30 November 2009

Too Many To Count

Mrs. Flinger came up with something brilliant, [W]rite of Passage. You should go check it out and see if you're interested in joining up.
This first week, the over-achiever beta challenge is to tell your most embarrassing story.
I try very hard not to dwell in my many embarrassments, so as to avoid becoming awash in shame. The best cure for an embarrassment hangover is pretending that none of it ever happened, and my freakishly good memory can quickly become my own worst enemy.
Thinking seriously about this challenge, I found myself paralyzed with mortification as episode after episode after episode of shit-I-never-think-about hit me smack in the face and bloodied up my nose.
I can't pick just one.
Even if I can pick one episode of flinch that is objectively more horrifying than the others, the feelings swirling around the memory are equally intense for all.
Here are some lessons I've learned.
Please to be edifying yourself.

*Science Camp counselors should listen to the 11-year-old when she's dancing around holding her crotch with tears in her eyes. She has to pee. And peeing her pants at eleven is REALLY humiliating.

*Red wine stains.

*Blood stains.

*Vomit stains.

*Bodily.....fluids stain.

*Fainting sucks, and makes one feel like a pansy-ass girl.

*Some people cry when they're mad. If they're anything like me, they HATE it.

*Semen in the eye can cause a raging case of conjunctivitis.

*Getting sick at a friend's house can be horrible.

*Actions can be misconstrued.

*Words as well.

*Telling a simple lie because telling the vastly improbable and convoluted truth seems too hard makes it infinitely more brutal if that lie becomes known.

*Keep secrets close or not at all.

*Don't hook up with friends. Or friends of friends. They all talk. Friends of friends of friends is probably okay.

*Keep the curtains closed.

*Don't let purses or pockets make phone calls.

*It's possible to get a concussion by walking into a wall.

*Laying one's soul bare and open for another person's taking might leave one with nothing left behind.

*If one keeps thoughts and desires and opinions about someone locked up inside of one's head, don't ever drink with that person.

*Keep irrational feelings and thought processes inside the brain.

*Bathroom dreams can be very realistic.

*Don't try too hard to remember childbirth too vividly.

*Discovering a latex allergy in the wrong circumstances can be positively awful and painful and terrifying and oh my god what have I contracted.

*Watch conversations around children.

*Video cameras are neither welcome nor allowed.

29 November 2009


At my grandfather's memorial

My uncle Russell is my grandfather's little brother. A year and a half apart. They shared a bed as children, they were both soldiers in WWII, they worked together on newspapers, they drank together, they loved each other. They were close.
Russell was a German POW. As a prisoner he was marched halfway to Russia and back again. When the war ended he weighed just 90lbs.
He taught me how to use a computer, back when computers were for youngsters and hobbyists. I was the youngster, he was the hobbyist.

2009's been hard for Russell. He had a heart attack. And a stroke. And his brother died.
On Wednesday he had another stroke.

Strokes are weird. Weird and awful and strange.

It's weird that he there he is, Russell, and he knows exactly who you are and where he is and what's going on, but he's stuck squeezing your hand once for yes and twice for no.
It's weird that he can't swallow anything, but he's conscious and aware and refusing a feeding tube.
If you don't eat, how long can you live, really?

Strokes are weird, and this year has been hard.

Closet Tour

Closet Full of Dresses

I counted yesterday.
I have 40 dresses that I wear, plus two (pre-pregnancy) that are a little tight around the ribcage, but are my FAVORITES, and are simply not slated for donation. Ever.
I do, by the way, regularly go through my clothes and donate/purge/etc.
I just wear a lot of dresses.
I think I look better in dresses than in anything else that the world has to offer, as far as my body type is concerned.
Are you bothered by the fact that my closet is organized by color?
You should invite me to your holiday party, so I can wear one of my fancypants frocks.

28 November 2009

Compare and Contrast

Me, the last time I saw most of the people I saw last night:

9th Grade

Me, last night:




Write a short compare and contrast essay, to be turned in before the end of class.

26 November 2009

Thankful, in Photos

I only feel a little bit bad about how long this page is going to take to load for slow connections.
Not being here doesn't mean I don't love you.
It means I couldn't find your photo.
I love you.
Give your cherished ones a squeeze today.
Give thanks.
Happy Thanksgiving

Ben Loves Me

Best. Picture. Ever




Nikon Party - 3-Way Smoochin

with Carl on the plane

Conference Time

Limo with gorgeous Maria

Photo Cred

Me & Krishna

Family - The James Side

Right before @grace134 and I landed in Salt Lake City and kicked off the plane
Photo Cred

Leah & Sarah get philosophical

The Boys
Photo Cred


Duncan wrassling with Elliot & Gabey



James & Gabriel & a Balloon

With Daphne and Monica

Julia and Daniel


Don't pay that no mind

Photo Cred


25 November 2009

Mallard Heels

I am strangely and unreasonably enchanted by these shoes. First I saw them and thought, "WTF are those duck shoes?? Why?" Then I realized that ohmygodyes those ARE duck shoes.
Then I stared at them for awhile.
Then I talked about them on twitter for awhile.
Then I sent the link to everyone I know.
Although every fashionable bone in my body is repelled by these shoes, they've cast some sort of unreasonable spell over me, and I can't stop thinking of them, or thinking of owning them.
Even though I know they are (a) unacceptable, and (b) $350.
And yet.
Look at them again.
It's hard to get them out of your head.
I need to be famous.
I think famous people can wear duck shoes.
From Anthropologie.

Pretty Kitchen Knick Knacks

I'm all about joy in small things these days.

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Superhero Flip Book

Gabriel is spending his first Thanksgiving ever in his whole life away from me.
It's also the first Thanksgiving ever in my whole life without my grandpa.
Thanksgiving is always, always at my grandpa's house you see.
He makes the turkey and the ham and my mom sends me and my brother over to peel and peel and peel and peel potatoes and my aunt worries about the vegetables and my mom worries about the pies and hand whips the whipped cream with a whisk just because even though we have a mixer and my uncle Ben makes sure there's some sort of appetizer and there's always plenty of wine.
Lots of people come and we all sit around eating our faces off and chattering like squirrels.
My mom's still hosting it at my grandpa's house, which will be good and bad and strange all at once.
It will be nice to see family.
It will be hard not to be sad about the family that isn't there.
I hope Gabriel has a good weekend with his dad.
Be well, little super-dude-tough-guy.
I love you.
Happy Thanksgiving.

24 November 2009


I have a friend (who might end up reading this, hi! (and I would (and have) said this to her face, so no worries there))....
My parentheticals got too long.
Start over.
I have friend who smokes about a pack a day, premium, $6/pack cigarettes.
This bugs the shit out of me.
Not because smoking is unhealthy. EVERYONE knows that smoking is unhealthy.
You're a big girl, do what you feel.
Everyone gets a vice or two and don't let me stop you from reveling in yours.
I can't stand it because this friend is on an extremely tight budget, and on the edge of a moneypit precipice.
$200/month on cigarettes.
If she just smoked LESS, she could afford to buy more necessities for her family, or pay down a little more debt, or WHATEVER.

23 November 2009

A SANTA question

If you are a single parent.
And have shared custody with the other parent.
And have a split holiday schedule.
And celebrate Christmas.
AND celebrate the Santa part.
OR if you have an opinion on the following.

I have a question for you!

What do you do for Santa? Does he come to both houses? Does he come to only the house that houses the child on Christmas morning that particular year? Do you split the cost of Santa gifts? Do you discuss what the Santa gifts will be? Is it necessary to come to some sort of consensus?

For informational purposes, this is the first year that K.Dot and I will have a formal actually real custody agreement. Gabriel will be spending Christmas Eve at my house, as he has every year. However in the past K has come over on Christmas and spent the morning at my house. This year K will be picking up Gabriel on the morning of the 26th, and taking him up to Sacramento to have a second 'dad Christmas' up there. So we're trying to hammer down our Santa mythology while the kid still believes in magic.

Also, so far twitter says that Santa should come to both houses.

Let's talk about Facebook!

Some features I'd like added so as to be better able to gossip via Facebook (with my sister):

1. Why can't you forward messages you get in fb to other users? So I could forward messages to my sister.
2. You know how if you're looking at a person or a picture or whatever you can 'share' it? And then send it as a message to someone to discuss? You should be able to do that with status updates. So instead of recapping in my own message, I could just forward them to my sister.
3. You should be able to save chats. Or forward them as messages. Or something. It should be like gmail, where there's a folder of gchat conversations that you can go through and read. And, most importantly, forward to other people, like my sister.
On a completely different, yet EVER SO SLIGHTLY related note, unless you specifically forbid me to tell anyone about something, with words such as, "Don't tell anyone this okay?" I will probably tell someone*. I'm a very good secret keeper if it's established that secrets are what I'm keeping, but I'm also an enthusiastic gossip. Just FYI.
I send stuff to my sister, is what I'm trying to say.

*Exceptions to this rule include:
obvious pouring your heart out to me conversations
things that make me look bad
my small inner circle of friends whom I know well enough to gauge when they want something kept secret and whom I love enough to do it
the VERY FEW who know my secrets

Also! Facebook! What the fuck is this:

That's my BROTHER. Stop telling me to talk to him on Facebook. I TALK TO HIM IN REAL LIFE. REGULARLY.

22 November 2009


My grandmother would have been 82 today (well, technically yesterday now that we've crept past midnight).
She died when she was 68.
It was terrible.
We were close.
I adored her.
People say I look like her.
That thrills me, because she was beautiful.
I went to Ireland to visit family friends when I was 19. I got off the bus in Donegal, and a woman whom I had never met came up to me and said, "You must be Jenny, you look exactly like Caryl."
I know my grandmother would have adored Gabriel.
This is the first year that I'm going into the holiday season with both of my mom's parents gone.
I miss them both.
It really sucks.
Grandma (holding Bev), Nadine, Sandra
The oldest of her sisters, looking nonplussed about this whole holiday picture thing.



My Grandmother