Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
As you know, the spreadsheet says I need to be working out. This is currently slotted for 7:30-8:00 p.m., but I'm sure you can imagine how well that is going. By 7:30, Kevin is home, infecting me with his laziness, and Charlotte is in bed for the night, which always leaves me feeling self-indulgent for having survived another day of motherhood, a.k.a. working for the most demanding prima donna since Mariah Carey. My thought process is usually, "I SO deserve that massive slab of cheesecake/massive glass of wine/massive internet shopping spree," NOT, "I SO deserve that massive workout." But ultimately I do blame Kevin for the fact that I have yet to implement this part of the spreadsheet.
So today I decided I would work out during Charlotte's nap, before blogging. But then I looked outside and realized that our house was about to be devoured by leaves. Now my original plan for fall was to allow all the leaves to fall, because why go through the work of removing them when more are simply arriving? But this strategy doesn't work for managing body hair, and it doesn't work for leaves. Because in both cases you end up being suffocated, you die, and no one can even find your body for all the crap all over it. OK maybe not, but I really don't want to take my chances with the leaves. Our yard looks like there's some kind of weird Star Wars creature living on it. And then I looked up on Weight Watchers the point value for raking some leaves, and it was like double the elliptical machine, seriously. So I went out and raked me some leaves.
And then I got to thinking, it's really pretty dumb how we whine and complain about household chores and even pay other people to do them and buy all these contraptions on TV to make the chores easier and less strenuous--and then we go work out. Why don't we just skip the workout, which is at least as tedious and boring as any chore, and just clean or rake or something? We could even wear that cool sweat-wicking workout gear if it makes us feel any better. I'm telling you, I just got an awesome workout raking those leaves. My abs are begging for mercy, man! And better yet, there are like 50 billion more leaves to rake out there, which will keep me in workouts for the next month.
Yeah, I'm totally buying a leaf blower.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Wow, has it really been a month since my last post? Disturbing. Well, I guess since I'm in an airport with a laptop, I'll do a post...(Just for you, Kerry!)
So we moved. I really doubt there is anyone who likes to move. People like to have moved, as in past tense, as in they like getting a new house (hopefully), but the process is a different story, I think most people would rather listen to preteen girls discuss at length the proper way to say, "Hey," as I did recently while buying some cords at Radio Shack (there are always cords you must have, until you end up with a box of cords--when you move, of course--for which there is no discernible purpose). Incidentally, you don't want to say "Hey" high-pitched and enthusiastically, that just sounds stupid, you want to say it tersely and cooly, kind of monotone and casual so the other person doesn't think you are TOO excited to see them. This would be a horrible tragedy. Cut to me and the Radio Shack man, who look at each other and silently agree to a joint ritualistic suicide.
So, duh, I hate to move. I think I've said before that it really makes me question consumer culture. When you get down to it, this is all you need to live comfortably and decently in America: Laptop, cell phone, Couch, TV, coffee table, dining room table and some chairs, a few pots and pans and such, a bed, a dresser, some towels and sheets, and maybe like 10 outfits. I probably have about 30 outfits but I only really wear 10 anyway. Do I really need an entire room filled with African knick-knacks? When I am not in the process of moving, yes, I do, I can't breathe unless surrounded by wooden animal carvings. And how will anyone know how cultured and well-traveled I am otherwise? I can't just announce it, that would be gauche. But when I am in the process of moving, I consider that not having to carefully wrap that hand-blown Israeli vase in 17 layers of packing paper is definitely worth the risk of everyone I know concluding I have spent my entire life in a trailer park in Arkansas. And do I really need 4 tall bookshelves filled with books to convince people I am a genius? They should just know by reading my blog, LOL. My blog certainly takes up less space. But then again no one but Kerry and a few other charitable souls read it, so in the boxes those books go, yes, even that Danielle Steele novel (hopefully when people look at my bookshelves, they will be so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of books, they won't notice individual titles necessarily). Anyway, I think minimalism is very brave and self assured. Me--I need my stuff to feel impressive.
Do you think it is ironic that I am typing this in a word doc the top of which has a list of things I need to buy? hmmm, just noticed that. There is no hope for me.
There are good things about moving. It is a wonderful opportunity to purge all the stuff you thought would make you happier and more impressive and your life more convenient but turned out to be as overhyped as the 4th Indiana Jones film (and it pains me greatly to say that). For this move, this included, among other things, some stick up light bulbs "as seen on TV." Don't buy those, they give off less light than a firefly, and they run on batteries so if you leave your light by accident, it's dead next time you go to use it. And you never ever need more than one. I mistakenly bought 4--for the low low price of $29.99! In Europe, they sell for easily twice that amount!--not realizing you don't replace the bulb, you replace the batteries. Money down the drain. But I digress.
Moving also gives you the opportunity to "get organized," which is another way of making oneself feel successful. Everyone wants to look around their house and say to themselves, "Not only do I own a butt load of crap, I have mastered my crap. You don't see my crap running all over a desk or table loosey-goosey. No, I have put my crap in its place and shown it who is boss." Moving into a new house gives you a chance to reassert your authority in case you have lost control. Nothing says, "I own you," like throwing the object into a box and sealing it with tape. Of course, you may have to go buy more crap in order to whip the crap you already own into shape. That is why we have the Container Store, which is the consumer society equivalent of a training camp for Nazi prison guards. You come to us, we give you the tools you need to have absolute power. Those paper clips in your desk drawer will NEVER AGAIN run amok, we have a container for that. Heck, we have a container to organize your tampons by absorbency if that is your thing. If you buy everything we have, you pretty much will be God.
But generally, moving sucks, and I am might glad my latest (and hopefully last for awhile) is over. Now I only need to survive the kitchen remodel...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
This sign was probably my favorite thing in Philly, at the Liberty Bell. I just think it's so helpful when historical sites make provisions for those with uncontrollable compulsions.
This was my second reunion. The first one, 5 years ago, was made more wretched by my terrible attitude (and my terrible footwear). In my defense, I was in the throes of rewriting my entire dissertation after one of my committee members decided it simply would not do two days before my scheduled defense. I also had no job. So I was feeling a bit like a failure. And when one is feeling like a failure, going to hang out with a bunch of drunken Ivy Leaguers probably isn't the best thing (it probably isn't the best thing just across the board, but especially not then). To make matters worse, I wore uncomfortable shoes and didn't realize how much you have to walk at these things. So there I was rejected, humiliated, not knowing anyone, not drunk, and hobbling around campus. Needless to say, I was miserable and of course I had to make Kevin miserable, that really was not in doubt. There's just no point to it otherwise.
This time, I was determined to not make Kevin miserable. I wore comfy shoes. I had an answer prepared when someone asked me where I went to college and why ("Po-dunk Baptist University. Because I am only of average intelligence and prefer not to be too stimulated intellectually." Unfortunately, I never got to use it, as we talked mainly to people I had met before.) And most importantly, I stayed focused on the fact that I was there WITHOUT A BABY. I would almost enjoy spending a week in a concentration camp without a baby. I still found the entire scene more than a little ridiculous, mystifying, and boring but whatever.
But I did get to see George Will in the flesh:
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
And she was still sick today, one of the three measley days that I go to work/have childcare each week. I have missed so much work the past few months due to her illness that it is a wonder people remember I still work here (I always feel like I've won the lottery when I actually do get to come to work and then see that they haven't packed up my desk). I got to stay home instead today and futilely attempt to prevent her from wailing and moaning the entire day, even though her fever was largely gone. I have no idea what is wrong with the child. Then I got to come into work after she went to bed (that's where I am now) in a desperate effort to make headway on a project that ordinarily/in my full time/pre motherhood days would have been done in December. Work is now my vacation in this topsy-turvy world that Charlotte has created for me.
I love Charlotte. I do. I think she is the most adorable, precious little girl on the planet. But motherhood pretty much sucks. I am exhausted, I am rarely showered, my clothes always have crap on them, and, as mentioned, I eat most of my meals off the floor. I am pretty much a German Shepherd. And not a pampered one either, like one that does stuff.
Fatherhood, on the other hand, I could really get into. I know there are a lot of dads who are slogging it out in the trenches, and hats off to you fellahs. But from my vantage point, it's a pretty good deal. You get to have an adorable little child, but you basically resume your normal life. Every now and then you watch the little girl for an hour or two when her mother tells you she's about to have a nervous breakdown. In fact the main drawback of fatherhood from what I can tell is that you are now married to a mother. That's fairly significant now that I think about it. OK never mind, fatherhood sucks too.
But I'd still take it over motherhood. If anyone knows where I can apply for a father position, let me know.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I've already had my first major run-in with temptation since swearing off buying things I don't really really need. Not surprisingly, it has come in the beguiling form of Baby Gear, the shopaholic's nightmare because the vast majority of it is definitely unnecessary but buying it can be so easily justified as good parenting. Also, Baby Gear makes you think that if you just had this one toy or gadget, your child would be entertained for hours/would sleep for hours/would eat her vegetables/would poop where she's supposed to/would leave you alone for 5 minutes and you would be free to cook gourmet meals and do the Ab Sculptor Miracle Workout and read actual books and write a novel. And maybe cure cancer.
Friday, April 24, 2009
I mentioned a couple posts ago a theory about there being two types of people in the world, the guilty and the screwed. Well, there are actually more than two types because there are another two types of people in the world and combining the two sets of categories yields...4 types. Yes, 4 (pardon the delayed activation of my math skills, they aren't much in use). The other two types are people who do stuff, a.k.a "active people," and people who do not do stuff, I'm not going to call them lazy, mainly because I am one of them, but you know what I mean.