Jesus. They're killing me with cuteness here. I want more friends to have kids so I can dress them up in these little costumes.
Like a waterfall in slow motion, Part One
3 years ago
10.23.2006
I can't wait for Molly!
Jesus. They're killing me with cuteness here. I want more friends to have kids so I can dress them up in these little costumes.
10.20.2006
Happy Hour n Art
Nat's buddy Rob is having an opening tonight. Check out his site, there's all kinds of cool stuff! 
Since You Asked
One of my delights in life is reading advice columns. Like proper English toffee and Veronica Mars, it’s chewy and should be savored. Yes, a television show can be chewy. Cary Tennis, whose column, Since You Asked, is on Salon, is a favorite. One of the things I like about Mr. Tennis’ column is that he has absolutely no professional qualifications. Oh, and he is a brilliant writer. He writes like I would like to – elegant, but with an occasional dose of profanity. He is gently encouraging and never shys away from telling people that there is no hope. Reading his columns, it's easy to see why he’s the kind of person that would frequently be called upon to give advice.
The letters he receives are consistent enough in tone and style that they must get a substantial amount of rework. The subjects, however, vary widely. Many ask for advice on family, sometimes the problems are more on etiquette than on life advice. Some probe the deepest beliefs and choices about our lives – and it is in response to these letters that Tennis is at his best. In one column, he responds to a 29-year-old woman who has been abruptly dumped by her boyfriend of 3.5 years. She is devastated, and her query is as much one of “why me?” as it is “what should I do?” Although what we’re dealing with here is a garden variety heartbreak, Tennis’ response recognizes how much grief his correspondent feels, and without being patronizing describes the futility of looking for reasons from deity or deities that may be loving and protective, or cruel and fickle:
But there's more too it than that. Screw the gods, he says, you already have the strength inside to get through this. All that we have to cling to is that we are stronger for the pain. Toughen it out, there’s no shortcut.
The letters he receives are consistent enough in tone and style that they must get a substantial amount of rework. The subjects, however, vary widely. Many ask for advice on family, sometimes the problems are more on etiquette than on life advice. Some probe the deepest beliefs and choices about our lives – and it is in response to these letters that Tennis is at his best. In one column, he responds to a 29-year-old woman who has been abruptly dumped by her boyfriend of 3.5 years. She is devastated, and her query is as much one of “why me?” as it is “what should I do?” Although what we’re dealing with here is a garden variety heartbreak, Tennis’ response recognizes how much grief his correspondent feels, and without being patronizing describes the futility of looking for reasons from deity or deities that may be loving and protective, or cruel and fickle:
We live on the fragile edge of annihilation, imperfectly sheltered from the void, open to the sky and to the asshole motherfucker gods who fuck with us night and day for their own amusement. We pray to a kind and loving insurance god who sometimes provides coverage but who just as often excludes on technicalities the calamities that befall us, looking the other way when he should be watching out for us. And this too amuses the asshole motherfucker gods, who may be many things but are not stupid or naive.
But there's more too it than that. Screw the gods, he says, you already have the strength inside to get through this. All that we have to cling to is that we are stronger for the pain. Toughen it out, there’s no shortcut.
That's no consolation, really, is it. It's just the truth. You're wiser now though black and blue, sobbing in the firelight, waiting for dawn.You can find an archive of his columns here.
CLA was roped into being a parent chaperone on her daughter’s kindergarten field trip. She and I have similar opinions about kids. We like the ones we know. We both agree that her kids are our favorite ones. Other people’s kids? Not so much. A room or car full of children puts me in fear of my life. It blows my mind that I get paid more to lawyer than a teacher does to corral several dozen five year olds. If I had that many kids in a room I’d need a lot of backup. A fire extinguisher, some rope, several cubes of bouillon and a New York City police officer on a horse. At least.
.
All three kindergarten classes from the school went on the trip. One of the male teachers is what we call a “Santa Cruz type” – very earthy and touchy feely. Let’s call him Teacher Manuel. Probably he’s been living here so long he’s forgotten that the rest of the country hasn’t quite accepted the vegan-yoga lifestyle. Some of the kids were hitting each other and Teacher Manuel tries to explain to them why they shouldn’t fight: “Hands are not for hitting! Hands are for working the earth. And good loving…” At this, a couple of the parents unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. Good loving? Teacher Manuel glared at the giggling parents. He explained, lifting his hands as though to show the children, and explained further, “We love each other.” He didn’t mean it in a Barry White kind of way, he meant it in his Santa Cruz way – love in a holistic, positive, mother earth kind of way. I prefer the other kind, but I guess it’s one of those age-appropriate things
.
All three kindergarten classes from the school went on the trip. One of the male teachers is what we call a “Santa Cruz type” – very earthy and touchy feely. Let’s call him Teacher Manuel. Probably he’s been living here so long he’s forgotten that the rest of the country hasn’t quite accepted the vegan-yoga lifestyle. Some of the kids were hitting each other and Teacher Manuel tries to explain to them why they shouldn’t fight: “Hands are not for hitting! Hands are for working the earth. And good loving…” At this, a couple of the parents unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. Good loving? Teacher Manuel glared at the giggling parents. He explained, lifting his hands as though to show the children, and explained further, “We love each other.” He didn’t mean it in a Barry White kind of way, he meant it in his Santa Cruz way – love in a holistic, positive, mother earth kind of way. I prefer the other kind, but I guess it’s one of those age-appropriate things
10.19.2006
"I'm just trying to help out..."
A colleague got this spam email at work. It cracked me up because with all the people out there thinking they really can get a free gift card for Applebees if they just forward that email to a bazillion people, someone is going to think it's real. I bet there's a lot of Marks out there having a bad day.
Now every time she walks by, we tell her "Hey, um, people have been talking about your weight..."
From: Mark
Subject: Dieting
This is not meant to be an insult or anything
but people are talking at work about your weight.
I thought you should know. I know it would upset
you if you knew but I know some friends here and
outside work that have used a program that worked
within weeks. I am not pushing anything on you
but thought it wouldn't hurt if you looked at it.
I also think I am doing you a favor as it's always
nice when people talk about how much better you look
than how much you've been putting on. I hope I am
not intruding, just trying to help out. My cousin &
friend Alex used this and it helped alot. Here is
the page I know they got it from direct.
http://dailyplastic.com
Again, I'm just trying to help out.
Thanks for listening.
Mark
Now every time she walks by, we tell her "Hey, um, people have been talking about your weight..."
10.18.2006
Steve Jobs is a bad lay.
"I've seen the demonstrations on the Internet about how you can find another person using a Zune and give them a song they can play three times. It takes forever. By the time you've gone through all that, the girl's got up and left! You're much better off to take one of your earbuds out and put it in her ear."
-Steve Jobs
This is kind of the problem with nerds. No finesse. Do not just "put it in her ear." Maybe she doesn't want to share earwax with you. Maybe she's just too polite to say, "But I don't like The Damnwells." Work your groove a little, Steve. Hold up the earbud and raise an eyebrow. Lean close and whisper, "Wanna listen?" Don't just whip it out and shove it in her ear. That's just a really good way to get smacked.
New blog
I added Axis of Aevil to my blog links. The author, an American, fell in love with a Finn and now they are married and live in Helsinki. Haven't we all fallen in love with a Finn and considered moving to Helsinki? Well, she's less averse to the cold weather than I am, so she actually did it. She's a great writer, and amazing photographer and a Bush-fearing liberal. You see why I'm a fan.
10.17.2006
Made with extra Yum.
May I recommend the Mendocino Chocolate Company, for all your gift-giving needs? The truffles, in particular, are fantastic.
Lightbulb
I’m SO glad I went to class last night.
The subject was “Greece, Homer and the Hero” and the assigned reading was the first book of the The Iliad. The text that we used is Robert Fagles’ translation. I found this site with an example of the important differences a translation can make.
I admit, I skimmed the reading and came away feeling the same as I did when we read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in my sophomore year of high school. I had a basic sense of the plot and the main characters, but the beauty of it was totally lost on me. This is precisely why I’m taking the class – even if I did have the discipline to sit around and read Homer, I’m not going to get anything out of it that way. The way the professor explained the story is in the context of how the ancient Greeks perceive the human relationship with God, and the role of man (and let’s face it, it was just man) in the universe.
The excitement of the story really came alive, especially since the story was an oral tradition, a 16,000 line poem that was memorized and passed from generation to generation before Homer wrote it down. You can really see how it would be to sit around a fire and have someone telling it aloud, talking about how angry Achilles’ words had made Agamemon:
I can just see the little Greek kids wanting to hear just a little more, just five more minutes, before having to go to bed.
Hearing the words spoken aloud, especially the way the mortals in the story struggle and interact with the Gods, it made me suddenly realize why this was such an amazing period, and why, at the end of the Dark Ages, the early Renaissance artists and philosophers sought out inspiration from the ancient Greeks. I knew that, that message had been drummed into my head in college humanities classes, but it never quite clicked until last night.
We were looking at a slide of the Parthenon, and the professor described the way the building mirrors ancient Greek philosophy of man – that humankind should seek up to attain it’s full potential. The elegant columns reaching from the earth to the sky, the architecture reflects that ethos of man reaching for the sky. Then I thought of the churches built in the dark ages, the so much cruder images of man hunched down, the threat of damnation keeping man cowering in fear. A light went on and I suddenly understood in a way I just hadn’t before.
The subject was “Greece, Homer and the Hero” and the assigned reading was the first book of the The Iliad. The text that we used is Robert Fagles’ translation. I found this site with an example of the important differences a translation can make.
I admit, I skimmed the reading and came away feeling the same as I did when we read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in my sophomore year of high school. I had a basic sense of the plot and the main characters, but the beauty of it was totally lost on me. This is precisely why I’m taking the class – even if I did have the discipline to sit around and read Homer, I’m not going to get anything out of it that way. The way the professor explained the story is in the context of how the ancient Greeks perceive the human relationship with God, and the role of man (and let’s face it, it was just man) in the universe.
The excitement of the story really came alive, especially since the story was an oral tradition, a 16,000 line poem that was memorized and passed from generation to generation before Homer wrote it down. You can really see how it would be to sit around a fire and have someone telling it aloud, talking about how angry Achilles’ words had made Agamemon: “…among them rose the fighting son of Atreus, lord of the far-flung kingdoms, Agamemnon – furious, his dark hear filled to the brim, blazing with anger now, his eyes like searing fire.”
I can just see the little Greek kids wanting to hear just a little more, just five more minutes, before having to go to bed.
Hearing the words spoken aloud, especially the way the mortals in the story struggle and interact with the Gods, it made me suddenly realize why this was such an amazing period, and why, at the end of the Dark Ages, the early Renaissance artists and philosophers sought out inspiration from the ancient Greeks. I knew that, that message had been drummed into my head in college humanities classes, but it never quite clicked until last night.
We were looking at a slide of the Parthenon, and the professor described the way the building mirrors ancient Greek philosophy of man – that humankind should seek up to attain it’s full potential. The elegant columns reaching from the earth to the sky, the architecture reflects that ethos of man reaching for the sky. Then I thought of the churches built in the dark ages, the so much cruder images of man hunched down, the threat of damnation keeping man cowering in fear. A light went on and I suddenly understood in a way I just hadn’t before.
10.16.2006
My Life As A Teenage Girl
Tonight is my Western Civ class, and we’re discussing The Iliad. This is exactly the reason that I took this class – I’m not ever going to read The Iliad on my own and get any more out of it than, “Huh?” But it was a long, if fun, weekend, and I’ve already driven over the hill once this morning to go to a seminar on employment law in Asia. I only had a few hours in my own bed. I want my soft sheets and towels. I want to watch the Netflix DVD I got today, the Season One, Disc 4 of Veronica Mars. I've basically reverted to adolescence. I know I should study, I accept that going to class would be better for my brain, but what I really want is to go home, lie in bed, eat junk food and watch UPN.
I am logging 40+ miles per week, I’m still in my first few months as an attorney, I’m taking a Western Civ class and preparing for the California Real Estate Brokers exam. Veronica is my brain candy, and the sugar rush is so sweet.
I am logging 40+ miles per week, I’m still in my first few months as an attorney, I’m taking a Western Civ class and preparing for the California Real Estate Brokers exam. Veronica is my brain candy, and the sugar rush is so sweet.
10.14.2006
Blogging with baby.
No, not MY baby! What, you think I could keep something like that secret? JNC's sorority sister dropped her daughter Trinity off this morning for JNC to watch while she's at work. I've talked on the phone to Trinity plenty of times, but never met her in person. She's even smarter in person than on the phone!
Watching and 18-month old, even for like 2 hours, reminds me how much goes into raising a child. I can't imagine trying to do this on your own, 24-hours a day. Quite frankly, I have a hard time imagining it with a fleet of support staff at your beck and call. Trinity's a good kid, she's very giggly and smart, and she entertains herself. She seems to entertain herself mostly by ripping up and trying to eat magazines, but still.
Besides eating magazines and talking on the phone, Trinity likes to try on shoes. I was flattered that from the moment of her arrival, she went straight for the shoes I'd brought with me, a pair of sparkly silver heels and a pair of black satin stilletos with pink rhinestones. Like a true Cinderella, she slipped her foot right in the sparkly silver number and proceeded to walk around Jenn's place, showing off her new footwear.
Watching and 18-month old, even for like 2 hours, reminds me how much goes into raising a child. I can't imagine trying to do this on your own, 24-hours a day. Quite frankly, I have a hard time imagining it with a fleet of support staff at your beck and call. Trinity's a good kid, she's very giggly and smart, and she entertains herself. She seems to entertain herself mostly by ripping up and trying to eat magazines, but still.
Besides eating magazines and talking on the phone, Trinity likes to try on shoes. I was flattered that from the moment of her arrival, she went straight for the shoes I'd brought with me, a pair of sparkly silver heels and a pair of black satin stilletos with pink rhinestones. Like a true Cinderella, she slipped her foot right in the sparkly silver number and proceeded to walk around Jenn's place, showing off her new footwear.
10.13.2006
Vacation Day
Today is a vacation day and I'm kickin' it Chez Rhubarb, aka JNC. I really like crashing here, not just because she is a great hostess and lives in one of my favorite neighborhoods, but also because she's generally got great snacks around. Here's some things I've found in her cupboards and fridge:
1. Orange jello, one serving of the pre-made kind.
2. Powdered chai mix from Cost Plus
3. Trader Joe's Traderade
4. Drumsticks (like, the ice cream!!!)
5. Lots of Gu and protein bars
6. Popsecret microwave popcorn (in the freezer... hmmm...)
I've been looking forward to doing a run up here so I can explore her neighborhood a little more. She lives off Mandana Ave, between Piedmont and the Grand Ave area. Lots of hills, which sounded good until I woke up this morning with a headache, thanks to the free cocktails at the Sample Angel and Niketown events.
1. Orange jello, one serving of the pre-made kind.
2. Powdered chai mix from Cost Plus
3. Trader Joe's Traderade
4. Drumsticks (like, the ice cream!!!)
5. Lots of Gu and protein bars
6. Popsecret microwave popcorn (in the freezer... hmmm...)
I've been looking forward to doing a run up here so I can explore her neighborhood a little more. She lives off Mandana Ave, between Piedmont and the Grand Ave area. Lots of hills, which sounded good until I woke up this morning with a headache, thanks to the free cocktails at the Sample Angel and Niketown events.
10.10.2006
High mileage.
So, speaking of Greek folks, Dean Karnazes is attempting to run 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days. Well, aren’t some people just full of spunk? Actually, I really admire him for doing this, because he’s trying to bring some attention to the benefits of exercise, as well as the obesity epidemic that is engorging the country (can I metaphor or what?).
There’s a good Runner’s World article about it here, and Karnazes is blogging the events here.
There’s a good Runner’s World article about it here, and Karnazes is blogging the events here.
10.09.2006
Perverts!
I'm trying to find documentaries on Netflix to round-out my reading for my Western Civ class. The best thing about Netflix, like Amazon, is reading the user reviews. One viewer of a History Channel documentary, "In Search of History: The Greek Gods," warned parents about all the nudity:
"However, most of the male statuary is filmed from the perspective of one looking up at somewhat massive male anatomy and the majority of the females are painted topless. I encourage a parent review the film before showing it to a kid. My twelve-year-old daughter was fascinated by the mythology, but pretty uncomfortable with the artwork."
First of all, explain to me how you make a documentary about ancient Greece without using ancient Greek statues. They didn't exactly leave behind a CD-ROM to help us out. That's what's left! It's all we've got!
Second, do you really want to admit to the rest of the world that you find the male genitals on Greek statues, "massive?" I can't shake the image of Milton Milquetoast in his little suburban shower, staring forlornly down at himself, and wondering if his wife is maybe a little too friendly with Mr. Andronikos down the street.
10.08.2006
Ow.
The first-ever, world-premiere San Jose Rock n Roll Half Marathon, was a stunning success! Well, at least I think it was. I eagerly sauntered to the start line this morning with 15,000 of my fellow running enthusiasts. After the Mermaid, I felt so good I told everyone that I must not be trying hard enough because I don't seem to get sore. I credited lots of use of Amino Vital recovery juice, streching, and adequate preparation. All those things are great, but as it turns out I was right, I just wasn't trying hard enough. I know that now because I busted my butt today out there and OH do I feel it right now! I'm almost as sore as the time I did a squat workout with TB, and I walked funny for days after that.
Now that I have a couple of pretty much all standard running distances under my belt, I'm trying to PR those distances. In 2005, I did San Francisco in just over 2 and a half hours, so for this much flatter distance I told myself I would try to break two hours, which is not very impressive for a half marathon, but I think it's respectable. I just wanted a "1" at the front of my time. Did I do it? I'm not sure! I hit my stopwatch as my timing chip and I crossed the start line, and as I panted across the finish it was 1:59 and some numbers at the end I didn't catch. So I'll have to check the results online and find out. They're supposed to be up later tonight.
The best part of this race was having friends there, too. JNC and her cousin Michelle came down to do the half, their first for both, and both of them finished WAY ahead of their goal time. After I finished, I circled back to find JNC and ran the last mile or so with her. I've known JNC long enough to know that there are sometimes that she doesn't need to see your peppy side, and after 12 miles of running is one of those times. She was in her zone, and we quietly jogged through the last mile of pain together. I was really excited to be able to run the last part of it with her. The fatigue I'd felt the last few miles the first time was gone because I was there to support a friend - it wasn't about me the second time I crossed the finish line.
I will say this for those P.F. Chang folks, they put on a seriously organized race. There were plenty of porta-potties, and the carrel system worked really well. The post-finish line setup was perfect: cold water, get your chip removed, photos, more drinks, carbs and fruit. The gear check lines were short and all the volunteers were great. I'd definitely do this one again, except now I'll have an even shorter time to beat!
Now that I have a couple of pretty much all standard running distances under my belt, I'm trying to PR those distances. In 2005, I did San Francisco in just over 2 and a half hours, so for this much flatter distance I told myself I would try to break two hours, which is not very impressive for a half marathon, but I think it's respectable. I just wanted a "1" at the front of my time. Did I do it? I'm not sure! I hit my stopwatch as my timing chip and I crossed the start line, and as I panted across the finish it was 1:59 and some numbers at the end I didn't catch. So I'll have to check the results online and find out. They're supposed to be up later tonight.
The best part of this race was having friends there, too. JNC and her cousin Michelle came down to do the half, their first for both, and both of them finished WAY ahead of their goal time. After I finished, I circled back to find JNC and ran the last mile or so with her. I've known JNC long enough to know that there are sometimes that she doesn't need to see your peppy side, and after 12 miles of running is one of those times. She was in her zone, and we quietly jogged through the last mile of pain together. I was really excited to be able to run the last part of it with her. The fatigue I'd felt the last few miles the first time was gone because I was there to support a friend - it wasn't about me the second time I crossed the finish line.
I will say this for those P.F. Chang folks, they put on a seriously organized race. There were plenty of porta-potties, and the carrel system worked really well. The post-finish line setup was perfect: cold water, get your chip removed, photos, more drinks, carbs and fruit. The gear check lines were short and all the volunteers were great. I'd definitely do this one again, except now I'll have an even shorter time to beat!
10.02.2006
9.19.2006
Molly update!
Nat's baby, who I have decided will be called Molly, has already showed how much she loves her Auntie Siobhan by being a girl.
Nat and Michael went to the ultrasound (sonagram? I never know the difference) on Monday and it has been confirmed that the baby, which is being called Mopsy in utero, will be of the female variety. Nat showed me a picture and said, "That's her vagina." Neither of us could tell from the blurry black and white photo, but there was another one where you could see her hand and it looked like she was waving! So cute. It's exciting to look at the photos and then look at Nat's tummy: Molly's in there! It's hard to believe. Then we took a ruler and measured 14 cm, which is how long Molly is right now, and we held the ruler up to Nat's tummy to see how big that is. It didn't look like much room to me, but CLA insists, "She's got swimming space in there." Nat's got a nice roomy uterus.
Nat is due January 28, so that gives me 131 shopping days, not including today. I better get to work if Molly is going to have the proper wardrobe when she arrives.
Nat and Michael went to the ultrasound (sonagram? I never know the difference) on Monday and it has been confirmed that the baby, which is being called Mopsy in utero, will be of the female variety. Nat showed me a picture and said, "That's her vagina." Neither of us could tell from the blurry black and white photo, but there was another one where you could see her hand and it looked like she was waving! So cute. It's exciting to look at the photos and then look at Nat's tummy: Molly's in there! It's hard to believe. Then we took a ruler and measured 14 cm, which is how long Molly is right now, and we held the ruler up to Nat's tummy to see how big that is. It didn't look like much room to me, but CLA insists, "She's got swimming space in there." Nat's got a nice roomy uterus.
Nat is due January 28, so that gives me 131 shopping days, not including today. I better get to work if Molly is going to have the proper wardrobe when she arrives.
9.18.2006
What's up with this spinach thing, eh? Kind of makes you wonder what they were doing to the produce.
I still can't find the bloody USB cord for my camera. I have fabulous and shameful photos that I am prepared to post on the internet and I can't because I'm missing hardware. Maybe this is a sign that I should finish unpacking the gigantic pile of "stuff" on my desk. I bet I'd find the cord. Too distracted by Yelping at the moment, though.
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