Send Chocolate

You can always "count" on me to be inappropriate, sugar

2010-03-14T01:05:00.001-08:00

Remember this is a PG-13 blog. As such, sometimes I post things that are in a gray area. Not unsuitable, but not necessarily for your little kids, either. That being said, I had to post this today. Keep in mind, it's your mind that fills in the blanks. A child wouldn't understand it at all... well, you'll see what I mean.

I suppose I am goin' to hell... but it really made me laugh like a banshee, so hard that I blew snot out of my nose, and started hiccuping, sort of like when the kid farts and I try really hard to look stern and tell him how wrong that was, and next time, go to the bathroom. Meanwhile, I am thinking how well he let that one rip, and my, wasn't it loud? Oh come on, you know you think it, too! I just admit it.

So now that I have thoroughly shamed myself... here's this. If you are easily offended, this is where you close my blog and go read Cute Overload or something.

So do you still love me??

T, who has taken leave of her senses and sorry, mom!

Who could stay mad at this face?

2010-03-12T04:56:00.001-08:00

Remember this, it comes up again tomorrow...once I explain what she did when I have more time.

picture taken with a Canon EOS T1i which is the EOS 500D elsewhere.

picture edited with Picnik.

T, who is the epitome of patience

Wordless

2010-03-10T10:37:00.000-08:00

Image by Send Chocolate via Flickr

I have a friend. Someone I really care about, I have known for a few years now. She's fierce and funny, and sarcastic, and someone I really enjoy spending time with. She doesn't live close, but she's in the same state. We try to get together when one of us in town, it averages out to about once a year, not including BlogHer. We usually hang out at BlogHer all weekend.

I don't usually write posts about other people. I worry about privacy issues. But in this case, I am going to make an exception. Because this person, who I love, her husband is very sick with cancer. And in the next couple of weeks, he is getting ready to undergo a stem cell transplant. Because he is very ill with cancer. And if this doesn't work...there's a very real possibility that nothing will.

So, here is what I want from you. Because, yes, I really want something from you. Ok, two things. The first:

RIGHT now, stop, and pray, send good wishes, whatever it is that you do to whomever it is that you talk to/worship/believe in. If you don't believe in anything, then believe in THEM, dammit. Send good ju-ju.

Secondly, please go and comment upon her post, just to encourage her. She is feeling pretty down, and since I can't do anything from here, I can at least mobilize the troops of social media. Don't think, "Oh no, I don't get involved..." WHAT'S the point of this exercise, this spewing our guts out to the world at large if we DON'T get involved? So. Just Do It.

Then, go hug your loved ones, enjoy every minute you have. Because you just never know.

T, who wants to be able to do MORE

Postcards from the edge

2010-03-09T17:10:00.000-08:00

with apologies to Carrie Fisher...

Image by Send Chocolate via Flickr

You know how we went to New Zealand over a month ago? We were gone for sixteen days, then I came home, readjusted and moved forward. While I was there, I sent four postcards to my home address here in the states. I sent the postcards from the Blue Penguin Colony in Oamaru, to Fullerton, in Southern California, where I live. They were sent as far as I can remember, we mailed them around Feb. 20th. I waited and and waited for them to show up in my mailbox once I got home. I finally gave up.

Yesterday, guess what I found in the mailbox. Apparently, it takes SIX WEEKS to get from the south island of New Zealand to the west coast of the United States. Now, I am a pretty easy-going person, but I think this is ridiculous. It's approximately 7,000 miles from here to Oamaru... but should it really take SIX weeks for a postcard to get here? Was it on the slow boat?

Apparently, some parts of the postal service in New Zealand is privatized. I am thinking they aren't very efficient. And some say that the U.S. should privatize mail as well. can you imagine, waiting SIX weeks to get a post card? More importantly, what about time-sensitive mail?

It was surreal to find those postcards in the mailbox, after I had given up on them. And it made me think, what else might just show up out of the blue?

that library book I lost and paid for when I was twelve. I think it was The Endless Steppes

my keys, in 1988. They were on a Pooh Bear keychain, with a purple pom pom and a "Yes, I know I'm sexy" key fob. I lost them in a dive bar called Doc Rickett's, in Monterey. Pretty sure I lost my dignity there, too. But I Don't really remember. That's probably not recoverable...

JBug's cell phone. Yes, it's missing. Again.

most of my spoons, that have disappeared from the silverware drawer.

all of the mates to the socks that I wash together, and they come out alone

most of the stuff I put away when my parents came to visit and now seems lost forever in the no mans' land that is my closet

my mind

the pithy and witty ending to this post. Cause I got nothin.

T, who should have quit while she was ahead

How about you? What's the weirdest thing you've lost?Tell me about it!

Doggone it, I want a dog!

2010-03-05T17:52:00.000-08:00

Image via Wikipedia

I am starting to feel the need for a dog again. I have tried to resist, we all have. But the pull is getting stronger. I keep seeing pictures and jonesing. Last night, we were watching Pit Boss, about dogs. And when the urge became too strong, I turned it off to watch Kevin Smith instead. And what does he talk about? Dogs! There seems to be a conspiracy in the Universe. It's a huge decision, because in this house, pets are very, very long-term commitments.

I have always wanted a Newfoundland. I adore large dogs. I am only concerned that it is too hot in Orange County for a big, furry behemoth of a dog whose breed was birthed in a cold Canadian province. And can you imagine wet, sandy, furry dog, who drools everywhere constantly? I have also been told that due to the natural oils in their coat, they have to washed frequently or they make marks on the wall. But the heart knows no reason. From the time I was in high school and saw my first one, I want a Newf. Impractical for so many reasons. But really, I already deal with special needs, isn't this just another special need. Kind of endears me more to the breed.

A dog wasn't always an option. A year ago, my youngest had a phobia of dogs. This was partly due to overactive imagination and also due to the crazed chihuahua who lived next door and liked to attack my children when they stepped foot out of our front door. Thankfully, those awful neighbors who would not corral their mutt are gone now. And after a turn with my parents last month, who brought their dog while JNerd and I were in New Zealand, now JBean is all about getting a dog. We will more than likely end up with a another shelter dog, because, really, it feels good to give a dog a second lease on life. And I do go back and forth… I like the fact that with cats you can leave for the day or even a couple of days- and the cats can fend for themselves pretty freely. Dogs need to be walked and since they are pack animals, tend to get depressed if the pack leaders leave for any length of time. It is a lot like having another kid. But then I remind myself that I am done having babies, and maybe this is a stand-in.

I do love my cats, don't get me wrong. But when Tess, our sweet dog of 12 years died a couple of years ago, my son, then 9 I think, looked at me tearfully and said, "I just can't be a boy, without a dog!"

I understand the sentiment, son. Something about a member of the canine persuasion completes me, too. And so. We will be getting a Newf sometime this spring. It's ok if you think I am crazy, all of my friends would agree with you. And I am ok with that.

T, who needs a baby in the house..is it Spring Fever?

You're small fry, stop baiting your mom

2010-02-25T18:50:00.000-08:00

I think I'm a pretty good mom. I don't beat my children, and I give them dessert once in a while. I work hard to be painstakingly fair. I let my oldest daughter borrow my shoes. I take my son to the mall to buy a used video game he desperately wants. (even though he was grounded from the Nintendo at the time). I cuddle and read and go fun places. I strive for consistency. But these days, it feels like my children hate me. This is a sample of what I have heard this week from my little guppies:

You're so evil!
I wish you were dead!
Get off my back!
Leave me the hell alone!
I don't have to listen to you!
Go away go away go away!

I recognize it's not always going to be unicorns and rainbows and lollipops and cotton candy, but it is disheartening. I don't particularly like fishhooks and sea monsters in trade. Maybe just a little cotton candy once in a while would be nice.

My son is 11 now. And I can't stand him on more occasion than not. He is belligerent and snotty and just generally thinks he doesn't have to listen to me half the time. The other half the time he spends begging me for:

money
a ride somewhere to buy something
more video game/computer/toy time/snacks/insert whatever the hell he wants at any given moment

I have no idea if this is typical behavior, or if it is perseveration from the Asperger's on his part. He is like a mongrel dog with a piece of meat: once he gets hold of something in his head, I dare you to try to reach out and pull it away from him. It's just not going to happen. And if you try, be prepared to lose a digit or two. He doesn't back down, and he says what he is thinking. You know all those things we hold in our head that we never speak? He speaks them. At least to me. He just doesn't seem to get it. He doesn't quit. He generally says what he is thinking, no matter how hurtful it may be. Two days ago, he made me cry by calling me names. I tried something new: I grounded him from all electronics. He won't shut up about wanting to play video games. I have mentioned, "I said no, geez, stop badgering me!" Only to hear, "badger, badger, badger…." (oh Internet why must you taunt me so?) I have added more time, and he still won't stop asking, over and over again, whining about how mean I am, and just generally being a boil on my backside. I told him, "Son, you are completely in control of how this plays out. Your mouth is what got you in trouble. Once you stop, it stops." He doesn't have that limit line that most of us have, at least when it comes to me. It concerns me because if he has this attitude now, what will it be like when he is sixteen?

Speaking of sixteen, it sucks, thank you very much. I am not so old that I don't remember what it is to be a teenager. I know that it feels that your parents are on your case constantly, that you can't do anything right, that they think you are stupid. I know how much you yearn for independence and wish you could do things on your own without everyone watching to make sure you complete homework, make deadlines and do chores. I know that feeling. BUT. As a teenager, there is a lack of concern for the above. Priorities don't always match up with what you think is important. So, the internet may appear to have more appeal than say, getting an assignment done for school. And maybe, in my daughter's case, parents have to step in and make sure that the distraction disappears long enough to get said assignment done. And in doing so, that parent may end up feeling exactly the way they swore they never would based upon doing the exact thing they swore they never would. (By the way, this is probably where I say "SORRY MOM!" if you're reading this..I guess you were right and I was a shit as a teenager). Anyway.

I admit since I have been home from New Zealand, my tolerance for crap has been extremely low. I have stepped up my game and been more firm, because I am seeing that not setting clear boundaries for my children is starting to bite me in the butt. I am not a pushover, but I never saw the value in what I saw as authoritarian parenting. I always listened to my children, let them logically discuss issues. These days, that flat isn't working, and it is like living with lawyers. If there is a weak point or a loophole in my argument, they will find it. And you know what? I am just too damned tired to argue with them. Sometimes, you have to do things you really don't want to do. That's just life. And you don't get a choice, and you don't get explanations of why the dishwasher needs to be unloaded in the morning first thing (because if the dishes are clean, there is nowhere to put anything and the the dirty dishes just pile up in the sink, making more work for everyone for your simple convenience of doing the dishwasher later because you "don't want to, and if you want it done right now, why don't you just do it yourself" And? I'm the MOM).

Maybe the answer is just..because I said so. God, how I hate that I have turned into that kind of mother. But. I am tired. Really, really tired. And I cannot explain one more damned thing to ungrateful little yuppie larvae. It just so happens they were spawned by me. Doesn't change the fact that I just can't do it anymore. So.

Just. Do. It.

And, oh God, here it comes…Because I said so.

Or I will take you to Laguna Beach, and so help me, I will feed you to a really big fish.*

*I wrote this before the Sea World catastrophe, and while it may not be in the best taste, I am not changing it. It's humor. Deal with it.

T, who is at a loss

Another sign of the coming Apocalypse

2010-02-24T03:05:00.000-08:00

Anthony Bourdain, cynical, sour and absolutely rough-around-the-edges sexy host of No Reservations, his anything-but-tourist foodie travel show that is my guilty pleasure (with no less than TWELVE episodes currently backed up on the DVR, thankuverymuch)And..he's on ~~drugs~~ ...Yo Gabba Gabba?? wait...isn't that the same thing??

Look at it. LOOK. AT. IT. No, really, you cannot look away. You want to, but it is too strong, the Tony Force is pulling you in.

T, who is dumbfounded

Please don't tell my husband

2010-02-23T02:46:00.000-08:00

I am having a torrid affair. I see him almost every day, God, but he is sexy as hell. And I love the way he sees things. Today, we went for a walk in Fullerton. I held him, and cradling him tightly to my chest, brought him close. We clicked. Ah, joy!

Have you figured it out? I am madly in love with my camera. (Please don't tell my computer).

These two had to be a bit bigger, because they are so rich in detail. I have to admit, I really love this next shot. She caught me.

People have emailed to ask me what camera I have. I use a Canon T1i. This batch was taken with a EFS 18-55mm IS lens.

Edited with Picnik, which I adore and use multiple times a day.

T, who hopes you aren't sick of the photos

How NOT to make an impression at the Ritz

2010-02-22T00:49:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think I'm just not a very good grown up. In fact, maybe I am not a grown up at all. You've heard "You can dress me up, you just can't take me out?" That was for me. Oh, no, you say...you have it together, so sophisticated, cultured. Yeah. Uh huh. Let me tell you.

Tonight, I went to an amazing blogging event put on by SVMoms/LA Moms at the Ritz Carlton in Dana Point. I pull up to the valet in my 2001 minivan with the dent on the side from the hit-and-run driver a few months ago,wasn't I just a sight? Because you know places like that just don't have self-park! So I stop the car, and I must have been nervous, because I had the damn thing still in Drive and it started rolling. Sweet. Not fast, just enough to fluster me. (what am I doing here?)

The event itself was wonderful. Everyone was so nice. We all mingled really well, and no one put on airs. It was wonderful to see familiar faces, and meet new people, too. I gained some great insight into how P.R. people think and gained some great tips for video blogging. (stay tuned, hint, hint.. Not that you want to see my goofy face every day, but oh well). Afterwards, we were invited into the actual event room, and wow. An entire room of people who just want to meet me! (and other moms, of course). So many wonderful brands were represented: Stonyfield Farm with new greek yogurt (to die for!) and Whole Foods and new Cinnabon cupcakes and Skechers Shape Ups shoes and the cutest little bag from Ju Ju Be that I put my camera in while it rides in my purse and Stride Rite and iGo and Bosch Tassimo and Taga and and... And? Chocolate!

Still with me? I can feel your eyes glazing over as I write this, but bear with me, this is where it gets good. I am standing at the Bosch Tassimo table, and they are drawing me a nice cappuccino (sooo cultured am I) when my overladen butt (not because it's big, mind you...I just had a bunch of things I was carrying) sideswiped the coffee cup table and...well, let's just say, I got noticed. Here I am, in the Ritz Carlton, trying to be cool and show brands why they want to work WITH ME! ..when the cups started crashing down around me. And it was loud. Conversation slowed, and the cups just kept falling. It was one of those moments that goes on forever. I just closed my eyes, willing it to stop. I viewed the wreckage, then turned to the nearest Ritz Carlton employee and said, "You can just take that out of my paycheck." Someone near me said something about "Hope they don't make you pay for that, heh." Grinning sheepishly, I replied, "If I have to pay for cups at the Ritz, maybe the economy is worse than I thought!" Baby, take a bow.

A train wreck? Honestly, what else can you expect from me? I was visiting a friend in San Diego, picture this. We are in this really swanky, tony hotel bar, happy hour, having cocktails. Now, I don't have cocktails out very often. Yeah, ok, popping down to the local pub for a pint is more my speed, but I was living like a grown up this day. I sit down at the bar, order the nice foofy drink and set my water bottle on the stool next to me, with my purse. (we had been walking and the bottle was too large to fit in my purse. It manages to fall to the floor and roll all the way across the bar (did it come with batteries, what the heck?!) The live musicians STOPPED playing and waited. And me? I of course, just cringed. Because what else do you do in that situation? Take a bow? Oh, yeah, I did that, too.

My father used to tell me I couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time. I think he may have been right. But wouldn't you think, at my age, I would grow out of it? So. Not. Fair.

the wonderful pictures of me were taken by my friend Julie. She was sweet enough to use my camera so I have proof I was there. The others are all my own work.

T, who might be dangerous

On Car Bingo, Marriage and Penguins

2010-02-18T23:55:00.000-08:00

With Valentine's Day behind us, I've had time to reflect a little on my relationship with my husband. What keeps two people still so much in love after twenty years? I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I know what is working for us. Of course, we are a work in progress, but so far, so good! A key component to our relationship? Humor. NEVER never never take yourself too seriously.

I have a prime example of our relationship. When we were in New Zealand, we invented a brand new travel game to pass the time. Though the South Island is beyond beautiful, there isn't a lot to see to keep your brain busy, so some creativity is in order.

JNerd and I invented New Zealand Car Bingo. The rules are simple. There are five items in this game, short and sweet. Simply call out the item, and see who's first. Because you'll see one of the five at least every few miles, it passes the time. See who can spot it first. Then laugh. A lot. A variation is to call out the items in a dead-pan voice, a la Monty Python. Laughter is still required, however.

Cow

Sheep

Tractor

Old Church

Statue/War Memorial

Honorable mention goes to the obligatory statue of Queen Victoria in every major city that we visited. Either in the botanic gardens, or in the middle of a park...there she was, towering over everyone. Victorian era, indeed.

No matter where we went, these items were ever-present. It livened up the drive (which was beyond gorgeous anyway) and allowed JNerd and I to loosen up and enjoy playing together. It's amazing to me how much we had forgotten how to play. But it is like riding a bicycle...it comes back. Over the two weeks we were together, we rediscovered how much we like each other, and how much fun we have together. I wish we had more opportunities, but I know that we will both make more of an effort to just loosen up and have fun. Because it made us young, and silly.

One of my very favorite animals is the penguin. They are awkward little guys. Slow and clumsy-looking on land, but lithe and amazing in the water. As if that's not enough, most species mate for life. I just love the romanticism season after season of the same female pairing up with the same male to make more babies. (I don't want any more babies, but I can appreciate that they might). There is something endearing about finding one another over and over again. Sounds like marriage. I wonder if penguins laugh, too?

I remembered (and I hope he did, too) "Hey, I like you, you're a blast to hang out with!" And isn't that why we married in the first place?

T, who shares my cookies and my recess (and even my chocolate) with him

all pictures taken by me except Cow (have you ever tried to take a picture of a cow, from a moving vehicle?) Cow picture by FelixLaCat used under a cc license Share-Alike 2.0

Intent is 9/10ths of the battle

2010-02-12T18:17:00.000-08:00

I admit it, I wear my heart on my sleeve. So it isn't that difficult to hurt my feelings. It has been my Achille's heel for most of my life. In grade school I was a perfect target for bullies: I could be reduced to tears very easily.

They say "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me, " and even as a child, I knew that was a crock of crap. And I suppose you could argue that if you let people get to you, they will, but I cannot successfully harden my heart to the point that criticism does not get in. I tried for a while. I didn't like who I became. I was brittle, with sharp edges. Not a fun person to be around. Not a fun person to be.

These days, I am stronger. I am open emotionally, the better to love. And sometimes, it hurts. So when my son said to me, "Did you ride a dinosaur to school named Fluffy?" as funny as it sounds now, I had to swallow the lump in my throat. Because it was his intent to hurt my feelings. Autism, or no autism. He was angry that I wouldn't take him to the video game store so he could trade in his old video games for a new one. And he wanted to make me pay. He took cheap shots about my age, something he knows I can be sensitive about.

So even though it was a silly thing to say, and laughable as far as insults go, I responded to his intent, not his words. Now, after all these years, it finally dawned on me why my feelings are hurt so easily. It isn't what you say, it's how you say it. Lesson learned, and ready to be taught.

Funny how even now I am learning things about myself.

T, who just wants people to be nice to one another

Why I am not mentally home yet from New Zealand

2010-02-09T01:20:00.000-08:00

taken with Canon T1i

T, who is gradually coming back, at least the routine is normal again

Aftermath

2010-02-05T00:57:00.000-08:00

My suitcase is heavy. It sits, crouched in my room, next to the closet. I haven't had the nerve to unpack it yet. It looms, pregnant with unrealized dreams, frustrations and what could have been. I try to ignore it. I don't do a very good job. Every time I walk into the room, there it is.

Sixteen days. Seems like a lifetime ago. That's when I kissed plump cheeks goodbye, squeezed sticky hands with admonishments to "be good", and climbed into my father-in-law's car to drive to the airport with my husband. I had high hopes, but didn't really know what to expect. We hadn't been away together for any length of time since the children were born. We were ready.

And it was wonderful. Awesome, even. We drove down the coast of New Zealand, stopping wherever our hearts lead us. We had no agenda, and no qualms about enjoying the company of one another. Memories were made that will last a lifetime. That's the problem.

I had to come home. And I can't see home the same anymore. I have never allowed myself to consider what life would have been like without my children. It is what it is, is my motto, why push it? But for sixteen glorious days, I was not a mother. I was just…me. With him. And it was wonderful. My heart was full. No tethering to others' needs or whims. I was free. It couldn't last, and it didn't.

I had thirteen hours en route to LAX to forget that bliss; to morph back into a mother who puts her children first again. But those shoes aren't fitting very well. I am aware that makes me an awful, selfish person. And it is why my suitcase is heavy. It is a constant reminder of what I had. And unpacking it means I will ferret it away into a closet, forgetting what it was like to live from it for weeks. Unpacking would be putting to rest the adventurer and the free spirit I was two weeks ago. And I am just not ready to do that.

And the guilt? The guilt is palpable. I can taste it on my tongue, metallic and bitter, like I need to brush my teeth. I want to be that mother again, but I don't know how. I almost wish I had never gone, because now? Now I am back. And I know what I am missing, every minute, of every day.

My suitcase is heavy, but not as heavy as my heart.

T, who hopes I will get over this

Islands in the stream..er sea

2010-01-23T13:58:00.000-08:00

Day 4 here in Wellington dawned overcast, but it quickly grew warmer as the sun came out. A short walk along the waterfront and we were at our destination: The City and Sea Museum. Ten years old, this museum boasts an extensive history of Wellington life and commerce. I know, sounds boring. But it was actually a really neat little museum.

Here is a hobbit foot. You're welcome.

My favorite was their Alice-in-Wonderlandish tribute for their anniversary. It was very Jules Verne/steampunk and a really clever medium to deliver information.

After the museum, we boarded the ferry and headed for Somes Island. We ate lunch on board, catered fish & chips. The chips were very good: thick-sliced and hot. The fish was nice, as well. The ferry trip took about 15 minutes across gloriously blue waters that were relatively calm.

Somes Island is a wildlife sanctuary free of predators. Once we disembarked the ferry, we were lead into a small room with two doors. We were asked to check our bags for rodents or ants, as well as our shoes for dirt. Non-native pests could be devastating for the environment at Somes, so we all understood.

The walkabout on Somes was a fairly gentle slope winding around the perimeter of the island. It was a trek, but not as bad as the day before. It was, however, hot, and bit uncomfortable because of it. We didn't notice that much because we were distracted by the beautiful views and the birds.

Once we arrived back to the dock, we found we had over an hour before our ferry was due to come back. So I kept myself busy taking pictures of the birds on the beach.

Back on the mainland, plans for the evening were a bit sparse. JNerd had a function and I elected to stay in for the night. A can of chili, a candy bar and my computer, and I was set. I really just needed a night to recharge. I truly believe I am just a homebody at heart.

T, who is having a wonderful time

The one where we go uphill...both ways!

2010-01-21T04:55:00.000-08:00

Day 3 here in Wellington, New Zealand dawned warm and sunny. Just the kind of glorious day that makes you glad to be alive. The tour started out with a walk along the water front. We had a tour of the capital building, called the Beehive. See if you can figure out why!

We had to go through security, and check all of our bags. There was no photographing of the building, so I missed out on some nice shots. Kiwis are very proud of their heritage. And symbolism is very high on their list of priorities. The artwork in the gallery area of the courtyard is fraught with meaning: the earth, the sky, the night, it all has a deeper point. It was interesting.

Afterwards, we set out for a walking tour of the Thorndon area, where there are some quaint cottages. We started out touring a beautiful old church, and I didn't want to leave. It was spectacular.

We walked to the Botanic Gardens (uphill, thank you very much!) and stopped for lunch. Then there was time for a wander as we hiked up more steep hills to to get to the top and take the cable car back down to the city. What's wrong with this picture, you ask? Shouldn't we have taken the cable car UP and then walked back DOWN hill, you ask? And, you would be right to question it. I don't make the rules though, so though it killed a lot of us, we just toughed it out.

Here you can see just how high we were. YES, we had to walk the entire hill to get there. Flat ground, to mountain slope, complete with switchbacks. I now know why people in Wellington are so fit! They are masochists!

Back in town, the geeks cooked dinner at the hotel and we were in for the night. I was really too tired after my hike to go much of anywhere!

T, who figures I'll be a size 2 by the time I go home

"Nothing beats Wellington on a good day"

2010-01-18T04:46:00.002-08:00

I have so many pictures and cannot possibly do them justice. If you want to see, check my flickr.

Let me tell you, internal body clock mess is weird. This morning I snapped awake, convinced I had overslept and missed the alarm. Turns out we were fine, and my body was responding to California time, thinking it was 10 a.m. It was actually 7 a.m. New Zealand time. So, once awake, we dressed and headed to the convention center. After some coffee and an amazing chocolate croissant, I was ready to play tourist with the rest of the group.

We boarded a bus for a tour of Wellington, which was beyond fascinating. No, that's not sarcasm, it really was. I found out why we couldn't find food last night (the city is compartmentalized; restaurants and bars are located on Courtnay Place, where all the cool people eat, apparently.

I also know now that the passing resemblance that Wellington has to San Francisco is not a coincidence. By design, English colonists visited San Francisco and brought 4 house frames with them with which to build houses in the city. Wellington and San Francisco have common traits: both are on a bay, both are hilly, and both are on fault lines. Wellington's founders figured San Francisco was doing it right, and set out to model the city after The City by the Bay. The result to me is a place that feels vaguely familiar; dynamic and quirky.

By mid day, the sun was out, if you can believe it. We stopped at the top of Mount Victoria, and were afforded some of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen. The natives say that Wellington on a good day cannot be beaten. I would be inclined to agree. If the sun shined every day here, they would never be able to be rid of visitors!

Afterwards, we took a turn through the opera house, which was older and beautiful. I have a lot of photos of the Opera House, and you have to see them large on my flickr.

Lunch was next and then we were off to the Te Papa Museum.

Built in 1998, and completely free, the Te Papa is one of the most interesting museums I have ever visited. Covering most of New Zealand culture, the Te Papa is a 6 floor buidling jam-packed with exhibits from native history to natural disasters to the Colossal Squid. I couldn't see it all even if I had a week. But I will definitely go back before we leave.

Te Papa reminds me of a bit of Monterey Bay Aquarium, L.A. Museum of Natural History and a science museum all in one. It also houses extensive art galleries. The funky vibe from the architecture is infectious. It is inviting and encourages wandering. It is extremely kid-friendly with a ton of interactive exhibits and "Discovery Centers" where you can delve deeper into the exhibits by doing research. It really is an amazing place. And? Colossal Squid!

Afterwards, a few of us headed upstairs to the cafe for snacks. It was very relaxing sitting in the middle of the museum and sipping a mocha. I have to say, Wellington has ruined me for coffee anywhere else, I think. They take their coffee seriously, and Wellington is home to not one, but two coffee roasteries. Pretty amazing, considering that Wellington only has 260,000 residents!

I finished my day with a walk along the waterfront, taking pictures as the mood struck. It was a glorious day, full of warmth and sun. Many people came out to jog, bike and walk babies in strollers. It is hard not to be happy in the face of that joy.

I picked JNerd up from the conference and we headed to the tweet up scheduled for the evening. Some chatting, some laughing and some beer (not necessarily in that order) finished off a simply wonderful day. I was tired, but content.

Tomorrow, a tour of the Parliament building. I hope my feet can stand up to the punishment. It is bound to be heavy on walking.

T, who is NOT leaving

You need wellies in Wellington, New Zealand..THIS is summer??

2010-01-17T03:24:00.000-08:00

I apologize in advance for turning this blog into a travelogue, at least for the next two weeks. But you see, I never go anywhere. (well, unless you count BlogHer). Finally, after 20 years, my husband and I have taken a trip together. He is speaking at Linux Conference Australia and I came along for the ride. Well, actually more like a 12 hour plane trip to New Zealand. But if you absolutely cannot stand it, you can take the advice to the left and exit...in an orderly fashion.

I plan to record the stay for family and those who might care. I loaded the images smaller to make it easy to upload from New Zealand, but you can visit my flickr for the larger images. Most of the pictures are available larger. Just click on the pictures for more detail.

After twelve hours on the plane, we arrived in Auckland only to have to sprint to our connecting flight transfer to Wellington. We had little time to make our connection and were really out of breath (which meant I could curse my husband less for such a short layover). After a short hop, we landed in Wellington. It was raining and windy. It still is...and is scheduled to rain all week.

Our car picked us up and took us to the no-frills student housing which was a trip down Twenty-Something Lane about twenty years too late. We walked into our "room" to find a large stain on the floor of something nondescript, a sink, a rickety double bed with a thin coverlet, a stainless steel military-issue desk and an Ikea-type budget wardrobe. That's it. I have to tell you, after twelve hours on the flight to Auckland, and another hour to Wellington, it was too much for me. I cried. Go ahead, laugh. Ok, you suck. No, really. I am laughing about it now as well. But at the time? It wasn't funny.

The room has NO bathroom. I have to go down the hall to the bathroom and the shower. And the shower? Ack, don't get me started! It isn't a spray, it is a spigot, sticking out of the wall. And the hot water is non-existent. I washed my hair in cold water and it took a long time to get warm again. Clearly, this set up was designed by the Marquis Du Sade. Or his evil twin brother, Hector. I do have to say, the "common areas" of the place make up for it. There is a really nice tv room, a communal meeting area, an exercise area with recumbent bikes and a kitchen as well. And a giant chess board. How cool is that?

I have to give my JNerd a pass on this one, though. He wanted to be where the students were so he could hang out and get to know them. And it is his conference,not mine. He is in a select group of speakers here, there's a lot of competition for those coveted speaker slots. So I have to give credit where it is due. It's His Thing. I just let him do it.

The venue for the conference is beautiful. Located at the convention center, it is well-appointed for events. The main hall is daunting and amazing. It is also where JNerd is going to be speaking on Friday. Wow.

The town is quaint and picturesque. It's artsy. Because it is a student town, it is also a mecca for backpackers. There are a lot of very inexpensive accommodations here. The vibe is young, and funky. Everyone I have seen is physically fit and stylish. I on the other hand, brought summer clothes, because well, it is supposed to be summer here! But it is colder than my southern California winter. Go figure.

The food here is good, when you can find it. We had wonderful breakfast this morning. I am now ruined for pancakes without ice cream and strawberries.yes, ice cream on pancakes..who'da thunk? Dinner was a bit tougher. Being Sunday, most every place closes early. We had to walk quite a few blocks before we found the Belgian restaurant where we eventually were able to get dinner. Walking back, it was dark, and windy. But our bellies were full of delicious warm yummies to sustain us on the walk back to the hotel.

Dinner was passable: meatloaf sandwich, a bit peppery. But dessert was amazing. And I had the most perfect cappuccino to prove it.

Tomorrow, I join the Partner's Program for the duration of the conference. Wellington bus tour here I come. Nobody here but us tourists!

T, who is enjoying the first real vacation in 20 years

Why I fear airport security

2010-01-12T02:05:00.000-08:00

In three days I will be in line at LAX, waiting to be screened for my flight to New Zealand. I will be terrified. Yes, I have flown before, but airport security always scares me. Standing in line, having them peruse my ticket and my passport always feels like sitting there in that big chair in the principal’s office.

When I was in the eighth grade I was caught cheating on a test. It was the first and last time I ever cheated. The teacher sent me to the principal’s office and as I write this that cold, hard ball of fear settles in the pit of my stomach. It has been many years, but I remember what the office smelled like (a combination of plants, Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion and some sort of minty after shave. To this day, after shave still makes me want to throw up). I sat on the narrow bench waiting to see the principal. I don’t even remember what he looked like, or who he was. Which is peculiar. I think I blocked the memory. I know he called my father, at work, and my father had to come down and pick me up. He was a sergeant in the Army. To say that he was unhappy was an understatement.

Looking back, it was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me in my young life. I never again tried to cheat, at anything, ever. It wasn’t that I was worried about getting caught. My father took me home and sat me down. He was not a gentle man, but I saw softness in his eyes. With intensity, he looked and me and said, “You’re better than that. You don’t need to cheat. Cheaters never prosper, but more importantly, they can’t look themselves in the eye in the mirror. You have one thing that no one can take away from you. It is yours to lose. Your integrity is who you are.” And then he left my room, closing the door softly.

We never spoke of it again.

But as I stand in line waiting for airport security to use their funny little light pens to make sure I am legitimate, as I divulge myself of my personal effects, and they run through the x-ray for all to see, as I walk through the metal detector, I hold my breath. I am afraid.

T, who is leavin' on a jet plane

Just to be safe the bomb squad is on speed-dial

2010-01-09T15:44:00.000-08:00

JNerd: If your son asks you if he can have it, I already told him no.
Me: ::look:: What?
JNerd: C-4. He wanted C-4. So, just for the record, I already told him no.
Me: "!!"

T, who says time to slow down on the Mythbusters

This is not a list of New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-03T13:16:00.002-08:00

I hate New Year's Resolutions. Who actually keeps those resolutions, anyway? When I was younger, I would make myself promises and pretend I would keep them. I would finally start going to the gym every other day. I would spend my money more wisely. I did well, until around March. Then I would start slacking off. I didn't mean to do so, but I just didn't stick with it. It always started with just little things at first. I would miss that day at the gym, and promise myself I would be back with the program the next day. But once the commitment was broken, it was that much easier to just let it go. So I stopped the resolutions. But I have thought about it, and there are some commitments that just need to be kept.

I am not sure I have told you all this (yes I have) but I am a bit domestically challenged. I was meant for bigger things, I guess. I am busy writing and being fabulous and get distracted when it comes to keeping my home. (It's not like I can trade it in, let's be honest here). So, looking around, I realized a couple of things. First, my house is a mess. Second, my parents come to housesit and watch the kids in just a bit over 2 weeks. I have to get my butt in gear. I really lag in the organizational department. It is easy for me to get addled and… look! Squirrel! The following is a list of some things I need to deal with in the coming months, I guess. If I feel like it.

I promise to pay more attention to my children this year. It's the little things. My youngest went to Christmas dinner with family with feet that were dirtier than a hobbit. Nobody saw them, they were in socks and shoes. But they were very disgusting. I have no idea how her feet got that dirty. I guess I need to make sure she bathes more often. It isn't that I am lazy. I swear. And my kids aren't being ignored. I am so busy keeping psychological order in my house that some things fall apart. My only excuse is that Christmas preparations made me overlook a small thing like a bath. What? They eat. What more do you want from me?

Ok, another thing: I guess we need to eat at home more. These last couple of months, I really took the easy way out. Besides being expensive, going out to dinner isn't that healthy. Fast food is crap. Yes, I am fundamentally lazy, and don't really like to cook, but I am not Oprah. I cannot afford a personal chef. This cooking gig falls to me. So time to get off my butt and make sure my family eats well. I am so busy writing and doing things that are Important (What? those Rabbids NEED to be pimped!) I forget people need to eat, I guess. Doesn't help when no matter what I fix I get, "Hmmph. I'm not EATING!" from the littlest one. Kind of kills any desire to experiment in the kitchen.

And yeah, I imagine my house needs a bit of a cleaning. Or something. It is just frustrating, every time I clean it gets dirty again. I think that the Messy House Fairies live here and come out when we are sleeping. You've seen Pigpen, from the Peanuts comic strip? He takes a bath, and gets dirty just walking? I go to bed with the house clean and wake up to find things everywhere. The principle of entropy states that all things are hurdling headlong towards chaos, naturally. My house is a great example of that.

I feel like Genghis Khan trying to force people into indentured servitude if I ask my children to lend a hand. So rather than fight the complaining, I do it myself. And there is only so much of me going around. So walk around that toy, I don't care. Mama needs a drink. If you trip over it, pick it up. Someone wise once said cleaning house while the kids are awake is like stringing beads with no knot on the end. I am certain she was a mother. And she probably drank.

And while we are on the subject of messy, there's the car. We don't live in our car, but it sure looks like it. I have a rule, if you bring something to the car, you must take it out. It doesn't fly. Most of the time, it cannot walk its way out of the car, it needs help to get back to its rightful place. I get distracted, they ignore it and we are back to "the car should be parked at a rest stop cause we are camping in it" look. It takes more energy than I have trying to stay on top of it.

I will throw out all of those socks. (oh shut up, you have them, too!) I have a box of socks in the closet with no mates. I think there might even be some infant socks in there. I am loathe to throw them out, because I know as soon as I do I will find the mates. What do you do with mismatched socks? When the kids were younger, we make sock puppets and called it "crafting." (I am still trying to figure out what to do with the dryer lint). Oh, yeah. I will also keep up with the laundry. Also known as: that stuff I fold and then it gets thrown back in the hamper by the teenager without even the courtesy of unfolding it.

I will get on top of the paper this year. I am drowning in bills, junk mail, solicitations, coupons… they just keep coming. No sooner do I get rid of one crop, another pile springs up. It's like an evil hydra of information. I get over 4 bundles of direct mail ads a week, not counting catalogs, bills, and the various normal mailings. I would burn the damn house down to get out from under them. But we had a house fire three years ago. I know I don't want to go through that again! I pay all of the bills online, but cannot allow myself to stop the paper bills. What if I forget to pay something? And the Bill Police show up at my door? And take out an ad in the newspaper and then no one will sell us anything like food and stuff? And then we wind up homeless? (Yes, this keeps me up at night..I think a lot).

So I have a couple of bags of miscellaneous papers in my closet. I figure if they sit there for a while, once they are all outdated, I can just go throw it all in the recycling bin. (after shredding it, of course). While I am on the subject, who asked for all this suck-ass circular junk mail crap? Direct mail campaigns are so wrong. I didn't order it, I don't want it. Save the cost and save the trees. Save me the aggravation. Don't send it. I get that everyone needs a job, but does it have to be rubber-banding paper for the local Chinese restaurant and tree surgeon on my door when I am not home? This stuff makes me want to kill someone.

I will go to bed at a decent hour. I am nocturnal, and always think if I go to bed, I am missing out on the 24 hour party that is going on without me. It isn't necessarily about the Internet. It can be TV, a good book, even loading the dishwasher. My favorite time is when I am the only one awake. The house is quiet, the cats are relaxed. And I am wide awake. It makes it really hard to go to bed. But then I am tired the next day, and all of the above things seem like a mountain I don't want to climb. Unless there is chocolate at the summit.

Looking at this list, you might ask what I have to offer, if it isn't my immaculate house and chef-like cooking skills. Why, life is a party around here! My stellar wit and winning personality are all my family will ever need. That, and when the mood strikes, I give killer hugs.

T, who is ON It

The password is... PASSWORD..NO! Thank you for playing

2009-12-30T23:59:00.000-08:00

Do you use your kids' names as a password? Your pet's name, that you talk about on your blog? You might want to rethink that strategy. Seriously. I have a friend right now in shock because she had an easy-to guess password. Someone hacked her gmail account. She lost everything. This includes her email, her blogs (which were on Blogger, owned by, who else? Google). What's more, her passwords were in a folder, in her gmail account. So, the person who hacked her has it all. She is left with nothing and is scrambling to undo the damage that can be done all over the Internet. Meanwhile, she is locked out of everything Google. Can you imagine? Another reason computing in the Cloud has me a bit a-skeered...Google owns my life.

It is easy to get lax, but here's the deal, from me to you. If you have a word from the dictionary as a password, change it, RIGHT NOW. I'll wait. ...

...are you back? This is why: there are programs that just run dictionary words and common numbers trying to hack your password. Make no mistake, there are people out there, right now, as I write this, trying to hack you. A combination of letters, numbers and upper and lower case characters are the best chance you have to keep those out who want in to your accounts. Go ahead, make use of that shift bar. Also, while I am on the subject, make a new password for every single service you use online. I know it's a pain, but this way, if someone gets into one, they don't necessarily get into everything.

I know, I know..it's hard to keep track of that many passwords, but you have some options. If you are on a Mac, you have Keychain to help you. You can store passwords, but also generate them as well. On a PC, you can use Password Safe, an application that you download and use locally. It creates files for your passwords, and a master password to protect them all. What's more, it is open source, so you don't pay anything for it. As for what you find on the Internet, I would be very, very wary of any online password meters. How do you know that your password is not being snarfed? Keep it local! It's also smart to write those puppies down in case you have a hard drive crash. This actually happened to me in July, and I lost half of my passwords. Luckily, I did have most of them written down, and backed up.

I don't want to hear that you have been hacked, so change that password. Change it often. And store your passwords locally, not ONLINE where they can be hacked. Your online identity, treat it the way you would your bank information. Treat it the way you would your first born child. Guard it.

Consider this my public service announcement to all of you. Much love. Peace out.

T, who changed mine the minute I heard about this

Christmas, OCD & me

2009-12-24T15:59:00.000-08:00

It's in the air. If you are quiet, you can hear it. The ringing of bells by bored Salvation Army volunteers. The muttered cussing of a mother as she tries to find a parking space at the mall. The movement of boxes as Daddy tries to find the lights so he can string them on to the Christmas tree. The hollow "Oof!" as I am elbowed in the ribs to get the last copy of the only game my son wants for Christmas this year, bar none. The screams of yet another child placed on Santa's lap against his will by a well-meaning mother, trying to simply make memories for her family. Poor woman. I learned the hard way with that one: just not worth it. This time of year fills me with dread.

I used to have a brain, but somewhere around Nov, specifically the third week or so, my brain goes missing. Some call it anxiety over perfectionism. I call it par-for-the-course. But it makes the holidays stressful, not fun, and a lot more work than they need to be. I can't figure out how to change this, try as I might. It is a mountain I am tired of climbing. ( a chimney I am tired of going down?) One of these days, I am going to say "Screw it," and we will head somewhere warm, sunny and sandy for the holidays. But not this year. This year, I just have to get through it. Come January 4th, all will be okay again.

There just seems to be so much to do, and every year, I tell myself I will simplify. But how? When you create traditions (which, in this house, means you did it twice) you have to keep with them, or the kids see the sky falling and run to tell the king. So, I prepare. I buy Christmas Eve Pajamas. I make the Christmas Morning breakfast ahead of time. I take pictures of artfully arranged presents under the tree for the umpteenth time. I call my doctor for a prescription of Xanax. (that last part is just on the wish list inside my head…I don't actually do drugs).

Parents always want to do better for their kids than was done for them, but in my case, my mother set the bar quite high when it comes to Christmas. She has a knack for giving the Perfect Gift, Just What I Always Wanted, and unfortunately, that talent skipped a generation. Don't get me wrong, I know how to give good gifts. But I don't have a sixth sense about it. I suppose that I will have to content myself with my writing prowess and my wit. Oh, and my humility.

Even with preparation, I am terrified I will forget something and it will be too late. I guarantee that on Dec. 24th at about 9 p.m. I will, in a panic, realize that the gifts aren't quite even, and send my husband out into the cold, foraging for toys at the local drug store that is open until midnight. This happens every year. When making cookies? I will get halfway through the recipe and remember that I needed butter. Or shortening, that I swear I purchased last week, but cannot find. Again with the venturing out into the cold in search of baking supplies. He is so good to me.

I am worried I am doing it wrong, I have a master list of gifts for Christmas morning. Santa isn't the only one who makes a list and checks it twice! Mine is a symbol chart with the gifts in numerical order. I color code the wrapping paper to reduce the chance of JBug getting a Star Wars Lego set or JBean, the bug phobic getting an ant farm. Drop the ball once, and they never let you live it down. Now I remember who belongs to what gift. But it means having six different kinds of wrapping paper, and I like lots of different colors, so the wrap has to be in complementary colors. We don't discuss the Bowing of the Presents…of course there must be bows and curling ribbon. It's a sickness. After comes the arranging of the presents… they all must be seen correctly, with the small ones in front of the larger ones, and mixed up according to who they belong to. No wonder I am tired.

Still, as much as I obsess, as much as I worry, it all seems to come together, every year. And the results are worth it. When I hear the excited whispers on Christmas morning, feign sleep and wait for my little one to wake me with giggles and "Santa was here!" I remember why I do it. Come to think of it, it's why I do most everything: the joy on the faces of my children. Seen through their eyes, I can finally find the magic that this old jaded heart was missing. It's then that I remember what Christmas is all about.

T, who wishes you and yours the happiest of holidays

As a parent I could be on thin ice..but not tonight

2009-12-23T02:11:00.002-08:00

Tonight the kids and I attended the opening night of Disney on Ice: World of Fantasy. Littles was really looking forward to it, asking a few times this week when we would be going. Tonight was the night. We were there for media night, along with other bloggers and press staff. It was a new experience for me, and one that I hope to repeat soon!

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

It was a rather cold night, so we stood outside, huddled together for warmth. JBean was so excited though, she barely felt the frigid wind. And I had a new camera to keep me occupied. JBear did karate katas to stay warm.

Once inside, we headed to the preshow, where we saw Cinderella and the newest Disney princess, Tiana. JBean had just seen Princess and the Frog, so she was very happy to see "Tiana" up close. Along the way, there were stations with princess gowns to be gawked at as well.

Once the preshow was over, we snagged a couple of hot dogs and headed in to our seats. Everywhere, were vendors trying to sell us overpriced concessions, marketed to the little ones in an effort to shame Mama into purchasing plastic cups filled with rainbow snowcones, light-up fairy wings and tulip hats wrapped around cotton candy. As you can see, I was not able to resist the siren call of the hat.

The show itself was typical kid fare, vignettes of Little Mermaid, Lion King and Cars, along with the newer Tinkerbell/Pixie Hollow franchise. The first half of the show was the former; the second half was the latter. My children really enjoyed the first half of the show, as did I. The costumes and staging were interesting, and played well in the arena. The skating was good, though not expert Olympic level. Still, it worked.

After Intermission, the Tinkerbell portion of the show was next. My little one liked this...she loves fairies. My 11 year old son was a bit more reserved, though. He thought it was not as good as the first half. Honestly, I agreed with him: maybe it was the familiarity of the songs in the first half, but the second half just didn't grab me. I also think since I haven't really seen the Tinkerbell animated movies that the show was based upon, I didn't have a lot to compare it with. As I said, my little one, the target audience member, of course, thoroughly enjoyed it.

Would I go again? Yes, I would. When we arrived home, my little one kept saying over and over again, "Thank you Mama for taking me to the show! I had So Much Fun!"

It doesn't get any better than that.

T, who figures it's all worth it, right?

My little lamb found her way home

2009-12-15T01:30:00.000-08:00

Well, The Nutcracker is done and over this year, and another costume is but a memory. Jbean wasn't in love with this year's dance or the costume, but it was still pretty cute. The production was at a local community theatre, and it was very nicely staged. ... of course we all love the result, but it is a lot of work getting there! And she is still so young...if she sticks with ballet, I cannot imagine what our holidays will look like. We already had rehearsals most Sunday afternoons in October and November, and Jean only had a small part. I think the older girls who audition for solos just about live at the studio! (and it showed, they are all really very good!) I mentioned before how worried I was about her being able to master her dance, but she did really well! It wasn't perfect, but then, that isn't as important at this level. It is important to relax and have fun. As they get older, their technique improves.

Big brother was on hand to cheer her on, and though it isn't his favorite, he was good at supporting her. Grandma Sue was able to be there, and that meant a lot to JBean, too. JBean loves her instructor, who also owns the studio.

Jbug couldn't be there, she was in rehearsal for her own production. They start their run this Friday, though I have been running since she signed up. Often, they both had to be somewhere at the same time. So that was fun. Still, it is a very good experience for them both, so I am willing to overlook a bit of inconvenience.

T, who is breathing again, at least for a minute or so

Happy Hannukah from Adam Sandler (and me)

2009-12-13T02:29:00.000-08:00

I am not Jewish, but this song has been stuck, like an earworm, in my head for a week now. Now it's stuck in your head, too. You're welcome.

Adam Sandler - The Hannukah Song (Pt. 1)

Chanukah Song Pt. 2

this is an awful video intro, so go past the first 30 seconds or so...I couldn't find another copy of it

Chanukah Song Pt 3.

Because 2 just wasn't enough

T, who hates gin and tonic-a