Oh, I'm Impressed, All Right

What is the deal with all these hostages coming to light lately, held for years after being held captive, being forced to bear children, etc.? How many more are there that just haven't been found?

People can look at this guy [/these guys] and dismiss them as loonies, but the thing that scares me is their normalcy. They're not that over-the-edge bizarre personally except in how they have actually acted out this awful fantasy of consuming and destroying someone else's life for one's own selfish wishes (slavery). Which, not too long ago, was normal for certain parts of our society.


*Okay, after looking at his blog, the writing itself looks like that of pretty much every other paranoid schizophrenic on the web that I've seen. So I guess he was pretty weird personally after all. In fact, this guy will be a black eye for the SZ community, who do not generally kidnap and assault anyone.

Halfway

Three weeks until I get the cast off.

BBC Clown Singer?

Does anyone else recall watching a television series (BBC, I think) involving a woman who was a lounge singer / pianist who also supported herself by working as a clown? It was painfully hilarious. I wish I could remember what it was called, because I could probably find it online somewhere these days.

The two episodes I remember: one in which the pianist/singer rejects some guy who likes her, and then while she's onstage playing and singing something heartfelt and soulful he gets really drunk and--sitting in the front row--finds some bongos and starts playing along to her song, in a cringingly funny way; and the other in which the pianist/singer gets a phone call that she thinks is for her clown sideline, but is actually for her roommate who has secretly been working as an escort. She drives to a guy's house alone, her car breaks down, and she walks the last leg of the journey in her clown makeup, in the rain (of course). He opens the door, expecting a polished call girl, but gamely invites her in for (a seriously awkward) dinner anyway.

Bluck

Surgery done, glad to have it over with, luckily not much post-op pain. I haven't taken any of the pain meds. (Only the leg / back pain I already had pre-op for a completely different issue, so there you go.)

 

One of my sisters is visiting and playing with Limelet upstairs.  It's very nice to hear them laughing their guts out (image distortion software, I hear).

Dear Life,

...I take it back.  You know, when I jauntily, optimistically replied "surprise me!" to the question of what I wanted in life?  I take it back.  Stop with the surprises already!  I'm ready for some nice, predictable cause-and-effect.

Tired of Suspense, Awkward Travel

Dentist yesterday, leg x-ray today, innards ultrasound today.  TheLimey has to take time off work to ferry me around (can't drive w/broken leg) in addition to having to pick up and drop off Limelet which I used to do.  Cab costs $25 round trip, which is okay for maybe one trip.  Not several.

 

Dentist:  half of fillings done; the worst half.  Glad to finally have it over.  Originally called them in February--long, long wait, and also had to reschedule once.

 

Leg x-ray: thank heavens, looks like no surgery on ligaments (or indeed on leg overall) will be needed, and all that foot bruising is pretty normal. Got lesson in difference between tendons and ligaments (more elastin fibers in tendons, was it?)  Four weeks, then velcro type brace thing.  Wonder if I'll be able to drive then?  Allowed to hobble about without crutches a little bit in the house.  Good, because I was already.

 

Ultrasound:  the genius schedulers scheduled me for the ultrasound, but not for someone to take 10 minutes to look at it afterwards nor to tell me what the results are.  Now I have to go in again tomorrow morning, more Limey worktime eroded as well as yet another medicalized frikkin' day in the week for all three of us.  I saw some scary words on the ultrasound that the tech was unable to discuss with me (as always), but Google says that it will probably be alright.  Still no idea whether I'll need a surgery for the original issue for that particular innard, though, which the appointment tomorrow will provide. Theoretically.

 

Played online in a daze after appointments instead of hobbling about in the kitchen, making dinner.  Uh-oh.

 

Discovered there's already something called a Filthy Martini so we'll have to come up with another name for our invention.  Grubby Martini?  I doubt there's a Coke-a-rita, though.  Well, maybe.

Write Something Against Victim Blaming

From Jezebel:

 

"A Connecticut Marriott, which is being sued by a woman who was raped in front of her children in its parking garage, is claiming she "failed to exercise due care for her own safety and the safety of her children."

The Stamford Marriott Hotel & Spa, and the firms that manage the hotel and parking garage, have filed court documents arguing that the hotel is not responsible for damages even though the woman was raped on the premises because she was careless, negligent, and didn't exercise "proper use of her senses and facilities,"

... as she was loading her two children under the age of seven into their car seats in the back of her minivan. He stuck a gun in her back and she told him to take her wallet, but he demanded that she take off her clothes. He raped her and pointed a gun at one of the children and threatened to sexually assault one of them too. When another car pulled up she screamed and Fricker fled. ...

...It would seem the decent thing to do (and the smarter public relations move) would have been for Marriott to cooperate with the woman from the start or pay her the $15,000. The defense could have just argued that no one but Fricker was responsible for the crime, but instead the hotel management is blaming the victim for endangering herself and her children..."

 

(She only asked $15,000!)

 

This seemed like an easy one to do something about.  Here's what I wrote on the hotel's online contact form.  Probably you could come up with something better.

 

"Dear Hotel Personnel,

 

I recently read about the case regarding the woman who was raped at gunpoint in the parking structure in front of her children. I'm certain you know to what I am referring.

 

I am horrified to learn that the hotel's response was that it was her own fault. Such victim-blaming is FAR worse publicity than simply paying the damages she requested.

After all, most women already know that no place is going to be 100% free from risk of possible sexual assault, no matter how "secure." (We just ask that you try to reduce it with security measures.) The hotel's insensitive response, however, is very attention-getting in a negative way.

 

Better luck next time with whoever makes your publicity decisions. I hope they remember what percentage of household financial decisions women make.

[doctorlizardo], Ph.D."

Kinda Bitter

Three months ago: I can't wait until May 31st so this postdoc will be done! Then I can actually have a summer for once in my life. I'll take June off before getting back to work one way or another. Explore the town, finally, get the household in order, get our finances in order, start getting my self back again after everything that's happened in the past four years. Or eight years, maybe. Figure out what I'm going to do. Study for the EPPP.

Two and a half months ago: Dang, Limelet's week-long horrible illness has delayed the end of my job for a week. Dang, the amount of work I have remaining has delayed it another week. Still, there's half of June left. And now I'm pregnant! Well, at least now I know the time limit for my studying, and everything else.

Six weeks ago: I can't believe that the year I just spent working didn't count towards my licensure. Can't believe it. Must find another year's worth of work with licensed supervision for low pay. And I'm so exhausted with pregnancy, as well as this damn cough. And the place is a wreck. It's hard being so lonely and not knowing anyone, and not having the energy to get myself out there. At least we're getting a baby out of it. I can figure out what to do, career-wise, after the baby.

One week ago: Wow, I'm feeling so much better! I can begin to get going on stuff. This is great.

Six days ago: I can't believe I'm losing the baby. To help myself heal, I'll plan to get my environment in order, work on taking care of myself, getting myself back in shape, start getting out in town and getting to know some people. Doing things. I'll try to enjoy the summer here for next few weeks. Figure out where we go from here.

Five days ago: I can't believe my ankle is broken and I have to be in this cast for the next six weeks. So, five weeks of illness from pregnancy and bronchitis, one week of trauma, and six weeks of being in a cast. That's pretty much the twelve weeks of summer.

I know there's always something worse that could happen, and I know people who've had worse things happen to them. Nevertheless I'm feeling pretty angry right now as well as sorry for myself. I've always been able to blame something bad happening on a particular person (often myself). But this: this seems completely pointless. Dammit. I don't ever want to say that I'm feeling good again. It seems like this is always what happens, only this has been even more extreme than ever before. What the hell is the deal?

What's Old [Is Still Old]

I do have a lot I need to do, even with this cast on and limited mobility. Yet I have found the time to search for an old TV show that had only four episodes, I think*. One of those that I liked so it had to be canceled.

I don't know if I will be allowed to watch more than one episode on this site, or whether this embedding thing works. Or why I'd even want to embed it! Just for the heck of it, I guess. But here goes.

....

Nope, didn't work. But at least I got to see the pilot. Maybe I'll be able to watch more later, after some other, more crucial activities.


*Okay, so it was actually five, plus the pilot. Close. I think I missed one at the time; probably studying or some dumb thing like that.

Duh.

Finally made the connection that the nasty cough I had for 4+ weeks was bronchitis.  The clue was the low-grade fever they found when I was at my prenatal appointment.  I should have figured it out sooner as I have had bronchitis many times, but in the past it's always been associated with flu and ending up in the E.R., so I didn't recognize it.  Also, having been sick constantly this past year, I have develped a high tolerance for feeling crappy and thinking it's normal.  Also, I attributed a lot of my general ickiness to pregnancy, which maybe wasn't the entire reason.

 

Since I developed a throat infection the last day of work that lasted quite a while, I guess this means I have been sick 5-1/2 weeks of the 6 weeks since I haven't been working.  Man, am I feeling relieved to be less cough-y.  I can even speak pretty normally (for me) now, although I won't be doing any recording any time soon.  Stupid lung infections.

 

Did you know that bronchitis is associated with depression?  I knew that illness in general was likely to contribute to depression, but I didn't know about the specific bronchitis connection.  Makes sense though.  It's so damn draining to have one's lungs operating poorly.

 

I feel a lot perkier now. Now, must go eat an entire animal of some kind.  (Sorry Eph, Martha, some other sisters, Dad, and some cousins.)

Odd

At my prenatal appointment today, all measurements were pretty much as they normally are or at least as I expected them to be, except that my temperature was 100.5 degrees.  Weird, 'cause I don't feel at all sick.

Requirements...

Received a letter this morning from my graduate Uni, which made my heart (or perhaps my stomach) drop. Heaven knows what surprise flaming hoop could be thrown up next in this crazy academic circus. However, it was simply a brief message from the registrar verifying that "as regards your application for graduation, ALL YOUR REQUIREMENTS HAVE BEEN MET." Or words to that effect. Such a deceptively simple message; such a long, long and rocky road to get to it. I've been doing this for fifteen years. And unlike many who start school in undergrad and then decide later to go to grad school, I started with the PhD in mind, so I've been pushing and pushing and pushing towards this one goal for fifteen years solid. Since my mid-twenties, and I'm in my forties now!

They'll send the diploma six weeks after summer semester is over, which is I don't know the heck when, but probably at the end of July. So maybe mid-September? (Why six weeks? That seems like a heck of a long time for a piece of paper, which is already approved months earlier.)

Anyway, whew.

Just Regrouping

TheLimey can have a beer while coping with this event, but I must stick with (decaf!) tea. Dangit.

I am working on processing my feelings of disappointment and disorientation, and also on pulling some positive things out of this ("reframing").

1. We (as a family) did get a number of important things out of my taking that position, even if licensure hours (supposedly the main point) were not one of them.
For example, we wanted to move to this state and even to this town, and that happened because of the job. We even got some moving expenses paid. We live in a very nice neighborhood because of where I was working. TheLimey now has a great job that he can walk to. Limelet is in a very nice day care, very nearby, for which we were given preferential place because I was at that job.
I have made connections in town that can help to find future positions and resources. I did get paid for the time and even had some good health insurance that we used a lot; it's not like I worked for free (although, granted, postdoc pay is definitely not the same as "real" pay.) It will be much easier for me to look for work here while living here than in Michigan.

2. I was awake a lot in the middle of the night last night, and this thought occurred to me. I have been dismally picturing having gotten, say, 10 of the requisite 12 months of supervised work, if I had only known to arrange things differently. However, when I think back, my original draft was not in fact returned to me for edits until (I believe) late November. That being the case, if I had really jumped on those edits immediately I might have perhaps squeaked into a December graduation.
Thus the months that would have "counted" for licensure would have been January through May -- only 5 months. I still would have had to come up with another 7 months of supervised work somehow. Losing 5 months is less painful than losing 10 months, I'll tell you that.
7 more months means that I still would have been unlikely (to say the least) to have completed my hours and taken the EPPP before the baby comes. True, 5 months is 5 months. But it's not 10, is all I'm sayin'.

The Big Catch, Apparently

I was too busy with my busy-busy postdoc position to finish those few teensy edits on my approved dissertation, which I thought had been signed off on by the grad school. 

However--pending verification by my department head--it would appear that the sign-off by the grad school has not actually occurred until just now, when I finally had enough time to complete those edits, because my postdoc position is done. 

What does this mean?  It means this past year was actually not technically "post doc" and did not count towards licensure if I didn't have that sign-off done.  So, the postdoc sort of prevented my finishing the doc*.  Almost like I went back in time to sabotage myself!

 

 

*Yeah, I did read the fine print.  And apparently misinterpreted it.  If I'd understood the process more clearly, I'd have taken a couple weekends in October to work on it and finish.

Old School

Now that's a good shirt.

Stuff V - This Time, It's Personal

Yes, actually personal. It's really too early to talk about this, but it colors my life / our lives so much it's hard to avoid. We're expecting another baby in February, if all goes well.

My physical sense is that things are in fact going well so far, but at my age there is that 50/50 chance of miscarriage. Nevertheless, I believe that includes those really early miscarriages that people often don't even know they experienced. My mother and TheLimey's mother both had their last child at age 42, and it looks as though I will do that as well. All the baby stuff that I carefully saved and packed away from our first one? Still packed away, and in storage in Michigan. We won't be getting it out any time soon, either, so...crud.

We've had....discussions...about exactly what the expectation was when we packed all our things, with my understanding being that we would probably be getting it when we moved out of state, or maybe up to a year later (which would be now). His understanding was that we would never, ever get it back out. (Especially not my VHS tapes and cheap paperbacks collection.) Or at least not until we buy our own house, which could be several years. If I had thought it would be that long, there are a number of things I would definitely not have packed away. The cloth diapers and the Bebe Pod seat are the ones I most regret having to replace (although I also still feel pretty upset when I think of the only copy of my band's one video [on VHS, of course] weathering several broiling hot summers and freezing winters in an outdoor storage bin. Urrgh!)
Anyway!

TheLimey visits a hairdresser down the block who is American and also has an English husband, with a couple of young children. Yesterday he told her our news and it turns out that they are also expecting, maybe a month before us. So I will have someone to commiserate with this time. She has a very outgoing personality, which is completely different from mine, but nonetheless. Commiserate.

At any rate, TheLimey will be taking the husband to see Crystal Palace play a local team next month. I must find some mini Union Jacks for them to wave, or some such.
Meanwhile, now that I am done with that demanding postdoc, I am trying to get all my edits/graduation/licensure exam/licensure hours stuff done...hopefully before the baby comes out. 'Cause it sure ain't happenin' afterwards!

I expect that next year will be another year in which my focus is pretty much baby oriented. I've discovered that this is not because new parents have some sort of hormonal shift or stupid selfishness activation to only think about baby things, but because infant care is so intense and relentless, there isn't time or energy to even think about anything else. Anything!

Stuff IV

At night in bed I compose long rambling blog entries in my head, but they're usually gone by morning. Like now.

For Father's Day TheLimey received (basically) snacks, but ones that aren't widely available here. Twiglets, Marmite, the bizarrely misogynist Yorkie Bar, and something else I've already forgotten. Limelet and I managed to get to Britain's Best* only minutes before closing time, but it was enough time to grab what we needed. And in Limelet's case, to also grab a bunch of other stuff that I had to put back.

Limelet, of course, became instantly addicted to Twiglets, just like his parents. I actually was allowed a piece of the Yorkie Bar. Maybe it was a mistake.

*Apparently what is best about Britain is snack food, tea, porcelain trinkets, little flags, and smarmy celtic CDs.
**Unless that's a contraction instead of a possessive. Then the shop is proclaiming the superiority of the UK.

Canon Scanner and Vista

Unable to select twain source error message, how I hate thee.

If you're reading this, you either already know me and will be bored, or you're someone who is desperately searching for the same solutions I was searching for. You've probably already found the same forums and discussions I found, as well as the official Canon site where you can get some drivers and so forth. So this may not offer anything new (or good), except the understanding that I gained.

My husband (TheLimey) and I spent a cumulative 12 hours (6 each!) or so trying to find a way to get my beloved, beloved Canon Lide 35 scanner to work with our new laptop, which is running Vista (64-bit).

To get to the nub of the matter, it can't work. Canon has downloadable drivers that will work for my Lide 35 with 32-bit Vista. It has drivers that will work for 64-bit Vista with the Lides above 35. But no drivers that will work for the Lide 20 or 35 with 64-bit Vista. Dammit.

Even an emulator (virtual machine) won't work, because it's the hardware, not the software. Supposedly there is a guy out there who got the drivers for the Lide 60 to work with his 35, but I'm suspicious after all our research. (We certainly couldn't get that to fly.)

If only Canon would just write a new driver for use with 64-bit Vista, then everything would work fine! But they probably want me to buy something new instead. Forget it.

My husband initially said that he'd be willing to wipe everything and install the ol' XP, but he later reneged, citing its 32-bit-ness and how it will halve our resources (memory) to use it. Instead, we'll be installing XP on our old "backup" desktop and (hopefully) using that for the scanner base. We just have to get an old monitor somewheres.

Oh, and in case you're appending that path in your environment variables and are wondering--as I did--what's the difference between WINNT and Windows, WINNT is just an older-school variable for the same thing. Try both.

Pay less for luxury and qualitative watches.

Oh, if only I could actually find a qualitative watch. 

 

It wouldn't tell what time it is, but rather how things are going, generally speaking.

 

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Ahmad Brunson

Date: Sat, Jun 13, 2009 at 12:38 PM
Subject: Pay less for luxury and qualitative watches.

Our watches are as precious as the brand ones but they have a huge advantage – affordable prices for everybody. Who could think that it is possible to buy Dolce & Gabbana watch only for $219?

Waving, Not Drowning

I will post again when this job is over.  I promise.  The end (allegedly May 31) just keeps getting delayed by one ridiculous thing after another.

Literature Map

Dang, this is cool .  I found it accidentally while looking for some information about Sheri S. Tepper, but I imagine you could put your own favorite authors in.  (There are also some entries for "Sherri".)

Work

Some aspire to a three-day weekend.  I don't.  I aspire to a three-day week.

Lost Fossils

When I was little, maybe 6 or so, I was taking a walk with my mother's younger sister out in the Illinois farmland where she lived at that time.  She found a tiny fossil in the gravel of the road that she gave me.  It looked pretty much like a 1-inch corn-on-the-cob, but made of rock.  It was perfect; no nicks or chips or anything.  I h ave no idea what it was.  Some kind of trilobite that wasn't flat? I kept it for years. I think the last time I saw it was in the metal box where I kept my coin collection.  I didn't have that many material possessions, but many of them were ruined or disappeared during the year I was overseas as an exchange student in high school.  I wish I knew what that little fossil was, and I wish I could find it.  If I knew what it was, maybe I could buy another one on eBay or something.

I also still mourn the loss of my "real" birth certificate--the one with my little feetprints on it.  My mother kept it for me, of course, and I saw it several times growing up, but items pertaining to her and to me were thrown out and destroyed by her husband after she died, with no chance for me to get to them.  I am grateful for a few childhood photos that were sneaked out to me by family members, however.  Yet I'd like to compare my feetprints to my son's.  And I'd just like to have the certificate, anyway!  Just knowing that it was there, saved for me, so precious to my memory, and someone knowingly tossed it away--it's maddening.  I get really infuriated if I allow myself to think about it too long.

Getting Thanks

A client I had seen over the past semester dropped off a thank-you card for me today.  For various reasons, it's not really ethical to accept gifts (in most cases), but a card is okay to accept. It's usually people who do a lot of work on themselves anyway who do something like this, and this client was no exception.   Nevertheless, it was nice to hear that the person felt that I had helped them learn to deal with things on their own.  That's my goal, of course--making myself obsolete in strangers' lives.

Happy May Day

Splash of Spring - 1st May 2006
Originally uploaded by l'enfer

I wish these were in my yard.

(Maybe next year they will be, if I plan fall planting right.)

Swine Flu Map Roundup

I had a hard time finding this by directly searching, so here it is . 

I already had a flu phobia b/c of my asthma and the times flu's landed me in the ER; now everyone else does, too. Great.

*********

Oh, wait.  Here's another one.  Now that I think of it, there'll probably be a ton.

*********

And another.

Had enough yet?

Even More Random Stuff When I Should Be Writing Case Notes

Recently a friend posted in Facebook the query as to what others would do if they were given $50,000 and a year off work.  (I said: Research and margaritas.)  

And completely unrelatedly, I am currently reading The Multiplex Man.  The book's premise is a technology that can "implant" knowledge or skills from one person to another, which is (of course) being used by the military to create the perfect assassin.  He gets the wisdom of various individuals practiced in their skills for a lifetime.  I have been thinking about what I would want implanted (and it turned out that the assassin got a good number of the things I wanted, interestingly.)  

My list includes languages (German, Italian, French, Chinese, heck--Sanskrit and Russian, too--why not?); survival and traditional skills (woodcraft, plant identification, farming, fishing, weaving and sewing, carpentry, smithing, food preparation and preservation); athletics (swimming and diving, gymnastics, yoga, various martial arts, climbing, riding); shop skills (electronics, welding, motor repair); medical (assessment and treatment, medications, surgery) ...really, I can't stop thinking of things I'd want and just don't have enough lifetimes to learn them in.  Or in some cases, reasons to use them, unless society collapses, which honestly I've been imagining happening since my teen years.

I also think it'd be useful to extract the skills of a woman who'd given prepared childbirth birth several times under various circumstances.  Or breastfed several children etc.  Or somebody who'd memorized pi to a whole lot of digits...no, wait.  Maybe somebody who had photographic memory of something useful, like aquifer maps, or whatever you will.

So what would your response be to the time and money question, or else your most-wanted skills?  (And wouldn't it be cool to have all of that at once?)

Medical Humor

An article about medical humor , with one especially bad pun at the end that I loved.

Almost Out

We are in the new place, and now so is (nearly) all our stuff.  We haven't done the cleaning of the old place yet, but will do it next weekend. 

Did I mention that I initially moved us by stealth last weekend?  Not everything, but the necessary things to tide us over at the new place, such as beds, some kitchen things, bathroom things, and most of our clothing.  I did this because I really, really wanted to be at the new place and moving stuff in with us, rather than at the old place and moving stuff out before us.  Also the old place was starting to really depress me after the break-in, and since I'd been emotionally detaching before that anyway.  I moved the stuff myself because TheLimey was worn out with transitions and doing all the heavy lifting, and simply wasn't up to moving that weekend.  I decided that if I wanted us over there, it was up to me.

The crux of the move was the mattress AKA our bed, which gave two grown men great trouble to move it up the stairs at our old place (because of weight, bulk, and width--it's a queen--or is that redundant? Well, it deserves redundancy as it is really big, large, huge, massive, and also heavy).  I knew if I could get that darn thing down the stairs, then I could do all the rest and the move was on.  I had Friday off and didn't mention that or the moving part.

I struggled with getting it down the stairs and had to crawl all over  and under it, moving a corner here and bending a section there and dragging that side and so forth, until it was downstairs. Then a neighbor saw me doggedly tugging it towards the car and helped me hoist it on top.  I coulda done it, but it was a lot faster with help, I admit.  He was actually the neighbor who had helped to get it upstairs last fall, and wondered how on earth I managed to get it out all by myself.  "I'm a very determined person," I answered.

I got the smaller mattress down myself, tied them to the car with rope, and took them to the new place.  Again luckily, a neighbor helped me get the big one up the porch stairs, but I did all the rest myself.  I then went back and forth getting the essentials, including the giant heavy TV and microwave.  I also put in changes of address for us at the post office.  I picked up TheLimey after work and revealed what I had done, and he was flabbergasted.  He was pretty much speechless for a really long time, maybe 15 or 20 minutes, trying to picture me moving the things I had on my own.  The word "insane" kept coming up for some reason, when he was able to speak.  Well, whatever makes it believable for you, dear.

So we've been living at the new place since then--thank goodness.  Moving is hard, but it's worse when stuff is disappearing slowly and then you have to move yourself and your essentials in one day into a place with piles of stuff waiting.  Hmmm...now that I think of it, we're still dealing with the piles of stuff hiding our essentials to some extent, but I maintain that it's better regardless.  We had TP, shampoo, mugs, diapers, clean sheets on a made bed, and a can opener from the get-go.

Limelet likes the new place, especially the back yard, but he did ask to "go home" several evenings.  I'd started calling it the "old home" a while ago to get that term in place, as opposed to the "new house" in which we now reside.  We've taken him back to the "old home" a couple times so he could see it emptying and say goodbye to it in his way.  The first time he was sad (I think it was a shock seeing all our stuff gone), but the next time he seemed fine with it.

I did feel sad going to the old place Sunday.  Poor lonely and empty house.  Now that the shock of the break-in is over I can be melancholy, as I always am, about moving. There was one forlorn squirrel there that looked at me sadly from the back yard.  Luckily I had left a handful of peanuts in the cabinet for this return trip, so I was able to gratify his/her pitiful look by tossing some peanuts out there. I'll miss watching the full moon rise through the living room windows and the tall pine, and I remember Limelet's great joy at finally having more than 6 square feet in which to run back and forth.  

I planted vegetable plants at the new place this weekend with Limelet, which was fun despite his frequent treading on the onions and basil.  I really love the new place and the new yard.  The inside is absolute chaos with stuff everywhere, as we have not put things in their new homes yet, but that will come.

Jacked. So to Speak.

Last weekend was great.  No one was sick, we all got good sleep, we didn't get any scary information from daycare implying our child has brain damage, we had our lease signed and set for our new place to live, and the weather was nice.  We actually went out to the park on Sunday afternoon like a normal family!  It was great.  We couldn't get over how awesome it was to just have a weekend with no drama or trauma for once.  One nice weekend since we've been here!  

I wondered if we were jinxing ourselves by talking about it out loud, and apparently we were.

I got home yesterday with a struggling child under one arm and a pile of coats and bags under the other, only to discover that our front door was wide open.  Further inspection showed that our back door was also wide open, as well as our garden gate.  After several hours of waiting around for campus security and then police to go in with guns drawn and secure the premises (as they say), we learned that--indeed--our laptops had been stolen, as well as TheLimey's toolbox (which was in the office, too.)  

The adjacent neighbor (it's a duplex, or some other name like that) actually saw the guy with the toolbox and asked what he was doing--"Just picking up some stuff."  Picking up indeed.  Maintenance is kind of casual around here, so he thought the guy was maintenance.  I kind of think that if the neighbor hadn't challenged him, he might have gone back inside again.  We theorize he made two trips because of the muddy bootprints on the carpet near the back. I'm writing on my work computer now, of course.

We were finally getting our affairs in order, moving from "desperate" through "urgent" and finally getting to "basic and important"--really for the first time since we'd gotten married.  

One of the things we finally did was to get the new drive ordered for....my laptop. So we could rebuild it in preparation for my using it to work on this summer.  I spent weeks and weeks waiting for that drive earlier this year, but this time it shipped the day we ordered it.  Pretty ironic that it will likely arrive today, the day after the laptop  was stolen, since we've been trying to do this rebuild for THREE YEARS!  Conveniently, I had gathered all the software (and the paperwork from my computer) together and clipped it with an office clip, and set it on our desk next to my laptop.  Because there it isn't, any more.  I hope that possibly Dell may have a record of what the serial number is, which I will go to see about in a minute.

One good thing about that, though, is that I backed up all my stuff to Dropbox.  Thank heavens.  Because I have exactly two more lines to edit on my dissertation before it's accepted for binding, as of last Friday. After that I can apply for graduation. Also because I realized this morning that Dropbox will tell me the last IP address where my computer was used online, as well as when.  Unfortunately I would have to delete all my files for another user to not be able to access them, which means that then I can't access them.  However, I have a feeling that whoever has it is probably not going to dig past my password into my files, but will simply wipe it for their own smug stolen-goods sales use.

If Huge Ships Are a Problem for You...

..then I recommend you read this NYT article to see where you can get information on avoiding them.  As well as other really odd books.  Although this year's winner is someone I've read about before, and I think his works shouldn't count!

Bipolar Weekend

Not in the clinical sense, just had lows and highs, though I believe the highs won out overall.  

Limelet was up for two hours in the middle of the night again on Saturday after having a pretty good night Friday, so Sunday I was exhausted and really looking forward to taking his nap with him midday.  We had a 2:30 app't to sign our lease, so I had to make sure that he got up in the morning early enough to be sleepy for an early-ish (or at least not late) nap, and I did get him up on time.  It worked--to a point.  He fell asleep on the porch in my arms pretty early (before I could even get his lunch in him), and I took him upstairs to bed.  However, he woke up as soon as he hit the bed, and despite nursie and everything did NOT go back to sleep.  I tried repeatedly, but he just was not doin' it.  Which is weird, because he usually takes his midday nap quite easily.  

So at that point I was miserable.  Not just the lack of sleep from the night before, but cumulatively.  I so desperately wanted to sleep.  Just a little!  I was so tired it hurt.  And we had that meeting to go to, that I had so carefully planned the day around. I was actually crying by two hours later.

Luckily, the lease meeting went well, though TheLimey showed great faith in my character by asking [for verity of storytelling read in mock-dopey voice] "You're not going to break down in front of them or something, are you?"  Now, has he not been at all watching me function under these conditions for the past three years?  Anyway.  The house was even better than we remembered it being, and the yard even larger.  The landlord & -lady both showed up for the signing.  Did I mention there's a peach tree and an apple tree?  And the supposedly double lot is more like a triple lot?  And the little fish pond actually still has some fish in it that apparently survived the winter?  And it has four bedrooms (!?), and is even closer to Limelet's favorite on-campus playground and to my current work? We were pinching ourselves (metaphorically, anyway) at having gotten this great place, for so much lower than most places in the area.  It was cheaper than a couple pretty crappy, tiny places we originally looked at.  We have been experiencing the opposite of buyer's remorse, if there's a name for that.  True, we will be paying two months' overlapping rent, but it's still a cheaper year, and definitely cheaper over two years or three.  The guy mentioned that there were a lot of disappointed people that day (apparently from his vast stack of applicants.)  

We lucked out with this one.  I wonder how much the "Dr." on my business card helped, though.  I bet my 22-year-old self wouldn't have been as much competition.

So anyway--we hung out there for a while letting Limelet play in the yard (overfeeding the fish, of course) and gawking at our various rooms.  It did improve my mood greatly.  I just start completely losing control of my emotions when I'm that tired, but outside events help.  We went home at 5 (still no sleepy Limelet) and TheLimey took Limelet to the back yard, directing me to take a nap.  

I thought if I could just get half an hour's sleep it would save me.  At first I had trouble falling asleep because I could hear Limelet crying for me, but then things quieted down.  When I woke up I was shocked to find it was already 7:30!  TheLimey brought a sleeping Limelet in to the bedroom.  We both thought he'd wake up when put down, but he stayed asleep.  Then we thought he'd wake up at 8 and be awake until 2 or 3.  In fact, he stayed asleep (with minimal help) until 6 this morning.  Amazing!  We actually watched 40 minutes or so of our Dr. Who Netflic that's been gathering dust for the past few weeks.  I was able to get about 6 hours of sleep in a row, which is not a record (he slept for 6 hours once before), but pretty close to it.

We'd like to think we could do this again, but I'm sure it was a one-off.  I still feel fried, but a lot better.

New'ome

As I may have mentioned, we have been looking for a new place to live.  We love the place we're in, but it's college-subsidized and we can't live in it after our lease is up because I will no longer be employed full-time with the college.  Boo.

I think we may have started looking too early, because all the places we have seen want someone to move in on April 1st.  Our lease is up on May 31st, so that means we'd be paying rent in two places for two months.  That's quite a bit of overlap.

We've had a couple places we were interested in, and today we just got word that the landlord of a place we were very interested in accepted our application (above the "pile" of apps he got).  I'm not surprised, because it was a really reasonable rent for the size of the place and the location--which incidentally is a really great location for us. It's right near the college, in close walking distance to TheLimey's work and to Limelet's favorite familiar on-campus playground and possible part-time work for me (if I play my cards right, I guess). The only bad thing that I can see about it is that it's one of the places that wants us to start our lease April 1, so now we have to hunker down and make a firm decision if we really want to do this.

If we stay two years or more, which is our plan anyway, we would end up saving money because of the low rent ($300 less per month than most similar places, or even smaller places!), but there's that initial outlay of paying double rent for two months.

The place has a front porch, and a great back yard, especially for the area, which has mostly those long, thin little yards.  This one has that, but then at the back of it, it has a huge yard joining onto our little thin one, like a mini-park.  With trees and presumably squirrels. Ooh--I'm envisioning toddler splash parties already, now that I think of it...  And the back is South-facing, so the kitchen (with gas range!!) would be facing the sun all day long (though there is a covered patio behind it).  There are about twice as many rooms as we need, certainly more than most places we looked at, partly because the attic is finished.  The only lackluster aspect is probably the bathroom, which is small and unprepossessing.

So--decision time then.  I think we are, or at least I am, leaning towards a yes. But we are supposed to sign a lease Sunday, so that'll be the deadline.

Opening Time on Procrastination Street

I have tons (tons!) of clinical notes to write over this week, as we don't get time to actually write them during the semester.  No, really, that's how it works here.  Too bad that the 5 days of paperwork time I was expecting over break are down to 1.5, due to a college-closed day as well as Limelet's getting yet another illness this week.  So here I am procrastinating instead of working! 

But we did have a record two weekends in a row with no sickness!!  Really, that is a record since we got here and started all getting sick, all the time. (In fact, I'm sick again now, but hardly even count it since it's just a cold.)  We took advantage of it by having our next-door neighbors over for dinner.  They have a three-month-old little girl, which is another reason why we have been avoiding them.  When we're constantly sick over here, we don't want to pass it on to the little tiny one.  The mother is on an allergy-restricted diet (for the baby), so I think she was discouraged about the possibility of coming over to eat.  But I took down her list of allowed items (about 20 of them) and came up with some experimental things.  I know it is really hard to be inspired to eat when you can't have milk, wheat, corn, soy--in fact any grains at all besides rice, tomatoes, citrus, yeast, fish, onions, meat (besides chicken), spices (even pepper)...the list went on.  It really was easier to get the list of items she could eat.  I made a lot of stuff with rice milk and rice flour, chicken, and a couple of fruits she was allowed, olive oil--and I assumed olives were therefore also allowed (meaning I could make tapenade).  I think this was the first time we've had people over for dinner in about two years.

We are in the midst of a (rental) house search, but I think we may have actually started too early, as a common conflict has ended up being that they want someone to move in April 1st, while our current lease isn't over until May 31st.  That's a big overlap to pay rent at two places for two months.

I keep thinking of stuff to write but am currently experiencing great fuzzyheadedness.

'50s Lady?

...where are you? The dangers of sharing too many items on Google Reader. I can't remember when I shared it, but it was sometime since September. This was a little video featuring how our lives would soon be better through consumerism (plastic perhaps?) and it had elevator music under (or over?) a montage of wifely type duties. There was also a curiously quiet baby in a cage. Er, playpen. If you remember this or still have the link, let me know. People are asking.

Update: here it is!

Da*@#light Savings

Here comes my twice-yearly ranting about Daylight Saving.  Made worse this year by having a toddler who is now already behind an hour due to weeks and weeks of illness.  Here, I'll let someone else rant for a change .  

My idea?  Just make sunrise in each time zone the new 6:00 am every day.  That's right; reset all clocks every single day.  Now, we'd still have time zones so it'd be a little arbitrary, but, whatever.  At least it'd make sense biologically.  There's be lots of retail and manufacturing activity as people rushed to create and sell "one-push-reset" clocks and whatever paraphernalia would link us all to some service or other, for those who can't or won't see the sunrise themselves.

My other idea is to have "Fall Back" every week.  So you'd reset your clock back one hour every Saturday night.  Yeah, we'd be awake in the dark sometimes and sleeping in the day some times, but whatever.  At least it would follow our circadian clocks (generally speaking.)

Job Opportunities!

Boy, if that won't get me spammed, I don't know what will.  (Nevertheless, I still don't need that blasted "prove you're human" password thing, >a-HEM<, all-yall.)

Anyway.  According to my RSS feed jobs section, if only I were a bilingual, pediatric, alcohol-and-drug residential counselor for prison/V.A./schools, I'd be able to find a full-time job every minute of every day.

Diagnosis: Not Murder, Just Feels Like It

I'm feeling particularly proud of myself today, in a professional kind of way.

I have a patient* who was referred by a health professional a few months ago for frequent intense nausea and occasional vomiting.  They couldn't figure out any treatment other than pretty heavy sedatives (in my opinion), and thought psychological factors could be an issue.

I discovered in my interviews that she had a family history of migraine, so I wondered if this might be some kind of atypical migraine.  Upon discussion with the physician, we couldn't find anything that exactly matched the patient's symptom profile.  However, the physician did take my recommendation and he began prescribing migraine meds for the patient.  They work pretty well when she takes them, so that part is good.  

And then just yesterday, when I was researching some narcolepsy issues for another patient, somehow I came across this syndrome.  That's totally it!  I'll tell you what, you are glad you don't have this.  The interesting thing is, the syndrome profile is just as I "conceptualized" it (improper English, but proper jargon).  Also, even some weird little aspects that the patient said that seemed like they wouldn't really be related, are discussed, such as weather.

So basically, it validates both my conceptualization and treatment and the patient's experience.  It doesn't change the treatment,  but it may make it easier for her to accept it, now that there's a name for it (including treatment focusing on managing anxiety, which no one likes to hear when they have physical symptoms).  Oh, and it also  means that I figured out the diagnosis of something that baffled the physicians.

It even comes with support groups and a website that shows medical trials going on all over the world that is searchable by disorder and by location (the maps tab is pretty darn cool).  I don't think they're doing any near her for this patient, but still, it's pretty cool.  Even though it is mostly corporate and probably eevyil, as far as I can tell.

*Important aspects of this case are made vague and changed to protect confidentiality.  However, the diagnosis is real.

Romance (?)

So I tried reading my first romance novel* in over 20 years.  (The last time was when I was 18 and in another country, and was desperate for something--anything!  In English.)  

I read it (what parts I did read) sitting up holding Limelet through the night so he could sleep (ear infection).  It sounded like it would be an interesting, albeit superfluffy and escapist--kind of thing to read.  International travel! Ghosts! Swords!  Semi-ruined castles!  Sex! Jewelry making!  But the "plot" reminded me of the time I was sick at home for a week and watched some daytime TV.  There was so little going on, and what was going on was so predictable, that I had to skip large sections just to get to the end of it.  The parts that weren't predictable were pretty much silly.   

And the very ending was really conservative (as I'm guessing most romance novels are) in that what started with ghosts and enchantments ended in plain ol' marriage and pregnancy.  Wonder how that sexy ghost will be doing with that kid a year later, when they have to change diapers, be barfed on, get vaccinations and lose sleep.  He'll probably want to return to his 700-year ghostly roaming.

*If you must know, it was this book.

Employed!

TheLimey's job interview(s) went very well.  He is now among the employed again, although the lucky so-and-so gets (once again) to take some time off (perhaps a week or two) before starting. And this job is actually more what he wants than the one he got laid off from.

As for me I'm trying to finagle a possible tantalizing teaching opportunity for the summer.  I sure hope I can do it, because it would open a lot of doors.

Viral! And Grassroots.

My other blog has gone viral---at least, one page of it .  That's kinda cool.  (The only other page as popular has been the Poxford one, which gets regular referrals from discussion boards each day.)

And by viral I just mean a few hundred views per day, at the height of the craze (last Saturday.)  But for me, that's celebrity! Now new mothers all over the country are making sweatpants into inexpensive, comfy baby carriers, just as I planned!  Muuaaahahahahaha!  

Well, I do like grassroots movements of women helping each other, and whatnot, so that's gratifying.

Mythology and Psycho-Socio Culture of Mary Poppins (1964): plus a number of random questions

A client cancelled today, so instead of taking this hour to do the work that's been piling up, I'm going to do some play that's been piling up. In my head. Bugging me to write it out.


I'm sure there are tons of sites addressing Mary Poppins (the film) already, but having watched it about 20 times in the past few weeks (Limelet's new favorite), it's on my mind (especially when awakened during the night). I got a VHS copy at the Starvation Army for $1.99, and it turned out that Limelet loves it, loves it, loves it--especially all the dancing and singing. His absolute favorite part is the 8-minute rooftop dance by the chimney sweeps, which he imitates.

I had planned to FF over any parts that might be inappropriate for a toddler, but it didn't really have any. Well, I didn't like the scene with the boy in the closet, but Limelet didn't seem bothered by it. And you never know--Oklahoma had a lot of violence in it, for example, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks scared him to hysterical tears when the bed "magically" travelled by glowing weird colors). I was a pleasantly surprised that there was little to shield him from.

Anyway, being who I am, I can't help but find weird things about the movie to analyze. This may not be terrifically organized, as parts are still inchoate and I am still thinking about it. So, some immediate thoughts, and some more developed concepts. I haven't read the books (yet), so this only pertains to the film format of the story.

Mary and Bert: Interesting relationship there. What's going on? They know each other from before, but how? Are they dating? Were they dating? Apparently she shows up from time to time, from what they say to each other. There is a scene in which the characters jump through a chalk drawing on the sidewalk, and Mary and Bert take a walk separately from the children. This is the setting for their re-acquaintance via a song-and-dance passage (Jolly Holiday ).

Now, if you listen to the lyrics repeatedly (as I have been obliged to do), you may notice a strange imbalance in the theme of the lyrics they sing to each other. It's more noticeable if you're watching the movie than just reading the lyrics as text. Basically, Bert says "Mary's [third-person] pretty awesome, fun to be around, magical, exciting, and inspires affection in others, so it's like a holiday to spend time with her." Then Mary says, "Bert [second-person], you are more high-status than you appear, and unlike many men, not likely to sexually assault or even sexually pressure a woman, so it's like a holiday to spend time with you." Wow. That is a holiday indeed--not needing to fear your date! What kind of guys does she usually date?! What does this mean about the two guys (possibly brothers) who wrote that song? Was it just their family, or the way the '60s were? Just some thoughts as I watch that bit. Oh, and then after the song has Mary telling Bert that he is non-threatening, he comes back with a list of women with whom he has apparently also visited that penguin bistro--the penguins know who they are. Is he trying to retrieve some kind of stereotypical masculinity here? (If so, that goofy penguin dance doesn't help with any kind of dignity!)

In the scene with Uncle Albert, whose uncle is he, exactly? Mary's? Bert seems pretty familiar with him, too. They must know each other to some extent, I imagine through Mary. If she takes Bert around to see her uncle, then they must be somewhat serious, I'd think. (For 1910, anyway.) BTW, why does her uncle living in London have an American accent?

Speaking of accents, Dick Van Dyke's "cockney" accent here is atrocious, its silliness rivaled only by Keanu Reeves' accent in Dracula. Nevertheless, I have really grown to like DVD's portrayal of Bert.

So, the mythology part. First of all, in my analysis, Bert and Mary are not mere human beings anyway, which explains some thematic inconsistencies. Mary is easy. Now, I've often heard descriptions such as "the no-nonsense nanny." However, this is completely specious. Mary is the all-nonsense nanny. Her behavior is completely at odds with her "proper" appearance and speech. She is a trickster goddess, introducing (necessary) chaos into the too-rigid Banks household. Because although this story is ostensibly the story of the children, it is in fact the story of the redemption of Mr. Banks, told (more or less) from the viewpoint of his children.

Mary Poppins comes in on the East wind because western mythology exoticizes the East. (That's where the mysticism lives!) She stays only until the wind changes, but most importantly, until Mr. Banks changes. She talks to birds and animals, defies natural laws of all sorts (especially gravity), and (my favorite part), states most emphatically when asked to explain herself: "I want to make one thing very clear: I never explain anything!" You can think of Mary Poppins as a trickster character, or as an allegory for loosening up, creativity, and kindness. All especially appropriate for a 1964 film, right?

It also cracks me up that the super-punctual cannon firings of Admiral Boom ("the world takes its time from Greenwich, and Greenwich takes its time from Admiral Boom" or something like that: he symbolizes strict orderedness) next door are so disturbing to the household that its foundations and objects are rattled several times daily. Tellingly, only Mr. Banks seems oblivious to how this affects the household. The three women in the house run to and fro, trying to right everything that is repeatedly set askew by this over-scheduled destruction.

Now Bert, as Mary's supernatural consort, is even more intriguing to me than Mary herself. He is a limnal character, crossing boundaries with impunity. Near the beginning of the film, he even breaks the boundary between audience and film characters by speaking directly to "you" through the screen. Thereafter, he crosses social boundaries of class (interacting with all classes and ages and shaking hands with everyone to give them "luck"). He works at a different job daily, which for a "real" human character would be impractical. What low-income person of 1910 could actually afford the equipment to be a one-man band, chimney sweep, chestnut-seller, and skreever? Those are just jobs symbolic of Bert's multiplicity. He crosses boundaries of reality in creating and jumping through the pavement drawings: other worlds that he himself created. Granted, he gets Mary to "activate" them, as it were, but it looks to me like he's just cajoling her into joining the fun. I feel certain that he could have opened those portals himself, had he wanted to.

In fact, Bert is a gatekeeper. He even seems to have a "station" before the gates of the park (what is that park, anyway? Everyday adult existence, perhaps?) but is never seen entering it himself. He informs us at the beginning of the film about the cyclical nature of existence (something along the lines of, "Can't put my finger on what is in store, but what's to 'appen 'as 'appened before".) Bert exists everywhere, and nowhere: he exists between. When he tells the children about what's up the chimneys, it's very mysterious and fey (even the music):

'Tween pavement and stars

Is the chimney sweep world

When the's 'ardly no day  Nor 'ardly no night

There's things 'alf in shadow And 'alf way in light

That is to say, his rooftop Sweeps' World is a sort of Wood Between the Worlds (for the C.S.-Lewis inclined), a multiverse that simultaneously links and separates realities (households, SES classes, the pavement and the stars, etc.) Thematically, the rooftop world also appears to be a sort of inverted underworld. The children are sucked up the chimney not by literal, physical wind as explained, but because Bert has "put ideas into their heads." We don't see them eating pomegranate seeds on the roof, but we do see them eating apples in the chalk-drawing world. I think this has made them susceptible to being pulled out of the world again, and that the magical trips are a retelling of the Persephone / True Thomas type of myth. That rooftop sweeps' dance? I can't imagine a better enactment of a dance of underworld imps or a fairy ring dance. Bert is clearly their leader: he's the entity who calls the dance and leads it, and he is the one who ends it with a whistle. This puts him in the role of Hades, or the Fairy Queen. (The film therefore inverts the usual gender of the [female] fairy queen and [male] trickster).

Naturally, it is Admiral Boom who spots the dancers and fires at them (strict "order" attempting to subdue "chaos"). Interestingly, he believes them to be attacking "hottentots" (a racial slur, of course). Is it because they are happily and energetically dancing? Is it because they are White guys who are covered in soot (blackface)? Which says something about how society view(s/ed) order and chaos. Of course, the sweeps end up jumping down the chimney into the Banks household and stirring everything up (as it needed to be, for balance). They are sympathetic characters regardless. Upon leaving the house, they even dance with the reluctant constable in the street--the forces of chaos literally playing with law and order. (Hee!)

Anyone else want a shot? Go for it.

Monstrous

Can I just say*-- I am seriously annoyed with Monster.com.  

I wanted to edit my current resume to include where I have now worked for a year.  Sounds simple enough, and pretty important.  I never had any problems with Monster before (that is, from 2000-2008) and always found it relatively understandable and intuitive.

But now if I go to my resume, it gives me the option to edit every single section there except job experience.  Oh, I can click on an individual job experience and edit that, but I can't add any new ones or otherwise edit the section. Whereas all the other sections have a link to add more items. Just not the job experience section. Kind of an important one.

So I complain about it to my husband, and he says to try using Firefox (we use Safari at my office), because he had some possibly related problems the other day with Explorer which using Firefox solved.  I downloaded FF, and in some ways it was even worse (had to find a really roundabout way to even sign in).  However, I eventually got to the resume editing page, but no dice.  Same thing.  No way to add a work  experience.  This was true whether I  viewed it in profile view or in the resume view.

Clicking on "help" just brings up a pre-packaged crappy pop-up window of useless crap that tells you what kind of things you should put in each section, just in case you're a moron who probably shouldn't be applying for any jobs anyway.  No user help forums, no help-contact-us section, not even anything that says "Warning! Overload! Your checkered job history has led to too many job fields.  Delete some before you try to put any more in there."  

But I can't find that anyone else anywhere in Internetland is having a similar problem, so  maybe it's just me.  How hard is it to find a super-obvious link?  Not hard at all, unless it's not there.

*[rhetorical question--I know I can say]

8 Thoughts on Race, Sex, Babies, and Fertility

I have seen so much online discussion about the woman with the octuplets [or "octopluts" as I wanted to spell it for a few insane moments] that I figure my two cents won't change much in the dogpile.  I don't even really have a coherent argument of any sort.  Maybe I wish I did.  

1. I think there is an overindulgence in passing judgment on this woman (and I'm not not excluding myself here), to the extent that it seems pretty clear that she is not even seen as an individual ("wow! what a wacko! anyway, pass the cereal") but as a larger-than-life symbol of What-All's Wrong With This Society.

1. Having produced one kid myself, I think she is probably nuts for having 14.  Heck, I think I may be nuts for considering a second one myself!

2. Having produced a kid myself, I don't know how I would feel about having to "reduce" embryos.  I am pro-choice, but luckily for me have never been in a situation where I've been faced with that choice myself.

3. I read today that at least part of the backlash against this woman is because she is a woman of color.  (How can I have not known that until just now?)  Certainly this is likely to play into a lot of standard social-stereotypical fears.  Perhaps this explains the mythic (as opposed to individual) status she seems to embody for so many.  After all, giant White families are just plain humorous, right?

4. I can't help but feeling sympathetic to a lot of her motives, even as I read how she thinks this family will make up for her childhood of loneliness, or something along those lines.

5. I can't help but feeling some outrage at whoever thought that fertility treatments were okay for someone who already has produced 6 kids.  However,  we don't (yet) live in a society where the number of our children is limited, so who am I to decide what the number should be? Yeah, I think this is probably too much for her, or for most people even in ideal situations.  But what I'm saying is, I'm not the decider.  (As it were).  I don't get to make choices about someone else's body, except those of my own child, and even those are limited in some ways.

6.  It would be great, even ideal, if every child in the world could have two parents, but that's not the case. I also don't get to decide that for anyone else, and I don't even want to try.

7. Okay, now I'm going to go see some actual images.  I haven't seen many yet--mostly just text.

8.  Weird, she talks about "projecting my own wants and needs onto my child" like it's something she heard in therapy and then kind of misinterpreted as something kind of positive. She doesn't seem to be really hearing herself say it.   Of course, right after I gave birth to just one kid I was pretty mood-swingy, so who knows how she's feeling.  Also, I had to stop at the part where she said "I wanted to do the very best I could as an incubator for these babies..."

Well, I guess my overall reaction now is: Tempest in a teapot. This is not a fad, or even becoming worrisomely common.  I think the really interesting part is how we are reacting to this woman and to her situation.

Dear Paypal

Dear Paypal, 

I love you, but I know you use me.

For example, when I transfer money to you from my credit union on the 21st, it's gone from the CU the next day.  Like, immediately.  But you take 3-5 business days to register it.  Why is that?  I know that the electrons didn't disappear, nor do they move more slowly on weekends.  I have a strong suspicion that someone is making money on my money during that delay--if only through incremental bits of interest.  And I know it isn't me.

Anyway,I'm  just sayin'.  I'm going along with it, and I know everyone does it, but I'm no idiot.  I see what's happening.

Not That Impressed With Dell These Days

I am pretty unimpressed with Dell lately.  They used to be the go-to company.  Maybe they're getting too big to be responsive, or something.  

I have a laptop (it may be three years old, granted, but still is quite usable and I like it) that needs some serious cleaning out (i.e. we plan to reformat it), and also my burner needs to be replaced--sounds easy enough, right?

I ordered a new burner online and then looked through the packet of software and stuff that I got when I originally got the laptop.  There was no disk for Office, which didn't surprise me too much--TheLimey got his computer just a couple of months after I did, and his didn't come with the actual disk either.  He had to call them and order it.  

I think they may even do this as a matter of course now, since you can reformat and restore it to factory specs with the image.  But I should be able to get the actual software disk if I want it--I own the license, so give me a copy of my own software if I want one already!  I called them, and they refused to do so, stating that they only do this if a person calls within 30 days after receiving their order.  So that ticked me off pretty well.  I can't even get a disk of the software that I spent all that money on with them? Ludicrous.

Well, we decided that we'd go ahead and reformat it using the image method, and TheLimey could uninstall all the crat that I don't want, install necessary patches and updates, etc. But not before I get my new burner, because we want to make sure that we can back up my data and reinstall my other software that I need and so forth, before wiping everything out.  

Unfortunately, every week on the estimated shipping date, I've been getting an email telling me that my order has been delayed and it will now ship the following week.  And then that following week, I get another email, and then the next....etc.  So today I called them to see if I could get someone to tell me approximately when it might actually be shipped.  I need that laptop for my work, and need to make plans accordingly.

I spoke with six (6) different people, who all transferred me to other people, who then gave me phone numbers I had originally called.  (Seriously--I have them all written down.)  The last guy was not overtly rude, but he was pretty well verging on it.  Come on!  I just want someone to tell me if this is typical and how long I might realistically expect to wait, rather than telling me what I can already darn well see on my online account myself! : "the estimated ship date is January 30..."  Well, duh.  

I didn't need to talk to six (6) different people to know that.  People who all asked exactly the same questions and told me the exact same thing that I could already see for myself on my account.  The last guy finally told me essentially that he could not give me a date (which is not what I asked for), but they were trying to get all orders out as soon as possible (yes, I understand that) and as soon as one was available from the supplier, it would be sent to me (I get that, also).  That's not particularly useful, and I don't want to be condescended to, either.  I'm not trying to be a pain, I don't want to be treated like one, and I think I was about as polite as someone who's waiting week after week and has spoken to six people can be. I wonder how that guy would feel if his computer was in my computer's situation.

Finally, he insisted on getting my email address, which is bizarre because all my weekly delay notifications have come by email anyway.

Inauguracial

There is probably more about the inauguration out there already than any other internet topic in history (yes, including slash fanfic of Spock and Kirk), so I'll make it short.

I admit that I did shed tears while watching the inauguration, and I am really, really, super happy to have someone in the White House who could be legitimately pictured with a thought bubble over his head.  The historic aspects are also not lost on me.  People all over the US are bursting with pride that we really did elect a Black man to be president.  People all over the world have exploding heads (metaphorically speaking) as they try to reconcile their recent impressions of us with that same election of a Black man.

However, while we gaze at each other in happy astonishment, blinking in the glorious new light and drying our tears, I am going to be a bit of a wet blanket here. I have developed the habit of looking for (and often finding, to my chagrin) unfortunate motives in myself, so here's a broader exploration in that vein:  I wonder how much of the pride felt by White America is (secretly?) very self-congratulatory.  

I keep picturing a White youth showing off a new boyfriend or girlfriend who is Black to his or her parents or friends.  "Lookitme, folks!  I'm really dating a Black person! Aren't I progressive?"  Once the self-congratulation and novelty wears off, turns out there's all the same stuff that you would have in any relationship. Plus the racial stuff to deal with on top of that, which many people aren't ready to deal with.

Now before I get any angry comments about interracial dating, I just want to point out that I am all for it.  Go back and re-read it.  This post isn't really about that.  

This is about how White people may be getting a little too full of ourselves and patting our own backs in the wake of this election. Now we really need to make sure that it's not just mental tokenism.

Circularity

According to the age calculator , I am exactly 360360 hours old right now.

Wow, is that old.

"What I Did Over Christmas Vacation"

Just so I'll remember that brief, shining week (four days) off in the months and years to come.

In no particular order, though numbered.

1. Cleaned bathroom for second time since we moved in August.

2. Opened bathroom sink u-joint (or whatever it's called) and pulled out a bunch of really gross material, then Drano-ed the sink and tub.

3. Showered most days.

4. Took a BATH one day, while reading a murder mystery, drinking a cup of hot gloegg, and using a mud mask. It doesn't get any more decadent than that, does it?

5. Built a cardboard box castle for Limelet, using these rivets .  We didn't paint it and it's different than their example, but Limelet loves it just the same. (This might be appropriate for pet havers, too.)

6. Using my new Christmas bar code scanner, I catalogued our books on Library Thing .  I still had to type in some by hand, but the scanner sure is fun.  I haven't yet added Limelet's books--maybe next year. Keep in mind that the listed books are only the ones that we brought with us or have accumulated since then; the majority are packed away in our storage unit for whenever it is we are more settled. Oh yeah; it also doesn't include all my psych books, which are in my office at work. (Wow, now that I look at them, there are a lot...)

7. Cooked dinner most days.

8. Watched a bunch of really bad or at least really old movies on VHS while doing other things. Included Buckaroo Banzai, Barbarella, The Highlander, and The Two Towers.

9. Tried to nap but was too excited about time off to fall asleep.

10. Backed up most of the important stuff from my laptop to a stack we have in the office in preparation for the refrantibulation of said laptop.

11. Fed backyard birds and squirrels frequently.

12. Wasted some time on internet, but not much.  Too precious!

12. Panicked daily about not using my first time off in three years to best effect.

13. Kept house somewhat more tidy than usual.

14. Organized all our boxes of tea into sandwich bags with tea box panels inside.

A Glimmer

The gods of research have not deserted me entirely.  I miss it!

Yesterday I got my dissertation back from the graduate school reader (i.e. copy editor) and it looks as though I have very few changes to make.  Yesterday I also received an email (that I read today) accepting my presentation proposal (staff training for prejudice based on ACT pilot studies by big dogs in the field) for the Big Ten Conference, which is conveniently being held in my state this year.  

I looked at the map, and I may not even have to stay overnight (though conference weekends are fun, staying in a hotel costs $$ and I'm also guessing the experience is entirely different when one is also caring for a toddler.

Huh?

Oops.

That was supposed to be a "note to self" email!

Falken

falken
Originally uploaded by doctorlizardo

Please take a look at this bizarre cover art for a Norwegian book I have. I can't explain what's going on in the image. What is that? A spirit of a bird / man that is embedded in the architecture somehow? It looks really uncomfortable, at any rate. Embiggen it to get the full impact of its inscrutability. But don't look too hard; it could hurt your eyes or perhaps burn your brain.

Beautiful, Lovely Freedom!

I have this week off, which means four (4) days free for me (about 28 hours).  This is  my first time to have a real day off where I don't have to be anywhere or get some project done (and with toddler in day care!) in over three years.  Well, actually, since I was also in grad school before that, probably since 2001.  (I wish I was kidding or exaggerating.)

 

I made a list last week of things I've been considering doing "on my week off." I included time estimates, which it turns out added up to about 96 hours.  So I guess I won't be doing all the things I imagined.

 

While blogging is one of the things I wish I had more time to do, I've been staying away from the computer for the most part, because I know I could all too easily get sucked into surfing away all 28 of those beautiful, lovely hours.  (I currently have a timer on for 10 minutes to write this!)  I have so many IRL things I want to do that I will feel terrible if the week is over and I haven't done them.

 

However, I may do a bit more blogging or at least emailing later this week.

 

Happy New Year!

Neologism of the Day - Practiculous

We have had to move all the festive bits to the top 1/3 of our Christmas tree because Limelet insists on pulling off every glass ball he can and dragging them around the house.  So we have a very well-decorated (or should I say highly decorated?) tree top, and then the bottom 2/3 of the tree is minimalist.  This is a look I call "practiculous" -- practical, but ridiculous.  

It is a very familiar style to me, as it has been my fashion byword for decades.  However, I can't think of specific examples right now. Perhaps you have some of your own.

Happy Winter Solstice!

stonehenge winter solstice 2008
Originally uploaded by zombizi

I've never been here, but I hear it's madness at any solstice anyway.

Snuggle up and have cocoa and something fire-like.

Explaining Parental Activity Trauma, Plus Some Saved-Up Randomness

We finally all seem to be getting over our marathon illness that spanned most of October and November. It didn't seem as severe as flu I've had in the past, but cold viruses don't last longer than 10 days, right? Anyway, it really put a damper on our lives and we were all bloody well sick of it (metaphorically speaking) by the time it was over.

I think all the time in blogoform, but rarely actually sit down to execute it. I forget that in pre-motherhood days I would not have known or possibly even believed how many parts of my life would be restricted or curtailed by having a little person around, including just sending emails or blogging.

A long time ago (but possibly just this past year) I was reminded of this by an exchange I had with a child-free relative who had posted some interesting things online. I hope that person will forgive me for using this email publicly (but it's not like it's something terrible). It's just such a good opportunity to explain this phenomenon.

ME: I want to see them both [interesting items], but can't do it at work and it's very hard to do so at home (mainly for Limelet reasons, of course)

CHILDFREE RELATIVE: Perhaps you should put "headphones" on your Amazon Christmas wish list this year!

ME: Oh [Childfree Relative]. If only it were that simple. I have headphones; it's that I can't be on the computer at ALL if Limelet is awake. And he sleeps precious little other than when we're also asleep. By the time he finally goes to sleep, we're both exhausted and I still have to shower and pack my lunch for the next day. When I do steal some computer time, it's usually doing something I can only do from the home computer (like uploading the obligatory birthday pix).

CF: Obviously I am ignorant about the whole havin' a kid thing. The phrase "I can't be on the computer at ALL if Limelet is awake" baffles me, quite honestly.
...

So, perhaps you are as baffled as CF was. And as I said I think it would have baffled me, too. But perhaps a thought experiment will help, at least it will if you're from a large family.

Okay, imagine the sibling you had who was most annoyingly clingy* and who just had to do everything you did, usually a younger sibling ("Jimmy" or "Janie"). Now imagine yourself as you are now, sitting down at your computer. Imagine that sibling standing right next to you, trying the entire time to grab the mouse, hit the keyboard, and begging loudly (okay then, shouting!) to view his or her favorite sites instead of your Gmail or Youtube or bank account.

Now in the old days, when you were fed up with this kind of thing, eventually you might shout "Mo-o-o-mmmm! Jimmy or Janie won't let me check my email!" and Mom might come in and take the now-crying Jimmy or Janie away. Depending on your mom. At any rate, there was probably some point of time in your day during which you were away from Jimmy or Janie.

But today, you're the grown-up. You are Mom! Allow the ramifications of this to sink in. No one will come to take Jimmy or Janie away no matter what he or she does. In fact, unless you have something arranged with someone else, you may not have any time that is not Jimmy or Janie-filled, at least if Jimmy or Janie sleeps as little as Limelet does.

Forget those ads you've seen (at least I've seen them) in which a nicely dressed woman sits at her easel painting in a spotless home while her baby sits on the carpet near her playing with blocks. I still laugh about that ad. The baby would play with those blocks for about 20 seconds, given Mama's super-intriguing activity so close at hand. That kid isn't even trying to eat her paints, let alone smear her canvas! Also, how on earth did she get a shower that early in the day, and have time to do her hair and makeup? Who cleaned her house?

This morning I washed my face and brushed my teeth and put on my pants as hurriedly as possible with the bathroom door open, while Limelet cried and shrieked horribly and writhed in TheLimey's arms nearby, because he wanted me to hold him, not Daddy. I daily put my lipstick on and brush my hair at work for more or less that reason.

So I hope the non-computer time thing makes more sense now. In fact, I am writing this on my work computer at lunchtime, though I usually go home just to get out of the (garden-level) office.

Anyhoo.

Today it is spring for some reason, but we did have snow the week before Thanksgiving. And it turns out that Pennsylvanians do the same thing that Michiganians do, which is to criticize one another's snow driving as soon as snow threatens. Naturally, the criticism is for opposite types of driving. It starts like this: "Around here, as soon as the first snow falls, there will be a bunch of accidents, because every year people forget how to drive in snow."

So far, this sounds sort of reasonable: a social observation of some kind. But it turns out that it actually means one of two completely opposite things. One is that the criticizer is someone who does not modify the way they drive for weather changes of any kind, and they believe that since others do, they must have "forgotten" how to drive. The other is a criticizer who is petrified of snow-related accidents and is upset when others do not modify their driving for weather, so the criticizer believes that those people have "forgotten" how to modify their driving for snow since the previous year.

Now, I probably fall more closely into the latter group. However, I don't really believe that people "forget" how to drive in snow each year, I just think they have that illusory sense of safety that comes from being in a large vehicle with anti-skid brakes and airbags and so forth. (Studies show that people drive to the limits of the safety of their specific vehicle, whatever that may be). I've experienced way too many events in which someone overestimated their traction or their brakes and got into some kind of collision, to have that illusion myself. I've also tended to have teeny tiny cars that didn't have automatic anything, so I could feel all the slithering and sliding all too clearly. (Plus I've researched driving attitudes.)

So, just for the record, stop telling yourself (and others) that others have forgotten how to drive in snow. Either they have a tiny car that can't drive fast in snow like yours can (or so you think! Ha!), or they have a big vehicle that makes them think they don't have to change their driving habits for snowy roads. Nobody's forgotten anything.

We actually have holly bushes in the front yard, so we have built-in decorations (as long as I keep it up high, since it's poisonous). There's also a huge holly tree next to my work building. I didn't even know holly became a tree when left to its devices, but there it is. Huge and shiny and bright with berries.

Okay, pie. I love pumpkin pie**, and tend to eat it for breakfast the week after Thanksgiving. At least the kind that I make, which is heavy on the eggs and spices, especially cloves. After all, it's squash, eggs, and milk. Sounds like a healthy breakfast to me! Originally TheLimey did not like pumpkin pie at all (nor peanut butter for that matter). But he's gradually begun to like it more each year, so now when I make pies they don't last nearly as long as they used to. This last batch disappeared almost instantly! (And we can't keep peanut butter in, either). And, oddly, I've started liking apple pie because he likes it. Well, I didn't dislike it before, I just found it kind of non-exceptional. But since I was making it each year, I started experimenting with the recipe (with some help from America's Test Kitchen, of course) and ended up with something that I can't restrain myself from gobbling down. The ingredient that makes the biggest difference is the zest of one lemon, as insignificant as that sounds. It's well worth the hassle of zesting that dang lemon, which is always a pain.

And finally, something that's almost a swear, but is a real place, apparently. Zesus Chrest !

*That sounded terrible. I don't mean that Limelet is annoyingly clingy. He's appropriately interactive and dependent for his age. But in the example, I'm picturing how a slightly older child might react instead of how a parent might react. (When in fact I'm a much older child.) This is not to say I'm never annoyed, but it's not because he's being anything other than he should.

**I noticed for the first time this year that my cheesy Classic Christmas Songs CD contains not one, not two, but three references to pumpkin pie. It appears in Sleigh Ride, Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, and There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays. Was pumpkin pie originally a Christmas staple that migrated to Thanksgiving, or what?

Internets Advice

A friend of mine who still thinks that I am somehow internet savvy recently posed this question to me:

"My close friends from high school, mostly the wedding party at my wedding, are hoping to return to [party town] this year to celebrate [wife] and I being married for five years.  Anyway, I'm looking for a site where they can all be members, we can chat about who wants to drive, who wants to get hotel rooms, etc. . . and then possibly have an ongoing survey to see where the next get together will be.  "

Now, I'd probably just use eVite myself, because I already know about it.  But perhaps some of you have used other sites to this end and have better ideas.  I promise I'll give you full citation for the advice.

Almost the Meaning of Life

I think I worked like nuts on my birthday last year, too. But this
year I have even been too busy the past two days to tease TheLimey
about his being two years older than me, and now I've lost my chance.
Back to being just one year younger than he is.

I locked my keys in the house when leaving the house after lunch.
Darnit. It doesn't mean anything practically speaking, but I hate
having my keys, phone, or wallet out of my reach.