Aw, Jill and Kevin apparently headed straight to the divorce court (and took some dance lessons). Good-hearted parody fun!
This past weekend we attended Stanford Family Day at Dodger Stadium. I could pretend that it's rewarding to connect with alumni in such an LA institution, but in actuality no one talks to each other because they are too busy stuffing themselves with all-you-can-eat Dodger Dogs and crudites.
The Dodgers played the Marlins and got their butts undeniably whooped. We stayed until the 5th inning when the score was 9-0, which was in stark contrast to last year when Manny hit a home run on his first at-bat and the rest of the team actually knew how to field. Still, the kids could only handle 3 innings last year, so at least we have improved, and at this rate we can probably watch an entire game by the time they graduate high school.
There was another stark contrast: how much the kids had grown since last year.
Can you guys see any differences? I think both kids lost a little bit of their baby cheeks. Also, Isaac's face has developed some more dimension and Emi looks like she got a nose job. I swear to you though, even when living in southern CA, dangerously close to Orange County, I will not allow Emi to have a nose job until she is at least 8.
Which reminds me of this hilarious video:
I am in a bit of a funk. Emily has full control over our household now...we're trying to get it all back together but her powers are strong.
Here is a diagram of what goes on inside my head at any given moment nowadays (click to enlarge):
I hope everyone is leading a happier existence than we are. We'll get back to our regularly scheduled program soon enough, I hope.
I was prepared for this to be cheesy, but much to my surprise I was bawling by the end of it. There is just so much joy and love in the air, you can't help but get caught up in the celebration. Best wishes, Jill and Kevin, in your new life together! I hope every day is that happy!
So sweet! *sniff* I need a hug.
This is a great little music geek exercise. I really like how the survey instructions COMMAND you to be clever.
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"
Pick your Artist: Radiohead
Are you a male or female?
Yes I Am
Subterranean Homesick Alien
How do you feel:
Describe where you currently live:
If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
How To Disappear Completely
Your favorite form of transportation:
Your best friend is:
Inside My Head
You and your best friends are:
What's the weather like:
High and Dry
Favorite time of day:
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Bullet Proof...I Wish I Was
What is life to you:
Like Spinning Plates
Your last relationship:
I Might Be Wrong
What is the best advice you have to give:
Stop Whispering Start Shouting
Thought for the Day:
Dollars & Cents
How I would like to die:
My soul's present condition:
Down is the New Up
Most Faithful Companion:
You and Whose Army?
My oh my, where has July gone? The first half of the month has flown by so quickly, I actually considered eating some meat that had an expiration date of June 30 yesterday! Good thing I checked the calendar; Tim is out of town and both my parents hurt their backs, so a trip to the emergency room would have been difficult to orchestrate.
Anyway, the reason why the days are blending together is we have started Operation No Pacifier. Emily's new school had a speech pathologist come over and do a quick run-down on the kids, and Emily failed with non-flying (crawling?) colors. I mean, the lady wrote a novel about all the problems she found. The most disturbing one was that Emily has an open bite, where her front teeth do not meet when her back teeth do, and that is due to extreme pacifier and sippy cup sucking. So we went cold-turkey that evening, and although Emily's fine most of the day, when it comes to sleep, she rebels, wailing and gnashing her teeth in the night, just total Apocalypse Child. It's actually quite horrifying. Showtimes are generally at 1PM (naptime), 9PM, 1AM, and 4:30 AM.
But every morning she wakes up with the sun kissing her peach-fuzzed cheeks, chirpy and smiley and cuddly, as if nothing in the world was wrong. This sadistic punchline from God has been overwhelming me psychologically, and I've felt like I'm about to crack for a few days now, and today, I did.
The morning started out normally. Isaac wanted eggs and nectarines for breakfast, and I obliged him while Emily munched on her cheese toast. Isaac gobbled everything down and asked for another nectarine, and after I cut it up he decided he wasn't hungry anymore. Annoying, but whatever, both kids were in a good mood so I didn't care. We left to go to school, and when I came back, the leftover nectarines were COVERED with fruit flies. I'm talking a hundred of them, crawling in the sticky sweetness, FUCKING EACH OTHER like there was no tomorrow, just one big drunken hedonistic orgy on the plate. And I don't know why, but this offended me so much I grabbed the spatula I used to cook Isaac's eggs with and just started whacking away at the plate, crushing fruit flies into what quickly became nectarine jelly over and over again, then swinging the spatula around in the air trying to smack the ones that flew away, chasing them around the house.
Was it my most dignified moment? No, but it felt good. And I chuckled at the notion that if I was driven to murderous rage over the sex lives of Drosophila melanogaster (I totally pulled that out of my ass from high school biology, w00t), I pity the fools who will try to date my kids one day. They better watch where they keep their spatulas, baby.
1. Japan has weird post-apocalyptic nanotech insects.
2. We are a 3-futon family. What that means is Tim and I get crammed onto one while the kids roll around their futons, then onto the bare tatami, then eventually crash into the shoji screen doors, waking up the entire house including the soul of Tim's grandmother living in the shrine closet behind us.
3. It is never too early to educate your children on the atrocities done by the Japanese imperialists in Korea. Look at our poor little Emily weeping at the Emperor's Gate over her conflicted ancestry!
Actually, Emily's misery was entirely her own. She was apparently so traumatized by this point, she was clinging onto her pacifier, blankie, AND a stuffed animal for comfort at all times, and could not even bear to stand on her own two feet anywhere. Every time someone spoke to her in Japanese she would bawl. Very embarrassing for us, but there was really nothing we could do at that point other than drag her wailing ass with us everywhere.
4. Japan has no lack for cute-crazy-quirky things to distract you with.
Even the cemeteries TOTTEMO quirky DESU!!!!!!!!!!
5. Japanese people never exactly mean what they exactly say. For
example, from the beginning, my MIL almost always introduced me with
"Doesn't she have nice skin? And she's so smart, you can talk to her
about anything." I recently found out what she actually meant is that
I'm ugly and lazy; like if I was actually good-looking she would say I
was beautiful, not point out the only non-vomit-inducing characteristic
about me, and the reason why I'm so smart and good at conversation is
because I sit on my ass all day reading shit and not catering to people's needs.
A more positive example occurred when we were at Shibuya Station to board the Narita Express. We had 40 minutes before the train departed (they run every hour), so Mo, a friend of Tim's, offered to take me shopping to buy some souvenirs since up to that point we hadn't had the opportunity. I asked for Hello Kitty, and she said "We have 10-15 minutes to get there, then 10-15 minutes shopping, then 10-15 minutes to get back." That sounded really tight to me, so I asked her if she was absolutely positive we have time, and she cheerfully said "YES! Of course!"
So off we went, through the maze underground, then above ground, until we arrived at the shop, and I shopped my little heart out. I asked after what seemed like 5 minutes if we needed to leave, and I was always greeted with a confident smile and a "We have time!" When I finally checked out, Mo was frantically texting her mom, who was with Tim and the kids back at the station. When I asked what was wrong, she smiled and said, "We must run." It took us 15 minutes walking at a brisk pace to navigate to the store, now we had less than 10 minutes to make it back. Holy Jeebus. I actually RAN, folks...ran through the turnstiles, past salarymen who cracked up at the 100-kg behemoth dragging $200 worth of Hello Kitty crap behind her, clutching onto the waistband of her falling jeans, while Mo, in hot pants and kitten heels urged me to "run a little fast, please." Once we reached the platform with a minute to spare, I had to stop, I was so winded. I glared at the conductor, who glared back, waving his white-gloved hand in a "HURRY UP HEIFER" motion, daring him to close the doors on me. He didn't. Tim was cracking up too hard to lecture me, and I spent most of the ride trying not to vomit. This was a hard-earned lesson to not trust a word Japanese people say, and helped me resolve to start some kind of exercise routine if I got back home in one piece.
Yesterday was awesome. I took the day off because Isaac's daycare was on vacation, and we had a very decadent, exciting day!
11:30 Sushi lunch with Uncle Django
1:00 Isaac played at our neighbor's house while Daddy and Uncle Django played "How Many Ivy League Graduates Does It Take To Get a Squirrel Trapped in the House Out of Said House." Maggie apparently had some company over while we were at lunch, and this poor squirrel was just throwing itself at the windows over and over again while we were standing and talking outside. We heard the clangs about a dozen times when my brain reminded me that Maggie is not tall enough to reach the windows, and my suspicions turned into all-out horror when I saw the squirrel's body splayed all over the glass for a millisecond before sliding down like Scrat from "Ice Age." Tim and Django whooped and hollered at our visitor until it flew out the front door, poor thing.
2:30 Isaac and I headed off to South Coast Plaza for some carousel rides, ice cream, pajama shopping, and fountain gazing. He did so well, in fact, that I took the chance and got made over at shu uemura and gave him my iPhone to keep him company on a lip-shaped couch. He decided to take pictures of the "weird stuff" in the store; here are some choice shots:
5:30 We headed home with some French bakery goodies and fresh strawberries for a cute little indoor picnic. Emi ended up biting the tips off all the strawberries, but graciously allowed us to partake in her leftovers. She also hoovered down a chocolate croissant like nobody's business. A dinner fit for a diva.
7:00 Discovered this gem. What can I say, other than it's about time a documentary of my life arrived on the silver screen:
9:00 Felt a little guilty about having too much fun, so I stayed up to do 4 loads of laundry. Still felt wired afterwards, so I popped a Vicodin at midnight and commenced having the weirdest dreams, but they helped me sort out some of the worries in my brain.