great too.
It's been over 11 years since we first dated and 7 years since we got hitched, but he's only gotten more adorable over time. Okay, I know, TMI. See, that's why I shouldn't write about the spouse. I'd make y'all gag!
Friday, April 02, 2010
Evil Friday
It was midnight in the garden of good and evil,
And evil prevailed.
As I was sleeping soundly, swaddled in down and cotton,
He was sweating blood.
As I awoke to morning coffee and a rerun of Oprah,
He was unjustly accused and flogged.
As I rode the subway, trying to avoid the snotty, sniffly guy beside me,
He shouldered a heavy beam down dusty streets, now mixed with blood.
As I sit in my temperature controlled office, surfing the web,
He hung there.
All day I will draft contracts and surf the web and worry about pleasing the bosses,
And all day he will hang there in agony.
Why should I gain from his reward?
And evil prevailed.
As I was sleeping soundly, swaddled in down and cotton,
He was sweating blood.
As I awoke to morning coffee and a rerun of Oprah,
He was unjustly accused and flogged.
As I rode the subway, trying to avoid the snotty, sniffly guy beside me,
He shouldered a heavy beam down dusty streets, now mixed with blood.
As I sit in my temperature controlled office, surfing the web,
He hung there.
All day I will draft contracts and surf the web and worry about pleasing the bosses,
And all day he will hang there in agony.
Why should I gain from his reward?
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Can I Just Register for Clothes?
Now that I know I'm having a boy, I've been perusing infant boy clothes on the interwebz. Since it's no longer fun to shop for myself (I refuse to buy expensive maternity clothes, and it's no fun buying cheapy versions)...it's time to shop for my boy.
I love the doodling-feel of this cartoon onesie, perfect for a summer baby (Old Navy):
and this preppy little patchwork romper (bonus points cuz it's not blue!) (also Old Navy, I think):
I also find jokey-onesies hard to resist (Old Navy):
Here's a jokey-onesie for mommy (some t-shirt site):
And one for daddy! (same t-shirt site)
I love the doodling-feel of this cartoon onesie, perfect for a summer baby (Old Navy):
and this preppy little patchwork romper (bonus points cuz it's not blue!) (also Old Navy, I think):
I also find jokey-onesies hard to resist (Old Navy):
Here's a jokey-onesie for mommy (some t-shirt site):
And one for daddy! (same t-shirt site)
Monday, March 29, 2010
Peon-0; Firm-1
I've decided to keep score.
I'm going to count and record all the times my job unexpectedly pwns my weekend or vacation.
Last weekend is Pwnage #1 of 2010. I got a warning Friday morning that an assignment will drop in my inbox at around 5pm that day. And I'll, unfortunately, have to work for about 10 hours on the weekend to finish it up.
The irony is the document did not come in Friday night. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. But I still cleared my schedule and lived like I was under house arrest.
Okay, truth be told, it wasn't that bad. I still went shopping, played board games, visited a friend, and ran errands. But if the circumstances were different, it could've been a total disaster!
In other news--I got really depressed this weekend thinking about how my days of freedom and frolicking on a whim are soon to be over. With an infant, it will no longer be possible to live a care-free, unfettered existence. :-(
I'm going to count and record all the times my job unexpectedly pwns my weekend or vacation.
Last weekend is Pwnage #1 of 2010. I got a warning Friday morning that an assignment will drop in my inbox at around 5pm that day. And I'll, unfortunately, have to work for about 10 hours on the weekend to finish it up.
The irony is the document did not come in Friday night. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. But I still cleared my schedule and lived like I was under house arrest.
Okay, truth be told, it wasn't that bad. I still went shopping, played board games, visited a friend, and ran errands. But if the circumstances were different, it could've been a total disaster!
In other news--I got really depressed this weekend thinking about how my days of freedom and frolicking on a whim are soon to be over. With an infant, it will no longer be possible to live a care-free, unfettered existence. :-(
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Just As I Suspected...
Well, it came and went, the big gender revealing ultrasound.
It is, as I hoped, as I intuited from the beginning, a boy! At least that's what the technician assured me. She said it was definitely, definitely a boy. I said, really? How can you tell? Because seriously, other than seeing some vertebrae and fingers at certain points, everything else just looked like blobby fuzz to me.
I am, much to the spouse's frustration, severely directionally and spatially challenged. So trying to make out what was appearing on the screen was like telling a dyslexic monkey to write backwards while looking in a mirror.
The technician would point out different body parts--see, there's the kidneys--and I would feign understanding with a weak--oh, yeah, uh huh. But really, in all truth, I had no idea what I was looking at. It didn't help that the fetus was moving around like a astronaut in zero gravity--doing flips and somersaults constantly. I guess I drank too much coffee and sugary fruit juice beforehand (deliberately) so I could be sure that it moved enough for us to peer into its privates.
Here's a pic of him with his feet in the air, attempting a back flip.
I never realized how anxiety prone the whole experience would be though. I thought we'd check out the gender real quick, get some measurements and breeze outta there. Instead it took over an hour as the technician catalogued every major organ and made sure all the limbs were present. I found myself holding my breath for long periods until the technician would say, "all there" or "all normal."
Thankfully, so far, so good.
It is, as I hoped, as I intuited from the beginning, a boy! At least that's what the technician assured me. She said it was definitely, definitely a boy. I said, really? How can you tell? Because seriously, other than seeing some vertebrae and fingers at certain points, everything else just looked like blobby fuzz to me.
I am, much to the spouse's frustration, severely directionally and spatially challenged. So trying to make out what was appearing on the screen was like telling a dyslexic monkey to write backwards while looking in a mirror.
The technician would point out different body parts--see, there's the kidneys--and I would feign understanding with a weak--oh, yeah, uh huh. But really, in all truth, I had no idea what I was looking at. It didn't help that the fetus was moving around like a astronaut in zero gravity--doing flips and somersaults constantly. I guess I drank too much coffee and sugary fruit juice beforehand (deliberately) so I could be sure that it moved enough for us to peer into its privates.
Here's a pic of him with his feet in the air, attempting a back flip.
I never realized how anxiety prone the whole experience would be though. I thought we'd check out the gender real quick, get some measurements and breeze outta there. Instead it took over an hour as the technician catalogued every major organ and made sure all the limbs were present. I found myself holding my breath for long periods until the technician would say, "all there" or "all normal."
Thankfully, so far, so good.
Poop
I heard the best quote today on NPR.
They were doing some story about a laid off dad who now spends everyday at home with his infant, which he really enjoys. And then the narrator said something like, but every situation has its downside...
"Poop," said the dad's voice, "Poop is the major downside."
[End scene]
I laughed hysterically. That is pure poetry.
They were doing some story about a laid off dad who now spends everyday at home with his infant, which he really enjoys. And then the narrator said something like, but every situation has its downside...
"Poop," said the dad's voice, "Poop is the major downside."
[End scene]
I laughed hysterically. That is pure poetry.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
By the way
I just have to say 2 things really quickly.
(1) It is really unbelievable how often I need to pee. Un-freaking-believeable. Literally, I've gone 4 times in the last hour, and that's when I'm really really holding back and waiting until I feel like I'm going to burst. (Even now, as I write this, I'm debating whether to suck it up or make it 5 times before the hour's up!) And I didn't even drink any water yet! I hear this alarming trend is only going to worsen as the bladder gets ever more squished. In which case, I will just shoot myself. Or get really really dehydrated in an attempt to stay at my desk.
(2) It's so funny to live in a land of "quarter-clothing". I have clothes that only fit me during my first trimester. Different clothes that will fit me correctly in the second trimester (which are not maternity, just loose and long normal clothes). And clothes that will only fit in the third trimester (cuz they're too huge and tent-like prior to). And then, of course infant clothes follows the same 3 month schemes from 0-3, 3-6, 6-9, and 9-12. I'm so used to buying "classic" clothing that will stand the test of time. So it's just wierd to think of clothing as so short-lived it can't even survive half a year. Wierd and kinda' wasteful.
(1) It is really unbelievable how often I need to pee. Un-freaking-believeable. Literally, I've gone 4 times in the last hour, and that's when I'm really really holding back and waiting until I feel like I'm going to burst. (Even now, as I write this, I'm debating whether to suck it up or make it 5 times before the hour's up!) And I didn't even drink any water yet! I hear this alarming trend is only going to worsen as the bladder gets ever more squished. In which case, I will just shoot myself. Or get really really dehydrated in an attempt to stay at my desk.
(2) It's so funny to live in a land of "quarter-clothing". I have clothes that only fit me during my first trimester. Different clothes that will fit me correctly in the second trimester (which are not maternity, just loose and long normal clothes). And clothes that will only fit in the third trimester (cuz they're too huge and tent-like prior to). And then, of course infant clothes follows the same 3 month schemes from 0-3, 3-6, 6-9, and 9-12. I'm so used to buying "classic" clothing that will stand the test of time. So it's just wierd to think of clothing as so short-lived it can't even survive half a year. Wierd and kinda' wasteful.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Boiz v. Goyls
I don’t know why this Wednesday is such a big deal to me.
I’ve been awaiting it eagerly for 10 weeks now and it’s kind of driving me crazy with anticipation.
Why does it matter so much to me to find out the fetus’ gender? Both genders have their trade-offs and luckily I live in a society that doesn’t limit the potential of either one.
Girls
Are calmer, less rowdy, easier to watch over
(But are insane drama queens during puberty)
Have much prettier clothes
Are more nurturing as adults
The spouse would slightly prefer a girl over a boy
Boys
Are emotionally less complicated than girls
Would fulfill my long-held desire to have a mini-version of the spouse, complete with matching outfits.
Little man clothes are really cute
I guess in my more lucid and introspective moments, I’d admit it’s such a big deal to me cuz deep down, I want a boy slightly more than a girl. Girls kinda freak me out. I'm afraid of them. They are mysterious creatures who have befuddled me throughout my life. They often don’t say what they mean and don’t mean what they say. They are sweet one day and cold the next. They make passive aggressiveness an art form. They get angry at me and I have no idea why--and it’s worse to ask. And I just never know if I’m coming or going.
I need explicitness. I need logic and reason and bluntness. I’ve always found guys to be refreshingly obvious and, well, simple (in a good way). Although they can be frustratingly non-verbal, at least you always know where you stand with them. If they are not cool with you, they’ll tell you so, to your face, and they’ll tell you exactly why. And they have such simple needs--to be fed, to be praised, and to be, uh, exercised…much like a household pet.
But it’s not that I’ll be disappointed if it’s a girl. I’ll just need a little more mental preparation to embrace the idea, I suppose.
And in other news, the belly continues to protrude. 4 weeks later, it’s still not that big, but definitely grew. It’s like a reverse before-and-after diet picture. Now none of my old pants fit at all. I officially live in a land of no zippers.
I’ve been awaiting it eagerly for 10 weeks now and it’s kind of driving me crazy with anticipation.
Why does it matter so much to me to find out the fetus’ gender? Both genders have their trade-offs and luckily I live in a society that doesn’t limit the potential of either one.
Girls
Are calmer, less rowdy, easier to watch over
(But are insane drama queens during puberty)
Have much prettier clothes
Are more nurturing as adults
The spouse would slightly prefer a girl over a boy
Boys
Are emotionally less complicated than girls
Would fulfill my long-held desire to have a mini-version of the spouse, complete with matching outfits.
Little man clothes are really cute
I guess in my more lucid and introspective moments, I’d admit it’s such a big deal to me cuz deep down, I want a boy slightly more than a girl. Girls kinda freak me out. I'm afraid of them. They are mysterious creatures who have befuddled me throughout my life. They often don’t say what they mean and don’t mean what they say. They are sweet one day and cold the next. They make passive aggressiveness an art form. They get angry at me and I have no idea why--and it’s worse to ask. And I just never know if I’m coming or going.
I need explicitness. I need logic and reason and bluntness. I’ve always found guys to be refreshingly obvious and, well, simple (in a good way). Although they can be frustratingly non-verbal, at least you always know where you stand with them. If they are not cool with you, they’ll tell you so, to your face, and they’ll tell you exactly why. And they have such simple needs--to be fed, to be praised, and to be, uh, exercised…much like a household pet.
But it’s not that I’ll be disappointed if it’s a girl. I’ll just need a little more mental preparation to embrace the idea, I suppose.
And in other news, the belly continues to protrude. 4 weeks later, it’s still not that big, but definitely grew. It’s like a reverse before-and-after diet picture. Now none of my old pants fit at all. I officially live in a land of no zippers.
Bonus points to anyone who can guess the gender just by looking at the belly! Taking bets until Wednesday 5pm PST.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Four Entries for the Price of One
So I've had some random-ish thoughts lately, which apparently, I just HAVE to share:
Random Thought #1: How I Lost Out on Making Thousands of Dollars on Sunday
Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, uninitiative, passive me. Why oh why can’t I think more like Warren Buffet and less like, well, like my unambitious self. Once again, for the 2nd time in my life, I’ve passed up on a sure bet. A Sure Bet.
I know that sounds like a Vegas-junkie talking to his rehab counselor, but seriously, it was a sure bet. I just saw Roger Ebert on Oprah give his predictions for the Oscar winners TWO days before the awards show and he said it was the easiest Oscars for him to predict, ever. EVER. The man has been doing this for a very long time. And of course, every single one of his predictions came true--best supporting actress, best supporting actor, best actor, best actress, best director, and best picture.
I’m tearing up as I type this. I could’ve bet money on each of these categories and become a pretty rich lady. Sigh.
Random side note--Did you know Ebert married a wonderful black lady named Chaz? They are the cutest couple.
Random Thought #2: Will Gabourey Ever Work (as a lead) Again?
Howard Stern says Gabourey is “enormous” and will never be in another movie. As crass and unnecessarily vicious as Stern sounds (trust me, I did not quote the worst of it), weren’t we all wondering that same thing? What kind of roles will she get in the future? Starring roles? Best actress nomination roles? I’m not saying she’ll never work as an actress again, but she won’t be up for the lead role.
Sadly, I think the most she may be nominated for again is best supporting actress. Since when has a plump girl ever been nominated for best actress? Even the slightly fluffy ones don’t get lead roles--Jennifer Hudson, Mo’nique (okay, Kathy Bates is an exception), but you get the idea. But maybe, just maybe they’ll make Precious, the sequel.
Random Thought #3: The Right to Know Who We Are
There are 2 shows about to premier featuring celebrities tracing their ancestry and tearing up in front of the camera, so moved are they to find out their lineage. Although, at first, such detective work seems like the ultimate act of narcissism, I’ve now come to appreciate how strongly our identity is linked to the family members who came before us. We are not an island, shaping our identities from a tabula rasa. We have histories and traits and imprints that have begun shaping us before we even grew to be self-aware. That’s why people universally want to know and are so moved when they find out about their family histories. They are finding out about themselves. I imagine it is the burning question of all adopted children at some point in their lives--who are my birth parents?
Which makes having children through anonymous sperm donation all the more tragic and heartbreaking. Out of ignorance (at best) and delusion (at worst), the women who choose to have kids through anonymous donors are cheating their children out of a fundamental human right--to know who they are. It made me think of this story I read years ago, written by a child of just such a union.
(Not So) Random Thought #4: Name Pains
So, naturally, people have been asking the spouse and I if we have any names picked out for the child. At first we blithely blabbed the names we liked (well, the one name we liked) to anyone. But after being given faces of discouragement (ranging from confusion to down right disgust, DISGUST I tell you) we’ve given up.
Not on the name, but on telling people. Of course it’s a bit of a Catch-22. Maybe everyone’s right and the name we picked does suck. If we don’t take into account the critical comments we might end up damning our kid forever with a bad name. But if we do take into account all the criticism we’ll, well, get an earful of criticism that is just plain annoying.
Actually, people can change their names, so I’m not so concerned about saddling my kid with a bad name from birth.
Random Thought #1: How I Lost Out on Making Thousands of Dollars on Sunday
Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, uninitiative, passive me. Why oh why can’t I think more like Warren Buffet and less like, well, like my unambitious self. Once again, for the 2nd time in my life, I’ve passed up on a sure bet. A Sure Bet.
I know that sounds like a Vegas-junkie talking to his rehab counselor, but seriously, it was a sure bet. I just saw Roger Ebert on Oprah give his predictions for the Oscar winners TWO days before the awards show and he said it was the easiest Oscars for him to predict, ever. EVER. The man has been doing this for a very long time. And of course, every single one of his predictions came true--best supporting actress, best supporting actor, best actor, best actress, best director, and best picture.
I’m tearing up as I type this. I could’ve bet money on each of these categories and become a pretty rich lady. Sigh.
Random side note--Did you know Ebert married a wonderful black lady named Chaz? They are the cutest couple.
Random Thought #2: Will Gabourey Ever Work (as a lead) Again?
Howard Stern says Gabourey is “enormous” and will never be in another movie. As crass and unnecessarily vicious as Stern sounds (trust me, I did not quote the worst of it), weren’t we all wondering that same thing? What kind of roles will she get in the future? Starring roles? Best actress nomination roles? I’m not saying she’ll never work as an actress again, but she won’t be up for the lead role.
Sadly, I think the most she may be nominated for again is best supporting actress. Since when has a plump girl ever been nominated for best actress? Even the slightly fluffy ones don’t get lead roles--Jennifer Hudson, Mo’nique (okay, Kathy Bates is an exception), but you get the idea. But maybe, just maybe they’ll make Precious, the sequel.
Random Thought #3: The Right to Know Who We Are
There are 2 shows about to premier featuring celebrities tracing their ancestry and tearing up in front of the camera, so moved are they to find out their lineage. Although, at first, such detective work seems like the ultimate act of narcissism, I’ve now come to appreciate how strongly our identity is linked to the family members who came before us. We are not an island, shaping our identities from a tabula rasa. We have histories and traits and imprints that have begun shaping us before we even grew to be self-aware. That’s why people universally want to know and are so moved when they find out about their family histories. They are finding out about themselves. I imagine it is the burning question of all adopted children at some point in their lives--who are my birth parents?
Which makes having children through anonymous sperm donation all the more tragic and heartbreaking. Out of ignorance (at best) and delusion (at worst), the women who choose to have kids through anonymous donors are cheating their children out of a fundamental human right--to know who they are. It made me think of this story I read years ago, written by a child of just such a union.
(Not So) Random Thought #4: Name Pains
So, naturally, people have been asking the spouse and I if we have any names picked out for the child. At first we blithely blabbed the names we liked (well, the one name we liked) to anyone. But after being given faces of discouragement (ranging from confusion to down right disgust, DISGUST I tell you) we’ve given up.
Not on the name, but on telling people. Of course it’s a bit of a Catch-22. Maybe everyone’s right and the name we picked does suck. If we don’t take into account the critical comments we might end up damning our kid forever with a bad name. But if we do take into account all the criticism we’ll, well, get an earful of criticism that is just plain annoying.
Actually, people can change their names, so I’m not so concerned about saddling my kid with a bad name from birth.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Spoil Sport
The Conversation in the Car While Spouse Drove Me to the Subway Station this Morning:
Spouse: How are you going to avoid finding out who won the women's figure skating competition today?
Me: I'm not going to check any news sites today. Or even go on FB. It's a total shutdown of information until I watch the Tivo tonight.
Spouse: Why didn't you just watch it this morning?
Me: I thought you'd want to watch it with me.
Spouse: Nah, boring. I don't care.
Me: That's cuz you accidentally already found out who won.
Spouse: No, I really don't care. I only want to watch short-track.
Me: Short-track is crazy cuz the Koreans are on fire. But too bad the women's relay team got robbed of that gold medal!
Spouse: Well, Koreans don't feel too bad now because...
Me: Because...
Spouse: *Silence*
Me: BECAUSE KIM YU-NA WON GOLD?!?!?! Thanks a lot spoiler!
Spouse: How are you going to avoid finding out who won the women's figure skating competition today?
Me: I'm not going to check any news sites today. Or even go on FB. It's a total shutdown of information until I watch the Tivo tonight.
Spouse: Why didn't you just watch it this morning?
Me: I thought you'd want to watch it with me.
Spouse: Nah, boring. I don't care.
Me: That's cuz you accidentally already found out who won.
Spouse: No, I really don't care. I only want to watch short-track.
Me: Short-track is crazy cuz the Koreans are on fire. But too bad the women's relay team got robbed of that gold medal!
Spouse: Well, Koreans don't feel too bad now because...
Me: Because...
Spouse: *Silence*
Me: BECAUSE KIM YU-NA WON GOLD?!?!?! Thanks a lot spoiler!
Monday, February 22, 2010
How to Smuggle a Watermelon in Your Shirt
So the belly has finally grown to a point where I'm starting to actually look pregnant (instead of just dumpy).
But what a difference the right, strategically cut, clothing makes! In this outfit here (which I wore to work today) I look exactly the same as when I wasn't pregnant!
But in this outfit, clearly, the jig is up.
Time to diligently rub that stretch cream on daily. Does anyone recommend any good creams? I've been using Mustela cuz I love the smell and someone highly recommended it to me, but it's kind of pricey. I tried Palmer's Cocoa Butter, but it smells too awful.
In other news, I've met the first of several babies recently born to my childhood friends. Here's me and little Isaac, just 2 weeks old, developmentally speaking (he's been out of the womb for at least 7 weeks).
My goal is to knit a special little item for each of my friend's babies. Here's Isaac's little cardigan cuz his mom said she likes the color green.
I don't think there's anything closer to heaven on earth than holding a newborn baby. Even when he was grunting strenuously as he pooped in my arms. So sweet. So stinky, yet so sweet.
But what a difference the right, strategically cut, clothing makes! In this outfit here (which I wore to work today) I look exactly the same as when I wasn't pregnant!
But in this outfit, clearly, the jig is up.
Time to diligently rub that stretch cream on daily. Does anyone recommend any good creams? I've been using Mustela cuz I love the smell and someone highly recommended it to me, but it's kind of pricey. I tried Palmer's Cocoa Butter, but it smells too awful.
In other news, I've met the first of several babies recently born to my childhood friends. Here's me and little Isaac, just 2 weeks old, developmentally speaking (he's been out of the womb for at least 7 weeks).
My goal is to knit a special little item for each of my friend's babies. Here's Isaac's little cardigan cuz his mom said she likes the color green.
I don't think there's anything closer to heaven on earth than holding a newborn baby. Even when he was grunting strenuously as he pooped in my arms. So sweet. So stinky, yet so sweet.
Friday, February 19, 2010
My Team, My Self
Whenever the spouse meets an Asian American, he likes to use this litmus test for national identity to find out if the AA considers himself or herself more Asian or more American--Which team do you cheer for in the Olympics?
For me, I find myself innately cheering for team USA, and then, if there are no US athletes, team China.
For the spouse, it's team Korea all the way. US can take silver.
It's natural for the Olympics to be a proxy for national pride--countries battle it out to be the best in somewhat healthy (at least nonviolent) competition.
Which makes it all the wierder when athletes compete for countries they do not call home. I just read about the Reed Family, which has 3 Winter Olympic siblings. Although they grew up in the US and live in New Jersey, 2 kids ice-dance for Japan and 1 for the Republic of Georgia!
The Japanese connection is not so far-fetched as the mom is Japanese. But Georgia? What the...?
Allison Reed started training with her Georgian partner last May and now holds dual citizenship with the foreign country, to which she has no other ties.
Doesn't that defeat the whole point of the Olympics? I realize that athletes just want to compete at the highest level they can, but so much for representing your country!
For me, I find myself innately cheering for team USA, and then, if there are no US athletes, team China.
For the spouse, it's team Korea all the way. US can take silver.
It's natural for the Olympics to be a proxy for national pride--countries battle it out to be the best in somewhat healthy (at least nonviolent) competition.
Which makes it all the wierder when athletes compete for countries they do not call home. I just read about the Reed Family, which has 3 Winter Olympic siblings. Although they grew up in the US and live in New Jersey, 2 kids ice-dance for Japan and 1 for the Republic of Georgia!
The Japanese connection is not so far-fetched as the mom is Japanese. But Georgia? What the...?
Allison Reed started training with her Georgian partner last May and now holds dual citizenship with the foreign country, to which she has no other ties.
Doesn't that defeat the whole point of the Olympics? I realize that athletes just want to compete at the highest level they can, but so much for representing your country!
Friday, February 12, 2010
No Substitute
You may have seen in the news how Ellen DeGeneres is the new queen of talk.Ever since Oprah has announced that her talkshow days are numbered, reports have been made public that Ellen's ratings are just as good as Oprah's. Ellen is destined to ascend the throne.
But I object. Ellen is nothing like Oprah and her show is nothing like Oprah's show. She'll never be a substitute because they are apples and oranges.
Ellen is upbeat, goofy, silly. Oprah can be fun, but she also has gravitas. Heck, Oprah has indepth interviews with child molesters and asks them to describe what they've done in graphic detail. Ellen couldn't touch that.
There's still going to be a huge gaping hole in the talk show world when Oprah leaves.
Buttonless Zip and Doctorless Gig
Today is the first day I can't button my pants.
I went to work with a tunic-length shirt on and my casual Friday jeans mostly zipped up. I guess I feel proud?
I'm a little peeved that my doctor cancelled our once-a-month appointment. Her next available appt is 2 weeks later. That's an eon in nervous-pregnant-woman years. I can't wait 2 weeks to find out whether the fetus is still alive and kicking!
So I did what I had done last time when the doctor was too busy--I scheduled an appt with her nurse. I've never met my doctor and I'm beginning to wonder if I ever will.
Really, who cares if I never meet the doctor. I hear that the person who delivers your baby is usually not your doctor anyway since your delivery date is so uncertain. Did you know that only 5% of babies are born on their actual delivery date?
I just think doctors are so unecessary in the medical profession in general. We probably only need 1 doctor for every 9 nurses. Everytime I've gone to the "doctor's" since the age of 12, I've never seen a doctor--only nurses. And if you do see a doctor, I'm sure it's only for 5 minutes while the nurse preps you, and posts you, or whatever.
My doctor will probably never see me and won't deliver my baby, but will probably pocket a significant chunk of the payment for services. What a gig!
I went to work with a tunic-length shirt on and my casual Friday jeans mostly zipped up. I guess I feel proud?
I'm a little peeved that my doctor cancelled our once-a-month appointment. Her next available appt is 2 weeks later. That's an eon in nervous-pregnant-woman years. I can't wait 2 weeks to find out whether the fetus is still alive and kicking!
So I did what I had done last time when the doctor was too busy--I scheduled an appt with her nurse. I've never met my doctor and I'm beginning to wonder if I ever will.
Really, who cares if I never meet the doctor. I hear that the person who delivers your baby is usually not your doctor anyway since your delivery date is so uncertain. Did you know that only 5% of babies are born on their actual delivery date?
I just think doctors are so unecessary in the medical profession in general. We probably only need 1 doctor for every 9 nurses. Everytime I've gone to the "doctor's" since the age of 12, I've never seen a doctor--only nurses. And if you do see a doctor, I'm sure it's only for 5 minutes while the nurse preps you, and posts you, or whatever.
My doctor will probably never see me and won't deliver my baby, but will probably pocket a significant chunk of the payment for services. What a gig!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)