Monthly Archives: February 2006

Do … Re …

ME! As in, it’s all about. Seems like this Johari Window dealio is the cool thing to do, and who am I to buck a trend? Go check mine out, and tell me which words *you* think apply to me the most; then you can see how your choices match everyone else’s. Or, if you’re feeling more snarky than squabby, you can do the Nohari window and let the negativity flow.

This is a great Valentine’s Day story.

How to Charm Me

Surprise me with a bouquet of roses, a DVD for me (Wallace and Gromit!), and a cute little baby hat for Hoss (with ears!) for Valentine’s day.

Thank god I’d gotten you a box of chocolates, or I’d have totally lost face.

Packing is teh suck

OK, I don’t know what asshole thought this was an accurate representation of anyone packing to move – I mean, seriously, do you know ANYONE who thinks this is fun? I took today “off” to get some packing done, since we’re moving on the 24th and we’ve done, you know, ZERO packing. So I slept in a little, watched some HGTV, had some lunch and I think next I’ll maybe put in a load of laundry. BECAUSE I HATE PACKING. Unpacking? Fine. I like arranging stuff in a new space, setting up rooms, etc. But there is nothing to like about packing. Feh.

Baby Connoisseurs

Reading about Christopher’s daughter’s obsession with Munch, and Matt’s idea about a Hello Kitty poster reminded me that my parent’s choice of nursery decoration was Hieronymous Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights (click the image for a larger version). Whenever I relate this fact (it’s a great tidbit for cocktail parties!) the reaction is usually along the lines of “Seriously?!? They put that over your crib?!” But that’s not the part that’s funny to me. What’s funny to me is that I had absolutely no memory of this painting being a part of my childhood room … but I did have strange attraction to the painting as I got older. It wasn’t until I was in Jr. High, musing about how I’d always liked the painting and wasn’t that kind of a weird thing to have always liked, that my dad piped up with, “well, you know that was hanging over your crib when you were little.”

So, yeah. My parents were kind of hippies. But what I wanna know is: what’s the weirdest thing you liked as a kid? Or, alternatively, what’s the weirdest thing your parents exposed you to when you were a kid? Anybody got anything to top Bosch?

I got tagged!

Ali made me do it!

Four jobs I’ve had:
1. Waitress at the local greasy spoon cafe. Average tip: $0.50.
2. Housekeeper for the Super 8 Motel. You don’t even want to KNOW what gets left in those rooms. Naaaaaasty.
3. Telemarketer – raising money for the DNC. I used to up my bonuses by putting on the local accent of whatever region of the country I was calling. People will give you more money if you sound like them!
4. Professor at a small liberal arts college. Which I sure hope I can do again, someday soon …

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Sixteen Candles
2. Caddyshack
3. Bowfinger
4. Raising Arizona

Four places I’ve lived:
1. Athens, GA
2. Salzburg, Austria
3. London, UK
4. Santa Barbara, CA

Four TV shows I love:
1. Grey’s Anatomy
2. Lost
3. Arrested Development (sigh)
4. The Office (both versions)

Four places I’ve vacationed:
1. Bellagio, Italy
2. Inverness, Scotland
3. Long Beach, Ontario
4. Prague, Czech Republic

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Chocolate malts
2. Mr. Squab’s grilled cheese sandwiches
3. Palak Paneer
4. Fried catfish and cheese grits. Mmmmmm …

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Bitch, PhD
2. DaddyTypes
3. Dooce
4. Bookslut

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Bellagio, Italy
2. Accepting the check from my winning Powerball ticket
3. At home, packing and getting ready to move
4. On a cruise ship sailing the Medditerranean

Four bloggers I am tagging:
1. Activist Monkey
2. St. Pauly Girl
3. Gomer
4. Christopher or Matt

Having one of those weeks.

And yes, I know it’s only Tuesday. I think I caught what Brazen Hussy has.

Posting will remain light.

And the secret word of the day is …

Suckimodiddley. As in, “God DAMN, Mondays are suckimodiddley.”

Please use in at least one sentence today. That is all.

Tales of an insomniac

I’ve always been a light sleeper, a state which I ascribe to having shared a room with my little sister for a dozen years growing up. My sister had tonsil problems all through her childhood, and that or maybe undiagnosed allergies or something made her a pretty loud sleeper. She snored, talked in her sleep, and worst of all, would stop breathing sometimes – not for long, just long enough that it was painful to listen to her irregular breath patterns. So I got used to being awoken in the middle of the night by a particularly loud snort or something, and stage-whispering “Turn. OVER!” until it filtered into sistersquab’s sleep-addled brain and she’d roll over and temporarily breath easy once more.

This state of affairs never particularly bothered me, and since I also developed the ability to go back to sleep pretty much at will, I never felt like I was missing out on too much sleep or anything. In fact, it can come in handy: I rarely need an alarm clock – I just set my “inner alarm” and I can make myself get up whenever I have to. And I’m excellent at catnapping: I’ve been known to sleep through take off and landing of a 747, to take a little snooze in the student union with people milling all around, to fall asleep on any car ride that lasts longer than 20 minutes … I’m a sleeper. I like sleeping, and I do it well.

Unless. There’s a vicious strain of insomnia in my family, particularly on my Dad’s side. He regularly suffers bouts of unsleepitude, as does my paternal grandmother. And while my early years were untainted by this horrid tendency, I find that the older I get, the easier it is for my sleep to be disrupted for the night. Sometimes I do it to myself, drinking too much coffee late in the day, or electing to read a particularly thrilling novel right before I go to bed. I don’t worry too much about that, since I know how to fix it. But other times, and particularly recently, I just get kind of wired for no reason, and can’t go to sleep. It isn’t necessarily stress (though that doesn’t help) – I just can’t always wind down. I’ll lie in bed, eyes wide open, trying to relax, let my mind wander … and then eventually I just get too pissy and get up, close the door so I don’t bother Mr. Squab, and watch crappy late-night television or read until I can’t keep my eyes open any more, usually in the wee hours of the morning.

Pregnancy, of course, just makes any sleeping issues you already have a lot worse. I haven’t had what I’d consider a comfortable night’s sleep in months, and as Hoss gets bigger, the discomfort does, too. Most nights I just readjust my position and go back to sleep, but there are SOME nights where the fates, mother nature, and various deities are clearly out to get you. I had one of those nights last night. We went to bed at our regular time, around 11:30 pm. I was feeling tired, like I’d be able to go to sleep pretty easily. The only irritation was that our upstairs neighbors had some loudish music on (a lot of bass and drums), so I brought my iPod to bed to shut out that noise with some soothing tuneage of my own.

Only it didn’t shut it out. I could hear the thumpa thumpa of the drums even through my patented “sleepy mix.” And then Mr. Squab, who was particularly tired after a long day and a taxing volleyball game, started snoring. Usually I can use the same technique on him that I perfected on my sister (“Turn. OVER.”) but last night that was just not cutting it. No matter how he was positioned, the snores rang out loud and clear. After turning up my iPod loud enough to give me a headache (hello, hearing loss!), I said a mental “Fuck it” and got up, took my pillows, and hied me to the living room sofa to sleep there.

This, of course, made me a prime target for the cats (who are shut out of the bedroom at night). Boy, were they ever excited to have me out there! At night! With no lights on! Wheeeee! Oscar settled down pretty quickly in the nook of my legs and went to sleep, but Max, our problem-child kitty, drove me insane. The wandering, and the meowing, and the licking and nuzzling and GOOD GOD, CAT, JUST SHUT UP AND SETTLE DOWN!!! Jesus. I think we were all finally sleeping, kind of, by about 2:00 am. And Max didn’t start whining for his breakfast until 5:30 or so, so it could have been worse. And while the couch is kind of uncomfortable and made me sleep all funny so my back and neck have been hurting all day, it was better than a hide-a-bed or something. And heck, this is all grist for the mill once the baby comes, right? I mean, I’m supposed to get used to sleep deprivation, aren’t I?

BUT STILL. I was in a pretty goddamn pissy mood this morning when I got up. And if those cats do ONE thing to bug me tonight … well, let’s just say there will be spray bottles involved, and my aim only gets more accurate with rage.

Heh heh.

A Mother’s Plea. (via Mamazine)