Showing posts from September, 2005

"Oh No, It's Him Again!"

After reading Mel's post , I was reminded of my short stint as a public library worker. As a lover of reading and all things books, I thought working at a library would be an earthly version of paradise. So I applied at a local district library, and promptly got hired as a page. Now the pages are the poor people you see out on the floor with the little carts, putting the books back on their shelves. Can I just say now that I loathed being a page with every fiber of my being? It was tedious, monotonous work. The only way I could tell the difference between the days was that the titles of the books changed. The worst was when I had to take a cart of children's books. I think one of the attendants derived great pleasure out of the look on my face when I arrived and had carts of children's books to place during my shift. Being so thin, it was possible to place close to one hundred books on a cart, as compared to most regular adult books, which could pack usually twenty,

A Long Fifteen Years Ahead

So for a while, things were glum in Hubba-hubba's world. The Yankees were a good five games out of first place, and not looking like they would even win the wild card slot. With the Yankees in first place at the moment, he is feeling downright cheerful. When he holds Mr. Personality down and tickles him, he forces him to shout, "I love the Yankees, the Yankees are good, the Red Sox are bad!" When Mr. Personality's uncle bought him an Angel's hat and he wore it everywhere for a few weeks, Hubba-Hubba ruefully shook his head that since it was a gift, he couldn't exactly tell him not to wear it. Even though he practically wanted to rip it off his head. Yesterday I slightly disparaged the actual city of Boston, and Hubba-hubba beamed and stated he knew he married me for a reason. But, Mr. Personality is entering the age of being a bit too smart for his own good. He walked up to his dad this morning and made an announcement, with a twinkle in his eye. "I a

What is Wrong With You People?

So on Sunday Hubba-hubba and I had a rare Mr. Personality-free night. We went to see this band at the Hollywood Bowl . The Bowl is a SoCal landmark, the summer home of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, that I absolutely love. It is an outdoor ampitheater carved into the side of a forested hill. As the sun began to set, you simply had to look up to see the small clouds scudding across the sky illuminated to pinks and yellows. It was beautiful and relaxing, and I was looking forward to a wonderful night. The concert began and I am getting into the music, for it has been a very long time since we have seen this particular group perform live. They are actually better live than on CD. Rarely do you hear such awe-inspiring voices that are pitch perfect and in need of no assistance of any kind. And, they were even accompanied by a 50-piece orchestra. Talk about a great show. Another great thing about the Bowl is that they allow you to bring food and alcohol so that you can "picnic&

You Should Be Arrested if You're Not Watching

So there is a show out there that is capable of making Hubba-hubba and myself snort Diet Coke out our nostrils. I have been temporarily unable to breathe due to the laughing fits it has inspired. It has won an Emmy and a Golden Globe for best comedy. Yet 7th Heaven has managed to beat it in the ratings. I am talking about Arrested Development . Do yourself a favor and turn it on, TiVo it, DVR it, whatever. Heck, pop in a VHS for goodness sakes. I don't care what you have to do, just give it a try. Don't worry you won't know what's going on, the narrator takes care of all that for you. Keep an eye out for GOB, he is my favorite. Hubba-hubba's is Buster. And we both love Michael. Better yet, rent the season 1 DVD's and then watch the new shows. I enjoy this show immensely. It's the kind of show where you sit back after it is over and re-enact the show's funniest scenes. So, FOX on Monday night, you or your recorder of choice be there. I love thi

If I Had Only Known Then What I Know Now

So today is Mr. Personality's birthday. A while ago, I posted his birth story, and if you would like to read it, feel free . So much has happened since that C-section three years ago, and I was thinking about the kinds of foolish parenting ideas that were rattling inside my head during what I like to call the PP Era (pre-Personality, or gallons of pee-pee diapers, either one works). Let's stroll down memory lane of one highly naive parent-to-be. I will feed my child nothing but wholesome, organic food. Well, I didn't do too badly on the organic thing when he was an infant, but over time, it has been harder and harder. I do my very best to feed him all organic fruits and vegetables, but sometimes it just doesn't happen. I felt myself cringe inside when he had his first hot dog, but I just couldn't fight the powers (meaning Grandma, who shoves junk food at him as if every child's diet should consist of ice cream and chips). I will breastfeed my child. This

I'd Like Some Answers

Why is it that children's toys are so firmly fastened into their boxes with various pieces of convoluted wire and tape that it takes longer to get them out of the damn box than to actually set them up? Am I the only person who hates book jackets, and takes them off at the first opportunity? What is the strange ESP that all young children possess that allows them to know exactly how urgent your need is to get out the door, and throw a tantrum directly porportional to that need? Why do I always have to be Jeff, the purple Wiggle ? I can tell you there are not many people in the world more diametrically opposite me in looks than Jeff. Are we irresponsible car owners because our car gets washed approximately twice a year? What is with the fact that I still break out occasionally at flippin' age 34? No one ever told me that it NEVER really goes away. Does it make me perfectly evil if I am secretly gloating that my SIL is having another boy, even though this is her 3rd attempt to

Rolling On Through

So on Monday night, a completely uncharacteristic lightning and thunderstorm pounded SoCal for a little less than twenty-four hours. Big deal, you say? Well, those kinds of storms are just not all that common here on the flatland section of SoCal. Up in the mountains and deserts, yes. Down, here, not so much. We just don't get this kind of weather here in September. September is part of the dangerous fire season, when the ground and plants are parched. September is bone dry, and hot. Instead, we got humidity and somewhat cooler weather, if only for a day or so. I was sitting at the computer when the first roll of thunder sounded off to the east. Was that really thunder, I wondered to myself. It had been so very long since I had heard thunder that I was sure that my mind was tricking me, turning the rumble of a large truck or motorcycle into the sound of nature. Another rumble and it was verified as thunder for sure. Then came the lightning, then the rain. I wasn't ev

We Done Bob Proud (Except Perhaps for the Whacking Him to Bits Part)

So in a nutshell, the party was a heckuva lotta fun. I had a giant sand-wheel toy and the kids could not get enough of it since it tended to not only turn very quickly, but send sand flying all over the place. I made waaay to much macaroni and cheese. The kids running around screaming like banshees when the adults would pretend to chase them. (I am sure the neighbors did not find it half as amusing as we did). The food, which included steak, chicken, hot dogs, fruit salad, pasta salad, bbq'd sweet potatoes, and grilled asparagus was a big hit. After opening his gifts, Mr. Personality would exclaim, "Ta-daaaaa!" I beat my mom at ping-pong. The pinata was a pull-string one. But somehow, one of the men found a big stick and everyone began taking turns whaling on poor Bob the Builder. The best part of the party (for me, at least) was my Republican husband urging my son to hit the pinata while shouting, "No unions in this town!" On second thought, maybe you just ha

Happy in Our Double-Wide

So have I mentioned before that Hubba-hubba and I are big posers? By that, I mean that we live in a very affluent area, but we are not affluent at all. I'm not kidding, just less than a quarter of a mile away, there are houses that are selling for over two million dollars. It is rumored that our very own governor Arnold has a pad there. Uh, yeah, our little townhouse is perhaps worth five hundred thousand. We joke that our little townhouse neighborhood is the "white trash" area that everyone else, with their Hummers and Porsches, try to ignore is (gasp) right next to them. I can see them passing by and holding their noses as they gain sight of my place, which could easily fit into some of the garages in that neighborhood. Again, I'm not kidding. But I'm actually ok with being a poser, because it gets me great schools, great shopping, a safe neighborhood, and great parks and city services. Now that I think about it, doesn't being a poser mean that you have so

And We Had to Walk Uphill to School, Both Ways..

So it seems that the world that our children live in is much more kid-centric than when any of us were growing up. I was thinking back to my childhood, and the contrasts between then and now are quite large. We play Mr. Personality's music in the car. Raffi, Disney, classical, you name it. Once in a while, we will try to sneak our own music in, but after a few minutes he asks for his stuff. I don't remember my parents playing any specialty music for me, and I had to sit and listen to whatever they dictated. I can't remember if they had a tape player or not, but certainly there was no Radio Disney like there is now. Crayons and coloring books at restaurants? Are you kidding? I am not even sure if they had specially designated "kids menus" at all back then. There are practically no chain restaurants that do not have children's menus. Maybe that's why we didn't eat out very often. Or because we were poor, or a combination of the two. I was lucky

You Had a Great Time, Remember?

So for the next couple of days, I will be running around like a headless chicken. We are having Mr. Personality's birthday party on Sunday at my sisters house, even though his actual birthday isn't until next week. Various factors, including the very selfish fact that Hubba-hubba and I are attending a long-awaited concert on the 25th, helped us to move it to this weekend. I am expecting about 25 people and the theme will be Bob the Builder. Gee, I'm sure no one saw that one coming. I did a bit of research, and so this will be medium on the "elaborate" scale. We will have orange cones and construction signs to designate the play area, which will have a sandbox with various toys ranging from the traditional shovels to dump trucks. I am thinking to put little "surprises" for them to dig for, but I am undecided as of now. There will also be various ride-on vehicles, a mini bowling game thing I picked up, and a bunch of other toys that I am just going

Postcard Postcript

So those of you that bravely volunteered to give me your addresses, they have been mailed. It was fun for Mr. Personality to put them in the mail slot at the post office, so thank you for giving him the opportunity. I wish I could say we had a big teaching moment about the post office and what they do there, but for some reason it didn't happen. Although while I was at the counter talking to the postal lady about the different prices to mail different sizes of postcards, (who really knew?) a scary looking guy gave Mr. Personality his little "please take a number" ticket. And I never even realized it until I was ready to leave. I freaked out a bit since the unwashed hair guy could have given him a cigarette and I wouldn't have even had a clue. That became the teaching moment. As soon as we got in the car I pounced, "Please don't take anything from strangers without asking mama first, ok?" I don't think I made any particular point with him, so

Consider the Bullet Dodged- At Least For Now

So apparently our hastily erected shrine to the gods of leaky pipes worked. The bad news is that the plumber had to cut the bottom and back out of our bathroom vanity, as well as jackhammer a bit of slab in order to reach the offending pipe. The good news is that it was just reachable, and he was able to fix it. The even better news is that because he is a personal friend of Hubba-hubba's, he only charged us one hundred bucks. I told Hubba-hubba that the leaky-pipe gods liked my offering of lemon cookies better than his turkey jerky. I mean, who wouldn't?

Something to Think About

So if you are in a pensive mood, go ahead and read this . Why is it viewed as such a horrible thing by some people that the government help people? With the push by the religious right to incorporate religious principles into government, wouldn't helping the poor go front and center? I thought that is what Jesus was all about, helping the least of our brothers. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Yet all these resources go into teaching creationism in schools, while poverty-stricken families go without medical care. I just don't understand. Text from Matthew # Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. # Blessed are the meek: for they shall posses the land. # Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted. # Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill. # Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. # Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God. # Blessed are the peacemakers: for they

Soapbox Saturday

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Gina's Atomic Clock

So I am nothing if not a punctual person. I absolutely loathe being late. To anything. I can probably count on my hand the number of times in the past ten years that I have arrived even five minutes late to something. Even with Mr. Personality in tow, I show up on time, or even early. It is just an aspect of my personality that will not go away, no matter how hard I try to be nonchalant about my arrival. I just have this inner clock that ticks very loudly in my head, pressuring me to just get there already. I used to have a horrible time with other people. I didn't get my driver's license until I was 18, and so I had my friends pick me up and take me places. Even back in high school, I was anal about getting to class on time. During my senior year, Yvette was my ride since she lived only a block or so away. Yvette was a nice enough person, but she would roar up to my house in her new Mustang, already 10 minutes behind. I, on the other hand, had been ready 15 minute

If I Command it to Go Away, Does it Have to Listen to Me Because I Live Here?

So there I was, sitting in the bathroom, minding my own damn business. Then, a sound comes floating into my eardrums. A familiar, whoooshing, rushing sound that means our lives are probably going to become extremely complicated. It sounded exactly like the last time when we had a pipe that was leaking. The problem with a leaky pipe in our place is that we have a cement slab foundation. It is not possible to go in and replace the leaky pipe. Ok, well it is, if you have a mind to jackhammer your entire floor and walls in order to reach said pipe/s. Hubba-hubba conveniently called in the middle of my intense listening session. I told him my fear. He cussed. He reminded me that if I was to go and turn the main water valve off, that would be a pretty valid way to check. If whoooshing sound dissipated, ergo, leaky pipe/s. I shut it off, and I swear I didn't hear it anymore. Then I went back to make a second confirmation and I think my mind began playing tricks on me. I will check

I Don't Think He Likes the Color Green Anymore

So up until this point, I have considered myself fairly lucky in the child fear and phobia department. At certain points, Mr. Personality would say he was scared of the dark, and perhaps he was. But, it always promptly went away, and just the other day he was hanging out in his darkened bedroom with no problems. He does like to sleep with his blankie, though, and I can't say as I blame him. My sister bought him this ultra soft blankie that just totally caresses the skin and feels so very nice. The original cost was around $80, but she got it on sale for half off. Seriously, I would sleep with a blanket like that if I had one. As we were ready to begin the nightly bedtime story ritual, I realized that blankie, who had been doubling as a magic cape earlier in the afternoon, was still in the kitchen. I told him to go ahead and get it, and he did his adorable little jog out of his bedroom toward the kitchen. The next second, I am confronted with a hysterical, howling, teary Mr.

Postcard, Anyone?

So now that things have slowed down a bit over here, I would like to offer people a postcard from the great state of California! The ones I have are mostly from Disneyland, and some of them with LA stuff. If you would like one, just go ahead and send me an email with your address and I will try to get one out to you. C'mon, it'll be fun!

Stumbling Around

So I have discovered something that has become dangerously addictive. Most of the time, I can't stop myself, and I know that everything is good in moderation. But it is just so tempting, I can't help myself... I am talking about this site . You simply sign up and pick some inocuous user name, it doesn't have to be real or anything. Then, you choose the topics offered that are of interest to you. Yes, it seems a bit skewed towards younger males, and yes, there could be more topics, but it is enough for now. Then, you install and this little button goes on your toolbar named "Stumble!" This is very interesting because it points me to some great sites that I otherwise would never have found. The more you rate the sites you are directed to, the more precise the service becomes in delivering ones that will meet your interests. I have bookmarked a bunch of sites from this, and even if I don't bookmark them, most of them are at least entertaining to read or look

Saturday Soapbox

So Hubba-hubba and I have been having some very interesting conversations about the role and responsibility of government, with particular reference to the response (or lack thereof) to Hurricane Katrina. While admitting that FEMA, or whatever it is they now call themselves after being folded into Homeland Security, did not do a very good job, he still believes that it is the primary responsibility of the local and state authorities to prepare and execute disaster plans. I, on the other hand, feel that that I pay taxes for FEMA and it had better get in there quickly and do what it is designed to do, which is provide relief to disaster victims. Again, I don't think anyone disagrees that the response to Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans was unacceptable. However, I think it boils down to an interestingly "Republican" versus "Democrat" view. From what I gather from Hubba-hubba's opinions as a Republican, the federal government is sort of a last resort. All t

Imelda's Got Nothing on Hubba-hubba

So I was folding laundry tonight before getting on the computer. I told myself that I was going to fold all of it, and then reward myself with uninterrupted time farting around on the internet. Usually I will fold, break, fold, break, and so on. But because this past week has been fairly hectic, there was a lot of laundry to fold. I knew myself better than to think I would want to go back to the huge piles that were taunting me with my laziness every time I stepped into my bedroom. You see, I have no problem doing the laundry, it is the folding that gets me every time. I like clean clothes as much as the next gal, I just don't like to sit there and watch my bed turn into a mini-Manhattan of clothes stacks. And then I still have to put them away, which can be even worse. I am without the services of the much-vaunted Personal Clean Panty Provider , so I am stuck providing them to myself. Also, now that I have an iPod, I refuse to fold without it, and Mr. Personality had someho

Memories of the Big Easy

Some thoughts and memories of our trip to New Orleans about six or seven years ago. The "swamp tour" we took. The beauty of the marshland in that area is astounding. This was our first time witnessing that type of geography, and we will never forget when the operator allowed Hubba-hubba to drive the boat all by himself, going at least 20 mph. We did see the small beady eyes of an alligator. The riverboat tour of the Mississippi, with its Creole buffet and jazz band. I remember specifically being dismayed by all the refineries and businesses built up on either side of the river. I had this grand thought of seeing the Mississippi of Mark Twain, but it was not to be. Eating beignets at the Cafe du Monde. I even sucked it up and drank coffee with them, because dangit, that is how you are supposed to eat them. They were delicious, but the coffee wasn't. The "Haunted New Orleans" tour that we also took. The graveyards that we saw are what I remember most. I ha