Adieu, NaBloPoMo!

30 days, 30 blog posts, 30 moments (minimum) savored. It's a little weird how November seems to have been declared the writing month on teh internets, but I like it. I'm all for writing, in any form, as frequently as possible. Which I'll continue to do no matter what the month. It's been fun. For me. I hope it was fun for you too.


Full-fledged happiness in three easy steps!

Elizabeth wrote about an article about happiness, and I like the idea of thinking about three good things that happened today and why they happened. So, without further adieu (sic...homage to Michael Donahoe at work):

  1. Alex squealed in delight for the first time. This happened because he is a baby, and his developmental milestones include laughing and squealing, and witnessing these milestones just makes me massively happy.
  2. My mom and I bought matching Puma tracksuits. This happened because we were both sucked in by the irresistibly cute ensemble. I'm sure we will look incredibly darling, or incredibly dorky, or both, together, and thinking about that makes me happy!
  3. Nick brought home an awesome dinner. This happened because my mom and I were waffling on what to make/have for dinner, and Nick offered to pick up anything we wanted on his way home. Nothing begets happiness like a delicious dinner that required no effort.

Hey, it worked! I feel much happier now having reflected on those moments of happiness from today.


A quiet night in San Francisco

As I was putting the little one to sleep tonight (might I mention parenthetically that he slept from 9pm to 5am twice this week?), I couldn't believe how quiet the city was. Usually I hear trucks and sirens, motorcycles and revellers. Tonight I heard only the low hum of the laundromat next door and a cat yawning at the foot of the bed. I wondered, is it Christmas Eve? Have they shut down the street for an early morning parade?

Nope, we just got new windows installed. Marvelous Marvin...stunning Simonton...luxurious "Low-E" double-paned slices of paradise, insulating us from the bustling world outside.

We only got three windows, mind you, and we still have roughly 14 to go. These three cost as much as a nice vacation would, though, so if you don't see a travelogue blog post for some time, that's why. But in my newfound cocoon of a bedroom, I'll travel transcendentally to places that exceed any real-life budget or days of paid time off. So I figure my windows are well worth it.


Copying a meme from Mary

1. Flip to page 18, paragraph 4 - in the book closest to you right now, what does it say?
"Oh..." She leapt into the back seat of the car. "Everything," she said. The toothy smile was sudden and very winning. "Life." From Gore Vidal's Hollywood, which I haven't read but which my mom pulled off the shelf the other night.

2. If you stretch out your left arm as far as possible, what are you touching?
Medela Pump-in-style

3. What’s the last program you watched on TV?
Desperate Housewives

4. Without looking, guess what time it is.
9:59 pm. It is actually 9:57 pm. Damn I'm good.

5. Aside from the computer, what can you hear right now?
Nick laughing while watching the show Dexter, a comedy about a serial killer. You read that right.

6. When was the last time you were outside and what did you do?
I went out at 2 pm to get grip tape for the front steps, rice, and a permit to park in the lot near our house.

7. What are you wearing?
A Depeche Mode t-shirt from their Playing the Angel tour, black leather belt, black jeans.

8. Did you dream last night? If you did, what about?
I remember dreaming last night, but I'd forgotten it by about 10 am.

9. When was the last time you laughed?
During dinner, with my mom, Nick, and the baby. I can't remember what we laughed about but I know it was a fun mealtime.

10. What’s on the walls, in the room you’re in right now?
Nothing! We need to hang something, badly.

11. Have you seen anything strange lately?
Today on two separate occasions, men crossed the street in front of me, with their backs toward the oncoming traffic.

12. What do you think about this meme?
I like its randomness.

13. What’s the last film you saw?
Y Tu Mama Tambien. I didn't think it was all that great.

14. If you became a multimillionaire, what would you do with the money?
Hire someone to make me my own clothes.

15. Tell us something about yourself that most people don’t know.
Lately, whenever I get sad about leaving my baby and going back to work, I've been eating ice cream.

16. If you could change ONE THING in this world, without regarding politics or bad guilt, what would it be?
Make bicycles, scooters, and motorcycles the default mode of transportation.

17. Do you like to dance?

18. George Bush?
I hope history acknowledges his presidency for the travesty it has been.

19. What do you want your children’s names to be, girl/boy?
Future ones? Dashiell, Asa, Parker, and Pearl. (Wow, I'm going to have 5 kids?!)

20. Would you ever consider living abroad?
This has long been a dream of mine.

21. What do you want God to tell you, when you come to heaven?
That my grandmother really was watching over me my whole life, and I'm going to get to talk it all over with her there.

22. Who should do this meme?


One more week

Tomorrow is the beginning of my last week of maternity leave.


How to slow down time

Give yourself a task to do (say, blogging) every day in one particular time period. You'll find yourself noticing every day in that time period, remarking how the time period seems to drag inexplicably on. You may even discover, for the first time in your adult life, that you're wishing time would hurry up and pass. Then you'll slap yourself for having such a thought. You'll realize you're actually savoring every day of your life, taking a moment to pay attention to the here and now. You'll find that when you do this, it starts to feel like you have all the time in the world. Instead of asking where the time went, you realize you know quite well where it went, because you paid attention, close attention. It's pretty cool.


What's worse...

having a sick baby or being sick yourself? I might be on my way to both unless I get to sleep soon.



I had a really nice Thanksgiving, visiting my brother and sister-in-law. And when we had to eat and run because we were trying to beat a baby (and mommy) meltdown, I think all the parents present understood and weren't insulted. The food was scrumptious. In case Mary doesn't document it herself, we had:

Smoked Turkey
Sour Cream and Chive Mashed Potatoes
50's-Style Baked Sweet Potatoes (w/marshmallow on top!)
Creamy Brussels Sprouts
Chunky Cranberry Sauce
Bread + Butter
Pumpkin Pie
French Silk Pie

My favorite dish was, surprisingly, the sweet potatoes. I'd never eaten the marshmallow kind, but these were absolutely To. Die. For. Everything was great, but that dish was quite stupendous. Mary kept hinting about how much butter was in them. I didn't push her to reveal the cold, hard facts. It's the holidays!


No comment, part two

I've finally decide not to allow anonymous comments anymore. I had left that option open for a couple of my friends who read this blog regularly but don't have Blogger accounts, in the hopes that they would be encouraged to leave comments so I know they care...

But since they almost never leave comments, even when I give them the opportunity to have their own customized MP3 ringtones on my cell phone (I mean, come ON people, WHAT DOES IT TAKE?!), then it's obviously not that important to have the option to leave comments anonymously. Meanwhile, leaving that option open for my supposedly-caring-but-stubbornly-taciturn loved ones also means that trolls and the like can spam and desecrate my blog on a regular basis.

So, from now on, you'll have to declare yourselves. It's not like I'll lose out on all those meaningful, caring, and thoughtful comments from the multitude of friends and family members who pore over this blog's every word. (Because I just know y'all pore over every word.)

And for the record, to know how much YOU* all are loved, I want to note that:

Anna (SC): your ringtone is Violent Femmes' "Blister in the Sun"
Anna (NYC): your ringtone is Jeff Buckley's "Last Goodbye"
Amy: your ringtone is Abba's "Dancing Queen," though this ring has been requested by someone else in my circle, so you may actually have to pick another song, but obviously not via blog comment, since I know you don't have a Blogger account.
Sarah: your ringtone is Camper Van Beethoven's "Sad Lover's Waltz." Not that you ever call.
Carrie: you have a blog now so you'll be able to comment, and I fully expect you to request your own ringtone.
JP: your ringtone is that medieval-sounding song by Dead Can Dance.
Sari: your ringtone is The Rolling Stones' "Ride On Baby," though I will be changing it as soon as I rip my Big Audio Dynamite CD.

*Family members have already been notified of their ringtones and/or have had the opportunity to request them in person. Not being on this list does not mean you don't have your own ringtone. It just means I don't know whether you actually read my blog or not. Care to comment? No? I thought so!


Mommy Brain continued

Ugh. I've definitely run out of blog posts for the month, and yet I continue. Luckily, my friend Carrie (who just started her own blog!) sent me a link to an article about Mommy Brain so there you go.


Waiting for Footballers Wives

Apparently Joan Collins is going to be on the upcoming season of the show. So exciting!


Request line

The engineer has again been notified! [Blogger was down when I tried posting this yesterday.]

Well it was going to be a short blog anyway, about how I finally figured out how to make my phone play MP3s for rings. I'm terribly excited about this. Let me know what song you want for your ring. I'm taking requests! And to all the lurkers, if I don't hear from you, you automatically get "Is there anybody out there?"


Saturday night snapshot

Baby's in bed, champagne's being drunk, and songs are being downloaded from iTunes.

Downloaded so far:

Jimmy Eat World "A Praise Chorus"
Foo Fighters "Best of You"
Snow Patrol "Chasing Cars"

And...well, I was gonna say the night was young, but it's really not. I have to get to bed! Luckily so far I've only blown three bucks!

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A day in the life

3:30 am
Awaken to grunting sounds in bassinet. Pull baby out, place on boob, wait, checking occasionally to note that baby's eyes stay closed (hallelujah! this means he'll go back to sleep easily). Return baby to bassinet. Lie down, waiting apprehensively to see if grunting noises continue. Enjoy the silence. Fall back to sleep.

4:45 am
Awaken to grunting sounds in bassinet. [See 3 am]

6 am
Awaken to grunting sounds in bassinet. Ask husband to change baby's diaper. Feel incredibly grateful when husband offers to bounce baby back to sleep. Fall back to sleep.

7:45 am
Awaken to grunting sounds in bassinet. Suspect I'm done sleeping for the night. Peer over into bassinet. Glimpse, unsurprised, two wide-open eyes beaming out at me. Pull baby out, place on boob, wait, noting how bright and awake baby looks. Tell husband I'm getting up.

8 am
Sit for a while in living room with bright-eyed, bushy-tailed baby climbing all over me. Realize I am still exhausted. Figure baby can climb all over me in bed. Return to bed. Pretend to sleep while baby climbs all over me.

9 am
Give up pretending to sleep. Place now-fussy baby on boob. Get up, change baby's diaper, carry baby into kitchen, set baby down, make strong coffee and toast half a croissant with cheese melted on it.

9:30 am
Play with baby while baby sits in swing, being utterly charming and smiling incessantly, carrying on a surprisingly meaningful conversation with me.

10:15 am
Realize baby is exhibiting signs of being sleepy (fussiness and heavy-looking eyes). Hear him howl "owh" just like that woman on Oprah said babies howl when they are sleepy. Swaddle baby, place in crib. Enjoy the silence again as baby falls to sleep.

10:30 am
Feel effects of strong coffee (sudden motivation to write several thank-you notes for baby presents). Write thank yous and feel extremely proud of self.

11:30 am to 3 pm
Nurse baby. Change baby's diaper. Play with baby. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Make plans to meet friend for dinner downtown.

3:15 pm
Give Nick ride downtown. Get extremely frustrated in downtown traffic. Change plans with friend to meet elsewhere in the city. Drop Nick off and flee downtown.

4 pm
Park at Marina Green. Nurse baby in public! Walk along the water with baby in Kangaroo pouch. Admire baby. Kiss baby. Feel like baby is best baby in the world.

5 pm
Chat with friend on cell phone while sitting in parked car with best baby in the world.

5:30 pm
Pick up other friend from work. Head off to dinner, destination unknown.

5:40 pm
En route to nowhere in particular decide to eat at Patxi's in Hayes Valley.

6 pm
Marvel at how long it took to get from Marina to Hayes Valley. Hope to find parking space. Find parking space immediately.

6:05 pm
Sit down with crashed-out baby in pouch. Realize I forgot the pacifier in the car. Hope it'll all be OK. Proceed with dinner and pleasant grown-up conversation. Baby sleeps through.

7 pm
Baby wakes up and bleats momentarily. Admire baby's darling "scrunch face." Wonder if anyone minds hearing crying baby. Start to fret. Stop fretting when baby stops bleating and again becomes most charming baby in the world. Feel proud as friend, waitress and others in restaurant admire baby.

7:15 pm
Drop friend off at Bart. Get extremely frustrated again in downtown traffic. Pick up Nick, who has a strange craving for crab cakes. Head to Trader Joes, where they just might have them.

7:30 pm
Shop with awake but charming baby in pouch.

8:30 pm
Return home just in time to beat baby meltdown. Unload groceries. Prepare bath.

9 pm
Bathe, change, swaddle, bottle. Best baby in the world goes to sleep with little fuss. Pump. Fold laundry. Pour a glass of wine. Enjoy a little me time.

10:30 pm
Post first blog entry of the day.

11 pm
Begin writing second blog entry of the day.

11:10 pm
Consider not finishing second blog entry of the day because it's too difficult to get it just right. Decide I don't like the phrase "me time." Try unsuccessfully to think up replacement phrase.

11:24 pm
Decide to stop obsessively self-editing. Post.

"Mommy brain"

"Mommy brain." Another phrase I've always thought sounded pretty stupid. I still think that, but I have to say I'm understanding its meaning a little too well lately. First of all, yesterday at 11:33 pm as I was drifting off to sleep, I experienced a weird Groundhog Day moment when I realized that I'd forgotten, again, to blog for the day, even though I'd managed to blog once that day about how I'd forgotten to blog the day before as a way of making up for forgetting to blog the day before. (I wanted to write twice yesterday to bring myself up to quota for the month--silly, I know, but I'm a bean counter at heart!) Do the math on that; it actually adds up, mommy brain or not. It's also very meta, again. I just love things that are meta.

So here I am, still "behind." And because, again, I meant to do a "day in the life" post for today, Friday, and, again, probably because of Mommy Brain (am I becoming too self-referential? can you all tell I've been drinking wine? yes, drinking wine while breastfeeding...deal with it!), I forgot to take notes about what I did, I'm going to just wing it. I will, however, count it as a separate post. Gotta get up to quota!

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Forgotten day

Yeah, so, I forgot to blog yesterday. Maybe it was because my blog from the day before was so fortuitously related to the big news about the woman who got kicked off a Delta plane for breastfeeding. I suppose I wanted to leave it up as long as possible in solidarity.

I've also been thinking about doing one of those "day in the life" blogs (Mary suggested it and I like the idea). Only problem is I keep waiting for an "impressive" day to document, and I guess my days aren't as "impressive" as I'd like. (I put "impressive" in quotes because I'm well aware that nobody's got these high expectations but myself!) Yesterday was probably as good a day to document as any, but I didn't really keep notes, so I'll just summarize.

The day was quietly eventful--it was a gorgeous autumn day, and I went on a morning walk for moms and babies in Golden Gate Park. Then I drove through the park and home via the Great Highway. In the afternoon, our housecleaner came, and because of her hard work, I was able to agree to have our friend over later for dinner (we ordered in from Mehfil...sooooo yummy!). At some point, I started an online email list for my moms group, too (very proud of myself). And I mothered the heck out of my baby all day long. It probably doesn't sound like a tiring day, but somehow I was tired enough that I didn't think about blogging until 11:55 pm as I was drifting off to sleep, at which point it was too late.

So here's a blog today about yesterday. How meta! (It would be truly meta if I counted it as two posts. I don't think I'm that meta.)


Breastfeeding welcome here!

Mothering magazine held a contest to design an international symbol for breastfeeding, explaining it as follows:

The purpose of an international symbol for breastfeeding is to increase public awareness of breastfeeding, to provide an alternative to the use of a baby bottle image to designate baby friendly areas in public, and to mark breastfeeding friendly facilities.

Blogs are virtual, but that doesn't mean they can't be breastfeeding-friendly! Put the icon on your blog too--it's available for use here. Also, the mag's web site has a nice interview with the designer of the winning logo (along with a few entries that didn't win but were definitely worth a look).

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No comment

Tutujewel packed up her computer for her upcoming interstate move, which means my poor blog will suffer for lack of comments. In case you were wondering where she was.


Glamour girl

My dear, dear friend Ramlah Frediani is an actor, and she has a fabulous new web site, www.ramlah.net. Check out the clip of her appearance on The OC!


Boys night in

It's Saturday night, and I had another night out on the town without my baby. Now, it's not that I enjoy being away from him. In fact, when I'm not within ten feet of the little creature, I miss him rather a lot. But, before I had the baby, I worried so much that I'd lose all sense of myself as a discrete individual--and that's been something of particular importance to me throughout my life. So I'm especially proud of myself when I can get out and do something that feels similar to my pre-baby life. (I guess it's a good thing that we live somewhere within a couple blocks of a bunch of really great restaurants, because I've been able to hit some local hot spots without being too far from home, in case I need to sprint home to, y'know, cuddle and soothe and whatnot.)

Tonight I went to Senses (decent food, horrible service) with my old college roommate and her parents who are in town. The food was passable, but the restaurant was so hideously loud that I wouldn't have heard my cell phone even if Nick had called me frantically. Luckily, I knew the boys were home watching a Star Wars marathon on TV, and I had a feeling everything was going to be OK. Sure enough, I arrived home (90 minutes after leaving, natch) and found The Empire Strikes Back playing in the living room as Nick and the two kitties were putting the baby to sleep. A happy, healthy boys night in!


Maternity leave clock

It's ticking! Soon, I'll be returning to work. I'm gearing myself up mentally for that, and I know I'll be able to handle the transition back, whatever challenges it will present. But however strong I may find myself, and however well I may be able to achieve some semblance of balance between work and new motherhood, I can still take this moment to lament the brutality that is this country's family leave policy, which roughly boils down to:

  • Twelve weeks maximum, federally, that your job is protected, meaning they have to hold your job open for you until you return. Remember, this hardly ever means your child is 12 weeks old when you return to work. Let's say you have any sort of pregnancy complication where you have to leave work before you deliver; your 12 weeks starts ticking as soon as you stop working. We do get another 12 weeks' leave in California, but that's unusual, and there's always the paid leave issue, as in...
  • ...There's no guarantee of paid leave. If your company is generous enough to provide any sort of paid leave, consider yourself very, very, very fortunate. There's no law requiring them to do this, as far as I know.
  • Six weeks disability (for a normal delivery), during which you qualify for whatever government disability you're eligible for. Any non-superwoman who's gone through childbirth knows this is the absolute bare minimum. You get two more weeks for a c-section, but from what I've heard about c-sections, man, two more weeks seems likely to be, again, the bare minimum.

    It's so stingy, brutal, lamentable. And my clock is ticking. But like Tutu always says (slightly paraphrased, of course), "[Working mom] happiness takes [superhuman] strength!"

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  • 11.09.2006


    You know how some words or names you just don't like? Something about the sound, or maybe it's the underlying concept that doesn't sit right with you. Well, I've discovered I can't stand the word "babywearing." It's one of the "attachment parenting" tenets that describes carrying your baby close to your body in a sling or wrap. "Babywearing" or "wearing your baby" just sounds stupid.

    The underlying concept, though? LOOOOOOVE it! That's thanks to the Kangaroo Korner Adjustable Fleece Pouch, which arrived in the mail today and enabled me to...um..."wear my baby" out to a restaurant and have dinner at a cramped corner table with complete mobility and comfort.

    As I was sitting at that table, sipping wine and sampling spicy South Indian cuisine among a bunch of Mission hipster adults as my infant child snoozed through it all and took up no more space than a few extra dress sizes, I decided the underlying concept behind "babywearing" is pretty darned cool.

    But I still think the word is stupid.

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    Random observations

    Here's what I want to know: In Lost, is the guy playing the "Other" who was going to shoot Sawyer the same guy who played Tommy, the jerky beefcake boyfriend in the 1983 movie Valley Girl? He kinda looks like a much older, heftier version. Let's look it up on IMDB, shall we?


    (Oh, and the episodes they showed so far this "season"? Weak!)

    P.S. OMG, I couldn't post this on November 8 because Blogger was down, with this funny error message:

    "This server is currently experiencing a problem. An engineer has been notified and will investigate."

    For some reason that message conjures up in my mind the image of a lonely geek sitting in a quiet cubicle in the deserted Googleplex with his pager going off, walking over to a server, rebooting it, and quietly returning to his cubicle for more late-night workaholism. If the message didn't mention "an engineer," I'd probably think there were greater Googlesque forces at work to fix this problem. But that solitary engineer must be hard at work. (He'd better do something besides rebooting, though, because the damn server has been down now for god knows how long.)

    (This post was in fact written on November 8, though. As I was watching Lost, in case you hadn't figured that out already.)


    I vote NO on unrealistic celebrity role models!

    I saw footage today of Britney Spears on David Letterman. She had her baby right before I had mine, and I inevitably compared myself with her throughout our pregnancies, because we were always at roughly the same stage.

    I'll admit, I identified most with Britney when I saw her interview with Matt Lauer on Dateline--when she was dressed in sloppy, ill-fitting clothes, hair all disheveled and mascara all clumpy; when she was defending her seemingly bad mothering; when she got skewered in the press for looking and acting so...imperfect. I had never liked Britney so much! She seemed so real and normal.

    Since then, she's gradually strayed back to the celebrity archetype...appearing naked and sveltely pregnant on the cover of a glossy magazine, going on a relaxing "babymoon" to some exotic and expensive paradise resort, having her baby in a fancy birthing center..and now, showing up on national television all taut, toned, and unrealistically glamorous just weeks after giving birth.

    I find myself a little disappointed to have bought in, even for a second, to the myth that a celebrity could possibly be "just like me." I'm embarrassed that I even spent a moment wondering why my post-partum figure isn't all svelte and sleek. I can't believe I even have to remind myself that she has trainers and chefs and maids and nannies and wardrobe consultants and make-up artists and...other luxuries I probably don't even know exist. I'm mad at myself for feeling even that hint of self-recrimination back when I really wanted to go on a pre-baby vacation but couldn't afford it. And I'm especially embarrassed that I actually believed that her marriage could possibly be a happy one!

    That's why I'm voting no on comparing oneself with celebrities. (If only I could explain my real ballot choices with such authority!)


    Election Dread

    Here we are again, another Election Day almost upon us. I am dreading it. I wish I could just skip it. Too many propositions! Thirteen statewide ones, 11 local, none of which I really know about. Sure, I've seen the ads, read the odd blog post, heard a few radio shows, etc. and I know how I'm probably going to vote on the major ones. But that leaves a bunch I haven't heard about: 84? 88? how about SF measure K...or A through K, for that matter... anyone? ANYONE? And just because I may have decided how I'm going to vote doesn't mean I actually understand the consequences of these massive pieces of legislation I'm voting on. (I've complained about this problem before on this blog...) Then there's all the judicial and board of education seats...I have NO idea who any of these people are or what impact electing or not electing them will have on my life or on society as a whole. What am I supposed to do? I've got no time to educate myself, and honestly, is there any practical way to educate oneself? I'm calling it Election Dread, and I've got a bad case of it.


    Rant: Calling out Emo

    When I saw the winners of MTV's "Video of the Year" Video Music Award, Panic! At the Disco, perform on the show, I could only laugh. The Gothic Lolita-meets-Alice In Wonderland costumes and the I've-got-a-headache-this-big-inducing song spoke volumes about our current mainstream's terrible taste in music. (I'd show an image of this mess of a performance, but the only VMA shots I can find online are of the very attractive Beyonce and Shakira performances. Coincidence? I DON'T THINK SO!)

    Anyway, much as we (that's my own personal royal "we," btw) look back at other erstwhile MTV favorites with the derision and embarrassment that often accompany musical hindsight (Color Me Badd, I'm lookin' at you), I can already predict that this emo trend won't stand the test of time. (It's only been a year or two and in my book, emo's already failed, but it might take the masses a while to catch up. Ah, those masses...And yes I do realize how condescending this sounds, but isn't that what Internet rants are for?)

    But Panic! At the [Stupidly Punctuated] Disco aren't even emo's worst offenders. Sure, they look the most moronic, but, musically, the Emo Band We'll Be Most Embarrassed to Have Thought We Liked at the Time Award goes to none other than Fallout Boy. You may not think you know their music, but you probably do. (I'd play or link to it for you if I didn't view that as a completely unnecessary audio assault.) And to prove to you that I'm not just an oldster talking trash about all that newfangled noise on the radio, I'll present the following fact, which inspired this rant:

    It appears that an EXCELLENT contemporary band, Bloc Party, seems to be the OPENING act for Panic! at the Disco on their current tour. This is truly and obviously wrong and reminds me why I left the music industry. How glad I am that I ended up in the glorious gaming industry, where great taste rules. (That line's supposed to be dripping with sarcasm, in case it wasn't quite clear.) WHY are these two bands even associating with each other? It's wrong I tell you, just wrong.

    Wow, in case it wasn't obvious that I'm back on caffeine, I'll come clean in the interests of full disclosure: THIS BLOG POST BROUGHT TO YOU BY A DOUBLE SOY LATTE FROM SOME CAFE IN BERNAL HEIGHTS THAT TOTALLY RULES!


    Age-inappropriate entertainment

    Here's my question: even if I could find a theater where I felt comfortable doing so, would it be OK to bring my infant son to see Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan? Because I really really want to!


    November words

    I can't believe there are so many writing activities in November, and that a couple people I know are choosing to partake in multiple of them. I had a hard time coming up with this post! I mean, I had all sorts of subjects that might make interesting blog posts (the rain, the upcoming elections, child psychology, Halloween costumes for babies, and on and on...) but it's one thing to have the idea and quite another to write the interesting blog post. Instead, I'm writing about not writing the blog post, which requires hardly any writing at all. With that, I'm done for today. Hurray!


    Brazilian Girls

    Tonight I actually went out to see a concert! Brazilian Girls at the Warfield. I gotta admit I'm a bit proud of myself because it took some coordination. I only have about 1 1/2 to 2 hours of free time away from the little creature, and I definitely didn't want to waste those precious child-free minutes on an opening act and that aimless milling about while you wait for the show to begin.

    Luckily I had an "in" with the band and was able to find out approximately when they'd be taking the stage, so I could plan my evening around the 90-minute set. I got lucky, too, that other forces (Nick, baby) conspired to allow me to get out of the house during that precise window. It's weird; I always used to intend to go to shows when my friends' bands came to town to play, but, especially on rainy evenings like tonight, I often found myself too lazy to schlep out to see them when the time came. Yet somehow tonight, having to do more work to make it to the show in fact made it easier to actually make it to the show.

    I'm glad I did; even though the lead singer refused to show her face (she was wearing an odd lacy outfit and mask that sorta made her look like a sequined robot, all impersonal and vague and obscured), I enjoyed the jazzy-rock-dance-groove. It made for a very fitting soundtrack for my first post-partum night on the town.


    Neverwinter Nights 2

    Well, NaBloPoMo or whatever it's called isn't off to a fantastic start for me. I'm barely getting this post up, and it's only November 1! But a day-to-day ritual so appeals to me, and I figure this will be an excuse to write crappy posts without much editing or forethought. So, today I'm writing that I'm excited about Neverwinter Nights 2, a PC game that comes out today. I really loved the first NWN and have been waiting several years for a sequel. I'm not sure when I'll actually get to play it but it's top on my list right now!