Isaac is a fixator when it comes to TV shows. He chooses one and really dedicates himself to it, watching episodes over and over, talking about each plot and character as if they actually existed, until he finds (or we force him to find) another one to obsess over. And why yes, I do realize the nerd potential in this one is BIG, and he hasn't even seen "Star Wars" yet!
Anyway, his latest TV show paramour is a Noggin show called "Pinky Dinky Doo." Even though the title reminds me of a sexual maneuver a long ago boyfriend really enjoyed before he finally came out of the closet, it simply involves a girl, her brother, and their guinea pig telling each other stories in order to solve problems. It's quite charming, and I highly recommend it for you to watch it between trips to the French Riviera.
Anyway, the whole point of this blog was the pinky dinky joke, so please pardon me if I'm laughing too hard to continue writing.
Tim and I went to pick Isaac up from preschool, and when all three of us got into the car, Tim wrinkled his nose and cried, "Ugh, it stinks in here!"
I had just opened up a fresh bottle of air freshener earlier that day, so I responded, "Oh, you'd rather the car smell like ass?" Because, you know, it did.
"Smelling ass would tickle," chimed a little voice in the backseat.
We think he meant "ants" but we're not too sure. We were too stunned to analyze further.
Before I begin, let me just say that I am not a wimp! I swear to you, I'm not!
But honest to god, I can't step into my backyard anymore. My poor vegetable garden, our baby trees, they are all wilting from neglect. But I just can't do it -- every time I step out, I feel them all around me and it creeps me out. I know they're out there, hiding in the shadows, a little less afraid of me than I am of them. And there are so many of them, all I can do is look out the window and wish I wasn't so neurotic.
Who are my nemeses? Oh, these tiny little brown spiders, brown recluse spiders to be precise. They're small but they can fuck your shit up. Look up "brown recluse bite" on Google Images (click here if you dare) and you can see for yourself. Yeah. I don't want that to happen to me or the kids, thank you.
"Oh Julie, you know there are thousands of these spiders everywhere, and they're so reclusive, you won't even know they're there."
Oh yeah, know-it-all? Picture this:
Their egg sacs are EVERYWHERE. They are strung along both our backyard gates, inside Emily's wagon, under my bike seat, in shoes...god knows how many are in the garage (I don't even go in there anymore). Dozens of eggs sacs we've had to destroy so far, and for every group of egg sacs, there's a mama recluse guarding them in the shadows. And some of those mamas are HUGE, and all of them are fast and angry. Oh MAN, they are quick and impossible to squish. Evolutionarily, Tim and I are completely outmatched by these gals. The only tool we've found so far that is remotely useful is a blowtorch. A small, creme brulee-sized blowtorch. The heat makes them crawl out of their hiding places, wither up, and die.
Let me assure you that I do not take pleasure in killing these creatures. They are beautiful in their own way, I'm sure they kept our insect level down thus far, and they are quite inventive and protective mamas. But imagine how many of them are out there when they have to resort to such exposed places to lay their eggs! And my kids know no boundaries...they stick their fingers into any random holes, and all of our holes we have found have been occupied. Isaac places old web-filled buckets straight onto his head...Emily dares to ride her wagon...I dare to place my bare ass on my bicycle seat (omigod I can't believe I've been riding around on that thing in a sundress and I've been taking a mama and 2,000,000 of her babies for a ride all this time)...I can't even walk two feet without feeling their ultra-strong web silk on my leg. They have totally taken over and I'm a mess.
I asked our neighbors if they had a similar problem. They told me they get a couple black widows every so often, but no recluses at all. They also told me that they get their backyard sprayed every 3 months, and pretty much everyone in the neighborhood does as well. Well, shit! No wonder our unsprayed, urban hippie organic backyard has become the brown recluse ComicCon! Everyone else is killing off their food!
So fuck, either I grow a pair and coexist with these poisonous mothers and risk a necrotic buttcheek or two...or we spray pesticides. What would Alice Waters do???? Any advice appreciated.
I feel absolutely terrible today. I have a headache, body aches (especially in my neck and shoulders), all food feels like sandpaper in my throat. Funny thing is, I don't think I have an infection. I think it's psychosomatic. I have Palinitis.
Totally against my will, yesterday I was subjected to 2 hours of Palin speeches, sound bytes, and punditry via CNN blaring from the customer lobby at my local Honda service department.
I didn't watch her original speech (or anything from the RNC) prior to this, and that was a purposeful decision. I knew there was going to be a big sea of smug white people congratulating themselves and lying about what an awesome job they were doing. I knew Palin was going to go balls-out and rag on anyone with blue on their shirts.
But hearing her over and over again, those stupid quotes about "being a mayor of a small town is kinda like being a community organizer, huh huh huh huh..." and the "pitbulls and lipstick" shit and the "Obama wrote 2 memoirs and didn't pass a single major law" lie, ugh, it made me sick. Sick sick sick.
But why? Jezebel ventures a guess. Pretty good, in my opinion. But I don't think my illness is because I am jealous of the homecoming queen. I am angry with her insanely messed up values and her doubletalk.
"Feminists for Life"? George Orwell, are you listening? If she had her way, even rape victims cannot terminate pregnancies? Wh-wh-wh-what? Her teenage daughter gets knocked up and then Palin trots her and her boyfriend around the stage like "look at the happy couple!!!" Or, trying to fire your state librarian because she didn't want to ban the books you wanted banned? She is also in favor of people renting private airplanes to chase wolves (a threatened species) around and then shoot them when they get tired? Is that ethical? Does anyone else feel like all this just shows what a cold-hearted person she is?
Oh there I go again, I just burst into hives. I have a major case of Palinitis, and I hope to god other people do, too. This lady makes Newt Gingrich look like the bearskin rug in her office:
4:07 AM - It sucks to be a girl sometimes
Current mood: melancholy
Emily's bedtime ritual consists of me lying in the dark with her while she tosses and turns for 30-60 minutes. It's hard not to feel like it's a waste of time for me, since she doesn't really need me for anything. So two days ago, I just wished her a "Good night" and left her to go to sleep on her own. Thirty minutes later, I peeked in and she was snoring away. Yesterday went smoothly as well.
Today was different. I gave her a kiss good night and left, and she came out 10 minutes later, bleary-eyed. I picked her up and put her back in the bed, thinking that was that. A couple minutes later, I thought heard her say something. I ran back to the room, and I found her on her feet, her face buried into the side of the mattress, crying her eyes out. I recognized that cry immediately: it was the cry of "I can be big, I need to be big, but right now I feel so small."
So I scooped her up and snuggled with her on the bed like old times. It took a little while for her breathing to slow back down and for her to succumb to sleep, but I stayed with her, my heart in pieces. I thought about how many times I cried like that, and how I still cry like that, and how incredibly lonely and hopeless it feels to have a huge task suddenly foisted on inexperienced shoulders.
Every time it happens to me, I look around for someone to share the load, and usually I'm out of luck. In this day and age, by the time you're despairing, people want nothing to do with you. They want a wink and a smile, Mae West and Jackie Kennedy, effortless perfection. They have too much of their own problems to wrestle with to worry about someone else's. Or maybe they don't really but they claim they do so they don't have to help you pick up the mess.
Well, fuck that shit; for as long as Emily wants me, I'll be there to help her when she feels small. Even if my very presence causes her extreme grief and embarrassment and she seeks comfort elsewhere, I'll be warming the bench on the sidelines. Because one day, that feeling will sit like a lion on her chest, and it will take all her strength just to gulp for air. Maybe it will be school pressure, a broken relationship, or the weight of her own ambition, but she will look around for an ally, and all she'll find are more lions. I hope she'll call me then, or at least the morning after. I'll wait with her for the lions to get bored and leave.
I don't really feel like putting my writing cap on today, so here's some mental splooge:
Banksy has hit New Orleans! I can't add any actual images here, but you can see them here. And here's to saluting the residents of NOLA on the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. And here's to hoping that Gustav gets out of their way soon.
Also on my mind is the Democratic National Convention. It was very affirming to see Joe Biden introduce himself and I absolutely fell in love with the Obamas again (images from Political Nanny on Babble). Look at this family!!!
Just look at their little one, Sasha.
It was a long night for the little munchkin!
Speaking of little munchkins, take a look at the newest addition to our family:
It's our baby eggplant! So precious!
I'm still reeling from Monday night's Radiohead concert at the Hollywood Bowl. I can't talk about it coherently so I won't even try, except that it was by far the best show I've seen them do.
Here's me in our box seat before the show.
Here's a shot of the craziness that ensued:
This week while I was inside the Ashtray Motel I made an iPod playlist called "Heartbreaker" that has the 16 saddest lost-love songs I could remember. I can't get halfway through without weeping.
1. Black Winged Bird, Nina Persson 2. Battleships, Travis 3. Rain, Patty Griffin 4. Black, Pearl Jam 5. Troubled Mind, Kula Shaker 6. The Rip, Portishead 7. Running Up That Hill, Placebo 8. Other Side of the World, KT Tunstall 9. Masterfade, Andrew Bird 10. Red, Elbow 11. The District Sleeps Alone, The Postal Service 12. Am I Right?, Erasure 13. Bete Noire, The Gutter Twins 14. Protection, Kent 15. All You Wanted, Michelle Branch 16. Hold On, Sarah McLachlan
4:17 AM - Try Not to Breathe
Current mood: annoyed
Do you remember that REM song? "Try Not to Breathe" is possibly my favorite song on "Automatic for the People." Here's the song accompanied by a cheesy non-video:
Anyway, I am LIVING this song. I am trying not to breathe, holding my body still as to not move the air around me. I am in a smoking hotel room! I requested non-smoking, I paid for non-smoking, and they gave me smoking because there are no rooms left. Serves me right for checking in at 8:30pm, I suppose.
There is a big sign on my door that states:
WARNING This is a designated smoking room. As a result, this room contains chemicals known to the state of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm.
THANKS FOR THE WARNING, BUNGHOLES. As I rock my thalidomide baby to sleep, I will gently rub her flippered hands and think fondly on this sign. "See baby?" I'll whisper into her ear nub. "That was how I became your mommy." Her fused eyes will flicker with what I know is affection.
In all seriousness, it fucking stinks in here. Every inhalation burns my nose hairs anew, and I just know the clothes I spent yesterday painstakingly ironing will reek tomorrow. Which is awesome, because we have clients coming over to work, and nothing makes quite an impression as having a human ashtray for a programmer.
I used to be a smoker, so part of me feels like I shouldn't complain. But when you're on that side of the cigarette, smoking actually tastes good and feels awesome. This is not the smell of smoke. It's the smell of petrochemical preservative byproducts and lung tumors. I will attempt to sleep in this chemical stew now. Here's to hoping I awake in the morning.
10:14 PM - Shoutouts to my Peeps
Current mood: relaxed
It's Sunday afternoon request hour here at the Mang compound. We had a nice morning playdate, went to the Japanese market, and now the kids and Daddy are curled up in the bunk bed watching "Caillou" on DVD.
I'm feelin' like dedicating some tunes to my family.
To Emily, my chubby little mirror
To Isaac, with his Kevlar heart that constantly defies me, but always forgives me
To Tim, who, like it or not, has saved my life multiple times
My 2nd cousin is getting married today. Actually, that's a bit of a lie. She already got married last weekend in a ceremony in Korea (she married a "native"), and this is the American reception. Point is, it's fancy and I'll have to dress up. God help us all.
This is my post-baby dressing up process (I've only done it a handful of times, so things aren't quite ironed down):
1. Get rid of excess leg hair. Today I chose to get it waxed. It lasts longer, and I tend to enjoy pain.
2. Clean up hobbit feet. This was the best my pedicurist Celine could do:
For those of you who just threw up a little, I warned you. HOBBIT FEET. I HAS DEM.
3. Check highlights in hair to make sure I don't look like a swamp monster. I look kinda like a swamp monster, as the purple has come out of some parts but stayed in others. Oh well.
4. Hire babysitter, preferably not from Craigslist. We had to resort to Craigslist today. Oh well.
5. Make sure house is stocked with diapers, wipes, clean bottles, food and drink, nothing too nauseating strewn about.
6. Grab any dress and take out all the dog hair.
7. Run to the nearest beauty supply store after you realized you have no make-up anymore. Contemplate a shade of red lipstick you know will get you dirty looks from your mom and all the other Koreans. Buy it anyway.
8. Any procrastination can be done through reading the news or blogs online. Like, ooh, did you know Obama picked Joe Biden to be his running mate? Of course you did, because Barack texted you directly. Well, he texted me at least, at 1 in the morning! Booty call from Barack!
8a. Lose your shit over pictures like this: (John McCain and possible running mate Meg Whitman, courtesy of Valleywag)
9. Run out of the house, trying to ignore your daughter's screams of terror. Run straight to the bar and drown your anxieties in a sea of champagne. Gift the lovely couple $100-$500 wrapped in some rice paper with this checklist printed on it, and wonder why you didn't receive a thank-you card.
4:26 AM - Isaac the Sassafras
Current mood: amused
Isaac is slowly inching his way towards 5, and although he's not growing physically, his sass level is going through a bit of a growth spurt.
Some examples:
1. Lately we've been on a campaign to not turn on the TV until the living room and Isaac's room are clean. That basically means no toys on the floor. Isaac wanted to watch some show or another, and does a half-assed pass through the living room. He says "How about now?" and I point to the 2 dozen legos still strewn all over the floor.
Mama: [points at mess of toys] How about you pick that up? Isaac: [points at Mama's belly] How about you pick that up?
The incorrigible lad, I swear! Where is my beating stick?
2. Emily and Isaac were sitting at the breakfast table munching on toast triangles. Isaac finished his slice, walked over to me and snuggled on my lap on the couch. Emily got jealous and started squawking in protest. Isaac sighed wearily, rolled his eyes and said "Ohhh okaayyy," and reluctantly lumbered over to her high chair. He asked her, "What's the matter now, Emily?" She squawked "Dere!!!!" and jabbed her finger where he had been sitting at the kitchen table. He again sighed, "Ohhh alright, whatever you want" and sat back down at the table.
Where in the world did he learn such phrases? Harrumph!
3. We were at a Dodger game on Sunday and some fans next to us were eating some peanuts and naturally threw the shells on the floor. When they left to score some better seats, Isaac starts climbing toward their chairs and stops dead in his tracks. He points to the shells and cries, "What in the? What? What? What in the hhhhhhheck?" Actually, those shells bothered Emily too. Every time she saw them she'd put her hands on top of her head in indignation and say "Oooooh!!!"
4. Tim reminded me of another one. Yesterday after dinner, we were in the car and Isaac kept asking if we were going to get ice cream. Each time he asked, we said yes, in fact we were. He asked again, so I snapped "Look, we already said we're going to get it, and we will go get ice cream once you stop asking."
Isaac then completes my sentence: "...if we're going to get ice cream?"
Currently
listening
:
2
By
Darker My Love
Release date: 2008-08-05
triumphant
intense
crazy
scared
sick
pleased
melancholy
lazy
awake
annoyed
relaxed
stressed
amused
impressed
