love thy neighbor...

the next time you see someone wearing a sweater inside out AND backwards*, please let him/her know immediately. it's a good thing. thanks.

*not that this happened to me or anything... just saying...

nutrition facts

so, something's been really bothering me lately...

if i came with a nutrition facts label i think it would go something like this:

Nutrition Facts
Serving Size 1920 oz
Serving per Container 1

Ingredients
Oxygen (65%)
Carbon (18%)
Hydrogen (10%)
Nitrogen (3%)
Calcium (1.5%)
Phosphorus (1.0%)
Potassium (0.35%)
Sulfur (0.25%)
Sodium (0.15%)
Magnesium (0.05%)
Copper, Zinc, Selenium, Molybdenum, Fluorine, Chlorine, Iodine, Manganese, Cobalt, Iron (0.70%)
Lithium, Strontium, Aluminum, Silicon, Lead, Vanadium, Arsenic, Bromine (trace amounts)

Best Before - MAR2072


see, the thing is... i'm realizing lately that i'm not easily labeled (probably due to my speedy, twinkle toed, label dodging) but on occassion, i realize i have been *sniffle* labeled.

i get the impression that i'm not liberal enough for "the liberals" nor conservative enough for "the conservatives"; not filipino enough for "the filipinos", nor american enough for "the americans"; not pro-life enough for "the pro-lifers" nor pro-choice enough for "the pro-choicers"; not artistic enough for "the artists" nor intellectual enough for "the intellectuals"; not catholic enough for "the catholics" nor tolerant enough for "the ?-theists"; not disfigured enough for "the disfigured" nor symetrical enough for "the symetrical"....

really, i don't want to be a part of a self titled group. (i'd even say i'm crowd phobic but i'm not going to insult the agoraphobics out there.) i can promise that my views may change, i'm only a mere human in possession of a faulty brain. and i realize that may make some people uncomfortable, skeptical even, but i hope that doesn't discourage you from staying a while - i may bore you to tears but i won't sell you tupperware. (flowbee, ginsu knives, mr. microphone, a variety of tv products perhaps, but no tupperware - the burping is just dreadful...)

hopefully, we'll engage in some of that archaic obsolete conversation i keep reading about...

hmmm, any tips on making this soapbox into a derby car? please & thank you?

get your free ham milkshakes! anyone!? anyone!? bueller!? bueller!?

how cute is my doorstop?!
check out my tuff lil doorstop mouse! that's right yoda, don't let the door hit ya on the way out... there's a new jedi mastuh...

which reminds me... we have ruffneck squirrels in my hood. i'm convinced it's a southside thing.

a few months back, kidzilla and i were out for a walk and i saw a squirrel get run over by a car. not only was it run over but it was
s k i d ded on. we're talking SCreeeeeeCH - as in longjohn on the vertebrae.

there was that split second of horrified realization - *gasp* "ohmygodthatpoorinnocentlittlecreaturejustgothitbyaspeedingcar"

and then the furry little punk actually got up, bounded into the neighbors yard and dug up some nuts. it had NUTS APLENTY if ya ask me...

there's another squirrel (then again maybe it's the same one) who's been terrorizing a neighbor. apparently, it' s grown quite fond of the neighbor's house and likes to hang there, literally, by it's nails, on the window screens. well, the neighbor thinks, "if i bang on the window, it'll go away." well, not only does the squirrel not go away - it urinates on the screen while hanging from it.

so, don't mess with squirrels on the south side of chicago - i'm just saying... also, more squirrelly wrath and hilarity can be found here.

anyway, i'm still recovering from christmas but i thought i should come out from under my couch to say "hi". i trust your holiday was happy - whichever holiday you chose to celebrate.

it was very odd to spend christmas eve at my aunt's house and say "merry christmas" audibly without fear of offending anyone in the room... then again, i probably offended all of my filipino relatives by saying "merry christmas" instead of "maligayang pasko".

hmm, yeah, that'll put me in therapy for a while....

suffice to say, christmas eve was lovely. my extended family rocks. christmas morning, kidzilla roared with delight at her red retro trike. she's still throwing it around willy-nilly. hasn't quite figured out the whole "ride-on" feature...

my christmas lunch went off without a hitch. the masses were sated. but of course, we have enough ham to sustain us through a nuclear winter. which is absolute gluttony because we already had two cats for that... mmm, cat - the other OTHER white meat.

...average everyday domesticated circus freak...

the red retro radio flyer trike...


see this? i put it together last night for my lil monster... *patting back, patting back, breaking arm* (it's not done yet - radio flyer sent me a defective pc. but, it'll be complete on friday...) i may still get her a pink big wheel - this is just her sunday driving vehicle....

...and this among many other things is why i am now - a domesticated circus freak...

further evidence:

a) wears a "uniform" - printed flannel pajamas, &/or sesame street underwear. (today? oscar.)
b) dances the hokey pokey, chicken dance and a variety of 80s club dance forms to entertain child and the random neighbor/skilled tradesman.
c) researches info online re: the range of dutch ovens and gratin pans that offer the best results for stews and gratin dauphinois. ("your what hurts? dolphins and potatoes?! wtf!?" my friend, E, IM'd...)
d) walks around neighborhood shops in search of a mandoline and a cheap set of 16 pc stonewear in -6 windchill.
e) is overjoyed to receive these early christmas presents: a ham and a doorstop
f) loses sleep over what to get the mail carrier for christmas

anyhoo, i have to go & flip on the christmas lights... (and for the record, whoever the f*cking joneses were, i hate 'em! probably started the whole salem witch trials for all i know, or came over with thyphoid on a boat, overachieving b*stards... )

dec 8, 1980...

let's see in december of 1980, i was eight years old... which means i was in the third grade and oh yes, sorta in between grades - it was around the time that i had gotten promoted and was trying my best to fail miserably in every class i had.

promoting someone like me to the next academic grade level in 1980 was like dressing me up in a crisp bonnet, starched blouse and voluminous skirts and sentencing me to a colonial stockade while still in the year 1980.

first of all, i was born with something called cystic hygroma - the mothership of all facial deformities - imho. second, i was one of two filipino girls (not the pretty one) in my public grade school of mostly underprivileged white and latino kids.

i should preface this by saying i love my mom. she is my hero. i can't imagine landing in a foreign country and not really knowing the country's language perfectly, then shortly thereafter, giving birth in the same country and raising a child alone - who's also sick and a girl.

my handful of years spent at avondale elementary on chicago's nw side were difficult. i remember wanting to fit in so badly, wanting to be accepted, etc. i remember wanting the right clothes and a lunchbox like all the other kids. my mom was very cognizant of my "needs" and did the best she could.

most of my clothes came from the thrift store or rummage/garage sales. (they still do. it's where my obsession for all things ebay/thrift comes from.) i asked my mom, "can you buy me garanimals clothes from a store?" my mom responded, "what are garanimals?" i replied, "they're clothes that you match up by the animals on the tags." i have to mention here that i really had NO idea what garanimals were, i got the idea, i'd heard the explanation, but i really didn't know. my mom asked "the top and the bottom match?" it was looking promising... i said "yes". and that was when i started wearing second hand pajamas to school.

wait. it gets better...

re: the lunchbox... even in the ghetto, kids had a requisite lunchbox decorated with their favorite 70s cartoon character. everyone except me. so, again, i asked my mom, "can you buy me a lunch box from a store?" my mom replied, "what's a lunchbox?" i offered, "it's a box that you put your lunch in." and she returned, "oh, sure, i can do that." and that was when i started bringing a large porcelain sugarbowl (w/ a rubberband around it to clasp it shut) to school.

here's an idea: let's promote the freaky looking, asian girl brainiac who wears pajamas and brings a rubberbanded porcelain sugarbowl (filled with rice, banana chips and prunes) to school.

i'll never forget walking into my first class as a promoted student. it was absolutely terrifying. everyone was SO much bigger than me in MY class - but they were G I A N T S in this new one. i failed every test i got and did everything i could to be put back in my class - which they did.

but, the damage was done. the legend of my historic rule as school freak was wrought - i was the standard to which all future freaks would be measured.

y'know... i was originally going to wax poetic about how yoko ono and john lennon helped to perpetuate the stereotype of the asian female/white male couple. and in doing so, how their relationship haunts my own "sellout" existence with my "white" husband and my "mongrel" child. but that's a post for another day....

today, i'll remember sitting in the dark next to my mom. she was sipping some red wine with ice and then offered me a sample sip too. her face was lit up by the gray blue fuzz of the tv and the tears were streaming down her face as the details of lennon's death were broadcast. no sounds, just tears.

today, i'll be listening to some lennon in remembrance of the other man that made my mom cry.

stuffed animal fornication

i think everyone should have a retail job during the winter holiday season sometime in their too short lives. my theory is that after every person gets the sh*t kicked out of him/her by the blood-thirsty, holiday reduction obsessed hoi polloi, s/he gains a little perspective and the world becomes a much better, calmer, happier place.

while in college, i worked for one of the oldest and most respected toy stores in the world.

yes. that one.

and except for the theme song (which by the way, when you get the job, they tell you that you hear it while you sleep for a few days and they are not kidding), it was one of the best jobs of my life.

ok, so the actual working hours weren't all that much fun admittedly. the constant questions:

"do you have *insert brand name of toy, vague description, ancient year of issue, random series #, limited edition nightmare color & useless size*? is it still on sale? it better be because i made a special trip..."

and the complaints:

"this one isn't "fresh" (said while holding aforementioned inanimate toy at arm's length). can you get another one from stock? and you people can't wrap. just let me do it."

from duty bound parents and their overstimulated kids.

and kids, if there's a lesson to be learned, it's this - you never, never, ever, ever, ever want to piss off an overworked, underpaid grunt in the retail regiment - especially IN their place of employment. and it doesn't matter if the irrefutable question and/or grotesque complaint is regurgitated out of the mouth of an obscenely rich, beautiful and famous person or a regular, obscenely rich, beautiful joe. winona, take notes.

anyway, after closing, the click of the lock left us refreshed and renewed - we'd begin to work dilligently to clean & to get our specified areas straightened so we could go home. but, there was something dark and primitive deep inside of us, working its way up to our shiny vulnerable surfaces and one thing would lead to another and we'd be blaring blatantly anti-oompaloompa music, engaging in sanguinary nerf bow & arrow wars, late nite b-movie gak theatre, painfully slow demolition derby and then we'd dive to our most plebian and utterly base depths - the stuffed animal orgy.

oh, the horror, the corruption!!! *fade to black*

well, the poor defenseless, decaffeinated morning crew would arrive thru the rear entrance. in the back office, they'd put their things away in their cubbies, sip their coffee, nibble on a croissant, chit chat and finally, they'd enter the store and begin the routine of morning duties.

and then, you'd hear it, the collective gasp (and hysterical laughter) as the dimmer knobs were turned and our night shift masterpiece revealed - our cute and cuddly visual aids to the world of sexual slang - it was "puddles" buffing the beaver with "bixby", "chaplin" spanking the cat with "spencer", "madge" bumping fuzzies with "melvin", "patrick" doing it doggy style with "bootsie", "felix" feeding the kitty with "dreyfus", "biscuits" givin' the "george" a banana, "ozzie" riding "chuck", the pony - all of these and more would be on brazenfaced display in the licentious stuffed animal section.

it. was. anarchy. (oh, c'mon, like ANYONE would have noticed...)


wow. hmm, it's like i need a ciggy now....

so, ya like quizzes, do ya?

i notice that when i'm surfing thru blogs (via BE or that handy "next blog" button on blogger) that when bloggers get blocked they turn to quizzes for some help. so, here i am - blocked - turning to a quiz for some left brain lube...

and according to this quiz "i am a modern day idiot".

below are some sample questions from an 1885 admissions examination to jersey city high school: (i stole the quiz from "how i accidentally joined the vast right wing conspiracy (and found inner peace)" by harry stein.)


algebra (on second thought. let's skip this part - i can't type this stuff out.... if you REALLY want the questions. feel free to email me.)

geography

1. name four principal ranges of mountains in asia, three in europe and three in africa.

2. name the states on the west bank of the mississippi, and the capital of each.

u.s. history

3. what event do you connect with with 1565, 1607, 1620, 1664, 1775?

4. what caused the mexican war? what was the result? what american general commanded at the capture of the city of mexico?

grammar

5. write a sentence containing a noun used as an attribute, a verb in the perfect tense potential mood, and a proper adjective.

6. write the declension of (a) bird, (b) man, (c) fly, (d) fox, (e) it.

7. make three sentences, using the plural of sheep (a) in the nominative case, (b) in the possessive, (c) in the objective.


ANSWERS

1. himalayas, urals, hindu kush and khangal; alps, carpathians and pyrenees; atlas, drakenberg and ethiopian highlands

2. louisiana (baton rouge); arkansas (little rock); missouri (jefferson city);iowa (des moines); and minnesota (st. paul)

3. 1565 - pedro menendez de aviles founded st. augustine, fl. 1607 - jamestown settled., 1620-103 pilgrims landed at plymouth rock. 1664-british seized new netherland from the dutch. 1775-battles of lexington and concord.

4. manifest destiny, diplomatic blundering and instability of american government;california, new mexico and arizona became part of us and texas border was established at rio grande; zachary taylor.

5. my expertise tells me that i am going to fail this english test, since i'm guessing a lot.

6. (a) bird, birds (b) man, men (c) fly, flies (d) it, its

7. (a) the sheep are in the meadow. (b) the sheep's wool was carded (c) we sheared all the sheep.

the ghost of turkeys past...

i have very very fond memories of turkey days... especially those i experienced while living in san francisco. you say, "turkey", i say "gay men" and "boston market".

my first roomates were steven, sam, buttons, frisbee and monster. *insert obligatory flashback shimmer here* that's me, in the living room of that apt where the guy just urinated on the stoop. i'm the hill of blankets on that futon covered in cats. the guy wearing the yellow monkey fur? that's sam. the guy wearing the plaid lumberjack robe and a sunflower scrunchie in his hair... that's steven.

for thanksgiving, it was our tradition to attend dinner at a fabulously decorated home owned by a sparkling gay man and then get wasted drunk somewhere in the castro, only to awaken seemingly decoupaged to our beds.

this year was like all the others. we were post feast, rolling each other down the hills, picking up random revelers in our wake. i remember we started the night at the Cafe, then we ended up at another bar, the Pendulum, i think... and then...

well, then all i remember was waking up, cheek to sticky floor of another bar. i vaguely remember steven, vertical, laughing so hysterically that he skipped away. and then, sam helping me into a cab and climbing in after me, his body shuddering in his failed efforts to repress his rolling cachinnations - in my haze, i realized "sam is a canary jell-o hellion come alive".

i'll spare you the details of the moronic emergency room visit.... suffice to say, the golfball on my forehead (from the doorstop that cushioned my fall) finally disappeared a few days later.

so, what does all of this have to do with boston market? um, nothing really - well, i guess the common denominator is the consumption of big dead birds and another non native sf holiday tradition.

so, i lived with steven and sam for only a few months (we did share a ravaged bird or two and anonymous vats of liquor again, later in my sf years) then, i flew the coop and got my own nest in the tenderloin and lived near another bird named elena, my greek born, british bred, closeted virgin, chain smoking, newcastle drinking, private investigator, next door neighbor, and dearest beloved friend.

elena and i (the all-inclusive holiday feasters) celebrated ye olde turkey massacre with the other pseudo homeless, shower deprived and unidentified but charming masses at boston market. i know - who woulda thunk that anything - especially a boston market - would be open on thanksgiving? well, apparently all the dregs of humanity on polk street knew the 411 on the BM (boston market, not... oh, nevermind). then, it was off to "the castle" for pints, chips and unruly behavior (including cheating at darts) with random boys.

come to think of it, we also celebrated christmas at BM but we'd bring some imported english crackers (as in - poof! STREAMERS! yay! not - salty. crumby. yucky.) with us - we caused quite a stir... oh yes, we did.

these are my little memories... *sigh*, *head tilt*. i should stop now or i'll break into song and we just can't have that.

anyway, i hope you had a lovely holiday and that as you raised fork (or spork) to mouth you realized that you (like me) had and were something to be thankful for.

wouldn't it be weird if blogging women cycled at the same time?

(my ol' bike, named "ajax", from electra ...)

but i'm not talking about uni-, bi-, tri- or motor-. i have cycles on the brain, gentle reader...

i was just thinking about when i worked at an art gallery and all four of us realized one freakish day that we were all cycling at the same time. (yep, i'm talking about "the curse", "aunt flo", my "friend".)

i think it's because of the charting. the temp taking, the... um, gathering of input material for... nevermind. it's supposed to be this useful tool in predicting when i am at my most fecund (love that word. so pre-raphaelite. so jessica rabbit).

it's supposed to help me take charge of my fertility! so far, it's bearing a stronger resemblance to a useless extra screw from a bookcase which has more control over me than i have of it. but that's a subject for another unread post.

anyway, according to my chart, i'm just another day or so away from my "rose parade". i really want to be optimistic since i recently had so much sex that i thought i sprained my hair. i had optimal cervical fluid. it was right before ovulation. my temperature is up. yada yada yada - all that good stuff. but i can only remain in denial for so long - the cramping is too obvious and my devouring chocolate is so obscene, it borders on the pornographic. oh, and i can't stop snapping my husband's head off when he says "hi".

ok, stream of pms consciousness shift here - so, i read somewhere that a pregnant woman carrying a daughter is also carrying her grandchild since every female fetus contains all the eggs the newborn child will have. how cool is that?! well, ok, i can accept that i'm the only one who thinks it's very cool.

i really want to have another child. i want my daughter to have a sibling. i really would like my husband to have a son. i know there's always adoption. it's an option that we were open to long ago. but, i LOVED being pregnant. i actually miss it.

anyway, i'm going to bed now if only to apologize profusely to my wonderful husband. it's weird though how an apology can feel so commonplace now, and maybe useless in a way, like teaching a turtle how to fetch.

is it a lamb? is it a purse?

after my daughter was born (on 03/03/03) my cousin, wyndee, sent this as a gift. now, my daughter is old enough to appreciate it. she loves this little guy. well, we're talking about the same child who has a fond attachment to my husband's shoe horn.


view #1


view #2



view #3 (wtf?!)


anyway, somewhere in a factory in china, there's someone laughing hysterically in quality control.

i dedicate this post to you! i applaud you! :') signed, former garment industry slave.

cookie monster? chicagoland resident...

warning - you may want to shoo your sesame street fanatics outta the room...

ok. are they gone?

i just don't want to burst any "big-bird-is-real" bubbles. (well, of COURSE, big bird is real, sweetie!!!)

i should preface this by saying - i am a HUGE sesame street fan. well, more muppet show than sesame street, but you know what i mean... so, i was recently informed that a friend of mine is friends with a sesame street muppeteer. AND not only, does she KNOW a muppeteer. she was allowed BEHIND the scenes at sesame street during a recent visit to nyc. (you suck, meemers - but thanks for my hot (as in, stolen) bowling shoes.) she actually got to meet many of the voices behind the muppets including the voice of elmo, kevin clash (who also did the voice for baby sinclair on the 80s prime time show, "dinosaurs").

this encouraged me to google sesame street in hopes of finding my own way into "the inner sanctum" (lotta good that did me - nada, zip, zilch, gornischt). anyway, i came upon an intesting factoid...

cookie monster is an illinois resident! :) *doing the roger rabbit* that's right! we have john cusack, oprah AND cookie monster. CHICAGO ROCKS! nee nar nee nar nee nar....

anyway, listen to the chicago public radio interview with david rudman here . david rudman is also the voice of baby bear and strangely, the fingerman from the ziploc bag commercials. don't remember that guy? count yourself in the "haves".

in conclusion, a) i have to somehow beg, cheat or steal my way into sesame street. and b) i have GOT to see that show avenue q on broadway. (the story (told with puppets and former/current muppeteers!!!) of a nyc newbie, his hood - avenue q - and its eclectic collection of neighbors, including gary coleman as the bldgs super.) the reviews have been great, not to mention the nod (three tony awards, including best musical) from the theatre community. c) i have to get off my *ss & rescue my daughter from the foreign madness that is lazy town.

nigella, so close and yet so far...

years ago, i actually took cooking lessons - really expensive, intensive, you-might-as-well-be-attending-culinary-school-with-the-amount-of-time-&-money-you're-spending-on-a-few-weeks-of-lessons - from Tante Marie in san francisco. if you're looking for basic cooking lessons - i highly recommend this school and its classes.

anywho... of the many things i gleaned (i love that word) from my steamy, spicey, aromatic time at the cooking class - the rejuvenating quality of lemongrass soup , sell your organs for a set of good knives, honey + bourbon + carrots = yum! - i was introduced to the recipes of Nigella Lawson.

she truly is the domestic goddess i wants ta be when i grows up and grows up and grows up. and if i were a guy, i wouldn't kick her outta bed either. it's very complex, my love for nigella, who just happens to be on a book tour and just happenned to visit this midwestern hamlet this past weekend... *sigh*

i patiently waited a full hour (just an hour?) for nigella. in that hour, i moved five feet - MAYBE. (the above pic was taken on the sly, as close as i could get without getting hauled away and with a zoom lens) but her new book, which i shoulda bought (but i could not stand in another line!), Feast, is filled with her wonderful comforting recipes dressed in her comedy and wit. i do have her earlier book, How To Eat, which is underlined, dogeared, stained with soy sauce and oily now. i have yet to attempt her "white-trash (how un-PC!) lunch for 6" which includes ham in coca-cola, parsley potatoes, snow peas and young peas and cherry pie. but, the easy peasy carbonara recipe is awesome!

anyway, nigella, wherever you are, you truly inspire me, but there was no way i was missing a dinner at NoMi - even for you. stalking will resume from afar....

four words.

the amazing race six

if you haven't seen this show. you have got to watch it tonight! tivo, if you must! it's a two hour season premiere. this is the best reality show on TV. i don't watch reality show really, but this one hooked me from season one. for you TAR fans - did you guys hear that old teams would be running commentary this season? i don't know how i feel about flo's whine echoing thru my house.

>:(

oh yeah, i've heard a rumor that TAR6 actually started here in chicago. i can't believe i missed them!!!!

...i am yarn-less...

and so begins another quest for another creative process... anyone got a writing excercise just lying around?

i've seen one circulating on the blogs - something about grabbing a book and opening to page 23 and quoting the fifth sentence. hello, john irving. hello, john wheelwright.

"It was a stone church, and there was a ground floor or even underground mustiness to the place, which was overcrowded with dark wood bric-a-brac, somber with dull organ pipes, garish with confused configurations of stained glass - through which not a single branch of tree was visible." (ok, so that was the sixth sentence. the fifth sentence smelled like feet and *ss. )

i saw another one on the Ellis Paul discussion forum that looked interesting:

1) Name your character-- Do you use the real name, just their first name, or something suggestive that perhaps adds some anonymity, or color to the story... Your choice, but be careful, you don't want someone to get mad at you...

2) Describe five items in the persons bedroom. what do these items tell you about the character? How old is the character? what does he like to do? How does he live?

3) The Character looks into a mirror, what does he see? name five things... what do these things show us about the character? how does he take care of his appearance. Is he proud of himself? Shy? Disappointed? Where is his ego?

4) Assign the character two colors... colors literally paint a scene or a person... you might only use a color in passing, but it helps create mood and understanding. what do these suggest?

5) assign the character a non human twin... this creates a metaphor, for the person-- solid as an oak tree-- wise as an owl... that type of thing-- don't be afraid of feeling like you are reaching when writing this one down, you can disguise and smarten it up when you frame it in a sentence or song lyric... so it looks less like Disney when it's edited...

6) Give your character a voice-- what does he sound like-- what might he say? what does this reveal about your character?

ok, so that's a start - in the meantime, i really am looking for plus d'excercises d'écriture.

so, share the wealth already.

thank you for reading my blog, all of you anonymous blog explosion readers!

i really just wanted to say thank you - i appreciate you taking the time (personally, i can do many things in 30 sec - due to a program that auto-installs when you have a child) to stop and read my pointless, misspelled & grammatically challenged blather...

i'm new to the blog phenomena, blogger and especially new to blog explosion and it's sparkle*y accessories. i just noticed (when i clicked on basically everything you could possibly click on) that 3 people voted favorably for this, my humble blog, and that two readers have actually blogmarked me. so, THANKS! :) oh, and where ARE my manners?!

HI! howareya!? *waving to screen* i'll talkatcha soon!

things i would want for christmas if i was still 7 years old.

"...Includes recipes from: Rick Bayless, Mark Bittman, Erik Blauberg, Flo Braker, Clare Crespo, Tom Douglas, Rob Feenie, Bobby Flay, Gale Gand, Eleni Gianopolous, Martin Howard, Mollie Katzen, David Lebovitz, Emily Luchetti, Alice Medrich, Mary Sue Milliken, Cindy Pawlcyn, Caprial Pence, Guillermo Pernot, Colette Peters, Anne Quatrano, Amy Scherber, Rob Seideman, Art Smith, Walter Staib, Sherry Yard..."

"...eatery has over 40 funky pieces, including chairs, a revolving sushi table, chopsticks, and a karaoke stage with mike..."


"....VOICE FX technology allows action figures to not only shout commands and talk, but it also causes realistic facial movements of the characters...."

who am i kidding? i still want this stuff at 32. and i still have toys from my childhood that i hide from my child.

there are 1,440 minutes in a 24 hour day. i have already thought of myself as a horrible mother once today - only 1,439 times to go.

beastie boys! scratch and sniff.

by the end of the weekend (beastie boys, hideout, bowling), coats were getting aired out all over the house. my poor lungs - i feel like i was wearing them outside, scarf-like.

speaking of which... of the many high points from the beastie boys show i can include - my fake burberry scarf (it's a souvenir from my honemoon in venice) getting dissed, drinking "wine-from-a-box" brand vino @ $6.50/dixie cup and NOT getting carded >:( but despite these petit snafus- the beastie boys (showing a teeny tiny itty bitty little age) r o c k e d.

if you haven't seen this show - by all means, do yourself a favor and get your rheumatic fanny to whatever large impersonal arena is hosting this circus NOW (no, i can't translate this into italian, sorry). if you like vegas show dogs, the bass turned up and the beatbox in your chest cavity, your favorite arcade game playing on large concert screens, ruffle tuxedo shirts and the familiar garage screenprint tee - you will like this show. it's excessive and anthemic and yet, you'll feel right at home.

here's a link to their blog featuring the set list and comments - unforunately, no comments from the boys about the chicago show - http://www.beastieboys.com/blog.php?&page=4

and lastly, to the unknown lovely girl who was sitting next to me who was going in for chemo treatments the following day- BIG WARM HUGS - can't stop thinking about you! to the tall jerks who nicked the seats in front of me - a UTI on your bachelor pad! to S - thank you for reminding me that even though i feel (and probably look) 40 - i'm still in my early 30s and more than overly qualified to shake my old school *ss with the p.y.t.

knitting palooza!!!

i actually made something!!!

i am a knitting fiend. if i can't hear the scritch scritch of graphite on cold press bristol board i guess the clicking of metal (yuck) knitting needles will have to suffice. would you buy this scarf from me? or here's another prop - if you buy the yarn, i will make you a scarf. i'll post a pic of the another one i'm finishing later. i need to visit ye olde art supply store... oh, creative process, you are the butch to my femme.

to shower or to blog? that is the question.

...i can't believe i'm sitting here typing.


a severed hand - realistic, no?

my little pets here turned out to be the hit of the front porch yesterday. so glad the postman doesn't deliver on sundays. he would've had my head on a plate - he's a very surly & unpredictable man, the neighborhood postal worker...

well, my display of 288 spiders really didn't look all that impressive. you'd think that 288 spiders would prove to be a daunting obstacle course (yeah, they're fake. but their shiny, black, eight legged, heebie jeebie creepie crawlie-ness is evident nonetheless).

the littlest kids were only slightly freaked out (due to the ratio of LARGE dad to tiny spider). it seemed they were more disturbed by the bloody severed hand (mwahahahahahaha!) than the spiders. so, i'll have to saunter off into the halloween sunset and retool my plague scenario for next year.

the wierd thing is that in the light of this morning it looks as if i have fewer than 288 spiders. which could mean many (ok, 3.) things:

1) kids have absconded with my spiders
2) birds and squirrels have absconded with my spiders
3) the spiders are actually real and were shipped to me in a state of suspended animation. during the night, they woke up and are eagerly awaiting my bidding (they owe me since i cut off their rings - the shackle of indentured servitude to some high school goth wannabe) somewhere in the deep dark recesses of the house.

please Lord, let my plastic ringless minions be hungry and make them eat all the freakin' infidel ants!

...like you needed proof that i'm hormonal...

so, much to my delight - mothers and company came back to prove me hormonal. not like anyone needed proof - it's been quite evident ever since the 7th grade.

anyway, mothers & co found another group with an opening and children the same age as e. so, without much in the way of "below-standard-daytime-melodrama", e and i were branded and given the secret entry handshake. i really hope this works out 'cause this branding looks permanent.

so, to update, the rest of friday was insane. it had started well indeed and slowly unraveled into a miasmatic (is that a word?) dimension of h*ll. d asked me if e liked the train rides. of COURSE, she liked the train rides. did I like the train rides? um, in a word, NO! to ride a train with e is like injecting her with pure caffeine. i think i avoided a couple of lawsuits - harassment by cheerio, death by stroller and random acts of infant vandalism - and i don't think i burst a blood vessel.

because that happened on the NEXT train ride. i rarely have a hard time on the L so, the law of averages bit my *ss this time. e managed to get away from me at the lasalle st stop. and the last vision i had before my blood vessel burst was of e running out to the platform while i was stuck struggling to free myself and the stroller from the clutches of the the dreaded turnstile. do we not possess the technology to replace the archaic turnstile? is this what they are hiding in area 51?!

so, thanks to the powers that be, e did not fall to her untimely death and i was saved by a bored transit employee.

finally, we arrived at our (first) destination and the pediatrician's conclusion - e is very tall and of average weight though still something of a pinhead. but, all in all - a beautiful healthy girl.

*heavens open, sunlight streams thru, cherubims sing* .... and that will be $65 please.

that marvelous day continued with an entirely too lengthy walk for me and e (in stroller) and a headache that i still have despite the walkabout ending at the chiropractor office. afterwards, d met us at the office and drove us home in very unhappy, heavy, third world traffic.

my conclusion - none of us were likely candidates for darwin awards that "banner" day - SO YAY US! :)

p.s. laundry still not done. made yummy pork chops for dinner!

laundry

i REALLY have to do the laundry and whip up dinner... so i'll make this quick.

a) speaking of laundry. d needs to go back to the eye doc or something. i keep finding e's clothes in my piles and my clothes is e's piles. mind you - e is the average 19mo baby daughter. i am 5'4" and apprx 120 lbs. how could i possibly fit into an 18mo outfit? and conversely, how could an 18mo fit into anything i wear without it puddling to the ground (assuming it of course stayed ON)?

b) another thought i had today... i think my strollers are conspiring against me or at least trying to sway this undecided voter. the maclaren (the imported) stroller has lately been leaning left. SERIOUSLY. it has never done this before. with very little forward action, the maclaren will steer left.

but what's even STRANGER... the (gently used, domestic) baby jogger II that i just recently bought from K leans right. no kidding. with very little forward push, the jogging stroller steers right. it's very odd.

i'm still undecided, but noticing that i'm using the jogging stroller more often than the maclaren. i'm going to stop talking about this because it's giving me the willies - a little too "Bobos in Paradise" for me.

c) i have to remember to:

cancel my hair appt, reschedule for 6 wks from now.
make a new chiro appt
call the electrician again (the things i do for halloween)
send netflix movies back
call d&s for final $ amt owed to them & for v's #
call cat groomers for appt.

what am i feeling today...

besides mild cramping? hmm...

i guess frustration.

i'm disappointed that e and i have been placed in a playgroup with a 4mo, a6mo and a 10mo. that bugs me, frankly. i will most likely not join this playgroup. thanks for nothing, "mothers & co".

i'm bummed that instead of greeting me with a "good morning", i get a "you HAVE to air the house out. it smells like chicken." good freaking morning to you too!

i'm exhausted just looking at the kitchen. i never seem to make a dent in there. and we even use paper plates - A LOT!

my "workday" starts the minute i wake up and doesn't end until e goes down. that's what? a 12 hour day? and i can't even apply for workers comp or harassment. if i had a dime for every elbow to the nose/breast/windpipe. i would be.... broke, but not penniless.

i feel absolutely crummy today... we're ordering in.

please pimp your ride....

so, e and i almost got run over today while crossing a street with a four way stop in our HUGE RED jogging stroller.

this guy is talking on his cell phone (of course). the bass on his stereo system is turned WAY up - so far up that the windows are shaking. e and i were already in the intersection. the guy in a HOOPTI BEIGE MINIVAN (!) is approaching the stop sign and blows it! *insert schreech here* missing my posterior by inches...

so, please unknown man. stay off yer cell and pimp yer ride... ya look RIDICULOUS!!!

ya learn something new everyday

i just saw the weirdest looking bird... the cassowary. it is a flightless, fast running, pugnacious forest dwelling bird in Australia and Malay, smaller than the ostrich and emu. i don't quite get the evolution of the freaky helmet used for "forest crashing". there's a fashion victim if i ever saw one. i also learned that the ostrich DOES NOT actually bury it's head in the sand. is NO metaphor sacred!?

apparently, we will not be running haphazardly with the other frenzied children tomorrow (DARN!) and next week, swim class is cancelled due to the repairing of a hole (strangely, a perfect women's size 8) in the pool. it's a mystery.

the plastic spiders arrived and have been de-ringed. they are ringless. strange how they keep popping up everywhere. i suspect the cats get into the bag and toss them around willy nilly in the twilight hours.

the severed bloody hand is very disappointing... the designer/manufacturer is a hack. you'd think they'd never seen a hand before. hmmm, in some circles that last statement could be considered very politically incorrect. i apologize.

today is my fourth wedding anniversary and all i can think of as a gift for d is the third season of the simpsons. not a shining moment for me. i'm usually much more creative. it's a beautiful day- i wish he wasn't working. :(

so, i checked out that virtual model website (http://www.myvirtualmodel.com) .
and this sorta looks like me.
it's very disturbing.

all i want is a GIANT bag of spiders!!!

so... that's the extent of my imagination when it comes to halloween.... i want to litter the front yard, steps and porch with plastic spiders. there's a simplicity to it that appeals to me.

you want candy? the least you can do is walk thru a legion of black spiders... mwahahahahahaha! and yet, i can't find a bag of black spiders - anywhere. there is obviously a shortage of black spiders - my idea is not so original after all.

still no ideas about costumes for e. clown, bobbysoxer, and tinkerbell are no longer in the realm of possibilities. this morning, tattoo from fantasy island came up... still ruminating over that one.

my pumpkins look awesome. i carved a ghost in one and a skull head on another. the trip to children's farm was worth it - worth the crazy baby pigs chasing after my daughter, worth the cold that it seems i'm developing from who knows what that i picked up, worth the little kids staring at me (some things just never change)... achoo! achoo!

ugh. achoo! looking forward to this weekend in lake geneva! must find a more flattering swimsuit!

hearing loss

i think i've experienced hearing loss since the birth of e. can i apply for workers comp/disability?

the pantry has sprung a drip. turns out the tank to the upstairs toilet was leaking... i think it was lamenting since no one uses it. it's e's bathroom - she can't even say "potty". and so, the hemorraging of money continues.

oh! and i can't open the front door. the lock jammed. ... a call to the locksmith is in. why do i have to be here when the locksmith arrives? it's not like he can't let himself in. ok, yeah, there is the whole security factor... but really, in an ideal world... he could come in, fix the lock and bill me. well, he could....

...must. start. reading... middlesex/eugenides for book club! if only to prove to myself that i can still read past the kindergarten level.

hmm, i think i have been food poisioned by the wendy's.

flowers and a tan

d came home with some lovely flowers. :)

i always forget to tell him things that happen during the day or phonecalls that were made/received.

like - a woman complimented me out of the blue the other day saying. "my, what a lovely tan you have! has anyone ever told you that?" i said "no, but thank you" (thinking since i'm filipino). but a compliment nonetheless.

and t and s called to ask for the handyman's # and were just so nice - so glad were neighbors.

e is able to say more and more words. she picked up "cheerio", "ball" and "cute" recently.

feeling better about the whole flea fiasco... sort of. have to buy plastic pants!

what does a lizard say?

what does a lizard say? 

fleas

so, it's been a while...

last night, i couldn't sleep because we found out the cats had fleas...

and how did i come to this conclusion? i got in bed. turned off the light. and got bit by a flea on my left arm three times. yes, i am officially "flea bitten". that's right, laugh it up.

thankfully, the pest guys come on friday to spray for all manner of milipede, spider and ant... adding flea to the list shouldn't be so hard... disgusting, yes, by all means... oh, and the cats are getting dipped this weekend. ha.

anyway, e has been awful clingy lately. esthetically, it suits me. i love it. especially when she needs to hug me while she gobbles up cheerios. on the practical side of things, she is the rock to my sisyphus (sp?).

have to think up halloween stuff. have to talk/write to i.