3.29.2007
3.27.2007
3.25.2007
That's what I've been over doing the past week, acquiring things. Specifically:
1 dress, black, for the wedding in May
1 necklace, silver, to wear with the dress
1 pair earrings, silver, to complement the necklace
2 tops, one for work, one for play
3 flavored lip glosses, blackberry, peach, and lime (clear, not green)
1 small tube Jergens Natural Glow moisturizing cream for face, Medium
1 large tube Jergens Natural Glow Firming moisturizing lotion for body, Medium
1 accent lamp
1 antique-look globe
1 Dunkin Donuts coconut iced coffee, medium
1 wall hanging to go over our couch
1 30 gig iPod, white
1 2007 Mercury Milan V6 Premier, black
Oops, we bought a car. Our lease isn't up for four months, but we've been thinking for a while about what we wanted to get. We kept coming back to the Milan, the Camry, or another Accord. We voted down the Accord because we have one now and as much as we've loved it, the 2007 model looks pretty much the same as the 2004 and we wanted a change. We voted down the Camry because we weren't crazy about the 2007 styling. Milan, being the prettiest and the cheapest of the three, became an attractive alternative. An American car, I know! But Consumer Reports recommends it (thanks Dad), and there was a 2.9% financing deal, and they had what we wanted on the lot, and we got it for less than even we were anticipating (thanks Edmunds.com). Plus, in a few years, we'll have to replace Joe's car, so at that point we'll have the Milan paid off and it can become our secondary vehicle and we can use his current one as a trade on a new primary vehicle (I'm thinking Lexus...heh).
I'm still kicking ass on low-carb: so far, so good. Energy, it's nice to see you again! Have fun hanging out with your pal Determination. Why don't you go cozy up to Motivation and Willpower? Those fickle bitches need to be tamed.
1 dress, black, for the wedding in May
1 necklace, silver, to wear with the dress
1 pair earrings, silver, to complement the necklace
2 tops, one for work, one for play
3 flavored lip glosses, blackberry, peach, and lime (clear, not green)
1 small tube Jergens Natural Glow moisturizing cream for face, Medium
1 large tube Jergens Natural Glow Firming moisturizing lotion for body, Medium
1 accent lamp
1 antique-look globe
1 Dunkin Donuts coconut iced coffee, medium
1 wall hanging to go over our couch
1 30 gig iPod, white
1 2007 Mercury Milan V6 Premier, black
Oops, we bought a car. Our lease isn't up for four months, but we've been thinking for a while about what we wanted to get. We kept coming back to the Milan, the Camry, or another Accord. We voted down the Accord because we have one now and as much as we've loved it, the 2007 model looks pretty much the same as the 2004 and we wanted a change. We voted down the Camry because we weren't crazy about the 2007 styling. Milan, being the prettiest and the cheapest of the three, became an attractive alternative. An American car, I know! But Consumer Reports recommends it (thanks Dad), and there was a 2.9% financing deal, and they had what we wanted on the lot, and we got it for less than even we were anticipating (thanks Edmunds.com). Plus, in a few years, we'll have to replace Joe's car, so at that point we'll have the Milan paid off and it can become our secondary vehicle and we can use his current one as a trade on a new primary vehicle (I'm thinking Lexus...heh).
I'm still kicking ass on low-carb: so far, so good. Energy, it's nice to see you again! Have fun hanging out with your pal Determination. Why don't you go cozy up to Motivation and Willpower? Those fickle bitches need to be tamed.
3.20.2007
When I went in to get Olivia out of her crib Sunday morning, instead of seeing little feet waving in the air, I saw two little eyes peering over the rail. “Look at you!” I exclaimed. “Holy crap!” So we lowered the crib mattress, or in about two days she’d figure out how to pull herself up, get curious about what was beyond the bumper, and fall out.
Sunday afternoon I caught up with the girls at Crowley’s. We sat at the corner of the bar, had a couple beers, and met the man himself, Bob Crowley. I was starving when I arrived and ordered a grilled chicken salad…. little ranch, little buffalo sauce, so good. I also drank fake beer—Michelob Ultra. I missed my Stella, but Mick Ultra will have to do while I am hardcore low-carbing. While I was boozing it up, Joe was at home folding laundry, going grocery shopping, and baby wrangling. I love nontraditional gender roles. Go fix me a turkey pot pie!
When I got home, Joe told me that Olivia had been crying and crying, in the grocery store, at the Mac store, and during dinner. She never does that, and when I scooped her up she looked so fragile and drained, and my heart went out to her. I cuddled her, fed her her last bottle, and tried to put her to bed. She screamed in her crib. I felt wracked with guiltguiltguiltguiltguiltGUILT. Last night she cried too, but not as long. I peeked in on her and she was sleeping soundly on her tummy, head to the side. She sleeps on her stomach all the time now. We put her down on her back and she flips over almost immediately. She must like it better. I know I do.
Speaking of low-carbing, today is Day 7 of Being Good. I hate to call it that, but that’s what I always end up saying: “None for me, I’m being good.” There is a row of greens on my food intake chart and it gives me perverse pleasure. Oh yes, didn’t you know I have an anal tracking spreadsheet? I totally do. It’s numbered, dated, and has columns for food, water, and comments. It used to have an exercise column too, but the getting to the gym is pretty much a pipe dream these days. Every day, I color the number cell green, yellow or red. The geeky part of me that loves lists and surveys finds much gratification in the process of logging and evaluating.
The fact that I’ve gone a full week bodes well. When I start out, I can never tell if I’m serious. Sometimes I get all riled up and determined and then screw it up the same day. It seems like the more halfhearted I am, the better it sticks, maybe because I accept what I have to do rather than bursting out in frustration. Joe and I have a wedding to attend in May, so that’s the milestone I’m focusing on. It’s not so far off that I feel like I’m never going to make it, but it’s long enough to see some results. After that, I’ll set another milestone. Summer is always easier, not just because of the showing skin factor, but because meat tastes so much better grilled. The long term milestone is the end of the year, when we might think about having another baby (ahh!). That, however, does feel a long way off.
Sunday afternoon I caught up with the girls at Crowley’s. We sat at the corner of the bar, had a couple beers, and met the man himself, Bob Crowley. I was starving when I arrived and ordered a grilled chicken salad…. little ranch, little buffalo sauce, so good. I also drank fake beer—Michelob Ultra. I missed my Stella, but Mick Ultra will have to do while I am hardcore low-carbing. While I was boozing it up, Joe was at home folding laundry, going grocery shopping, and baby wrangling. I love nontraditional gender roles. Go fix me a turkey pot pie!
When I got home, Joe told me that Olivia had been crying and crying, in the grocery store, at the Mac store, and during dinner. She never does that, and when I scooped her up she looked so fragile and drained, and my heart went out to her. I cuddled her, fed her her last bottle, and tried to put her to bed. She screamed in her crib. I felt wracked with guiltguiltguiltguiltguiltGUILT. Last night she cried too, but not as long. I peeked in on her and she was sleeping soundly on her tummy, head to the side. She sleeps on her stomach all the time now. We put her down on her back and she flips over almost immediately. She must like it better. I know I do.
Speaking of low-carbing, today is Day 7 of Being Good. I hate to call it that, but that’s what I always end up saying: “None for me, I’m being good.” There is a row of greens on my food intake chart and it gives me perverse pleasure. Oh yes, didn’t you know I have an anal tracking spreadsheet? I totally do. It’s numbered, dated, and has columns for food, water, and comments. It used to have an exercise column too, but the getting to the gym is pretty much a pipe dream these days. Every day, I color the number cell green, yellow or red. The geeky part of me that loves lists and surveys finds much gratification in the process of logging and evaluating.
The fact that I’ve gone a full week bodes well. When I start out, I can never tell if I’m serious. Sometimes I get all riled up and determined and then screw it up the same day. It seems like the more halfhearted I am, the better it sticks, maybe because I accept what I have to do rather than bursting out in frustration. Joe and I have a wedding to attend in May, so that’s the milestone I’m focusing on. It’s not so far off that I feel like I’m never going to make it, but it’s long enough to see some results. After that, I’ll set another milestone. Summer is always easier, not just because of the showing skin factor, but because meat tastes so much better grilled. The long term milestone is the end of the year, when we might think about having another baby (ahh!). That, however, does feel a long way off.
3.15.2007
Awesome idea! Stolen from guinnessgirl, by way of Red:
Opening Credits: Australia – the Shins
Waking Up Scene: (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? – Oasis
Car Driving Scene: If I’d Been the One – .38 Special
High School Flashback Scene: Sick of Myself – Matthew Sweet
Nostalgia Scene: Time After Time – Cyndi Lauper
Bitter, Angry Scene: All the Pretty Faces – the Killers
Break-up Scene: Don't Change Your Plans – Ben Folds
Regret Scene: Pray Your Gods – Toad the Wet Sprocket
Fuck it Out Scene: Mulder and Scully - Catatonia
Nightclub/Bar Scene: Bohemian Like You – Dandy Warhols
Fight/Action Scene: The Gauntlet – Dropkick Murphys
You Got Served Scene: Renegade Master - Wildchild
Sad, downtrodden scene: Pensacola – Joan Osborne
Death Scene: Breathe Me - Sia
Funeral Scene: Hail to Whatever You Found in the Sunlight that Surrounds You – Rilo Kiley
Mellow/Pot-smoking Scene: Cinnamon Girl – Neil Young
Dreaming About Someone Scene: You Are Everything – the Stylistics
Sex Scene: Electrical Storm – U2
Contemplation Scene: Mona Lisa – Guster
Chase Scene: Going to Pasalacqua – Green Day
Happy Love Scene: Two Step – Dave Matthews Band
Happy Friend Scene: Mr. Jones – Counting Crows
Closing Credits: Lucky – Til Tuesday
Opening Credits: Australia – the Shins
Waking Up Scene: (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? – Oasis
Car Driving Scene: If I’d Been the One – .38 Special
High School Flashback Scene: Sick of Myself – Matthew Sweet
Nostalgia Scene: Time After Time – Cyndi Lauper
Bitter, Angry Scene: All the Pretty Faces – the Killers
Break-up Scene: Don't Change Your Plans – Ben Folds
Regret Scene: Pray Your Gods – Toad the Wet Sprocket
Fuck it Out Scene: Mulder and Scully - Catatonia
Nightclub/Bar Scene: Bohemian Like You – Dandy Warhols
Fight/Action Scene: The Gauntlet – Dropkick Murphys
You Got Served Scene: Renegade Master - Wildchild
Sad, downtrodden scene: Pensacola – Joan Osborne
Death Scene: Breathe Me - Sia
Funeral Scene: Hail to Whatever You Found in the Sunlight that Surrounds You – Rilo Kiley
Mellow/Pot-smoking Scene: Cinnamon Girl – Neil Young
Dreaming About Someone Scene: You Are Everything – the Stylistics
Sex Scene: Electrical Storm – U2
Contemplation Scene: Mona Lisa – Guster
Chase Scene: Going to Pasalacqua – Green Day
Happy Love Scene: Two Step – Dave Matthews Band
Happy Friend Scene: Mr. Jones – Counting Crows
Closing Credits: Lucky – Til Tuesday
3.12.2007
I’m having myself a little mourning session for Brad Delp today. This morning I blasted Boston’s greatest hits on my way to work. When Lola and I went out for coffee, I still had it on and we talked about what a loss it is and that he was too young. My heart goes out to his fiancée, his kids, and his fans. When I heard him referred to as “the nicest guy in rock and roll,” it reminded me that musicians exist outside of their records, that they become middle aged and live locally and continue to share their music with appreciative, albeit smaller, audiences.
Boston is one of my top 5 bands. In college, I used to play “Don’t Look Back” so often it felt like my theme song. “A Man I’ll Never Be” is the one I like to belt out at top volume when I’m alone in the car. “Let Me Take You Home Tonight” is like a phenomenal third date of miniature golf and ice cream. The ethereal intro to “Something About You” causes me to collapse against the nearest wall and sigh.
I make no apologies about loving cheesy arena rock. Boston’s songs make me wish I were twenty years older. They represent what was good and free about the late seventies: in the post-Vietnam world of gasoline shortages and macramé, with Reaganomics just a few short years away, the music was idyllic. It embodied endless summer: romance, muscle tees, heartbreak, Miller High Life, and the freedom for white boys to rock giant afros. I once read something about “More Than a Feeling” being the musical equivalent of one’s older brother washing his car in the driveway. It’s so true, and I never even had a brother.
Anyway. Godspeed, Brad.
3.07.2007
I’m with Red; it’s too cold. I’m dying for summer: open windows, classic rock, lobster rolls, Bumble & Bumble Surf Spray, pedicures, coconut shampoo, Adirondack chairs, road trips. The yearning is unbearable, the way it always gets at the end of winter. But we turn the clocks ahead this weekend, and that’s the first step towards spring, thank fucking god.
Joe and I are trying to figure out what to do this summer, what kind of vacation we’d like to take and how to do it with a one-year-old. I don’t think we want to fly, or leave the country, but we definitely want and need to go somewhere. We’ve been tossing around the options: the Cape, the Berkshires, Lake George, Lake Winnipesaukee, Lake Champlain, Newport, Block Island, etc.
This is when I mourn for camp. Camp was the perfect summer escape: unpretentious, old-school, totally disconnected from real life, and always there. It was just two little cottages in the Maine woods, situated at the end of a winding dirt road. Being up at camp was all about swimming with my cousins, picking wild blueberries, getting sunburned, visiting flea markets, gathering pinecones, slapping mosquitoes, eating ice cream at wooden picnic tables—everything a kid could want out of summer. I so wish we could bring Olivia there. How adorable is a pudgy baby sitting at water’s edge, wearing a bathing suit and ruffled sunbonnet, playing with a plastic bucket and toy shovel, tiny feet covered in sand? So cute it kills me, and it kills me even more that she won't have the same idyllic experiences I had there.
I was so overwhelmed with nostalgia for camp, I made a photo collage. See?
The rest of these are pictures of actual camp:
Joe and I are trying to figure out what to do this summer, what kind of vacation we’d like to take and how to do it with a one-year-old. I don’t think we want to fly, or leave the country, but we definitely want and need to go somewhere. We’ve been tossing around the options: the Cape, the Berkshires, Lake George, Lake Winnipesaukee, Lake Champlain, Newport, Block Island, etc.
This is when I mourn for camp. Camp was the perfect summer escape: unpretentious, old-school, totally disconnected from real life, and always there. It was just two little cottages in the Maine woods, situated at the end of a winding dirt road. Being up at camp was all about swimming with my cousins, picking wild blueberries, getting sunburned, visiting flea markets, gathering pinecones, slapping mosquitoes, eating ice cream at wooden picnic tables—everything a kid could want out of summer. I so wish we could bring Olivia there. How adorable is a pudgy baby sitting at water’s edge, wearing a bathing suit and ruffled sunbonnet, playing with a plastic bucket and toy shovel, tiny feet covered in sand? So cute it kills me, and it kills me even more that she won't have the same idyllic experiences I had there.
I was so overwhelmed with nostalgia for camp, I made a photo collage. See?
The rest of these are pictures of actual camp:
