Category Archives: Regular-type talk

Yes I Can, Yes I Can!

Let’s start with this brilliant musical theatre duet:

I admit that I am pretty easily manipulated if you frame something in terms of my ego, for example, our household’s longstanding Quilt Challenge.  My husband has very openly stated that he would love it if I would make a quilt, but he knows that I couldn’t do it.  Despite this pathetically obvious attempt to use reverse psychology (in reality, my husband believes that I can do anything), I have totally fallen for it and I know damn well that someday I will make a quilt!  My excuse now is that I don’t really have a sewing room or even a sewing spot and our cats would sleep on it and it’s actually really expensive to get started and I also don’t own a sewing machine.

But god damn it, I’m going to sew a quilt one day and make M Fox eat it.

The problem with pregnancy Dos and Don’ts is that it’s not just about your ego; your choices affect the life (or lives, in my case) of a blissfully ignorant little creature who is happily jabbing you in the cervix because it’s so excited that its limbs move.  Awww.

There are the undebatable Don’ts — like you can’t chug a Long Island Iced Tea, shoot up some heroin, and then hop on Space Mountain.

To be fair, you probably shouldn’t do that when you’re not pregnant, but ESPECIALLY when you’re pregnant, such behavior is frowned upon.

The dietary Dos and Don’ts are mostly a matter of common sense and personal preference.  Apparently you’re not supposed to eat cantaloupe, fro-yo, or turkey sandwiches.  I say (and, remember, I am a doctor*) use your best judgment.  If you want to live off of goldfish and the occasional grape (after drudging it in vinegar to get off the poison), then hey, go ahead.  If, like a certain Classy Dame, you want to drink diet soda and gorge yourself on sushi, then hey, go ahead.  Pregnancy safety is a matter of statistics and paying attention to statistics is, oddly enough, totally subjective.  *No I’m not

But that’s a conversation that a lot of people have already talked themselves hoarse over.

The thing that I find most oppressive about pregnancy is the conversation that goes beyond eating, drinking, and going to Disneyland or Space Camp — it falls into either the pitying with concern (“How are you going to be able to do that?”) or the pitying with certainty (“You realize that you won’t be able to do that ever again”) category.

 

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A few pregnancy vignettes

A series of thoughts during weeks 7-10. Warning: May contain TMI

 

Well it finally happened.

I ripped a hole in the ass of my pajama pants by doing LITERALLY NOTHING.  And don’t you dare come after me with that misuse of “literally” crap or I will literally kill you.  By which I mean I will end your life, which is the literal meaning of “kill you.”

~~

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Week 7

Hello, dear readers.  So it turns out that I’m knocked up.  Surprise!  I’m entering my second trimester now.  The following was written during the delirious 7th week of my pregnancy, which easily fit into the Top Five Worst Weeks of My Life.  I swear I’m not only going to write about being pregnant from here on out, but I had a bunch of venting bottled up over the past few months and managed to write a little when I wasn’t vomiting.

Oh, yeah, also, some of this might contain TMI and some nonsensical ranting ;)

 

All I want to do is sleep, poop, and complain.

Why yes, I am in my first trimester, however did you know?

There are a lot of unmagical things about getting pregnant, but one of the most unmagical things is that first trimester where you have ALL THE FEELS, but you can’t talk to any damn person except for the man who got you into this mess in the first place.

Okay, that’s not fair to M Fox. Half of this situation is my fault.  Something about being simultaneously nauseated and starving all the time sorta saps my magnanimity.

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One Woman Breastfeeding Band

This is a twins breastfeeding pillow.

One Man band

I think it needs a few adjustments.

 

Maybe tap shows, too.

Maybe tap shoes, too.

If I stood on a street corner with a tin can while feeding two babies at once and playing all these instruments, I could save up for the babies’ college funds in no time!

What’s sad is that I have been through so many indignities in this first trimester that the above scenario doesn’t even seem that embarrassing.

McConnelling Favorites

Jon Stewart is basically this generation’s older, more Jewish Shirley Temple — he keeps America’s spirits high at times of confusion, frustration, and stupid news anchors.  He just recently gifted the internet, and thus the world, with something very special.  McConnelling.  Some old senator made a wordless campaign video with some crappy music over it and Stewart invited everyone to play the game of redubbing the video with various tunes.

It will time suck your morning, but it will be glorious.

Here are a few of my favorites – I can only embed YouTube videos, apparently, so you’ll have to go to the links for most of these.  Feel free to add your own!

http://www.youdubber.com/index.php?video=nrdTX8m5G98&video_start=0&audio=O5z_l6NE3qs&audio_start=0

http://www.youdubber.com/index.php?video=nrdTX8m5G98&video_start=0&audio=rjtrUuyAFjA&audio_start=0

http://www.youdubber.com/index.php?video=nrdTX8m5G98&video_start=0&audio=N9qYF9DZPdw&audio_start=3

And *kisses fingertips*

http://www.youdubber.com/index.php?video=nrdTX8m5G98&video_start=0&audio=lQlIhraqL7o&audio_start=10

If Lynn Shepherd Cares About Writing, She Should Actually Read Books

I wanted to be an actress, but my parents said that I should go to college and get a degree in something useful.  So I majored in Creative Writing (take THAT!).  My favorite authors are Terry Pratchett and Tamora Pierce, but Brian Jacques’s Redwall series initially sparked my passion to write.  Needless to say, I was never interested in writing The Great American Novel.  I wanted to write about knights and magic and castles and fantasy, specifically YA (Young Adult) fantasy because that is what inspired me to become a writer.  I cannot TELL YOU the struggle I had in college because of this.  Teachers and students alike sneered at my “genre writing.”  It took me years to recover from the ego-beating I received in university writing classes from closed-minded assholes who claimed that writing about girls with swords wasn’t worthy of my page or their eyes.

I have since emerged from the Despairing Self-Pity Cave a fearless defender of YA.  Sherman Alexie, author of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, wrote this brilliant article that sums up my feelings exactly about the importance of young adult fiction and the ignorance surrounding what it should be and who should write it.

This morning, I stumbled across this totally absurd piece entitled “If JK Rowling Cares About Writing, She Should Stop Doing It.”  I needed a rant, so I came here.

Lynn Shepherd, some writer who has not tasted the same success as JK Rowling, has decided that in order for the unknown authors of the world to get a fair shake, Rowling should step down from her tyrannical throne and let others have a chance, for Christ’s sake.  I mean, it was all well and good when Rowling was “Pottering about,” but now she’s strangling the adult book market with her crappy novels and no one else can even get a word in edgewise, so maybe she should just keep to writing for babies so that other authors can be published.

The premise alone is ridiculous, since that’s not actually how publishing works, but this line

This Line

THIS LINE

is what makes my head explode:

“I did think it a shame that adults were reading [the Harry Potter books], mainly because there’s so many other books out there that are surely more stimulating for grown-up minds.”

So she has the audacity to judge readers for enjoying something that she has never read because she claims to be some sort of arbiter of what adults should and shouldn’t read.

I thought Harry Potter was uncool before it was cool

I thought Harry Potter was uncool before it was cool

It’s not breaking news that another snooty literary type thinks that any work labeled “children’s” or “young adult” is not worthy of adult consumption.  It’s just disappointing and tiresome.  Who the hell is anyone to say that it’s wrong for an adult to identify with Hermione or Alanna or Katniss any less than Elizabeth Bennett or Rosasharn or Lady MacBeth?

And if you say YA novels don’t use sophisticated prose, then I raise you the austerity of Hemingway as an example of powerful literature sans the fancy-pants and then hold up the maddening complexity of Joyce, who used all sorts of fancy literary devices and yet managed to make you want to kill yourself after having to untangle his sentences.

But children’s books are void of complex ideas, you say? The Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss.

Good books transcend genre.  Period.

But back to Shepherd, cus it gets better.

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My life through painting or cleaning the project room

When I was a freshman in high school, I went to a private school.  A lot went to hell after that year and I ended up transferring to a public school as a junior, but before then, it was a pretty ideal place for me to be.  The classes were small, the teachers had time to get to know you, it was a community more than a school. You grew up with your classmates. I had been with my group since I was in the 5th grade.  Some of my classmates had known each other for even longer.  To this day, I have pangs of regret over leaving, even though there was no other way.

I never considered myself an artist, my childhood drawings were all pretty much of the Stick Figure Girl Walking a Dog or Riding a Horse variety.  Art class was hanging out with my girlfriends and chattering while we made something with our hands — it was peaceful.  I realize that later it would morph into hanging out with my girlfriends and cooking.  But I really enjoyed art.  A nice respite from class, but not necessarily where my talents lay.

So one day, the incredible woman who ran the art program gave us a project. She assigned each of us a square from Picasso’s Guernica to paint.  When we were all finished, she put the pieces together into this very cool patchwork painting.  I know a photo of it exists somewhere, but I couldn’t find it.  I painted the foot in the bottom right hand corner.  It was my first time using oil paint and I fell in love.  It also freed me up from thinking that I didn’t have to be the best or even very good to enjoy something — a novel idea for a 15-year-old.

I love how sneery Scarlett is in this

A visiting artist then came to the school and he assigned us a project where we would do a pencil drawing of an image and then later an oil painting of the same image.  I was in my second year or so of obsessing over Gone with the Wind (over a decade now, baby!) so obviously I chose the movie poster.  

Then I built a frame, stretched and jessoed my own canvas, and painted it.

I’ve been circling my love affair with oil painting ever since. I’ve never taken any official classes or anything, it’s been something that I just like to dabble in every once and awhile.  Something peaceful to do with my hands.

20140107_161420
Those flames must be REALLY hot, cus Rhett has a serious tan.

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