Visitors' Day at the Institute

Rants From Mommyland Likes Me!

2011-09-20T11:09:00.000-07:00

It's been kind of suck-y week, with things being super-busy at work and at home and me getting hit by the Queen of Cold Viruses. (Thank you, back-to-school-bugs!)

Enter into my life a little sunshine via my favorite blog, Rants From Mommyland, which decided to post a submission I sent them last week, titled, "Domestic Enemy of the Mom with Mixed Race Kids." Honestly, it was something I drafted up for fun during an insomniac evening, highlighting some of the most interesting moments our mixed-race family has experienced. I sent it in, not expecting much of a response, but I was astonished to get an reply from Lydia (of Lydia and Kate fame) THE VERY NEXT DAY indicated that they planned to post it.

To me, Rants From Mommyland captures the joyous highs and hair-pulling lows of parenthood and neatly presents them with amazingly funny artwork (witness the one above, which ran with my post). Some people take parenting way more seriously than I do, and that's fine. I'm not into competitive parenting so I leave that for others.

My philosophy: If the kids are puking while the dog is having an accident, or if you have 12 sugared-up kids bouncing off your walls during a home birthday party while your hubby conveniently lays in bed sick (all true things that have happened here, by the way) ... you might as well laugh. And maybe have some wine. I have long suspected that other moms existed who felt the way I did, and when I discovered Rants from Mommyland, I knew I had found my asylum.

If you haven't checked out Rants From Mommyland, do it now! Now! Before the wine is gone.

Awesome artwork from R ants From Mommyland

After-School Activities, and Other Tall Tales

2011-09-17T18:27:00.000-07:00

The other day I read a blog post suggesting things to do with your kids after school. I had no idea families existed who had so much free time after school that they actually had to create activities such as water-balloon games that you, the parent, would prepare ahead of time by filling up the balloons while the kids are still in school.

One suggestion that struck me as particularly odd, and a little cruel, was having your kids actually search for their snacks after school. You, the parent with nothing better to do, would hide a favorite snack, and then present your children with "clues" so they could have "fun" searching for their provisions.

I don't recall the other suggested activities because, at that point, my eye started twitching and I think my brain exploded a little.

I don't know how it is in your family, but in our little corner of paradise, my kids are STARVING when they get home from school. Ever see those nature videos featuring large predators (picture lions or cheetahs) ripping through their unfortunate prey? You can find that type of action in my kitchen each afternoon.

Therefore, as an act of self-preservation, I do not dare play the "snack-search" game with my progeny, but should I ever be so foolish, I hope you will be quoted saying nice things about me when the article titled "Hungry children acquitted for eating mom" is published.

Would you attempt this game? Why or why not? Do tell.

Top 10 New Year's Resolutions

2010-12-31T00:52:00.000-08:00

I usually don't make resolutions because I consider the entire year ripe for self-improvement. Also I can't remember them past Jan. 2.

But change is good (and large bills are better), so in the spirit of David Letterman's Top 10 list, I will now share my Top 10 Resolutions for 2011.

Resolution #10: I will keep the jokes about writing "2010" on my checks to a minimum. No one finds them amusing.

Resolution #9: I will jot down the names of books that I really enjoyed reading, so the next time I inform someone I am an avid reader, and they ask what I've read recently, my mind won't go blank and I won't appear to be an idiot/liar/dementia candidate.

Resolution #8: I will avoid offering unsolicited advice and I highly recommend that you do the same.

Resolution #7: Floss daily. Oh, wait, I already do that -- RESOLUTION COMPLETED! (It motivates me more to cross at least one thing off the "to-do" list.)

Resolution #6: I will stop asking my children and husband, "Are you really going to wear THAT?" when I already know the answer. The husband will change if it's for work; for any other occasion, he'll laugh as if I made a funny. The kids will look at me, mystified, as if they no longer speak English. Needless to say, they will continue to wear THAT.

Resolution #5: I will stop making Wal-Mart jokes. This one's gonna be hard to keep.

Resolution #4: Speaking of shopping, when going to Costco and Target, I will only buy the necessities on my list, no matter how good a bargain something is. However, this resolution is null and void during the month of December and in the event that something really is a good bargain.

Resolution #3: I will eat healthily to reap the benefits of a nutritious lifestyle and set a good example for my family. However, if I do end up having junk, I'll wait until the kids go to bed so I don't set a bad example (or have to share).

Resolution #2: I will not wait until Super Bowl Sunday to ask of football fans, "Who's playing again?"

Resolution #1: I will not cringe at the thought of hot yoga. This one's gonna be hard to keep.

What are YOU resolving to do in 2011?

(Note: Thanks to the sharp-eyed readers with fully functioning brains who pointed out the year discrepency in my original post. Apparently when I'm tired I forget what year I'm in. So here's an addendum to my resolutions: I will not blog when brain-dead. Happy New Year!)

Jook for a Cold Winter's Day

2010-12-09T20:41:00.000-08:00

Last weekend my husband roasted up some delicious Cornish game hens. After we had stuffed ourselves silly, we were left with a few carcasses that still had attached to them a lot of delicious, hard-to-reach meat.

What to do with them? A hot bowl of jook immediately came to mind, prompted, I'm sure, by the cold winter weather that has hit the Northwest. Jook is a Chinese rice soup/porridge that consists of some very basic items: rice, liquid and any meats or vegetables that the cook wants to throw in there.

In Seattle, you can find jook (also called "congee" in some areas) at the more authentic Chinese restaurants. Some restaurants will offer it during their weekend dim sum service, pushing a large pot of plain jook around on a cart with bowls of sliced green onions and other accompaniments offered on the side.

There's no one correct way of making jook. When I was little, my mom would fill a large stockpot with rice, water, ground beef and finely shredded carrots, and feed the pretty, orange-tinged product to my toddler sisters. It was a nutritious, teething-friendly dish.

With my jook, I threw the game hen carcasses into a stockpot and added two cups of jasmine rice (short-grain white rice makes for a smoother consistency, but I only had jasmine on hand and it worked fine), two cups of water, about 6 cups of organic chicken stock, and three carrots, shredded. I simmered everything for about an hour (some of the liquid I added near the end when the jook looked a little dry), removed the bones/cartilage while leaving in the meat, and added a little soy sauce and pepper.

The resulting warm jook is flavorful, comforting and has a pretty carrot-orange tinge to it, just like my mom's concoctions. We've eaten it for breakfast in lieu of oatmeal, lunch, dinner, snack, etc. There's no wrong time to eat jook. Even my kids (who claim they don't like restaurant jook) have had a few bowls of this.

This would work really well with some white pepper and a few salty peanuts sprinkled on top, but we enjoy it plain, too. I think the big pot of jook will disappear soon, and then it'll be time to roast more birds.

Heavy Heart

2010-11-14T13:52:00.000-08:00

Some good friends of ours are going through hell right now. There is something wrong with their son and they're going through a ton of testing. The diagnosis doesn't look good and, if he does end up with the condition the specialists suspect, there is very little they can do for him and survival is very slim. One of the parents works in the medical field so the process has been less chaotic for them than for someone unfamiliar with the system; however, all that knowledge is little consolation right now.

They know that I'm available should they need anything. For now there's not much we can do other than wait. Gotta go give my kids a hug now.

Cooking With the Queen of Improv

2010-11-09T20:48:00.000-08:00

One thing I dislike about being a busy mom (wait, "busy mom" is a redundant term, right?) is the fact that I don't get a lot of time to try out new recipes, let alone go shopping for special items that I normally don't stock in my bulging pantry. So when I see a recipe I like, I become the Queen of Improv. Sometimes the results are delicious; sometimes they're comically bad. Fortunately, they're often good enough to cancel out the bad.

I was inspired by reading this great article in Sunday's Seattle Times about cooking with local seasonal produce. The article includes a great recipe for Farfalle pasta with pine nuts, currants and kale. It sounded delicious and, as we do not eat kale on a regular basis, I marched down to my local grocers to pick up a large bunch of organic kale. I was surprised by how reasonably priced it was, about $3 for a HUGE bunch.

Of course, I was so busy with other "to-do's" that I didn't manage to pick up the rest of the ingredients. So tonight, during a busy weekday evening, I decided to do the Improv using substitute ingredients I already had. I used chopped walnuts instead of pine nuts, raisins instead of currants and (the biggest difference) spaghetti noodles instead of farfalle (or bowtie) pasta. I also used more garlic than the recipe called for, as our family subscribes to the "if-four-cloves-are-good-then-six-is-better" school of thought.

"What's for dinner?" the kids asked.

"Spaghetti with kale, garlic, walnuts and raisins!" I announced, with just the right amount of enthusiasm - enough to try to get them excited but not enough to make them suspicious.

Silence. "Um, that sounds interesting," said my son cautiously.

The results? It was delicious and the whole family enjoyed it. The toasted walnuts and thin slices of sauteed kale gave a nice crunch to the noodles, and the raisins' sweetness balanced the kale's peppery bitterness quite effectively. I believe some family members went back for seconds and both kids asked me to make it again. Ding, ding, ding -- WINNER!

One of these days I may try to find time to follow the recipe exactly so it'll look as pretty as the Seattle Times photo below. Until then, I am still unashamedly and unabashedly the Queen of Improv.

Photo from The Seattle Times

Most Amazing Mom

2010-11-04T10:17:00.000-07:00

A friend turned me on to this this amazing blog post, in which a mom discusses her preschool-aged son's experiences dressing up as Daphne from "Scooby Doo" for Halloween.

What a ballsy woman she is to allow him to be what he wanted to be and to stand up to the judgemental comments other parents made. I am amazed by how threatened people can be by something that goes outside of THEIR concepts of "normal." People, it's a preschool Halloween party, not the Pride Parade. Wish they had kept their mouths shut. As the saying goes: Opinions are like assholes - Everyone's got one, and they all stink. (Or something like that.)

I remember being very sad when my son learned about "acceptable" gender roles. He loved the color pink until kindergarten, when he informed me that it was a color for girls. He also gave me a listing of which toys were for boys and which ones for girls. Why do we teach boys that it's NOT acceptable for them to play with dolls, yet it's okay for girls to play with toy cars? (And as the parent of both a boy and girl, I'm glad girls have a lot more leeway with "acceptable" toys nowadays, but I don't think it's fair that this doesn't work both ways.)

Just because a little boy wants to dress up as a girl doesn't make him gay. I have never worried about my son turning into a real pumpkin, Teletubbie, skeleton, clown or Darth Vader.

And if the little boy in the blog turns out to be gay, so what? As a mom, I would prefer that my kids be straight, if only for the reason that life is so much harder when your private preferences cause you to be shunned socially and banned from legally marrying. However, if I had to pick between a gay adult child who was emotionally healthy and had happy monogamous relationships versus a straight adult child who slept with everyone and ended up on a "Girls/Boys Gone Wild" DVD, guess which one I'd pick?

Photo from Nerdy Apple Bottom

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-30T00:29:00.000-07:00

It is impossible to escape Halloween when you have two kids, so in the spirit of "If-you-can't-beat-'em-join-'em," each year at this time we eat way too much candy, carve faces into pumpkins and scare ourselves silly with movies we love.

I love movies that combine horror with sick humor (see my previous post about Leprechaun). My current favorite is Zombieland (see movie clip above), a 2009 release about four eccentric individuals who have to band together for survival after a zombie infestation has left the U.S. looking like a Michael Jackson video.

College student "Columbus" is neurotic and has managed to survive by following a hilarious set of rules, such as "cardio" (stay in shape so you can outrun the zombies), "double tap" (when you shoot a zombie, shoot it a second time just to make sure it's completely dead), "fasten seatbelt" (because you never know when you'll get into an accident driving away from the zombies) and "don't be a hero" (self-explanatory.) He encounters "Tallahassee," a free-living wild man on a quest to eat a Twinkie before the last batches on Earth go bad. They eventually encounter "Wichita" and "Little Rock," two crafty sisters who are bent on survival at all costs and not looking to team up with anyone.

There is some wickedly funny dialogue and situations in this movie, including a hilarious cameo by a celebrity who plays himself. This flick definitely gets your adrenaline up as you are torn between the tension of watching the main characters try to avoid getting eaten and laughing hysterically at the same time.

What scary movies do you like?

My New Fight Song (Warning: Potty Humor!)

2010-10-09T17:27:00.001-07:00

I should not find this song amusing at all, for I have traveled the world, lived many adventures and cultivated a sophistication that makes me a legend in my own mind. However, Hawaii song man Jimmy Borges does sing about "nuts," and that makes giggle.

Kukui High School is a fictitious school that has been referred to in the new "Hawaii 5-0" series. The Kukui is a nut that has many useful applications, among them lamp oil, medicine and necklace adornment.

Capitalizing on this new development, someone created a new Kukui High School Web ("Home of the Fighting Nuts") Web site, accompanied by its own Facebook and Twitter page. Me likey! It's like the high school I always wanted to attend, full of funny people and alumni who are, like me, simply nuts.

Seriously, it's also really fun to see how many site visitors post comments and enjoy sharing their pretend "memories" of the old alma mater. It's also another example of how the Internet can create community and liven up people's days.

I don't think I remember my old high school song, for which I am very ashamed. So I have decided to adopt the Kukui High version. Any school song that includes the line "Raise your nuts up to the sky" is one that I can remember and, therefore, fully meets my musical criteria.

In fact, I think they should update a few classic songs with that line, just to liven them up and make them more memorable. Here are a few selections:

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear [insert name here], RAISE YOUR NUTS UP TO THE SKY.

Frosty the Snowman had to hurry on his way, but he waved goodbye, saying "Don't you cry," RAISE YOUR NUTS UP TO THE SKY.

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop, when the winds blows, RAISE YOUR NUTS UP TO THE SKY.

You get the picture.

Did Someone Say 'Bacon?'

2010-10-06T20:34:00.001-07:00

Blame it on a lack of imagination, but I have never once taken a bite of delicious chocolate and thought, "You know this needs? BACON."

Thank goodness more creative minds than mine work at Vosges, which created Mo's Dark Bacon Bar, a combination of 62 percent dark chocolate, alder wood-smoked bacon and alder wood-smoked salt, according to the company Web site. (There's also a milk chocolate version, which I haven't tried.)

It's a very intriguing idea, combining the the sharp sweetness of dark chocolate with the smokiness of the bacon and the light tingling from the salt.

"I don't taste the bacon, but I taste the smokiness," said a friend/guinea pig who was offered the first bite. I concurred, but upon further sampling (and for research purposes only, I consumed the rest of the bar myself), I could also pick up the crispy texture of the bacon, which was just assertive enough to make its presence known but not overpowering.

It's pretty yummy, but with a $7.50 retail price, it's not yum-yum enough to be a regular part of my chocolate repertoire. Not when I have a Frost Doughnuts, with its awe-inspiring Smokey Bacon Maple Bar, just minutes from my door.

As you might have deduced, I have quite the liking for bacon.

Bottom photo courtesy www.frostology.com

I'm Somebody Now!

2010-10-01T18:05:00.000-07:00

In the 1979 comedy "The Jerk," there's a scene in which Steve Martin's country-bumpkin character move to the city, gets a job delivering phone books, discovers his name listed in a book, and shouts, "I'm somebody now!"

That is exactly how I feel being featured as September's Commenter of the Month on the most excellent of blogs, House of Annie.

(On a side note, my dear husband, the Silent Swede, was very amused when I broke the news to him. "I don't actually comment on blogs THAT much," I explained defensively. "Sure," he said, and went back to chuckling in his Silent Swede way.)

I mentioned House of Annie last year in this post but want to tell you again how much I enjoy this blog! Married couple Nate and Annie capture their culinary adventures as they cook and eat their way into your hearts. I started reading their blog when they lived in California and it has only gotten spicier (literally) and more adventurous now that they live in Annie's native Malaysia. The photography is outstanding (and makes me a little ashamed of the stuff I snap with my iPhone) and the writing is descriptively fun.

It's high-quality food porn. In fact, should you happen to stand outside my home office window and hear me moaning and muttering, "Oh, that's SO good," and "Please, don't stop," chances are I'm visiting House of Annie.

Turns out that Nathan is from my home-turf of Hawaii. He and Annie met while students at the University of Hawaii, my alma mater. Their blog's August Commenter of the Month, the awesome Ben from Cooking With the Single Guy, also is from Hawaii. We Hawaii peeps are all over the place and we rock!

Well, they rock. I'm still working on it.

Thanks for the shout-out, Nate and Annie!

Show Me the Asian!

2010-09-29T23:08:00.000-07:00

While many of my friends and family would swear that I'm from another planet, I'm actually Asian-American, having been born to two people who hail from mainland China. I think if you turn my parents upside down, you might see the "Made in China" stamp imprinted on the soles of their feet.

There are some Asians who try to downplay their heritage and act as "white" as possible. They're called "bananas," which means they're white on the inside and yellow on the outside. Needless to say, this is usually not a term of endearment.

I believe there were probably phases in my life during which I was banana-like, as I tried to navigate the social hurdles that many children of immigrants go through as they try to find their place in a new society. But one of the benefits of being in your 30s (okay, 40s, dammit) is that, as I get older, I JUST DON'T GIVE A RIP about what other people think of me.

Being Asian is actually kind of fun now. In addition to all the obvious stuff, like being able to order off a Chinese menu, you can get away with telling certain ethnic jokes and pretending not to speak English if you don't want to bother with those pushy kiosk people at the mall. Rest assured that I am very selective about playing the Asian card. I haven't used it to get out of any legal scrapes, nor do I pretend to be good with math and computers. But I might do both, if necessary.

I've been enjoying some awesome sites that discuss being Asian. One of them, Disgrasian, is thought-provoking and funny. The others just make me laugh my butt off. I hope you check them out. You don't have to be Asian to you enjoy them. But if you ARE Asian, you get better service and fresher postings. (Shhhh ... Don't tell the non-Asians.)

kevjumba - The video shown above is from kevjumba, a site in which thoroughly American Kevin and his thoroughly Asian dad share their cultural and age differences. There's some good-natured trash-talking between the two, but the obvious affection (and bemusement) they have for each other is very sweet. BONUS: They are also a team competing in this season's "Amazing Race!" When they introduced this team during last Sunday's season premier episode I nearly screamed like a little girl-groupie.

Disgrasian - Jen and Diana, the creators and co-authors, blog about current events and culture. Learn more about the Asians they like (musicians, civil rights leaders) and the Asians they boo (Tila Tequila). It's relevant and really funny. When I grow up I want to be like them.

The Busy Dad Blog - Okay, this isn't really a blog about being Asian. But creator and author Jim is Asian-American and is way too funny with prose and video as he highlights the adventures of parenting. Non-parents would enjoy this blog, too. The night I nearly fell out of my chair laughing as he demonstrated how to determine the trajectory of flying poop in his daughter's crib using forensics techniques commonly seen on "CSI" was the night that I realized that this was a blog I MUST bookmark.

My Mom is a FOB and High Expectations Asian Father - Yes, I can relate! This is what Asian-Americans discuss when complaining about their parents. You MIGHT have to be Asian to find the humor in these two sites, but maybe I'm wrong. Non-Asian peeps, let me know.

Magical Mochi

2010-09-21T21:11:00.000-07:00

Before photographing my homemade mochi, I had planned to artfully arrange the pieces on a pretty platter and set it somewhere with great lighting before taking a shot. Then I left the room and, when I returned, the mochi fairies had taken off with nearly half the batch, so I was left a few lonely pieces in a Tupperware container. And the constant battle between aesthetics vs. real life continues.

For the unfortunate few who don't know mochi, it's made of rice flour mixed with some type of liquid and has a slightly chewy, sticky texture. In Japanese culture people will get together for mochi-pounding rituals, which can take hours and is quite physical. A lot of places that sell mochi commercially roll it into balls with sweet bean filling in the middle, while other bake it. My niece and her fellow Seattle Pacific University co-conspirators have even found a way to microwave the stuff and roll it into their own creations.

I can't get enough of the stuff, having grown up eating it in Hawaii, where the mochi supply is plentiful and you can even buy packages of it at some drugstores (next to the sushi and Spam).

With all respect to all those crafty college mochi-nukers, I believe I have the easiest mochi recipe EVER, which I got off the Aloha World Web site. Simply titled "Coconut Mochi," submitted by Keoki (mahalo, Keoki!) it involves very basic ingredients mixed together and a quick bake in the oven. The hardest part is waiting for it to cool off so you can cut it into pieces.

You can find the recipe here. For my batch, I also added a few drops of green food coloring for the pretty-factor. Also, if you've never used mochiko (rice flour), check the Asian-foods aisle of your supermarket (or your closest Asian supermarket, if you're lucky enough to have one) and look for it in a small box.

Enjoy!

Kaiten at the Mall

2010-09-10T18:18:00.000-07:00

There aren't too many decent culinary selections at your typical suburban mall. I could get a greasy slice of pizza or a hot dog on a stick. Or, as I live near an upscale "destination village-style" mall, I could also pay for overpriced, badly cooked, faux-Chinese fare, flanked by a bunch of stone soldier that the corporate offices purchase by the boatload.

Fortunately, our mall also has a Blue C Sushi, a local chain (Yes, I said chain!) that offers sushi kaiten-style, on a rotating belt. You just grab the dishes that you want when they reach you and, at the end of your meal, they tally the number of dishes and colors (each color indicates a certain price) to determine the damage. Servers will bring you special items such as miso soup, beverages and anything that's on the menu but not available on the belt. I'm sure it's not "authentic," but the chefs yell out greetings and the food is tasty, quick and reasonably priced. And personally, I find that a lot more appetizing than that hot dog on a stick.

Today I ordered miso soup (note the big western-style bowl with a SPOON), pretty standard stuff, a little salty but very warm and comforting on a rainy Northwest day. To its left is a shrimp tempura roll, very nicely done with the shrimp still retaining its light and crispy tempura coating and the rice cooked and cooled to a really good texture, one that has enough stickiness and tenderness but also has a bite to it.

One of my favorites, the eel nigiri. A great thing about kaiten is that you can eyeball the food before you decide whether to select it. Is the eel size to your liking? Is it grilled to the proper brown hue while still retaining a slight sheen of moisture? Then, yes, I shall select you today, for here at the kaiten, I make the decisions, damnit!

Behind the eel is spinach gomai, two compact towers of cooled blanched spinach sitting in a nice shoyu and sesame glaze. I like to break up the spinach towers with my chopsticks and just dredge it all in that delicious, slightly thick sauce.

I tried a new dish today, the flying fish roe gunkan, which was comprised of a big serving of roe on top of rice. You can't tell from this photo, but the roe was bright bloody red; it was so beautiful I decided to call it dessert. While I loved the contrast of textures (the crunch of fish eggs with the chewy stickiness of the rice), the roe didn't have the clean briny flavor I've become accustomed to with roe. It was a kind of muddy briny flavor and tasted like a combination of salt water (good) and dirt (bad). I'm still glad I tried it, though.

Do you ever eat at the mall? If so, what do you like? Be honest!

My Favorite Holiday

2010-09-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

This coming Wednesday, you'll find me celebrating my favorite time of the year, a day so anticipated by many that it even beats Christmas and even the annual February white sales: Back-to-school time!

Our district's summer vacation begins and start late, so I know there are many parents across our great nation who have already commemorated this special day, swept up their tinsel and returned to their normal lives.

Every summer begins the same way: Miss Thang and Junior Rocker (who, at 13, is now old enough to shed the moniker of Pre-pubescent rocker) are overjoyed by the much-needed break from busy school and extracurricular activities. They are full of plans to hang out with friends, learn new hobbies and use the time for improvement. Junior Rocker announced he planned to go for a run every day.

Soon the plans fall by the wayside and I end up trying to get my part-time work done while also wearing a variety of other hats, such as:

Food-Chain Supplier -- (Them: "We have nothing to eat." Me: "I just shopped at Costco." Them: "But I don't like any of these foods.")

Julie McCoy, Activities Director -- (Me: "Time to get off the computer/TV/iPod touch/DS." Them: "But there's nothing to do." Me: "You have a ton of friends who live in the neighborhood and it's a nice day. Go get them and play." Them: "But that's too haaaaaard."

Pushy coach -- (Me: "Weren't you planning to run every day?" Junior Rocker: "It's too hot/cold/rainy/looks like rain. And I haven't practiced trombone yet." Me: "So when are you practicing trombone?" JR: "As soon as I'm done with this game."

Less you think of me as an unfeeling workaholic who dumps her lonely children in an attic for several months and forces them to find entertainment in a piece of string, I will have you know that I drop whatever I'm doing to take them places. I buy water balloons. I offer to chaperone small parties of children while they run around the back yard, screaming, dripping Otter Pops and irritating the dog, and by the end of this magical time, all kids are ACCOUNTED FOR and STILL ALIVE.

It's not all dark clouds and complaints: I've enjoyed having my kids home. Truly. No trip to Vegas could overshadow the joy of a lazy afternoon spent with my kids while eating ice cream, swimming, or going berry-picking. It's been FUN, FUN, FUN, but I'm ready for a break from all that fun now.

If you'll excuse me, I have decorations to put up before Wednesday and maybe bake a celebratory pie. I wonder if Hallmark has any event-appropriate card I can send to other parents. While I'm sure they don't have anything for back-to-school festivities, maybe a card stating "Congratulations on your parole!" or "Hope you find peace" could be appropo. Thoughts?

Secret Santa

2009-12-12T15:42:00.000-08:00

Thank you and mahalo, Secret Santa from Idaho!

Death and Love

2009-10-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

For some reason I've been hearing a lot recently about people who have unexpectedly lost their loved ones.

My youngest, Miss Thang, has a very tender heart. Whenever someone we know dies, be it four-legged, two-legged or finned, she always asks me if I'm ever going to die. And I have to tell her that everyone dies, although I don't plan to die for a very long time.

But I also let her know that none of us can control when we die, and the best thing to do to deal with that is to love each other as much as we can while we're still here. While we can't control the world, we CAN control how we love others, so that's what we do.

Photo by Rena Marou for openphoto.net

Happy Birthday, Barcode!

2009-10-06T23:42:00.000-07:00

Let me beat you to it: I am a geek. Not one of those genius geeks who make their fortunes coding the Next Great Application, but one of those geeks who enjoy spending quality time doing things no normal person would find interesting, such as wishing the barcode a happy birthday.

According to Wikipedia and a few other sites, the first bar code was patented on Oct. 7, 1952. Granted, it looked a bit different from the ones we recognize nowadays and the technology for its modern use didn't come into play until much later. But it was a barcode all the same and I applaud its inventors.

Other than serving as a quick identifier for almost everything we buy nowadays, the barcode also serves to entertain me. I found a really cool Web page that shows you how to read a barcode and have spent at least the last half-hour practicing my new skills on items from my pantry. I think my eyeballs are ready fall out of their sockets now. Good times.

Try it yourself, if you dare, and go to http://electronics.howstuffworks.com/gadgets/high-tech-gadgets/upc3.htm. Tell your eyeballs to get over it.

Because I'm Easily Entertained, That's Why

2009-09-30T00:03:00.000-07:00

Where's Blog Blockwatch When You Need It?

2009-09-26T00:03:00.000-07:00

There are so many wicked-awesome blogs out there. (Um, besides this one, of course.)

I'm a glutton for outstanding photos, interesting stories, descriptive writing and humor. When I find these qualities in a blog, I am all over it, like a stalker, but one who lacks the free time to actually stalk. (Oh, wait, that's called a fan.) Sometimes I am inspired to emulate them, but one thing I would never want to do is rip off their postings and present them as my own.

This has happened to an outstanding blog called House of Annie, where foodies Nate and Annie post mouth-watering photos of foods they enjoy as well as share some really interesting cultural stories, as they have recently moved from California to Malaysia, Annie's home turf. The writing is terrific, and to call the photos food porn is an understatement, kind of like saying Deep Throat was just another dirty movie. (Disclaimer: I never actually watched Deep Throat but I HEARD -- that's right, I HEARD -- that it set the benchmark for many porns after that. Don't judge me.)

So you can imagine how incensed I was when I visited their blog tonight and found this entry, in which they detail how another blog re-posted a House of Annie posting (verbiage AND photos) and passed it off as its own, which is kind of hard to do when Nate and Annie's trademark is on each of the photos. The blog-thieves even changed internal links to point to their own site.

Personally, I think that in the time it took to do all that copying, they could have done something more original, like create their own blog entry about blog-thievery with a cute little graphic of a thief stealing something. And maybe reference Deep Throat. I'm just sayin'.

So what have we learned here? Plagiarism is BAD. Nate and Annie put their copywrite on all their blog photos and that is SMART. I'm obviously way out-of-touch when it comes to porn titles. And Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches are surprisingly yummy. (Guess what I had for dessert?)

Oh, yes, I also learned a very cute new haiku, created by Nate and intended for the blog-thief:

I wish you would get

A hundred thousand bug bites

Where the sun don't shine

See? I copied his haiku. But I used attribution. So there.

Under the "Good Intentions" Heading

2009-09-15T20:55:00.000-07:00

Aren't they precious? The Lil' Drums are just as yummy as the original-sized Drumsticks, and they are the perfect-sized portion, except for people like me and my if-one-is-good-another-would-be-better congregation.

They really help me in teaching my kids the importance of portion control. Then, after the little darlings have learned this important nutritional lesson, they will go to bed and I can help myself to another crispy sweet cone of dreamy goodness.

Years ago I used to bake tiny little cookies, just smaller-sized versions of the original recipe, for portion control. And guess what? I'd eat twice as many. So now I bake cookies as big as they were meant to be baked and I just eat one or two.

Portion control definitely has its place in our daily nutrition, but leave my ice cream alone.

Happy Fourth of July!

2009-07-03T15:32:00.000-07:00

So here's how we'll be commemorating our country's independence:

nearly 16 pounds of ribs
hot dogs, salmon burgers and all the buns that accompany them
one giant watermelon
assorted soft drinks, juices, bottled water, wine and bottled sangria
chips and dips
coleslaw fixings
veggie platter
a variety of poppers and sparklers (none of the heavier stuff because our city doesn't allow them and we're wusses)
many, many friends in our tiny back yard

Do you think we're doing enough to help stimulate the economy?

Hope you all have a great Fourth of July weekend. Stay safe and don't lose any fingers!

And to Seattleites who are thinking of hitting Gas Works park for the fireworks show, don't say I didn't warn you: Click here and bring your bathroom supplies.

R.I.P. Famous and Not-So-Famous

2009-06-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

TV Sidekick Extraordinaire

Blond Bombshell Turned Serious Actress

Top-Selling Singer and Pop Icon

Super-Volume Pitchman

I understand that celebrities and public figures are people, too. They are someone's child, sibling, friend, lover and sometimes parent. Many times, they also represent a crucial period of our lives, so not only do we mourn their passing, we mourn the passing of a key part of ourselves or cherished memories we wish we could revive. I totally get that.

I only hope that we don't get so busy mourning famous people that we forget about others who have made a difference but didn't get as much fanfare. People like Neda Soltani, who became well-known only after being shot and killed in the streets of Tehran while marching for democracy. People like Joseph Cannon Houghteling, a political and environmental activist who devoted his life to public service. People like Dr. Jerri Nielsen FitzGerald, the doctor who diagnosed and treated her own breast cancer before a dramatic rescue at the South Pole in 1999, and who went on to spend her last decade of life speaking out about her cancer and working as a roving ER doctor at hospitals all over the Northeast.

They died recently, too. They may not have sang the songs from my formative years and they may not bring back memories of a more innocent time for me, but they left their marks on this world and I mourn them.

Leave the Flying to the Birds

2009-06-19T09:17:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a really fun two-day business trip in Tennessee and North Carolina. Met some very interesting people, learned a lot about my client product and ate much catered-event food that was surprisingly delicious for catered-event food. Part of my trip included taking a scenic drive from Knoxville to Asheville and then through the beautiful winding Blue Ridge mountain roads of North Carolina. (I must Google "Pigsah," which was one of the areas we drove through and whose name caused us much mirth.)

The only part I didn't enjoy was the flying. The last time I traveled for business was before all the security precautions resulting from 9/11, that blissfully innocent era when you (and your unticketed companions) could get through security an hour before your scheduled flight with your shoes intact and bringing through as many liquid as you could carry, not just the quart-sized bag of 3 oz.-or-less containers.

Business flying just sucks. It sucks when you're flying on vacation, too, but at least you check your bags for that and you'll be at your destination much longer so you can kind of justify the inconvenience at the airport. Yes, yes, I know it's all for the common good of homeland security and I appreciate not having a terrorist on my flight. But when you're supposed to be on a two-day business trip and it takes you three days (nearly four if I hadn't miraculously been able to snag a last-minute vacant seat in Asheville, and that's a different story altogether) with all the flying and connecting and security precautions and what-not, well ... Let's just say I am very thankful for phone and Web conferences. It's great to go on location and learn things first-hand, but there's a lot to be said for being able to attend meetings while sitting comfortably in your office chair with a cup of coffee and having all the legroom you want.

Post-note: I googled "Pigsah" and apparently it's not Pig-sah but Pis-gah. It's a large national forest featuring many waterfalls and hiking trails and there is a local college institute with the same name that helps provides environmental education for students grades K-12 using the forest as a laboratory. I (and my co-driver) could have sworn the signs said Pig-sah. Now I feel bad that we giggled. Boo to me.

Time to Make the Donuts

2009-06-04T23:08:00.000-07:00

I've been away for a while and I'm sure my three blog visitors probably missed me a bit. I would like to say that I've been traveling the world but, truth be told, I have a new part-time job that has taken me away from my Internet recreation world.

I'm not complaining because I really like my new job, working about 20 hours a week as a media coordinator for a small consulting firm. Basically what I do is try to get our clients' activities out to the media and try to convince publications, TV/radio stations and Web sites to post the info. It's interesting work and I totally get to use my degree and past journalism/PR background. I also like the people I work with and they are very flexible about letting me work from home. Considering the economy right now, the fact that I didn't even apply for this job (it was word-of-mouth) is mind-boggling.

There is one complaint I have to make and then I will shut up. Having been a stay-at-home mom and infrequent substitute schools staffer for the past few years, working 20 hours a week is kind of hard. Yeah, I know that people working 40+ hours (which I used to do) want to punch people like me in the mouth when they hear that type of complaint. The challenge is balancing my work hours with my second job, which is being a mom to two active young kids. This week, between PTA and band concert and ballet recital rehearsals, I rarely had an evening free.

Now that I've gotten that little whine out of my system, let me just say that I'm quite pleased to be working again and stimulating different parts of my brain. Oh, yeah, and getting paid is nice, too.

(The photo of the gnome above has nothing to do with my new job. My friend Jennifer spotted it while taking a walk and it made her think of me so she took its picture. That's right, the sight of a squatting gnome with its pants pulled down reminded her of me. Are my friends great or what?)

Swine Flu This

2009-04-30T20:33:00.000-07:00

I am sick of hearing about the swine flu.

There, I've said it. While I certainly don't discount its seriousness and the suffering of those who've contracted it, I have been hearing about it nearly 24/7 for the past few days. And I don't even watch cable news.

A kid from the morning bus stop is home sick this week because of a stomach bug, according to her mom. "Have you heard about the swine flu?" whisper the other grownups. Today, while helping a friend get ready for a garage sale, a child sneezes. "Wash your hands!" someone calls out. I certainly hope all that tree pollen that covered my parked vehicle this afternoon doesn't turn out to contain life-threatening airborne pathogens.

How about if we stay on top of the swine flu updates no more than three times a day and then spend some time discussing something else? I am happy to discuss any other topic: the economy, vasectomies, movies, religion, even other current events (for they do exist). Public hysteria is just so tiring.

Mrs. Puff, I Presume

2009-04-27T09:19:00.000-07:00

I'm happy to report that my surgery for dental implants went fine and I'm recovering with very little discomfort. The only drawback is that my post-op meds make me tired and lightheaded, which sucks when you have the rare sunny weekend we had. But such is life. (See, I'm being zen!)

Disappointingly, I have experienced no black, hairy tongue from my penicillin. However, a different side effect is that my jaw is still a little swollen, making my regular moon-pie face look even bigger. Every time I look in the mirror, I think of Mrs. Puff, a puffer fish character from SpongeBob SquarePants, one of my kid's favorite TV shows.

Then the theme song begins in my mind: "Ohhhhh ... Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? ...."

I am easily amused, but you knew that.

Black, Hairy Tongue

2009-04-22T10:55:00.000-07:00

If you should see someone sporting a black, hairy tongue anytime soon, come up and say hello. It might be me.

The story: I am scheduled to have two dental implants put in this week. Right now I am missing two molars due a very complicated medical condition known as "bad teeth," so my oral surgeon will be placing two metal screws (i.e. dental implants) inside my jaw. Feel free to insert your own "loose-screw" jokes here.

The surrounding bones will form a bond with the implants and, once that process is done in a few months, my family dentist will add a post and crown on top of it. Then -- voila! -- I shall have teeth again, which means I won't have to learn to play the banjo or start producing moonshine in my back yard.

Medical advances continue to amaze me and, as someone with bad teeth AND gums, I appreciate the fact that I live in a country where I have access to these advances, as opposed to some third-world country. Or England.

But back to the black, hairy tongue. This is actually listed as a potential side effect for the penicillin I will need to take after the surgery to ward off infection. I am one of those people who read the side effect warnings on all drugs and usually scan through them automatically, but I do believe this may be the first time the phrase "black, hairy tongue" has come across my radar.

I'm kind of intrigued. Images of Cousin Itt from the Addams Family series come to mind. I'll keep you posted if I start to resemble him. Or her. Or it.

An Open Letter

2009-04-19T13:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Military School:

My 12-year-old son would make an excellent candidate for your fine institution. First of all, he is academically advanced and has no police record. His teachers report that he is a joy to teach, full of good ideas and leadership skills.However, at home he is surly, lazy, dirty, sloppy, argumentative and too many other adjectives to list. We are currently in the processing of confiscating his electronic entertainment and he is getting THIS close to being grounded. We almost banned him from going to his good friend's birthday party this afternoon but then realized we would be stuck with him instead, so we are making an exception, especially since the party is five hours long. (Dancing happy jig.)

We know he is going through a typical adolescent phase and will probably grow up to be an upstanding citizen. Until then, I think he (and our mental health) would really benefit from the discipline meted out at your school. He could still come home for summer breaks (maybe) and all major holidays.

In payment for your services, he could help you troubleshoot your computers; help link up all Wi-Fi enabled devices; share his thoughts and opinions on how other people aren't very smart and are doing things the wrong way; instruct you on which things are "lame" and entertain younger students by coordinating bike races, which he does with the neighbors. You don't need to keep him very long. Maybe five years or so.

Thank you in advance for accepting him!

Stupid Things I've Done While Caffeine-Deprived

2009-04-08T21:39:00.000-07:00

No one loves caffeine more than I. It is how I managed to graduate from college, stay awake at various jobs and remember my children's names. Usually I only need 2-3 strong cups each day to keep going but heaven help those around me if I have to go without.

Some people have headaches when they're deprived of caffeine. Me, I just do stupid things, and I thought I'd share some of them with you, since I have no pride.

Once I congratulated a woman I hadn't seen in a while on her obvious pregnancy. She informed me that she wasn't pregnant and asked, bewildered, if I thought she looked fat. While honesty is usually the best policy, it wasn't in this case, so I just apologized and mumbled something about my vision not working properly without caffeine.

I have forgotten my husband's very complicated name while introducing him to others. His name is Pete.

I have forgotten my own name.

I have sent my kids to school with festively colored hard-boiled eggs for lunch, only to realize by mid-morning that they weren't hard-boiled, or even cooked properly. (On the bright side, I think I gave the school secretary a good chuckle as she relayed this message to their teachers.)

I have driven 30 minutes in heavy traffic in the pouring rain for an appointment, only to arrive and realize I had the wrong day.

A few times I have poured myself a cup of coffee and couldn't remember if I took cream and sugar.

And the most shameful one just happened recently. I used to work with a fun gal with the first initial "J" who had pixy-ish reddish hair and a great smile. "J" and I have kept in touch via e-mail these past few years. A few days ago, someone requested to be my Facebook friend. Her profile showed that she had the first initial "J" and had pixy-ish reddish hair and a great smile. I sent her a message asking who she was.

At least "J" was amused.

My New Crack: Theo Chocolate

2009-04-05T16:13:00.000-07:00

When I die I want my ashes to be scattered at 3400 Phinney Avenue North in the Fremont neighborhood of Seattle so I can be close to the Theo Chocolate factory and store.

My first introduction to Theo came from a gift of their Nib Brittle Dark Chocolate bar, which is comprised of heavenly smooth dark chocolate and roasted bits of cocoa nibs. The texture is similar to eating a slightly crunchier Crunch bar, but the flavor is a trillion times better. (And I do mean a trillion, so don't try to debate me on that, math geeks. You know who you are.)

When out-of-town family members visited recently, we decided to take a tour of the factory, which a friend had highly recommended. Alas, the tour was completely booked but the friendly gal on the phone invited us to visit their store to try some of their chocolate samples. Anyone who knows me and my family know that, if you promise us free samples of anything, we will follow you like the lemmings that we are.

We rushed over to their small but well laid-out shop and spent the next hour in chocolate-sample-heaven.

Where to begin? Well, first of all, Theo Chocolates uses only cocoa-related products that are organic and obtained using fair-trade practices, all of which means zilch to me if the end product doesn't deliver.

But it does deliver, happily. We started with samples of Theo Origins Bars, chocolate bars that feature the flavor notes of cocoa beans from different parts of the world. The cacao content ranged from 65 to 91 percent. It was a lot of fun trying each one to find a favorite and the resulting cacao buzz put us in a very good mood indeed.

We moved on the Theo Classic Combination Bars, which combines dark chocolate with the following flavors: mint, orange and cherries with almonds. I thought the chocolate-mint combinatation was fine, although the strong taste of the spearmint and peppermint oils reminded me of minty toothpaste. However, I am also a person who doesn't enjoy peppermint tea for the reason, so if you like peppermint tea, I think you would adore this bar. The chocolate-orange combination was delicious, with a fresh orange taste that I thought complemented and did not overpower the taste of the chocolate.

I absolutely fell in love with the chocolate-cherry-almond combination, which features small bits of chewy dried cherries and crunchy roasted almonds. At first bite, you feel the textures of smooth, chewy and crunchy all at once. Then the dark chocolate hits you like an exclamation point and leaves you wanting more. Right now, the Dark Chocolate with Cherries and Almonds bar, which I shall call "crack" for short, is my favorite. I bought a lot of this, but much of my stash is already gone and I wonder if I'll get the violent shakes when my crack supply runs out.

We then moved on to the most fun of all chocolate bars, the Theo 3400 Phinney bars, which are milk and dark chocolates combined with a ton of unique ingredients such as coffee (double crack!), chai spices, hazelnut brittle, the aforementioned cocoa nibs and the wildest flavor of all ... coconut curry! Who was the genius who said, "Hey, let's combine milk chocolate with coconut and curry spices!"? The Coconut Curry bar tastes AMAZING, like a gentle Thai curry with the spices all mellowed out by the milky flavor of chocolate. I purchased a few bars of this as well and am saving them for a day when I feel like having my brain explode with wonderment.

To be honest, after this point everything else started to blend together. I liken it to the numbness your tongue feels at a wine tasting after you're already tasted and spat out four wines. Or it could have been the effects of cacao hitting my bloodstream and making me hyper-alert to everything, including the sound of my own breathing. This is why I will soon make a return trip to the store, so I can re-taste the chocolates and make further notes. The sacrifice I make for research is mind-boggling.

Theo Chocolate
3400 Phinney Avenue North
Seattle, WA 98103
Phone: 206.632.5100

(The very friendly Theo employees I spoke to recommend calling for tour reservations at least one week in advance.)

Photo/www.theochocolate.com

More WTF, Now With Antioxidants!

2009-03-28T23:53:00.000-07:00

Has antioxidants kicked flax off the health-food-fad bandwagon? Flax totally deserved it after giving soy milk a major ass-whoopin'. I hear that soy milk is banding together with the Atkins diet for a diabolical scheme to get back on top. But they’ll have to kick and scratch at gingko biloba, which didn’t get to enjoy its 15 minutes and is now seeking vengeance.

Ginseng is watching this folly from the sidelines and laughing at it all. Ginseng is wise. It would never pair with Jell-O, or so I hope.

This Week's WTF

2009-03-17T14:33:00.001-07:00

Today I purchased a large plastic storage box from Target. On the underside of the lid is a sticker with a drawing of a small child sitting inside the box and the lid being placed on top, with a big slash mark over the whole image. WTF? For a minute I toyed with the idea that I had misunderstood, that perhaps the sticker was making a statement about world overpopulation or that children should only be placed in lidless boxes. Finally I conceded that, yes, somewhere out there is a person for whom this sticker is necessary. And that person probably breeds.

I am in my early-40s and today received my first mail solicitation for funeral planning. WTF? Talk about jumping the gun! At least let me get my AARP card first, then place me on the mailing list for free adult diaper samples, and then hit me up to buy those cool little senior scooters and the special bathtubs that allow me to take a bath while sitting on a raised platform. Then we can talk funeral planning.

Finally, I had to give myself a big talk today after I dropped off at Goodwill umpteenth bags of unwanted stuff, useless, unnecessary things that we cleared out this weekend during a purging of our home office. After making the donations, I then proceeded to go into the store to check out more useless, unnecessary things. WTF?

I was excited to find the same model of my vacuum cleaner being offered for $19.99. (Too bad it was missing the dirt cup, which you kind of need to use unless you enjoy having dirt, dust and dog hair swirled right back into your environment. But I digress.) I finally made myself walk out of there without purchasing any books, toys, CDs or framed paintings of street scenes.

So I pat myself on the back and share that with you. You're welcome!

For Your Next Underground Bunker

2009-03-03T10:19:00.001-08:00

There are people who claim to see signs that the world is ending. I've made my own predictions in the past (Crocs? Asian Fusion cuisine? Techno? Anyone ... Bueller?) but now I have the mother of all Exhibit-A's:

Yes, now you can buy individually packed servings of Spam. I can hear the masses rejoicing, because don't we all know the pain of ripping open a can of Spam (with the easy-top opening tab), plopping out that gelatinous block of meat-like substance and then slicing it with a knife? Why, these Spam Single packs will save you about 60 seconds of labor, which makes the wasted packaging and higher unit price so worth it.

My friend Gordon sent me this photo. Yes, it's his Spam, which I believe he obtained at the grand opening of a Costco near him on Oahu. Hawaii is a Spam-crazy state. I enjoy it in limited amounts, such as in fried rice or with my ramen noodles. I do not enjoy it fried up and slapped between two slices of white bread, which is how I was forced to eat it as a child. Sometimes, for variety, my mother would coat the bread with mayo, which just made it worse.

Gordon notes that the 3 oz. serving of Spam Single contains 990 mg. of sodium, which I think should preserve it nicely and make it a wonderful addition to your underground bunker, in which I hope you'll invite me to join you when the world starts collapsing on itself.

On a brighter note, I leave you with a recipe for Spam Musubi that I found on the Internet. Spam Musubi is kind of like sushi with a cooked slice of Spam on top. Obviously, it is not a traditional Japanese item but an adaptation that was created by someone living in -- where else? -- Hawaii. Click here for the recipe and let me know if you try it. I like Spam musubi but will not make it at home because it if turns out well I'll be making it WAY too often. Heaven knows that I stand on too many other slippery slopes as it is.

One is the Loneliest Prime Number....

2009-03-03T00:50:00.000-08:00

To the three people who read my blog, I'm sorry I didn't post any entries in nearly two weeks. I was busy feeling blue.

I was feeling blue because of one or more of the following reasons:

My kids are ungrateful little brats who don't appreciate what they have. (Actually, I've been told this isn't true.)
My friends don't really care about me. (Or maybe they've been busy recovering from the flu, chauffeuring their kids to activities and trying to balance work and family.)
My husband doesn't look or act like a virile 25-year-old. (Neither do I, of course, but who's keeping score?)
My toenails are in need of a pedicure. (True.)

However, I'm bored with feeling blue so I'm over it. Angst and melancholy remind me of these two really handsome but vapid guys I went out on dates with in college -- At first, each guy was an exciting novelty, but by the end of the evening, I was so bored I could have fallen asleep standing up. Also, one of the guys spent the evening doing Pee Wee Herman impressions, which are only funny the first 8 times. The other guy turned out to be one of those people who dance to their mirrored reflections on the dance floor, and there's just no excuse for that.

So I'm ready to turn my frown upside down and there are many things to cheer me. We just got digital cable and now I can watch Beastie Boys videos on demand. I'm going out this week with some girlfriends who always make me laugh. And I just remembered I have a brand new bottle of Baileys sitting in my kitchen.

Good times!

Next on Survivor: The Birthday Party

2009-02-15T23:04:00.000-08:00

I am officially done hosting kids' birthday parties for the year. Hurray!

While I enjoyed planning my daughter's girly-party and my son's manly pizza-and-skate soiree, and each event went smoothly, I'm always glad to be done with the round of hostings.

I think they should make an episode of Survivor in which the teams of challengers are dropped off at several suburban locations and forced to deal with the following obstacles:

Crying child who may or may not be on the verge of throwing up
Bored child who decides to make things livelier by trying to hide in the fridge
Guest is dropped off shortly before the party ends and is picked up an hour after everyone else has gone home.
Spoiled, ungrateful guest who announces, "This is stupid." Extra points for not kicking him. More extra points if you DO kick him.
Parent drops off a child and then informs you that the kid is allergic to every food item you are serving.
Guests whose parents responded that they would come never appear.
Guests whose parents did not RSVP magically appear.
Spouse just happens to get sick the day of the party and is forced to spend that time in bed resting and watching TV instead of helping you.
Spouse just happens to get sick the day of the party but tries to help anyway and is useless.

The team that survives a party at Chuck E. Cheese without trying to kill that damn singing mouse wins.

Now THAT I would watch.

Happy V.D.!

2009-02-13T22:40:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! Also, my heartiest condolences if you are attempting to make a dinner reservation or purchase reasonably priced roses at this late date.

After 18 years of marriage, the Silent Swede and I don't make a big deal out of Valentine's Day for the following reasons:

It falls between our wedding anniversary and our son's birthday, so the birthday festivities tend to take over and we usually combine anniversary and Valentine's Day for convenience.
We've been married 18 years.

This is not to say that the Swede and I don't love each other, but after you've been together for a while, Valentine's Day is just another day. Sure, it's a fun excuse to receive chocolates and sexual favors, but you can do that the other 364 days of the year. Also, when your boyfriend buys you overpriced flowers, it means he loves you. When your husband, someone with whom you share bank accounts, buys you overpriced flowers, it's time for a chat about fiscal responsibility.

Our most memorable Valentine's Day would have to be from several years ago, when we were stuck inside a Denny's booth across the street from Disneyland. With every other chain restaurant on the street packed to the gills, Denny's seemed to be the least of all evils. While we were trying not to stare at the, um, diverse assortment of humanity around us (think of characters from a David Lynch movie, but with kids), our very sweet but tired waitress informed us that the kitchen was running behind for the evening and apologized in advance. I think our dinner took about two hours, which is two hours too long to be inside any Denny's.

In the middle of it all, while our hungry and cranky kids tried to tear apart the booth, the Swede and I looked deep into each other's eyes and said together, "Happy Valentine's Day." Then we laughed maniacally and went back to restraining our little heathens.

***

On a (even) lighter note, Cake Wrecks, one of my favorite sites, offers a wonderful selection of wrecked Valentine's Day cake photos, including the one shown above. I highly recommend that you take a look-see.

Photo via Cake Wrecks

I Heart the Health Room

2009-02-07T20:50:00.000-08:00

I have found my new calling: School health-room assistant.

I can't call myself the school nurse because I'm not a trained nurse. However, I am trained in CPR/First Aid and school district policies regarding all matters of health. In our district, every three or four schools are overseen by an RN and each school's health room is monitored by a health room assistant. This is what I did this past week as a substitute staffer for my kids' school district.

Friends are surprised that I like this job so much because I'm known to be a bit of a germ-a-phobe. There is hand sanitizer in every bag I own, as well as in the glove compartment of the Babemobile. Also, I don't enjoy being around sick people too much.

This is what I have learned: The health room is probably the cleanest place in the school. Sick kids are in there for a short period and don't get the opportunity to wander around and touch the keyboards or pens. You are never more than 10 feet away from a sink and soap. There are boxes and boxes of disposable gloves as well as rubbing alcohol. It's a dreamland for moi.

When a kid wanders into the health room and you offer ice for a bump, bandage for a cut, a cleanly lined tub for vomit, crackers for empty tummies or just a sympathetic ear, you are suddenly that nice lady who is much nicer than that monster who yells at you during recess after you try to throw a rock at a passing car. Sick kids are much more pleasant than sick adults in the sense that they don't whine about all the work they're missing or insist that they have a hereditary condition and will probably die soon.

I feel very responsible in the health room. There are thick folders of all the students' health histories as well as records of which kids get which meds, all of which are neatly stored and labeled in a locked cabinet, for which I get to hold the key. It's very humbling to realize that when there is a medical emergency, I will have to remember everything I've been taught and remember where everything I need is located. It forces me to stay alert. I've had a few scares already at school and I'm glad I knew where everything was.

And the forms! I love clearly defined procedures that are accompanied by neatly printed forms. Bump your nose with a ball? There are two forms to fill out as well as a call home to let parents know that their students will come home with a form. Fall off the bars and hit your head? Ditto.

I am going to try to get as many health room substitute jobs as I can in the hopes that a permanent position will open in the near future. For anal-retentive (or as I prefer to call it, "detail-oriented") person who is not squeamish and enjoys children on a short-term basis, it's an amazing job.

Go Away, Germs

2009-02-04T09:01:00.000-08:00

My youngest is home sick with a cold and cough today. My husband has been coughing and blowing his nose for the past week. My oldest has spent the last few days lagging. And now I feel a cough in my throat.

Go away, germs.

Super Bowl XYZ (Pick a Roman Numeral)

2009-01-31T22:17:00.000-08:00

I am one of those strange people who, on Super Bowl Sunday, will ask, "Which teams are playing again?" I do not deny this. I am not ashamed of my ignorance of the game, nor do I apologize for the hypocrisy that still allows me to attend Super Bowl parties and partake of Super Bowl snacks. I attribute the fact that I still receive invitations to my sparkling party personality. Let me have my delusions.

My favorite part of Super Bowl is the commercials. I've already blogged about my love for cheesy infomercials, but I am no advertising snob. I enjoy the short commercials, too, especially when companies have spent thousands and millions of dollars to entertain me.

I don't think the commercial above came out during any Super Bowl Sundays, but a friend posted it on her Facebook profile and it's now permanently burned into my brain. Whenever I have a bad day, I am going to view it to cheer myself up, because it's just so dang weird. (Also, I can totally picture my daughter performing it during recess, but I digress.)

Hope you enjoy it!

Going to the Dogs

2009-01-26T21:27:00.000-08:00

I am ready to either sell my preteen or ship him off to military school. My husband wanted kids so it's technically his fault. I wanted more dogs.

Just needed to get that off my chest. Feel free to commiserate or ignore.

2009-01-20T15:02:00.000-08:00

There are no words that can adequately describe how I feel today. So I won't even try. It's been done (and way more eloquently) elsewhere, so what I will say is this: I feel hope. I haven't felt hope in many years. It's strange but nice.

One person alone can't make everything better. But when people have faith and hope, they can do amazing things together. Today I might even wave a flag and not feel insincere about it. For me, that's huge, and I bet I'm not alone.

Speaking of Lady-Bits...

2009-01-19T23:09:00.000-08:00

The other night, I explained Brazilian waxing to a friend who had managed to reach womanhood AND have a child without ever hearing about it. The look of horror and repulsion on her face pretty much guaranteed that she will think twice about going out for drinks with us gals again.

While I was surprised at her innocence on this topic, I was also relieved to know that I am not the only one who cringes at the thought of having someone apply melted wax near your private parts and then ripping all the hairs out by the roots. Especially when you have to PAY them to do this.

Disclaimer: I have a high pain threshold. I am not a fan of The Bush. Also, I believe that every woman should do what she wants with her body, be it contraception, tattoos or having a total stranger rip out your pubic hairs en masse. Viva la difference, I say.

Now take that wax and get the hell away from me.

Eight Years Young!

2009-01-15T13:27:00.001-08:00

My youngest, Miss Thang, turns 8 today.

It's a very strange feeling to be a parent and watch your children get older. It means that you're getting older yourself. It means that, one day, they will no longer need you. They will stretch their wings and go out into the world (as you taught them to do) and fall in love and get hurt and fall in love and hopefully start a family of their own and they will call you to complain about their own children misbehaving.

And I will offer supportive and sage advice to them while fighting to urge to laugh my ass off and shout, "Paybacks are a bitch!" Then I will pour myself a glass of wine, enjoy a chocolate that I can eat ALL BY MYSELF, and enjoy the solitude.

But until then, Happy Birthday, Mommy's little Sweet Pea.

Thank You for (Not) Sharing

2009-01-06T11:09:00.001-08:00

It's a universal law, as dictated by moi: You cannot become a compassionate human being until you have peed in your pants at least once.

I myself peed in my pants several times in elementary school and, to my horror, there was one cute boy named "John" (real name!) who always reminded me about it. Then I moved to a different neighborhood and never saw him again. In college, I became friends with a girl who had the same last name as that boy. I didn't think anything of it until one day when she mentioned her brother "John."

Although it had been years since John and the peed-pants occurrences, a bolt of horror smacked me in the head and I observed her carefully to see whether SHE KNEW. Just in case John had compiled a dossier on me and my former lack of bladder control. It ended fine: Although it turned out that she really was his sister, she acted all normal and everything. I'm still convinced that SHE KNEW. But the girl was a discreet saint. Wherever she is now (for we didn't become lifelong friends or anything), I hope she's happy, healthy and enjoying her lottery winnings in a great town where they recycle.

Why do I share this? Because I'm a sharer. Sometimes too much. At a New Year's Eve party we were congratulating a guest on finishing her first marathon when I decided to share the story of a woman who had been running in the same marathon when her cell phone rang and she learned that her sister had just died. Halfway through the story, it occurred to me that perhaps this was not the best tale to be sharing at a festive occasion, but it was too late. I had already given out most of the specifics and several people were staring at me solemnly and muttering, "How sad!" I really should attend more parties.

Anyway, back to peeing in pants. I was reminded of this when I read this posting in one of my favorite blogs, Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper. In it, blog creator Crystal shares her adventures of passing out and peeing in her pants while donating blood. It's hilarious! Well, I think you had to be there. I highly suggest you give it a read but not while you're eating a salad. You'll see why. You're welcome.

Photo by Rena Marou for openphoto.net

More Coolness

2009-01-04T14:34:00.000-08:00

Just a few days ago, another cool surprise package showed up at my door, this a time courtesy my awesome friend Izzy from Georgia. In it was a soft, cozy, wine-colored blanket to keep me warm.

Also to keep me warm was a copy of her own published novel, which I look forward to reading. Izzy's specialized genre is man-on-man erotica from ancient Japan. This will be a welcome change from the glut of chick-lit and funny parenting books everyone assumes (incorrectly) we moms like to read. If you want a link to her site, let me know and I'll send it to you.

Mahalo, Santa Izzy!

Merry New Year!

2009-01-01T00:48:00.000-08:00

Whenever I hear "Happy New Year" I can't help but think of Eddie Murphy in the movie Trading Places when he is on a train, pretending to be a visiting African, and shouting "Merry New Year!"

I hope 2009 will be happy and healthy for you. As we continue into the 21st century, I'm still wondering what happened to those flying cars and robotic servants they promised us back in the day, but whatever.

Merry New Year!

Arigato, Santa Kat!

2008-12-29T21:18:00.001-08:00

Just as the post-Christmas blahs were setting in, the most wonderful package arrived at my door, courtesy of Kat, creator of the awesome blog Our Adventures in Japan.

Kat, a fellow Hawaii-expat who blogs about her life in Japan, ran a contest recently. Inspired by the holidays to send a small gift to one of her readers, she ran a contest and asked us to share our thoughts about Japan. I like to think that my entry was so poignant and brilliant that Kat immediately chose me; what actually happened was that she received so many entries from her adoring readers that she ran the names through a random generator. Guess whose name it spat out? (Thank you, random generator.)

I love things that represent everyday life in other cultures. Having lived most of my life near the Asia-Pacific corridor (first in Hawaii, now near Seattle), I've seen my share of Japanese items and some of the things in the box looked familiar. But there were some surprises. There were also reminders that big international food companies produce different flavors of the same items for different markets (see the Kit Kat listing below).

The photo above doesn't do the shipment justice. Here's a partial list of some of the things Kat sent:

A pair of pretty blue and white teacups and a pair of little dessert-sized plates in the same pattern.
A set of plastic egg molds. According to Kat's English note (since all instructions were in Japanese), you put a hot hard-boiled egg into one of the molds, immerse it in cold water for a few minutes and you have an egg shaped like either a bear or rabbit! Who are the geniuses who think of these things?
A cute plastic lunch container with a matching set of chopsticks and chopstick case.
A postcard featuring one of Kat's many great photos.
A box of Kit Kat in the flavor of ... get ready ... Caramel Macchiato McFlurry!
Assorted bags of cookies. One bag is the McVities brand, with chocolate digestive cookies on the outside. The filling, if I understand correctly from the picture, is a center of red azuki bean surrounded by creamy green tea. I love chocolate and azuki bean, so I may not be sharing this one.
Assorted bags of hard candies.
Two bags of chocolate covered nuts. One of them is called The Caramel Corn and appears to be cashews covered in bittersweet chocolate and then dusted with a spice mixture of black pepper, ginger, cinnamon, cardamon, cloves and allspice. Can't wait to try this one.
A bag of wasabi-flavored arare (rice crackers).
A bag of ume furikake. Our family loves furikake, which is a dry Japanese condiment usually containing bits of seaweed, sugar and other flavorings. This one contained bright red flakes, which puzzled me until I read Kat's note that it contained ume (bright red pickled plums). The red coloring, combined with the dark coloring of the seaweed flakes, makes for a really pretty combination.
A bag of ume tea packets. Each packet contains a powder that you mix with a small cup of boiling water. To me it tasted like a light vegetable or miso broth with a light tangy flavoring from the ume. I wasn't sure I liked it at first sip but it really grew on me. It's a winner!

I'm slowly rationing my cache to make it last longer, which will require me to hide it not only from my kids but also from myself. This way I won't blow through everything by the end of the week.

Kat, doomo arigato for your kindness and for brightening up my day!

If anyone out there has not read Kat's addictive blog, I highly suggest doing so, although not on an empty stomach. Kat is a great photographer AND gourmand, a dangerous combo in my book. She posts the most delicious and interesting looking culinary treats, both homemade and purchased. She also does a wonderful job giving us a look at everyday life in Japan (where she now lives with her husband Satoshi), stuff you would never find as a tourist.

I leave you with photos of the stamps that came with Kat's package. I don't know whom or what some of them represent, but they're fascinating to look at. My daughter has already swiped them for her journal and has claimed the chopsticks and lunch container for herself. See why I have to hide stuff?

Fun With Informercials

2008-12-26T23:32:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite guilty pleasures, especially when I have insomnia and am snowed-in (as has been the case this week), is to watch late-night informercials. Nothing soothes like bad acting, loud booming voices and incredulous claims.

A current favorite of mine is the Magic Bullet, which, according to perky hosts "Mic" and "Mimi," can replace A WHOLE CABINET FULL OF KITCHEN APPLIANCES. I usually don't use all caps to type, but Mic really projects when he speaks, and I imagine he would type in all caps, too.

So the fake scenario is that Mic and Mimi's friends are visiting and all hovered around the kitchen, waiting for their hosts to provide for them. Did they have a sleepover or were they promised a breakfast buffet? This is not addressed. There is an assortment of fairly attractive middle-aged people (the types of actors that are usually cast as "everyday" people in commercials), an overweight hungover guy and some strange older chain-smoking woman in an old housecoat who doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of them. I get the feeling she was some cantankerous neighbor who just wandered in and they were too polite to tell her to leave.

In just SECONDS and MINUTES, Mic and Mimi not only make smoothies and omelets using the Magic Bullet, but also salsa, guacamole, quesadillas, pasta sauces and blended cocktails. If my friends were that efficient and cheery before I had my morning cup of coffee I'd have to smack them.

Who needs to dirty a knife and a cutting board when you can just throw onions into the tiny little Magic Bullet to be chopped? Of course, I'm not sure how the onion was peeled and quartered to begin with. Maybe the system works best if you buy really tiny fruits and veggies and only bring home cheeses that come in little cubes.

The claims that you can prepare EVERYTHING you need for your gastronomic pleasure using their product reminds me of an older informercial I used to enjoy that featured a sandwich grill: You would put in bread in, close the lid, and two hot slabs of Teflon-coated metal would enclose your bread and seal and grill your sandwich to perfection. Grilled cheese sandwiches? You bet. But that's not all. You could also make a breakfast sandwich with this, putting eggs and sausages and what-not between two slices of white bread and then closing the grill. Also, a hot-pocket meal that involved scooping some canned beef stew between two slices of white bread. And of course there was dessert, easily made by scooping canned apple pie filling between two slices of white bread. I imagined families ordering this and running out to buy loaves of white bread and perhaps a bottle of Metamucil for the ensuing constipation.

As I like to tell my kids: "Just because you can, it doesn't mean you should."

The following are some of my other favorite infomercials, in no particular order. I hope you find them as enjoyable as I do, but keep in mind that I'm easily entertained.

Dual Action Cleanse: If a greasy-looking guy named "Klee" tells you that you have a TON of fecal matter stuck in your intestines; talks about how thick and round his healthy four-year-old's poops are; and suggests that his product will help you lose weight, gain energy, eliminate acne, and prevent cancer, by golly, listen to the man. Not an informercial for those having a snack.
A variety of exercise equipment "programs," including the Gazelle by Tony Little (a disturbingly tanned bodybuilder) and anything piece of equipment that you strap to your abs.
Kinoki Foot Pads: From Japan? Really? I know the Japanese are generally a very clean people, but I've never heard of them attaching to their feet special pads that will draw toxins out of their bodies as they sleep, resulting in disgustingly brown pad in the morning. But if they say it's true, it must be. I wonder if I can skip using this if I'm already using the Dual Action Cleanse.

Do you have a favorite infomercial? Or am I just "special?"

A White Christmas, and Other Thoughts

2008-12-21T21:02:00.001-08:00

It has snowed at least three times this week, which doesn't happen very often around these Northwest parts. When the white stuff shows up, kids joyously suit up and run out to play while adults call in sick from work because 1) they want to go skiing or 2) they're too afraid to drive.

People who move here from the East coast or Midwest laugh their asses off watching us try to drive in the snow. Because this wondrous phenomena doesn't happen here often, most cities don't have a lot of snow-clearing equipment for the roads. Combine that with spastic newscasters who scream "SNOW!" every few minutes and a newspaper photo of a bus hanging off a road overlooking the freeway, and it's white-knuckle driving all the way.

It began snowing last weekend and we all enjoyed it. Then Monday rolled around and all the school districts began delaying school. Then on Wednesday it became apparent that winter break was beginning ASAP. Every morning at 5:30 a.m. when we received a phoned recorded message from the superintendent giving us the school status (canceled) for the day, I could hear the collective screams of parents everywhere, especially moms of young children who had planned to finish their holiday shopping before winter break officially began.

(On a side note, I have learned that many parents resented the 5:30 a.m. call because it woke them up early and they couldn't go back to sleep. I didn't mind the call because I am a sleeper. You could call me early to tell me I won the lottery and I would thank you and go back to sleep. It's a gift. Now I'm done digressing.)

Other than having my kids at home when I had planned to have some peace and quiet, the snow hasn't affected me much. I didn't plan to buy much this Christmas anyway (thank you, economy!) and had most of my shopping done by the time the white stuff hit. I did drive verrrry carefully to Costco the other day to pick up a ham and other supplies for Christmas Eve dinner. I thought it might be quiet there with the roads being icy, but apparently everyone else within a 30-mile radius had the same thought and it was packed in there. Great minds think alike.

I finally reached the point today when I took a deep calming breath and realized how pretty everything looked covered with snow. Case in point: the fir tree in my front yard, shown in the photo above. How can you look at that and not appreciate what you have? Perhaps Mother Nature gave us this snow as a symbolic cleansing of our soul, or a chance to spend more time at home with our loved ones, or a reminder to slow down and look at the beauty around us, or all above.

Thank you, Mother Nature. But next time, could you consult with the school calendar first?

In Your Facebook

2008-12-15T12:05:00.000-08:00

In a previous life I think I was a Luddite.

How else to describe my non-techie nature? It takes me forever to send a rare text-message because I actually have to hunt and peck for the letters. Also, I spell everything out because I don't remember the shortcuts. Sometimes I even punctuate.

I have an iPod (without video!) that I rarely use because I forget I have it, so I resort to the radio and that new-fangled invention called CDs.

So when my friend Kristin started nagging me to join Facebook I laughed. I might have even laughed in her face. But she finally wore me down and I got on that damned site out of curiosity. Now as I check Facebook on a daily basis, I silently curse her for getting me started. It's a lot of fun to find out what your friends are up to and to check out their photos and videos. Addicting, even. And recently I discovered their Chat function, which allows me to *gasp* chat with friends on real time! This really comes in handy when you're a night owl and are looking for someone to gab with at 10 p.m.

While I am enjoying Facebook, one component that perplexes me is all the virtual stuff that people send you. Food, animals, holiday ornaments, pieces of flair, drinks, you name it. I just checked and I have 82 things that people have sent to me, all links that are waiting to be opened.

I appreciate the fact that friends are thinking of me, but I just don't have time to open all these links, let alone send a gift back or to others. I'm busy doing other important things, like working on my blog and chasing my dog with an anti-shedding comb. But I feel guilty not acknowledging their gifts and I'm not even Catholic. I'm the kind of person who writes thank-you notes for everything. I used to be even more extreme, but one year this guy I worked with sent me a thank-you card to thank me for sending him a thank-you card and I knew I didn't want to reach that level of obsession.

So if you send me any gifts via Facebook, please accept a big blanket THANK YOU from me. And please know that, even if I don't send one back, I still feel appreciative and guilty. You're welcome.

A Chilling Holiday Warning for Men

2008-12-09T10:47:00.000-08:00

Gentlemen, as you comb the malls this Dec. 24, looking for that perfect gift for the lady in your life, heed this cautionary tale:

Ma and Pa Kettle Shop for a Dishwasher

2008-12-07T21:03:00.000-08:00

Our 12-year-old dishwasher finally bit the bullet this weekend. I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did, as it came standard with the house and was one of those cheapo no-name brands.

For a second we considered becoming one of those back-to-basics families that spend their evenings washing and drying dishes by hand while having heartfelt conversations. Then we laughed and headed out to look at appliances.

After several hours and many stores later, I learned something very important: Dishwashers now come with a lot of extra crap.

Our old model cleaned and dried dishes, period. Oh, there were some nice options, such as Air Dry and Short Wash (as oppose to the Full Wash), which you selected by twisting the dial a certain way. But now, a lot of the newer models also offer a delayed timer (what?); "Adaptive Wash," in which sensors (you heard correctly) determine how much cleaning your dishes really need; and a sterilizing mode. Because it's not really clean until it's sterilized.

Apparently when you don't shop for household appliances very often, going into the stores is like being an Amish person shopping for a cell phone. Really, the number of options were quite overwhelming to us, as were the widely varying price ranges. If I'm going to pay more than $1,000 on a dishwasher, it better clean my dishes, charge my iPod AND offer me a neck and shoulder massage.

In the end we selected a well-reviewed, reasonably priced model from a locally owned appliance store. We didn't go for the bells and whistles (don't you love old-fart phrases like "bells and whistles?") because we just want a machine that washes and dries. We did splurge on the stainless steel exterior and also will receive a rebate from our utilities company because we picked an energy-efficient model.

I feel so modern.

Image from Found in Mom's Basement

The Bird That Came to Dinner

2008-12-01T21:43:00.000-08:00

Hey, Thanksgiving at my house was JUST like this Norman Rockwell photo! Well, okay, we did carve the turkey in the kitchen instead of bringing it whole to the table.

It is now four (almost five) days past Thanksgiving and apparently I cooked the magical never-ending turkey. We've eaten several meals of it. I also made a big pot of comforting turkey jook with the carcass and a lot of the meat. I believe my son even had a turkey sandwich. And yet the masses of white and dark continue to taunt us.

So into the freezer they go, where they will be reincarnated in a few weeks into something incredibly healthy and highbrow. There's a 99 percent chance that a can of cream of mushroom soup will be involved.

What are YOU doing with your leftover turkey?

No Turkeys Pardoned Here

2008-11-26T18:14:00.000-08:00

Watch the guy in the background. He gave me the biggest laugh!

Second biggest laugh was when Sarah Palin said, "I still have my values and convictions," and I realized she and I weren't thinking of the same convictions.

In Honor of Thanksgiving Day

2008-11-24T21:55:00.001-08:00

I am thankful for many things, amongst them the funny images friends e-mail me. You realize, don't you, that before Al Gore invented the Internet, the following types of images were photocopied? On paper? In black and white?

Let us take a moment to reflect on how far we've come and how wisely we are using our technology. Then enjoy the following. (I get them every year but they still make me titter.)

Free Straitjacket Friday ... The Subject is Race

2008-11-21T10:32:00.000-08:00

Oh, come back here. We can discuss race. For me, it's not as controversial a topic as religion, politics or how girly lil' Zac Efron got added to People magazine's "Sexiest Man" list.

This week Oakland Athletics bench coach Don Wakamatsu was named the new manager for the Seattle Mariners, making him the first Asian-American manager in major-league history.

Call it a character flaw, but baseball puts me to sleep. Whenever I'm forced to attend a game, I enjoy visiting the concession stands, waving to the mascots and doing anything but watching the play. So I don't usually follow MLB news, but Wakamatsu's hiring caught my eye because he's Asian-American like me. (Except he has a Japanese-American father and an Irish-American mother, and all my descendants hailed from a pre-melamine China.)

A poster on a message board that I frequently visit posed this question:

"Do you consider Wakamatsu an Asian, a hapa (popular nickname in Hawaii for a half-white person), or White? If he had a Caucasian last name, would there be a big deal of his background?By the same token Tiger (Woods) should be Asian because he is 1/2 Thai."

How would you answer this?

I like questions that force me to use my brain cells. So I thought and thought (and no, it didn't hurt!) and here's my take: I would be lying if I said I were blind to race. Just the fact that a name like "Wakamatsu" caused me to read the sports section is proof of that.

When I watched an interview with him, he looked and sounded like a good ol' Texas boy to me (which is what he is right now, living in Texas with his family). But in other interviews, he also has discussed the internment of his father's family and other Japanese-Americans during World War II, something I was very pleased to see addressed by a prominent sports figure. So in my mind, he is Asian because he has publicly identified himself as such. As for Tiger Woods, I don't know. Has he ever discussed being Asian? I really don't know, as I don't follow golf, so I don't view him as anything.

Mixed-race issues are pertinent to me because both my kids are half-Chinese, half-Scandinavian. And they look it. Do I see them as Asian or white? Neither, because I see them as my darling kids. (And on bad days, as the little heathens who turn my hair gray.) They don't pay much attention to race on a day-to-day basis.

But there are reminders. They root for the Asian contestants when watching Survivor, as does my white husband. And they've become very accustomed to checking the "Other" box on forms that ask for ethnic backgrounds.

We live in a very mixed-race community so their ethnicity is no big deal, but I know that at some point in their lives they will probably travel through areas where they might get called out. And if that happens, I hope they have the confidence, backbone and social skills to handle the situation. I also hope they'll continue to be able to view people as people first, and race as just another interesting facet of the game.

Photo Brad Vest / Seattle Post-Intelligencer

Free Straitjacket Friday is also Beefcake Friday

2008-11-14T17:17:00.000-08:00

Went to see Quantum of Solace today with some gal-pals. It's not your typical chicks-outing movie, but as one friend says about Daniel Craig, "When I look at him I feel all yummy."

I'm not big on the James Bond franchise. When I was a kid, Sean Connery was already in his 40s and therefore ancient to me and Roger Moore reminded me of an old guy with warts. When Timothy Dalton was cast as Bond, I said, "Who?" and when Pierce Brosnan was Bond, he was good to look at but not drool-worthy.

Daniel Craig is a new Bond: Tormented, heartbroken, a loose cannon. And BUFF, but not in a cartoonishly large way.

I really enjoyed the movie. There were so many pros: Non-stop action, creepy villains, interesting plot and smart women.

Cons: He doesn't remove his shirt. Not even once. What's with that?

Do you think I should ask for my money back?

More Deep Thoughts ...

2008-11-13T09:46:00.001-08:00

... about my butt.

Last night I took my kids to Bingo Night at school and, for nearly two hours, we sat on these hard plastic seats. They're round, attached to the long folding cafeteria tables and were obviously designed for tiny little butts that can't sit still for very long. When I got home, my rear end let me know what it thought about those seats by sending little messages of pain throughout my back.

I can't help it if I have no padding on my butt and, believe me, that this is not a good thing. You'd think that all those glutes and lunges I do in my workout class would add some curvy muscle to it, but noooo ... it just gets flatter. My butt is so flat it's nearly concave. My butt is so flat it's the stomach I've always wanted. My butt is so flat I could wear my jeans backwards. My butt is so flat Christopher Columbus would have fallen off the edge.

And yet there is jiggle. I'm not sure what's jiggling back there when there is no padding. It's the ultimate cruelty, kind of like telling a flat-chested woman that she still needs to wear a bra.

As a farewell thought, here's Maxine:

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Crock-pots Rule!

2008-11-07T13:15:00.000-08:00

Today's topic is crock-pots and why they rule:

You throw your food in and forget about it for a few hours.

It allows you to leave the house while dinner is still cooking.

It tenderizes tougher cuts of meat.

They make the house smell really good.

Mine is red.

I start off with this:

After several unwatched hours, I get this:

I also like to make split pea soups in my crock-pot. One of my girlfriends stuffs uncooked manicotti shells with a spinach-ricotta mixture, places them in her crock-pot with a bunch of marinara sauce and then has a magically delicious meal hours later. I recently made hot apple cider for a large group of trick-or-treating kids by pouring a whole bottle of apple cider into the crock-pot and adding a few cinnamon sticks. Several hours later, our thirsty and cold group came back to the house and there was hot cider all ready to go.

Who else uses a crock-pot? Let's hear about it.

Change is Good

2008-11-04T22:21:00.001-08:00

Now that Barack Obama is our president-elect, I am feeling much more optimistic about being an American, something I haven't felt in years.

Change is good, and one thing that I hope changes is our economy. I'm predicting that the election will cause Americans will feel more confident about their futures and this will result in them going out and shopping, thus giving our economy a bit of a kick.

Of course, the downside is that money is tight nowadays (for many people, including yours truly), so how do you balance between spending to invigorate the economy and avoiding putting yourself into further debt? While I feel lucky not to have a crushing mortgage payment, high medical bills or heavy credit card balances, I do have to budget carefully and walk that cash tightrope.

One thing that has really helped me has been to differentiate between "wants" and "needs." When it comes to buying things other than groceries, I try to give myself a 48-hour cooling period to think about the purchase. Sometimes, for higher-priced items, that 48-hour period extends to several months. Sometimes I end up forgetting all about it. Most of the time, I eventually realize I didn't really need or particularly want the item that badly.

I'm also trying to pay cash for most things. It's too easy for me to whip out that little plastic card so what I've been trying to do is to take out a certain amount of cash at the beginning of the week and make that cash last all week. When the cash is gone, so are the purchases. Some weeks it works better than others.

The Consumerist Web site (www.consumerist.com) offers some great tips and inspirational stories on becoming debt-free. Click here to read some of these posts. It's good to know that there are specific steps I can take and to read that these tips have actually helped people who were once deeply stuck in the hole of debt.

photo © Darren Hester for openphoto.net

No Words Required

2008-11-04T10:38:00.000-08:00

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Fun with Leprechauns

2008-10-30T19:55:00.000-07:00

Some of my favorite horror movies are the inadvertently funny ones. Leprechaun, a 1993 release, certainly isn't presented as a comedy, but the first time I saw it I laughed so hard I had to check my pants.

It stars a very young Jennifer Aniston, whose character and her dad move into an old home. Unbeknown to them (because in the movies no one ever does a home inspection), the basement contains a VERY angry 600-year-old leprechaun. Said leprechaun, whom I shall call "Lep" for convenience, had his gold stolen back in Ireland. He followed the thief to America to retrieve his stash but the thief managed to lock him into a crate. The only thing that keeps him in this crate is a wee lil' four-leaf clover that repels him.

You still following me? Good. Then young Jennifer meets a local hunk/love interest. Also, there is a cute little brother and another young boy who happens to be kind of slow. The slow kid accidentally releases old Lep and all hell breaks loose!

A whole bunch of stuff happens that I won't detail. Let's just say that Lep goes on a killing and maiming spree to retrieve his gold, whacking people in the knees (because he's short, right?) or worse and crying, "Give me my gold!" My favorite scene is when Jennifer and the hunk, in a pickup truck going top speed, are desperately trying to escape from Lep, who is hotly pursuing them ... on a tricycle.

(Excuse me for a moment while I wipe my tears. Okay, better now.)

I highly recommend that you view Leprechaun, especially to celebrate Halloween or St. Patrick's Day. Sadly I cannot recommend its four sequels, especially the last one, Leprechaun in the Hood. Maybe I'm being nit-picky, but magical mythical creatures and gangstahs are not a palatable combo. Even if the cast includes Ice-T and Coolio.

Give me my gold! I'm going to say that all day today.

Whassup? 8 Years Later

2008-10-24T14:32:00.000-07:00

In the 2000, the Budweiser "Whassup?" guys made their commercial debut. The ad spot (in which a bunch of guys kept yelling "Whassup?" into their phones) was widely parodied in songs, comedy skits and other ads. Everyone and his grandmother began using that phrase.

Personally, I found the "Whassup?" craze annoying and stupid, so when this new version (above) showed up, my initial reaction was to skip it altogether. But I force myself to watch train wrecks on TV, so I forced myself to watch the video. And I'm so glad I did.

Finally, something I really can say "Whassup?" to, and really mean it.

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Math Mysteries

2008-10-23T20:49:00.001-07:00

In school they put me in a lot of advanced math classes. Don't hate me for that, because I detested math. It was like reaching Dante's Ninth Circle of Hell and finding it filled with numbers, graphs and polygons.

For some mysterious reason, I always scored well on math aptitude tests. Then I would find myself sitting in an advanced class, spending many enjoyable hours reading Judy Blume paperbacks tucked inside my textbook. Whenever the teacher called on me for an answer, my reply was something usually something like, "Um ... What page is that on?"

In one of life's ironic twists, I have a child who is not only good at math but actually likes it. A sixth-grader who is getting A's in an eight-grade math class. I'm proud but not a little befuddled. It's like a Republican giving birth to a social worker.

On the rare occasion my son asks me for math help, it becomes quite an amusing and pathetic adventure. I can remember past teen idols' siblings' names (Kristy and Jimmy McNichol! Leif and Dawn Garrett!) but for the life of me, I can't recall how to find the area of a triangle. I did okay when he was younger, but now that the math has gotten more sophisticated, I've decided to take the psychologist-couch approach to helping him:

"Hmmm," I mutter in a non-judgemental tone, "this is interesting. How do YOU think you should figure this out?"

"What have you been doing to solve this and why has or hasn't it worked?"

"Do you think you should call Brandon (fellow math genius buddy)?"

And damn if that kid doesn't end up figuring it out on his own! Maybe I really iz a genius....

Chart from http://graphjam.com

Today's Ha-Ha

2008-10-21T09:30:00.000-07:00

Since it's Tuesday and I wish it were Friday, I have to share this short but funny video with you. I know that it doesn't meet up with my usual sophisticated standards of humor (yes, I'm joking) but sometimes it doesn't take much to make my day.

Also, as you can see, I'm easily amused.

Free Straitjacket Friday: Comic Covers Rule!

2008-10-16T23:28:00.001-07:00

I can't be bothered giving out free straitjackets today because robots are ruling the Earth and going after our women! And they're, um, kind of hot, too, if you just focus on their torsos.

I LOVE comic book and especially their covers. Sometimes I'll head over to the comics rack at bookstores with my kids. While they peruse the inside contents, I'll check out every little detail on the covers, especially if they feature Captain America's pecs. Just for accuracy, of course.

If you visit the Institute of Official Cheer, you'll find a lot of bad comic book covers, funny old ads and old Sears catalog pages featuring the ugly fashions we used to covet. They're a fascinating snapshot of what Americans were thinking of back in the day. Worried about the A-bomb? Put it in a comic book. Excited about new fabric technology? It's available in a polyester double-knit dress, with your choice of busy patterns.

Visiting the Institute of Official Cheer is always a hoot and the comics pages are my favorite. Here are some that I especially enjoy. Hope you'll like them, too!

But just crouch under your school desk and all will be fine. Really.

Because every nurse, when she's not working a double shift and dealing with the bloody aftermath of gang shootings, should take the time to fluff up her hair and put on a little lipstick. Just in case that handsome, straight doctor comes calling.

This totally explains one or two boyfriends I've had.

Um ... speechless.

Between this, the Beverly Hillbillies and the civil-rights movement, it was probably not a good time to be eating at the Waffle House.

All images from www.lileks.com

The Nutcracker and Wieners

2008-10-16T12:07:00.001-07:00

As far as I'm concerned, the holidays are here, because I've just ordered our family tickets to this year's production of The Nutcracker, performed by the Pacific Northwest Ballet in McCaw Hall in Seattle.

I first saw this production when my husband and I were dating. We sat in the nosebleed seats (the only seats we could afford then) but still got an amazing view. Halfway through the production, he turned to me and asked, "When do they start talking?" It was then that I realized the poor guy had never attended a ballet before. I married him anyway.

There are many version of The Nutcracker performed in the Puget Sound area, but the PNB version is considered the gold standard. Set in a beautiful venue that also houses the Seattle Opera, this is a lavish production that began in 1983 with a set designed by Maurice Sendak, best known for his children's books such as Where the Wild Things Are. Attending this production has become an annual tradition for many families.

This will be my kids' first time at the PNB version. Two years ago I took them to another version performed by a smaller ballet company at a old local high school auditorium. The music was canned and the venue left a lot to be desired. Nevertheless, it was a beautifully done version and my daughter, who was five then, sat mesmerized the entire time. My son, who was nine, said it was "good" but wished for more sword-fighting action between the Nutcracker and the Mouse King. I think he'll enjoy the PNB's more theatrical version. My husband enjoyed it and knew not to expect any dialogue.

(On a crude and comic note, we sat in the front row and got a VERY close-up look at the dancers, including a view of the Nutcracker's groin area, which was apparent even under his tights. For days after that, my daughter, goaded on by her brother, would announce, "My favorite part was the wiener!" Ah, the memories she'll be able to share with her own kids.)

Anyway, I have made the mistake of telling my daughter that I ordered tickets to The Nutcracker, because she has now begun the "How many more days until...?" game. She's very excited and so am I.

But it's not all good news. I don't have the heart to tell her that our seats are farther from the stage this time so there will be no looking at anyone's "wieners." Oh, well, time to make some new memories.

Photo from www.pnb.org

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Fun With Pumpkins

2008-10-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

When I see a pumpkin I either want to cook it or carve a smiley face into it. Or a sad face. That's the extent of my pumpkin creativity.

Fortunately, other people look at a pumpkin and imagine a puking person or their neighbor mooning them. That, my friends, is a real talent.

Here are some of my favorite examples culled from the Internet.

Didn't I Feed You Yesterday?

2008-10-07T09:23:00.001-07:00

If you're not a Project Runway fan (and why the heck not?) you may not be familiar with Laura Bennett, season three finalist, mother of six and style/parenting icon. When I grow up I want to be just like her.

I try to keep in mind that I shouldn't idolize her because the woman has money, nannies, a fabulous New York city apartment and at least one Martha-worthy country home. Still, she does have six kids, which I think balances everything out.

Today she has a hilarious article on The Daily Beast (thedailybeast.com) titled, "Didn't I Feed You Yesterday?" She describes her hands-off parenting style (lets her kids eat chemical junk, buys them go-carts and doesn't know where their classrooms are) and even attributes it to a genetic disposition to laissez-faire parenting.

I love it because I am descended from an overprotective mom. She never allowed me out to play with neighbor kids (they were too rough) or join a sport (in case I got injured and possibly paralyzed for life) or go to friends' homes (should any family members living there possess hidden criminal records). I think I was finally allowed to cross the street by myself during seventh grade.

That's the family legacy I've been handed and it's one I'm trying to break. I think I'm making an admirable effort and it helps that my husband grew up in one of those homes where kids were allowed to roam outdoors all day and just return for meals.

I'm also trying hard not to be a helicopter parent at school. While I do volunteer with my kids' classrooms and know their teachers, I try not to hover around the schoolyard or obsess over their homework and friends. Our schools have enough neurotic parents; they don't need me to join their ranks.

Several years ago, on the first day of school, my friend Adrienne and I kissed our kindergartners, watched them march into class, left the weeping moms and went shopping. We might have left tire tracks in the school parking lot in our haste to get out of there.

There was another time a group of us moms decide to celebrate the kids' return to school by canoeing out to a small island with contraband margarita-fixings and snacks, only to find a work-party of prison inmates already there. We still had a splendid time.

So there is hope for me!

A Berry Good Monday

2008-10-06T10:44:00.001-07:00

It's Monday morning and all is well. The kids got off to school without any drama; I got in a workout and am feeling good; the leaves are turning into beautiful golds and reds; and my dog appears to be done shedding all over the house.

Most importantly, I have a blueberry crisp waiting in my kitchen.

This summer we went to a nearby U-Pick blueberry farm and managed to come away with nearly 14 pounds of the good stuff. Some of it we ate while the others got bagged and frozen, just waiting to make their appearances throughout the rest of the year in pancakes, muffins, crisps and pies.

Yesterday when I reached into my freezer for a bag of blueberries to make a crisp, I was shocked to learn that it was THE LAST BAG. Damn, we should have gone to the blueberry farm again before it closed for the season. Now we'll have to buy it frozen until next summer.

Regardless, my blueberry crisp turned out very well and it's now calling my name, along with its partner, vanilla ice cream. So I leave you, but not before posting a photo of a blueberry pie I made this summer using the same batch of berries we had picked. My desserts may not look pretty, but believe me, they are scrumptious!

Free Straitjacket Friday ... What We Hear ...

2008-10-03T10:36:00.000-07:00

... is not always what we comprehend. And a free straitjacket doesn't always help to clarify things (but go ahead and take one if you wish).

Case in point: My friend Peggy tells of Son #1 being allowed to go to the driving range with cousin Kelly while the Son #2 didn't get to go and threw a fit. The next day, Son #1 tells his brother that he had gotten to hit golf balls at the driving range.

Says Son #2, "Oh, I thought it was somewhere you got to drive go-carts."

Responds Son #1, "Yeah, I thought we were going to watch Kelly practice driving."

I love stories like this. So far, my favorite one involves one of my younger sisters whom we refer to as the Natural Blond, even though she's a brunette. She lived with us during part of her high school years and provided many moments of unintentional mirth.

My favorite was when I went to a plant nursery and then came home.

Natural Blond: "Where'd you go?"

Moi: "I went to a nursery."

Natural Blond (screwing up face in distaste): "Why would you want to visit old people?"

And that, my friend, is Free Straitjacket Friday. Have some coffee and donuts from the refreshment table and have a great day!

Dazed and Confused

2008-10-02T09:18:00.001-07:00

It's October already? Really? Where have I been?

Does time pass quicker the older you get or does it just seem that way? When I was a kid, it seemed as if Halloween and Christmas would never come, but now I find myself looking at the calendar and realizing that Halloween is in a few weeks and we better get on the ball with costumes.

Both my kids were pumpkins their first Halloween, which was perfect because, as most pumpkins go, they just sat there and looked confused. Now Miss Thang (age 7) wants to be a hula girl, which is simple enough, since we can just get the "grass" skirt and coconut bra from a costume shop. Pubescent Rocker (age 11) is trying to decide between Al Gore or Stephen Colbert. Last year he was Dick Cheney and carried a pitchfork.

I admire his political-statement aspirations, but getting a costume together sure was easier when he wanted to be a skeleton or clown.

Image: Rip Van Winkle and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Oxford University Press, U.K.

Happy Birthday, Google!

2008-09-26T22:05:00.001-07:00

Google turns 10 years old! You don't look a day over nine, I swear.

More Free Straitjacket Friday, Bonus Round

2008-09-26T09:46:00.001-07:00

Funny how good rest and good antibiotics can put a new spin on your perspective. In reviewing my previous post on neti pots, I have come to the conclusion that the post, while informative and interesting to some, might not be considered entertaining. (Although in my defense, I consider the video a real treasure.)

So today I introduce you to Engrish.com. Butchering the English language has never been so much fun! I'm sure you've all seen the T-shirts worn by foreign tourists that bear words that appear to be English but don't make much sense. If you enjoy those, you'll enjoy Engrish.

Please to click on this link and enjoy refreshing! Don't forget to vote this erection year!

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Neti Pots

2008-09-25T21:01:00.000-07:00

Welcome to another Free Straitjacket Friday. Today, anyone who has bronchitis and is getting cold symptoms gets first pick of fashion colors. Wait a minute, that would be me.

Today's weird topic is neti pots, which have been used in India for centuries for nasal irrigation. A few years back, a friend told me about using it to relieve her severe allergy symptoms and I thought she was finally ready for her own straitjacket. Of course, the fact that she described it as "a small teapot you put salt water in and then stick into your nostrils" didn't really help convert me.

Last year, after another friend recommended it, I started using a little plastic neti pot that I picked up at Walgreens and I absolutely love it. I can breathe much easier and my nasal passages no longer feel dry during the winter. I used to wake up on cold mornings barely able to breathe, despite having a humidifier in my room, and I no longer have this problem. I use it every night and after I've been in dusty or pollen-filled environments. When I have a bad cold (such as now) I also use it in the mornings. Let's just say it clears out and soothes the tubes.

Here's a video that shows you how it works. If you're squeamish about fluids coming out of your nose, you might want to put that snack down before viewing it. I found it very helpful when I was first getting started.

Does anyone have a neti pot story to share? Did it work for you?

'Tis the Season for Germs

2008-09-22T11:59:00.001-07:00

You know it's bad when I have to resort to posting cute photos of dogs that aren't even mine.

When the kids return to school each fall, it's like sending them off to germ-incubation factories. Then these Junior Typhoid Marys come home and breathe on me. Now I have bronchitis and the coughing is driving me nuts. Lying in bed with some hot tea and watching a movie would be very nice right now, but I have too much to do and not enough energy to do it. (And the fact that I have energy to blog is an irony that does not escape me.)

Fortunately, I have my cough drops for day and, for evening, that lovely prescription codeine cough syrup, the one that quiets your cough and knocks you out for a full night of snoozy-poo. I kept my love of the codeine syrup under wraps until I cautiously talked to a few friends about it and discovered that they are big fans, too. I also have a prescription for antibiotics, but since my bronchitis seems to be viral instead of bacterial, I don't need to fill it.

One thing that mystifies me is why I crave the most unhealthy foods when I'm sick. Burger-like products from the Golden Arches. Instant MSG-filled ramen noodles. Fat- and salt-filled Hawaiian plate lunches. My only theory is that these warm, gooey, salty, and greasy items represent comfort foods for me, and when I'm sick, I need all the comforting I can get.

Gotta go now and get some rest. And eat a frozen burrito.

Free Straitjacket Friday ... Now With Cake!

2008-09-19T09:23:00.001-07:00

Welcome to another Free Straitjacket Friday. Today, anyone who has ever had a bad experience waiting in line at the DMV or Wal-Mart gets first pick of fashion colors. Queue up, please.

Today's topic includes three of my favorite things in life:

Good cake
Laughing my head off
Laughing my head off at bad misspellings, bad punctuation and "inappropriate use" of "quotation marks."

The good folks at Cake Wrecks have combined all three for me! It's motto: When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong. I think that pretty much says it all.

The following are some of my favorites from Cake Wrecks, which provides wonderfully snarky commentary with each cake. I have other favorites, but these are some of the, um, cleaner ones.

Please to enjoy!

(All images courtesy Cake Wrecks)

Spamalot Lately?

2008-09-16T09:28:00.000-07:00

This morning my friend Peggy sent out an e-mail informing a small number of friends about Dish Up Literacy. This is a very cool program that encourages people to eat out at participating area restaurants this Thursday. The restaurants then donate 20 percent of their receipts that day towards an effort to buy more books for our schools.

What I found interesting was the fact that Peggy prefaced her e-mail by explaining that she was sending it out because it's for a good cause but we don't have to worry she will start spamming us. She had received the e-mail from another friend who also explained that she wasn't trying to spam anyone.

I hadn't really thought of this e-mail as spam and so I found the disclaimers curious. I can only guess that someone out there had received one too many e-mails about worthy causes and declared war on them.

The Mirriam-Webster's Online Dictionary describes spam as "unsolicited usually commercial e-mail sent to a large number of addresses." I just describe it as delicious, especially fried and slapped between two slices of white bread. Sorry, couldn't help myself.

For the record, I welcome any e-mails from my friends regarding good causes. I also welcome jokes that are particularly raunchy, family photos and any personal updates. What I don't care to receive are e-mails containing the following:

Offers to enlarge my penis or make me fabulously wealthy by assisting some Nigerian prince
Any dire warnings about Internet viruses, diseases or upcoming gang initiations that have not been checked for accuracy. Really, is Snopes THAT hard to use?
Sentimental, heartwarming messages about (friendship, kittens, angels, old people who say profound things, etc.) that come with instructions to send it to seven friends.
Anything that has been forwarded so many times I have to keep opening new messages to get to the original message. If a message isn't important enough for you to copy and paste into a new e-mail, it's probably not something I need to read.

And now for some humor! Recently I DID send an unsolicited video link to a friend of mine because I knew she would find it funny. Now I share it (unsolicited) with you! And the subject is religion! I can do this because it's my blog, but, no matter what your religious beliefs may be, please tell me if this video doesn't have you rolling on the floor with tears in your eyes.

Free Straitjacket Friday!

2008-09-12T09:10:00.001-07:00

Straitjackets are free every Friday around here! Moms with young kids get first pick of fashion colors, followed by anyone who has to work in customer service.

This morning I am putting on my straitjacket, sitting in my padded cell, and thinking of deep and profound topics ... such as my butt.

I blame it on calling dr. bombay, this fun new blog I just discovered and will now have to add to my lengthy list of favorites. In an entry titled baby got back our new friend talks about her posterior:

There was a time when I was in high school that I was obsessed with my ass.

I was sure that it was too big.

I wore long sweaters and big shirts to disguise it.

Every day in the cafeteria I took the long way round a table of upperclassmen boys because I was sure that Corey Hoffman would be staring at my ginormous rear-end and could never ever love me!!!

Over time, my obsession faded away and I never really worried about my body again.

But this morning prior to getting dressed, I was looking at myself in all my naked splendor in the mirror and it suddenly occurred to me that my 9th grade self would be positively mortified and quite possibly incapacitated if she could see the sheer size and magnitude of her ass now!!!

Raise your hands if you can relate! I was so self-conscious about my body in high school and college. Had I only known that one day my metabolism would slow down and I would have two kids and a Costco snack habit, I would have celebrated my perfect body back then. I would have strutted around and worn a bikini every day. To school. To the supermarket. To church, if I ever did go. Rest assure that I would have worn flats instead of heels with my bikini, because I do have a sense of propriety, after all.

My butt/arse/okole isn't big; I have the opposite problem: There is nothing back there anymore but when I jump up and down I feel something jiggling. Someone please explain this to me. Are they mystery buttocks? Is it like the phantom pains people get after their limbs are amputated?

In the big scheme of life I know it's not a big deal. My butt and the rest of my body may not look as good as it once did but I'm working out, trying ("trying" being the operative word) to eat healthy and usually maintaining a positive attitude, so I feel healthy and strong most of the time.

And I can still wear a two-piece bathing suit! Well, actually it's a huge tankini. Does that count?

photo Nikki Levine for openphoto.net

A Little Patience

2008-09-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

This week I began a temporary assignment for a little girl who just started in our school's Special Education classes. "Kathy" (not her real name, to protect her privacy) is sweet and adorable. She also suffers from a condition that results in muscular degeneration. As a result, she is unable to speak, wears braces to walk, and has limited use of her arms, which will flail around uncontrollably. She also needs assistance going to the bathroom. She gets very excited around other children but tends to scare them because she shrieks, shoves her hand in her mouth and then tries to reach out with her wet hands.

While Kathy's arm movements are limited, she is still able to grab things, lightening-quick, and shove them in her mouth. Plastic play coins, toilet water, other people's food, she doesn't discriminate. I have to watch her every second and be ready to remove her hand from things she shouldn't grab. I have to dodge the drooly hand, which has slapped me and pulled my hair several times. This is not an easy task considering that I need to be close by to assist her.

I have never worked with a kid with such special needs before and I have realized several things this week:

People who work with Special Ed kids are saints. They are there for the kids every day, all day, and they persevere and celebrate the little victories. I, on the other hand, am there for just the afternoon, and I'm physically and emotionally drained at the end of the day.

I am not a saint, but I have more patience than I originally thought. Despite that, I could NOT do this on a full-time basis.

Once you've changed a Pull-Up on a child, you never forgot how to do it.

My initial reaction when offered this assignment was, "Hell, no!" (I didn't actually say it out loud, of course.) I can barely stand it when my own, highly functioning, kids are moving slowly, so how was I going to do with a special-needs child?

What made me agree to do it, albeit on a trial basis, was my realization that I was scared to do this, and I do not like to be scared. I also do not like to turn down a new opportunity just because I've never done it before. Experience, be it good or bad, make you a better person, and I want to be a better person. So I said "yes."

It's been a long couple of days. This afternoon I found myself losing patience with Kathy when she refused to cooperate and kept trying to bite my hand. If it had been one of my own kids I would have tried to reason with them, threaten them, read them the riot act, or all of the above. I couldn't do this with Kathy. And then I realized she was probably exhausted from all her efforts in walking, eating, learning, just being. So I took a deep breath, gave up on trying to get her to follow my game plan, and sat her down in her special chair. Once seated, she turned to me and gave me an adorable little smile and my impatience left me, at least for a while. I guess sometimes that's all we can ask for.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2008-09-01T19:03:00.001-07:00

There is much celebrating in our home, for school begins in two days. Actually, I should specify that I am the one in a joyful mood; my kids, not so much.

It has been a very fun and busy summer. So busy that I just realized it's been nearly a month since my last post. There were many times that I thought of posting but couldn't find the energy to compose a thought or lift a finger to the keyboard. That's the kind of summer it's been.

We've gone to the zoo, the aquarium, the science center, the parks, the outdoor movies and many other fun and enriching venues. We stayed at home and did crafts, ran through the sprinklers and had backyard picnics. My kids participated in theater camps, basketball camps, sleep-away camps, swim lessons and every other fun summer activity you can think of. I provided transportation for all of it.

My little cherubs started the summer with very ambitious goals: physical fitness, art projects, playdates, reading Moby Dick, etc. For the most part, they have been well-behaved and helpful. However, for the past three weeks they have been whiny, argumentative and constantly begging to play video games. When they began to complain about not having any good snacks right after a Costco run, I realized: It is time for them to return to school.

I consider it a wonderful sign that I did not get sick of my children during this summer vacation until three weeks ago; it seemed like only yesterday that I was begging to be put out of my misery after the first week of having them home. Progress, indeed!

After they return to school, I will grab a cup of coffee, put my feet up and listen to the sounds of ... ripping and hammering, for we are having our house completely re-sided. For the past several days, two very efficient workmen have been showing up bright and early to rip off old, warped siding and put up fresh, new siding. This requires the placement of a dumpster and Honey Bucket on our driveway (see photo above). The little boy across the street is very impressed and has asked to use our Honey Bucket, which I believe his mother forbade.

The project will probably take another two weeks, during which time I will put my feet up at the local coffee shop, run many errands and try to pick up as many jobs as possible. However, if I choose to stay at home, I can try to drown out the sounds of construction. The workmen may be noisy, but they have not once sassed me or complained that they are bored.

Progress, indeed!

Coming to Star Wars America

2008-08-05T22:40:00.000-07:00

This is a mash-up of two popular movies. I laughed SO hard!

http://view.break.com/436851 - Watch more free videos

Friendships and Other Mysteries

2008-08-01T20:07:00.000-07:00

Today I ran into a friend whom I had not seen in more than a year, since she and her family moved out of state. While she was in town on business and didn't have time to get together, I was thrilled to see her and chat with her for a few minutes. I really miss her.

When Jeanne lived here we would get together whenever we had time, which was infrequently due to our busy schedules and other commitments. But whenever I got to chat with her I always left feeling refreshed and uplifted. She is one of the funniest, most insightful and most open people I know. She also had a wild streak, which was fun! I was very bummed when she moved.

So many of my close friends have moved away throughout the years. A lot of times it was for good reasons, such as job opportunities or adventure or to be closer to family, but, in my more self-centered moments, all I can feel is that they have moved away from me.

I don't know why I'm so surprised whenever it happens. We live in a very transitory society: I myself moved to the Northwest from Hawaii 19 years ago and never regretted it. While I'm good at making new friends and enjoy the ones I have, and I'm genuinely happy for people when they embark on new adventures, it still doesn't take away the sting of feeling left behind.

Go ahead and call me Debbie Downer.

Photo Michael Jastremski/Openphoto.net

Mamma Mia and Movie Mayhem

2008-07-27T20:47:00.001-07:00

Okay, this is not really a blog entry about Mamma Mia! The Movie, which (surprise to no one) I loved. It had everything a chick in my demographic group could want, hence the term "chick flick." Meryl Streep looking and sounding fabulous? Check? Hunky Colin Firth wearing open-buttoned shirts? Check? ABBA songs? Check. Romance and happy endings? Well, duh.

The movie didn't change my life and I expect no film award nominations out of this, but who cares? It was fun and feel-good funny. Even when Pierce Brosnan warbled a few songs and I thought my ears would bleed, I still thought it was endearing of him to at least try. When you're eye-candy, a lot can be forgiven.

What I really want to discuss is my crappy luck at the movies lately. I don't like to go around feeling sorry for myself, but it seems as if Mother Karma has been punishing me for some past transgressions by seating the strangest combination of viewers around me during the movies.

It all started a few months ago when my fellow mom-friend Adrienne and I went to see Baby Mama, a flick geared not only toward chicks but chicks who might be moms. (Can marketers read us or what?) Halfway through the movie, the guy behind me begins kicking my seat violently. It wasn't the steady kick-kick-kick of a bored leg; it was the spastic, pre-orgasmic kick that my dog does when you scratch her belly and hit the right itchy spot. So I sit up and turn my head to look at him. That usually does the trick. As I turn around, I can't see too well in the dark but I can make out a young man (the one sitting behind me) swapping spit quite noisily with a young woman. They didn't even notice me looking at them. I don't even think he realized that he kicked my seat.

The kicking stopped for a while, and then spastic-kick happened again. And now I'm getting pretty pissed, so I turn around again to tell him to cut it out, but now they're juicily sucking at each other, moaning, and (I think I saw this in the dark) their hands are moving. At the realization that there is amour going on behind me, I no longer care about having my seat kicked. Now I'm worried about where this will lead. The image of the "hair gel" scene from There's Something About Mary comes to mind and I realize that my hair is fine; I don't need more gel, thank you.

So I whisper the situation to Adrienne and we move to the quieter, non-romantic section of our row, but now while I'm watching the movie, I'm also distracted, thinking: Who goes to a chick-flick to grope, especially one involving a pregnant woman and an eventual labor scene? And why go to a normal-length movie for that purpose when there are much longer movies playing at this multiplex? Is this a very expensive movie, or a very cheap hotel room? So many unanswered questions ...

Then, a few weeks ago, I took my 11-year-old son to see Hellboy 2: The Golden Army. It's rated PG-13 but I agreed to take Mr. Pubescent Rocker because:

I love Hellboy.
Mr. PR is very mature for his age.
I love Hellboy.

Right before the previews begin, a man and two little boys, one who appeared to be a preschooler and the other not much older, sit down directly behind us.

Okay, I know I will never win Mother of the Year, so I try not to judge other people's parenting standards, but WHO TAKES A PRESCHOOLER TO A MOVIE CALLED "HELLBOY 2?" Is it just me, people? There are blades in this movie. People being eaten. Impending Armageddon. Smoking. An unmarried pregnant woman! All the things that make movies fun for those WHO ARE NOT PRESCHOOLERS! Even my Mr. PR, who fancies himself quite the superhero buff, had to cover his eyes during certain suspenseful scenes. I had to concentrate really hard on the movie to block out the thought of the kid behind me, which was extra challenging because he kept asking his dad what was going on in the movie.

Finally, at Mamma Mia the other night, Adrienne and I got there fairly early and got good seats, which was lucky because it was evident that the place was going to fill up. Just as we were congratulating ourselves on selecting a movie that appeared to be attracting sensible middle-aged women such as ourselves instead of horny sex fiends, two women sat down next to us. With a baby.

Oh, Mother Karma, what did I do? I have not flipped off any bad drivers lately, nor have I giggled over anyone's small vocabulary. There was that time my husband and I giggled over some guy's sad comb-over, but we did it quietly. So why?

I decided to be gracious about it. After all, I had babies once and I understand. I smiled at one of the women, moved over one seat and said, "I'll just move over so you'll have more room." She started to apologize but I assured her that it was fine. It seemed to be working out beautifully.

Then a minute later, as all seats filled, a very large man came through our row, plopped down next to me and started to take over my armrest.

I have this thing about armrests. It has been my observation that men are accustomed to taking armrests away from women. It happens on planes, it happens in stadiums, it happens in movie theaters. And one of my life's goals is to end this whenever the opportunity arises. So I firmly stuck my arm on my half of the armrest while he stuck his arm on his half. I would have kept my arm there the entire movie, if not for the fact that I didn't really want to be touching arms with him for nearly two hours, and my realisation that this was probably a guy who was dragged to watch a chick-flick and then couldn't even sit with his party; he had to sit between a woman with a baby and some aggressive chick who wouldn't even let him have a whole armrest for himself. So, out of pity, I gave him the armrest. Damn, these men are good.

In the end, it worked out fine. The baby was quiet through the whole movie and the large man didn't lean into my space or have B.O. I felt ashamed of my neurotic premature assumptions. Whatever I have done in the past to deserve my weird movie pals, perhaps I have learned my lesson. We shall see when I next go to the movies.

I Can Stop Anytime I Want

2008-07-18T22:39:00.001-07:00

I don't smoke or drink (much). Just a clean-livin' gal, I am. Here, let me show you my halo. I try to exercise, eat my fiber and get enough rest. However, hell hath no fury as me on a trying day without a Diet Dr. Pepper.

No intervention or 12-step programs exist for Dr. Pepper addicts. There are no Nancy Reagans or school DARE programs advising us to "Just Say No" to its delightful nectar. No matter, because to beat your addiction you must first admit that you are addicted, and I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. I can ignore the sounds of its sweet, peppery, and cold effervescence calling out to me. Really. On a hot afternoon when my brain is shutting down and my kids ask, again, why we can't buy another Slip 'N Slide, I don't really need its caffeine to keep my head from exploding. Honest.

When I was in college (before I learned to drink coffee), I drank a lot of Jolt Cola. Its marketing slogan back in the day was "All the Sugar and Double the Caffeine," which was good enough for me. One evening, after I had a downed a few cans of this delicacy, I attended a student meeting and was distracting by a constant tap-tap-tapping sound. It turned out that the sound was my fingers involuntarily tapping on the wood-laminate table. Perhaps they were sending out a Morse-Code cry for help or simply trying to get away from me. After that, I limited myself to one can a day.

Jolt is now called Jolt Energy and is heavily marketed on college campuses, as Jolt Cola was back then. Apparently they do not consider sophisticated, experienced, slightly insane middle-aged moms (such as, I don't know, yours truly?) to be a profitable demographic.

No matter. I have my Dr. Pepper. But I can stop anytime I want.

Funny Food Combos

2008-07-15T20:18:00.001-07:00

Sliced ripe mango topped with Best Food Mayonnaise

When I was growing up in Hawaii, my Popo (grandmother) would regularly stop by to share whatever good deals she landed at the supermarkets or Chinese produce stands. One day she brought over some avocados. Now, I love avocados and will eat them in almost any form, but what Popo proceeded to do next traumatized me for several years: She splashed soy sauce (or shoyu, as we call it) into her avocado half and began to eat the concoction with a spoon.

Not being the most subtle kid, I'm sure I made loud gagging sounds. Popo just smiled and said, "Try it. It's delicious!" Politely declining, I made a silent determination that the poor woman had lost her facilities and was trying to poison all of us.

Then a few years later, the TV miniseries Shogun became a hit and suddenly all things Japanese were cool. Japanese restaurants decided to capitalize on this new-found popularity and reel in timid American eaters by creating less-exotic types of sushi. One of the most popular of these creations is the California roll, which contains avocado and is usually served with -- You guessed it -- shoyu. The first time I ate one of these puppies, I realized that the creaminess of the avocado went beautifully with the earthy saltiness of the shoyu. Dang, Popo wasn't crazy after all.

I was reminded of this the other day while reading one of my favorite blogs, The Tasty Island, which is pure food porn and a real tease to those of us who no longer live in the islands and don't have access to the variety of foods and restaurants found there. In an entry titled Mayo Mango Madness, writer Pomai describes how his mother enjoys sweet ripe mangos topped with ... Best Foods mayonnaise. He also posted, in an earlier entry, his recipe for Mango Bruschetta.

It really got me thinking of all the food combinations out there that sound kind of weird but are actually pretty yummy. I mean, who first thought of wrapping brie in puff pastry, baking it and serving it with crackers? Who in the Chinese restaurant trade first decided it would be smart to coat Honey Walnut Prawns (one of my favorite dishes) in warm mayo? Who in Chicago decided that the city's archetype hot dog should contain tomato slices but not ketchup? I read that the most popular pizza topping in Japan is fish. Soo desu ka?

This is why I try to keep an open mind when it comes to eating. Even if something doesn't really sound very appealing I will "at least try a bite," as I tell my kids. And I usually end up liking it! So if Pomai from The Tasty Island ever shows up at my door (yes, come visit!) with a delicious platter of mangos topped with mayo, you bet I'll give it a go. But I don't think I'll be in a hurry to make this on my own. (Sorry, dude.)

Image courtesy tastyisland.wordpress.com

Hellboy 2: The Golden Army

2008-07-14T20:41:00.000-07:00

Yay! Hellboy 2: The Golden Army is awesome, suspenseful and lots of fun.

I had mentioned in an earlier blog my anticipation for this film and my apprehension that it would be one of those sequels that fall flat compared to the first film. Thank goodness my worries are unfounded. Now the Earth can continue spinning on its axis.

I won't bore you with a detailed plot since you already know it if you're a Hellboy fan. For you swing voters, the basic tale is that an other-worldly prince, exiled by his father the king during ancient times, seeks the final piece of a golden crown that will unleash a powerful, unstoppable Golden Army. Once unleashed, this army will help the prince annihilate humankind, with whom his father had declared a truce eons ago. So it's up to Hellboy and his gang from the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Development to figure out how to stop him.

Hellboy still has a bad temper and a fondness for cigars. Abe Sapien is still fishy and smart, but he gets to fall in love this time. Liz Sherman still has a bickering love affair going on with Hellboy, but this time she's carrying a little surprise inside her. Oh, there's also a Barry Manilow song included here. I won't give it away.

As with the first Hellboy movie, the visual effects are stunning, the action will be keep you transfixed and -- Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer -- the monsters! If you're a fan of director Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth, you know what the man can do with monsters. Hellboy 2 introduces the Angel of Death and the Gatekeeper, both played by the rubbery Doug Jones, who also portrays Abe Sapien.

Also impressive are a swarm of computer-generated Tooth Fairies, who are way more sinister than they sound, and an underground Troll Market that reminded my son of all the Chinatowns he's seen (and he's seen a few).

If you like well-written, well-acted and beautifully filmed action films, this is one to see.

Life is a Bowl of This...

2008-07-10T20:47:00.001-07:00

We're in the midst of cherry season and life is good. Call me opinionated, but I think the sweetest, plumpest cherries are grown here in the Northwest. Unfortunately, the harvest season is short (about 6 to 8 weeks), so we spend part of the year waiting for cherries, a few weeks enjoying them, and then the rest of the year moaning that we should have eaten more cherries when they were around.

My favorite is the Rainier cherry, which is a hybrid that is sweeter than most other varieties. Alas, it also requires optimal growing conditions and more careful handling, so it's usually in much shorter supply and, therefore, more expensive.

Today the kids and I were driving around and decided to visit a large produce stand in Seattle, where we found Rainier cherries being offered for a song ($2.99/lb., about a third of the usual price in supermarkets). I should have taken a photo of our stash before our family decimated it; what you see in the photo above is what's left, and I'm surprised there's any left at all.

They're so juicy and sweet like candy and I find the process of chewing on the tender-but-firm flesh and then spitting out the pit to be very therapeutic. Hey, we all have our fetishes.

Dancing Matt 2008

2008-07-04T22:09:00.001-07:00

Have you seen Dancing Matt? He makes me smile. If you like this video and want to see more (or learn about Dancing Matt, who apparently lives in Seattle), go his site, at wherethehellismatt.com.

Want Some Whine With Your Cheese?

2008-07-02T16:17:00.000-07:00

My daughter, Miss Thang, has not slept much this week, due to a combination of the hot weather and the fact that she is physically incapable to slumbering past 7 a.m. Since she refuses to sit still and rest for even a second during the day, she has been alternately hyper and whiny.

Today it came to a head. She was whiny through a movie, whiny through a playdate and whiny during a shopping trip. I finally lost it at Fred Meyer. I was looking for groceries and laundry detergent in a store that has changed its layout for the umpteenth time due to remodeling, and while I tried to concentrate on finding things this buzz-buzz-buzz kept going in my ear: "Mommmmmmmm ... I was trying to find this toy ... can you come and look at this toy ... I want some of those hairbands ... no, I want more than six ... waaaaahhh..."

I gritted my teeth, glared at her and uttered the first word that came to mind: "Naptime!" She stopped in her tracks and became fearfully quiet. Her eyes got big and she whispered, "I don't want to nap." The image of Guantanamo detainees flashed through my mind. Keep in mind that she is 7 and has not napped since the age of 3.

So we have made a deal: Whenever she is whiny or annoying or hyper this summer and can't calm herself despite several warnings and/or good-parenting attempts on my end, "Naptime" will be the code word for, "This is your final warning. Any further attempts to whine or annoy will result in being sent to your room for a good snooze."

So far it's working. If it works through the entire summer vacation, I may have to start a parenting-advice blog (just kidding).

Strawberries, Finally!

2008-06-29T13:31:00.001-07:00

Every year our family looks forward to picking strawberries at Biringer Farms in Marysville. There is nothing quite like having a tractor tow you in a cart out to a field of ripe, red, fragrant strawberries and then being able to pick your own for a very reasonable price. No one can resisting popping a few of the sweet little guys into their mouths for a "quality-control" sample. My kids usually end up with quite a few berries in their stomachs while they're out in the fields, so the free fiber is another benefit.

Local strawberries have been behind schedule this year because of the cold spring, so we were overjoyed when the farm's Berry Line recording indicated that the ripening had begun. We picked two flats that totaled about 24 lbs., most of which the hubby and the kids will slice and freeze to make batches of delicious freezer jam throughout the year.

We also took a few cups to make the strawberry glaze pie in the photo. The pie crust doesn't look very pretty because I was too impatient to let the homemade dough chill long enough before rolling it out, but it was delicious all the same. You'll have to take my word for it.

Slip, Slide, Repeat

2008-06-25T22:59:00.000-07:00

Some time this summer my inner child will be tempted to purchase a(nother) Slip 'N Slide for my kids. Should this happen, I hope my grown-up brain will put my inner child into the Time Out corner until it comes to its senses.

We have blown through two Slip 'N Slides during the past few summers. Here are some reasons why I don't want another one:

The inflatable walls that are supposed to catch you at the end of the slide usually puncture after the very first use, creating a very interesting potential for grass burns on the chest and face.
You have to spend a few minutes setting it up by staking it to the ground and attaching your garden hose. After that, my kids enjoy it for about five minutes and then go on to other things.
Then after they're done using it, you have to remove the stakes and find a place to stash the sucker, unless you cherish a soggy mud strip in your back yard and puncture marks in the vinyl from the dog's claws.
My cheapskate nature has serious issues with the concept of paying good money for a piece of plastic that you wet down.

And the number one reason (drumroll): There is a weight limit on these suckers and guess who exceeds this limit? Why can't they make them sturdier to hold higher weights? Who do they think purchase these things, a bunch of supermodels?

So this summer, my deprived children will have to make do with Super Soaker water guns, bubbles, sidewalk chalk, bug vacuums, neighborhood parks, bikes and the old-fashioned sprinkler. I think we'll live.

Day One of Summer Vacation

2008-06-20T15:59:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of summer vacation for my kids, ages 11 and 7.

As most stay-at-home parents, I usually view summer vacations with a mixture of relief and dread. It's a relief to take a break from the hectic school schedule of homework and activities. However, this means I am now the supervisor and source of entertainment for two kids whose idea of fun is many hours of Wii and Teen Disney. So I schedule them for camps and lessons and we go to the pools, the beaches, the parks, the zoos, the museums and any other fun and enriching place I can think of. I also try to keep them occupied by having them do housekeeping. (A Swiffer duster in the right hands can be so much fun!) Every summer I feel like Julie McCoy on the Love Boat, except no one tips me at the end of the cruise.

If I were one of those overachieving, adoring parents whose spawn could do no wrong, I would brag that my children are "verbally gifted" and "analytically vocal." As it stands, they bicker. Some people can ignore the sound of bickering, but to me, it's like listening to a thousand dirty fingernails screech down a chalkboard while a swarm of bees hover over my head. So at least once a week during summer vacation, I lose it and yell at my kids to stop yelling at each other. Where's Supernanny when you need her?

Anyway, Day One has gone smoothly so far. The kids shocked me this morning by sleeping in, having a healthy breakfast and cleaning their rooms. They went outside and played and got fresh air. They went grocery shopping with me and were helpful. They made homemade cards for some friends' upcoming birthday parties.

They're being good. Too good. Something is up. I'm keep you posted.

Happy Father's Day!

2008-06-15T18:26:00.001-07:00

Happy Father's Day to all the dads and father-figures out there! For his special day, my husband wanted to go to Chinatown for a dim sum lunch and to tour the newly remodeled and expanded Wing Luke Asian Museum. Lunch was delicious and the museum tour was fascinating. Will have to blog about that later.

For Father's Day, my husband received cute gifts that the kids made in school and a bottle of Glenlivet scotch from me. That made him happy. Also, I sent my dad a Costco gift card, which is what he asks for. Father's Day is such a different animal from Mother's Day. There are no bombardment of ads for floral arrangements, cutesy stuffed animals or restaurant brunches. I sometimes wonder if men feel left out because their day of recognition arrives with less fanfare, but I doubt it. I've yet to meet a man who genuinely enjoys receiving a Precious Moments figurine or being taken to a restaurant crowded with every other family in town.

I saw a hilarious clip of The Simpsons with a Father's Day theme, posted on Jezebel, a truly awesome Web site. Lisa Simpson creates for her dad a heartfelt book that portrays them as father and daughter unicorns. Homer mocks it and sets Lisa off on a spree of anger. If you like The Simpsons, you know how funny it is to watch Lisa get angry. If you don't like The Simpsons, well, I feel for you but I still think the clip's pretty funny. Click here for the laughs.

Colder Than a Siberian Witch

2008-06-11T14:08:00.000-07:00

It's been pretty cold and rainy here the past few weeks. Windy conditions with temps in the 50s and 60s. While that's considered almost balmy for Western Washington, usually by June we can count on putting on shorts. Right now, we're still dressed in Gortex and fleece. As my husband is fond of saying, "It's colder than a witch's tit." Having never gauged the temperature on one of those, I'll take his word on it.

According to this morning's Seattle Times article, we are now colder than parts of Siberia. That about says it all, doesn't it?

But it's not all doom and gloom. I'm trying be positive: Think of the money I'm saving on sunscreen and air-conditioning! I can keep my pale jiggly legs covered in jeans for a little while longer! My grass is staying green and watered! Um, that's about it for the positive aspects. I let you know if I think of more.

I'm so proud of myself for staying zen about all this weather. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to turn up the thermostat on my heater and take a hot shower.

(Photo Ellen M. Banner/The Seattle Times)

Yoshitomo Nara

2008-06-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

Someone has captured my inner child and his name is Yoshitomo Nara. Of course, anyone who knows my 7-year-old daughter, Miss Thang, would swear that this is actually her, but since she's becoming more like me every day (poor thing), I'll just say he's captured both of us.

Nara is a Tokyo-based artist whose paintings, drawings and sculptures are heavily influenced by Japanese anime, poetry, graffiti and punk rock. His children and animals start off looking innocent enough, but upon close inspection one notices the wary eyes, tight lips and defensive poses. Some have cigarettes hanging out of their mouths while others will offer up an expletive. Are they up to something evil? Do they represent the darker side in all of us? Are they here to kick our butts? I'm not sure what they mean, but they resonate with me and I find them endearing. Yes, I bet a psychoanalyst would have a field day with that.

Since prices on his artwork fall into the "If-you-have-to-ask-it's-out-of-your-league" category, I will probably never own a piece of my inner child's portrait. However, I did pick up Oh! My God! I Miss You! a boxed set of 30 postcards featuring some of his kids and animals. They're beautifully printed on heavy stock. I love them so much I doubt I'll ever share them with anyone. Instead, I shall hoard them for myself and continue to send out the bargain-priced Hallmark stuff. And if anyone has a problem with that, I will give them this face:

Images
Top: Missing in Action, 1999, acrylic on canvas
Bottom: Pyromaniac, 1999, acrylic and colored pencil on paper

Back to the '80s

2008-06-03T23:06:00.000-07:00

We've been offline the past few days due to technical issues. What happened is that we tried to reset something on our wireless router which messed it up and then we couldn't bypass it to hook up directly to our DSL modem, and yadda, yadda, yadda ... you've been there before.

Thankfully we didn't miss out on anything crucial but the cyber-isolation was disconcerting for me. I didn't realize how much I rely on the Internet to communicate with friends, do banking, get the news and entertain myself. On Sunday I was stuck in the house with three 11-year-old boys playing musical instruments at top decibels and when I went to my computer to escape, I remembered I was offline and felt very, very alone.

Watching my son try to deal with it all was most amusing. His class has been studying early American pioneers, so when he asked me how he would get along without the Internet I told him to pretend he was one of the pioneers. He took me seriously.

Yesterday, he stared at the computer, signed loudly and said, "It's like living in the '80s."

Sex and Demons

2008-05-31T19:41:00.000-07:00

Yes, in that order! The rainy weather here has forced me indoors to partake of one of my favorite indoor activities: movies. Recently I joined the many other American women in my demographic group and went to see Sex and the City, which I loved, loved, loved. (Did I say "love" enough times?) It was romantic, sad and funny. I liked the script and the chemistry between the characters. Mr. Big was big-screen handsome. And the shoes and clothes! The bird in Sarah Jessica Parker's head! How about those bridal gowns? The Carolina Herrera version alone was enough to make me want to remarry.

And here is the embarassing confession: I had never seen this show. Not one episode, despite all the praise my friends have heaped upon it and all the media articles that have covered it throughout the years. Yes, I have been living under a rock. I'm not much of a chick-flick kind of gal, but now I may have to Netflix a few seasons' worth of SATC.

To counteract all the visual estrogen, recently I also rented Hellb oy, Guillermo del Toro's 2004 film based on the comic strip about an angst-ridden dem on conjured up by the Nazis who is rescued as an infant and adopted by a loving paranormal researcher. With his unusual strength, Hellboy grows up to defend mankind against the forces of darkness but is constantly at odds with the fact that he is a demon. He is also in love with a woman who is plagued by unwanted powers of her own.

This is a funny, suspenseful and beautifully shot film. I watched it a few years ago but wanted to get in a more recent viewing before the July release of its sequel, Hellboy 2: The Golden Army. I have high expectations for the sequel and I'm very nervous about that. You know how sequels can be. I'm very excited to see it, even if the sun eventually makes an appearance for the summer.

Fremont Sunday Market

2008-05-25T20:29:00.001-07:00

In the spirit of disclosure, I have to admit that we went to the Fremont Sunday Market today and I did not bring my camera. Bad, blogger, bad! I will try to be a better blogger tomorrow. For now, I am using an image from this Web site that provides really good information about the funky, artsy, good-humored neighborhood we call Fremont. This is really what it looked like today: Sunny skies, short-and-Ts weather and a lot of color.

Fremont sits in the northern part of Seattle and is quite an eclectic place. There is a statue of Vladmir Lenin standing near a Taco del Mar eatery and a giant troll grabbing a Volkswagen under a bridge. In the summer, we look forward to the Fremont Solstice Parade, which starts off with creatively painted nude bicyclists zipping by (the uptights have a field day with this one) and continues with an amazingly creative and funny procession of non-commercial, non-motorized displays. I don't think my kids ever see me laugh as much as I do during the parade. If we go this year, I promise to bring my camera.

In Fremont, there is also a corporate presence, represented by companies such as Adobe, Google and Getty Images. As I mentioned, it's pretty eclectic there.

The Fremont Sunday Market is the bomb. There are so many vendors selling food, flowers, produce, textiles, collectibles, used CDs, toys, etc. The dog-watching is pretty fun, too, especially since there are more dogs than children in Seattle. I bought a new cotton bucket-style hat for $10. My son, Mr. Pubescent-Rocker, bought a used Metallica CD for $4 and a used Swiss Army knife for $5. The vendor had a ton of Swiss Army knives in a variety of colors and said they came via airport security confiscation. I got my daughter, Miss Thang, a necklace with carved wooden zebras on it for $1. The necklace really does look as hokey as it sounds, but hey, it was $1, and Miss Thang cherishes it. My husband, the Silent Swede, didn't buy anything, but he did enjoy munching on the fresh Kettle Corn we bought from one of the booths.

Even if you don't buy anything, the Market a fun place to people-watch, chat with the vendors and look around at all the collectibles. I was tempted to buy my sister Lena, who used to worship New Kids on the Block, an old "New Kids Sucks" T-shirt, but I couldn't pony up the $15 asking price. Sorry, Lena. You can always catch them if they do a concert here, because, quelle horreur, they are touring again!

I was also tempted to buy a roll of toilet paper that featured George W. Bush's smiling mug on every square but restrained myself because I AM on a budget. At that same booth, I also refrained from buying the sticker that said, "I see your point but I still think you're full of shit." I'm going to have use that phrase more often.

After we were done with the Market, we walked down about a block to sit near the water, munch a little more on our Kettle Corn and check out all the kayakers, bikers and boaters who came on by. "It's better than watching a movie!" enthused Miss Thang and I have to agree with her.