We are having strangely summer-like weather here in the middle of the country. I can't even call it a proper Indian summer-- it's summer, plain and simple.
I know it's probably related to global warming and doom, but it's kind of nice.
Elle's sound asleep right now; on the video monitor I can see her sprawled on her back, her little polkadot skirt all up around her waist, her hair tousled, her cheeks rosy. (It's a black and white monitor, but I know they're rosy.) Seriously, she's adorable. And I'm not at all biased.
When she gets up we are going out. OUT. Well, there will probably be a snack first (she's not eating much this weekend, again) but then we are going out to drink in every bit of this beautiful day. There will probably be a visit to the park in there somewhere, as well. You can't waste a day like today, after all.
No big updates, really. At the end of it, life-- whether you're single, married, a parent, or childless-- isn't always about the big updates. It's the little day-to-day things, good and bad, that make up the fabric of your life. Right now, they're mostly good things, and I count my blessings every single day.
Showing posts with label life in the big city. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life in the big city. Show all posts
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Soup, naps, and once in a century happenings
Completely random thought: hot and sour soup is awesome.
By posting this I may be jinxing myself forever, but Elle seems-- seems-- to be settling into being a better napper. I know! It's amazing! I wondered if going to the babysitter's might lead in this direction, and it has. For now.
I'm getting a morning nap and two shorter afternoon naps. This is apparently pretty normal for her age, and I couldn't be more thrilled. She's getting the sleep she needs, and I have a few times during the day where I can get stuff done around the house. Or sit and ponder eternity. Or read trashy magazines. Anything!
What no one ever tells you is that, no matter how much you adore your child, if you have a baby that's up for hours and hours at a stretch, you can just plain run out of things to do. Elle can entertain herself for short periods of time, but she's social and likes interaction. If she's up for ten hours straight, not only is she a crabbypants because she needs sleep, she's increasingly difficult to keep occupied. I'm just not that inventive, apparently.
Which leads to last Saturday evening's 2+ hour screaming marathon. Tired babies are nobody's friend. Tired moms are nobody's friend, either.
So we had a great day today, including naps, and a visit to the Garfield Park Conservatory with a friend. GPC is one of Chicago's hidden treasures, I believe, and I get out there a few times a year. (In the middle of a Chicago winter, it restores your faith that yes, someday, you will see green again!) It doesn't take all that long to go through, but it was a nice break.
Elle loves looking up at trees and leaves and the play of light on leaves, so the GPC was fascinating for her. As usual, she looked very thoughtful and a little bit worried as she watches what's going on over her head, but her concentration never wavered. And I got to have a good catch-up with a friend.
Part of the reason we went today was that the Conservatory's agave plant is flowering-- which, in the plant's 100 year lifespan, generally happens only once. It's so tall they've even taken out a pane of glass in the top of the conservatory. It was kind of cool. Yes, I'm a geek. I own it!
In the past I've gone and taken lots of pictures; today I didn't even pull out the camera. I'll have to do so next time.
And now, because my little girl is (hopefully) sound asleep, I'm going to treat myself to an hour of TV before falling into bed.
Saturday night in the fast lane, people. Try to keep up.
By posting this I may be jinxing myself forever, but Elle seems-- seems-- to be settling into being a better napper. I know! It's amazing! I wondered if going to the babysitter's might lead in this direction, and it has. For now.
I'm getting a morning nap and two shorter afternoon naps. This is apparently pretty normal for her age, and I couldn't be more thrilled. She's getting the sleep she needs, and I have a few times during the day where I can get stuff done around the house. Or sit and ponder eternity. Or read trashy magazines. Anything!
What no one ever tells you is that, no matter how much you adore your child, if you have a baby that's up for hours and hours at a stretch, you can just plain run out of things to do. Elle can entertain herself for short periods of time, but she's social and likes interaction. If she's up for ten hours straight, not only is she a crabbypants because she needs sleep, she's increasingly difficult to keep occupied. I'm just not that inventive, apparently.
Which leads to last Saturday evening's 2+ hour screaming marathon. Tired babies are nobody's friend. Tired moms are nobody's friend, either.
So we had a great day today, including naps, and a visit to the Garfield Park Conservatory with a friend. GPC is one of Chicago's hidden treasures, I believe, and I get out there a few times a year. (In the middle of a Chicago winter, it restores your faith that yes, someday, you will see green again!) It doesn't take all that long to go through, but it was a nice break.
Elle loves looking up at trees and leaves and the play of light on leaves, so the GPC was fascinating for her. As usual, she looked very thoughtful and a little bit worried as she watches what's going on over her head, but her concentration never wavered. And I got to have a good catch-up with a friend.
Part of the reason we went today was that the Conservatory's agave plant is flowering-- which, in the plant's 100 year lifespan, generally happens only once. It's so tall they've even taken out a pane of glass in the top of the conservatory. It was kind of cool. Yes, I'm a geek. I own it!
In the past I've gone and taken lots of pictures; today I didn't even pull out the camera. I'll have to do so next time.
And now, because my little girl is (hopefully) sound asleep, I'm going to treat myself to an hour of TV before falling into bed.
Saturday night in the fast lane, people. Try to keep up.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Time flies
Seriously. My baby is eight weeks old already. When the heck did that happen? Really, when?
Elle's still not on much of a schedule, but is at least a little bit predictable-- to the point where I can do a bit of advance prep in terms of preparing bottles, or knowing about what time to head upstairs to start the going-to-bed routine. It helps.
When she's awake, she's almost always happy. I am so lucky. She likes going out and seeing the world (easier when it's not 0ver 90 degrees and humid), she likes new faces and people talking to her, and she likes light/windows/shiny things. She interacts with the ceiling fan in my bedroom-- coos and warbles and chirps, as if telling the ceiling fan how awesome he is. (What gender is a ceiling fan, anyway?) She doesn't quite yet see well enough to find mirrors fascinating, although they're definitely more interesting than they were even a week ago.
In other words, she's a pretty typical baby: just wants to be loved and interacted with. Oh, and fed on a very regular basis.
She's napping right now-- woke up early and hungry, snarfed down several ounces, and passed right out. My friend E-- who was my fabulous acupuncturist-- handed me down a rocker thingy (this one), and Elle is much more willing to nap in this than she is in her pac.k and play or her crib, so she's in that and I've had a chance to do some exciting things like start some laundry, wash a bottle... you know, that fun stuff.
E also gave me a ton of clothes and probably $100 worth of diapers that her daughter had grown out of. I'm reminded, again, of the generosity that's out there. Not just generosity of stuff (though diapers are so, so welcome), but generosity of spirit. It's scary being a single mother, and sometime I'll do a post about that. But the support and friendship and love I've gotten from everyone has been humbing and amazing. From the friend who comes over every Tuesday after work, just to help, to people who call to check in, to diapers...
It's hard and scary, especially in this economy, to be a single parent. But I think we'll be OK.
Someone's waking up (and sadly, it's not me) so I'm off. And truly off-- I'm headed out of town at the end of the week to visit family, so they can show Elle off. My plans include naps and getting some sun, since the grandparents will be more than happy to take Miss Elle and spoil her rotten. (And probably do a variety of things I'd rather they not do, including feeding her rice cereal; but that's another post.)
See you mid-September!
Elle's still not on much of a schedule, but is at least a little bit predictable-- to the point where I can do a bit of advance prep in terms of preparing bottles, or knowing about what time to head upstairs to start the going-to-bed routine. It helps.
When she's awake, she's almost always happy. I am so lucky. She likes going out and seeing the world (easier when it's not 0ver 90 degrees and humid), she likes new faces and people talking to her, and she likes light/windows/shiny things. She interacts with the ceiling fan in my bedroom-- coos and warbles and chirps, as if telling the ceiling fan how awesome he is. (What gender is a ceiling fan, anyway?) She doesn't quite yet see well enough to find mirrors fascinating, although they're definitely more interesting than they were even a week ago.
In other words, she's a pretty typical baby: just wants to be loved and interacted with. Oh, and fed on a very regular basis.
She's napping right now-- woke up early and hungry, snarfed down several ounces, and passed right out. My friend E-- who was my fabulous acupuncturist-- handed me down a rocker thingy (this one), and Elle is much more willing to nap in this than she is in her pac.k and play or her crib, so she's in that and I've had a chance to do some exciting things like start some laundry, wash a bottle... you know, that fun stuff.
E also gave me a ton of clothes and probably $100 worth of diapers that her daughter had grown out of. I'm reminded, again, of the generosity that's out there. Not just generosity of stuff (though diapers are so, so welcome), but generosity of spirit. It's scary being a single mother, and sometime I'll do a post about that. But the support and friendship and love I've gotten from everyone has been humbing and amazing. From the friend who comes over every Tuesday after work, just to help, to people who call to check in, to diapers...
It's hard and scary, especially in this economy, to be a single parent. But I think we'll be OK.
Someone's waking up (and sadly, it's not me) so I'm off. And truly off-- I'm headed out of town at the end of the week to visit family, so they can show Elle off. My plans include naps and getting some sun, since the grandparents will be more than happy to take Miss Elle and spoil her rotten. (And probably do a variety of things I'd rather they not do, including feeding her rice cereal; but that's another post.)
See you mid-September!
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Pillow Talk
In general, when you're pregnant, sleeping becomes more challenging.
(Many people say it's putting you in training for when there's an actual baby onsite, who may or may not have any idea what "middle of the night" means.)
You can't sleep on your stomach, because your stomach is sticking out in front of you-- ow. You generally can't sleep on your back (according to the American Pregnancy Association, which I've never heard of but found through the magic of Google, "This can cause problems with backaches, breathing, digestive system, hemorrhoids, low blood pressure and decrease in circulation to your heart and your baby. This is a result of your abdomen resting on your intestines and major blood vessels (the aorta and vena cava).")
Under normal circumstances, guess which positions I sleep in 90% of the time?
So I'm now an unwilling side-sleeper. And along with me for the ride on this is an elaborate pillow setup. Currently, there are three pillows involved in settling in for the night:
1. A nice pillow under my head.
2. A long pillow on my left side, which is the optimal side to sleep on. (Here's why.)
3. Another, shorter pillow on my right side.
(This is going to be interesting when it gets into the hot weather, when I don't like anything touching me...)
I try to fall asleep on my left side, with the pillow against me and the bottom part of the pillow between my knees. Over the course of the night, I'll wake up in a variety of positions, of course, and I'll try to reposition myself.
The pillows are key to this. They are partially designed to keep me from rollling on my back like a beached whale, and partially so I can fling one arm over a pillow on either side and feel more supported. It's all very complicated. When I get up to use the washroom and then come back to bed, I have to go through the whole pillow-positioning routine again. And then again.
Thank goodness I have extra pillows in the first case.
And, for the record? I know perfectly well I may have a baby that thinks the middle of the night is the perfect time to exercise her lungs for her future opera career. However, in the few moments she allows me to get some shuteye, at least I'll be able to get that sleep on my stomach or flat on my back.
That sounds pretty great to me.
**
I finally talked to a friend yesterday who didn't know about the baby-- we'd traded a bunch of phone calls earlier in the year, but between my work schedule and her extremely busy mom-of-three schedule (and her youngest is special needs), we didn't connect and it fell off both our radars. Now the news is getting out at work (seriously, it's about time), she heard something at a party last weekend, and shot me an e-mail that basically said "Call me, or I'll hunt you down like a rabid dog." (It didn't say that, of course, because she's a kind and lovely person. But it was Stern; had a definite mom-vibe to it. In a good way.)
I was a little worried about her reaction. She's an extremely conservative Christi.n. But I should have known better-- she's the only conservative Christi.n I've ever met who doesn't judge others on her standards. And, if she loves you, that trumps everything.
She was thrilled, and it was so good to talk to her. I'm not sharing details widely (except in my blog, which all the world can see, of course-- heh), but I trust her and it was just nice to chat.
She sent an e-mail later, after our call, and it teared me up. Her last line was "You were made for this."
I hope she's right. Whether or not she is, I'm incredibly lucky to have the support and love of so many amazing people in my life.
And now, before the hormones again turn me into Weepy McSobberson, I'm heading out to Tar.get. I'd make a joke about my boring weekend, but it's not going to be boring at all-- tonight is ROLLER DERBY.
Ha! I can't wait.
(Many people say it's putting you in training for when there's an actual baby onsite, who may or may not have any idea what "middle of the night" means.)
You can't sleep on your stomach, because your stomach is sticking out in front of you-- ow. You generally can't sleep on your back (according to the American Pregnancy Association, which I've never heard of but found through the magic of Google, "This can cause problems with backaches, breathing, digestive system, hemorrhoids, low blood pressure and decrease in circulation to your heart and your baby. This is a result of your abdomen resting on your intestines and major blood vessels (the aorta and vena cava).")
Under normal circumstances, guess which positions I sleep in 90% of the time?
So I'm now an unwilling side-sleeper. And along with me for the ride on this is an elaborate pillow setup. Currently, there are three pillows involved in settling in for the night:
1. A nice pillow under my head.
2. A long pillow on my left side, which is the optimal side to sleep on. (Here's why.)
3. Another, shorter pillow on my right side.
(This is going to be interesting when it gets into the hot weather, when I don't like anything touching me...)
I try to fall asleep on my left side, with the pillow against me and the bottom part of the pillow between my knees. Over the course of the night, I'll wake up in a variety of positions, of course, and I'll try to reposition myself.
The pillows are key to this. They are partially designed to keep me from rollling on my back like a beached whale, and partially so I can fling one arm over a pillow on either side and feel more supported. It's all very complicated. When I get up to use the washroom and then come back to bed, I have to go through the whole pillow-positioning routine again. And then again.
Thank goodness I have extra pillows in the first case.
And, for the record? I know perfectly well I may have a baby that thinks the middle of the night is the perfect time to exercise her lungs for her future opera career. However, in the few moments she allows me to get some shuteye, at least I'll be able to get that sleep on my stomach or flat on my back.
That sounds pretty great to me.
**
I finally talked to a friend yesterday who didn't know about the baby-- we'd traded a bunch of phone calls earlier in the year, but between my work schedule and her extremely busy mom-of-three schedule (and her youngest is special needs), we didn't connect and it fell off both our radars. Now the news is getting out at work (seriously, it's about time), she heard something at a party last weekend, and shot me an e-mail that basically said "Call me, or I'll hunt you down like a rabid dog." (It didn't say that, of course, because she's a kind and lovely person. But it was Stern; had a definite mom-vibe to it. In a good way.)
I was a little worried about her reaction. She's an extremely conservative Christi.n. But I should have known better-- she's the only conservative Christi.n I've ever met who doesn't judge others on her standards. And, if she loves you, that trumps everything.
She was thrilled, and it was so good to talk to her. I'm not sharing details widely (except in my blog, which all the world can see, of course-- heh), but I trust her and it was just nice to chat.
She sent an e-mail later, after our call, and it teared me up. Her last line was "You were made for this."
I hope she's right. Whether or not she is, I'm incredibly lucky to have the support and love of so many amazing people in my life.
And now, before the hormones again turn me into Weepy McSobberson, I'm heading out to Tar.get. I'd make a joke about my boring weekend, but it's not going to be boring at all-- tonight is ROLLER DERBY.
Ha! I can't wait.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Rainy days and Sundays
It's always hard to motivate when it's gloomy and spitting rain, off and on. It's the kind of day where sitting inside, curled up with a blanket and a good book, sounds ideal. I suppose I should take advantage of those opportunities now, hm?
Despite the gloom, I did make it to church, to the produce market, and to the gym. Also managed to do a menu plan for the week and throw together some salads for easy lunch-packing. This is the last week of the childbirth class (we meet twice, with one as a make-up session) so I'm pretty much not home until Friday. I've learned the hard way that if I don't take a few minutes to think about meals, I end up eating out, spending money I shouldn't spend, and eating food that's not as healthy as it would be if I packed it myself.
(I'm still eating stuff I shouldn't, of course. Just less of it. Hold on a moment while I eat another vanilla wafer, please...)
**
(Warning: Musical theatre geekery ahead.)
Last night, I went to a production of Chess at a small cabaret-style theatre on the north side of the city. I've gone there once before for their production of Evita and enjoyed it very much. Evita is, in my mind, a big show, and they did an excellent job of mounting the production in an incredibly tight space. (It's also a show I can sing from start to finish with few errors, so I'm picky.)
The book for Chess is, at best, terrible; as one of my friends said last night, "Who thought it would be a good idea in the 80s to write a musical about chess matches?" But looking past some of the truly dreadful plotting the music is gorgeous, and I have a soft spot for the show. It's not staged often, and once again this company did a good job with the show in a limited space.
In particular, the actor playing Freddie (Courtney Crouse) was excellent. I normally have limited interest in Freddie as a character, but last night he was the one I really focused on throughout the show; his "Pity the Child" was incredible (and definitive, for me at least). It's difficult to play that kind of assholish character and give him any kind of layers, but Crouse does it beautifully. I'll be looking for him in future productions around the city, and assuming I'm ever able to actually leave the house post-baby, I'll attend productions simply because he's in them. Yes, he impressed me that much.
Jeremy Trager as Anatoly has a beautiful voice (I could listen to him sing all day) and throws himself into the role with dedication; he was good, but he was a better Peron. Maggie Portman as Florence also has a stellar voice (she was Evita for the same theatre company), but she never really gelled as Florence for me. She's not bad. I'm not sure she's capable of being bad; she's too talented. But Florence has moments of real, wrenching vulnerability, and Portman has trouble backing away enough to truly sell that vulnerability. (Also, she kept scrunching up her face. That's not acting, that's scrunching up your face. All of us who attended commented on it, actually; it became distracting.)
Overall, it was a good evening, and a production well worth seeing.
Next Saturday, for a change of pace, I'm going to the ROLLER DERBY. No, I'm not kidding.
I can't wait.
What does a seven-months-pregnant woman (who's finally popped, by the way) wear to the ROLLER DERBY? I have no idea. But it will be a lot of fun figuring it out...
Despite the gloom, I did make it to church, to the produce market, and to the gym. Also managed to do a menu plan for the week and throw together some salads for easy lunch-packing. This is the last week of the childbirth class (we meet twice, with one as a make-up session) so I'm pretty much not home until Friday. I've learned the hard way that if I don't take a few minutes to think about meals, I end up eating out, spending money I shouldn't spend, and eating food that's not as healthy as it would be if I packed it myself.
(I'm still eating stuff I shouldn't, of course. Just less of it. Hold on a moment while I eat another vanilla wafer, please...)
**
(Warning: Musical theatre geekery ahead.)
Last night, I went to a production of Chess at a small cabaret-style theatre on the north side of the city. I've gone there once before for their production of Evita and enjoyed it very much. Evita is, in my mind, a big show, and they did an excellent job of mounting the production in an incredibly tight space. (It's also a show I can sing from start to finish with few errors, so I'm picky.)
The book for Chess is, at best, terrible; as one of my friends said last night, "Who thought it would be a good idea in the 80s to write a musical about chess matches?" But looking past some of the truly dreadful plotting the music is gorgeous, and I have a soft spot for the show. It's not staged often, and once again this company did a good job with the show in a limited space.
In particular, the actor playing Freddie (Courtney Crouse) was excellent. I normally have limited interest in Freddie as a character, but last night he was the one I really focused on throughout the show; his "Pity the Child" was incredible (and definitive, for me at least). It's difficult to play that kind of assholish character and give him any kind of layers, but Crouse does it beautifully. I'll be looking for him in future productions around the city, and assuming I'm ever able to actually leave the house post-baby, I'll attend productions simply because he's in them. Yes, he impressed me that much.
Jeremy Trager as Anatoly has a beautiful voice (I could listen to him sing all day) and throws himself into the role with dedication; he was good, but he was a better Peron. Maggie Portman as Florence also has a stellar voice (she was Evita for the same theatre company), but she never really gelled as Florence for me. She's not bad. I'm not sure she's capable of being bad; she's too talented. But Florence has moments of real, wrenching vulnerability, and Portman has trouble backing away enough to truly sell that vulnerability. (Also, she kept scrunching up her face. That's not acting, that's scrunching up your face. All of us who attended commented on it, actually; it became distracting.)
Overall, it was a good evening, and a production well worth seeing.
Next Saturday, for a change of pace, I'm going to the ROLLER DERBY. No, I'm not kidding.
I can't wait.
What does a seven-months-pregnant woman (who's finally popped, by the way) wear to the ROLLER DERBY? I have no idea. But it will be a lot of fun figuring it out...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
One boring life, in bullets
Blogging has been light around here-- even lighter than usual. Sorry about that. Until the childbirth class is over next week, I'm hardly home during the week, which means weekends are spent running around even more than usual. And blogging about the dullness of my life isn't exactly number one with a bullet when I'm either busy or exhausted, or busy and exhausted.
A few things in short format:
- Had a long lovely lunch with P last weekend. The chicken salad was good, but the company was much better. I love how you can not see a friend for a while, but you just pick right up where you left off. I feel very lucky.
- I do not have a dress for the shower(s) yet. Grr. I'm going shopping weekend after next with a friend who has excellent fashion karma, and I'm hoping it will rub off. I did order this dress, because it looks flattering and is a terrific color. (I'll need to shorten it, I'm guessing.) With a cardigan and cute shoes, it may end up being my shower dress. We'll see.
On a side note, maternity clothes, tops in particular, are ugly. Trying to find decent tops I can wear to work-- that aren't ridiculously priced-- is hard. I'll probably spend the last month in Target dresses.
- I also do not have a crib yet. It's a long story, and it's not pretty. I just want it ordered and on the way-- I don't need it here. I need to know it's coming.
(That, by the way, seems to be my particular pregnancy hormonal kink-- if I get something on my mental list of What Must Be Done, it becomes a pretty serious mental issue if it isn't getting done. As in, near-hysteria. Things like dishes or laundry aren't on the list-- which may be for the best-- but the bigger house stuff? That's all on the list, and I get very, very worked up if I'm not making progress on the list. I guess there are worse hormonal kinks I could be stuck with, but this one isn't exactly restful-- especially when I have to depend on others for much of what needs to be done. Argh.)
- I went to the theatre last weekend and saw an... interesting production of Cabaret. (Well-done, yes. But some disconcerting changes, including a subversive female MC.) I'm taking advantage of getting out when I can, pre-baby (seeing another show this weekend)-- but I have to say, the sproglet apparently enjoyed it. She was pretty feisty throughout, which cracked me up (she's not normally an evening fetus).
- People at work STILL have not figured out I'm pregnant. I'm 29 weeks, people, and have a visible belly! I've told people! It's just not getting around. Most people are probably going to realize it next week, when I am teaching a class. Heh.
I hope the people who know don't think I'm ashamed. Would I rather be married (or heck, even partnered) and expecting? Absolutely, for a thousand reasons. But I'm not. Congratulations welcomed regardless. :)
Oy. To sleep I go. Happy Wednesday.
A few things in short format:
- Had a long lovely lunch with P last weekend. The chicken salad was good, but the company was much better. I love how you can not see a friend for a while, but you just pick right up where you left off. I feel very lucky.
- I do not have a dress for the shower(s) yet. Grr. I'm going shopping weekend after next with a friend who has excellent fashion karma, and I'm hoping it will rub off. I did order this dress, because it looks flattering and is a terrific color. (I'll need to shorten it, I'm guessing.) With a cardigan and cute shoes, it may end up being my shower dress. We'll see.
On a side note, maternity clothes, tops in particular, are ugly. Trying to find decent tops I can wear to work-- that aren't ridiculously priced-- is hard. I'll probably spend the last month in Target dresses.
- I also do not have a crib yet. It's a long story, and it's not pretty. I just want it ordered and on the way-- I don't need it here. I need to know it's coming.
(That, by the way, seems to be my particular pregnancy hormonal kink-- if I get something on my mental list of What Must Be Done, it becomes a pretty serious mental issue if it isn't getting done. As in, near-hysteria. Things like dishes or laundry aren't on the list-- which may be for the best-- but the bigger house stuff? That's all on the list, and I get very, very worked up if I'm not making progress on the list. I guess there are worse hormonal kinks I could be stuck with, but this one isn't exactly restful-- especially when I have to depend on others for much of what needs to be done. Argh.)
- I went to the theatre last weekend and saw an... interesting production of Cabaret. (Well-done, yes. But some disconcerting changes, including a subversive female MC.) I'm taking advantage of getting out when I can, pre-baby (seeing another show this weekend)-- but I have to say, the sproglet apparently enjoyed it. She was pretty feisty throughout, which cracked me up (she's not normally an evening fetus).
- People at work STILL have not figured out I'm pregnant. I'm 29 weeks, people, and have a visible belly! I've told people! It's just not getting around. Most people are probably going to realize it next week, when I am teaching a class. Heh.
I hope the people who know don't think I'm ashamed. Would I rather be married (or heck, even partnered) and expecting? Absolutely, for a thousand reasons. But I'm not. Congratulations welcomed regardless. :)
Oy. To sleep I go. Happy Wednesday.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Five good things
1. It was sunny and in the 60s here in the midwest today. Glorious. I went out at lunch and had to wear my sunglasses, and smiled when I got a little too warm in the sunshine.
2. Peanut butter.
3. Someone asked me at work "Are you scolding me?" My response: "Darn right I am!" He laughed and laughed. (He messed up, and I had to give him what-for.)
4. I got an e-mail from G that said only "Rabbits or elephants?" I blinked at it for a few moments, then shot back an e-mail saying "To eat? Or to wear?" (For the record, it was about shower invitations.)
5. Singing along to Journey on the radio while driving home from a doctor's appointment. Singing loud, and not caring if other cars heard.
Happy spring.
2. Peanut butter.
3. Someone asked me at work "Are you scolding me?" My response: "Darn right I am!" He laughed and laughed. (He messed up, and I had to give him what-for.)
4. I got an e-mail from G that said only "Rabbits or elephants?" I blinked at it for a few moments, then shot back an e-mail saying "To eat? Or to wear?" (For the record, it was about shower invitations.)
5. Singing along to Journey on the radio while driving home from a doctor's appointment. Singing loud, and not caring if other cars heard.
Happy spring.
Friday, September 18, 2009
A letter with no love
Dear dude getting off the train with me:
As we go down the stairs together, in a herd of people on their way to work, I understand that sometimes one gets the urge to spit. (Actually, I don't really understand it, but work with me here.) Sometimes, the spit must out.
But really-- does it need to come out on the stairs? When you're not the only one descending said stairs? The spit can't wait another thirty seconds until you're down at street level, where there's a convenient road, and thus a convenient gutter, waiting for your precious saliva?
Next time, wait. Please. Those of us who follow you will appreciate it. As will our shoes.
No love,
Me
** **
I'm finally making my way through the premade curries I bought a while ago. Two very big thumbs up for the micro curries by Raja Foods. I love Indian food, but for 99 cents, why go to all the trouble of making it myself if I don't have to? One package makes two sides, and there's enough sauce that you can use it as a base for other things (i.e. more veggies, or some cooked chicken, or whatever).
Mmm.
** **
Work was brutal this week. We're going through a merger... which is not a merger at all. They're buying us, and all the platitudes about "taking the best from both organizations" and "learning from each other" were just that: platitudes. They could care less.
They are also an organization where overtime is worn as a badge of honor.
Been there, done that, and I'm not doing it again.
As we go down the stairs together, in a herd of people on their way to work, I understand that sometimes one gets the urge to spit. (Actually, I don't really understand it, but work with me here.) Sometimes, the spit must out.
But really-- does it need to come out on the stairs? When you're not the only one descending said stairs? The spit can't wait another thirty seconds until you're down at street level, where there's a convenient road, and thus a convenient gutter, waiting for your precious saliva?
Next time, wait. Please. Those of us who follow you will appreciate it. As will our shoes.
No love,
Me
** **
I'm finally making my way through the premade curries I bought a while ago. Two very big thumbs up for the micro curries by Raja Foods. I love Indian food, but for 99 cents, why go to all the trouble of making it myself if I don't have to? One package makes two sides, and there's enough sauce that you can use it as a base for other things (i.e. more veggies, or some cooked chicken, or whatever).
Mmm.
** **
Work was brutal this week. We're going through a merger... which is not a merger at all. They're buying us, and all the platitudes about "taking the best from both organizations" and "learning from each other" were just that: platitudes. They could care less.
They are also an organization where overtime is worn as a badge of honor.
Been there, done that, and I'm not doing it again.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Mmm, spicy
Got out of the house this afternoon and met friends in an area of the city that has a large Indian population (continent of, not Native American). It's a little like taking a trip to that area of the world without having to sit on a plane for hours-- women walk down the street in colorful saris and salwar kameez, video stores are plastered with posters of various Bollywood stars, and the grocery stores have more pre-packaged curry than they do Lean Cuisines.
We all bought food at one of the grocery stores-- I now have masoor dal, split mung beans, fresh ginger, whole mustard seeds, and four different packages of premade curries-- 99 cents each! A good deal, as each is two meals if you add in a bit of chicken or a salad. (Look at me, being all budgety and stuff.) I was seriously tempted by an absolutely glorious pair of earrings, but due to the "being all budgety" (and also knowing that I've got a deductible to meet from last Thursday's fun and games), I walked away. Entertainingly enough, they thought I was trying to bargain, and by the time I left the price was about $100 less than it had been originally. When I go back, now I know how flexible prices are. Or aren't.
After shopping, we ate lunch; it was probably the best Indian food I've ever had-- fresh and delicious and perfectly cooked. We got four or five different dishes and shared, and all of us brought enough food home for at least one more meal apiece. Yum.
It was a gorgeous sunny day, and a nice escape from what has been a grim couple of weeks. This is a terrific city, and I'm ashamed that it's taken me so long to get to this particular neighborhood. It certainly won't be so long before I go back.
We all bought food at one of the grocery stores-- I now have masoor dal, split mung beans, fresh ginger, whole mustard seeds, and four different packages of premade curries-- 99 cents each! A good deal, as each is two meals if you add in a bit of chicken or a salad. (Look at me, being all budgety and stuff.) I was seriously tempted by an absolutely glorious pair of earrings, but due to the "being all budgety" (and also knowing that I've got a deductible to meet from last Thursday's fun and games), I walked away. Entertainingly enough, they thought I was trying to bargain, and by the time I left the price was about $100 less than it had been originally. When I go back, now I know how flexible prices are. Or aren't.
After shopping, we ate lunch; it was probably the best Indian food I've ever had-- fresh and delicious and perfectly cooked. We got four or five different dishes and shared, and all of us brought enough food home for at least one more meal apiece. Yum.
It was a gorgeous sunny day, and a nice escape from what has been a grim couple of weeks. This is a terrific city, and I'm ashamed that it's taken me so long to get to this particular neighborhood. It certainly won't be so long before I go back.
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