I have managed to keep a human baby alive for two whole weeks now. This is no small feat as I often lose interest in projects very quickly (see also: violins, telescopes, knitting, writing the great American novel.) I suppose it helps when the project literally demands your attention every two hours at least and is so cute and cuddly that you don't want to let the project out of your sight.
Sure I'm tired, but it's worth it. Anyway I get 8 hours of sleep, eventually, through the day.
A few gripes:
Breast Pumps: Obviously designed by a man. I sit on the bed pumping and watching the dairy cows in our backyard and feel their plight. The cows and I, we are sisters.
Frequency of Diaper Changes:
The baby pees, you want him to feel comfortable so you change him. He then feels comfortable enough to poop. So you change him again. Then he pees while you're changing him. It's insane.
Hormones: While I was still in the hospital, that movie "Overboard" came on TV. I watched it up until the part where Goldie Hawn remembers who she is, I had to turn it off because I was crying too hard.
But really, everything else is pure joy. So sorry, fellow panda mothers, I shall not be joining your ranks.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Modesty
I knew that it was very common to poop on the delivery table, I was prepared for that. And by "prepared for that" I mean I made sure that I did my business before I was too far gone into labor to not. I watched my friend give birth many years ago and the thing I remember most about the delivery wasn't the beautiful miracle, but instead my friend calling out "ooohh I'm pooping!" and several large turds coming out.
When it came down to it, they told me "push like you're having a big bowel movement". I did, but I still held back a little, much to the frustration of my doctor and nurses.
A few days ago H-man and I were reminiscing on the labor, and I said to him "you know when they told me to basically poop on the table? Well, I didn't push all the way, not because I didn't want to poop in front of everyone. I was more afraid that I would let out a huge fart, and then I would have had to die."
And that's the truth. Women are silly.
When it came down to it, they told me "push like you're having a big bowel movement". I did, but I still held back a little, much to the frustration of my doctor and nurses.
A few days ago H-man and I were reminiscing on the labor, and I said to him "you know when they told me to basically poop on the table? Well, I didn't push all the way, not because I didn't want to poop in front of everyone. I was more afraid that I would let out a huge fart, and then I would have had to die."
And that's the truth. Women are silly.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday part 2
Looking back on Thursday December 3rd now, it's a little difficult to remember every detail and even more exhausting trying to describe everything. We went to the hospital that morning, fully not expecting to leave with a baby. In fact, I tell H-man now that even when I was pregnant, the concept of having a child was totally lost on me.
We arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. and five hours later I was begging for drugs. I have never felt so much pain in my life. I had a rock dropped on my head when I was 10 years old, but I barely felt that. The pain can't really be described. As I was laying there, being hooked up to an iv drip that would soon bring sweet relief, I concentrated on the sensation, attempting to describe to myself what it was like. The closest I think I can come to explaining what the pain was is that it felt as if I was being squeezed around my belly by a large snake and that its fangs were pumping hot acid into my lower back.
The drugs brought fleeting relief, and and hour later, gripping the sides of the bed, voice shaking and tears running down my face I whispered the fatal word I swore I would never utter: "epidural". You see, a natural birth was extremely important to me. In child birthing class we did an exercise where we layed out in flashcards what would be the most important aspects of childbirth, for example: natural tear vs. being cut, cesarean vs. vaginal delivery. The top of my list included no pain medication and for H-man to be with me.
I got the epidural, and I'm glad I did. My pain level was near the top of the scale, a 10, but quickly dropped to a blessed, sweet 0. As the anesthesiologist placed the needle in my spine, my water broke and labor really swung into full gear. Thank God for pain management. I may have asked the anesthesiologist to father my next child. I love that man, he does wonderful things.
Hours later, H-man ran home to get a few things, that very moment a doctor I had never met came in, shook my hand hello, looked at my cervix and broke out the stirrups and three nurses in green wheeled in a "delivery table". As the nurses bickered among themselves on the lay out of the tools on the table, I plead with the doctor to please wait for H-man to come back, "please he will be right back, please!"
"push!" the doctor responded. I began to cry, "no, no, I can't yet, please can we wait!?"
"Push!" he replied, but I wouldn't. Nothing was coming out of me without my husband in the room, goddammit.
Moments later my beautiful, wonderful husband came back, looking quite stricken that I had my feet up in the stirrups and this doctor was telling me to push. I took his hand and then I pushed.
Pushing out our son is the most incredible thing I've ever done. Looking at it now, and reflection of that day I still can't picture myself doing these things but after an hour of pushing, and pooping in front of my husband, a doctor I had just met, and three nurses who I will never remember, our baby was born.
I often read about women giving birth and feeling this rush of love and light flow over them as they see their baby for the first time. In all honesty I felt I would be more like a panda bear that rejects their cub. I was wrong. When they put our son on my chest, all gooey and gross, that wave of warmth and love washed over me. I touched his tiny, slimy body with my fingers and stared at his swirls of dark hair. Incredible.
Our baby was born at 8:46 pm on Decemeber 3rd 2009. Four full weeks early, 5lbs 11 oz and 18 1/4 inches long.
We arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. and five hours later I was begging for drugs. I have never felt so much pain in my life. I had a rock dropped on my head when I was 10 years old, but I barely felt that. The pain can't really be described. As I was laying there, being hooked up to an iv drip that would soon bring sweet relief, I concentrated on the sensation, attempting to describe to myself what it was like. The closest I think I can come to explaining what the pain was is that it felt as if I was being squeezed around my belly by a large snake and that its fangs were pumping hot acid into my lower back.
The drugs brought fleeting relief, and and hour later, gripping the sides of the bed, voice shaking and tears running down my face I whispered the fatal word I swore I would never utter: "epidural". You see, a natural birth was extremely important to me. In child birthing class we did an exercise where we layed out in flashcards what would be the most important aspects of childbirth, for example: natural tear vs. being cut, cesarean vs. vaginal delivery. The top of my list included no pain medication and for H-man to be with me.
I got the epidural, and I'm glad I did. My pain level was near the top of the scale, a 10, but quickly dropped to a blessed, sweet 0. As the anesthesiologist placed the needle in my spine, my water broke and labor really swung into full gear. Thank God for pain management. I may have asked the anesthesiologist to father my next child. I love that man, he does wonderful things.
Hours later, H-man ran home to get a few things, that very moment a doctor I had never met came in, shook my hand hello, looked at my cervix and broke out the stirrups and three nurses in green wheeled in a "delivery table". As the nurses bickered among themselves on the lay out of the tools on the table, I plead with the doctor to please wait for H-man to come back, "please he will be right back, please!"
"push!" the doctor responded. I began to cry, "no, no, I can't yet, please can we wait!?"
"Push!" he replied, but I wouldn't. Nothing was coming out of me without my husband in the room, goddammit.
Moments later my beautiful, wonderful husband came back, looking quite stricken that I had my feet up in the stirrups and this doctor was telling me to push. I took his hand and then I pushed.
Pushing out our son is the most incredible thing I've ever done. Looking at it now, and reflection of that day I still can't picture myself doing these things but after an hour of pushing, and pooping in front of my husband, a doctor I had just met, and three nurses who I will never remember, our baby was born.
I often read about women giving birth and feeling this rush of love and light flow over them as they see their baby for the first time. In all honesty I felt I would be more like a panda bear that rejects their cub. I was wrong. When they put our son on my chest, all gooey and gross, that wave of warmth and love washed over me. I touched his tiny, slimy body with my fingers and stared at his swirls of dark hair. Incredible.
Our baby was born at 8:46 pm on Decemeber 3rd 2009. Four full weeks early, 5lbs 11 oz and 18 1/4 inches long.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Thursday part 1
Thursday December 3rd.
I wake up through the night to go pee, not unusual for the past few months The backache is still there and I curse myself for not having any pain medication in the house that isn't codeine or aspirin. I decide I'll just go back to bed and hope that the pain goes away.
At 6a.m I wake up from the pain in my lower back that is getting stronger and fading, then getting stronger and fading. I think about my day ahead: take H-man to work at 7:30, go to my diabetes meeting at 9:00, then an appointment with my baby doctor at 11:30. I consider canceling the diabetes meeting, because I'm just too damn achy and tired. I'd rather sleep than do anything. After all, I have this horrible backache that keeps coming and going and the doctor told me to take it easy if I don't want a baby this week...... oh. I'm in labor.
I roll over to H-man, sleeping blissfully and I whisper oh so gently....
"I think I'm having contractions, I think I'm in labor"
"HUH! WHAT! HUH!?"
" I can still take you to work, but I think I'm going to stay home from the doctors this morning, unless you think I should go to the hospital now, before the labor gets to strong for them to stop it..."
"Let's go"
I change quickly and grab a few things that I think I would need for the hospital: a hairband, the cell phone and charger and the battery charger for the camera. After all, I want to be prepared if I do have the baby, but I really think that instead they'll stop the labor ( I'm only at 36 weeks) and we'll be going home very soon.
We get to the hospital at 7 am, we check in and head upstairs to the birthing center, the same place I've been having the non-stress tests performed for the past week or so. I greet Judith, the older, brusquer nurse as she straps me to the table and calls Dr. Young to come for the "vag exam"
20 minutes later Dr. Young wheels in an ultrasound machine and a medical student, we watch my baby on the screen for several minutes, his tiny fingers resting on his belly and his head pushing against my cervix. "you're in -1 station, and 4 cms dialted, and 100% effaced" he informs us.
"Am I going to have this baby today?"
"yes, most likely" he responds
H-man and I look at each other, "call everyone" I tell him
I wake up through the night to go pee, not unusual for the past few months The backache is still there and I curse myself for not having any pain medication in the house that isn't codeine or aspirin. I decide I'll just go back to bed and hope that the pain goes away.
At 6a.m I wake up from the pain in my lower back that is getting stronger and fading, then getting stronger and fading. I think about my day ahead: take H-man to work at 7:30, go to my diabetes meeting at 9:00, then an appointment with my baby doctor at 11:30. I consider canceling the diabetes meeting, because I'm just too damn achy and tired. I'd rather sleep than do anything. After all, I have this horrible backache that keeps coming and going and the doctor told me to take it easy if I don't want a baby this week...... oh. I'm in labor.
I roll over to H-man, sleeping blissfully and I whisper oh so gently....
"I think I'm having contractions, I think I'm in labor"
"HUH! WHAT! HUH!?"
" I can still take you to work, but I think I'm going to stay home from the doctors this morning, unless you think I should go to the hospital now, before the labor gets to strong for them to stop it..."
"Let's go"
I change quickly and grab a few things that I think I would need for the hospital: a hairband, the cell phone and charger and the battery charger for the camera. After all, I want to be prepared if I do have the baby, but I really think that instead they'll stop the labor ( I'm only at 36 weeks) and we'll be going home very soon.
We get to the hospital at 7 am, we check in and head upstairs to the birthing center, the same place I've been having the non-stress tests performed for the past week or so. I greet Judith, the older, brusquer nurse as she straps me to the table and calls Dr. Young to come for the "vag exam"
20 minutes later Dr. Young wheels in an ultrasound machine and a medical student, we watch my baby on the screen for several minutes, his tiny fingers resting on his belly and his head pushing against my cervix. "you're in -1 station, and 4 cms dialted, and 100% effaced" he informs us.
"Am I going to have this baby today?"
"yes, most likely" he responds
H-man and I look at each other, "call everyone" I tell him
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Wednesday
Wednesday Dec. 2
I have an appointment with the Ob/Gyn this morning, another non-stress test, so I drop H-man off at work and take the car over to the hospital. I get there on time and expect to be released. I don't bother to bring food or my blood sugar meter, after all, it's only a 20 minute test.
3 hours later, I'm still at the hospital and hooked up to the machine that reads my baby's heart rate and movements. This machine also shows my contractions as a series of arcs on an otherwise straight line. These arcs are every 2 to 3 minutes apart, but I don't feel them, all I can feel is the ache in my back from having to lay on one side for 3 hours.
The nurse tells me that my doctor is coming to do a "vag examine", Dr. Young comes in, does his thing and tells me that I am dilated 2-3 cms, 50% effaced, and perhaps, this baby will be coming sooner rather than later.
"yeah, yeah" I think, "I was having these contractions on Sunday as well and anyway, he's not due for another 4 weeks."
I go home and sleep until it's time to pick up the husband from work. We have Swingles for dinner, I take a bath and go to bed. My back still achy.
I have an appointment with the Ob/Gyn this morning, another non-stress test, so I drop H-man off at work and take the car over to the hospital. I get there on time and expect to be released. I don't bother to bring food or my blood sugar meter, after all, it's only a 20 minute test.
3 hours later, I'm still at the hospital and hooked up to the machine that reads my baby's heart rate and movements. This machine also shows my contractions as a series of arcs on an otherwise straight line. These arcs are every 2 to 3 minutes apart, but I don't feel them, all I can feel is the ache in my back from having to lay on one side for 3 hours.
The nurse tells me that my doctor is coming to do a "vag examine", Dr. Young comes in, does his thing and tells me that I am dilated 2-3 cms, 50% effaced, and perhaps, this baby will be coming sooner rather than later.
"yeah, yeah" I think, "I was having these contractions on Sunday as well and anyway, he's not due for another 4 weeks."
I go home and sleep until it's time to pick up the husband from work. We have Swingles for dinner, I take a bath and go to bed. My back still achy.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Movie Star Crush
When I was a little girl I was in love with Groucho Marx.
Then I was in love with Tim Roth's character of Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs.
I was a strange little girl.
My tastes have leaned towards the more normal in the past decade or so. Usually tall, angular, pale boys such as Cillian Murphy and Ryan Gosling, as well as tall angular slender men named Husbandman.
But there's this one guy I can't get out of my head.
Ever since I saw "In the Cut", every time I see Mark Ruffalo I get all warm and fuzzy all over. Ladies, do yourself a favor. Rent "In the Cut".
Then I was in love with Tim Roth's character of Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs.
I was a strange little girl.
My tastes have leaned towards the more normal in the past decade or so. Usually tall, angular, pale boys such as Cillian Murphy and Ryan Gosling, as well as tall angular slender men named Husbandman.
But there's this one guy I can't get out of my head.
Ever since I saw "In the Cut", every time I see Mark Ruffalo I get all warm and fuzzy all over. Ladies, do yourself a favor. Rent "In the Cut".
Monday, November 23, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Ahhh, Love
I've been bugging the husband to shave for ohhh... about three weeks now. Jeremiah Johnson has nothing on him. We watched a video about a beard and mustache competition, I suggested he enter. We've gone to the supermarket and a woman approached him about his spectacular beard. It's really, really ridiculous.
Yesterday I had "Ferngully: The Last Rainforest" on as I cleaned up around the house. I noticed that all the "bad guys" had facial hair. In bed last night I commented on this.
Me: "You know in Ferngully, all the bad guys had facial hair, that means you would be a bad guy in a cartoon"
H: "Well, I guess that means you would be a bad guy too"
touche.
Yesterday I had "Ferngully: The Last Rainforest" on as I cleaned up around the house. I noticed that all the "bad guys" had facial hair. In bed last night I commented on this.
Me: "You know in Ferngully, all the bad guys had facial hair, that means you would be a bad guy in a cartoon"
H: "Well, I guess that means you would be a bad guy too"
touche.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
From Perfectly Healthy and Happy, to not.
I'm frustrated with my current medical situation. How can it be that I am (nearly) perfectly healthy and fine when I leave Humboldt, then come down here and suddenly have gestational diabetes and am too heavy and have to count the times my baby moves through out the day and come in if he doesn't move a certain amount a day (because, apparently that means he's dead) and have to get my blood drawn and am anemic and all sorts of other crap that just makes me want to scream?
This sucks. Get born soon, Baby.Well, not too soon.
Also, try telling a pregnant woman she can't have ice cream. I dare you.
I nearly broke down today at the thought of a blueberry muffin.
This sucks. Get born soon, Baby.Well, not too soon.
Also, try telling a pregnant woman she can't have ice cream. I dare you.
I nearly broke down today at the thought of a blueberry muffin.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Words of, apparent, advice
I'm now 8 months pregnant. Because of this I often get unsolicited advice from people I know very little or not at all. I have learned several things from women in the past 8 months. Let me share:
The only negative side of being 8 months pregnant? Every time I read about giving birth and having a baby I have a mild panic attack, not at the thought of labor, but at the thought of being responsible for a human life besides my own. Wish me luck.
- Older women always say "Ask for your pain medication early, and ask for a lot of it.
- Younger women say "It's really not that bad, don't worry"
- I'm obviously having a boy because I'm "so wide"
- I'm obviously having a girl because I crave vegetables and fruit
- If I drink raspberry leaf tea I will be thrown into early contractions
- If I drink raspberry leaf tea I will tone my uterus and have an easy labor when I need to
- I will be the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my life for the last three months
- I need to exercise and gain very little weight
- I need to relax more as this will be the last time I will get a good night's sleep
- I need to gain more weight
- I need to lose weight.
- Holding ice in my bare hands for 60 seconds is the same feeling as having a contraction
- My colostrum should have come in by now
- My colostrum won't come until I give birth
- The position my baby is in now is the position he will be born in
- The position my baby is in now means nothing.
The only negative side of being 8 months pregnant? Every time I read about giving birth and having a baby I have a mild panic attack, not at the thought of labor, but at the thought of being responsible for a human life besides my own. Wish me luck.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Stellar Communication Skills
In which H and I discuss a variety of topics.
Politics
H: Gavin Newsom dropped out of the gubernatorial race.
M: Hmm, why? I would have voted for him, he's hot, I mean I agree with his political views.
H: Something about not having enough time as mayor and family man.
30 seconds later...
M: So why did he drop out?
Household affairs:
M: I smeared some borax, salt and vinegar on that stain in the bedroom carpet.
H: okay, does it work?
M: I don't know, we'll find out later
30 seconds later H walks into the bedroom
H: Gah! What is this white crap all over the floor?
Culinary Skills:
H: Your dough looks, uh, a little gooey.
M: Shut up! Go away!
H: What does the recipe say?
M: It says leave me alone and shut up!
Time Management:
H: Hi Babe, what did you do today?
M: I did nothing, I played World of Warcraft for 8 hours straight.
H: Yeah, I thought the house looked pretty nice.
Child Rearing:
M: I love you, H-man, you're the best thing to ever happen to me and I adore everything about you. I'm so lucky that you married me.
H: What?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Cat, again
Stella has been kept indoors since the move. We tell people it's because we don't want her to get eaten by the coyotes and raptors(birds, not dinosaurs, well, maybe dinosaurs too) in the back yard or get run over but the real reason is: if she doesn't know what's outside, she won't miss it and therefore won't yowl at the break of dawn to be let out to experience it.
She's doing well so far, partly because we ply her with TikiCat cat food and lots of love. But she may be going a little crazy. Case in point:
She's doing well so far, partly because we ply her with TikiCat cat food and lots of love. But she may be going a little crazy. Case in point:
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Huge Disaster of an Epic Scale
The fish tank stunk. I had been putting off cleaning it for about a week, but finally the pump had stopped working and I needed to clean it out. If not for me, for Jemaine the goldfish.
I thought I could do it myself, sliding the full tank across the counter top, over the stove to the sink where I could more easily drain the gross, fishy, water. Disaster struck when I got the tank to the stove. As I slid it across the burners, I let it rest for a moment in order to gather enough strength for the next leg of the trip across the counter tip. I looked up at H-man who was on the computer, thinking briefly of how pregnant women should not lift things over 50 lbs and wondering if I should call H-man over to help me out. That's when it happened.
The room filled with a "PSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" sound which I immediately took to be the burner on the stove snapping off and gas pouring out into the house at an alarming rate. H-man turned to me at that instant with a look that could only be described as "WTF?" I was wrong about the gas, at that moment the water hit my feet, a lot of water. 10 gallons of water. I had busted the bottom of the tank and water was flowing out fast, onto the stove, onto the kitchen floor and down the hallway.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" I said.
"Get Jemaine! Get Jemaine!" H-man said.
I grabbed poor Jemaine and plopped him in a bowl of water I had, thankfully, nearby.
"The water! The water!" I said
"I'll get towels" H-man said.
All in all it took 2 hours, 13 towels, some moving of major appliances and a new fishtank. But all my floors and baseboards are clean now. So, that's a plus.
Jemaine is fine by the way.
I thought I could do it myself, sliding the full tank across the counter top, over the stove to the sink where I could more easily drain the gross, fishy, water. Disaster struck when I got the tank to the stove. As I slid it across the burners, I let it rest for a moment in order to gather enough strength for the next leg of the trip across the counter tip. I looked up at H-man who was on the computer, thinking briefly of how pregnant women should not lift things over 50 lbs and wondering if I should call H-man over to help me out. That's when it happened.
The room filled with a "PSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" sound which I immediately took to be the burner on the stove snapping off and gas pouring out into the house at an alarming rate. H-man turned to me at that instant with a look that could only be described as "WTF?" I was wrong about the gas, at that moment the water hit my feet, a lot of water. 10 gallons of water. I had busted the bottom of the tank and water was flowing out fast, onto the stove, onto the kitchen floor and down the hallway.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" I said.
"Get Jemaine! Get Jemaine!" H-man said.
I grabbed poor Jemaine and plopped him in a bowl of water I had, thankfully, nearby.
"The water! The water!" I said
"I'll get towels" H-man said.
All in all it took 2 hours, 13 towels, some moving of major appliances and a new fishtank. But all my floors and baseboards are clean now. So, that's a plus.
Jemaine is fine by the way.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Catapulted into the 1950's
It's almost too much to bear. For four years we lived in a teeny-tiny apartment, an apartment so small that nomadic Mongolian villagers, a people who have their entire extended family living in a single room tent, might visit our home and exclaim "how on Earth do you do it?". Needless to say there were no laundry facilities, dishwasher or any fancy-shmancy appliances to speak of really. I felt it was a luxury to have a gas stove and wall heater. I'm not exaggerating when I say that our bathroom doubled as a laundry room, with rinsed out undies and socks hanging from any available surface, and watch out in the bath tub: laundry detergent is really slippery on ceramic!
Now, that's all changed. Right now, at this very moment while I'm typing this I have a load of dishes drying in my brand new dishwasher, a load of laundry cycling in the washer, I'm drinking a glass of ice water from our ice-making/water dispensing freezer. The central heater just kicked on (it's a little chilly today). Later, after I make dinner (meat from Swingle's and roasted veggies) I'll rinse the crap left over on the plates into my new garbage disposal while H-man utilizes one of our two bathrooms. It's a 1950's housewife's dream come true.
Ha! She doesn't have a dishwasher, keep smiling lady, maybe your luck will change.
My favorite appliance? It's a toss up between my washer/dryer and dishwasher. I get clean clothes whenever I want and I haven't had to hand wash a dish since I moved in. I freaking love it. Maybe I've been watching too much Dick Van Dyke, maybe I'm nesting, I don't care, I have Ice Water.
Now, that's all changed. Right now, at this very moment while I'm typing this I have a load of dishes drying in my brand new dishwasher, a load of laundry cycling in the washer, I'm drinking a glass of ice water from our ice-making/water dispensing freezer. The central heater just kicked on (it's a little chilly today). Later, after I make dinner (meat from Swingle's and roasted veggies) I'll rinse the crap left over on the plates into my new garbage disposal while H-man utilizes one of our two bathrooms. It's a 1950's housewife's dream come true.
Ha! She doesn't have a dishwasher, keep smiling lady, maybe your luck will change.
My favorite appliance? It's a toss up between my washer/dryer and dishwasher. I get clean clothes whenever I want and I haven't had to hand wash a dish since I moved in. I freaking love it. Maybe I've been watching too much Dick Van Dyke, maybe I'm nesting, I don't care, I have Ice Water.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
I Love my Husband
"You haven't got the pregnant 'fat-face' yet, a lot of women get a real fat face when they gain a ton of weight."
( to a friend we just had coffee with) "Did I tell you about the sex we're having? I mean the sex of the baby."
many more later
( to a friend we just had coffee with) "Did I tell you about the sex we're having? I mean the sex of the baby."
many more later
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
My Moustache Brings All the Boys to the Yard...
About 6 months ago my wonderful father gave us the gift of Roku, a device that lets us watch Netflix Instant Play movies on the television in our bedroom, despite the fact that our computer is across the house. We've had it for 6 months but only recently have been able to hook it up and get it working due to the generosity of a friend who gave us a router. But that's another story. This is a story about La Moustache.
This may be one of my new favorite movies, a movie I probably would never have seen if it wasn't for the Roku.
A summary:
Marc, a mustached man for a long time, asks his wife one evening what she would think if he shaved his mustache off. She replies that she wouldn't know what to think, he's had it so long, she may not even know him without it. So, while she's out, he shaves it, but is baffled when she, his friends and his coworkers don't even seem to notice.
Okay okay, it sounds boring, but give it a chance and you'll be amazed at how deliciously weird, funny and mysterious this film is. While watching it I kept on running out of the room (or waddling at this point if we're going to be honest) to H-man and yelling "This movie is so great/weird/funny/crazy!"
Being married to a man with ample facial hair (at times), and being a woman faced with a future of facial hair herself (I'm already plucking) this movie was especially significant. I highly recommend it.
This may be one of my new favorite movies, a movie I probably would never have seen if it wasn't for the Roku.A summary:
Marc, a mustached man for a long time, asks his wife one evening what she would think if he shaved his mustache off. She replies that she wouldn't know what to think, he's had it so long, she may not even know him without it. So, while she's out, he shaves it, but is baffled when she, his friends and his coworkers don't even seem to notice.
Okay okay, it sounds boring, but give it a chance and you'll be amazed at how deliciously weird, funny and mysterious this film is. While watching it I kept on running out of the room (or waddling at this point if we're going to be honest) to H-man and yelling "This movie is so great/weird/funny/crazy!"
Being married to a man with ample facial hair (at times), and being a woman faced with a future of facial hair herself (I'm already plucking) this movie was especially significant. I highly recommend it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A New Home and a New World
We've done it, we've moved to Jackson. Or maybe Martell. The difference? Jackson has about 4,000 people or so, Martell has 200. How do we not know which town we live in? Because we are past the Martell city limit sign, but the wonderful woman who runs our park answers the phone "......mobile home park in old Jackson". Also the tax assessor staff don't seem to know that our house exists. Very odd.
Leaving Humboldt has been difficult, but Amador county is a wonderful place. The more we explore the area the more we love it. Not even 50 mile from our house we have several historic town, at least two cavern systems, tons of hiking trails and everyone we met has been extremely friendly.
Also, did I mention that we live next door to this gem? This makes me worried for the friendly cows who live behind us. Not so much for #11, the queen of the cows, but for the little male calves that have been accompanying the ladies for the past couple of weeks. But who am I kidding? This place may have the best tri-tip I have ever tasted. We buy our meat exclusively from them now. I can't even remember what it was like when I was a vegetarian so many years ago.
We have a Walmart not even 1/2 a mile from our house. And a Petco, Lowes, Jamba Juice, Starbucks, K-Mart, Blockbuster and McDonalds. This has been the most difficult thing to get used to because when we were Humboldtians we made it point NEVER to shop at these places, (Petco excluded when the local shops were closed) Now these are the only places we can shop since there is almost no local businesses in Jackson/Martell. Luckily we found a pet store in Ione, 9 miles away, owned by a woman and staffed by her various children. We've been shopping there since. Walmart has been the biggest culture shock of these various corporate stores. They sell EVERYTHING there and after a conversation with some locals, it seems that there used to be a great deal of local stores, until WALmart moved in. Very scary, I try to avoid it as much as possible, but have accompanied the H-man there several times, sort of a morbid curiosity. At least that's my story.
Leaving Humboldt has been difficult, but Amador county is a wonderful place. The more we explore the area the more we love it. Not even 50 mile from our house we have several historic town, at least two cavern systems, tons of hiking trails and everyone we met has been extremely friendly.
Also, did I mention that we live next door to this gem? This makes me worried for the friendly cows who live behind us. Not so much for #11, the queen of the cows, but for the little male calves that have been accompanying the ladies for the past couple of weeks. But who am I kidding? This place may have the best tri-tip I have ever tasted. We buy our meat exclusively from them now. I can't even remember what it was like when I was a vegetarian so many years ago.
We have a Walmart not even 1/2 a mile from our house. And a Petco, Lowes, Jamba Juice, Starbucks, K-Mart, Blockbuster and McDonalds. This has been the most difficult thing to get used to because when we were Humboldtians we made it point NEVER to shop at these places, (Petco excluded when the local shops were closed) Now these are the only places we can shop since there is almost no local businesses in Jackson/Martell. Luckily we found a pet store in Ione, 9 miles away, owned by a woman and staffed by her various children. We've been shopping there since. Walmart has been the biggest culture shock of these various corporate stores. They sell EVERYTHING there and after a conversation with some locals, it seems that there used to be a great deal of local stores, until WALmart moved in. Very scary, I try to avoid it as much as possible, but have accompanied the H-man there several times, sort of a morbid curiosity. At least that's my story.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
New Favorite Book
While cleaning out our storage unit last weekend, we found this little gem:
Wood's Illustrated Natural History published by Altemus in an unknown year.
This book is now my favorite book, for various reasons, not the least of them being that it is so totally ridiculous it makes me laugh more than a Fannie Flagg book.
While the book is informative on the different types of animals known around the world at the year of publication, most of this information is how to kill and cook these animals. Or how to keep them in captivity.
Some excerpts from this "children's book"
On gorillas:
Albatross:
Wood's Illustrated Natural History published by Altemus in an unknown year.
This book is now my favorite book, for various reasons, not the least of them being that it is so totally ridiculous it makes me laugh more than a Fannie Flagg book.
While the book is informative on the different types of animals known around the world at the year of publication, most of this information is how to kill and cook these animals. Or how to keep them in captivity.
Some excerpts from this "children's book"
On gorillas:
- "The old father remains seated at the foot of the tree. If you can approach close enough to shoot him, you may then kill the rest of the family at your ease"
- " A woman was brought to me who stated that she herself had excited the passions of a Gorilla and had hardly escaped him"
- "at the extremity of the lion's tail there is a small hook or claw, which has been represented as the means by which the animal lashes himself into a fury, using it as a spur. This is impossible, as the claw or prickle is very small, not fixed to the bone as the claws of the feet are, but merely attached to the skin, and falls off it roughly handled. It is not present in all lions."
- "In one case a man and his wife, who were riding in a sleigh through the woods, were so hard pressed by Wolves that they saved themselves only by throwing out their children one by one, to be devoured by the hungry beast. It is said that in Russia more than two hundred human beings are killed by Wolves every year..."
Albatross:
- The voracity of the Albatross renders it an easy prey. A hook is baited with a piece of blubber, fastened firmly to a string, and suffered to tow astern. the bird sweeps down to seize its prey, and is arrested by the hook, by means of which it is drawn into the ship. It seems rather remarkable that a bird that lives n or over the sea during its whole life should prove a landsman when taken on board. Yet, when caught and placed on deck it begins to stagger about, and soon becomes as thoroughly sea-sick as the most inexperienced sailor."
- (about a tortoise he owned for a period) "It's food consisted of bread and milk, which it ate several times a day... Tortoises are generally long loved, but this animal died within a few months after it came into my possession, in all probability because, for some days, its food was placed in a brass vessel."
- "nearly 200 eggs are laid in one nest. The eggs are held in great estimation, but the "white" does not become hard by boiling.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The Car Thing
I've fallen in love several times before. Perhaps most deeply with the man I married. Perhaps second-placed deeply with Eddie. Eddie was my jeep. No, not just my jeep. Eddie was my friend, my companion, my symbol of freedom and adventure.
Born in 1987 in a factory wherever jeeps are made, Eddie was a dark blue color, four door Jeep Cherokee with the California plates that have sunsets on them. By the time he became part of my life he had been owned by both my uncle and my brother. His dark blue exterior had been worn down to the color of well-loved blue jeans by the salty air of the Pacific Ocean and he was very clean.
Eddie came into my life at a time when my life was in transition. I had joined he HSU women's rowing team, I had dumped my boyfriend of 2 years and I had just moved in with several girls that I new from the dorms into a house off campus. Sure he smelled like gasoline, sure it took a little coaxing to get up steep hills, but dammit, he was mine. After all, what intense relationship isn't deeply disturbing and flawed?
H-man and I went on several of our beginning dates in Eddie. It was in Eddie that our first child, Francois the French Fry made his home. We spent 6 hours stuck on the Lost Coast (fitting name) waiting for a tow truck in Eddie when he had broken down on the Mendocino Fault when we stopped to look at a bobcat. We took Eddie to Texas to see our friends get married, and then two years later we ourselves were married when we drove Eddie to Las Vegas.
It was soon after this that Eddie became more of a burden than a blessing. He needed constant care, monthly trips to the mechanic. He ate much more gas than he was worth and the back seat no longer folded down to make a spacious backseat for camping. Often I would barely make it home from work with steam pouring out from under Eddie's hood. I had to make the decision to end it.
I posted on craigslist, with pics, ,my beautiful boy, Eddie. Asking price $850 or best offer. Several days later I was trading Eddie for a fistful of cash and a brand new bike. I was now carless.
It has been 2 years since I sold Eddie and people often ask me if I regret getting rid of my car. I always say the same thing: I miss having the convenience of a car whenever I want ( we still have H-man's car but he lives in another part of the state right now) but I don't miss paying for gas, insurance, registration and maintenance. I don't like a lot of the people who ride the bus, but I don't have to drive myself and I get a lot more reading done. I'm much more active than I used to be, since I have to walk to the bus stops and various other location. I miss being able to hop in my car and go wherever, whenever, but I am able to find peace and beauty in my surroundings and am in much better tune with my immediate environment.
I used to see him around, with his new owners. They had replaced one of his doors with a red one. I will never know why. I haven't spotted him in months though and part of me knows that he has passed on to that great parking garage in the sky.
So long old friend.
Born in 1987 in a factory wherever jeeps are made, Eddie was a dark blue color, four door Jeep Cherokee with the California plates that have sunsets on them. By the time he became part of my life he had been owned by both my uncle and my brother. His dark blue exterior had been worn down to the color of well-loved blue jeans by the salty air of the Pacific Ocean and he was very clean.
Eddie came into my life at a time when my life was in transition. I had joined he HSU women's rowing team, I had dumped my boyfriend of 2 years and I had just moved in with several girls that I new from the dorms into a house off campus. Sure he smelled like gasoline, sure it took a little coaxing to get up steep hills, but dammit, he was mine. After all, what intense relationship isn't deeply disturbing and flawed?
H-man and I went on several of our beginning dates in Eddie. It was in Eddie that our first child, Francois the French Fry made his home. We spent 6 hours stuck on the Lost Coast (fitting name) waiting for a tow truck in Eddie when he had broken down on the Mendocino Fault when we stopped to look at a bobcat. We took Eddie to Texas to see our friends get married, and then two years later we ourselves were married when we drove Eddie to Las Vegas.
It was soon after this that Eddie became more of a burden than a blessing. He needed constant care, monthly trips to the mechanic. He ate much more gas than he was worth and the back seat no longer folded down to make a spacious backseat for camping. Often I would barely make it home from work with steam pouring out from under Eddie's hood. I had to make the decision to end it.
I posted on craigslist, with pics, ,my beautiful boy, Eddie. Asking price $850 or best offer. Several days later I was trading Eddie for a fistful of cash and a brand new bike. I was now carless.
It has been 2 years since I sold Eddie and people often ask me if I regret getting rid of my car. I always say the same thing: I miss having the convenience of a car whenever I want ( we still have H-man's car but he lives in another part of the state right now) but I don't miss paying for gas, insurance, registration and maintenance. I don't like a lot of the people who ride the bus, but I don't have to drive myself and I get a lot more reading done. I'm much more active than I used to be, since I have to walk to the bus stops and various other location. I miss being able to hop in my car and go wherever, whenever, but I am able to find peace and beauty in my surroundings and am in much better tune with my immediate environment.
I used to see him around, with his new owners. They had replaced one of his doors with a red one. I will never know why. I haven't spotted him in months though and part of me knows that he has passed on to that great parking garage in the sky.
So long old friend.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Kermit Dresses and Tights as Sleeves
I just watched "poker face" again. sans whining feline in the background. I can feel it coming on. That horrible fascination with crappy, mass produced music.
I fancy myself somewhat intelligent, creative and unique. I like to think that I'm uninfluenced by mass media and popular opinion. I watch The Golden Girls and read a lot. I'm an individual just like everyone else. But explain that to H-man when I forced him to listen to "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie a billionty times when I heard it in New Zealand. Explain it to me now that I've watched Lady Gaga for the second time today. Maybe it has something to do with this:
Yes, this is Lady GaGa in a dress made out of Kermit Dolls. I freaking love it. I would even say that I wouldn't even have thought to listen to her music if I hadn't seen this. And yes, I loved it when Bjork wore a dead swan dress
There's just something about these weird clothing choices that call out to me. Perhaps it's because I myself don't have the sand to wear stuffed/dead/stuffed-dead animals as clothing. I bought a jean jacket once. It was too hip to bear, I gave it away. I did manage this little number for a night though:
That's me on the right, in the red skirt, fishnets and a shirt that says "Groupie Looking for Musicians". Man that was a great night. But I still haven't written any catchy songs.
By the way, when Lady GaGa says "po-po-po-poker face" I get the image of poking her in the face in my head.
I fancy myself somewhat intelligent, creative and unique. I like to think that I'm uninfluenced by mass media and popular opinion. I watch The Golden Girls and read a lot. I'm an individual just like everyone else. But explain that to H-man when I forced him to listen to "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie a billionty times when I heard it in New Zealand. Explain it to me now that I've watched Lady Gaga for the second time today. Maybe it has something to do with this:
Yes, this is Lady GaGa in a dress made out of Kermit Dolls. I freaking love it. I would even say that I wouldn't even have thought to listen to her music if I hadn't seen this. And yes, I loved it when Bjork wore a dead swan dress
There's just something about these weird clothing choices that call out to me. Perhaps it's because I myself don't have the sand to wear stuffed/dead/stuffed-dead animals as clothing. I bought a jean jacket once. It was too hip to bear, I gave it away. I did manage this little number for a night though:
That's me on the right, in the red skirt, fishnets and a shirt that says "Groupie Looking for Musicians". Man that was a great night. But I still haven't written any catchy songs.
By the way, when Lady GaGa says "po-po-po-poker face" I get the image of poking her in the face in my head.
True Story
I was just watching Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" video on youtube. In my defense it was purely scientific, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I thought to myself "Huh, she sure has charisma, but man what a strange song" then I turned around and realized that Stella Cat was whining quietly at the door in time to the song, that's why the song sounded so weird, or was it?
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A Moment of Sweetness
Two little girls and their daddy were in the petting zoo this afternoon. Joy the pig was lounging and oinking in the sun as the girls pet her.
"Hey look, there are eyelashes on this piggy!" One of the little girl said to the other.
"That's how you can tell she's a girl" the other one said.
"Hey look, there are eyelashes on this piggy!" One of the little girl said to the other.
"That's how you can tell she's a girl" the other one said.
In Which I Show My Stuck Up Bitchy Side
Dear Humboldt Transit Patrons,
The people who ride the county bus on a regular basis, namely me, have a bone to pick with you.
Hey, Students, you supple, nubile youngsters, freshfaced and experiencing "the real world" for the first time on your own. Figure out where you need to get off and how much fare is before you get on. I have a connection downtown I need to catch, I have no time to listen to you ask the driver a million questions about schedules and rates. The schedule and fares are online, look it up. Is it okay if you sit next to me? I don't give a shit, just sit down, and don't talk to me. I don't want to make new friends on the bus. If I made friends with people on the bus I would likely have been a character witness in several trials by now. Hey, students sitting behind me: shut the fuck up about how you were a nude model and how you are taking Norwegian Literature or some shit, no one cares, no one is impressed. Be normal, read and be quiet. Turn your headphones down, I hate your music, and when you miss your stop because you couldn't hear the bus driver, I will give you no sympathy.
Hey people who only occasionally ride the bus. So you get on the bus and there is five bikes, a wheelchair and nowhere to sit, exclaiming "Boy is the bus crowded!" or "Squeeze one more into the sardine can" is not funny. We all hate you, that includes me, the person sitting next to me and the guy standing next me whose butt is in my face. Do us all a favor and get off the bus. That will make it less crowded, and much less annoying. Don't like the fare, too expensive for your frugal ways? Too fucking bad, buy a pass. No the driver can't make change, are you the last person on earth who doesn't know that? Ah, the bus is late, guess what, there's nothing you can do about it and bitching at the driver only makes it worse. Pay the fare, shut up and sit down so we can get going.
Hey women, get off your damn phones for five minutes, I don't want to listen to the highlights of your last Gyno appointment as described to your best friend. Wear less perfume.
Hey guys, cover your damn mouth when you cough and sneeze, are you fucking kidding me? Bathe more, fart less. The bay stinks enough at low tide, we really don't need your own personal scent to add to it.
Everyone, have your fare ready, get on the bus, pay the driver, sit down. This should take less than 30 seconds, some of you have it stretched out to 2 minutes in which the bus pulls up, you notice it, you stand up, walk over to the bus, ask the driver where the bus goes, ask how much the fare is, go back to where you were waiting, get your bag/stroller/bike, walk back to the bus at a pace that would frustrate a sloth, get on the bus, put your stuff down pull out your wallet, drop your money on the ground, look for your money with the assistance of several passengers, look for the correct fare, ask other passengers if they have change for a 10 or a dime they can spare, place the fare in the box, pick your crap up, walk to the back of the bus, ask someone if you can sit with them, and then finally sit down. At this point I want to punch you. That is on a good day.
Drivers, I like you, generally. Most of you are very nice and helpful. I respect you greatly because you have to deal with for 8 hour stretches the people who drive me into a homicidal rage in a mere hour and a half. The vast majority of you are awesome, keep up the good work. There are few, however, that make riding the bus an even more unpleasant experience. So you want people to tell you they're taking their bike off the rack in front of the bus? Okay, but couldn't you, I don't know, just look down? I've ridden with one of you who has almost run passengers over because you failed to notice a person who just walked off the bus taking a large metallic object off the front of the bus. This enrages you, apparently, so you laid on your horn at them while they desperately tried to disentangle their bike and avoid being run over by you. Another one always misses my stops. I ring the bell the appropriate amount of time ahead, she doesn't stop. Go figure. I say "Oops, I wanted that stop" and she always says "oh, the zoo?". Yep, I've been getting off at this stop for the past 2 years. I still would like to. Also I would like it if I didn't have to walk to another bus stop down the block just because I won't know if she will bother to stop at my regular stop to pick me up.
Regular passengers, you are all cool, we follow the code of the bus, we are one.
Enough!
The people who ride the county bus on a regular basis, namely me, have a bone to pick with you.
Hey, Students, you supple, nubile youngsters, freshfaced and experiencing "the real world" for the first time on your own. Figure out where you need to get off and how much fare is before you get on. I have a connection downtown I need to catch, I have no time to listen to you ask the driver a million questions about schedules and rates. The schedule and fares are online, look it up. Is it okay if you sit next to me? I don't give a shit, just sit down, and don't talk to me. I don't want to make new friends on the bus. If I made friends with people on the bus I would likely have been a character witness in several trials by now. Hey, students sitting behind me: shut the fuck up about how you were a nude model and how you are taking Norwegian Literature or some shit, no one cares, no one is impressed. Be normal, read and be quiet. Turn your headphones down, I hate your music, and when you miss your stop because you couldn't hear the bus driver, I will give you no sympathy.
Hey people who only occasionally ride the bus. So you get on the bus and there is five bikes, a wheelchair and nowhere to sit, exclaiming "Boy is the bus crowded!" or "Squeeze one more into the sardine can" is not funny. We all hate you, that includes me, the person sitting next to me and the guy standing next me whose butt is in my face. Do us all a favor and get off the bus. That will make it less crowded, and much less annoying. Don't like the fare, too expensive for your frugal ways? Too fucking bad, buy a pass. No the driver can't make change, are you the last person on earth who doesn't know that? Ah, the bus is late, guess what, there's nothing you can do about it and bitching at the driver only makes it worse. Pay the fare, shut up and sit down so we can get going.
Hey women, get off your damn phones for five minutes, I don't want to listen to the highlights of your last Gyno appointment as described to your best friend. Wear less perfume.
Hey guys, cover your damn mouth when you cough and sneeze, are you fucking kidding me? Bathe more, fart less. The bay stinks enough at low tide, we really don't need your own personal scent to add to it.
Everyone, have your fare ready, get on the bus, pay the driver, sit down. This should take less than 30 seconds, some of you have it stretched out to 2 minutes in which the bus pulls up, you notice it, you stand up, walk over to the bus, ask the driver where the bus goes, ask how much the fare is, go back to where you were waiting, get your bag/stroller/bike, walk back to the bus at a pace that would frustrate a sloth, get on the bus, put your stuff down pull out your wallet, drop your money on the ground, look for your money with the assistance of several passengers, look for the correct fare, ask other passengers if they have change for a 10 or a dime they can spare, place the fare in the box, pick your crap up, walk to the back of the bus, ask someone if you can sit with them, and then finally sit down. At this point I want to punch you. That is on a good day.
Drivers, I like you, generally. Most of you are very nice and helpful. I respect you greatly because you have to deal with for 8 hour stretches the people who drive me into a homicidal rage in a mere hour and a half. The vast majority of you are awesome, keep up the good work. There are few, however, that make riding the bus an even more unpleasant experience. So you want people to tell you they're taking their bike off the rack in front of the bus? Okay, but couldn't you, I don't know, just look down? I've ridden with one of you who has almost run passengers over because you failed to notice a person who just walked off the bus taking a large metallic object off the front of the bus. This enrages you, apparently, so you laid on your horn at them while they desperately tried to disentangle their bike and avoid being run over by you. Another one always misses my stops. I ring the bell the appropriate amount of time ahead, she doesn't stop. Go figure. I say "Oops, I wanted that stop" and she always says "oh, the zoo?". Yep, I've been getting off at this stop for the past 2 years. I still would like to. Also I would like it if I didn't have to walk to another bus stop down the block just because I won't know if she will bother to stop at my regular stop to pick me up.
Regular passengers, you are all cool, we follow the code of the bus, we are one.
Enough!
Friday, August 14, 2009
A Missed Opportunity?
I was riding home on the bus Monday afternoon when, as we arrived at a stop, an elderly male passenger approached the driver from outside the bus.
" I know the secret to living forever" the old man said smiling widely.
"Hmm, that's nice, they can help you in that store over there" The bus driver replied, pointing to an automotive parts store across the street, he then closed the door and we drove away.
"what was he saying?" a passenger asked the driver
"Oh, I don't know, something about eternal life, we sure get some weird-os around here."
" I know the secret to living forever" the old man said smiling widely.
"Hmm, that's nice, they can help you in that store over there" The bus driver replied, pointing to an automotive parts store across the street, he then closed the door and we drove away.
"what was he saying?" a passenger asked the driver
"Oh, I don't know, something about eternal life, we sure get some weird-os around here."
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Bitches of Classic Film. Volume 1
Glinda the "Good' Witch from the Wizard of Oz
That's right, I went there. Whatever for does Glinda deserve the designation of bitch in my book? Let's examine her actions shall we?
When Dorothy first arrives in Oz she is in a pretty bad situation. Not only has she murdered a woman with her house, she is in a very strange, technicolor place surrounded by strange little people called Munchkins who sing to her in creepy high-pitched voices about how they're so happy that some poor old woman has just been killed. Glinda comes to Dorothy in the form of a glowing pink orb, as if Dorothy isn't freaking out enough. When the dead woman's sister comes to find out what happened, Glinda mocks her and then threatens to murder the poor woman!
Dorothy, at this point, is not only the the throws of apparently a horrible drug situation but is also frightened. She turns to Glinda for advice. Glinda, to show she is not useful for only mocking mourning family members, puts Dorothy in even more danger by telling her she must guard some apparently useless shoes from the other woman, who will do anything, including murdering Dorothy, to get them. Thanks a lot Glinda.
Dorothy, of course, just wants to go home. So does Glinda help her? Well the conversation goes a little something like this:
Dorothy: How do I get home?
Glinda: I have no idea, you'll have to go talk to the wizard
Dorothy: Who's the wizard?
Glinda: I don't know, he's just this guy, you know?
Dorothy: How do I get to him?
Glinda: Uh follow this road, the little people will help you to the end of their border (the next 15 feet)
Dorothy: What if something happens along the way like angry trees or flying primates or fields of drugs or...
Glinda: Follow the road
Dorothy: what's going to happen to me?
Glinda: follow the road!
Dorothy: I'm really scared what...
Glinda: Follow the road!
I suppose Glinda does help Dorothy a little by waking her up from her drug induced slumber in the field of poppies. I think we can see who won't be invited to any parties any time soon.
So where is this "good" witch the entire time Dorothy is attacked by trees or kidnapped by the poor dead woman's sister and tortured? Probably breaking up a party somewhere. That's where.
In the end Glinda makes a final apperance in the Emerald City to see Dorothy off on the balloon. When the plan craps out, what does Glinda do? She "helpfully" tells Dorothy she could have gone home the entire time. But no, instead Dorothy had to lose three good friends, get attacked by trees and almost killed. Thanks a heap Glinda.
Why don't you just fly up back up north in your little bubble and save everyone a lot of trouble in future.
(P.S. I just noticed, several days later, that the picture of Glinda has her spearing a flounder with her wand. I don't know what that's about, I got the picture from google image search)
That's right, I went there. Whatever for does Glinda deserve the designation of bitch in my book? Let's examine her actions shall we?
When Dorothy first arrives in Oz she is in a pretty bad situation. Not only has she murdered a woman with her house, she is in a very strange, technicolor place surrounded by strange little people called Munchkins who sing to her in creepy high-pitched voices about how they're so happy that some poor old woman has just been killed. Glinda comes to Dorothy in the form of a glowing pink orb, as if Dorothy isn't freaking out enough. When the dead woman's sister comes to find out what happened, Glinda mocks her and then threatens to murder the poor woman!
Dorothy, at this point, is not only the the throws of apparently a horrible drug situation but is also frightened. She turns to Glinda for advice. Glinda, to show she is not useful for only mocking mourning family members, puts Dorothy in even more danger by telling her she must guard some apparently useless shoes from the other woman, who will do anything, including murdering Dorothy, to get them. Thanks a lot Glinda.
Dorothy, of course, just wants to go home. So does Glinda help her? Well the conversation goes a little something like this:
Dorothy: How do I get home?
Glinda: I have no idea, you'll have to go talk to the wizard
Dorothy: Who's the wizard?
Glinda: I don't know, he's just this guy, you know?
Dorothy: How do I get to him?
Glinda: Uh follow this road, the little people will help you to the end of their border (the next 15 feet)
Dorothy: What if something happens along the way like angry trees or flying primates or fields of drugs or...
Glinda: Follow the road
Dorothy: what's going to happen to me?
Glinda: follow the road!
Dorothy: I'm really scared what...
Glinda: Follow the road!
I suppose Glinda does help Dorothy a little by waking her up from her drug induced slumber in the field of poppies. I think we can see who won't be invited to any parties any time soon.
So where is this "good" witch the entire time Dorothy is attacked by trees or kidnapped by the poor dead woman's sister and tortured? Probably breaking up a party somewhere. That's where.
In the end Glinda makes a final apperance in the Emerald City to see Dorothy off on the balloon. When the plan craps out, what does Glinda do? She "helpfully" tells Dorothy she could have gone home the entire time. But no, instead Dorothy had to lose three good friends, get attacked by trees and almost killed. Thanks a heap Glinda.
Why don't you just fly up back up north in your little bubble and save everyone a lot of trouble in future.
(P.S. I just noticed, several days later, that the picture of Glinda has her spearing a flounder with her wand. I don't know what that's about, I got the picture from google image search)
Friday, August 7, 2009
She's Leaving Town
It appears that officially H-man and I have become adults. We have a baby on the way and we bought a house. The house is not in Humboldt County, thus I will be leaving one of the greatest places in California to live.
Things to do in Humboldt before we move:
Things to do in Humboldt before we move:
- Go to Renata's Creperie and eat a savory and a sweet crepe in one sitting plus a cup of their wonderful coffee.
- Stop by Katy's Smokehouse and stock up on some canned heaven.
- Swing by Mosgo's for an Italian Soda, salad and some jazz
- Make reservations at Tomo's for some mind altering sashimi, Samraat's for their naan and Curley's for their beautiful and delicious menu.
- Go up to Redwood Beach in Orick
- Visit Fern Canyon
- Shop at Many Hands Gallery (where am I going to do my gift shopping now?)
- See Lady Bird Johnson grove one last time
- Take a ride on the Madaket again
- Bird Watch at the ox-ponds at the Marsh
- Bike down the Hammond Trail
- Buy some local products at the Arcata Co-Op
- Get a sandwhich at Hole-in-the-Wall
- Stock up at Moonrise Herbs, and get a sweatshirt
- Meet with a bunch of friends at the Samoa Cook House for dinner
Friday, July 31, 2009
I'm an Ass
I just spoke with my dad. I forgot his birthday. I feel like such an idiot. Happy Birthday Dad.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Yummmy
This is what I ate today:
- Whole wheat toast with crunchy peanut butter and strawberry jam (ever notice how hard it is to find blackberry jam with seeds? H-man says it's because the seeds cause colon polyps, but hey, I would like the option)
- 2 hard boiled eggs, stuffed down my throat quickly. I need the iron and protein but I don't have to like eggs.
- Half a turkey sub with cream cheese, avocado and tomatoes. Nummy
- A Mandarin orange
- A Kit-Kat bar
- Whole wheat pita bread smeared with garlic-artichoke cheese spread.
I thought it might be time to get past the garlic hummus considering how gassy I am the next day. - a granny smith apple
- A southwestern type salad with corn and spicy dressing.
- a butt load (or 3 liters for you metric type people) of water
- Dried papaya spears
- frozen apple juice concentrate straight from the can.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
"Easy Day"
Tuesday is my "easy day". I only work half the day so it also my "business day" when I can take care of all the errands and phone calls I need to for the week. Also, since I don't have to worry about not catching the last bus home, it's also my "take my time to get to the bus day" which is very nice since I don't get totally wiped out power-walking the 2 1/2 miles to the bust stop.
Despite all this, I am totally wiped out today. Why? Did I have a lot of extra work today?--no. Unless you count sitting in the sunshine being nuzzled by a goat and talking to friendly people work. I didn't even walk to the bus stop. But, I'm exhausted.
More Pet Peeves:
Figure 1: in which I am approaching an intersection
Figure 2: In which I have entered the intersection and the car enters it as well.
As a pedestrian, I would prefer it if drivers didn't steer their 1 ton death machines near me.
Despite all this, I am totally wiped out today. Why? Did I have a lot of extra work today?--no. Unless you count sitting in the sunshine being nuzzled by a goat and talking to friendly people work. I didn't even walk to the bus stop. But, I'm exhausted.
More Pet Peeves:
- Illuminated "CLOSED" signs. You know, those LCD light displays that spend electricity to tell everyone that the darkened pet store at 2 a.m. is not in fact open? I hate those things. What a waste.
- When I'm walking down the sidewalk and a huge ass truck is parked in its driveway, but the butt of the truck is sticking out onto the sidewalk making me walk into the street to get around it.
- When I'm approaching a stop-sign intersection on foot and a car waits at the stop-sign for me to cross, even though I'm still a considerable distance from entering said intersection, but then starts to drive towards me when I'm actually in the intersection. Confused? Let me draw you a picture
Figure 1: in which I am approaching an intersection
Figure 2: In which I have entered the intersection and the car enters it as well.
As a pedestrian, I would prefer it if drivers didn't steer their 1 ton death machines near me.- When I'm approaching and intersection and someone wants to turn right in front of me, but they don't turn when they have the chance, holding up traffic behind them.
- Loogies and cigarette butts all over the ground in front of the bench at the bus stop, sheesh, other people sit there too.
- Cybill Shepherd. I don't know why, maybe it has something to do with Peter Bogdanovich
- People who never stop talking on their cell phones. This happens a lot on the bus. There's this one woman who H-Man and I both see all the time at the Humboldt State University bus stop. She's talking on her phone loudly when she gets on and is still talking loudly on her phone when she gets off the bus an hour later. We were driving down the highway a few weekends ago and saw her on the side of the highway, on her bike, on her phone.
- People who never stop talking period. Another bus phenomenon.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
"I Didn't Have Polio, But I Did Need to Have an Enema"
Oh man. You know when you read a book years ago and you just can't stop thinking about that book? Well, I was at St. Vincent de Paul's in Eureka last week where they have books at 3 for $1. I bought Forrest Gump, The Witches and Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man.
Many years ago, when I was just a lass in the San Fran Bay Area, I found and read Daisy Fay and then gave it to my best friend Lisa with a "you NEED to read this, you will love it". Soon afterward I moved to the Mojave Desert and never saw Lisa again (well, there was this one time in Mexico, but it's a long story). I gave in to the fact that I would probably never see the book again. Yes, I'm being dramatic, but it really is a great book. I've looked. I've been to libraries and thrift stores but it wasn't until last week when I finally found it again.
A very brief summary:
Daisy Fay is precocious and lives in the South, her dad is a drunk, her mom is high strung. They move to the beach to open a malt stand, a lot of adventures and misadventures occur. She grows up she wants to be an actress, there is a happy ending.
Written by Fannie Flagg, Daisy Fay is allegedly autobiographical. Flagg also wrote Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, and you can see that a lot of the characters from Fried Green Tomatoes are influenced by characters in Daisy Fay's life.
I highly reccomend this book. I'm trying to get H-man to read it right now but I mistakenly convinced him it was a little girly in some parts (which is only mildly true).
Many years ago, when I was just a lass in the San Fran Bay Area, I found and read Daisy Fay and then gave it to my best friend Lisa with a "you NEED to read this, you will love it". Soon afterward I moved to the Mojave Desert and never saw Lisa again (well, there was this one time in Mexico, but it's a long story). I gave in to the fact that I would probably never see the book again. Yes, I'm being dramatic, but it really is a great book. I've looked. I've been to libraries and thrift stores but it wasn't until last week when I finally found it again.
A very brief summary:
Daisy Fay is precocious and lives in the South, her dad is a drunk, her mom is high strung. They move to the beach to open a malt stand, a lot of adventures and misadventures occur. She grows up she wants to be an actress, there is a happy ending.
Written by Fannie Flagg, Daisy Fay is allegedly autobiographical. Flagg also wrote Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, and you can see that a lot of the characters from Fried Green Tomatoes are influenced by characters in Daisy Fay's life.
I highly reccomend this book. I'm trying to get H-man to read it right now but I mistakenly convinced him it was a little girly in some parts (which is only mildly true).
Back in St. Olaf.....
I watch The Golden Girls. I watch it a lot. I watch it so much that H-man and I randomly burst into the theme song throughout the day. I watch it so much that our baby is going to be consoled only by the sound of Bea Arthur's voice saying "Shut up Rose".
I have some opinions on the show, particularly about the various guest characters. Man are some of them jerks, hypocrites and just plain mean. For example:
#1Chick Vennera as Pepe/ Enrique Mas-
This guy makes a couple of appearances, once in season 4, and twice in season 5. In season 4 he plays "Pepe" a prize fighter that Sophia invests in in order to raise a great amount of money for the household. Pepe is portrayed as a blood thirsty animal who only cares about killing his opponent in the ring. He's dumb as an ox, can barely speak English (or any language for that matter) and appears to be shoe-in for the prize. The night before the fight, Pepe goes missing, and the girls follow his trail to an abandoned warehouse where they expect to find some kind of distasteful happenings occurring. But, they were wrong. Pepe is practicing his violin in order to prepare for his audition for Julliard. He scolds the women for assuming he was just a mindless killing machine (although that's how he portrayed himself) and claims that Anglos see a Hispanic man and buy into the idea that they are dumb and useless, again, exactly as he was pretending to be. The next day Pepe gets punched in the head at the fight and can't remember the violin piece he was to preform for the Julliard people. Instead he delivers a soliloquy he had berated the ladies with about how he's Latino and Human at the same time. As you can imagine, he gets accepted to Julliard.
But here's the kicker: Mr. Vennera returns in season 5. Not as Pepe, no, as Enrique Mas. Rose's prejudice and overbearing boss at a consumer report television show. After all his diatribe about being interchangeable and not seen as an individual, Pepe returns as a completely different character! Deceit! Hypocrisy! Que Horrible!
#2 Ann Francis as Trudy-
Oh Trudy. You horrible woman! Dorothy's best friend from high school is in town for a high school reunion. The pair have been competitive since forever, playing pranks on each other and and the such. After they reunite and fling insults at each other, the pair decided to play a "friendly" match of tennis. During the match, Trudy drops dead, but the fun is only beginning. At the school reunion that evening Dorothy tearfully admits to her fellow alumnus that Trudy died that morning during an especially vigorous match of tennis. Dorothy feels that it is all her fault and decides to retire to her room inconsolable. While the other girls try to think of ways to make Dorothy feel better, someone makes a grand entrance that changes everything. Trudy had faked her own death to play a joke on Dorothy and is ready to enjoy the party. What a bitch! Rose, Blanch and Sophia make Trudy go to Dorothy and apologize but when they go back to her room, everyone is in for a big surprise. Dorothy is in bed with Trudy's husband, Jack. Ha! Of course this all ends up being a big joke on Trudy, because let's face it, who would sleep with Dorothy?
#3 Herb Edelman as Stan Zbornak
I hate to admit it, but I have special place in my heart for Stan. Despite him being possible the biggest douche in Miami, down deep he is sweet, sympathetic and cares about Dorothy very much. That being said, this character is the most decietful, coniving, sex-driven (even more so than Blanch) character to appear on the Golden Girls. Dorothy and Stan were married for 38 years and as Dorothy says he was cheating on her for 39 of those years. He left Dorothy after all this time for a flight attendant, but like with all his relationships and business ventures he falls on his face.
Stan takes Sophia to a baseball game where she gets hit on the head with a ball, Stan tries to milk it for all it's worth and ends up losing money in the end. Stan informs Dorothy that he was lying about his taxes for the entire time they were married and now Dorothy is in trouble with the IRS. Stan tries to convince the girls to give him $1000 each at Christmas time to invest in a plastic vomit company, this of coure is a lie, he was jsut trying to get some cash to make it through the Holidays. He remarries succssfully to a very nice woman only to come on to Blanch and Dorothy continuously. Stan takes the cake, has sex with it then dumps it for a younger cake.
I have some opinions on the show, particularly about the various guest characters. Man are some of them jerks, hypocrites and just plain mean. For example:
#1Chick Vennera as Pepe/ Enrique Mas-
This guy makes a couple of appearances, once in season 4, and twice in season 5. In season 4 he plays "Pepe" a prize fighter that Sophia invests in in order to raise a great amount of money for the household. Pepe is portrayed as a blood thirsty animal who only cares about killing his opponent in the ring. He's dumb as an ox, can barely speak English (or any language for that matter) and appears to be shoe-in for the prize. The night before the fight, Pepe goes missing, and the girls follow his trail to an abandoned warehouse where they expect to find some kind of distasteful happenings occurring. But, they were wrong. Pepe is practicing his violin in order to prepare for his audition for Julliard. He scolds the women for assuming he was just a mindless killing machine (although that's how he portrayed himself) and claims that Anglos see a Hispanic man and buy into the idea that they are dumb and useless, again, exactly as he was pretending to be. The next day Pepe gets punched in the head at the fight and can't remember the violin piece he was to preform for the Julliard people. Instead he delivers a soliloquy he had berated the ladies with about how he's Latino and Human at the same time. As you can imagine, he gets accepted to Julliard.
But here's the kicker: Mr. Vennera returns in season 5. Not as Pepe, no, as Enrique Mas. Rose's prejudice and overbearing boss at a consumer report television show. After all his diatribe about being interchangeable and not seen as an individual, Pepe returns as a completely different character! Deceit! Hypocrisy! Que Horrible!
#2 Ann Francis as Trudy-
Oh Trudy. You horrible woman! Dorothy's best friend from high school is in town for a high school reunion. The pair have been competitive since forever, playing pranks on each other and and the such. After they reunite and fling insults at each other, the pair decided to play a "friendly" match of tennis. During the match, Trudy drops dead, but the fun is only beginning. At the school reunion that evening Dorothy tearfully admits to her fellow alumnus that Trudy died that morning during an especially vigorous match of tennis. Dorothy feels that it is all her fault and decides to retire to her room inconsolable. While the other girls try to think of ways to make Dorothy feel better, someone makes a grand entrance that changes everything. Trudy had faked her own death to play a joke on Dorothy and is ready to enjoy the party. What a bitch! Rose, Blanch and Sophia make Trudy go to Dorothy and apologize but when they go back to her room, everyone is in for a big surprise. Dorothy is in bed with Trudy's husband, Jack. Ha! Of course this all ends up being a big joke on Trudy, because let's face it, who would sleep with Dorothy?#3 Herb Edelman as Stan Zbornak
I hate to admit it, but I have special place in my heart for Stan. Despite him being possible the biggest douche in Miami, down deep he is sweet, sympathetic and cares about Dorothy very much. That being said, this character is the most decietful, coniving, sex-driven (even more so than Blanch) character to appear on the Golden Girls. Dorothy and Stan were married for 38 years and as Dorothy says he was cheating on her for 39 of those years. He left Dorothy after all this time for a flight attendant, but like with all his relationships and business ventures he falls on his face.Stan takes Sophia to a baseball game where she gets hit on the head with a ball, Stan tries to milk it for all it's worth and ends up losing money in the end. Stan informs Dorothy that he was lying about his taxes for the entire time they were married and now Dorothy is in trouble with the IRS. Stan tries to convince the girls to give him $1000 each at Christmas time to invest in a plastic vomit company, this of coure is a lie, he was jsut trying to get some cash to make it through the Holidays. He remarries succssfully to a very nice woman only to come on to Blanch and Dorothy continuously. Stan takes the cake, has sex with it then dumps it for a younger cake.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Cat
Stella the Cat and I have done a lot of bonding over the past month and a half that H-man has been gone. Mostly this involves a lot of cuddling and purring and laying on my lap and sniffing my forehead ( I really don't know what that's about).
However, not everything is so sweet. She sleeps in the bedroom with me, either on my shoulder or on the bookcase between the silver candlesticks and shark jaw. Her food is in the room also. This is set up so I don't have to leave the bedroom door open at night because, quite honestly, I'm afraid of the dark and the dark living room is the darkest part of the house. Each night I make sure to fill her food and water ( I don't know why, she only drinks out of the fish tank anyway). She eats her food before she lays down with me, then we cuddle and fall asleep to the Golden Girls or Seinfeld or something. Then it happens.
Every Morning. 5 a.m. She starts The Meow.
"Meh. Meh. Mah. Mah. Mah. Mah. Mow. Mow. Mow. Mooooowwwww. MEooooooooowwww. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. Mahhhhhhhhhhhh. MOW, MOW, MOW, MOW, MOW." says Stella.
"Shush. Shush. Stella! Stella! Stella! NO, NO, NO, NO! SHUT UP! " Says me.
Until recent she did her routine from the bookcase, and would quit pretty quickly also. But not anymore. This week she has begun to climb onto the bed and stare at me. Then she climbs onto my side, and plants her face in my face, purring, then meowing. All this time I have been pretending to sleep, believing that if I give in and feed her right away she will begin to control my life. It's gone way past that now. Last night she climbed onto the windowsill above my head and jumped down onto my head for 15 minutes strait. I gave in. I had to. The cat has won.
cat wants food, cat gets baseball bat, - Watch more Funny Videos
However, not everything is so sweet. She sleeps in the bedroom with me, either on my shoulder or on the bookcase between the silver candlesticks and shark jaw. Her food is in the room also. This is set up so I don't have to leave the bedroom door open at night because, quite honestly, I'm afraid of the dark and the dark living room is the darkest part of the house. Each night I make sure to fill her food and water ( I don't know why, she only drinks out of the fish tank anyway). She eats her food before she lays down with me, then we cuddle and fall asleep to the Golden Girls or Seinfeld or something. Then it happens.
Every Morning. 5 a.m. She starts The Meow.
"Meh. Meh. Mah. Mah. Mah. Mah. Mow. Mow. Mow. Mooooowwwww. MEooooooooowwww. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. Mahhhhhhhhhhhh. MOW, MOW, MOW, MOW, MOW." says Stella.
"Shush. Shush. Stella! Stella! Stella! NO, NO, NO, NO! SHUT UP! " Says me.
Until recent she did her routine from the bookcase, and would quit pretty quickly also. But not anymore. This week she has begun to climb onto the bed and stare at me. Then she climbs onto my side, and plants her face in my face, purring, then meowing. All this time I have been pretending to sleep, believing that if I give in and feed her right away she will begin to control my life. It's gone way past that now. Last night she climbed onto the windowsill above my head and jumped down onto my head for 15 minutes strait. I gave in. I had to. The cat has won.
cat wants food, cat gets baseball bat, - Watch more Funny Videos
Friday, July 10, 2009
A Funny Thing Happened at the Bus Stop
Seeing that I spend a great deal of time at bus stops, especially bus stops around Eureka, I really shouldn't be surprised/disgusted/bemused by all the weird things I see.
For example:
For example:
- A drunk, shirtless guy belting out country music in front of his house at 7:30 a.m on a Wednesday in February.
- A car that reeked of death pulling up and dropping off a woman and her son. "Are you sure I can't take you all the way home?" the driver asked the woman, then as he drove away the woman turned to me and asked if I smelt something funny. I said "yes, it was that guy's car, it smelled like death. " She stares at me and murmurs "oh, oh God"
- A man on the bus dropping his burrito and then yelling "FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!"
- A homeless man rummaging through the trash can next to me, pulling out a nearly empty vodka bottle, draining it into his gullet then storming off screaming " I'm NOT crazy! What do you think I am, STUPID?!?!"
- A man doing a series of stretches while wearing cowboy chaps and smoking a cigarette.
- People lighting joints at the back of the bus, then staring down everyone around them.
- The dirtiest woman I have ever seen. Cankles encrusted with grime, holey sweatpants, desperately attempting to glue a cigarette back together with her own saliva.
- A woman with her child. The child screaming, the mother screaming at the child, the child screaming back at her.
- A 15 year old boy hitting on a much older woman. "I'm experienced with ladies, I know how to treat a lady right"
- Two girls talking about narrative devices: "so when a movie shows something that symbolizes what is going to happen in the future that's like called forshowering right?" "yeah, forshowering."
- "people who go to the (local community college) are really dumb and ignorant, I know how to work the system" "So what school do you go to?" "(local community college)"
- A couple dressed up in mardi gras clothing pulled up and asking me where a certain hotel is.
- A homeless man coming up and asking for change. " Sorry, no change, all I have is my bus pass" says the man next to me. Next he asks me "Sorry, all I have is my bus pass too" He rolls his eyes and then starts to yell at me about how all he wants is a little change so he can buy a coffee. The bus then comes and the man in front of me pays in cash, I pay with my bus pass.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Pet Peeves
- When people drive around the totem pole at Safeway like it's a roundabout. It isn't a roundabout. It's a totem pole.
- When people open a carbonated beverage then leave it open in the fridge as so it loses it' s carbonation.
- When I am invited over to someone's house at a specific time and when I get there exactly on time they aren't home yet.
- When I'm listening to headphones at the bus stop and a someone tries to start a conversation with me.
- Everything in general these days.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Dickissels and Migrating Turds
Birds From CA-->NM
(* denotes a lifer bird for me)
Red-Shouldered Hawk
American Crow
European Starling
White Crowned Sparrow
House Sparrow
Common Raven
Turkey Vulture
American Robin
Stellar's Jay
Black Phoebe
Rock Pigeon
Scrub Jay
Common Merganser
Western Tanager*
Bald Eagle
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Mourning Dove
Barn Swallow
Canada Goose
Brewer's Blackbird
Mountain Bluebird*
Red-Winged Blackbird
Black-Billed Magpie
Great-Blue Heron
Yellow Headed Black Bird*
Eared Grebe
Pie-Billed Grebe
American Coot
Great-Tailed Grackle
Black-Necked Stilt
Red-Necked Phalarope
Canvasback
Ferruginous Hawk*
Golden Eagle*
Western Kingbird*
Eurasian Collard-Dove*
Western Meadowlark
Prairie Falcon*
Cliff Swallow
Brown-Crested Flycatcher*
Indigo-Lazuli Bunting Hybrid*
House Finch
Curve-Billed Thrasher*
White-Winged Dove*
Spotted Towhee*
Northern Cardinal
Western Bluebird*
American Dipper*
Hepatic Tanager*
Gamble's Quail*
Mallard
Dusky Capped Flycatcher*
Northern Mockingbird*
Red-Tailed Hawk
Greater Roadrunner
Mexican Jay*
Pinyon Jay*
Bendire's Thrasher*
Black-Headed Grosbeak*
Acorn Woodpecker*
Yellow-Eyed Junco*
Wild Turkey
Elegant Trogon*******
Black-Chinned Hummingbird*
Magnificent Hummingbird*
Blue Throated Hummingbird*
Say's Phoebe*
Painted Red-Start*
Ash-Throated Flycatcher*
Black Throated Sparrow*
Hooded Oriole*
Bronzed Cowbird*
Swainson's Hawk*
Canyon Towhee*
Lesser Nighthawk*
Killdeer
Gila Woodepecker*
Gilded Flicker*
Harrier Hawk
American Goldfinch
Western Gull
Ring-Billed Gull
Dark-Eyed Junco
Total Species:84
(* denotes a lifer bird for me)
Red-Shouldered Hawk
American Crow
European Starling
White Crowned Sparrow
House Sparrow
Common Raven
Turkey Vulture
American Robin
Stellar's Jay
Black Phoebe
Rock Pigeon
Scrub Jay
Common Merganser
Western Tanager*
Bald Eagle
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Mourning Dove
Barn Swallow
Canada Goose
Brewer's Blackbird
Mountain Bluebird*
Red-Winged Blackbird
Black-Billed Magpie
Great-Blue Heron
Yellow Headed Black Bird*
Eared Grebe
Pie-Billed Grebe
American Coot
Great-Tailed Grackle
Black-Necked Stilt
Red-Necked Phalarope
Canvasback
Ferruginous Hawk*
Golden Eagle*
Western Kingbird*
Eurasian Collard-Dove*
Western Meadowlark
Prairie Falcon*
Cliff Swallow
Brown-Crested Flycatcher*
Indigo-Lazuli Bunting Hybrid*
House Finch
Curve-Billed Thrasher*
White-Winged Dove*
Spotted Towhee*
Northern Cardinal
Western Bluebird*
American Dipper*
Hepatic Tanager*
Gamble's Quail*
Mallard
Dusky Capped Flycatcher*
Northern Mockingbird*
Red-Tailed Hawk
Greater Roadrunner
Mexican Jay*
Pinyon Jay*
Bendire's Thrasher*
Black-Headed Grosbeak*
Acorn Woodpecker*
Yellow-Eyed Junco*
Wild Turkey
Elegant Trogon*******
Black-Chinned Hummingbird*
Magnificent Hummingbird*
Blue Throated Hummingbird*
Say's Phoebe*
Painted Red-Start*
Ash-Throated Flycatcher*
Black Throated Sparrow*
Hooded Oriole*
Bronzed Cowbird*
Swainson's Hawk*
Canyon Towhee*
Lesser Nighthawk*
Killdeer
Gila Woodepecker*
Gilded Flicker*
Harrier Hawk
American Goldfinch
Western Gull
Ring-Billed Gull
Dark-Eyed Junco
Total Species:84
Onward to the Land of Enchantment
H-man and I just returned from our yearly spring time road trip. In the past we have driven in my trusty/rusty old jeep heap to such exotic locales as Houston Texas, Portal Arizona, Las Vegas Nevada, Lake Tahoe California, Ashland Oregon, and wonderful Silver City New Mexico.
This year we returned in our newer, much trustier Neon to our favorite town in New Mexico-Silver City, to visit H-man's parents and to soak up some much needed vitamin D. On a side note we also used this trip to get in some quality birding time and to spend some much needed time together before H-man leaves Humboldt for his job as a Forest Service employee in other parts of the state that aren't here.
We left Humboldt Friday the 16th of May and drove across the state into Nevada ending up in Ely Nevada much later that night. Not that we planned to drive so dang much, but, a lesson was to be learned. We intended to stay in Eureka Nevada, 144 miles to the west of Ely. " How clever we are" we chuckled to ourselves as we approached Eureka Nevada "to leave from Eureka California and end the day in Eureka Nevada, my aren't we smug?" FAIL. There were no hotels with vacancies in either Eureka Nevada or Austin Nevada, a mere 77 miles away. So we drove on, and on. Arriving at the most beautiful hotel I have ever seen in my life in Ely Nevada. And by beautiful I of course mean that it had a bed and it had a vacancy. I may have frightened the poor man behind the counter a little with my delirious gratefulness I was so happy.
Lesson learned: when you are intending to drive across the vast emptiness of Eastern Nevada, make sure to get hotel reservations. And also, drive the speed limit in Eureka Nevada at night, even if it is 12:30 a.m. The local fuzz just won't stand for 35 in a 25 zone, even if you and said officer are the only people insane enough to be out.
The next day H-man took this photo:
Onward! We stated loudly and to each other stopping only for birding and the occasional pee break. Peschoe Nevada was our first town stop along the way, mostly a ghost town but very beautiful and atmospheric.
the sign at the bottom right says "Been Closed for 50 years"
Very shortly after that we stopped at Cathedral Gorge just out of town. It took me a few minutes to realize that I had visited the gorge many years before when I was living in Needles. My mother and her boyfriend had brought me there while we were visiting the town of Panaca for a highschool football game. I was thrilled once I realized this because I had been amazed at the beauty of the place when I was there 12 years ago and had always wanted to go back but could not remember where this place was. Serendiptious defined.
We spent some time walking in the gorge and reveling in the beauty before we finally had to leave. But not before confusing some random people: As we left the gorge up a staircase, out of breath we passed a couple at the top.
"Is it neat down there?" the woman asked H-man, who was panting
" No, not too much" he replied thinking the woman had asked if there was "heat down there"
"Oh, just the walk then?" she asked looking pretty confused or bewildered
" uh yeah" He looked at her like she was crazy, the look was returned.
So after doing our daily job of confusing people we were on our way again. It was only a short drive to Utah from Panaca.
So there was only one reason we wanted to go through Utah on our way. Not because of it's natural beauty and the friendly people, shit no. We went because we wanted to see FLDS polygamists. H-man has been interested in the culture for several years now and since we had the chance this trip to make our way to Hildale/Colorado City we took the opportunity.
I insisted on stopping through Zion National Park on the way however where we saw our first rattlesnake of the trip-a Western Diamondback as well as some gorgeous natural features.
We made it St. George that afternoon, where we got a hotel, then drove the 1/2 hour out to the site. I didn't get any pictures from that evening but we went back the next day
All the houses are huge and everyone just wants to be left alone. That would pretty much sum up my view of the town. The bulletin board above was posted at the town's grocery store. It was selling rabbits, jeans, cell phones and machinery. We saw very few people when we returned the next day, but the evening before we had seen a very beautiful young girl in the typical dress, except she was wearing jeans underneath it. We also saw a lot of people with cell phones and a lot of cars, many with their windows tinted. We stopped for a spell at the local UEP park where everyone jumped in their vans and trucks and sped off.
An observation: the FLDS wants so much to be disincluded from American tradition and edicts in order to live their own lives and follow their own beliefs. I struck me, however, how much their lifestyle resemble, at least to me, the stereotypical American dream: a home of your own, a close knit, hardworking community and family life, clean living and faith.
After our foray into alternative lifestyles we went on to Silver City via Flagstaff and Springerville. We reached Silver much later than we thought we might, mostly because of our stop at House Rock Arizona and a dinner stop in Flagstaff.
At Silver City we spent quality time with the parents, seeing the local sights, hiking, geocaching and birdwatching. It was wonderful to spend time with them and visit our favorite areas of New Mexico and Arizona.
Then we had to return. We came home through Southern California, Blythe, Needles and Bartsow to be specific. Then up through San Francisco to vist my side of the family, and then home. It's good to be back but I sure love these trips. Visiting religious extremists, confusing tourists, frightening hotel owners and reminding ourselves that there really is no place like Humboldt County. That's a good vacation right there.
This year we returned in our newer, much trustier Neon to our favorite town in New Mexico-Silver City, to visit H-man's parents and to soak up some much needed vitamin D. On a side note we also used this trip to get in some quality birding time and to spend some much needed time together before H-man leaves Humboldt for his job as a Forest Service employee in other parts of the state that aren't here.
We left Humboldt Friday the 16th of May and drove across the state into Nevada ending up in Ely Nevada much later that night. Not that we planned to drive so dang much, but, a lesson was to be learned. We intended to stay in Eureka Nevada, 144 miles to the west of Ely. " How clever we are" we chuckled to ourselves as we approached Eureka Nevada "to leave from Eureka California and end the day in Eureka Nevada, my aren't we smug?" FAIL. There were no hotels with vacancies in either Eureka Nevada or Austin Nevada, a mere 77 miles away. So we drove on, and on. Arriving at the most beautiful hotel I have ever seen in my life in Ely Nevada. And by beautiful I of course mean that it had a bed and it had a vacancy. I may have frightened the poor man behind the counter a little with my delirious gratefulness I was so happy.
Lesson learned: when you are intending to drive across the vast emptiness of Eastern Nevada, make sure to get hotel reservations. And also, drive the speed limit in Eureka Nevada at night, even if it is 12:30 a.m. The local fuzz just won't stand for 35 in a 25 zone, even if you and said officer are the only people insane enough to be out.
The next day H-man took this photo:
Onward! We stated loudly and to each other stopping only for birding and the occasional pee break. Peschoe Nevada was our first town stop along the way, mostly a ghost town but very beautiful and atmospheric.
the sign at the bottom right says "Been Closed for 50 years"
Very shortly after that we stopped at Cathedral Gorge just out of town. It took me a few minutes to realize that I had visited the gorge many years before when I was living in Needles. My mother and her boyfriend had brought me there while we were visiting the town of Panaca for a highschool football game. I was thrilled once I realized this because I had been amazed at the beauty of the place when I was there 12 years ago and had always wanted to go back but could not remember where this place was. Serendiptious defined.
We spent some time walking in the gorge and reveling in the beauty before we finally had to leave. But not before confusing some random people: As we left the gorge up a staircase, out of breath we passed a couple at the top.
"Is it neat down there?" the woman asked H-man, who was panting
" No, not too much" he replied thinking the woman had asked if there was "heat down there"
"Oh, just the walk then?" she asked looking pretty confused or bewildered
" uh yeah" He looked at her like she was crazy, the look was returned.
So after doing our daily job of confusing people we were on our way again. It was only a short drive to Utah from Panaca.
So there was only one reason we wanted to go through Utah on our way. Not because of it's natural beauty and the friendly people, shit no. We went because we wanted to see FLDS polygamists. H-man has been interested in the culture for several years now and since we had the chance this trip to make our way to Hildale/Colorado City we took the opportunity.
I insisted on stopping through Zion National Park on the way however where we saw our first rattlesnake of the trip-a Western Diamondback as well as some gorgeous natural features.
We made it St. George that afternoon, where we got a hotel, then drove the 1/2 hour out to the site. I didn't get any pictures from that evening but we went back the next day
All the houses are huge and everyone just wants to be left alone. That would pretty much sum up my view of the town. The bulletin board above was posted at the town's grocery store. It was selling rabbits, jeans, cell phones and machinery. We saw very few people when we returned the next day, but the evening before we had seen a very beautiful young girl in the typical dress, except she was wearing jeans underneath it. We also saw a lot of people with cell phones and a lot of cars, many with their windows tinted. We stopped for a spell at the local UEP park where everyone jumped in their vans and trucks and sped off.
An observation: the FLDS wants so much to be disincluded from American tradition and edicts in order to live their own lives and follow their own beliefs. I struck me, however, how much their lifestyle resemble, at least to me, the stereotypical American dream: a home of your own, a close knit, hardworking community and family life, clean living and faith.
After our foray into alternative lifestyles we went on to Silver City via Flagstaff and Springerville. We reached Silver much later than we thought we might, mostly because of our stop at House Rock Arizona and a dinner stop in Flagstaff.
At Silver City we spent quality time with the parents, seeing the local sights, hiking, geocaching and birdwatching. It was wonderful to spend time with them and visit our favorite areas of New Mexico and Arizona.
Then we had to return. We came home through Southern California, Blythe, Needles and Bartsow to be specific. Then up through San Francisco to vist my side of the family, and then home. It's good to be back but I sure love these trips. Visiting religious extremists, confusing tourists, frightening hotel owners and reminding ourselves that there really is no place like Humboldt County. That's a good vacation right there.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Rabbits
One of my many glamorous tasks at work is to groom an English Angora rabbit named Hufflepuff. This picture is not her, but you get the idea. I tried to get around it for about a year by saying I was allergic to her, which I very mildly am, but was called out on this and it is now a daily task. As you might imagine this includes brushing out her fur and clipping her nails, but what you might not want to imagine is me having to wash out her vulva also.
Without getting too graphic, a rabbits vulva has two deep pockets on either side of her external lady bits that collect a great amount of smegma almost daily. I'm getting a little queasy just typing this. Hopefully, you are too, because it's a disgusting job and I should not have to suffer alone.
The worst part? The smell. Sour and cheesy.
So I haven't been to work in two weeks due to an "unpaid furlough" if you will and therefore haven't had to wash rabbit vagina for two whole weeks. Today I ate bagels and cream cheese. Then I went to my OB/GYN appointment this afternoon where I was biting my fingernails and caught a wiff of something familiar, and horrific. My fingers smell like rabbit vagina. I blamed the cream cheese and went and washed my hands. It didn't work very well.
Somewhere, Hufflepuff is laughing.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
One Pissed Off Llama
Inca, the llama at the zoo, is very distrusting and wary of humans. Only three people I know of are able to touch her, myself included.
She got a shot last week.
I don't think she'll be letting anyone touch her anytime soon.
She got a shot last week.
I don't think she'll be letting anyone touch her anytime soon.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The "Magic" of Pregnancy
I almost killed someone today. But I can't be blamed, they totally had it coming.
Most mornings, when I have the car and some extra time, I'll get a half sandwich, some fruit a cookie and a drink from the Co-Op for my work-time feedings. When I got in line, the cashier, an evil, elderly gentleman who, several months ago, I had a conversation about Cliff Bars with, saw me and recognized me. He then picked up the rubber-grocery-delineator from the front of my groceries and placed in between my drink and my cookie, separating the fruit and sandwich. Mother Fucker.
It took all I had to not throttle him.
Then when I got back to the car, I began to eat my sandwich, saw it had too much mustard and started to cry.
Most mornings, when I have the car and some extra time, I'll get a half sandwich, some fruit a cookie and a drink from the Co-Op for my work-time feedings. When I got in line, the cashier, an evil, elderly gentleman who, several months ago, I had a conversation about Cliff Bars with, saw me and recognized me. He then picked up the rubber-grocery-delineator from the front of my groceries and placed in between my drink and my cookie, separating the fruit and sandwich. Mother Fucker.
It took all I had to not throttle him.
Then when I got back to the car, I began to eat my sandwich, saw it had too much mustard and started to cry.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Blasto
Yes, yes. I'm pregnant.
I can't say it came as much of a surprise as we were trying to become pregnant, but I am surprised by the daily rush of panic, misgivings and nausea.
The official due date is December 17th. We think it's a boy but it' s, or course, still early to tell.
Wish me luck.
" So why the picture of the rough skinned newt?" you may be asking yourself, well, H-man is finishing up his projects for the school year and I got to go with him to check on live-traps up in the mountains. When I say I "got to go with him" I of course mean he dragged me out of bed despite my whining and nausea and forced me to have a good time, which I did. Now I have poison oak. See what having a good time will get you?
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Springtime in Humboldt, or, Busy at Work, Busy at Play
Springtime in Humboldt County is one of my favorite times of year. The rainy season has, for the most part, ended so I can walk to work without getting my pants and socks wet. It also means that we are busy at the zoo as many of the schools in the area are on Spring Break which results in tons of visitors.
I think I must be especially lucky to work where I do; not only do I get to work with animals and meet a lot of interesting people every day AND get paid for it, but the zoo is in a beautiful old-growth redwood forest where I retreat for my hour long break, geocaching and meditating.
Every month we get a little pamphlet on how to keep us city employees healthy and motivated. This month the topic was stress reduction. Some tips included:
---Having at least an half-hour exercise session
---Having a place to yourself to meditate and reflect
---A few others that I can't remember at the moment, but also apply to my daily life.
Today, a couple of good friends came to visit me (another perk! having a job where I can socialize and laugh). One is a mommy and brought her adorable son who I got to play with during my break.
I can't see how things could get much better than this. Well, maybe if this was all taking place in New Zealand, I suppose.
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