So last night hubs and I are turning in, and he's already laying down, with a pillow over his head. The lights are off, and I'm doing my little nightly moisturizing routine, sitting on the edge of the bed. I say to him, "you know, I've noticed a direct proportional relationship between the amount of time I spend moisturizing, and the care I take of myself in general..." and I proceed to tell him everything that I blogged about the other day.
He lifts the pillow off his head and says, "I've noticed a direct proportionate correlation between the amount of time you spend telling me 'interesting' stories when I'm laying in bed trying to go to sleep, with the amount that I love you."
Silly hubby.
One other thing to share. I've become completely obsessed with Rhys Bowen's mystery series, Her Royal Spyness. I've never been a big mystery fan, but this does it for me. It's set in 1932, Depression-Era England. The heroine, Lady Georgianna, is 34th in line for the throne, but her family is completely destitute. Her father, a Duke of some godforsaken place in Scotland, took his own life after he lost everything in the stock market crash, and left her brother peniless with death duties to pay. When the series opens, Georgie is still living in Scotland with her brother and sister-in-law Fig, but they're trying to marry her off to some Prince in Austria, and she doesn't want to be married off, so she high-tails it off to the family's house in London. For the first time in her life she's living without a maid, and she has no money, so she has to figure out how to make it in the big city. Things like learning to light a fire and dress herself are obstacles to be overcome. And then people start dying around her, and she has to solve mysteries and save the day even though she is continually underestimated. I inhale these books, and I'm bummed because I'm on the last one now. I highly recommend it.
In a completely different time period in British history, I'm also obsessed with Bernard Cornwell's The Saxon Stories, about life in England when it was just a collection of individual kingdoms like Wessex and Mercia. The leader of Wessex, Alfred the Great, built the first "English" navy to combat the Viking invaders, and foresaw a time when the entire island would be united in one kingdom. I know next to nothing about this time period, though I want to get some non-fiction about it now that I'm getting into it through these books. When you say Mercia to me, the first thing I think of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Arthur riding since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, where you can't find coconuts, given that it's a temperate zone. But I'm completely into this period now, and that's one of the reasons I love historical fiction.
It's not a question of where he GRIPS it!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Funny Local News: Put-Down Edition
You know those Saturday Night Live skits where the anchor has to tell the reporter how to do his job? I think this is where it came from. These guys both need to learn some professionalism, but it's pretty funny to watch.
I was your boss once! Yeah, and you're not anymore. How'd that happen? SMACKDOWN.
I was your boss once! Yeah, and you're not anymore. How'd that happen? SMACKDOWN.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
On Grooming...
The Music for the day is Dido, because Dido makes me feel girly and 24, and I just really like her.
Given the fact that I'm not pregnant, I am dyeing my hair. I also did a serious eyebrow plucking this morning. You know, the kind you do once every 6 months or so, where it takes half an hour, and your eyebrows get all red and irritated, but dang, do they look good, and you think, "man, why don't I try to keep this up? It looks so good!" But then you don't, and eventually the cycle starts again? That kind of eyebrow plucking.
All of this self-improvement is making me think about grooming in general.
I've never been a fan of grooming. It reminds me of something you do to a dog. I have always been a nail-biter (though since they look really good now from being preggo, I'm going to try to keep them that way). My hair was a complete disaster until I was about 23 and went to a good salon for the first time. And the best thing? When I was 20 I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time. And fainted. And woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. No joke. That eyebrow waxing cost me a $500 deductible.
Nope, grooming and I do not get along as a general rule.
But as I get older, I realize that appearances do matter, as much as I'd like to pretend they don't, and it doesn't matter how firm and confident your handshake is if your nails look like they've been through a shredder and the cuticles are bleeding. So I put a clear topcoat on a couple of times a week, and that keeps me from biting too much. It's a small annoyance, but it's worth it.
I used to dye my hair fun shades - like green, or blue - for fun. Now I've reached the point in my life where I dye it because if I don't, the silver appears, and I'm still not ready to embrace the silver. I used to get it done pretty regularly by professionals, but I spent enough hours sitting in the chair watching what they were doing to be able to figure out how to wield the highlight foils without making it a complete disaster. I have bigger priorities now than dropping $150 on getting new highlights every 8 weeks. Like cruises. And clothes for cruises...
I have realized that there is a direct proportionate relationship between the amount of time I spend on these small annoying grooming tasks, and the care I take of myself in general. For example, on the days when I'm too busy to put lotion on before bed, and wake up with flaky skin, I generally don't drink a lot of water either, and I probably ate fast food. However, on days like this, where I'm plucking and dyeing, I'm also fixing a big salad for dinner, and made myself a fruit smoothie for breakfast. And have had five glasses of water so far today.
It makes me think that the grooming isn't a cause, but it's an effect. If I spend time taking care of myself, making myself a priority, good grooming is the natural outcome. Which means I need to think less about the grooming as a "to do" and more about the big picture of the Care and Feeding of Heather.
Given the fact that I'm not pregnant, I am dyeing my hair. I also did a serious eyebrow plucking this morning. You know, the kind you do once every 6 months or so, where it takes half an hour, and your eyebrows get all red and irritated, but dang, do they look good, and you think, "man, why don't I try to keep this up? It looks so good!" But then you don't, and eventually the cycle starts again? That kind of eyebrow plucking.
All of this self-improvement is making me think about grooming in general.
I've never been a fan of grooming. It reminds me of something you do to a dog. I have always been a nail-biter (though since they look really good now from being preggo, I'm going to try to keep them that way). My hair was a complete disaster until I was about 23 and went to a good salon for the first time. And the best thing? When I was 20 I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time. And fainted. And woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. No joke. That eyebrow waxing cost me a $500 deductible.
Nope, grooming and I do not get along as a general rule.
But as I get older, I realize that appearances do matter, as much as I'd like to pretend they don't, and it doesn't matter how firm and confident your handshake is if your nails look like they've been through a shredder and the cuticles are bleeding. So I put a clear topcoat on a couple of times a week, and that keeps me from biting too much. It's a small annoyance, but it's worth it.
I used to dye my hair fun shades - like green, or blue - for fun. Now I've reached the point in my life where I dye it because if I don't, the silver appears, and I'm still not ready to embrace the silver. I used to get it done pretty regularly by professionals, but I spent enough hours sitting in the chair watching what they were doing to be able to figure out how to wield the highlight foils without making it a complete disaster. I have bigger priorities now than dropping $150 on getting new highlights every 8 weeks. Like cruises. And clothes for cruises...
I have realized that there is a direct proportionate relationship between the amount of time I spend on these small annoying grooming tasks, and the care I take of myself in general. For example, on the days when I'm too busy to put lotion on before bed, and wake up with flaky skin, I generally don't drink a lot of water either, and I probably ate fast food. However, on days like this, where I'm plucking and dyeing, I'm also fixing a big salad for dinner, and made myself a fruit smoothie for breakfast. And have had five glasses of water so far today.
It makes me think that the grooming isn't a cause, but it's an effect. If I spend time taking care of myself, making myself a priority, good grooming is the natural outcome. Which means I need to think less about the grooming as a "to do" and more about the big picture of the Care and Feeding of Heather.
Monday, March 7, 2011
I was just listening to Robbie Williams songs on youtube, and realized that my boyfriend before I met Jonathan kind of looks just like him, especially in the face. He didn't have dark hair, but he totally had the same face and expression. I wonder if that's why I liked him, on a subconscious level? It certainly wasn't his gift-giving ability (as witnessed by the gift card he gave me for our first, and only, Christmas together). And his personality did leave a lot to be desired. But he had a really sweet dog. You can put up with a lot for a man who looks like Robbie Williams and has an adorable black lab.
Commuting Fun
Driving to the office this morning I put in an old, scratched up CD that I made when I lived in NYC. I used to go home to PA most weekends, and one of my favorite things was to drive out into the countryside, blasting my favorite music. I've always been a big fan of driving. And mixing driving and music is just about the best thing in the world. I still remember the first time I drove on my own. Even after I passed my license test, my dad wouldn't let me drive by myself until I had logged something like 2,000 miles with him. We reached that on a daddy-daughter vacation in Canada. We were at a hotel outside Quebec, and he was in the shower, and yelled out asking for me to drive down to the gas station down the road and get him a coffee. I was like, "by myself?" And he confirmed that I was allowed to drive by myself to the gas station, procure coffee, and drive back.
I went out to the silver Colt Vista, and the first thing I did was root around my box of tapes, trying to find the Perfect One for my First Solo Drive. After much deliberation, I finally settled on The Cure's Friday I'm in Love. I drove about 3mph to the gas station, just to make the drive last longer. It was exhilarating! I imagined all the places I could go in the Colt Vista. I could just leave my dad in the hotel room if I had wanted, and I could drive to California! Or Alaska! Or Chile! OMG, the whole world was practically available to me now. What a rush.
When I lived in cities where I didn't drive, I really missed that feeling of freedom. When I lived in London, I used to take cheap weekend flights to Lubeck regularly, just to rent a VW Golf that I would drive around the Autobahn to random places like Bingen (as in, Hildegaard of Bingen - one of the first famous women composers, and a crazy mystic chick from 1000 years ago). Bon Jovi's, "It's My Life" was popular then, and I remember one early Sunday morning blasting the radio in Munich, screaming along, and waking up all the sleeping Germans.
It's ironic, because you're much more free, in many ways, when you don't need to rely on gas, or car insurance, or a license to go places. In Europe you can just hop on trains and go anywhere. But it's really and truly not the same.
So, the point is, I love driving and driving with music. So when I used to come home for the weekends from NY, the first thing I'd do is take a CD out to my dad's car, and go for a nice long drive. I was on a Robbie Williams kick then, and I thought I was ever so poetic, driving along the river, singing about coming undone.
But that brings me back to today. Driving to the office, I randomly grabbed a CD from 2003 that I used to play on those weekends home. The first song was U2's Beautiful Day.
I'm not a huge U2 fan. Went through a phase around 1992 where I really liked them, but then Bono started taking himself really seriously, and one thing I can't stand is people who take themselves too seriously. So I stopped liking them. But I liked this album. I like this song especially because it was used during the introductory montages for football matches in the UK, so you'd see these awesome goals set to this song, and it really worked.
And I was driving down the mountain, singing along, drinking my tea. It's raining up there, and it was super-foggy. I came out of the fog, and saw the entire LA and Inland Empire basin, spread out before me, with light streaming in through the clouds, and the hills all green and lush because of all the rain, and I thought to myself, "Self, it really is a beautiful day. There's stuff that sucks right now, but that doesn't change that it's still a beautiful day."
So with that, I'm taking a lunchtime walk. How's that for a long random story?
 |
| The Colt Vista Partyvan! |
When I lived in cities where I didn't drive, I really missed that feeling of freedom. When I lived in London, I used to take cheap weekend flights to Lubeck regularly, just to rent a VW Golf that I would drive around the Autobahn to random places like Bingen (as in, Hildegaard of Bingen - one of the first famous women composers, and a crazy mystic chick from 1000 years ago). Bon Jovi's, "It's My Life" was popular then, and I remember one early Sunday morning blasting the radio in Munich, screaming along, and waking up all the sleeping Germans.
It's ironic, because you're much more free, in many ways, when you don't need to rely on gas, or car insurance, or a license to go places. In Europe you can just hop on trains and go anywhere. But it's really and truly not the same.
So, the point is, I love driving and driving with music. So when I used to come home for the weekends from NY, the first thing I'd do is take a CD out to my dad's car, and go for a nice long drive. I was on a Robbie Williams kick then, and I thought I was ever so poetic, driving along the river, singing about coming undone.
But that brings me back to today. Driving to the office, I randomly grabbed a CD from 2003 that I used to play on those weekends home. The first song was U2's Beautiful Day.
I'm not a huge U2 fan. Went through a phase around 1992 where I really liked them, but then Bono started taking himself really seriously, and one thing I can't stand is people who take themselves too seriously. So I stopped liking them. But I liked this album. I like this song especially because it was used during the introductory montages for football matches in the UK, so you'd see these awesome goals set to this song, and it really worked.
And I was driving down the mountain, singing along, drinking my tea. It's raining up there, and it was super-foggy. I came out of the fog, and saw the entire LA and Inland Empire basin, spread out before me, with light streaming in through the clouds, and the hills all green and lush because of all the rain, and I thought to myself, "Self, it really is a beautiful day. There's stuff that sucks right now, but that doesn't change that it's still a beautiful day."
So with that, I'm taking a lunchtime walk. How's that for a long random story?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
I officially want to eat my words about an 8-week loss being a piece of cake. The reason it seemed like that to me was because on Wednesday, when I posted, I hadn't passed everything through yet. Thursday I go to the doctor, to my regularly-scheduled appointment, and it turns out there's big pieces of tissue that can't pass through, and I need a D&C quick-like. So what I thought was a routine appointment - where we'd talk about what happened, and how we're going to wait to try again, and other interesting tidbits about my reproductive health, with a nice lunch at the Soup Plantation afterwards - turned into a day at the hospital with anesthesia, throwing up Jell-O, and surgery. Not a fun time.
So I started getting into Serious Healing mode this weekend. Here are some things I recommend doing when you're Trying To Heal.
1) Wake up first thing in the morning and rearrange the kitchen. This may involve pushing heavy pieces of furniture around. If you do that, be sure to put towels under the legs so that your husband doesn't yell at you for scratching up the floor. Listen to NPR as you're doing this. Even though it's fund-drive time, nothing's better than pushing around buffets while listening to Weekend Edition. When your husband comes out and sees the giant mess that you've created, rubs his eyes and says he's going back to bed, let him. He'll just get in the way anyway, what with his need to do things Right. You can wake him when you've cleaned the mess up.
2) Buy a New Toy. Look, I'm not advocating pointless consumerism here. But nothing helps you take your mind off crappy things like reading an instruction manual and playing with a new toy. So if you can afford it, do it. We bought the PlayStation Move attachment for the PS3. It's a camera attachment and controller that turns your PS3 into something like a wii or kinect - it recognizes your motions. The game that was included was a collection of sports, so we played table tennis, frisbee golf, gladiator duels, archery, and beach volleyball for a couple hours. It was tons of fun, and I'm a huge fan. Can't wait to see the fun developers have with this. There's a new Elder Scrolls game coming out in November - it would be beyond awesome if it had some of this technology built in - the swords, bows, and hand-to-hand fighting could all totally utilize it. There's a gun attachment so Black Ops could go nuts with it, too. If that happens, J and I will need to get two tv's and PS3's, because neither one of us will want to give it up.
3) Book a cruise. Growing up in landlocked Pennsylvania, I always thought cruises were for people who were beyond wealthy. Mostly, I guess, because you had to fly somewhere first before you could even get on the boat. But LA is different. There are boats that leave Long Beach and San Pedro every day. And we're going to get on one of those boats in a couple of weeks. They even offer a resident discount, which makes it about the same price as staying in a nice hotel, albeit a floating one where you get fresh sea-air every day, and lots of pools, and free food. I'm totally stoked.
4) Go to your Happy Place. Mine is Target. Even if I don't buy a thing, I'm called like a honing pigeon back to the red carts. Target is like a spa for me. It's quiet, it's peaceful, I can do good thinking there. Or I can just be distracted by the pretty shiny jewelry, and the designer-knockoff bags, and I can daydream about springtime in the garden section. Oh, Target, how I do love you. I love that you have fresh food in most of your stores now. I love that everything in your store is just so...hip. I love all the good memories I have planning new apartments and new lives in your stores.
5) Drink lots of water. It's good for you.
So I started getting into Serious Healing mode this weekend. Here are some things I recommend doing when you're Trying To Heal.
1) Wake up first thing in the morning and rearrange the kitchen. This may involve pushing heavy pieces of furniture around. If you do that, be sure to put towels under the legs so that your husband doesn't yell at you for scratching up the floor. Listen to NPR as you're doing this. Even though it's fund-drive time, nothing's better than pushing around buffets while listening to Weekend Edition. When your husband comes out and sees the giant mess that you've created, rubs his eyes and says he's going back to bed, let him. He'll just get in the way anyway, what with his need to do things Right. You can wake him when you've cleaned the mess up.
2) Buy a New Toy. Look, I'm not advocating pointless consumerism here. But nothing helps you take your mind off crappy things like reading an instruction manual and playing with a new toy. So if you can afford it, do it. We bought the PlayStation Move attachment for the PS3. It's a camera attachment and controller that turns your PS3 into something like a wii or kinect - it recognizes your motions. The game that was included was a collection of sports, so we played table tennis, frisbee golf, gladiator duels, archery, and beach volleyball for a couple hours. It was tons of fun, and I'm a huge fan. Can't wait to see the fun developers have with this. There's a new Elder Scrolls game coming out in November - it would be beyond awesome if it had some of this technology built in - the swords, bows, and hand-to-hand fighting could all totally utilize it. There's a gun attachment so Black Ops could go nuts with it, too. If that happens, J and I will need to get two tv's and PS3's, because neither one of us will want to give it up.
3) Book a cruise. Growing up in landlocked Pennsylvania, I always thought cruises were for people who were beyond wealthy. Mostly, I guess, because you had to fly somewhere first before you could even get on the boat. But LA is different. There are boats that leave Long Beach and San Pedro every day. And we're going to get on one of those boats in a couple of weeks. They even offer a resident discount, which makes it about the same price as staying in a nice hotel, albeit a floating one where you get fresh sea-air every day, and lots of pools, and free food. I'm totally stoked.
4) Go to your Happy Place. Mine is Target. Even if I don't buy a thing, I'm called like a honing pigeon back to the red carts. Target is like a spa for me. It's quiet, it's peaceful, I can do good thinking there. Or I can just be distracted by the pretty shiny jewelry, and the designer-knockoff bags, and I can daydream about springtime in the garden section. Oh, Target, how I do love you. I love that you have fresh food in most of your stores now. I love that everything in your store is just so...hip. I love all the good memories I have planning new apartments and new lives in your stores.
5) Drink lots of water. It's good for you.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
I know you all think I disappeared...
...but I didn't. I'd like to, though. I had another miscarriage. I was only 8 weeks, so it's not nearly as traumatic as it was with Baby Teysko - I don't mean to minimize 8 week losses for anyone reading this who has had one...it well and truly sucked - but after you had an emergency ride to the hospital with clots the size of grapefruits falling out of you, and then go through 8 hours of active labor under bright lights with IV's sticking in you, and sign death certificates and deal with mortuaries and your milk coming in...well, a loss at home sitting on the toilet involving nothing more than lots of pads and extra towels to lay on is kind of Club Med in comparison. I didn't even go to the ER. I talked to the labor & delivery nurse and doctor, and they both agreed that it would be safe for me to be at home. I mean, women have been losing babies in the comfort of their own home for millions of years, right? I'm so sick of paying ER bills for dead babies.
So, yeah. That's what's going on. I will write more about this later. Right now I'm just trying to keep my mind off it, playing lots of Oblivion, hugging on to my hubby something fierce, and thinking about spending the springtime getting healthy and healing, and taking more time off before we try again. Eight months ago I didn't even know I was pregnant the first time - I was just finding out. In 8 months I found out I was pregnant, carried Baby T to 21 weeks, lost him, got pregnant again, carried to 8 weeks, and lost that baby. It's freaking exhausting, and I need a break. I need to spend the springtime walking by the lake, and reading books, and eating well, and taking a vacation, and writing...and not be obsessed with temping and charting and all the other high-maintenance trying-to-conceive stuff I was doing.
The one thing I'm taking heart from is that I got pregnant again so soon after losing Baby T. It was only three cycles. Which shows me that I don't have to worry about my fertility too much right now, and we do truly still have time to heal and get strong before going down this path again.
If anyone wants to send good thoughts, I'll take 'em. If you're the praying kind, I'll take those, too.
So, yeah. That's what's going on. I will write more about this later. Right now I'm just trying to keep my mind off it, playing lots of Oblivion, hugging on to my hubby something fierce, and thinking about spending the springtime getting healthy and healing, and taking more time off before we try again. Eight months ago I didn't even know I was pregnant the first time - I was just finding out. In 8 months I found out I was pregnant, carried Baby T to 21 weeks, lost him, got pregnant again, carried to 8 weeks, and lost that baby. It's freaking exhausting, and I need a break. I need to spend the springtime walking by the lake, and reading books, and eating well, and taking a vacation, and writing...and not be obsessed with temping and charting and all the other high-maintenance trying-to-conceive stuff I was doing.
The one thing I'm taking heart from is that I got pregnant again so soon after losing Baby T. It was only three cycles. Which shows me that I don't have to worry about my fertility too much right now, and we do truly still have time to heal and get strong before going down this path again.
If anyone wants to send good thoughts, I'll take 'em. If you're the praying kind, I'll take those, too.
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