Aspirin and Boku-maru

40 weeks +3

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 20:55:00 +0000

It actually never occurred to me that I'd go past my due date with this baby. Call it naive, call it short-sighted, either way it's the truth. So three days past the due date with no signs of any change on the horizon, I am a bit flummoxed. I have tried every "home remedy" under the sun, with the exception of chugging castor oil - that just sounds gross. I've been working from home for a couple of weeks - the commute was wiping me out, and my colleagues all feared my water could break at any moment - so I'm actually a little lonely. On the flip side, none of my clothes fit these days so at least I'm not flashing the world my unsightly business. My Mom came out at the end of last week under the assumption that we'd be looking at a due date-ish baby. And she returned to Colorado today with plans to return when I go into labor, or get scheduled for an induction, or it's Thanksgiving - whichever happens first. So Gentle Reader, stay tuned. No news is... well, no news is simply the lack of news. Keep your fingers crossed something happens soon!

Halloween wrap

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:16:00 +0000

So it's November now, and still nothing to report in the baby news department. I can tell you I am not a fan of pointless contractions that apparently accomplish nothing, but that's about all I've got.

On the plus side, though, we did get to take the Bug trick-or-treating this year - something I was super pleased not to miss! She was a very magical unicorn, though we were not able to convince her to wear her hood with its extra-magic horn... Still, it was pink and fuzzy and adorable. She didn't *actually* say "Trick or Treat" at any of the houses, preferring to cling to Joker and stick out her pumpkin bucket. But she scored a plenty fine haul for her non-sweets-eating self (and her Reese's Peanut Butter Cup-loving Mommy), and she has learned she likes chocolate, though she soundly rejects everything else (even M&Ms!).

War and Peace

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 02:14:00 +0000

Even more intimidating than picking up Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace is attempting, as an amateur blogger, to review it. This is an amazing book, difficult to put down and enjoyable from start to finish. I chose the 2007 translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, a husband and wife team who has done a phenomenal job of translating a number of Russian classics. I don't anticipate ever reading another translator's edition of any Russian novel - they breathe new life into these wonderful books.

At nearly 1300 pages, War and Peace truly defines the epic genre. It is set primarily among Moscow and Petersburg nobility during the period of the Napoleonic wars (1805-1812), and it tells the story of two very different families and one unique man, interwoven with the politics and strategy of the wars themselves. Severe old Prince Bolkonsky has two children, the intelligent and thoughtful Andrei and the religious Marya. The laid back Count Ilya Rostov and his loving wife have four children, Vera, Nikolai, Natasha and Petya, and an orphaned niece Sonya. Count Pierre Bezukhov is the favorite illegitimate son of one of Moscow's richest men, and his inherited fortune throws him into society life for which he is ill prepared.

The beautiful Natasha Rostov is introduced as a 13-year-old girl, the favorite child of both her parents. She is impetuous and charming, and everyone she meets becomes captivated. This only increases as she makes her own debut into society. She has become friendly with Pierre Bezukhov, a frequent visitor to the Rostov household, who introduces her to the handsome soldier Prince Andrei Bolkonsky at her first ball. The evolution of the relationships between Natasha, Pierre and Andrei provide much of the background for the social stories throughout the book. Their families and friends - and members of greater Moscow and Petersburg society - provide a robust cast of characters so well developed and compelling you'll miss them when you finish the book.

Beyond his complex storytelling, Tolstoy uses the book to promote his thoughts on the origins of war, the roles of leaders, the true source of happiness, and other intricate philosophies. He also makes it very clear which generals he felt should be credited with Russian victory, and where the blame should lie when the opposite was true. By using real wars and battles as the backdrop for human dramas, he provides great insight into how the characters lives are shaped, and what drives them to make the decisions they do. This is true not only for the fictional characters he has created, but also for the generals and other historical figures that feature prominently.

I could not have been more thrilled with the experience of reading War and Peace. It is a interesting and exciting and meticulously crafted... I only want to re-read my other favorite Russian novels to fairly assess whether it is the best book I have ever read, or merely one of the best. It is admittedly a massive undertaking, but one that will be well worth it when you have the time to invest.

Up next: Elaine Dundy's The Dud Avocado, the story of a 21-year-old American woman dropped into 1950s Paris for sexy and boozy adventures. Supposed to be really funny, plus it's got a cool title.

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 16:01:00 +0000

After my tepid review of Watchmen, Joker suggested that I try Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, as another well-known, groundbreaking graphic novel, and one that he particularly likes. I definitely preferred it to Watchmen, and while I would absolutely recommend it for the medium, I wouldn't list it among the greatest reads of all time.

Dark Knight Returns was my first Batman comic, though I have seen the movies. For the most part I had enough context to understand what was going on: I knew Harvey Dent was Two-Face, I knew who the Joker was, and though I didn't know they were both there, I was aware of Arkham Asylum. The key thing missing for the uninitiated is that Superman and Batman have a long-standing relationship. For the most part they are allies, but they come from such different places their methods are often at odds. Superman is an idealist, the consummate good guy, man of steel, et cetera. Batman is a realist, driven by revenge, and sometimes forced to blur the line between right and wrong. I had no idea that Superman and Batman ever crossed paths, so I found that storyline to be a bit confusing. Oh and the old dude Oliver near the end? He's also a superhero, known as Green Arrow.

The book is a collection of four individual comics under one main arch. Batman has been retired for ten years, following the Joker's (for clarification, not MY Joker) murder of his sidekick Robin. Bruce Wayne and Commissioner Gordon, both now in their 70s, have maintained their friendship as Gotham has become increasingly overrun with criminals. With Gordon finally about to retire, Batman feels he has no choice but to put the bat-suit back on.

But times have changed. The media, the government and the general public don't necessarily embrace Batman's vigilante ways. The case is even made that Batman is the criminal, and that Two-Face and the Joker, who have been locked up in Arkham Asylum, are repentant and ready to be released. While the Batman deals with the fallout of these two being back on the outside, we continue to understand what is driving him and his return to crime-fighting.

The second two books change gears somewhat, with Batman and Superman involved in the US vs. USSR nuclear arms race. Superman saves the earth, but an unfortunate side-effect is that Gotham descends into chaos. When Batman rights the city, it's an embarrassment to the government, which forces a Superman/Batman showdown.

The artwork is very appealing, and I understand how Frank Miller has become such a brand name. The dialogue and inner monologues - especially Batman's and Superman's - provide a depth of character development I wouldn't have suspected possible in a comic book. All in all, it's a very enjoyable read, well worth the short time it takes.

Next up: I've only got 100-150 pages left in War and Peace, so I'm a one-book woman until it's done.

Bug: L'artiste

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 01:25:00 +0000

The weather this weekend was pretty crappy, lessened only because it was expected to be worse. Combined with the fact that I'm uncomfortable, achy, and contracting, we were pretty cooped up. Though I desperately needed the time to sort through boxes of baby stuff - and to do endless loads of laundry before sorting the clothes, blankets, bibs, etc. into piles by size (and girl vs. gender-neutral) - the highlight was helping the Bug with her artwork.

She absolutely loves to color and to "do stickers", but the real fun begins when we break out the paints or the markers. I love watching her work - she picks out a color, concentrates very hard on whatever it is she's doing at the moment, and is on to the next color in a matter of seconds. She is very proud of her work, and not afraid to criticize mine when, for example, my flower doesn't look very happy. (For the record, I have no idea what she was talking about - it didn't even have a face. But the Bug seemed satisfied after she added some pink, so there must have been an issue.)

I am most amazed, though, when we talk about it later. I always ask her to tell me about whatever she makes. The narrative currently consists of "this is yellow; this is pink," but I don't think we're far from involved explanations of every detail. And in the evening when we're talking about the day, she will remember not only that we colored together, but that I made a pink cat and then a green one, and that she drew the bodies and added stickers.

Pumpkin painting

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 16:38:00 +0000

Even though our neighbors have promised to set up a special night of trick-or-treating for the Bug should the moppet decide to show on Halloween, it'd be a bummer to miss the Bug's first "real" Halloween. Technically, it's her third, but this is the first time she could tell me what she wanted to be (a unicorn, which is harder to find than you'd expect). And she was super excited for our visit to the pumpkin patch (where she was going to find a Bug-sized pumpkin, and I would get a Mommy-sized pumpkin, and Daddy would get a Daddy-sized pumpkin). We even upped the fun quotient by inviting the cousins (and Aunt Katy and Uncle Dave) to join us.

We went to Eden Farms in Stamford - very close to our house, and they put on a good show for the little ones. After two or three trips through the hay bale maze - which the Bug and cousin Chris-Chris absolutely LOVED - we took a hay ride down to the pumpkin patch. Sure enough, the Bug found the tiniest, most perfectly pumpkin-shaped pumpkin I have ever seen. And believe it or not, it we had to defend it at least half a dozen times. After we all found our perfect pumpkins, and cousin Lily went for a pony ride, we went to the cousins' house for the carving.

The carving didn't really materialize - or more precisely, none of the kids paid any attention. But what did materialize was a karaoke machine. So the kids took turns serenading us. They each held the microphone, articulated the lyrics clearly, and it was probably the first time I've really wished we'd had our video camera.

When we got home, the Bug knew exactly what she wanted to do with her pumpkin. So, per her instruction, we got out the paints and she created a beautiful masterpiece:

No idea where she got the idea of pumpkin painting, but this will be our centerpiece until in rots from the inside out.

Arches and Canyonlands

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 13:55:00 +0000

After the incredible success of our Acadia trip, Joker and I have been talking a lot about the National Parks being good destinations for us in the coming years. They're beautiful, there's a lot to do for both kids and adults to enjoy, and we're really not the annual-trek-to-Disneyland kind of people.

Utah has been one place we've talked about: it boasts several stunning parks, and it's relatively close to my parents so we could probably meet there and enjoy a vacation together. It just so happens that Mima and Boppie scoped out the place last weekend!

In one postcard they say that both the Canyonlands and Arches overload the senses. In the other, they mention that lots of kids were having fun climbing on the rock formations. Perhaps next year we will be counted among their number... it certainly sounds like we'd all enjoy it!

Miscellany

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 13:54:00 +0000

While I haven't been doing much blogging the last couple of weeks, I have been learning (and re-learning) some very important things. So now I'll save you the trouble of having to figure these things out for yourself, and share them with you:

Leading the category of re-learning is Fact #1. The last month of pregnancy sucks. I'm big. I'm uncomfortable. And my temperature is running at about +20 degrees or so compared to normal. I'm tired, but unable to sleep for more than two hours at a stretch. I'm hungry, but so full of baby there is no room for my dinner. Baby's head-down, which means its bony butt is constantly prodding my innards. On the plus side, though, the Bug gives the baby lots of kisses, which is both cute and sweet.

Fact #2. Ice cream is good. I mean, really REALLY good. I have been a sorbet/popsicle girl all my life, but last week dipped into a pint of Cherry Garcia. Holy crap! That stuff is awesome!! What the hell was I thinking?? So what if it's got like a thousand calories and god knows how many grams of fat - it tastes GOOD.

Fact #3. Health insurance sucks. At least, mine does. When I started going to my various pre-natal appointments, Cigna rejected every single claim because they said I had other primary insurance. Which I did not. When I called to speak with someone, they said it's standard procedure. What a totally bullshit standard procedure! And last week I learned that the anesthesia department at Greenwich Hospital doesn't accept Cigna. Anesthesia is important. They don't remove wisdom teeth without anesthesia, and last time I checked a baby is WAY bigger. Needless to say, I was concerned about this one! I reached out to the hospital, which has been incredibly responsive and helpful, and learned that they are in negotiations with Cigna so the anesthesia will be treated pari passu with other out-of-network coverage. Basically, that means Cigna will do little to nothing. Boo, hiss.

Fact #4. The Bug is really excited to be a big sister. However, she has made it known that she really wants a sister. She informed Joker and me the other day that if the baby is a girl, she will take care of her, but if it's a boy, I can take care of him. (In case you are curious, apparently Joker can take care of himself.) The Bug has also told us that she sleeps in her big girl bed, and the baby can sleep in her crib. And I already mentioned that she loves to kiss (and tickle) the baby. I'm still not sure this translates directly to understanding that a real, live baby who lives outside of Mommy's tummy will be joining the family, but it seems to be a very good start!

Still running jogging

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 19:30:00 +0000

Next to what she consumes, nothing attracts unsolicited comments like the sight of a pregnant woman running. I've been fortunate that said comments are generally positive ("Right on!") or encouraging ("Keep it up!"), though I've heard tell of the annoyingly negative ("Should you really be doing that?").

When I was pregnant with the Bug, my last so-called run (trust me, it gets really slow near the end) was a couple of days before I went to the hospital to deliver. I'm hoping for the same sort of luck this time around, and all indicators are still positive. I chuckle a little when people ask me about it, because the #1 question is about my heart rate. Of which I have no clue. I don't track my heart rate when I'm not pregnant, nor do I track it when I am pregnant. It's actually a lot easier than that. You just want to keep your exertion to a moderate level, and it's easy not to overdo it because between increased blood volume and decreased lung capacity, there is simply no way to push it too hard. I still record my run times, but only because I find it interesting to track. The other guideline is total exercise time. I've heard that it's good to keep yourself around 30 minutes or less by the time you hit the third trimester. Frankly, I could not do much more - when you're pregnant, you really go to the bathroom frequently. I simply can't hold it longer than this!

As far as workout gear, I have heard about giant belly bands that are supposed to keep you from bouncing. The concept freaks me out, and my tummy is totally bounceless anyway. I wear my normal shorts, low below my tummy, and either a maternity running shirt or a big old t-shirt. The former is far more comfortable, but I've got more of the latter and they suffice.

I think the reason I do it is to maintain a level of normalcy even while pregnant. Like a glass of wine with dinner, it makes me feel a bit more human. Plus, exercise during pregnancy is supposed to help with post-baby weight loss. I'm hoping to keep running 'til the end again.

Newport, RI

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 19:59:00 +0000

Sent to the Bug last weekend from her Mommy and Daddy. While the Bug and Mima were making major strides in child development, Joker and I visited Newport, RI. It's a very pretty town, if a bit on the touristy side. We ate good food, had a fabulous time on the coastal Cliff Walk, toured The Breakers, and got to sleep in. This postcard is from the downtown harbor.

Breaking Dawn

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 16:10:00 +0000

The best thing I can say about Breaking Dawn, the fourth and final book in the Twilight series, is that at least now I am done with it.

First of all, Stephenie Meyer is a poor writer. This book starts out narrated by our good buddy Bella, switches to first-person narrative by Jacob the werewolf (or more precisely, the shape shifter), and switches back to first-person now-vampire Bella. Good writing in the first person is rare, and this writing is far from good. Plus, Meyer splits infinitives. She suffers terribly from overuse of the adjective. She really could have used an editor. And she's got a crazy agenda.

You see, I thought all the PG-rated kissing and eye-gazing and cheesy crap was to maximize parentally-sponsored book sales for pre-teen girls. In reality, Meyer is an anti-choice Mormon who doesn't believe in premarital sex. Not even for hot teenage vampire dudes like Edward. In fact, before his and Bella's wedding night, dear sweet Edward talked to his father and brothers about the birds and the bees, since in his hundred years of "life" the issue had never, um, arisen. Then, when Bella gets pregnant with a freaky demon monster who beats the hell out of her from the inside, her blinding love for Edward means an abortion is completely out of the question. Feminist lit this is not.

So Bella has the baby, Edward pseudo-saves her life by transforming her into a vampire, she's able to resist the urge for human blood from the get-go, the pack of werewolves seems to be cool to co-exist with the veggie-vamps... but look out! Here come the old-ass Volturi from the second book, on their way to stamp out the Cullen menace for once and for all. Tension builds, conflict seems imminent... and then it's averted because of Bella's super-power. She, Edward and the half-breed live happily ever, since apparently all our 18-year-old leading lady ever wanted was to be Edward's immortal bride and the mother of his child. How progressive.

Up next: I'm about two-thirds of the way through War and Peace, which is incredible. I'm going to try to focus on finishing that one, rather than having two books going at once.

Mima mojo

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 19:38:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, I thought we were nearing the milestone most longed for by parents the world over: potty training. The Bug was into it, she dug on her new panties, and we spent about a day and a half with grand toilet success. But she lost interest, got distracted, or otherwise decided that the diaper was still OK for now. I was a bit disappointed, but figured I have neither the know-how nor the patience to really force the issue. Plus, she's still young, so we could come back to it later.

Well, apparently all it took was about 12 hours with my mother, who worked some sort of uber-magic with astounding success. Joker and I left for a little weekend get-away on Friday morning, and by dinner-time we needed a scoreboard to track the break-throughs. The Bug had used the potty at home, the potty at the children's museum, and she'd made her first Number Two on the potty. By Sunday, she was wearing panties in the car (even when she dozed off) and had used the potty at the zoo, and this morning the first thing she asked for (well, second, after her Mima) was the potty. Another Number Two, another accident-free car ride to the babysitters... By Jove, I think she's got it!

How rude!

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 14:09:00 +0000

I don't really ask a lot of the general public. I am happy to pay for my own drinks, open my own doors, give up a seat for the elderly, and respect "no cellphone" policies wherever I find them.

But I am also seven months pregnant. I enjoy my 20-minute walks (more or less... used to be less, but now they're closer to 23 minutes) to and from Grand Central, but sometimes I just don't quite have enough time to make my train in the evening. Which forces me underground. Where all the otherwise chivalrous people who open doors and try not to knock over the pregnant lady turn into a mass of boorish pigs.

When I get on the subway and there are no seats, I actually catch the eyes of people (mostly men) who are rushing to appear as if they don't see me. They fumble with newspapers, they get out their blackberries, their eyes glaze over as they intently read the subway ads. Sometimes an older woman or a really, really old man will ask if I'd like a seat. Less frequently, a younger woman will offer hers up. And very occasionally, a black or latino man will stand in my stead. But virtually never will a white man between the ages of 20 and 50 give up his seat for a pregnant woman.

This phenomenon puzzles me. It happened last time I was pregnant, and I have observed it many times between pregnancies, when I find myself to be the only person on a crowded subway car to offer my seat to a pregnant woman. From time to time, I get elbowed out of the way on the Metro-North platform as it's time to board a train, but only on the subway is this behavior the rule rather than the exception. Why is that? An odd form of tunnel blindness? Is the subway lighting so very slimming that I look completely un-pregnant? Seriously, people, what gives?

New snoozing ground

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 13:36:00 +0000

We set up the Bug's big girl bed over the weekend, and she's been super excited about it. She plays on it, we read books on it, she jumps on it. But we had to ease on into the sleeping on it thing. For two nights, after books and lights-out, she asked me to lie with her for a while. When it was time for me to leave, she asked to be put into her crib. Night #3, she started in her crib and asked for the big girl bed around 5:00am, where she finished the night. And last night, we had success! We tucked her in, turned out the light, and in the big beddie she stayed! Now if we can just get her to use the potty...

Eclipse

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 17:45:00 +0000

Eclipse, the third book in Stephenie Meyer's teen-vampire-romance Twilight series, delivers more of the same, albeit in slightly better packaging than its immediate predecessor. You've got your vampire-werewolf-human love triangle, your threat of imminent danger and death, some good ole teenage angst, and the foggy fog of Forks, Washington.

In this installment, Bella and Edward are back to their lovey-dovey, PG-rated romance. They've come to the agreement that after she graduates from high school, he'll transform her into a vampire, too... provided she marries him first. This totally pisses off her good buddy, Jacob the werewolf, who stopped speaking to Bella at the end of the second book. Since Bella misses her friend so very much, even though Jacob also vies for her affection, Edward agrees she should do what she can to get back into his good graces. Which of course she does.

Enter the imminent danger, this time in the form of an army of new vampires. The Cullen family can't find any other vampires to help them eradicate this menace, so they are forced to team up with the local werewolf pack (Jacob et al). This unlikely alliance gives each side the opportunity to brag, show off, and talk trash. It also creates a bizarre scenario that allows Jacob and Edward to truly see how much the other loves Bella, and reveals to Bella that she actually loves them both. Barf.

Anyway, the vampire/werewolf team win the battle, and Bella sticks with Edward and their plan for eternal happiness. Jacob's devastated and hits the road, and wedding bells are in the air. I still can't believe that anyone buys Bella's lame character as the lynch pin of all of this, but that doesn't mean I won't read - er, skim - the last book.

Up next: I'm putting the nail in the Twilight coffin with the final book, Breaking Dawn.

Playmates

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 00:41:00 +0000

One of the unexpected pleasures of the summer has been to watch the Bug play with her cousins, 6-year-old Frankie and 4-year-old twins Lily and Christopher. We try to get together at least once a week because they have such a blast! The Bug is their biggest fan. When Frankie plays his guitar and sings for us, the Bug stands in the front row and dances, his first little groupie. She follows Lily around, emulating everything the "big" girl does. And she and Chris spent hours digging in the sand at the beach last weekend. I think the cousins enjoy having someone younger on whom to impart their years of accumulated wisdom, and it's been so good for the Bug to have built-in best buddies who are always watching out for her. Nightmarish cell phone bills may be just around the corner, but it'll be a small price to pay.

Big girl bed

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 19:40:00 +0000

According to the pediatrician, the Bug was ready for a big girl bed a couple of months ago, and she only fell out of one once while we were on vacation in Maine. We recently ordered her bed, and today I thought I'd take care of the bedding. Apparently I have not bought that stuff in a very long time... I could not BELIEVE the number of choices! Keep in mind here, she's just two years old.

It's not just a twin mattress - it's either firm or plush or cushion firm or extra plush. It's not just sheets, it's different types of cotton, different weaves, and thread counts ranging from 200-1000. It's not just pillows, it's down or synthetic or memory foam. Several hours - and quite a few payments - later, I believe I have everything we need.

My fritzing camera

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 15:06:00 +0000

Since I'm still mourning the loss of my beloved film camera, laid to rest when it became too much of a hassle to develop film, I'd been planning to buy a good digital SLR this year. Our digital camera takes fine pictures, but it is admittedly a bit old and bulky. It is also apparently imbued with a feisty spirit - one that impelled it to go on the fritz as my brother's wedding began. I deleted most of the ruined pictures, but check out what happened to the vast majority of my vacation documentation.

This is the old footbridge from the hundred-year-old town of Somesville, Maine:

And here's what my camera did to it:

Creepy, right? Or perhaps I've finally found a medium of art that I'm actually good at...

Either way, we now are in the market for a small, inexpensive digital camera, as well as a good SLR.

Acadia National Park

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 01:30:00 +0000

I'd never been to Maine before, and while I knew that Acadia was the first national park east of the Mississippi, I did not know that it is located on an island off the coast. It is home to stunning natural beauty, both of the ocean and the woods varieties. We drove through the park, hiked, visited a beach, explored the tide pools, picked wild blueberries... and every night ate some of the freshest and most delicious seafood I've had (lobsters, of course, and haddock, clams, mussels, crabs, shrimp and scallops... only oysters are conspicuously absent).

Here are some photos from our hike:

Acadia is a beautiful place, and its something-for-everyone-ness makes for a great family vacation. We will definitely be back!

Scoop

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 15:37:00 +0000

My latest foray into the satirical genius of Evelyn Waugh is Scoop, which is regarded by many to be one of his best. I didn't find it to be as hilarious as Black Mischief, but it is definitely an enjoyable read.

Based in part on Waugh's experiences covering Mussolini's invasion of Abyssinia, Scoop explores sensational journalism and foreign correspondence. The story begins with John Boot, a rather lazy novelist who pursues a high-paying, low-work job in a foreign country in order to escape from an amorous American girl. Through the good words of his connections (including Waugh's favorite society matron Lady Metroland), Boot lands a position with the aptly-named newspaper The Beast, which will send him to the fictional African nation of Ishmaelia to cover its brewing civil war. Through several miscommunications, bumpkin William Boot is hired in his place, and he instead is forced to leave the comfort of home (where he writes a biweekly nature column) to join the cadre of journalists newly stationed in Jacksonburg, the capital city of Ishmaelia.

In typical Waugh fashion, hilarity and misadventures ensue. The ultimate question is whether the journalists are covering the news, or if they're really creating it based on their collective need to report back to their media outlets, whether or not anything is actually happening. My favorite joke involves the journalists all trekking to the Ishmaelian outpost of Laku, but I won't ruin it for you here.

Suffice it to say, this is another Waugh triumph. If you've not yet tried his books, I highly recommend you get started!

Up next: Eclipse, the third book in the Twilight series. (Did I mention I'm also getting into the HBO series True Blood? I think I might have a vampire problem.)

Maine vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 10:59:00 +0000

We just got back from a week in the great state of Maine, where we had a fabulous family vacation! To clarify a couple of things, by "great state" I mean "state in which every conceivable business uses its name as part of a pun": Chow Maine (a Chinese restaurant), Mainely Hair (salon)... you get the picture. And by "family" I mean "the whole fam damily": in addition to Joker and the Bug, I'm talking about my parents, sister, grandparents, one aunt and a cousin.... most impressively, with no casualties!

We started out in Portland for my younger brother's wedding, and a very big "CONGRATULATIONS" are in order for Shane and Ali! The wedding was on Peak's Island, which is a short ferry ride from the Portland harbor, and we had stunning weather and beautiful views of the city. The Bug was a most upstanding flower girl, and according to her discerning eye the bride herself was a princess. All went well, my brother now has a Missus, and the next morning those mentioned above drove a few hours north to the stunning Acadia National Park. More on that to follow.

So apologies for the hiatus, but I'll be posting a few more notes on the trip in the next couple of days, including the few pictures I was able to coax out of my fritzing camera.

This is what a feminist looks like

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 19:39:00 +0000

I was wearing my "This is what a feminist looks like" tank top to a football party a couple of years ago. One of my friends commented that he thought feminists wore cargo pants and Doc Martens. To which I sighed, "Matt, that's the point! Feminists look like that, but they also can be sexy. And, for that matter, they can also be dudes."

And feminists can also be gray-haired old mathematicians, like Gerald Gardner who passed away last week.

A geophysicist and mathematician, Gardner provided the statistical analysis that bolstered a 1973 landmark sex discrimination case. He and his wife were among the earliest members of the Pittsburgh predecessor to NOW.

Reading about Gardner yesterday reminded me of the importance of being a feminist, in practice and in name. And it makes me proud that my husband is one, too. I have a daughter who hugs her football with as much love as she hugs her pink stuffed bears, and that's the way it should be.

Cat gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 20:19:00 +0000

My dear sweet husband is very fond of pointing out that when he met me, I was a hopelessly terrible dancer who hated cats. He takes visible pride in having reversed both of these issues, though friends would probably say that while there has been notable progress on the former, there is still a great deal of work to be done.

This anecdote, however, illustrates how the latter, my new-found regard for cats, is continually put to the test by none other than Sirius and Buffy, themselves. Mostly Sirius.

Some days our hectic lives catch up with us, as happened on Saturday. We had two parties to go to, which used to require only scheduling finesse but with a 2-year-old in the mix seems to be much more challenging. Since the Bug loves parties, she was completely fine with blowing right past her nap amidst the festivities. We got home around 7:00, gave her a quick dinner and bath, and put her to bed by about 8:15. At which time Joker and I proceeded to crash as well, in our clothes and on top of the covers. I got myself up around 9:30... for the excitement of a frozen burrito and a quick read-through of the newspaper.

So as not to arouse my sleeping husband, I didn't turn on any of the lights as I passed through our room on the way to brush my teeth. Which is how my left foot found itself smack dab in the middle of a cold, wet pile of gently used cat food. I silently cursed Sirius while I scrubbed cat vomit out of our white shag carpet in the dark. His furry black ass is now on Cat Treat Probation. If he remains barf-free, he'll be permanently off of the crunchy little feline-meth tablets. If his vomit problem returns, in addition to being sans treats, he'll also win himself an all-expense paid trip to le vet to see if anything can be done. I'm pretty sure when I agreed to bring him into our home it was under the explicit condition that I never - repeat, NEVER - would clean up after him. Of course, I'm pretty sure I also swore he would never sleep in our bed, that if he ever woke me up he'd be banished from the bedroom, and that Joker would have to brush him every day to minimize shedding. Those didn't stick, either.

Smithsonian Art Museum: Washington, DC

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 01:25:00 +0000

Mima sent this to the Bug from her latest business-and-pleasure visit to Washington, DC. She said the painting reminded her of the Bug... who immediately remarked upon seeing the postcard that it was a picture of her with her Mima!

That's what I'm into

noreply@blogger.com (Angie) — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 20:28:00 +0000

For someone who works in television, I am woefully unschooled in the programming that actually airs on the medium. So this may come as old news for those of you more in the know, but Flight of the Conchords has got to be funniest show on television. I mean, these guys are freaking hilarious! Joker and I are just a few episodes into the first season, and it is definitely laugh-out-loud funny from start to finish.