Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Weird sick person
On the other hand, when I first got pregnant, I thought I was coming down with every single symptom I read about in my book. The worst was when I read about “excessive salivation.” It had not occurred to me that I was salivating excessively, but after I read that this was a common pregnancy symptom, I began focusing on my saliva. Concentrating on it, it did start to seem excessive. I started to focus on swallowing, and it seemed as though I was swallowing almost constantly. I began keeping a tissue box next to the couch so I could spit out some of the excess saliva instead of having to keep swallowing all the time. It seemed like I had to spit every three seconds. The thing is, I am not really sure I WAS salivating excessively, just becoming more conscious of my normal salivation.
When I first starting getting nausea from pregnancy, I was pretty sure it was a “mind over matter” situation. I was sure I only thought I was nauseated because I had read about it, just as the excessive salivation was probably a figment of my imagination. I castigated myself for being so weak as to think I was nauseated. I was sure I was going to be one of those transcendent women who never feel sick during pregnancy. But then the barfing convinced me that something physical was truly happening that could not be overcome simply by the powers of my mind. So did the fainting. The jury is still out on excessive salivation and stretch marks (I think those may just be marks from the lining of my underwear).
I am sick
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Wildside pics
(Ooh, Mark posted another good pic on his blog: http://mundanemark.blogspot.com/)
Monday, March 27, 2006
Destroyer pics...
Mark as Ace (he looks so blase for a rock star!)
The guitar is smokin'
More Mark/Ace
The glory of Destroyer
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Some updates
Linda introduced me to Alexander Calder, an artist who was part of the surrealism movement of the 20s and 30s. She suggested a visit to SFMOMA, where we saw the most captivating exhibit of his art, including a good selection of his mobiles, which I feel I would flail about and not do justice to in attempting to describe—-I guess you could loosely describe them as abstract, imaginative, sometimes somewhat whimsical kinetic sculptures--but they are beautiful and creepy sometimes and amusing all at once, as were some of his made-up “beasts” (with names like Devil Fish, Apple Monster, and Parasite). Folks who live around here, I hope you will get the chance to go see the exhibit. It’s there till May 21. The posters for it around town, at least the ones I’ve seen, are featuring a funny, odd piece of found-object art (I think) called “Wooden Bottle with Hairs,” but you also need to see the strange dangly mobiles and “stabiles” (some of which have parts that move, too, but which stand on the floor as opposed to hanging from wire). Trust me, you will want to steal one. I also really liked his wire sculptures “Acrobat,” “Fishbowl,” and “Hercules and the Lion.” I like it when art makes me stare and giggle.
We got reprimanded by a museum guard for trying to take a little shot on a cell phone, surreptitiously. Add one to my collection of museum guard reprimand anecdotes!
We also briefly perused the surrealist photography exhibit and saw some very cool pieces but were running out of energy at that point and so I feel I’d need to go back and see it again to do justice. And we went to the exhibit of photography from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, there till May 30, which Mark and I had been wanting to see for awhile. All in all, I will not pontificate but just say there are some exhibits well worth seeing at MOMA right now.
It was fun having Linda in town and introducing her to some of my good friends here; I will miss her! Excitingly, though, Amy and David and their daughter Adele are arriving today and I hope to see as much of them this week as possible.
2) Last night we went to an engagement party in Berkeley for Mark’s cousin Anna and her fiancé Ron-—very lovely, though we couldn’t stay as long as we wanted to, because we were headed right on to a show at the Time Out in Concord, where Mark played in two bands: first Destroyer, a KISS tribute band in which he is the guitarist Ace Frehley (I refuse to spell it as they do, "Desstroyer"--it's not right), then Wildside, a Motley Crue tribute band in which he is Vince Neil. I have a ton of pictures from the show and will probably display some of them shortly in another post. There was an enthusiastic crowd, which made me happy, and our friends John and Rachel and Tom and Rachelle were there. Yay for me! (Didn't have to lurk in the club alone.) Mark was a little disappointed in himself because as Ace, he tripped and fell backward onstage after getting tangled in some of the equipment cords. It didn’t help that he was wearing huge platform shoes. It in no way damaged the evening, however, in my opinion, and he was able to rebound beautifully in Wildside, all resplendent in a brand new pair of fake leather pants.
Because I’ve been so paranoid about exposing the baby to a lot of loud noise, and also because I don't drink anymore (obviously) and have a more limited ability to appreciate the joy of bars, my original plan was to hang out in a Starbucks around the corner and read my book, then go over to the show later and just see part of it. However, I was driven out of the Starbucks almost immediately by the presence of two insane and possibly tweaking men. They were busy harassing two unfortunate fifteen-year-old girls, who luckily had each other and cell phones and so were able (I think) to call their parents to come rescue them (the management of teenaged boys did nothing to help). Both of the tweaking men sat staring steadily at the two girls, sometimes silently (which was in itself very creepy), while at other times the more gregarious of the two chorused streams of bizarre and disturbing nonsense in their direction. The more normal of the two had approached them and learned that they were sophomores in high school, a theme that the crazier one took up, then began repeating, “They’re soft s’mores! They’re soft s’mores! They’re soft s’mores!” over and over and over again, punctuated by bursts of loud, hyena-like laughter. I thought about waiting till the girls’ parents showed up, but I decided to leave, because I was sure that when the two girls left, I would be their next target, as the only other woman (or person) in the creepy Starbucks. I would have nobody to call to rescue me and would have to walk alone in the dark from the Starbucks to the Time Out, very possibly pursued by these two men. I thought it was sad that my plan to read my book was derailed and that I had to flee the Starbucks to enjoy the comparatively much less creepy crowd at the BAR. It just isn’t right.
3) I am tired because I think I got two hours of sleep last night, at most. I know I have more to say but I am going to have to trail off for now.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Preggo Pig
Finally I had to take the candy jar away from myself and place it in the other consultant's office. See? I *am* my own parent.
Untitled
*************
I am (foolishly) watching "A Baby Story" on TLC and this insane woman they are featuring did not scream ONCE during her delivery. She did not make a PEEP. Man, how I resent her.
PS
Okay, now I really hate her. She just said, "Pregnancy is easy. Giving birth is easy. It's raising kids that's hard." Why can't THREE things be hard?
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
I am my own child
Monday, March 20, 2006
I am a spam robot
This irks me. (Though I want to clarify that I am not irked with anyone for *having* a spam robot challenge; I just feel that the blog gods and goddesses should make it easier to read. That way, I would have my status as a human effortlessly confirmed and not have to endure all the terrible existential pain of being told I am a Spam Robot. Sniffle. Would a Spam Robot shed real, salty tears?)
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Friday, March 17, 2006
The Real "Limelight" Lyrics
Must put aside their educations
Get on with the alienation
Communication: the underlying creed."
--As remembered by Mita Mahato and Sarah Goss, thank you.
They're so much more meaningful this way, really.
Mita's visit!
Mita had to leave to return to her life in Seattle (wahhh), but I loved seeing her and wish she lived here so we could see each other all the time...we have fun together no matter what we are doing (even if it's just sitting in the apartment making up silly quizzes). Thank you so much for coming and making me giggle so much, Mita (I have learned that I have a very obnoxious-sounding laugh).
Well, Mita is gone, but I am Pure Nerd enough to still be greatly amused by the 18th-century Novel Name Game and have just now penned the opening line of Act I, Scene I of my faux-Restoration drama:
Curtain rises. Enter Lady Manley Ballsworthy and Lord Potsie Campervan, clearly tense with one another.
[Please note that no one who reads this blog is Lady Manley or Lord Potsie. But if you would like me to think of an 18th-century novel or Restoration drama name for you, you may apply and I will take your request into consideration. Thank you-- Lady Constance Farting.]
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Baby's First Rush Concert
I saw a man in a T-shirt that read, "Tell your boobs to stop staring at my eyes" and took notes on him on my secret pad for a future short story in which I need obvious signs that someone is a big ass.
Paranoid?
I often think strangers are giving me dirty looks, looks that suggest that they feel a certain way about me. Part of the time I might be right, of course. But sometimes, something happens that conclusively informs me I’ve been wrong. For example, the other day at the YMCA I was on one of my favorite machines, and immediately after I got on it I began to feel a man was giving me a dirty, impatient look, implying I should get off and let him have it, even though I had only just gotten on. I endured the discomfort for a few minutes, then got off and left in a huff, yielding to him and his dirty looks. But then, I peered back through the window into the exercise room and saw that the man had not gotten ON the vacated machine; in fact, he had gotten on some other machine. So now I think he was never giving me a dirty look in the first place.
Perhaps people are not giving me as many dirty looks as I think they are. I don’t know which is worse: the world being full of hostile people, or having to face that my judgment and intuition are not as good as I think they are.
I hope the baby takes after her father.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
The sky is bitching violently
Another List
b) I took two gender prediction quizzes online and they both said I'd be having a girl. One was the Chinese Gender Chart, which simply declared "Girl," and the other was a series of questions based on different gender prediction myths. It had questions like, "Do you crave oranges? Are you having headaches? Do you pick up a mug by the handle or by its body? Do you refuse to eat the heel of a bread or prefer it?" (I could go on--the questions were really insane). Anyway, this utterly bizarre test gave me 83% odds I was having a girl. Why am I taking gender prediction test when I already know it's a girl? I do not know.
c) Das Unheimliche: This is a marzipan baby!! It totally blows my mind. I wonder if anyone actually eats him, on a cake or something... I do not think I could. He is a baby; yet he is almond paste. Try to understand.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
All right, what is going on here?
You're a Scorpion!
You really enjoy weapons and like keeping as many of them at hand
as possible, just in case. Most of these weapons are sharp, and you have a small
collection of armor as well. You just can't be too careful these days. Maybe it's
that you've always been small and feel threatened and this has prompted your
elaborate collection to bloom. It's not too surprising that you've become a bit of
a loner, even a hermit, with those tendencies. Or that your favorite actor is The
Rock.
Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
I couldn't bear it, so I took the quiz again and answered one question differently that I wasn't sure about, anyway, and I was THIS:
You're a Boa Constrictor!
You're that person who is always offering massages to people and you
spend a lot of time training yourself to get better at giving them. Sometimes,
however, you make people just a little nervous with how close you're getting to
their neck. But you can usually knead them right back into a false sense of
security, er, I mean into feeling comfortable. Your mouth seems to be capable of
opening wider than anyone else's. You've sometimes wondered what it would be like
to be made out of feathers.
Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
I don't mean to be mean to any animals but these animal identities are just not okay with me. And my favorite actor is NOT "the Rock." Sheesh.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
De-Pantsed
He mercifully called me back about fifteen minutes later and agreed to come to the library with my pants. I instructed him on how to find a pair that fits me, not an easy matter these days since most of my pants are either too small or too big. He brought them to me within the hour. That is a kind husband for you-- he saves you when you are unexpectedly de-pantsed in a university library.
38% Evil, Lawful Good Elf Fighter
http://www.blogthings.com/howevilareyouquiz/
***You Are 38% Evil***A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well.In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.
________________________________________________
I am a Lawful Good Elf Fighter:
What D&D Character Are You?: http://fantasyherald.com/quiz/dand/index.php
Lawful Good Elf Fighter:
Alignment:Lawful Good characters are the epitome of all that is just and good. They believe in order and governments that work for the benefit of all, and generally do not mind doing direct work to further their beliefs.
Race:Elves are the eldest of all races, although they are generally a bit smaller than humans. They are generally well-cultured, artistic, easy-going, and because of their long lives, unconcerned with day-to-day activities that other races frequently concern themselves with. Elves are, effectively, immortal, although they can be killed. After a thousand years or so, they simply pass on to the next plane of existance.
Primary Class:Fighters are the warriors. They use weapons to accomplish their goals. This isn't to say that they aren't intelligent, but that they do, in fact, believe that violence is frequently the answer.
I have no idea why I am a Fighter, since I checked "Flight" over "Fight" and said my weapon of choice was "running away."
I am a dangerously, insidiously evil, lawful good, pacifist fighter Elf.