Oh My Lord, Hallelujah!

Have you ever noticed that when you hang around people you know are really religious, you catch yourself taking the Lord's name in vain a lot?

I work with a woman whose husband is the assistant pastor at a big church here in town. Yesterday, she goes, "At least it's not raining!"
I go, "Hallelujuah!"

Argh! I had been reining myself in recently, because I noticed that when I talk to her, I say things like, "Oh my god!", "Good Lord!" and "Thank God!" I'm like a broken record. I'm now trying to switch over to "Good Golly!" and "Oh, geez." I had been doing so well.

I happened to be hanging out with a priest during Labor Day weekend, and even though the priest is totally cool, I really tried to rein in my loose language. I did really well, no noticeable slips. I know it's not a huge deal, but it's good to notice your language patterns, in any case, and try to mix them up when you hear yourself saying the same tired phrases over and over. Click here to read full entry.

17 Weeks: Kicks? Gas? Liver Spasms? Boy? Girl?

I'm 17 weeks today. Par-tay! Four months, one week.

Kicks?
I really think I felt a couple of kicks on Monday. I watched Gossip Girl, and then a murder show about the town my sister lives in in Mississippi. (Creeeeeeeeeeeepy!) Anyway, I felt a bump harder than the little jump you feel when you have gas. Ordinarily I might just think it's one of those weird things your body does, like when your knee really hurts for a few minutes, out of nowhere, then just goes away. But, earlier in the day, I was watching TV on the couch (I didn't feel good, OK?) and was trying to nap, when all of a sudden I felt a quick sharp spasm under my rib cage. It was like a firm, sharp, kick. If I weren't pregnant, and had never felt that sensation before in my life, I wouldn't have thought too much of it. The baby isn't that high up yet, but I was sort of curled up at the time, so...

yeah, I have no clue.

Gender?
I think this baby's a boy.
Here's why:
I'm not having sweet cravings, at least any worse than usual.
I've had no nausea at all.
When the doc heard the heartbeat last week, it was in the range that wives' tales say is a boy...

yeah, I have no clue.

We have to wait 3 more weeks to find out. I totally don't care what the gender is. I love girls- am one myself- and love boys, too.   

Oh, sigh, I have to go to work. Click here to read full entry.

Sippy Cups For All

Last summer on a visit to Mississippi, I was playing with my 4 year old nephew. I was thirsty, so to be silly, I used a sippy cup. A sippy cup has a hole in the top, but a plastic stopper only allows you to get water out when you turn it upside down and drink. I was surprised how convenient it was. For someone who works with a laptop, a spill-proof cup is important. I used a sippy cup for the rest of my vist, keeping it on my nightstand and leaving it on the coffee table as we were playing, so I could get my 8 glasses of water.

One morning near the end of my trip, I stumbled out of bed with my sippy cup and staggered into the kitchen at 7am where my nephew J was contentedly drawing. He glanced up at me.

J, matter-of-factly: Kris, you can't take that sippy cup with you.
(Oddly, I HAD been thinking I was going to ask to take one with me.)
Me, trying to act innocent: How do you know I wanted to take this one?
J, still drawing: You can't, Kris, it's mine.  You have to buy your OWN sippy cup, in Connecticut.

Sigh.  He has always been one smart little boy. 

Don't knock the sippy cup until you try it. If you have access to one, check it out.  It's really great in the summer because you can fit ice into the wide top, so it keeps your water nice and cold.

Click here to read full entry.

On Why I'll Always Need My Own Room

Manager Mom has a blogapalooza up that asks her readers to share their workspaces- or rather, their intellectual sanctuaries. She asks, What's your intellectual sanctuary? Where do you go to do your thinking, working, and writing?

This is my office. It’s the before/messy version, but the clean version looks pretty much the same. Sometimes I sit at the desk, but usually I get under a blanket on the couch, even in the summer. I wake up, stumble to get coffee, then plop on the couch, read my RSS, start the day’s blog post, do emails, check my daily websites, etc. It’s hard to get to work on time, but I do my best work in the morning; I always have.

The tall bookshelf holds thinking/artsy things: creative books, old journals, my old college writing and books about poetry and linguistics, colored pencils. That's a purple yoga mat, but I never do yoga; I was just doing sit-ups where no one could see me.

This room is definitely less office and more sanctuary. Almost everything that is purely mine in this world is in this room. Ever since high school, I have always needed a place to be alone and think and read and write. I’m social, but I also need time to decompress, which consists of this routine: sit on my bed, stare at my bookshelf, think, maybe write a little in my journal, stare some more, pick up a book and read, sleep a little, then go back out and be social. I need at least one day a month to recharge like this. If I don’t get it, the whole show breaks down.

I still have time in my life to do this, although I rarely read because I blog so much. (These little posts actually can take a lot of time. The Bartlett Farmers' Market post took almost an hour and a half because I had to put up pics on flickr, find links, etc.)

Now that I’m married, I can’t make my bedroom my intellectual haven, but we have an extra room I turned into an office. It has a little couch, a big desk, a bookshelf, 2 short bookshelves, and, unfortunately... a dresser and clothes rack full of clothes. There’s not enough space in our bedroom to store both of our clothes, so mine are in my workspace; that's why you see sunscreen and a razor to the left; this office is also a closet. That’s a bother because the office is prone to clothing explosions, but that’s OK. I’ve said before on Manager Mom’s site (when we had to list random things about ourself) that I like to have all my things in one place where I can see them, because if I don’t, I forget about them.

I do have one bookshelf of photo albums and favorite books in our bedroom, which is fine, because that falls into the “old sentimental stuff” category. That does not overlap with the “stuff to do” category that all the office stuff relates to: blog, pay bills, read cookbooks, ponder life.

Speaking of stuff in categories: my brain is somewhat... busy, so my physical space needs to be organized. Things have to be with related stuff so my brain can keep track. On the 2 short bookshelves pictured to the right, I have a shelf of blog stuff, a shelf of workout/cookbooks, a shelf of teacher books, a shelf of writing books. Those 4 things are very separate for me, and having them on separate shelves reflects the way I think. The bulletin boards above the shelves also reflect categories of my brain; to the left are scraps of colors I like, plus a practical article about how to achieve goals. On the right are pictures of my niece, nephews and husband, along with the kookier drawings my nephews have done. Basically, this office/sanctuary is the physical representation of my brain.

And that’s why I’ll always need my own room. I don’t like my stuff spread out all over the house because I forget it exists; then, what’s the point of having it? I like it all where I can see it and use it. If I don’t use it, it’s in the way, so I throw it away. That’s good management, if you ask me. For so many reasons, it’s best for all the people in my house (me, husband, dog) if all my crap stays in one place. That year we lived in Norwalk, my stuff was in the basement room we never used... and my life was terrible. I couldn’t function without all my writing materials in one place. Not just writing materials, but all the thinking and organizing materials that you now see in this office.

This is the first time I’ve ever had an “office,” but in a way, it’s like all of my old dorm rooms and post-college apartments. Even if you have a common room, all your stuff stays in your room. I often nap on this little couch, so it feels a lot like I have my own “room,” not just office.

I’m actually not satisfied with my workspace right now; even after I cleaned up all the clothes and yoga mat you see in this pic, it still feels cluttered; this place is going to get a major purge sometime this month, but it will take time... most of this stuff I do use, and what I don’t, I’ve kept for years, so I’ll have to think hard about what to get rid of. I like doing that, because it's a way to stop and reevaluate my life. I have to think about what I realistically do nowadays (tutor the SAT) vs. what I'll probably never do again (knit). I have to ask myself, Should I keep all this old choral music? Will I ever sing Bach and Faure again? (Maybe.) Will I ever read the book Procrastination that I've had for years? (Probably not... but I'll probably keep that one anyway, because it just feels right.) Dealing with this room is really a way of dealing with myself, and I adore myself, so it's a lot of fun for me. Click here to read full entry.

Fancy Pancakes of Summer 2008

I made fancy pancakes twice on my Mississippi trip; these pancakes on right make up for the crappy ones I made a few days earlier. Can you identify the six figures in these fancy pancakes? (Answers at end of post. Hint: top left 2 are from a children's book.)

The crappy pancakes were made with my 10 month old niece on my hip and my nephews bickering nearby. Even after I turned on Nickelodeon for them, it was tough to create American flags, trees, horses and airplanes while carrying my niece. I didn't take a picture of the bad pancakes because I was trying to fairly distribute the pancakes while monitoring the baby playing on the kitchen floor. Plus, I was flustered at my poor baby-sitting skills.

Read below for 7 fancy pancake-making tips:

• A tablespoon is the best tool for pancake art.
  
• You have to have confidence to make fancy pancakes. When the batter starts dropping, you have to go for it. Have the image of Clifford the Big Red Dog in your head so you can make the front half, then quickly dip the tablespoon in for batter to make his back half. Save just enough for his tail.
  
• You've also got to keep your designs fresh. Think outdoors, think TV, think holidays, think letters, think shapes, think astronomy.
  
• The batter can neither be too think nor too runny. Skim milk is fine to use.
  
• I prefer a higher-heated griddle, close to 400 degrees. The griddle is essential; its large size keeps the pancakes flowing in copious amounts..
  
• For fun, add food coloring to batter.
  
• Blueberries and chocolate don't work well for the complex shapes, but you could puree blueberries and mix them in.

Answers: Back, L-R: Max and Ruby (bunnies from a book with the same title), Clifford
Front, L-R: Dinosaur head, star, monkey Click here to read full entry.

My Friend's Husband: Not a Scottish Folk Singer

I'm not sure if you have to know my friend's husband to find this funny, but I smiled when I saw on her facebook page that she was "now laughing that the local paper thinks Pete is 'Scottish'. It's the persistantly red beard. Well, and he did perform Scottish songs this weekend." Her husband is British.

Do you find that funny? I do. I think if you know any Brits, you know how they might react to being called Scottish. Are you laughing now?

The line in the local paper says, "Music was provided by Scottish folk singer (and Ashland University professor) Peter Slade and the Mansfield Dulcimer Players." I actually covered my mouth and laughed when I read that. Scottish folk singer!

I love thinking of people having a hard time with Pete's accent. Pete is not exactly what I'd call easy going, so I giggle when I imagine how irritating it must be to have no one be able to properly identify him.

Another case of misidentification: At church, Pete said, "Hi, I'm Peter." (Phonetically: Pitah.) A woman shook his hand and kindly said in a Southern accent, "Nice to meet you, Pizza."

Hahahaahhaa!

I swear, an English accent wreaks havoc in non-cosmopolitan areas. Click here to read full entry.

Pete Seeger: A Great Musician:: Me: Funny

Orig. post date: Jan 08.  You know, I like my alone time, but I'm so funny that it's a real shame no one is around to appreciate all of the cinematic moments that I generate on a regular basis. For example, tonight, as I waiting for a Pete Seeger documentary to start, I was eating Sour Patch Kids while reading Eating Well magazine. Oh, the irony! I can only hope the people behind me noticed and had a chuckle at my expense.

I don't only use my friends as an audience, I use them as inspiration. If a friend had been at the movie with me, I would have had the moral support to shout something silly in the post-film discussion with the director.

When the director said, "We did a limited theater release so we could get it out on DVD, and get it viewed as much as possible before the election," my interest antennae went up. Before the election? Why? Was Pete's antiwar message going to encourage folks to vote for... Obama? I felt my face turn warm, and the urge grew to shout, "Who's Pete voting for?"

Earlier, someone asked the director if Pete is religious, so surely his political affiliation is fair game! If a friend had been with me, I would have yelled my question and gotten some laughs, and perhaps even an answer. I doubt Pete will vote, though, because I don't see which candidate would appeal to such an environmentalist.

My friends inspire me to make bold, confident choices. If I'd had a friend with me at lunch today, I would have had the courage to order a second bowl of soup. But you know, we all have our travails in life, and I guess going to movies and cute French bistros alone is my cross to bear.

FYI Pete is a total badass. Like me, you probably didn't know that. It's too complicated for me to go into, so see the glowing New York Times review for a description of the movie that does Seeger justice. Click here to read full entry.

Live Blogging from Superbowl 42

Orig. post date, Feb 2008!  This might be one of those posts that I find hilarious that no one else does.  I personally find myself hysterical, and I love football, so I think this post is one that can endure.  
Live Blogging is the latest hot thing (I have no idea why). I see the NY Times Sports blogger doing it, and a guy on TMZ does a live blog during Lost. I'm going to try my hand at live blogging- I'm not doing it every minute like my Lost guy, but maybe a couple times an hour between cleaning, eating chips, and drinking rum and Cokes.

5:39 pm. Pre-game show continues with inane interview by Terri Bradshaw with Tom Brady about how cute he is. Whatever. Downstairs, Family Guy is on, and we've broken out the Doritos.

6:01pm. That was a really confusing Declarataion of Independence interlude. I will say, it kept my attention. I was trying to figure out where they were going with the Dec of Ind reenactment. I got hooked when they showed Warrick Dunn in front of a very small house; that's when it occurred to me- hey. These fat, jolly, colonial white guys put this ball in motion, and here's where we are now. The point is to show how far this country has come. I don't think the segment overall made that very clear; overall, it was a collection of rah-rah, bland, formal images of coaches at the Jefferson monument, or Strahan at Ground Zero... at the end they dedicated it to the men and women in the armed forces. OK, fine. A confusing interlude, and in the end, like our country, it has good intentions, comes off a little weird, but we care about each other.

7:10 pm. Good first quarter. Each team only had the ball once, which to me shows how experienced these 2 teams are and how well they've played. Ummmm... not much else to say... I watched three episodes of Friday Night Lights today and I liked it.

7:11- Oh, Giants! Delay of game??? To add insult to injury, the replay just showed Payton giving Eli the "hurry up" hand motion. Let's score, Giants!

7:13. That did not just happen. That interception did not just happen.
OK, the Clydesdales will calm me down.

Husband: "By the way, anyone who would be interested in reading your live blogging would probably be watching the game right now."

Well, this is my first time liveblogging, so it's probably good I have a small audience this time.

7:24, Um, a heart just popped out of that woman's boob on the careerbuilder.com ad.
7:25. Those thriller Geckos for that vitamin water? That might as well have been a GEICO commercial, because now, everyone knows gecko=GEICO.

7:28: Be careful with Brady! I almost screamed that when they just sacked him. (6:23 left in 2nd quarter) I've seen TB interviewed so many times, and seen him on people.com with Gisele, that I feel like Tom's a friend. Be careful with him!

7:34- I just checked out the NY Times guy's liveblogging. BORING!!!  I quote:

2Q, 8:49:The Patriots totally had that fumble, and lost it in the pile. …Manning wants to try a screen pass on third down, and it’s a bust. Manning just throws the ball into the turf. Punt time.

2Q, 9:41:Manning is sacked on first down. He tried to find some room, but ran out of it. …Second and 13, out of the gun. Manning tries an inside handoff, and it’s a fumble. …A scrum for the ball. …Giants keep it.

You call that blogging? That's just little summaries.

Husband: "So, you're liveblogging for other antisocial people who are ignoring other people?"
Me: "You don't understand liveblogging!"
Actually, maybe I don't understand it. 'Cause really, who WOULD read this? I should be in a chat room.

7:37- ELI??????? What the HELL are you doing??? "Steve Smith slipped down" the announcer just said. No way, that was just a crazy pass. Well, you're more dramatic than Tom Brady, I'll give ya that, Eli.

7:58- Liveblogging is boring!

8:35- Tom Petty was good. My half-time pizza was OK. The game... going OK.

8:38- I'm unhappy with the lack of interesting plays in this game. Giants just got a 12 players on the field penalty. I wish I were watching Friday Night Lights.

9:09- Giants on the Pat's 12. Now Bradshaw on the 5. Giants, let's deliver. I'm laughing at the Shadowy figure of Payton Manning in the booth, hiding behind a column.

HOLY SISODOSIDO TOUCHDOWN. Let's not celebrate, game's not over. Peyton in stands looking proud and relieved.

9:12- any commervial with James Carville in it is funny!

9:58- OK Manning just threw a touchdown. 29 seconds to go.
Impressions: I love how Coughlin's face hides nothing.

Earlier, when Brady missed a passed in the endzone, the camera caught a shot of the Patriot mascot banging his own head.

Alford just nailed Brady. 19 seconds left. I can't believe the Giants are almost going to win this

Cory Webster just saved the game by knocking down that nice pass from Brady, to Moss.

OK, 10 more seconds.

10:21- Terri Bradshaw is crazy. He just ordered Mike Strahan to go around the stadium and show the fans the Lombardi trophy. Strahan said, "yeah!" and acted lke he was leaving, but sort of just went to the back of the area of the stage, probably to get away from Terri. Terri doesn't get the idea of personal space. He was right in Coughlin's face, and almost knocking the old ladies out of the way to try to get closer to Eli Manning. "Congratulations, young man!" My GOD, Terri!

Here's why I'm funny: because I knew Plaxico Burress was going to cry in his post-game interview. Well, I guess the reporter did too, bc she chose to interview him, but I'm not a professional football commentator, although, if I were immersed in the field, I'd probably do VERY well.
Click here to read full entry.

Welcome to Mississippi!

Mississippi, Day 1:

Me: “I can’t believe we’re driving with styrofoam food trays on our laps.”  We laugh.
Sis: “Welcome to Mississippi.”

Mostly, MS has not lived up to all my stereotypical images and dramatic expectations. When you hear "Mississippi," you picture shacks by cotton fields. While there is a cotton field at the end of my sister’s road, this northeast corner of MS looks like any other sorta rural place: there are two lane roads, neighborhoods, a downtown, a few trailer parks... kind of like where I grew up in VA.

However, Mississippi does have some quirks.

Yesterday, I had only been in the state for 3 hours, but already my nephew had found a pinecone with a black widow in it, and I had gotten bitten by a tiny, translucent, red creature. I have no idea what it was. (Mini-scorpion?) I know for a fact it wasn’t a fire ant, because my nephew got attacked by a swarm of those last summer, and my bite, while itchy, did not form into a pustule/welt like he had all over his legs and hands.

What fire ants can do was a revelation to me.

The one thing about Mississippi that meets the dramatic expectations- not the accent, not the poverty, not the obesity- is the fire ants. Read my previous post “Fire Ants: Giving Regular Ants a Bad Name” for further info.

Mississippi has other quirks that I’ll try to capture on camera this week. This is my 7th or 8th trip out here over the past 2 years (my niece and nephews are my obsessions, besides my blogs), and I’ve never captured the area on film as much as I want. You can see some of what I have gotten on my flickr gallery.

About the eating while driving thing: my sis was behind the wheel with a cheeseburger and tater tots, I had a grilled chicken and bacon wrap, and the boys had grilled cheese. We had to eat like that because it was past bedtime and the boys hadn’t eaten yet because we had to go straight to T-ball from picking me up at the tiny Tupelo, MS airport. My husband does not let me eat in his car very often, so even though I could have waited to eat my wrap, I was hungry, and getting to eat while driving felt like a luxury.

Day 2: Had the nephew’s birthday! Click here to read full entry.

My Celebrity Crushes (Might Surprise You)

I want to get this out in the open:

Crush 1, on left: Josh Hollowell: actor from my fave TV Show Lost-- He's just pretty, and I like his Southern accent.

Crush 2, on right: Chris Brown: R and B singer-- I like his songs, and he is so cute. Plus, he is from Virginia, like me. I know he's only 19, but don't worry, these are just abstract crushes... sure. See and hear him in full gorgeousness at youtube.

My crush 3: James Hetfield (shaved version): lead singer of Metallica--
I like musicians, OK? He's a talented singer and songwriter. My husband was a very talented trombonist in high school, for real. See, I fell for a musician... yeah.

Oh- I almost forgot my crush on Dale Earnhardt, Jr., NASCAR driver.

Oh shoot, I also forgot Tom Petty; mostly the Tom Petty of 20 years ago. Tom Petty would not be called a traditional sex symbol, and some people might call him skinny and gross. I can only send you to this YouTube video of the making of the Traveling Wilburys album. It's a great movie, and Petty is so young and cool and just as good of a musician as the guys he's playing with: Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, Jeff Lynne, and George Harrison. I adore Petty's voice, especially his speaking voice. I do like musicians...

Click here to read full entry.