Thursday, March 31, 2005

Randomness

Secret
SSHHH - I have a secret to tell you. I’m wearing a girdle today.

Well, not a traditional girdle, but SPANX, the wonder undies. Hee Hee. I got them last year to wear under a dress for a wedding and they are actually quite nice under dresses. Today, I’m wearing a wrap dress and I decided to put them on underneath to smooth things out.

Just thought I would share.

Butterflies
San Diego is being infested by insects. Butterflies. They are ALL OVER at the moment. A few weeks ago I noticed tons of caterpillars all over the place.. now there are butterflies. I’m literally sitting here and staring out my window at hundreds of butterflies flapping by. While they are pretty, it’s still almost creepy… because in the air they are still winged insects.

I also feel bad because I now have a collection of dead butterflies on the grill of our Xterra.

Groceries
We went to the grocery store last night to get a few things. Actually, we needed a lot of things. It was one of those times where we whittled down our stockpile to nothingness (don’t you love that?). So off we go. We filled up the cart.

Luckily we did not need the “killers”: Diapers, Razors, cleaning products or formula (YAY! NO MORE FORMULA EVER!). We did get 1 bottle of Chardonnay (mommy needs a drinkie) and one bottle of Shiraz and one bag of frozen chicken breasts. (hee hee.. breasts). Besides that it was the basics.. milk, eggs, yogurt, cheese, some meat, juice.. and so on and so forth..

We did not have any coupons but we did use our Vons Club Card. Our total? $181.50.

ONEHUNDREDANDEIGHTONEFUCKINGDOLLARS

That is $60 more than we normally spend. AND WE GOT NOTHING EXTRA. The absolute kick in the head? We got home, unloaded, and both the fridge and pantry still looks empty.

There are some days that I just want to cry.

The House Hunt
I think that we are putting the house hunt on hold for now. Why you ask?

“A report published Wednesday on the Wall Street Journal's guide, RealEstateJournal.com, shows the six major metro areas in California are all on the list of the Top 10 regions most likely to see prices fall. The San Diego area is fourth on the list with a 43.3 percent chance of experiencing a drop in housing values. The analysis notes that San Diego has the nation's least-affordable housing market in terms of annual income. With a per-capita income of less than $37,000, the average resident would need to spend 90 percent of his or her income to afford a 30-year mortgage on a median-priced home, which recently was $578,000. For the second straight month, the overall median price countywide slipped in February.”

Because we are going to hold out and buy for a greatly reduced rate when the overpriced, piece of shit housing market implodes. There MUST be a reason that we have procrastinated for so long. We are ready to catch a break somewhere. Please.

Oh Yea - and can you please tell me who the hell in San Diego can live on a household income of $37,000?! And where the fuck do you buy your groceries because you obviously are not spending $181.50?!

A Side Note
Just want to apologize for all the "adult language" used in today's post. It's been one of those days. And it's only 10:57 am.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Am I horrible because this made me laugh?

http://durrrrr.blogspot.com/

We did not procreate, we cloned

Lucas is a mini-Jason.

While there are many genetic traits from both of us that I hoped that he would get (and I a few that I hoped he wouldn't like Jason and I's amazing lack of understanding for anything mathematical), the one thing I REALLY hoped he would get, he got.

He got Jason's amazing skin coloring.

Jason and his sister both got their skin coloring from their mom. Bobbi always has a tan. It could be Christmas in Nebraska and Bobbi looks like she just got back from Hawaii. And Jay is the same way (bastard). 45 minutes in the sun in March and I look like a boiled crustacean waiting to be dipped in butter, while Jason has a tan line already. He doesn't use sunblock, and if after a long day at the beach he is a little red, by morning it will already have faded into a healthy glow.

As I was changing Lucas last night I noticed that after one day in the sun, and 15 different latherings of 60 SPF Water Babies, the kid has a tint to him now. While I'm thrilled that my dream of little bronze surfer babies is coming true, I'm sad that I will need to start spending $30 a pop on Mystic Tans to bare any resemblance to my child at all.


Beach Baby Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

I Lost On e-Bay - Bay-bee..ooooooh, ooh, ooh, oohh

So you would think that me, the bargain shopper extrondonaire that I am would have been ALL OVER ebay long ago. Not so. In fact I have never bought a thing on ebay. First off, I'm not even that into online shopping because I'm an instant gratification type of girl. If I want a shirt, I want to wear it tomorrow - not in 6 -8 business days. But last night I was lured into eBay.. lured in by the prospect of getting the $200 jeans that I've been LUSTING over for 3 months for $40 plus shipping and handling.

And they were almost mine. Almost..

With 45 minutes left, someone jumped in and out did me. I was no longer the top bidder. I increased it to $45, still out bid. I increased it to $50, then $55 and was STILL out bid. At that point I just gave up. Did I want to spend $60 on jeans that I have never tried on? It's one thing to spend $40.. but $60 is another story.

I just went back and checked. The fucking jeans went for $57.00.

Soooo close, so close I could feel the stylishly frayed denim underneath my finger tips..

Sunday, March 27, 2005

I do not heart bees

Yesterday I was stung by a bee. This was my first bee sting in about 10 years and I now remember why what I have always called an irrational fear of bees is not irrational at all - but very rational. Yes, I realize that sentence did not make a whole lot of sense, but I'm writing this entry in a benedryl induced haze. You see, I guess that I am allergic to bees. Not highly allergic where I need to carry around an injection from stopping me from going into anaphlactic shock, but allergic enough to be 100% miserable from the little fucker's toxin.

My arm where the little bastard got me is huge and red and itches like a sonofabitch. I've vomited 3 times and when I stand up, I must immediately sit down again because I'm dizzy. And thanks to the benedryl, I've napped more than Lucas today.

Great fun. So my question is what is up with my family and the weird ailments?


I know.. years of therapy lay ahead because we made him meet the easter bunny at such a tender young age Posted by Hello

Saturday, March 26, 2005

So your wife is pregnant - what would be your favorite to tell her?

Possibly on of the best quotes on impending fatherhood brought to you by the always appropriate Mr Brittany Spears:

"He calls Brit 'my lady-in-waiting,'" says the source. "Kevin knows he's not going to get a moment's peace from now until the baby comes. He says what he really enjoys about her pregnancy is chugging beers and telling Brit 'You can't have one!'"

Oh my. This "family" is a tradegy waiting to happen.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Bad Influence = Hot Asses

Something that you may already know about me - I'm obsessed with jeans. I LOVE jeans, an unfortunately, I love expensive jeans. I have this theory, if you are going to spend too much money on something, it should be jeans, purses and Juicy sweatpants. The have the best ROI.

A good Coach bag will last you years. I live in my Juicy Sweats - I tried the knock offs, and they fell apart and looked like shit after a month. I'm still wearing the same Juicys that I got 3 years ago. For me staples that always look good are worth the money. And there is no amount of money that is worth the feeling that you get when you feel fat and gross and you put on that HOT pair of jeans that fit you just right and you look in the mirror and think "Damn, I look SMOKIN'."

So I sing the praises of just biting the bullet and getting a damn good pair of jeans that you will live in and love. I guess I'm corrupting my friends though, because I have had 3 different friends tell me recently that its my fault they spent $145+ on jeans. (blush)

The first was Virginia, who has expensive taste on her own. But a few weeks ago I get a frantic IM from her asking which jeans are better, the Citizens of Humanitys or AG's. I told her that I love and live in my AGs, but CoH are hot also. When she was out a few weeks ago, she modeled her stylie new denims (she went with the CoH's) and I swear they made her look 5 lbs slimmer and 3 inches taller.

Then came Carin. We've had this ongoing battle for years because she swore that she would never spend $100+ on jeans, but that she would have no problem buying a $100 bottle of good wine. No, no, no I say! It's 2 buck Chuck from Trader Joes and $$$ jeans for me! Well, today she called and told me that she did it, she bought some Citizen of Humanity jeans.

sniff sniff.. I'm so proud..my little babys all growns up...

My good friend Marina is visiting this weekend from San Fran. We had a lovely afternoon of lunch and shopping and baby talk (she's 6 mos preggers) and I took her to my favorite maternity/baby store and made her try on the maternity jeans that I had that I loved more than anything. The Gweyneths by Childish. She tried them on and guess what? LOVED 'EM! Had to have them. As we were walking out of the store she was cursing me under her breath for making her try them on.

But the moral of the story? Because of my good taste and bad influence, there are 3 asses out there that will look even hotter than usual tonight!

I'm expecting my hand written thank you's from the significant others to arrive any day now.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

God Bless Sweden

Ahhh.. the land of cheap put-it-together-yourself furniture, the land of meatballs and the land of hot young professionals that come to San Diego to intern at the Swedish American Chamber of Commerce.

We are in the process of interviewing for an office admin/manager. Since the last time my boss made the hiring decision the girl turned out to be a hairy armed FREAK who walked out on us one day leaving her key and note that we made her physically ill, Marsi and I decided to take control of this hiring. So of course we are looking for recommendations from people we know. One of them came from or favorite “ready to assist!” Swedes, so we brought him in today for an interview. When I talked to him yesterday on the phone I asked him if it was a good time to talk briefly and he actually replied “Yes, yes. Very Good! I’m out of office going to Ikea to eat Swedish pastries! It’s a tradition to eat pastries in March!”

Fantastic – I no longer feel bad about the 2 Easter cookies that shoved down my throat!

So onto the interview. Let’s just say that only a Euro could wear jeans to an interview and not only still look good, but have the interviewers not care. Marsi and I were tripping over our tongues at this guy.. he was the epitome of the hot “euro trash” guy. He had long greasy hair in the color blonde that I pay good money for and the sexiest little accent and every time he said “And how you say…” Marsi and I giggled like school girls.

He was so cute and left us so flustered that Marsi actually broke out in a few hives over the incident.

God, how lame are we?!

**Please note – I feel a little bad about this post. It’s the 2nd this week where I have gushed over a male who is not my husband. Jason – you are the love of my life and I would also get flushed and giggly if you pranced around in tight euro jeans. ;-)

Thursday Morning Giggle


Message from Iraq Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Lend me some sugar - I am your neighbor!

**swooning**

It's being reported (by those in the "know") that the luscious Brad Pitt has bought a house in Del Mar "to get some fresh air". Deep Breath. Brad Pitt. In MY neighborhood. That means I can run into him at Starbucks or (GOD FORBID) while buying tampons at Longs Drugs.

I Love Brad. LOVE. My love for Brad runs so deep that I will break my own promise to my blog and accentuate my love by telling you that I L.O.V.E. him.


I wouldn't throw him out of bed for eating crackers Posted by Hello

In a related story...

A few weeks ago Jason asked me who my celebrity free fuck would be. You know the ONE celebrity that you have permission to sleep with if given the opportunity. Jason's is Angelina Jolie and (like a black fly in your chardonnay), mine is Brad. Wonder if the deal is still on now that they are both slightly more possible?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. ROFLOL!!
Wait. I'm sorry. I was lost in my fantasy land that I'm not a (ALMOST) 30-year old mother of toddler who is usually seen with reminants of food smeared on her sleeves that is carrying around 10 extra lbs and who's "sexy outfit" is her sweatpants (JUICY sweats - but still).

Yea. Deal is still on.

How To Get My Bid'ness

Today was one of those wonderful days where a sales guy takes you out to lunch. Love that. Especially loved it today since Mr. Sales Man was from a nice hotel that is known for its 4-star restaurant. Yee Haw.

So office mate Marsi and I dined with Mr. Sales Man – I had split pea and fennel soup and a delicious andouille sausage flatbread – and then took a tour of the facilities. You know the drill - pretty much a lot of “oh yes, this would be perfect” and “what beautiful chandeliers” blah blah blah.

So as we were leaving, we told Mr. Sales Man that he should swing by this event that we are having next week and Mr. Sales Man goes “Great! I’ll come by and crash your party.”

Then HE DID THE ROBOT AS HE WALKED AWAY.

Yes, my friends - He busted out with the classic 80's style robot. I am SO booking our next event with him just for that reason.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Happy Bodily Function Day!

What? You didn’t know it was bodily function day? Well, I must admit, I didn’t see it on my calendar either – but that’s the only reason I can think up for the MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF EXCRIEMENT AND BILE THAT I HAVE CLEANED TODAY.

And no, it’s not only Lucas celebrating this new Hallmark holiday. Apparently Mick’s doggie calendar had this fun new holiday noted on it also!

While babies and dogs want to keep this special day a “surprise” for Mommies everywhere, I thought that I would give you all the heads-up, just so that you are not taken aback from the shock of this fun fun day as I was! Yea, I’m good like that…

So, Yes! Happy BF Day everyone – hope you get to do something new and exciting today like cleaning poop out of the corners of the highchair and bleaching your bathtub because you didn’t know what else to do with the poop covered kid, so you just stuck him in the bathtub to at least control where the feces would end up.

Yes, yes… Happy Day! Is 11:20 am too early to hit the tequila in celebration?

Sunday, March 20, 2005


First Day of Spring! Posted by Hello

Manties for Wiggers

Because we are OLD and LAME, we watch Saturday Night Live on Sunday mornings. Now, if TiVo or DVRs would have been around when I was in college, we probably would have watched SNL on Sundays late morning or afternoon, but that is just because we were out too late drinking the night before.

Recently SNL has been taking a lot of slack that isn't "good anymore" - but I beg to differ.. that show can be damn funny at times. Like the skit on last night's show where Ashton Kutcher was playing Mr. Brittany Spears Federline modeling "Federline" underwear with the tagline Manties for Wiggers... which lead Jason and I to wonder when the term "wigger" was going to become a socially acceptable term...

Friday, March 18, 2005

One Damn Smart One Year Old

Lucas has developed this interesting new trait. It's the "I know that I'm doing something that you really don't want me to do but look at how cute i am and you wont really get mad at me" smile. It's the smile that he gets when he is throwing his mac and cheese over the side of his high chair at Mick. It's the smile he gives when Daddy's supposed to be watching him so Mommy can pee in peace but Daddy is doing something else so he walks over the bathroom door and pushes it open. This smile says independence. It says that he is knows what he is doing and that he has given serious thought to accomplishing it. The smile also shows the pride that he has in himself for completing the task that he has set out to do.

This smile melts my heart. And even though I'm putting the tupperwhere back in the drawer for the 20th time today, he knows that I'm not really upset at him.

Damn, he is one SMART one-year old.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

The banging.. please stop the banging..

I want to write a post, I really do.. but the banging in my head... I want to tell yous alls about Lucas' middle of the night cry-a-thon that lasted over and hour for no apparent reason, but the clanging is too loud and I'm having problems forming sentences. I would love to gossip about the work place drama and using Kelly and Ian's nanny for a few hours because our nanny is out of town at a midwifery convention and coming home to find the poor girl trying to console and clean up a hysterical Lucas who is COVERED IN POOP, but the clashing is preventing me from thinking straight. I would tell you about Lucas breaking his Daddy's Xbox last night and say THANK GOD it happened while Jason was supposed to be watching him, but with every BASH I am now seeing spots in front of my eyes. So instead of telling you all of these things I will just say
WHY THE HELL CAN'T LUCAS PLAY WITH THE HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS OF TOYS HE HAS INSTEAD OF THE FLIPPING POTS AND PANS?!?!


Irish Eyes a Smiling Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

A Public Service Announcement

Do yourself a favor and don't bother buying anything that is linen with a drawstring. It will stretch out, and it will fall down and expose your the top of your thong underwear and you will be walking around looking like you think you are Paris Hilton. I'm just doing you a favor. RESIST the cute peasant style Old Navy skirt (yes, I know it's only $30). It will stretch and fall down and you will walk around all day holding your skirt up and swearing.

Hear me on this one people. I'm only trying to do you a favor.

A Very Cruel Joke

I told you that my office overlooked Nordstrom. It’s painful to sit here and look at it. And think about all the fun new spring clothes they must have inside. It’s especially hard today for a few different reasons. 1) I’m all alone at work. Yes, all alone in the scary office. Everyone else (you know, the other 3, haha) are out in New Orleans for a trade show. 2) Spring is here and it’s BEAUIFUL out today.

I know what you are thinking – San Diego is always beautiful. While we don’t get snow, it’s not always beautiful.. but when it is, it’s DAMN beautiful. My favorite seasons in San Diego are Spring and Fall. Contrary to popular belief, we do have seasons – and being an almost native So. Cali girl, I can feel the slight difference in the air when the seasons change. This morning, the usual marine layer was gone. Birds were twerping at 6 AM and the sun was already streaming through the slats of the plantation shutters on our windows. This is the type of day that makes San Diegans weep and momentarily not feel like huge asses for paying obscene amounts of money for a house.

Then fucking Nordstrom sends me an email “Hot New Spring Tunics” DAMN THEM.

DAMN THEM DAMN THEM DAMN THEM!

How did they KNOW that I was thinking that I wish I had the new terry Juicy tunic that I saw that girl wearing yesterday with cute new flip flops? Where they with me at Trader Joe’s when I stopped in the aisle and pretended to look at organic apple juice but was really checking out how cute the eyelety part looked when I first dismissed it as ugly?

Damn their direct marketing department is GOOD.


I swear this picture doesn't do it justice.. Posted by Hello

Monday, March 14, 2005

HHMMM....I do like sweaters..

You Are Ed Wood From "Ed Wood."

You definitely have your name in history, although probably not for the reason you believe. Yet you are very accepting, non-judgemental, and optimistic almost to a fault. You also have a
thing for angora sweaters. How could anyone not like you?

Bring out the Gimp

Ohh.. what a Saturday night!

Saturday night Jason, Lucas and I went out to dinner at a yummy new Mexican restaurant with Lucas’ Godmommies Carin and Hilary (yes, Lucas is special – he has 2 Godmommies) and Greg, Hilary’s brother. The food was delicious (I had Puerto Nuevo style lobster – yum!) and Lucas was on his best behavior… well, for most of the meal. I gotta give it to the kid, it was the end of the meal, and it was almost 8 (his bedtime) so we were totally pushing it. So right before dessert we had a mini-meltdown. And after a few nasty glances from single barren bitches across the restaurant, Carin took Lucas outside to calm him down. Which I guess worked until they looked through the window and she pointed to us sitting inside, which in turn, caused Lucas to realize that he was not inside with us. From the inside of the noisy restaurant all we saw was Lucas’ little face looking through the window and turning bright red with what could only be the beginning of a monstrous sob.

I walked out to help Carin and to play the game of distraction, we walked into the store next to the restaurant -The Rainbow Road. Now at first glance you think it’s just a fun gay store selling tight black t-shirts and rainbow stickers, so we walk in to browse the funny cards and t-shirts. Then we turn around and are face-to-face with a cabinet full of cock rings. Big, small, green and yellow – a wall covered in various instruments of (I’m assuming) pleasure. I instantly felt horrendously guilty for exposing my baby’s virgin eyes to this, even though he probably thought that they were some kind of teething ring. Yes, yes … Lucas’ first encounter with cock rings…

Do they have a line for this milestone in the baby books?

So after the delicious dessert of pretty much frosted bread with custard (YUM) we head back to CC and Hil’s house to put the little man down in the pack n’ play and have a night cap and much needed adult time. As we pull down their street, we see that their neighbors at the dead end of the street have their American flag and the Rainbow Flag out and lit up at the end of their driveway. Carin and Hilary muttered something about the neighbors have “another party” which launched us into wondering about the house down the driveway, in the canyon. Was it a nice house? Was it big? C and H looked at each other and said that they didn’t know because they would not really want to go down there… That’s when the night got interesting.

So their neighbors are what are called “Leather Queens” (a sub-class of the gay community that I never really knew about before Saturday). A Leather Queen is the stereotypical, YMCA, gay man – Leather vest, chaps and the neatly groomed mustache called a “tickler.” Well, these particular leather queens tend to have a lot of parties.. a lot of parties that involve a lot of men… men wearing leather and carrying duffle bags. Yup…carrying duffle bags.

Now before Lucas, when I went to a party I wanted to carry as little as possible with me. Being men, they don’t even need to worry about a place to stash their lipstick and powder. So why the hell do they need DUFFLE BAGS?!

Are you following me here people? Gay men, leather and equipment. There was a good old fashion S&M orgy going on 2 doors down!!

Now, maybe I’m naïve. But I really couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on down there. Do they have rooms with different things going on? Do you wear a name tag? Do you stop by the kitchen for blow and a beer – or just jump right in? Do you have an “emergency word” in case you get into something that makes you uncomfortable? So many questions!

So, of course, we spent the rest of the night sitting in C and H’s living room watching the “guests” arrive. The pinnacle of the voyeurism came when a minivan pulled up and dropped of 3 people who had to, ahem, unload the back of van (pun not really intended – but it worked) of bags that took 2-3 of them to move.

After that, all I could think of was that scene from Pulp Fiction…

YIKES.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Old Friends, New Friends, Friends, Friends, Friends!

This has been a very social few days for me. Not that it’s out of the ordinary for me to be social, but in the busy world of work and mommyhood a lot of socializing has been somewhat limited. But not this week. This week I was en fuego!

Thursday night I actually went out. To a Bar. Without baby or husband. I wore my sexy “booby” shirt and brought my little bag that only holds lipstick, wallet, cell phone and camera. No diapers, sippy cups or cheerios! And I went out with the girls. My good friend Virginia from Madison was in town for work and along with Kelly and Carin and Hillary we stepped out for a night on the town. Well, not really a night on the town.. that’s a bit of an exaggeration.. but we did go to a uber hip bar that doesn’t have a name over the door, that had blue shag carpeting on the walls (yes, on the walls) and we drank these red concoctions called “tears of the prophet.” Yes, for 2 hours on a THURSDAY night Kelly, Virginia and I we’re not “mommy” but cool urbanites out for a drink. It was so “SITC” – and yes, I was the Carrie. Esp. now that I’m sitting her typing it all up on my laptop.. I feel like I should come up with some intriguing question while the camera zooms in over my shoulder…

Both Jason and Kelly’s husband (for my SITC tribute I will just call him “The Canadian”) told us to spend the night or call a cab if we drank too much. Not to disappoint, but I guess they thought that we were going to get much crazier than we actually did. We talked about babies some, but topics ranged from Brazilian bikini waxes on men, hot jeans of the moment, my 30th birthday party all the way to people that don’t wash their hands after using the bathroom. It was wonderful to have the “girls” back together. While I don’t want to go back to life pre-Lucas, it’s nice to have glimpses back into that time.

Friday was new friend time and it was all about the munchkins. As you can tell by my blog, I have no problem sharing the trials and tribulations of my life with anybody. I have no need for traditional talk therapy because I tell everyone everything already. So when I first got pregnant Virginia turned me onto the “expecting club” message boards on iVillage, and I quickly became a regular contributor on the March 2004 Expecting Club board. Every pound, pain and anxiety was shared with the women on this board that were going through all the same things that I was at about the same time. Questions about strollers, carseats and parenting styles where debated on a regular basis. Since a monkey could have done the job that I had when I was preggers, I had time on my hands to worry and contemplate every moment of my pregnancy and I actually became quite obsessive with the board. But amidst the anonymity of screen names, real friendships were actually forged. Because just as they read my stories, I read theirs and we all got to know each other “personally” via cyberspace.

I sometimes laugh because the person that instant message with most is Tiff from Houston. Tiff and I had the same due date and then both delivered via c-section on March 2nd 2004. Out of anyone in the world, Lucas and Tiff’s baby Nate, are probably exactly the same age – from conception to birth. How Fucking Crazy Is That?! So Tiff and I have this bond. We IM each other on a regular basis and I SWARE I “talk” to her more than I talk to the majority of my friends.. and we’ve never met in person.

So last Friday a “meet-up” was arranged at the zoo for a few Southern Cali moms and their “march munchkins.” Myself along with Nicol, Ruby, Maria and Didi and our babies all met each other for the first time in front of the flamingos. These women are technically strangers to me, but since I know so much about them (and they know a lot about me!) we really weren’t. There really wasn’t any awkward “getting to know you moments” because we know each other. They know that I was on the South Beach diet and when I stopped breastfeeding Lucas. While it was the first time we met, this also felt like I was getting together with old friends that I have known forever.

So maybe I will end this post with an intriguing question as the camera zooms in..
These days with the internet, what defines a real friend? Some one that you can see on a regular basis, or someone that you know everything about but have never met? For me, it’s both…


GNO Posted by Hello


March Mommies Posted by Hello

Thursday, March 10, 2005

The Creepy Hallway


see the alien foot?? right THERE? Posted by Hello

The Willies and the Madness

My work moved offices a few weeks back. While the location is fantastic (I think I’ve mentioned the bridge that goes from the front door of our building directly to Nordstrom, haven’t I?), the office leaves something to be desired. We are pretty much squatters in an abandoned office at the moment. You laugh – but really, that’s what we are. We are a non-profit so we get housed in whatever sponsor has office space for us. The last company that we lived with moved to a smaller space and didn’t have room for us, so off we went in search for new digs. Unfortunately, the apparently lush and fabulous new digs that we are going to live in eventually are not going to be available until May or June, which left us homeless for a few months. Another sponsor then offered us offices in their old office spaces that were just sitting there empty. So here we are. In one little corner of a crappy, mid-nineties “hip office” style (Green walls and pseudo art deco floors) suite of offices on the 2nd floor of a building with a great locale.

Because all these offices used to belong to one company, it’s not like we are a contained area. We have our little area, but then there is this long hallway of unused offices that leads to large areas of darkened abandoned cubicles. Needless to say, it’s a little freaky.

So today Marsi my office mate confided to me that she had this strange thought when passing the dark hallway of what if, out of the corner of your eye, you *think* you see something skitter by. Not like a mouse.. but like a person.

Like in “SIGNS” where they are out in the cornfield and in the strobe of the flashlight they see just the ankle of an alien as it disappears in the stalks.

**SHIVERS**

Now let me just tell you, Aliens FREAK THE SHIT OUT OF ME. I’ve lived with a ghost, so they don’t bother me (even though Jason’s hopes and dreams of me becoming a true “camper” were dashed after I saw “The Blair Witch Project”). I would LOVE to meet a Vampire because they all seem so cool and they have these big parties with other vampires in abandoned meat packing facilities and wear tight leather outfits and dance to techno music. But ALIENS. EEEEEEKKKK! They SCARE ME. TO DEATH.

I think my irrational fear of aliens stems back from when I was about 7 or 8. I was still young and impressionable but I was old enough that my parents were not strictly monitoring my television watching, and I came across the movie Communion with Christopher Walken on HBO. It must have been the first time that I ever pondered the thought of aliens and their existence and definitely the first time that I ever heard that they abduct people and do strange things with PROBES to defenseless humans who minutes before were sleeping soundly in their beds.

I remember sitting frozen on the couch, clutching something – too mortally freaked out to turn the channel or say something until my Dad noticed what I was watching and turned off the television. Too late. I was already scarred for life. To this day the mere mention of aliens or Christopher Walken sends me into a blood pressure inducing panic.

I know… everyone loves Christopher Walken. He’s “The Continental” and he dances funny in the Fat Boy Slim video. But no – I will never see him as anything but the scary man who was abducted by aliens.

So I was sharing my madness with Marsi (giving myself SUCH the willies just THINKING about aliens and CW) and we had another thought. What if, at that very moment, Christopher Walken stuck his head around the door of our office and said “Hello, Ladies.”

AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

That shit could really happen!

Hey, if my life was a bad network sitcom it would.


AGH! Look at the alien eyes!! Posted by Hello


you can not tell me this is isn't the scariest man alive Posted by Hello

Soft Cheworthy

I’ve officially not been pregnant for over a year now. And in that one year they have made SO many things that would have my time as a human incubator so much more happy. These things include those fun, squishy pillows from Sharper Image, maternity Juicy sweat pants and Rolaids Soft Chews.

OMG. I would have LOVED the Rolaids Soft Chews when I was Preggers. L-O-V-E-D. I had one last night for the first time – they look and taste like Bubble Yum. They are like candy and they make the burning in your throat go away. They are the best invention ever… they just came out a year too late. Oh well – good to know for next time.

Maybe I should start stocking up on them now just in case they go away before I'm pregnant again. Then I can horde them and only use them when my indigestion is bad enough. Mexican food - tumsworthy. Digornio Sausage Pizza - Soft Cheworthy.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

I see Lucas in the Magic Mirror!

And all over the rest of the house!!

Our house is no longer our own. We no longer get to decide what looks good where, these days is all about what can get moved higher (so that Lucas can’t get to it) and where can we put all these FREAKIN TOYS?! People laugh at me when I tell them that Lucas got a toy bin organizer from Target for his birthday… but no, really. He did. We needed something to house the 50,000 peek-a-blocks in.

So now Lucas has a new game. It’s called the let’s-pull-all-the-plastic-bins-out-of-the-shelf-and-dump-all-my-toys-on-the-floor game. Ya’ know what? It’s much quieter than the pulling-all-the-pots-and-pans-out-and-clanking-them game. And it makes him so happy.. and as you can tell by the current state of our living room making Lucas happy is all that it’s about.


Romper Room Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Workplace "PMS"

You know how when women live or work closely together they often are on the same “cycles”? Well, that’s us around my work – but not the same menstrual cycles, the same “maintenance cycle.”

Every couple of weeks there are new manis and pedis and every few months there is a 2 week span where we all come in with nicely colored and cut hair. It’s almost amusing, especially when the hair is different or more dramatic than usual. We also get “PMS” (pre maintenance syndrome) where all we could talk about was new clothes, new shoes and how much we hate our hair. That was a few weeks ago – now we are all “maintenancing” right now (lol – we are “on the foil” or “are having a visit from aunt nordstom”).. You can tell this because of all the exposed pink toenails, bright spring colored shirts and new highlights.

Ahhhh! Spring is in the air!

Now I’m a blonde. A natural-but-highlighted California girl. My hair has always been blonde and long. Yes, there have been a few above the shoulder chops in my days, but for the most part, I’ve always had long blonde hair. Every fall I go on this stint where I talk about dying my hair red. I manically look through magazines for pictures of how I want my hair to be, I contemplate going strawberry blonde with gold highlights or gold with strawberry highlights. And every year I chicken out and just get a few more low lights. And the circle of hair style life moves along.

So a few weeks ago my office mate Marsi comes in with black lowlights in her red hair. And it looked SO cute! Now, Marsi is a red head, so her black low lights under the red were just this cool addition. Anyway, she got me thinking about my boring straight long blonde hair.. While I’m not ready to cut it off, I was thinking about something just a little different…Inspired by Nancy O’Dell from Access Hollywood, I did it. I finally did something different. I did chunky highlights with chunky lowlights. Now I know that it’s not anything wild or crazy – but it’s different for me. Jason seems to like it and my co-workers were proud that I did something out of the ordinary.

And me? Well, I think that I’m in denial about turning 30 in a few weeks and needed to spice things up a bit. But between you and me, I think that I’m already wanting it to fade a little…(blush).

Sigh. So boring.

Monday, March 07, 2005

If you are happy and you know it, shriek at mom

Today Lucas and I went to a baby tumbles class at this children’s gym place by our house. I’ve been meaning to do more class type things with Lucas, so off we went even though it was at the ungodly hour of 9 am. Yes, yes, I know that 9 am is not ungodly, but trying to get a one year old out of the house by 9 when he woke up at 8:15, isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

The first thing I notice about this class are the other moms. They are all fully dressed, hair, make-up and accessorized at NINE AM ON MONDAY. Now, if I was going to work, I to would be fully done up. But we were going to take our 12 – 18 month olds to a gym class – I assumed that I would be “over dressed” in my Juicy suit. Guess I didn’t get the mommy memo that full “get-up” is required for all children’s activities.

The second thing I noticed – Lucas is the only child with the inability to sit in the circle on his mom’s lap and clap his hands during song time. In fact, Lucas would rather shriek at the top of his lungs and try to brake free from my grip rather than sing and dance. You would think that I was about to throw him into a roaring fire, not just do his baby stretches by the way he was carrying on. You know it’s bad when the smiley teacher looks over at you and says “It’s okay, it can be a little much on their first time!”

Later today I was talking to my friend Shelagh in Texas about my experience at the class and she was saying how these “classes” that are supposed to be so great for your kids, but they are actually just supply another added stress for Mom. While we are supposed to be stimulating our children with bright colors and textures, we are really just over analyzing the other mothers in the class and freaking out about things our babies are not doing yet.

And we pay money for the privilege of doing this. But, I will admit - the almost 3 hour nap that took place this afternoon after this morning's fun was well worth it. :-)

Paranoia

So last week I posted those pics of me that Jason took of me at about 38 weeks pregnant. And both Jason and Mom both stated that they didn’t think it was a good idea that I post those “type” of pictures – and what if I ended up on some preggo woman fetish site. I mean please – If I found out that those pics ended up on a fetish site, I would be FLATTERED!

But this got me to thinking about how I’m not very paranoid – I’m anxiety ridden, but not paranoid – does that make sense? I prefer to lay awake at night and concentrate on the one email that I didn’t send out that day at work, or that Lucas is never going to graduate high school because I let him watch 2 episodes of BooBah that morning while I took a shower and got dressed.

But I don’t have the paranoia of most ‘normal’ people. I don’t have a fear of flying because in my opinion I have no control over if I’m going to be on a plane that crashes. And if I do die in a plane crash, well then my family will get a nice big settlement from the airline! I’m also not paranoid about someone kidnapping Lucas… and I’m not sure why. I mean, I wouldn’t want it to happen and I do take measures to make sure that it won’t happen, but I’m not going to not post pictures of him on my blog for fear that some crazed person is going to come to San Diego, hunt us down and steal him.

But then, when I begin to analyze how rationale I’m being, I feel like I should be more irrational about something like this. Danielle Van Damme was abducted out of her room here in San Diego, so it’s not like I think we live in this happy little city where crime doesn’t touch us. So why isn’t this something that I worry about?!

So now, with all these thoughts running through my head, I’m anxiety ridden about the fact that I’m not more paranoid.

Great.

Friday, March 04, 2005

I’m Handing Out The BEATDOWNS

So just days after posting about how much people’s interpretation of my schedule bother’s me, my boss makes the first comment. We were leaving a late afternoon meeting yesterday and she says to one of the other people in the meeting “Beth gets a four day weekend every weekend!”.

Now, I don’t normally mention work. At least not in any way that I can get “dooced” for (not sure what it is to be “dooced”? www.urbandictionary.com) but I just had to mention her comment. The timing was right, she hit a nerve. At least my co-worker made the comment “Hey, staying home with a one year old isn’t a vacation! I was exhausted from just watching all the kids at the birthday party last weekend!”

Then this morning I was IMing with my friend Ann in Sudan , who reads my blog on a regular basis. From Sudan. I have good friends in AMERICA that don’t read my blog on a regular basis – yet she reads it from the sweltering heat of the African Jungle/Bush. Anyway – she makes a comment about my cushy life (just to get my goat) and I typed back BEATDOWN. But as quickly as I did I realized that SHE IS THE ONLY PERSON I KNOW that can say I have a cushy anything. And why? Because she’s in SUDAN promoting AIDS Awareness. She has no air and it’s ungodly hot. She gets slower than dial-up internet through a satellite linked “cyber café” that doesn’t really have a café. She’s sweating from “places on her body that she didn’t know could sweat” and she is there BY CHOICE. So, Ann – my fan from Sudan (heehee) – you get no beatdown, and yes, in comparison to you, my life in San Diego (even with the hellish rain and a one year old) is cushy.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

WTF?!

So I know that I've gone and on about my favorite BLACK PANTS. So yesterday I went to the mall (which is now, since my office moved, conveniently located about 70 ft across a bridge from the front door of my office. Can you say DANGEROUS?) and was THRILLED to see that Express had the "editor pants" in cropped design for spring/summer. THRILLED. They had them in 10 different colors and textures.

I had an instant vision of me in the cute pink ones with the wedgie sandals from 9 West that I'm now lusting over and crisp white shirt... or the demin ones with a black t-shirt and flip flops..

I was bursting at the seams with excitement... until I tried them on.

NOOOOO!!! NOOOOO! WHY?! WHY?!

WHY DID THEY HAVE TO GO AND CHANGE THE POCKETS?!

DAMN the Express designers! DAMN THEM! The editor pant has the perfect pocket! Just a little horizontal slit pocket - flattering and non-buldging. But they wanted to be "fun" and "springy" and put a large vertical pocket down the hip that really only looks cute on 6 ft tall 100 lb fashion models!! These are the types of pockets that even make the 20 year old sales girls look like they just birthed twins! SIGH.

I wanted to cry. It made me so bitter.. why take a perfectly wonderful pant and ruin it's design?
ANSWER ME EXPRESS DESIGNERS! ANSWER ME!!!

I think I'm going to write a letter and complain. I really hope that when my boy Jay from Project Runway goes and does his mentorship with Banana Republic he makes sure to tell them these things..

Stupid people. Do you ever feel like you really need to just run the world because it seems that NO ONE ELSE really knows what they are doing?

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Happy FIRST Birthday to my Franch Fry Guy

Lucas Kai my french fry guy...we've come so far this year.

I really can't put into words what this year has been like for us. To say that it’s been amazing or the best year of my life or anything along those lines really doesn't cut it. To try to go into details about how the experience of motherhood has changed my life seems in some strange way to undermine the whole thing.

I have had feelings this year that I never knew existed. I have felt a love stronger than I ever knew was possible (with Lucas and with Jason), I have been more scared than I have ever been before. I have laughed at things that I never knew were funny before year and I have experienced so many moments that have touched me deep in a place that I never knew could be touched.

So I thought that instead of trying to describe my emotional state today, I would just talk about Lucas, and what he is all about on his 365th day of life.

Lucas loves balls. Especially ones that bounce. His 2 favorite are a red bouncy ball that lights up and flashes when it hits a hard surface and his Kobe Bryant basketball which I swear he can dribble.

Lucas eats an entire banana almost every day, and he eats it in about 5 minutes flat.

Lucas currently is the proud owner of 5 teeth - his top 2 teeth and bottom 3.

While he still is a bit "follically challenged", but he has tripled his hair count since October and “baby mohawk” seems to be fading.

Every night we read Lucas 2 stories, one during his bottle, then “The going to bed book” right before we put him in his crib. Lucas loves the “going to bed book” and smiles and giggles at the same parts each night.

Lucas sleeps with 3 different blankets. He clutches his “ducky” blanket in one arm and his “silky” in the other arm and gets covered up with “fuzzy”. By morning, he usually is wrapped up in all 3 of them in some strange baby yoga position.

Lucas likes lima beans. For dinner we will often steam up this mix of frozen veggies, and he picks out all the lima beans and eats them before any of the other veggies.

He sticks his belly out when he walks.. it’s just adorable.

He loves getting kissed by Mick. When Mick and Lucas start playing, Lucas shrieks and giggles in pure delight. It’s the best sound in the world.

Everything is “BA.” Lucas can have an entire conversation with you or himself using just this sound. The only exception is when he sees balloons.. then he says something which really sounds like “oooon”.

Lucas loves the BoohBahs, but doesn’t care much for the live action part of the show with Mr. Man and Grandpapa.

Of course, there is so much more I can say about him.. but those are what comes to mind at this point. We are going to Red Robin tonight for his birthday dinner. He’ll probably get chicken strips and have a French fry or 2 and get some ice cream and balloons and not really understand why people are singing to him.

To Lucas - Happy Birthday My Little Munchkin Man, Mommy loves you so.

To Jason - Hapy One Year of Parenthood!! :-) We've survived and managed to do a pretty good job!!!


O.N.E. Posted by Hello


Happy First Birthday Little Man ... Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

2 Random Thoughts and 1 Rant

Getting an early start at being a Perv..
The other day I took Lucas to mall (so what’s new, he will know the name of mommy’s favorite stores before he can recite his ABC’s at this rate) and being the BOY that he is, he pitched a fit while mommy was trying on pants at Express. Trying desperately to figure out why the pants that looked so great on me just 3 days ago, that I have spent way to many minutes of my life that I will never get back obsessing over, I needed just a little more time, so I unleashed the beast from the restraints of his stroller. Of course (should have seen this one coming) as I was standing in the middle of the dressing room in just my underwear, he escaped. Ducked under the door and off he went. I threw some pants on and dashed out the dressing room to find him down on his stomach, with his butt in the air looking under the door of the dressing room across the hall.

Yes, we should have named him Tom. That’s Peeping Tom to you.

Hoping for one of those strange recessive genes
Lucas is obsessed with balls. LOVES balls. And thankfully not the ones attached to his body. Auntie Heather brought a half-sized Kobe Byrant basketball out all the way from Omaha for Lucas at Christmas time and this is THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. He chases it around the house. And now that he is walking, he’s started to walk over to ball, pick it up and bounce it around the room. He’s almost dribbling it. Watching him, you can’t help but think that the boy has skills already and it makes you wonder if we have birthed a future white boy NBA All Star. Alas, his genes may be against him here. The Avant and Pesacov men are not short, but they are not hoop playing size either.

If he turns out taller than the average bear then we will have a serious argument that you are born into your destiny.

My “cushy” schedule
I will start this rant by saying that Yes, I am incredibly lucky to be able to have the work schedule that I have. Currently, I’m in the office Tuesday – Thursday, and check email and do about 2 hours of work from home on Mondays and Fridays. To me, it’s a great combination of “working Beth” and “mommy Beth.” I can deal with a lot more BS at work since I’m only there 3 days a week and then have 4 days to recover before heading back into it and I’m not “bored” or frustrated just being at home all the time with no one to talk to but a one year old. So, that being said – THE NEXT PERSON THAT TELLS ME I HAVE A “CUSHY” SCHEDULE WILL GET A BEATDOWN.

The next person who comes home from work on Monday or Friday and makes a comment about the bed not being made will ALSO get a beatdown. The next co-worker or family member or friend who makes ANY COMMENTS about how nice it must be to “only work 3 days a week” will also get a BEATDOWN.

And after the this beatdown, I will let them come over to my house on a rainy day and try to unload the dishwasher, do a load of laundry and take a shower while feeding bathing and making sure the child naps.

Or better yet – they can take the child to the Kawasaki Disease clinic in Children’s Hospital, pass the neonatal unit and the pediatric oncology ward, wait 20 minutes in the waiting room of pediatric CARDIOLOGY (a department in the hospital that just shouldn’t exist for people that are under 40 that have no clue what stress is, have never smoked or ever even eaten a cheeseburger before), and then HOLD THEIR SCREAMING CHILD DOWN as someone sticks needles in your precious baby’s arms and sucks out what seems like it should be ½ of their total blood volume. And do this all while “holding it together” and not crying once.

After you have done that JUST ONCE, talk to me again about how nice it must be to have 4 day weekends insinuating that I actually have some kind of relaxing break in between hellish work weeks.