Jul 31 2007

Water Baby

Last week, our daycare lady gave Cole this cute little Cozy Coop pool toy. We couldn’t go to my parent’s house until the weekend, so this sat, all inflated, in our house for a few days. Every day Cole would find it and attempt to play with it on the floor, and every day he had a fit when I would take it away so that he wouldn’t pop it before we got a chance to put it in the pool.

So imagine my surprise when we finally got it in the pool and he threw a screaming hissy when we put him in it.
Damn, but that boy was in a foul mood. We really couldn’t figure out what the problem was, but it may have been that the leg holes were not big enough for his thoroughly nibble-able thighs.

After we (sort of ) got a clue and perched him on top of the leg holes, he decided that maybe the toy was okay and it possibly made it all the way to fun.

(Somewhat of a side- when did he get so big? He’s supposed to be 21 months, but I swear from these pictures you’d think I had a 4 year old!)

(Okay, so maybe I exaggerate, what with the chubbo thighs and elbow dimples he’s still sporting, but, well… y’know.)

Last night he discovered the ultimate funny of the face-on-shower-door-smoosh. Ahhh… I recall those days. Good times, good times…

Okay, yes- I did it last night too. How do you think he “discovered” it?
But anyway, still hilarious.

I was laughing so hard and taking so many pictures that he got tired of the game before I did (a toddler got tired of a repetitive game before me? I have serious problems…). I kind of ignored his requests to be taken out of the tub, and instead tried to interest him in the face-smoosh game some more. He was having none of it.

Get me out of this bath, for I am PRUNEY!

That’s it, woman. I’m climbing.
Jul 27 2007

I feel all squishy in my tummy.

Where the eff did the week go? Ohhhright.

I’m starting to get very nervous about next Tuesday. Do you remember when I said that I was nervous about doing a solo in dance class and that I thought about calling in sick and not doing it? Well, I actually ended up getting sick and didn’t do it. So next Tuesday is my second chance. Just thinking about it makes my stomach want to drop out onto the floor.

I never used to get nervous quite like this. Of course, there were always times of nervousness before performances, but usually it didn’t happen until right before I went on stage. I didn’t freak about it and lose sleep over it for weeks before. I don’t know why I let it get to me now. Maybe I care more about dancing than I ever cared about playing music or acting. I think it’s more than that, though I can’t put my finger on it. I do know that I do not like it.

I’m sure I would feel better if I already had the dance choreographed. But I don’t. Like, at all. I’m going to have to improvise most of it, and improvisation is something I’m TERRIBLE at. I think that’s why I come off as such a dork. I can write like crazy if I know exactly what I’m supposed to be imparting, but I’m a terrible speaker, awful on the phone, and appear to not have a creative bone in my body when put on the spot. I also fear that I seem like a really pompous asshole in comments on other people’s blogs. No wonder the only friends I have are the ones who I’ve known forever. That’s how long it takes to look past what an idiot I can be!

(While I’m at it, if I ever came across as an asshole on your blog, I am SO sorry. I really never mean to be, I just seem to stick my damn foot in my mouth WAAAAAY too often.)

So yeah, this week went by fast. And Tuesday will be here really soon. I have no excuses this time, unless I decide to pack up my family and move to Spain in the next three days…

Anybody know where I can find classifieds for Spain?

Jul 25 2007

Oh really?

Love it, Love it, Love it!

Jul 23 2007


Saturday was our 10 year high school reunion. No, we didn’t go. Who do you think I am? Like, social or something? Pssht!

Instead, we celebrated by doing what we were probably doing during our Senior Prom (which we also didn’t go to). No! Not THAT! You dirty minded so-and-sos…

We played D&D; (yup- that’s Dungeons and Dragons…). Until 2am. Of course, this time I took care of a very pesky bottle of wine that had been eying me sideways-like all afternoon. I didn’t do any of that stuff in high school (I was really, disgustingly good in high school).

We had a great time (or I did, at least, but maybe that was the wine’s influence). We ate repulsive amounts of “Natural” (therefore HEALTHY!!!) cheese-poof-thingys because we just couldn’t stop eating until the bag was gone. We made really stupid jokes and laughed at each other’s stupid jokes. I laughed at my own stupid jokes, but that’s usually the case. I’m also usually the only one laughing.

I has a lot of fun, and I can’t imagine a more appropriate way to spend a reunion. Of course, I may be trying to justify our choice not to go when actually we just didn’t have the $80 plus the cost of a babysitter that it would have taken to be able to go.

Nah- it was just more fun than a reunion could ever be. And I didn’t even have to put on makeup!

Jul 20 2007


Am I invisible today? Just checking…

Jul 19 2007

What I did about it

Here’s what I wrote to my supervisor (who, by the way, agrees with me whole-heartedly):

I am concerned by the, I feel, clearly discriminatory nature of the new personal attire policy. It seems that it is a policy directed solely at the female employees. While I agree with some of the suggestions, I do not agree with all of them. In particular I find the footwear policy to be unnecessary. While it is important, from a safety standpoint, to make sure that we are wearing the appropriate shoes for the tasks we are performing, I in no way feel that it requires a policy that disallows certain types of shoes in all cases. For instance, the example given is about flip flops. Personally, I do not frequently wear flip flops, but when I do they are clean, nice looking sandals that happen to have a thong piece between my toes. They stay on my feet as well as most closed shoes. I do not perform tasks which make the exposure of my toes a hazard. There is no safety risk.

From a “professional” standpoint, I wonder where we draw the line. Sport sandals stay on feet but are not very “professional” looking. Will they be deemed inappropriate as well? What about open-toe sandals that do have a strap on the back to make sure that they can’t fall off? What about high-heeled, fancy sandals with a thong between the toes but no strap? What about open-toe heels? You may call this a slippery slope argument, but I really don’t see a clear line here past, perhaps, a personal aesthetic, and I don’t see that as a valid argument. If we want to get into a personal aesthetic argument then nobody wins. We all have different taste. We are not a company that wears uniforms. Until we are, I believe the only argument that can be made is one of safety and decency, neither of which should make sandals inappropriate in all cases.

She will be putting it together with what the other irritated employees are saying and will be presenting it to the appropriate people.

The thing that really gets to me is that this policy springs from a personal problem that a VP is having with an employee who happens to live with him (they are not romantically involved and are not related, he just acts like her father all the time). We have worn whatever we’ve wanted for years until she was hired and he started telling her what she could and couldn’t wear on her way out the door to work. THAT IS NOT A VALID REASON TO MAKE A POLICY!! WE should not have to suffer for her crappy fashion decisions!

Anyway… what do you all think about this?

Jul 19 2007


I try not to talk about work on this site. I don’t think it’s appropriate or professional. However, there are times when I can say something that will not reveal the company I work for and wouldn’t really hurt them if I did.

This may be difficult to explain properly, seeing as most of you do not work in this office with me (though it would be a blast if you did!).

Our current company dress policy is as follows:
A professional appearance is essential to your job. You are a representative of Condor, so you must present a clean and professional image to clients, co-workers, and management. You must practice good grooming and personal hygiene. Clothing must be neat, clean, tasteful, in good repair, and appropriate for our professional work. Avoid clothing that can create a safety hazard. Department managers may issue more specific guidelines.

Fine. I have NO problem with that. I try to dress nicely and cleanly. I shower every morning. I may not put on makeup or really “do” my hair, but I have a clean face and I pull my hair back so that it’s nowhere near messy. There are days when I’m not feeling tip-top when I may slip a bit and wear jeans and a company polo, but those are rare.

Here’s the not yet published UPDATE to the policy:
Appropriate professional attire should not reveal any part of your undergarments or reveal any midriff skin, body piercing, or tattoos. All shoes should be securely fitted to your foot; i.e., flip flop sandals are not acceptable professional foot apparel.

I’m fine with the undergarment thing- my bra straps often slip because of the way my shoulders are shaped, but I don’t intentionally wear anything that reveals my undergarments. I also agree with the midriff showing- I don’t believe that half shirts are really acceptable (or particularly attractive) in the workplace. Any workplace.

Then we get to the part that pisses me right the fuck off. Body piercings? Tattoos? I may have neither, but entirely believe in a person’s right to have those which are on parts of the body that can be appropriately shown at work be seen. If I had sleeve tattoos would I be forced to wear long sleeves every day? If I had a tattoo on my ankle, would they make me cover it with a sock or pants at all times? It’s BULLSHIT.

But the next part is what I have the biggest problem with. The flip flops. I know it sounds silly. Most offices wouldn’t want their employees to wear flip flops. But it has NEVER EVER been a problem here. I rarely wear flip flops, but the ones I have are clean and more sandal-looking than sporty or casual. The argument given is that it’s a safety hazard and we could “stub our toes.” What the fuck? Why do you care if I stub my toe? Do you really fucking think I’ll be awarded Worker’s Comp for a goddamn stubbed toe? Fuck you.

I also fear the slipperyness of this argument. Are sandals with a thong between my toes but that also have an ankle strap okay? Are open-toed sandals okay? I have some very nice quality shoes that are open-toe. They are completely professional. Can I wear those? Where does it stop? Will all of these things be outlawed until all we can wear are unattractive closed-toe pumps? Should I go buy some in black, navy, tan, taupe, white, and red to cover all of my outfits. Fuck that. Not to mention I don’t have the money to go out and buy all new shoes, even though that does sound like fun (the new shoes, not the “rainbow” of ugly ass pumps). Will you be providing a shoe replacement budget?

And what about the guys who wear t-shirts, jeans, and sport sandals? Are you going to stop them? They’re more likely to go out in the field than we are.

We’re not a fancy company. We’ve NEVER been a fancy company. I think we have some of the big clients that we do because they feel comfortable with us. No one has ever had to take me aside and tell me that my clothing choices were inappropriate. Treat us like adults who can make decisions for ourselves and only spend your time on those who demonstrate that they can’t. LEAVE MY FUCKING WARDROBE THE FUCK ALONE!!!

Of course, my gut response is to want to go out and get tattoos in very obvious places and them come to work in a mini skirt, half shirt, and flip flops just to piss them off. I bet they wouldn’t say anything.

I know that this is to some extent an overreaction, but I also just can’t stand being told what to do with something so fucking trivial. I also can’t believe how blatant the double standards are for men and women. The women who work here are (for the most part) very professional. We don’t deserve this. Leave us alone to do our jobs. In flip flops, if we fucking feel like it.

Jul 16 2007

There goes the rest of my time…


Jul 16 2007

Sunday Dinner

John, my father, and I have started a new tradition. Instead of always having one person cook, we are going to get together at least once a month with a special menu- usually with a theme- and have each person take a dish (or two, if they feel like it). It will help us explore new recipes, take the burden off of the normal cooks, and be a lot of fun. At least, so far it has been.

Last night was the first night. We were feeling adventurous and decided on Thai. Dad made a dish from the Lemongrass Cafe cookbook that I borrowed from the library, and John and I each made a dish from the general (but really quite excellent) Thai book that I bought years ago at a bookstore sale.

The results:
… were DELICIOUS. We are such awesome cooks! From the top, clockwise: Made by Dad- Sweet and Spicy Shrimp (shrimp, broccoli, cucumbers, pineapple, celery, tomatoes, chile paste, fish sauce, soy sauce…to name a few of the ingredients); Made by me- Fragrant Chicken Curry (Chicken, LOTS of curry paste, lemongrass, coconut milk, onions, garlic, cilantro, yogurt, apricot jam…); Jasmine Rice (made by me, but it hardly counts); Made by John- Thai Asparagus (asparagus, toasted sesame seeds, green thai chile, red bell pepper, garlic, ginger… so simple, so good!). All that plus a bottle of wine made by a company on whose cave our company worked. It was a very special dinner.

After dinner, we ate lovely, refreshing chunks of watermelon and then sat down to watch a Planet Earth (an Oceans one). After all that settled, I brought out the Coconut Custard with Mango, which was good, but not quite as good as I’d hoped. I was hoping for more of a creme brulee texture and got more of a gelatinous flan texture, but the flavor was nice. The best part was the fresh mango- I bought one that was a honey mango or some such thing and it was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted.

Cole, unfortunately, was not all that interested in the food. He’s been a particularly picky eater lately, and it was too spicy. He sat and ate swiss cheese slices and then had a few bites of pizza when we went home. I guess you can’t please everyone.

(My tummy’s grumbling just looking at that picture. I can’t wait for the leftovers today at lunch!)

(Oh- John and I also got away by ourselves and saw a movie, the first in quite some time. We saw Harry Potter and mostly enjoyed it. I was squirming a lot by the end due to the massive dose of cheeziness, but it was still totally worth seeing. I nearly offended people before the movie started, though, listening to their comments about the previews and things. I need to learn to keep my snorts to myself. But tell me- if someone was watching a preview for Fred Claus and shouted out “That right there- that’s a WINNER. That’s my kind of movie!”, would you be able to help yourself? I know you all are clearly better people than I, but really…)

Jul 13 2007


We’ve gotten to the point in Cole’s verbal development where he wants to know names for things. I also now correct him when he has used the wrong name for something.

I am a shy person about my body most of the time, but I refuse to hide in my own home around John and Cole. Though I would prefer that nobody see me ever, I know that’s not possible and I also don’t want to give Cole the same attitude about his body. So I try to be… relaxed, I guess, but not flagrant by any means.

Recently, Cole was cuddling in bed with me and John and started laughing and poking my boob, which is really a bit too much for me, but I tried to just kind of ignore it. But when he stared calling it “belly,” I had to step in and correct him. However, I wasn’t really digging most of my choices, which broke down to roughly the following: 1) “Breast” (it just seems too… clinical or something); 2) Some kind of slang like “boobie” or “tit”- all seemed unseemly for an innocent little baby-buddha to be saying, plus the idea of having him grab me in the supermarket and holler “BOOB!” (I’m lookin’ at you, Hannah!) was not terrifically appealing; 3) go with “nursie,” which is what my sister used, but just didn’t seem right considering that I wasn’t able to nurse him that way for long; or 4) Other- uuummmm, yeah.

So what came out of my mouth when I corrected him, and what has stuck, was “baba.” That is (sadly) what he calls his bottles, it’s kind of like “boob,” but not embarrassing, and it’s really more the function they served. And, if he ever hollers it in the supermarket, hopefully no one will know that he means my boob and not an actual bottle.

Maybe not perfect, but, if put on the spot, what would you have done? No really- what?