BIG CITY YEAR IN REVIEW:
Best movie I've seen this year: 24 Hour Party People
Sweetest movie I’ve seen this year: Secretary
Hottest movie I’ve seen this year: Unfaithful
Worst movie I've seen this year: Phone Booth. Hands down. Someone please explain to me the appeal of Colin Firth. Because I don't get it. And the thought of him playing Vermeer in a "serious" movie...well...
Best book I read this year (fiction): The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. Ondaatje's Anil's Ghost is a very close second.
Best book I read this year (non fiction): Seabiscuit by Laura Hellenbrand. Honorable mention to On the Rez by Ian Frazier.
Best CDs I bought/was given this year: Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot; Radiohead, Hail to the Thief; Randy Newman, Songbook Volume I; Beck, Sea Change.
TV Shows worth setting the VCR for: The OC, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, 24 (it still sucks, I still love it). It's been a leaner TV-watching year with the loss of HBO, the increased work load, the pregnancy and the demands of the baby. I don't watch much other than the above.
Proudest Moment: Definitely picking myself up off of my feet and starting my own business. I'm still very, very proud.
That's it for the list. Still not sure what we're doing to celebrate the new year -- I hope you all have a very safe holiday. Watch out for the amateurs on the highway.
See you in 2004!
Friday, December 26, 2003
Xmas Recap
Considering the rocky start on the morning of the 24th, amazingly enough, Christmas eve/day went really, really well.
Wednesday morning found me shuffling about the house in absolute misery and panic. Some kind of horrible depression took over me, I felt completely defeated in the face of the holiday, tired, worn out, overwhelmed. I was convinced I was going to screw the whole thing up and my kids would forever remember this as The Christmas Mom Wigged Out. Brian went ahead to the ranch and I started gathering things together to go as well. I had to pick the big boys up at their dad's house on the way out there, but the baby was with me.
Got the car loaded up, scooped up the baby and a couple of bags and headed out the door...where I promptly lost my footing and fell forward onto the concrete. Some kind of superhero parenting instinct kicked in and I managed to get my hand underneath the baby's head and keep it from slamming into the concrete. He was crying but mostly from the shock. I picked us up and dusted us off, went on over to the car where I promptly fell again, in much the same way, this time letting the baby pretty much fall into the grass. It was one of those slow motion falls where you can see it all happening and you are powerless to stop it. This fall really got me good, and I sat there for a minute, holding the baby, him crying, me crying, not sure if I could stand up, not a neighbor in sight. Finally pulled myself up off the ground and got the baby into the car seat, and myself into the driver's seat. I was in excruciating pain at this point, having pulled every groin muscle there is. Called the ex and told him I was on my way.
Pulling out of the development and onto the main road we drove a few blocks and then I saw, right in front of me, a dead tabby cat in the road. The markings looked very much like my cat Buda, and with a sickening feeling I pulled the car around and went back to check. Got out and crossed the road to have a look, and it was Buda, lying there. She must have just been hit. Her body was still warm. I was of course completely beside myself in tears. Some nice ladies pulled over and tried to help me out. I scooped her up in a dish towel and they lent me a plastic bag to put underneath her. I drove back home to get a box or something so I could carry her out to the ranch and buried her. Called Brian in tears on the cell phone. Pulled into the driveway, stepped out of the car and saw Buda's littermate coming up the drive. Neither she nor the dog had seemed particularly interested in this dead cat I was holding, which I thought was odd. Went inside to get a plastic bag and coming back out and around the car I looked down and saw...
Buda.
Very much alive.
I looked at the dead cat in my arms, looked at Buda down there in the driveway, and felt like the world's biggest idiot.
So there I was, with a dead cat. I felt kind of sheepish taking her back to the side of the road (what must those nice ladies be thinking about me now?) but I didn't know what else to do with her. Left the poor cat there to be found, I hope, by her rightful owner, and drove up to pick up the boys.
At this point, it should be said, that the pain was so bad I could hardly see straight. The boys and I headed straight out for the ranch. We needed to stop for food and wrapping paper so I managed to get us to a grocery store where we proceeded to v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y shop for some basics to get us through the next couple of days. I was in complete agony. Somehow I managed to get us all through that ordeal, back to the car, stop for some fast food, and out to the ranch. Where I collapsed.
Brian took the boys out "tree hunting" and came back with a lovely cedar tree. It's nothing like a typical Chrismas tree, it's all light and air instead of dense and sturdy. And it looked beautiful with our lights and ornaments on it. I mostly sat and watched but couldn't bear to be so left out so I got up for a bit and did some tree trimming. Trimming the tree on Christmas Eve may be one of my favorite activities. Brian begged some food off of his aunt and we had a pretty meager meal of chicken and beans, but it was better than nothing. We hung up the stockings on the wood stove, left out some chocolate chip cookies and spiked egg nog for Santa (we know what Santa likes), and the kids went promptly to bed, no doubt with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads.
Maybe that's enough for one entry. I had less pain on Christmas day, and even less today. Everyone is still sick, I am still borderline depressed, but the boys had a fantastic Christmas, which was what really mattered most to me. They were very pleased with their presents, and didn't seem to feel remotely deprived, which was my greatest fear. And it was lovely to spend our first full Christmas out at the ranch, the first of many.
Happy Holidays to all of you.
Considering the rocky start on the morning of the 24th, amazingly enough, Christmas eve/day went really, really well.
Wednesday morning found me shuffling about the house in absolute misery and panic. Some kind of horrible depression took over me, I felt completely defeated in the face of the holiday, tired, worn out, overwhelmed. I was convinced I was going to screw the whole thing up and my kids would forever remember this as The Christmas Mom Wigged Out. Brian went ahead to the ranch and I started gathering things together to go as well. I had to pick the big boys up at their dad's house on the way out there, but the baby was with me.
Got the car loaded up, scooped up the baby and a couple of bags and headed out the door...where I promptly lost my footing and fell forward onto the concrete. Some kind of superhero parenting instinct kicked in and I managed to get my hand underneath the baby's head and keep it from slamming into the concrete. He was crying but mostly from the shock. I picked us up and dusted us off, went on over to the car where I promptly fell again, in much the same way, this time letting the baby pretty much fall into the grass. It was one of those slow motion falls where you can see it all happening and you are powerless to stop it. This fall really got me good, and I sat there for a minute, holding the baby, him crying, me crying, not sure if I could stand up, not a neighbor in sight. Finally pulled myself up off the ground and got the baby into the car seat, and myself into the driver's seat. I was in excruciating pain at this point, having pulled every groin muscle there is. Called the ex and told him I was on my way.
Pulling out of the development and onto the main road we drove a few blocks and then I saw, right in front of me, a dead tabby cat in the road. The markings looked very much like my cat Buda, and with a sickening feeling I pulled the car around and went back to check. Got out and crossed the road to have a look, and it was Buda, lying there. She must have just been hit. Her body was still warm. I was of course completely beside myself in tears. Some nice ladies pulled over and tried to help me out. I scooped her up in a dish towel and they lent me a plastic bag to put underneath her. I drove back home to get a box or something so I could carry her out to the ranch and buried her. Called Brian in tears on the cell phone. Pulled into the driveway, stepped out of the car and saw Buda's littermate coming up the drive. Neither she nor the dog had seemed particularly interested in this dead cat I was holding, which I thought was odd. Went inside to get a plastic bag and coming back out and around the car I looked down and saw...
Buda.
Very much alive.
I looked at the dead cat in my arms, looked at Buda down there in the driveway, and felt like the world's biggest idiot.
So there I was, with a dead cat. I felt kind of sheepish taking her back to the side of the road (what must those nice ladies be thinking about me now?) but I didn't know what else to do with her. Left the poor cat there to be found, I hope, by her rightful owner, and drove up to pick up the boys.
At this point, it should be said, that the pain was so bad I could hardly see straight. The boys and I headed straight out for the ranch. We needed to stop for food and wrapping paper so I managed to get us to a grocery store where we proceeded to v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y shop for some basics to get us through the next couple of days. I was in complete agony. Somehow I managed to get us all through that ordeal, back to the car, stop for some fast food, and out to the ranch. Where I collapsed.
Brian took the boys out "tree hunting" and came back with a lovely cedar tree. It's nothing like a typical Chrismas tree, it's all light and air instead of dense and sturdy. And it looked beautiful with our lights and ornaments on it. I mostly sat and watched but couldn't bear to be so left out so I got up for a bit and did some tree trimming. Trimming the tree on Christmas Eve may be one of my favorite activities. Brian begged some food off of his aunt and we had a pretty meager meal of chicken and beans, but it was better than nothing. We hung up the stockings on the wood stove, left out some chocolate chip cookies and spiked egg nog for Santa (we know what Santa likes), and the kids went promptly to bed, no doubt with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads.
Maybe that's enough for one entry. I had less pain on Christmas day, and even less today. Everyone is still sick, I am still borderline depressed, but the boys had a fantastic Christmas, which was what really mattered most to me. They were very pleased with their presents, and didn't seem to feel remotely deprived, which was my greatest fear. And it was lovely to spend our first full Christmas out at the ranch, the first of many.
Happy Holidays to all of you.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003
My Brain Loves This Song
Years ago, when living in Wisconsin, I remember a comic strip -- I think it was in The Onion. It might have been a Zippy cartoon, maybe Matt Groenig, I'm just not sure. Anyway, the main character was going insane because his brain loved a particular song which he absolutely loathed. "My brain loves this song" became a sort of trademark phrase between me and my friends whenever a particularly loathsome piece of music would get stuck in our heads.
I think it's going on 5 days now of that motherfucking Blind Melon song which has reappeared in that Pepsi ad. My brain seriously loves that song. I may require a frontal lobotomy soon.
Years ago, when living in Wisconsin, I remember a comic strip -- I think it was in The Onion. It might have been a Zippy cartoon, maybe Matt Groenig, I'm just not sure. Anyway, the main character was going insane because his brain loved a particular song which he absolutely loathed. "My brain loves this song" became a sort of trademark phrase between me and my friends whenever a particularly loathsome piece of music would get stuck in our heads.
I think it's going on 5 days now of that motherfucking Blind Melon song which has reappeared in that Pepsi ad. My brain seriously loves that song. I may require a frontal lobotomy soon.
Monday, December 22, 2003
Code Orange
Don't you just love the whole "go on about your daily lives, don't worry about sitting in that football stadium/flying into LAX/visiting the tree in Rockefeller Center but BE VIGILANT." ???
Oh, OK. I'll keep an eye out for strange men with suitcases. Thanks for the tip, Tom Ridge.
My life pretty much feels like Code Orange right now. Keep it together, keep moving, try not to let the shit hit the fan. Try not to have a nervous breakdown. I have a laundry list of complaints and stressors and anxiety, none of which seem to be abating to any degree. If anything, it all seems to be getting worse and I feel positively paralyzed in the face of it.
Here's the thing: I'm 32 weeks pregnant with twins and dear readers, let me tell you, it is no picnic. I don't have the physical ability or stamina to do much other than feed myself and try to feed my kids. I feel piled on with business worries and moving worries and money worries and (God help me) Christmas worries and sick children worries not to mention my own borderline bronchitis/pneumonia/cough from hell which just won't go away. So some days I find myself sinking into a deep depression, the likes of which I haven't felt in over 6 years. I cry at the drop of a hat. I'm sleep deprived and sex deprived (doctor's orders) and rest deprived and financially deprived.
Other days I think, you know, it's really not so bad. I have a multitude of blessings. Of course I know this in my heart. But the self pity takes over pretty damn fast.
I really, really need some help in the form of a person who can come and just take over for me. And there is no help coming. The only available person out there is, of course, my mother. And quite honestly today I was thinking of calling her up. Things are THAT BAD. But I don't know.
I need a break, a Christmas miracle, SOMETHING, because Code Red is just around the corner.
Don't you just love the whole "go on about your daily lives, don't worry about sitting in that football stadium/flying into LAX/visiting the tree in Rockefeller Center but BE VIGILANT." ???
Oh, OK. I'll keep an eye out for strange men with suitcases. Thanks for the tip, Tom Ridge.
My life pretty much feels like Code Orange right now. Keep it together, keep moving, try not to let the shit hit the fan. Try not to have a nervous breakdown. I have a laundry list of complaints and stressors and anxiety, none of which seem to be abating to any degree. If anything, it all seems to be getting worse and I feel positively paralyzed in the face of it.
Here's the thing: I'm 32 weeks pregnant with twins and dear readers, let me tell you, it is no picnic. I don't have the physical ability or stamina to do much other than feed myself and try to feed my kids. I feel piled on with business worries and moving worries and money worries and (God help me) Christmas worries and sick children worries not to mention my own borderline bronchitis/pneumonia/cough from hell which just won't go away. So some days I find myself sinking into a deep depression, the likes of which I haven't felt in over 6 years. I cry at the drop of a hat. I'm sleep deprived and sex deprived (doctor's orders) and rest deprived and financially deprived.
Other days I think, you know, it's really not so bad. I have a multitude of blessings. Of course I know this in my heart. But the self pity takes over pretty damn fast.
I really, really need some help in the form of a person who can come and just take over for me. And there is no help coming. The only available person out there is, of course, my mother. And quite honestly today I was thinking of calling her up. Things are THAT BAD. But I don't know.
I need a break, a Christmas miracle, SOMETHING, because Code Red is just around the corner.
Saturday, December 20, 2003
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Aaaaah, Now That's More Like It
Nothing like a couple of glasses of Rioja to settle the nerves, I tell ya.
My dad's here visiting. It's always so much EASIER having my dad visit than my mom visit (duh). He just -- comes. And is. It's never a chore.
Javier is recovering pretty nicely from his surgery. For a kid who went under general anesthesia yesterday morning to have tubes inserted in his ears and a massive amount of tissue removed from behind his nose, I'm pretty well amazed at how cheerful he is. I can't say the same for the rest of us, I'm afraid. Brian and I snapped at each other -- a rare occurence -- over whether or not he should have put the baby down for a nap. Eli is feverish and a little bit off balance. And Jack takes every road block as an excuse to get angry and indignant and call me "rude." But the baby's doing great, and so is my dad.
We made it to the store to buy the turkey today. Tomorrow I'll roast the turkey, cook up some candied ginger carrots and bake a couple pans of cracklin' cornbread (with and without bacon) as my contribution to the feast (carrots and cornbread courtesy of The Silver Palate). Dad bought a bunch of wine to take with us as well. We're going to Brian's aunt's house out on the ranch which is why we have to provide the turkey -- she's a vegetarian, but luckily not a sanctimonious one, so we're allowed to bring meat into the house.
Happy Thanksgiving y'all!
Nothing like a couple of glasses of Rioja to settle the nerves, I tell ya.
My dad's here visiting. It's always so much EASIER having my dad visit than my mom visit (duh). He just -- comes. And is. It's never a chore.
Javier is recovering pretty nicely from his surgery. For a kid who went under general anesthesia yesterday morning to have tubes inserted in his ears and a massive amount of tissue removed from behind his nose, I'm pretty well amazed at how cheerful he is. I can't say the same for the rest of us, I'm afraid. Brian and I snapped at each other -- a rare occurence -- over whether or not he should have put the baby down for a nap. Eli is feverish and a little bit off balance. And Jack takes every road block as an excuse to get angry and indignant and call me "rude." But the baby's doing great, and so is my dad.
We made it to the store to buy the turkey today. Tomorrow I'll roast the turkey, cook up some candied ginger carrots and bake a couple pans of cracklin' cornbread (with and without bacon) as my contribution to the feast (carrots and cornbread courtesy of The Silver Palate). Dad bought a bunch of wine to take with us as well. We're going to Brian's aunt's house out on the ranch which is why we have to provide the turkey -- she's a vegetarian, but luckily not a sanctimonious one, so we're allowed to bring meat into the house.
Happy Thanksgiving y'all!
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Baby, It's Cold Outside
Quiet weekend. I've got a cold and the baby is recovering from the nastiest case of conjunctivitis I've ever had the pleasure to deal with. You cannot begin to imagine the sheer volume of crap that was coming out of this kid's eyes. Seems to be mostly cleared up today, thank GOD. Because I was about ready to give him away. We rented Sweet and Lowdown and Rabbit-Proof Fence two nights ago. Brian's rental place has a 2-for-1 deal so we are always compelled to get 2 dvd's, which of course then forces us to watch two movies. Shouldn't be that hard to do, but when you're sick and busy with work and have a baby to take care of it can be tough. But anyway, we managed. Both movies are winners. Rabbit-Proof Fence made me cry. And has another awesome soundtrack by Peter Gabriel, whose soundtrack for The Last Temptation of Christ just blows me away.
I've been sucking down the zinc lozenges trying to nip this thing in the bud, and working in the odd intervals when the baby is taking a nap. Feeling pretty ragged. Looking forward to next week being over. The combination of surgery, visiting parent and major holiday is just a bit more than I feel like taking on. No choice, though.
This morning we were watching the second movie and had all the windows open in the house. I was ROASTING upstairs, positively burning up. Finished the movie, came down to the study to work, and suddenly a cold front came through. The shift was instantaneous and shocking. Temperature must have dropped 20 degrees in about 5 minutes. Ran around closing all the windows. They're talking about temperatures dropping below freezing tomorrow morning. We'll see. Time to dig out the winter stuff, I guess!
Quiet weekend. I've got a cold and the baby is recovering from the nastiest case of conjunctivitis I've ever had the pleasure to deal with. You cannot begin to imagine the sheer volume of crap that was coming out of this kid's eyes. Seems to be mostly cleared up today, thank GOD. Because I was about ready to give him away. We rented Sweet and Lowdown and Rabbit-Proof Fence two nights ago. Brian's rental place has a 2-for-1 deal so we are always compelled to get 2 dvd's, which of course then forces us to watch two movies. Shouldn't be that hard to do, but when you're sick and busy with work and have a baby to take care of it can be tough. But anyway, we managed. Both movies are winners. Rabbit-Proof Fence made me cry. And has another awesome soundtrack by Peter Gabriel, whose soundtrack for The Last Temptation of Christ just blows me away.
I've been sucking down the zinc lozenges trying to nip this thing in the bud, and working in the odd intervals when the baby is taking a nap. Feeling pretty ragged. Looking forward to next week being over. The combination of surgery, visiting parent and major holiday is just a bit more than I feel like taking on. No choice, though.
This morning we were watching the second movie and had all the windows open in the house. I was ROASTING upstairs, positively burning up. Finished the movie, came down to the study to work, and suddenly a cold front came through. The shift was instantaneous and shocking. Temperature must have dropped 20 degrees in about 5 minutes. Ran around closing all the windows. They're talking about temperatures dropping below freezing tomorrow morning. We'll see. Time to dig out the winter stuff, I guess!
Monday, November 17, 2003
Weekend
Spent the weekend at the ranch -- our longest stay there, Friday evening through Sunday evening. Brian got the lovely blue lights hung up in the kitchen and wired the telephone lines into the back room for a study, fixed the toilet in our bathroom and I'm sure did countless other things I'm leaving out. I now have a business and fax line up there, which is good. Close quarters in that house -- Eli especially was getting on everyone's nerves, and the kids just seemed to be more on top of each other and cranky. Every time Brian took them outside he said they became instantly better behaved. I was too tired to do much of anything, I'm afraid, taking 2 big naps while he rescued me by taking the children away. I hardly even stepped out of the house the whole time we were there. Did manage to get food on the table, clean up, change diapers and other housewife-y things, though, so I wasn't completely useless.
Friday was Brian's birthday so we had the celebration at the ranch -- our first time entertaining in the new house, which is of course not nearly ready for such a thing, but whatever. Unfortunately we were late (!), so I had to scramble madly to prepare food and wrap presents when we arrived, but it all turned out OK. I got a bunch of takeout food and of course cake from Central Market, and bought a bottle of cognac which went over quite well. It would have been nice to change into something more decent as I was walking around in jeans and a dirty sweatshirt...Happy Birthday, Brian.
The scorpions seem to have retreated quite dramatically, my theory is that our active presence in the house scares them away. At least I hope so. I took my first shower in the house. It's still a buggy place, but not nearly as bad as it was when we first started going up there and cleaning the place up.
This week we start work on the new account, probably on Wednesday. Next week Javier is getting surgery (ear tubes) AND my dad is coming AND it's Thanksgiving. The fun never stops around here. I guess I'd have to say I'm less weary/less depressed today. But still tired in a physical sense.
I'm reading Fragrant Harbor by John Lanchester and loving it. It's about Hong Kong.
Spent the weekend at the ranch -- our longest stay there, Friday evening through Sunday evening. Brian got the lovely blue lights hung up in the kitchen and wired the telephone lines into the back room for a study, fixed the toilet in our bathroom and I'm sure did countless other things I'm leaving out. I now have a business and fax line up there, which is good. Close quarters in that house -- Eli especially was getting on everyone's nerves, and the kids just seemed to be more on top of each other and cranky. Every time Brian took them outside he said they became instantly better behaved. I was too tired to do much of anything, I'm afraid, taking 2 big naps while he rescued me by taking the children away. I hardly even stepped out of the house the whole time we were there. Did manage to get food on the table, clean up, change diapers and other housewife-y things, though, so I wasn't completely useless.
Friday was Brian's birthday so we had the celebration at the ranch -- our first time entertaining in the new house, which is of course not nearly ready for such a thing, but whatever. Unfortunately we were late (!), so I had to scramble madly to prepare food and wrap presents when we arrived, but it all turned out OK. I got a bunch of takeout food and of course cake from Central Market, and bought a bottle of cognac which went over quite well. It would have been nice to change into something more decent as I was walking around in jeans and a dirty sweatshirt...Happy Birthday, Brian.
The scorpions seem to have retreated quite dramatically, my theory is that our active presence in the house scares them away. At least I hope so. I took my first shower in the house. It's still a buggy place, but not nearly as bad as it was when we first started going up there and cleaning the place up.
This week we start work on the new account, probably on Wednesday. Next week Javier is getting surgery (ear tubes) AND my dad is coming AND it's Thanksgiving. The fun never stops around here. I guess I'd have to say I'm less weary/less depressed today. But still tired in a physical sense.
I'm reading Fragrant Harbor by John Lanchester and loving it. It's about Hong Kong.
Thursday, November 13, 2003
Weary
Low level anxiety and depression hovering in me, around me. My own personal rain cloud. The pregnancy overwhelms me with fatigue, sending me down for naps every day. The unrelenting pressure of these babies pressing down mirrors the unrelenting pressure of Things I Need To Do Before The Babies Arrive. The Ranch House is equal parts charming and horrifying -- a sweet house with wood floors and pretty views, out in the country, surrounded by goats and chickens, cozy, ours, but also full of mold and termites and scorpions, not nearly big enough for us and all our stuff, a monumental task to make it liveable and workable. No cable, so T1 will be installed, which is great but pricey. No dishwasher. No oven. Inadequate lighting. Peeling paint. Plumbing that isn't quite sound. Propane rather than gas so all appliances must be converted. Furniture that needs to be removed. Furniture that needs to be moved in. The house is far enough from town to make my necessary daily commute to pick up work and bring kids to and from school a cumbersome chore.
And here I sit in a house that is closer to town, big enough, wired, relatively bug-free, and impossible to sell. Not that I really WANT to live here. We're right in the middle of a subdivision that sets my teeth on edge with my neighbors and their obsessively manicured lawns, their colorful seasonal flags, their candle parties. The house is cheaply made, the mortgage payments outrageous. But it's mine, and it's functional, and I'm already in it, and my feeling of inertia gets stronger with each passing day of pregnancy. I feel weary. And it all seems very unfair, although I can't figure out exactly why.
Low level anxiety and depression hovering in me, around me. My own personal rain cloud. The pregnancy overwhelms me with fatigue, sending me down for naps every day. The unrelenting pressure of these babies pressing down mirrors the unrelenting pressure of Things I Need To Do Before The Babies Arrive. The Ranch House is equal parts charming and horrifying -- a sweet house with wood floors and pretty views, out in the country, surrounded by goats and chickens, cozy, ours, but also full of mold and termites and scorpions, not nearly big enough for us and all our stuff, a monumental task to make it liveable and workable. No cable, so T1 will be installed, which is great but pricey. No dishwasher. No oven. Inadequate lighting. Peeling paint. Plumbing that isn't quite sound. Propane rather than gas so all appliances must be converted. Furniture that needs to be removed. Furniture that needs to be moved in. The house is far enough from town to make my necessary daily commute to pick up work and bring kids to and from school a cumbersome chore.
And here I sit in a house that is closer to town, big enough, wired, relatively bug-free, and impossible to sell. Not that I really WANT to live here. We're right in the middle of a subdivision that sets my teeth on edge with my neighbors and their obsessively manicured lawns, their colorful seasonal flags, their candle parties. The house is cheaply made, the mortgage payments outrageous. But it's mine, and it's functional, and I'm already in it, and my feeling of inertia gets stronger with each passing day of pregnancy. I feel weary. And it all seems very unfair, although I can't figure out exactly why.
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
Like I Was Saying
LIBRA:
>>Wednesday, November 5
Hooray for you. In fact, your faith in yourself as an active, viable, contributing member of the team should be higher than usual thanks to the Sun's happy alliance with Saturn. Moreover, your faith in your ability to achieve a professional, social or economic goal should be right up there as well, and deservedly so.
Today's star rating: *** 1/2
(from Swoon)
LIBRA:
>>Wednesday, November 5
Hooray for you. In fact, your faith in yourself as an active, viable, contributing member of the team should be higher than usual thanks to the Sun's happy alliance with Saturn. Moreover, your faith in your ability to achieve a professional, social or economic goal should be right up there as well, and deservedly so.
Today's star rating: *** 1/2
(from Swoon)
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
Pinch Me
All my life, I've worked this job and that. Lots of "administrative assistant" positions, which is office-speak for "girl-who-does-everything-and-gets-paid-crap-and-called-'girl'", sales positions, front office positions, that sort of thing. The truth is, I've been lucky (and choosy) about where I've worked -- lots of non-profits, medical clinics, friendly, smallish staffed places. A couple of times I've found myself in Corporate America with a Big C (I did a fairly long stint at the headquarters of a national women's clothing chain), and in the "IT" sector (I spent a VERY brief time working for a company that sold medical software), but mostly it's been economic development, outpatient alcohol treatment, that sort of thing. Still, as wonderful as the people were where I worked, and as progressive the workplace, I still was doing work that was less than challenging for pay that was less than rewarding. I wanted so desperately to be able to call the shots -- to run my own business, not punch a clock, not have to worry about showing up at 8 on the dot somewhere, not have to deal with office parties and gossip and waiting in line for the xerox machine and all the other banalities that awaited me out there in office land. And I wanted to do something interesting and fun, and get paid well for it. I had a college degree, I was smart and capable, I just never had been able to figure out what it was I wanted to be when I grew up. And I was all grown up already.
When we moved to Texas in September of 2001, the bottom was rapidly dropping out of the economy. There were no jobs here in office land, IT land, Corporate land, anywhere. I did my share of substitute teaching, but hated it. I tried to get into the State program to become a public school teacher but the bureaucracy kept rearing its ugly head. In spite of my stellar, well-rounded college degree, I went to the kind of school where I didn't have to declare a major and wasn't required to take physics, and trying to explain all of that to the Texas State Education Department proved to be too much of a hassle. Plus, I was increasingly afraid, after months of substitute teaching in the schools of Texas, that I would be one of those teacher burnouts. The whole atmosphere of the public schools here scared me. So, I kept looking, and waiting, and hoping, and not working. I tried VERY hard to get a job as a systems analyst trainee at the University of Texas -- passed their entrance exam with flying colors. But the program is highly competitive. Pair that with a hiring freeze, and you have a series of interviews that led nowhere.
Finally, in March, a break came in the form of a job doing medical transcription. I love typing, I love words, I love medical information, and I had experience. I got the job. I pretty quickly realized I was working for a less than stable woman in a less than stable environment, but I kept showing up and doing the work and getting paid and trying to keep my head down. Then, in August, the shit hit the fan. Unstable lady finally got around to screwing me over and I had to quit. There are a lot of details here that I'm leaving out, but trust me, it was ugly. And she still owes me money, but I have no way of getting it except to take her to court, which I am entirely unwilling to do.
So there I was again, no work, no prospects for work, 3 months pregnant, on my ass. I spent about 2 weeks licking my wounds and freaking out. Taking a deep breath, and with lots of outside encouragement, I decided to just go for it and market myself. I went after every doctor in town, including the accounts I'd been working on since March. I made 700 postcards, printed labels, affixed stamps, mailed and prayed. I also took a day to go door to door to all the doctors whose accounts I had already worked on. On my very first day of meeting and greeting I heard back within 15 minutes from a doctor. Did a trial week that week, and he signed me up 2 weeks later. I was on my way. A couple of weeks after that I got a call from an OB/Gyn looking to outsource their transcription. It was a small account, but I picked it up gladly. I now had two clients, a fax machine, some work to do...but I was getting increasingly nervous. These two clients were not going to sustain me, I needed to triple my business in order to stay afloat. I was just a few months away from delivering twins and watching my bank account dwindle away. I cringed every time I swiped the debit card at the gas pump or the grocery store, every time I wrote a check for the baby to see the doctor or fill a prescription. I was, in short, terrified.
Two weeks ago I heard that the previous boss was messing up her work for one of her biggest accounts. I knew she was behind on her work, and guessed that things were far worse than just a bad turn-around time. I headed back to that clinic with a bag of candy and a note, and was greeted warmly by the office manager. Another transcriptionist, who had also worked on this account (and also been burned by the crazy lady), had agreed to join forces with me and we were presenting ourselves as a team. Last week we got a call asking to do a trial run, which we did.
And today, I got the following email:
"Sarah,
I just wanted to touch base with & let you know that (Doctor N) was very pleased with your work. I will be giving a two week notice to (Your Crazy Former Employer) tomorrow & depending on her response we will go from there. I will keep you posted & look forward to working with both you & (Transcriptionist K)."
So, like I said, pinch me.
I'm about to be earning more than I have EVER earned in my life, doing what I like to do, from home, on my own schedule and on my own terms. I'm not saying all of this to brag. I guess I just can hardly believe that it's finally happening, that I managed to make it happen, that I've actually reached this goal. Because, believe me, I've spent YEARS with this goal in sight and have never, ever come remotely close. And now, in a matter of just a couple of months, it's all here.
I'm also not saying that all I ever want to do for the rest of my life is type medical transcription from home in my bathrobe. Because it's probably not true. I want to write, I want to do more photography, I'd like to be more involved in community service, and who knows what all else. But for now, it's more than enough to keep me happy.
So go on, pinch me.
All my life, I've worked this job and that. Lots of "administrative assistant" positions, which is office-speak for "girl-who-does-everything-and-gets-paid-crap-and-called-'girl'", sales positions, front office positions, that sort of thing. The truth is, I've been lucky (and choosy) about where I've worked -- lots of non-profits, medical clinics, friendly, smallish staffed places. A couple of times I've found myself in Corporate America with a Big C (I did a fairly long stint at the headquarters of a national women's clothing chain), and in the "IT" sector (I spent a VERY brief time working for a company that sold medical software), but mostly it's been economic development, outpatient alcohol treatment, that sort of thing. Still, as wonderful as the people were where I worked, and as progressive the workplace, I still was doing work that was less than challenging for pay that was less than rewarding. I wanted so desperately to be able to call the shots -- to run my own business, not punch a clock, not have to worry about showing up at 8 on the dot somewhere, not have to deal with office parties and gossip and waiting in line for the xerox machine and all the other banalities that awaited me out there in office land. And I wanted to do something interesting and fun, and get paid well for it. I had a college degree, I was smart and capable, I just never had been able to figure out what it was I wanted to be when I grew up. And I was all grown up already.
When we moved to Texas in September of 2001, the bottom was rapidly dropping out of the economy. There were no jobs here in office land, IT land, Corporate land, anywhere. I did my share of substitute teaching, but hated it. I tried to get into the State program to become a public school teacher but the bureaucracy kept rearing its ugly head. In spite of my stellar, well-rounded college degree, I went to the kind of school where I didn't have to declare a major and wasn't required to take physics, and trying to explain all of that to the Texas State Education Department proved to be too much of a hassle. Plus, I was increasingly afraid, after months of substitute teaching in the schools of Texas, that I would be one of those teacher burnouts. The whole atmosphere of the public schools here scared me. So, I kept looking, and waiting, and hoping, and not working. I tried VERY hard to get a job as a systems analyst trainee at the University of Texas -- passed their entrance exam with flying colors. But the program is highly competitive. Pair that with a hiring freeze, and you have a series of interviews that led nowhere.
Finally, in March, a break came in the form of a job doing medical transcription. I love typing, I love words, I love medical information, and I had experience. I got the job. I pretty quickly realized I was working for a less than stable woman in a less than stable environment, but I kept showing up and doing the work and getting paid and trying to keep my head down. Then, in August, the shit hit the fan. Unstable lady finally got around to screwing me over and I had to quit. There are a lot of details here that I'm leaving out, but trust me, it was ugly. And she still owes me money, but I have no way of getting it except to take her to court, which I am entirely unwilling to do.
So there I was again, no work, no prospects for work, 3 months pregnant, on my ass. I spent about 2 weeks licking my wounds and freaking out. Taking a deep breath, and with lots of outside encouragement, I decided to just go for it and market myself. I went after every doctor in town, including the accounts I'd been working on since March. I made 700 postcards, printed labels, affixed stamps, mailed and prayed. I also took a day to go door to door to all the doctors whose accounts I had already worked on. On my very first day of meeting and greeting I heard back within 15 minutes from a doctor. Did a trial week that week, and he signed me up 2 weeks later. I was on my way. A couple of weeks after that I got a call from an OB/Gyn looking to outsource their transcription. It was a small account, but I picked it up gladly. I now had two clients, a fax machine, some work to do...but I was getting increasingly nervous. These two clients were not going to sustain me, I needed to triple my business in order to stay afloat. I was just a few months away from delivering twins and watching my bank account dwindle away. I cringed every time I swiped the debit card at the gas pump or the grocery store, every time I wrote a check for the baby to see the doctor or fill a prescription. I was, in short, terrified.
Two weeks ago I heard that the previous boss was messing up her work for one of her biggest accounts. I knew she was behind on her work, and guessed that things were far worse than just a bad turn-around time. I headed back to that clinic with a bag of candy and a note, and was greeted warmly by the office manager. Another transcriptionist, who had also worked on this account (and also been burned by the crazy lady), had agreed to join forces with me and we were presenting ourselves as a team. Last week we got a call asking to do a trial run, which we did.
And today, I got the following email:
"Sarah,
I just wanted to touch base with & let you know that (Doctor N) was very pleased with your work. I will be giving a two week notice to (Your Crazy Former Employer) tomorrow & depending on her response we will go from there. I will keep you posted & look forward to working with both you & (Transcriptionist K)."
So, like I said, pinch me.
I'm about to be earning more than I have EVER earned in my life, doing what I like to do, from home, on my own schedule and on my own terms. I'm not saying all of this to brag. I guess I just can hardly believe that it's finally happening, that I managed to make it happen, that I've actually reached this goal. Because, believe me, I've spent YEARS with this goal in sight and have never, ever come remotely close. And now, in a matter of just a couple of months, it's all here.
I'm also not saying that all I ever want to do for the rest of my life is type medical transcription from home in my bathrobe. Because it's probably not true. I want to write, I want to do more photography, I'd like to be more involved in community service, and who knows what all else. But for now, it's more than enough to keep me happy.
So go on, pinch me.
Friday, October 24, 2003
Detoxing
My mom just left after a week-long visit so I'm in full recovery/detox mode. I don't really want to talk about it.
We got to see the twins on the ultrasound on Tuesday and they look absolutely gorgeous, healthy and happy in there. It was clear this time (unlike last time) that each girl has her own separate sac, so the "identical" assumption could be wrong, but the gender is pretty obvious. Two girls for sure. I hope they're identical, because how goddamn cute would that be, but chances are just as good that they will be non-identical. We'll see. The midwife is on board for a homebirth provided there is another midwife present to help out, and that we go full term (she's looking into exactly what "full term" is when you're talking about twins). The first baby has to be head down delivery, but that's the only real restriction, and it's the usual presentation, so I'm not worried about it. I guess it's pretty easy to turn the second baby after the first one is out, and it's also usually pretty easy to deliver a breech twin, since they are often on the smallish side. Reading about twins, now, and getting excited for girls...
My mom just left after a week-long visit so I'm in full recovery/detox mode. I don't really want to talk about it.
We got to see the twins on the ultrasound on Tuesday and they look absolutely gorgeous, healthy and happy in there. It was clear this time (unlike last time) that each girl has her own separate sac, so the "identical" assumption could be wrong, but the gender is pretty obvious. Two girls for sure. I hope they're identical, because how goddamn cute would that be, but chances are just as good that they will be non-identical. We'll see. The midwife is on board for a homebirth provided there is another midwife present to help out, and that we go full term (she's looking into exactly what "full term" is when you're talking about twins). The first baby has to be head down delivery, but that's the only real restriction, and it's the usual presentation, so I'm not worried about it. I guess it's pretty easy to turn the second baby after the first one is out, and it's also usually pretty easy to deliver a breech twin, since they are often on the smallish side. Reading about twins, now, and getting excited for girls...
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Giant Gobs of Pus
Note to self: do not watch the Red Sox on TV. When you watch them, they lose. When you don't, they win. The World Series rests on your shoulders, self.
I'm late to weigh in on it all, but seeing Zimmer charge Martinez, and then watching him go down like a sack of potatoes was just, well, funny. What a bozo.
I thought the baby had the chicken pox but it turned out to just be viral. This kid has been sick and on some sort of antibiotic for a month now. And I don't do antibiotics, generally speaking. Monday it all reached a new low (or high) when I was called back to day care to pick up my VERY sick kid who was running a very high temperature. I nursed him all day long at home (not in the breastfeeding sense of the word, more in the Nightingale sense of the word). Tuesday morning I brought him in to the doc and he was given a super-duper shot of yet another antibiotic. She looked in his ears and said she couldn't distinguish anything in there -- it looked just like two giant gobs of pus. Nice, huh? I thought you'd like that. He looked like he had two black eyes from the conjunctivits that was going on, too. And there was a weird rash on his face (hence my false chicken pox diagnosis). He's mostly all better and is going back to day care tomorrow, but we're off to see the ENT next week and I dread the tubes discussion. I really, really, really, really don't want to do the tubes. But we may have no choice. I just hope that the audiologist doesn't find anything seriously wrong with his hearing. Poor kid.
My mother is coming tomorrow. Pray for all our souls. She is threatening, once again, to move to Austin. So, once again, I will have to tell her no. It's an excruciating dance, this push-me-pull-you thing we have going. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. I love her, really. But I love her more in Massachusetts.
Still waiting for another peek at Baby A and Baby B. We had to cancel the ultrasound this week due to the baby being sick. Hopefully we can go next Tuesday and bring my mom along.
I have client #2! This client represents a teeny tiny amount of money per month, but that's OK. Her business will grow, I think, and the more clients the merrier. And I get to type oophorectomy a lot. Which is just plain fun. OK, yeah, I'm a word geek.
I've been eating better since last week, I swear. I'm trying to eat lots of small meals every day, and making sure I get more than enough protein. Apparently, one of the secrets to making sure that twins are fully cooked is protein. The other is rest. Lots of rest just might not be in the cards for me...but I can definitely do the protein thing. I do NOT want to go early, I do NOT want to go to the hospital, I want to do this at home. So I'm making every effort. Still, I'm going to have to go down to DSS next week and apply for Medicaid. There's definitely a higher likelihood that I will end up in the hospital, and if I do, I want to be covered. This whole uninsured thing really, royally, sucks.
Note to self: do not watch the Red Sox on TV. When you watch them, they lose. When you don't, they win. The World Series rests on your shoulders, self.
I'm late to weigh in on it all, but seeing Zimmer charge Martinez, and then watching him go down like a sack of potatoes was just, well, funny. What a bozo.
I thought the baby had the chicken pox but it turned out to just be viral. This kid has been sick and on some sort of antibiotic for a month now. And I don't do antibiotics, generally speaking. Monday it all reached a new low (or high) when I was called back to day care to pick up my VERY sick kid who was running a very high temperature. I nursed him all day long at home (not in the breastfeeding sense of the word, more in the Nightingale sense of the word). Tuesday morning I brought him in to the doc and he was given a super-duper shot of yet another antibiotic. She looked in his ears and said she couldn't distinguish anything in there -- it looked just like two giant gobs of pus. Nice, huh? I thought you'd like that. He looked like he had two black eyes from the conjunctivits that was going on, too. And there was a weird rash on his face (hence my false chicken pox diagnosis). He's mostly all better and is going back to day care tomorrow, but we're off to see the ENT next week and I dread the tubes discussion. I really, really, really, really don't want to do the tubes. But we may have no choice. I just hope that the audiologist doesn't find anything seriously wrong with his hearing. Poor kid.
My mother is coming tomorrow. Pray for all our souls. She is threatening, once again, to move to Austin. So, once again, I will have to tell her no. It's an excruciating dance, this push-me-pull-you thing we have going. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. I love her, really. But I love her more in Massachusetts.
Still waiting for another peek at Baby A and Baby B. We had to cancel the ultrasound this week due to the baby being sick. Hopefully we can go next Tuesday and bring my mom along.
I have client #2! This client represents a teeny tiny amount of money per month, but that's OK. Her business will grow, I think, and the more clients the merrier. And I get to type oophorectomy a lot. Which is just plain fun. OK, yeah, I'm a word geek.
I've been eating better since last week, I swear. I'm trying to eat lots of small meals every day, and making sure I get more than enough protein. Apparently, one of the secrets to making sure that twins are fully cooked is protein. The other is rest. Lots of rest just might not be in the cards for me...but I can definitely do the protein thing. I do NOT want to go early, I do NOT want to go to the hospital, I want to do this at home. So I'm making every effort. Still, I'm going to have to go down to DSS next week and apply for Medicaid. There's definitely a higher likelihood that I will end up in the hospital, and if I do, I want to be covered. This whole uninsured thing really, royally, sucks.
Thursday, October 09, 2003
Diet
When pregnant, especially with twins, it is very important to eat lots of protein and leafy green vegetables, avoid caffeine and alcohol, and drink 5000 gallons of water a day.
Today, so far, I have eaten four Krispy Kreme doughnuts, had 1 1/2 cups of coffee and a glass of water.
I'm doing it for the twins.
When pregnant, especially with twins, it is very important to eat lots of protein and leafy green vegetables, avoid caffeine and alcohol, and drink 5000 gallons of water a day.
Today, so far, I have eaten four Krispy Kreme doughnuts, had 1 1/2 cups of coffee and a glass of water.
I'm doing it for the twins.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
The Goods
I love presents. Brian's mother sent me birthday money so I could go out and buy some boots. I promptly (after finishing all of my work, that is) headed for Nordstrom's and fell upon this pair of Franco Sartos:
Style name is "Rachel." Rachel happens to be one of my top choices for girl names, I might add.
Then it was time for dinner at the fabulous Habana (previously mentioned here).
At dinner, I opened my present from Brian, which turned out to be some very chic salt and pepper mills from Williams-Sonoma, they don't show them on their website, but I assure you they are exquisite.
Jack picked out some pear-scented votive candles for me and Eli gave me a lovely rose (Brian brought me orchids AND lilies on Monday night as well). Fleurs!
All in all, a good birthday. Of course, there was the box from my mother filled with strange plastic vases wrapped in newspaper and a drab olive green shirt. Plus a copy of The Three Little Pigs, which I have to assume is for my children, but was just stuffed into my birthday box for economical reasons. Oh, and there was a clipped recipe in there as well. It could be said that my mother doesn't exactly have a flare for gift giving. I did get a lovely email from an old friend of mine, calls from 3 of my 4 sisters (one of whom moved to California a MONTH ago and did not tell me, this is how lame we have been at communicating). My dad called me first thing this morning, and my mom called this evening, so I'm feeling pretty well remembered and gifted today.
I hope Jesse and Jesse got some good presents too!
I love presents. Brian's mother sent me birthday money so I could go out and buy some boots. I promptly (after finishing all of my work, that is) headed for Nordstrom's and fell upon this pair of Franco Sartos:
Style name is "Rachel." Rachel happens to be one of my top choices for girl names, I might add.
Then it was time for dinner at the fabulous Habana (previously mentioned here).
At dinner, I opened my present from Brian, which turned out to be some very chic salt and pepper mills from Williams-Sonoma, they don't show them on their website, but I assure you they are exquisite.
Jack picked out some pear-scented votive candles for me and Eli gave me a lovely rose (Brian brought me orchids AND lilies on Monday night as well). Fleurs!
All in all, a good birthday. Of course, there was the box from my mother filled with strange plastic vases wrapped in newspaper and a drab olive green shirt. Plus a copy of The Three Little Pigs, which I have to assume is for my children, but was just stuffed into my birthday box for economical reasons. Oh, and there was a clipped recipe in there as well. It could be said that my mother doesn't exactly have a flare for gift giving. I did get a lovely email from an old friend of mine, calls from 3 of my 4 sisters (one of whom moved to California a MONTH ago and did not tell me, this is how lame we have been at communicating). My dad called me first thing this morning, and my mom called this evening, so I'm feeling pretty well remembered and gifted today.
I hope Jesse and Jesse got some good presents too!
Happy Birthday, Jesse and Jesse
Jesse Jackson is one of the few famous people who shares my birthday*. I also happen to have met him, and mentioned our shared birthday to him, which prompted him to kiss me on the cheek. Actually, I suspect he kisses a lot of the ladies on the cheek. He's that kind of guy. Dapper, debonair, smooth, very tall...just a little too much of all of that. Happy Birthday to you, Jesse, I believe you are 62 today.
I went to high school with Jesse M. He was a year older than me, and hailed from Kentucky. He had a dreamy accent, was thin and willowy and wry, made plaid shirts and jeans look romantic, and had a poetic talent which he kept mostly hidden. His father was a moderately well-known novelist. He was friendly with me, and I was of course madly in love with him, and followed him around like a lost kitten, watching in agony as he embarked on a series of relationships with other girls. Every year on our birthday we would give each other a carton of Camel Lights. Isn't that romantic? Happy Birthday to you, too, Jesse M. And thanks for letting me follow you around like that.
*Others.
Jesse Jackson is one of the few famous people who shares my birthday*. I also happen to have met him, and mentioned our shared birthday to him, which prompted him to kiss me on the cheek. Actually, I suspect he kisses a lot of the ladies on the cheek. He's that kind of guy. Dapper, debonair, smooth, very tall...just a little too much of all of that. Happy Birthday to you, Jesse, I believe you are 62 today.
I went to high school with Jesse M. He was a year older than me, and hailed from Kentucky. He had a dreamy accent, was thin and willowy and wry, made plaid shirts and jeans look romantic, and had a poetic talent which he kept mostly hidden. His father was a moderately well-known novelist. He was friendly with me, and I was of course madly in love with him, and followed him around like a lost kitten, watching in agony as he embarked on a series of relationships with other girls. Every year on our birthday we would give each other a carton of Camel Lights. Isn't that romantic? Happy Birthday to you, too, Jesse M. And thanks for letting me follow you around like that.
*Others.
Friday, October 03, 2003
A + B = 2
Yes, that's right. Say hello to Baby A and Baby B.*
Identical. Twin. Girls.
I'm going to go pass out now.
*Yes, I realize they both say "Baby A" but that's because the sono technician messed up. If you look at the picture on the right, you'll see "Baby B" printed directly on the image, just over the baby.
Yes, that's right. Say hello to Baby A and Baby B.*
Identical. Twin. Girls.
I'm going to go pass out now.
*Yes, I realize they both say "Baby A" but that's because the sono technician messed up. If you look at the picture on the right, you'll see "Baby B" printed directly on the image, just over the baby.
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