Sunday, May 21, 2006


First off, I'd like to apologize for taking such a long break from posting, I guess I just can't be tied down. I'm like a wild horse, I'll come back for a nibble every now and then, but don't expect me to be here every day.

One of the reasons for my being absent is that I was completely engrossed in "The DaVinci Code." I was trying to finish it before the movie left the theaters. At first, I enjoyed this book very much, and I have to say that what intrigued me the most was reading about all of the symbolic meaning and interpretations of art and architecture. And then tragedy struck last night. I was unable to sleep and so I decided to watch a little TV. Much to my delight, there was a program on public television that featured a professor of art history (I forget which University he was from) and he discussed in detail the liberties that Dan Brown (the author of "The DaVinci Code") took with his interpretations of the art in his book. Come to find out, everything that Brown offered about these paintings was either down right false or just didn't have any historical data to support his interpretations. Basically the only thing he said about the paintings that has any similarity with reality is the names and artists of the paintings, and even then he left a few things out.

As you can imagine, I was somewhat disappointed. Now, I'm no idiot, I'm aware that this is a fiction novel, and I'm okay with authors taking creative license with their works. I've come to the realization that there are two types of fiction novels: Those that take place in a setting that doesn't exist, and those that take place in a setting that does exist in the real world. Obviously an author of a fiction novel that takes place in an imaginary setting can do whatever they please, and as long as it is relatively connected, I'd be able to be comfortable with it. It's the other type of fiction that I have a hard time with. These novels take some truth and some fiction and mix it all up together making it very confusing for people like me. Take "The DaVinci Code" for example: I assume that the characters and plot line are fiction. I know that parts of the setting really do exist, and I know that some of the objects do exist as well, but it seems that the rest is up for grabs and this is what bothers me. My mind has a hard time living in that space in-between reality and fiction. I find myself unsure of what or whom to believe in.

It was the same way with "Memoirs of a Geisha." The author talks about interviewing this old Japanese woman about her life as a Geisha in old Japan, and then at the end of the book, he admits he made that up--she doesn't really exist. Ok, fine, but the way the Geisha are portrayed is factual--right? No. Turns out the author of "Memoirs of a Geisha" took extreme liberty and fused the lives of Geisha and Japanese prostitutes together and called it a "memoir" of a Geisha. Now, I am left wondering which of it represents the life of a Geisha and which represents the life of a Japanese prostitute? And now I have to do all kinds of research because a book I thought was a factual representation of a lifestyle I wanted to learn about turned out to be a mix of fact and fiction. And then, as if that weren't confusing enough, I still can't decide whom to believe--is the guy trying to sell a book taking too much liberty about a lifestyle he researched, or is the real Geisha trying to hide something about their secret life so they deny everything the author says?

I guess only real Geisha and Leonardo DaVinci know for sure and the rest of us have to guess. And perhaps Dan Brown is mocking us all by constantly saying in his book that "everyone loves a scandal" all the while providing a scandal for his readers while he pokes fun at the ones that believe what he presented as interpretations of DaVinci's paintings. Well, Dan, this is one fish that got away. I won't be taking your explanations for granted anymore.

I guess the thing that bothers me the most is that I was hoping to be educated while I was entertained, but it turns out that while I was being entertained, I was actually losing my education. That is cruel.

So reader beware, and as you are watching "The DaVinci Code" this summer, don't believe a word they say.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Happy Mother's Day

My 4-year-old boy, along with his preschool class sang to me and all the other mothers after class on Friday. Obviously this was for Mother's Day. Since then, I have not been able to get the image or feeling out of my mind. It never ceases to amaze me how a sweet moment like that erases every frustration or difficult moment ever experienced in the name of Motherhood (for me anyway). In fact, it has lead me to wonder about the saying that Motherhood is a thankless job. I guess I understand what they are trying to say--but I decided to have children because that's what I wanted to do and while appreciation is nice and even to a point expected at times, it isn't why I became a Mother. So I guess what I am trying to say is that sometimes these sweet and precious moments take me by surprise because too often I just accept that this is my duty and I'm happy to do it, but I'm not constantly lying in wait for those perks. So when they do come, it's like finding a part of your heart that you didn't even know was missing.

In light of that, I'd like to share a few of those moments I have had that made me feel like being a Mother is the most amazing thing anyone could ever be (and that is possibly the best kept secret of Motherhood)

--Feeling my baby son kick inside me for the first time
--Giving birth to my son and meeting him for the first time, and thinking that he was the most perfect thing on Earth.
--Giving birth to my second son, who was no longer alive, and realizing that I loved him just as much as my other son, and also realizing that he was mine forever and that I would be able to raise him at a later time.
--Giving birth to my first Daughter after going through a considerable amount of pain and anguish to have her (not counting labor) and feeling like the luckiest person ever. And immediately wanting to do it again asap.
--Holding my daughter while images of us sharing girl stuff together continuously wash over my mind's eye.
--My son always telling me that he loves me, even after I have been grouchy (sorry, my vocabulary is starting to mimic that of a preschooler).
--Getting gifts from my son, and of course when he sings to me.

I hope that you can get even a glimpse of how wonderful these memories are.

A special dedication to great women and mothers out there all over, I dearly hope that every great woman gets to experience moments like these.

Happy Mother's Day everyone.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Mission Impossible

4:26am--Baby wakes and wants to be fed

4:44am--I finish feeding baby and naively believe that I will still get some more sleep in

5:55am--I am rudely awaken by my 4-year-old who announces that he has to go potty

5:59am--He finishes going potty and I vainly instruct him to go back to bed because "it isn't time to wake up yet."

6:15am--I can't sleep because all I can hear is my 4-year-old making noise so I get out of bed and plead with him to be quiet.

6:30am--I hear the dreaded sound of his feet padding up the stairs toward my bedroom, he wants to know if he can "sleep" with me (and being the seasoned mom of a 4-year-old boy I know that this is code for "jump in your bed while you pretend you are sleeping"), I tell him he can at 7:30

6:40am--He comes back upstairs and announces that once again, he has to go potty.

6:401/2am--He further announces that he has to go poo-poos to which I defeatedly reply "ok, hurry up."

6:43am--He asks if I will check to see if he wiped well enough, I concede and he assumes the position, and I note that he did not, in fact, wipe well enough. I send him back in.

6:44am--He comes back for a second look, and no progress has been made so I decide the fastest end to this is to do it myself.

6:45am--The both of us huddle over the sink soapy handed as I instruct him to head back down and back into bed because it still isn't time to wake up yet.

7:04am--Baby begins cooing, and being the seasoned mother of a 4 month old baby, I know this to mean I have less than a half hour before she demands to be fed. I desperately hope that I will be able to sleep during this time period.

7:09am--cooing gets louder, I can't sleep.

7:17am--cooing gets even louder, I still can't sleep.

7:22am--The Cooing his escalated into an all out cry, I finally agree to feed her.

7:221/2am--Before I get the chance to feed Baby, 4-year-old comes up and asks if he can wake up yet. I agree that it is time for him to "wake up" and I proceed to grumpily get him his orange juice and bread and turn on disney channel for him.

7:25am--I go in to feed an irritated Baby.

7:40am--she finishes, and I briefly consider not changing her diaper in an effort to get more sleep. This is ridiculous, I tell myself, and proceed to change her. By now I can barely move my appendages.

7:49am--baby is fed and changed, 4-year-old is happily watching cartoons, I devise a plan to get some sleep: Perhaps if I lay baby in bed with me, she can play happily while I snooze. This sounds good enough to me and has been known to work in the past, so I proceed.

7:50am--She lays down and I get under the covers and begin to relax

7:51am--baby begins fussing, she is clearly not happy with the plan.

7:52am--I decide to go to plan B, Baby swings in swing while I sleep.

7:55am--Baby begins happily swinging, I get back under the covers.

7:56am--Baby begins fussing, she is clearly not happy with plan B. In vain, I demand to know what is wrong with her, and what she could possibly want. I take her out of the swing and hold her in my lap requiring me to sit up and therefore not get any sleep. She, of course, is very happy with this plan, I am not.

7:59am--I decide to try and press my luck and shoot for plan C: baby lays on baby toy mat and proceeds to be entertained while I sleep.

8:00am--I begin setting up baby mat right next to failed baby swing, 4-year-old bounds upstairs. Without looking at him, I warn him to stay downstairs. He announces that he wants to get his coloring book and color. I give in against my better judgment in hopes that I might still get some sleep.

8:03am--baby begins to play happily, I get back under my covers.

8:33am--Baby begins to fuss, she is clearly not happy with plan C. I beg her once again to tell me what she wants, and I decide she might be tired as this is usually when she begins to get tired.

8:34am--with anewed hope, I put baby in her crib. She is quiet--too quiet. I get back in bed and recount with deadly fear that usually when she goes in her crib quietly, she doesn't last long.

8:44am--Sure enough, she begins fussing. Then, I begin fussing. Fussing leads to crying--for both of us.

8:45am--I tell myself that she is hungry and decide to feed her again. She is happy with this plan and begins to eat.

8:48am--4-year-old comes up and wants to know when breakfast is, I tell him he has to wait until I finish feeding baby. After he climbs all over me and baby, he decides to go back downstairs.

9:06am--baby sleepily finishes eating, I naively think she will take her nap now, so I set her back in her crib. She begins screaming, she is clearly not happy with this idea. Being the seasoned mother of a 4 month old that I am, I know she needs to sleep so I let her cry.

9:07am--I foolishly get back into bed and cover my head with another pillow.

9:15am--4-year-old bounds upstairs again demanding his breakfast. Realizing I promised him, I grumpily get him some cereal.

9:20am--on my way back to bed, I feel bad for baby crying and decide against my better judgment to try to rock her to sleep. To her delight, I enter her bedroom and pick her up. She is happy in my arms, but not for long.

9:35am--she begins fussing again, I regret getting her out.

9:36am--Knowing that she is overdue for her 9:00 nap, I decide to let her cry in hopes that she will fall asleep. I put her in her crib, she is clearly not happy with that plan.

9:38am--I crawl back under my covers and reason that if I put a pillow over my head I will be able to sleep peacefully for a few minutes.

9:39am--I realize I am running out of air so I pull off my pillow, baby is still crying.

9:41am--In a desperate cry for help, I call my husband who is out of town, I naively believe that he will know what to do. He empathizes with me, but that doesn't help me get some sleep so I say a very sad good-bye.

9:50am--Determined to have my baby take her nap, I decide that the only way I'll get some peace is to go downstairs and watch some TV to drown out the crying.

9:51am--I change the channel from disney to Regis and Kelly and watch a show about what mothers want for mother's Day. I begin dreaming of getting some sleep for mother's day...

9:55am--I am jarred back into reality by an angry 4-year-old who has finished his breakfast and wants to know why I changed the channel. I give in and change it back to Disney.

9:57am--baby is still crying

9:58am--knowing full well that I am in this too deep to go back now, I know I must stay downstairs or I will go crazy, so I begin writing my blog.

11:07am--I finish my blog, baby is still crying. I give up and decide to get her and get dressed.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Channeling My Inner Debra

Yes that's right, I went red! But really it's more of an auburn. If you are anything like me, when you hear of someone dying their hair red you immediately think of either orange or that weird purpley-red. The latter is what was flashing through my head all afternoon as Rachel was coloring my hair. It was indeed very scary. I guess it's safe to say that I am an adventurous person, I have to admit that this is not the first time I have made a hair decision and then sat biting my nails off waiting to see what effect it would have on the way I looked.

This time it turned out great--I love it! Perhaps if I get brave, I will post a picture later. I think auburn does me well, I have a good complexion for it. Please note that I did not say that I have a good complexion, I have a good complexion for red toned hair. I think that my face actually looks less red and more tan with my auburn hair. I wouldn't have thought so either but it seems to be true. Also my green eyes stand out more.

I think I am going to follow in Debra Messing's lead and stick with red for a while.

oh, and by the way--I didn't cut bangs. Whew! I dodged that bullet!

Monday, May 08, 2006

Decisions, Decisions

One of the better things in life is a hair appointment, and one of the more frustrating things in life is trying to decide what to do with your hair appointment. My hair appointment is tomorrow.

My hair is at one of those crucial times in its life: Medium length. Medium length is almost a curse. Long hair you keep for a long time because it took you so dang long to grow, and short hair you are almost always trying to grow out. Medium hair, however, is in that annoying middle ground. You haven't made the commitment you make with long hair, so it's easy to say "chop it off," and yet you can't help but think if only I could be just a little more patient.

As hard as the question "to cut or not to cut?" may be to answer, I've actually got that one figured out, it's the color issue that has me up at night. You see, I have a thing with the length of my hair, it is directly related to my weight. I don't feel comfortable in short hair when I am overweight, I feel like it makes me look rounder. Whether or not this is true does not matter, because I wouldn't be able to get over it even if it weren't.

Anyway, back to the color issue. My hair is naturally brown, but it isn't pretty enough in its natural state to leave alone so I usually color it. Mostly I highlight it to match the color I was as a three-year-old girl witch was golden with a touch of blonde. This is a good color for me, but lately I have become bored of highlights, mainly due to the gross abuse they have taken from incompetent colorists, and partly due to the fact that everyone and their significant other has blond highlights in their hair, and lastly due to my disdain for retouching my roots every two seconds. So--ok, no highlights right? Not necessarily. The other option is to do a full color change which I can only see going one of a couple of ways: Just a touch richer than my natural color, or red (don't mock, Debra Messing did it). But, the problems with that aren't much better. For instance, color fades and roots grow. I guess that means that I have to keep it up no matter what I do, and that leaves me at square one. Darn, I really thought blogging this out would help me make my decision, but alas, it has possibly made it harder.

Oh, and did I mention that I am also considering bangs? *Sigh* I am always a mess right before my hair appointments. I do think I am ready for something different though which leaves me no choice but to scan the internet for celeb pictures in hopes of finding some inspiration.

Wish me luck, and if anyone has any input (PLEASE) let your voice be heard and leave a comment, I will check them before I go tomorrow and I would love to hear what anyone might think.

Well, I'm sure you will all be waiting with bated breath to hear of my decision, I promise not to keep you in too much suspense.

Ok, my turn is over.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Back by Popular Demand

Don't you just hate it when people invite you to view their blog and then they stop writing in it? And furthermore, don't you just hate it when you start a blog then invite people to read it and no one comments on it?

But what I really hate is all the people that have to offer you a credit card at the end of your purchase. And then they get all pissy if you cut them off during their ultra-rehearsed "you'll save three dollars" speech and tell them no (you know, as if this couldn't possibly be something you hear all the time). I feel like using iron on lettering to make myself a shirt that says "no I do not want your credit card." The problem with that however is that I would have to wear it every time I shopped and that would just be disgusting.