Trip Update Days 1 and 2:
We left for Charlotte on Tuesday afternoon, leaving ourselves plenty of time to get there, park in long-term parking, take the shuttle to the airport, and check in early for an international flight. The trip down was uneventful, right up until the last moment. We were having some difficulties figuring out which of the many long-term lots were open, since all appeared to say closed, so we drove a short way past them in order to turn around and try again.
Unfortunately, as we were about to turn, we were rear-ended. Of course we were.
The husband was looking over his shoulder in preparation to turn, I was looking ahead to check for oncoming traffic, and Baby J was, thankfully, still buckled into his car seat. A minivan (driven by a pregnant woman who was NOT happy) slammed into a smaller car which then slammed into us with a HUGE and sickening thud. We were stopped, ready to turn, thankfully, so we didn't move much, and the husband quickly turned off the car and got out, while I got out to check on Baby J who was screaming, mostly in fright as I quickly determined. The guy behind us yelled at the husband that this was a double yellow line and you couldn't pass (??) which was irrelevant since we weren't. The minivan woman drove off to a nearby parking lot while a nice man who was uninvolved stopped and came over to see if we were alright.
Mr. Nice Man offered me his cell phone since we had left ours at home (note to self: bring cell phones even if planning to turn them off for the duration of the trip) and I called the insurance company to get things started. The police arrived and the officer in charge came up and said "So you were stopped, this other car hit you, and that's the third car that caused the accident?" Which was exactly what we wanted to hear. We explained our predicament (needing to leave for London) and he rushed through getting all the info, gave us a website to refer to for details and let us go on our way. Sadly, our insurance company took longer than he did to put much less info in the computer so we were standing there using all Mr. Nice Man's minutes and time. However, as he informed me when I asked, he had just flown in from Minneapolis for business the next day and had nothing to do today so it was fine with him to wait. See? That's why he gets capitalized!
So, soon-ish, we were back to parking and hoping our sore necks weren't really that sore. (second note to self: always, always, even if it seems silly, give yourself the extra time recommended by the airport. You never know when you'll need it.)We checked in, ate some fried comfort food (we were still pretty shaky), and checked in again (for passport control, they said). Our flight was 1/4 full, so we had loads of space, which we used in shifts for sleeping when Baby J decided he could do so. Unfortunately, he decided for several hours in the middle of the plane ride (as well as last night in the flat) that he really didn't want to sleep, so it was a rough ride for all of us. The space helped, however, and we learned some tricks for our return trip (which I am trying to avoid dreading even as I type).
Some 7 hours later, we arrived in Gatwick, which likes to welcome international travelers with a 5K walk to baggage claim. Omigosh, it was far! Customs was non-existent and immigration (or emigration? I never get those right...) was pleasant and fast. We then got on our cold weather gear and headed for the train into London, which arrived quickly. We were right in front of the handicap access car, which turned out to be the perfect place for the stroller (oh, excuse me, buggy). And then we got to Victoria Station in a jiffy and were ready to catch our bus, the last leg of our trip.
Or so we thought. Turns out, our bus directions were a bit faulty and the bus driver claimed to have never heard of our destination or that is was on another route, but we were already on and decided to just take the bus into the general area we wanted to go after confirming with a lovely local woman that this was a good idea. After we got what we thought was closeish, we got off and then went immediately to buy a very detailed map (third note to self: always bring a map). We found that we were, indeed, relatively close, but we needed to walk (uphill) for several blocks to find our way to our destination. We did, cheerily, since at least now we were sure where we were and the end was in sight, and got into the centre with no problem. We did manage to climb all the wrong stairs (5 flights) at first but then got ourselves sorted and climbed the right stairs (5 1/2 more flights), lugging Baby J and our bags behind us.
That afternoon, we got settled (the parents aren't due back from Wales until tonight), unpacked completely, walked around the neighborhood to check it out (I am going to have to do some shopping in London, it appears), at some Indian food (light samosas and chicken tikka masala with coconut--yummy) from the place around the corner, picked up some groceries (we were drinking all my parents' ginger ale at an alarming rate), gave Baby J a much needed bath and put him to bed, and then went right to sleep ourselves. The night was rough for me since J woke up at all sorts of times throughout, but eventually both he and I got some rest and woke up at a decent time in the morning, meaning that (we hope) tonight will go much more smoothly.
Cheerio, everyone!
Showing posts with label lists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lists. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
So restless nights
Lists, lists, lists! I feel like I have been living lists the last few weeks or so. First, there were the "luau prep," "luau menu", and "house cleaning for the party" lists (the husband particularly enjoyed this last one). Then came multiple "trip shopping" lists. Then, the "do before we leave" lists. And now the "London master packing" list. The husband asked me last night if I had a to pack at the last minute list and I said, umm, no, I have a master packing list. When everything is checked off and packed, we can leave. Clearly, you do not understand the concept of MASTER lists. They are the ur lists that encapsulate all others. Duh!
So the packing, aided by the list, continues apace. So far, so good: all our clothes, J's diapers, and various other accouterments are in one large bag that currently weighs under 50 pounds. There is, in fact, very little left to put in this bag. However, should we be too close to the limit or (heaven forbid!) over it, I am also packing a small, collapsible duffle in the large bag's top pocket, into which I will transfer two packing cubes in about 30 seconds when we check our luggage. Then, when we get to London, I will transfer everything back in another 30 seconds at customs or baggage claim, and we will still be imminently mobile. I cannot sing enough praises for packing cubes, by the way. We got ours here on the recommendation of a traveling with kids blog I read, and they are fabulous. We each have one medium and one large cube filled with our clothes and, in J's case, some diapers and sundries. Each cube holds two layers of clothes and keeps the larger bag totally organized. They make me so happy, I can hardly stand it!
The rest of our equipment will come in our carry-ons, two backpacks (for sure) and a diaper bag (perhaps--this stuff may get parceled into the two backpacks instead). Our house is full of stacks right now: a stack of the clothes we're wearing on the plane, a stack of J's carry on essentials, a stack of toiletries ready to go into the big bag when we finalize the collection (we're in some negotiations over hair products), a stack of snacks both adult and child, a stack of unmated socks (discovered while doing mountains of laundry), a stack of important papers, stacks upon stacks upon stacks. It's lovely, trust me!
Stay tuned....
So the packing, aided by the list, continues apace. So far, so good: all our clothes, J's diapers, and various other accouterments are in one large bag that currently weighs under 50 pounds. There is, in fact, very little left to put in this bag. However, should we be too close to the limit or (heaven forbid!) over it, I am also packing a small, collapsible duffle in the large bag's top pocket, into which I will transfer two packing cubes in about 30 seconds when we check our luggage. Then, when we get to London, I will transfer everything back in another 30 seconds at customs or baggage claim, and we will still be imminently mobile. I cannot sing enough praises for packing cubes, by the way. We got ours here on the recommendation of a traveling with kids blog I read, and they are fabulous. We each have one medium and one large cube filled with our clothes and, in J's case, some diapers and sundries. Each cube holds two layers of clothes and keeps the larger bag totally organized. They make me so happy, I can hardly stand it!
The rest of our equipment will come in our carry-ons, two backpacks (for sure) and a diaper bag (perhaps--this stuff may get parceled into the two backpacks instead). Our house is full of stacks right now: a stack of the clothes we're wearing on the plane, a stack of J's carry on essentials, a stack of toiletries ready to go into the big bag when we finalize the collection (we're in some negotiations over hair products), a stack of snacks both adult and child, a stack of unmated socks (discovered while doing mountains of laundry), a stack of important papers, stacks upon stacks upon stacks. It's lovely, trust me!
Stay tuned....
Friday, January 16, 2009
Measure a year
I've had some complaints about the lack of pictures on my blog, so I'm repenting. Here, then, is a year in the life of Baby J, in reverse chronological order (because I'm just repenting, not excelling) (captions below the picture in question):
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December 2008: This is Christmas morning, after J's early morning meltdown and before his bliss was complete with the acquisition of his fabulous kitchen paraphernalia.
November 2008: This picture was taken in our front yard (notice the lack of snow). Here J is trying to eat a leaf before I can snatch it away. This particular smile is one he flashes often when he's being naughty and you have caught him.
October 2008: This was his second of two Halloween costumes. Our memory card suffered a fatal error on the night of the first Halloween party, so we missed getting a shot of his clown get up (very cute, though his head looked huge in the pompomed stocking cap). The second costume was all the husband's vision and came together in one afternoon after a quick trip to Goodwill. The husband is also responsible for the very authentic hair!
September 2008: Baby J goes to his first football game at the local high school (to watch one of the Seminary boys play). It was unseasonably cold that night and then it started to rain, so we left early, after it became clear that the one blanket we had brought was not going to be enough.
August 2008: J was late to solid foods, the product of laziness on my part and some travel in July, but he took to them more or less well, particularly sweet potatoes, which he is modeling here.
July 2008: From the time he learned to sit up in June until he could crawl, MUCH later, J would spend much of his day here, on a quilt in the living room by his basket of toys. He has always been able to amuse himself for unbabylike lengths of time.
June 2008: Shortly before this, J learned how to pout, all on his own. He was in a rotten, fragile mood this day, so I just got ready to catch the pout that I knew was coming before the meltdown that was sure to follow.
May/June 2008: My mother came to save the day at the beginning of the summer term when I had to go back to work to finish out my contract. As you can see, J was horribly disappointed with this situation!
April 2008: This was just a random day on our porch. I like this picture because it chronicles the short time J spent in the Bumbo chair before his thighs were too chubby and because he looks like some sweaty old man in his too small onesie with that strained expression on his face. In fact, he's trying to escape the Bumbo by hurling his torso backwards as hard as he can.
March 2008: In the early months, we were still going out to eat a lot what with the two paychecks and the very portable baby. This picture was taken on the porch of a restaurant called Taco Boy down the road at Folly Beach. There were no tables inside and so we sat out, but it got, once again, a lot colder than we expected, so here J is bundled in all the blankets we had in the car and all the clothes we could find to put on him from the diaper bag.
February 2008: I don't know how many hours J spent like this, swaddled in his Miracle Blanket, bouncing vigorously in his bouncy chair as we tried to put him to sleep. Sadly, too much of that time was spent with him looking just like this: cranky and awake.
January 2008: Because of his jaundice, J spent extra time at the hospital under the lights. Because of his size and his protective eye gear, he looked like a giant vacationing among the other tiny little sick babies in the nursery.
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December 2008: This is Christmas morning, after J's early morning meltdown and before his bliss was complete with the acquisition of his fabulous kitchen paraphernalia.
November 2008: This picture was taken in our front yard (notice the lack of snow). Here J is trying to eat a leaf before I can snatch it away. This particular smile is one he flashes often when he's being naughty and you have caught him.
October 2008: This was his second of two Halloween costumes. Our memory card suffered a fatal error on the night of the first Halloween party, so we missed getting a shot of his clown get up (very cute, though his head looked huge in the pompomed stocking cap). The second costume was all the husband's vision and came together in one afternoon after a quick trip to Goodwill. The husband is also responsible for the very authentic hair!
September 2008: Baby J goes to his first football game at the local high school (to watch one of the Seminary boys play). It was unseasonably cold that night and then it started to rain, so we left early, after it became clear that the one blanket we had brought was not going to be enough.
August 2008: J was late to solid foods, the product of laziness on my part and some travel in July, but he took to them more or less well, particularly sweet potatoes, which he is modeling here.
July 2008: From the time he learned to sit up in June until he could crawl, MUCH later, J would spend much of his day here, on a quilt in the living room by his basket of toys. He has always been able to amuse himself for unbabylike lengths of time.
June 2008: Shortly before this, J learned how to pout, all on his own. He was in a rotten, fragile mood this day, so I just got ready to catch the pout that I knew was coming before the meltdown that was sure to follow.
May/June 2008: My mother came to save the day at the beginning of the summer term when I had to go back to work to finish out my contract. As you can see, J was horribly disappointed with this situation!
April 2008: This was just a random day on our porch. I like this picture because it chronicles the short time J spent in the Bumbo chair before his thighs were too chubby and because he looks like some sweaty old man in his too small onesie with that strained expression on his face. In fact, he's trying to escape the Bumbo by hurling his torso backwards as hard as he can.
March 2008: In the early months, we were still going out to eat a lot what with the two paychecks and the very portable baby. This picture was taken on the porch of a restaurant called Taco Boy down the road at Folly Beach. There were no tables inside and so we sat out, but it got, once again, a lot colder than we expected, so here J is bundled in all the blankets we had in the car and all the clothes we could find to put on him from the diaper bag.
February 2008: I don't know how many hours J spent like this, swaddled in his Miracle Blanket, bouncing vigorously in his bouncy chair as we tried to put him to sleep. Sadly, too much of that time was spent with him looking just like this: cranky and awake.
January 2008: Because of his jaundice, J spent extra time at the hospital under the lights. Because of his size and his protective eye gear, he looked like a giant vacationing among the other tiny little sick babies in the nursery.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Leaving on a jet plane
On the way to his study abroad assignment in London, my father got snowed in at the Paris Airport. A day later, he made it to the UK...only his luggage had gone missing. Luckily for him, he'd packed all his valuable (and essential to teaching) books and papers in his carry on. Unluckily for him, he'd packed all his valuable (but not wearable) books and papers in his carry on. So now, he's making do with the OxFam thrift store and the promise that, if necessary (if his bag never shows up), my mother will bring him another suitcase full of clothes when she comes. In 10 days.
I've arrived at my destination enough times sans luggage that I have become a travel/packing Nazi of sorts.
Rule #1: Only check if you absolutely must (sadly for my father, he had no other choice). As the French official said to my father in one of his many phone calls with the airline, "But Monseiur, there are over 5000 missing bags at the Paris Airport." Indeed!
Rule #2: Whether you check or not, always carry a COMPLETE change of clothes in your carry on. In the beginning of our marriage, the husband would try to get by with just an extra t-shirt, but I would never let that fly. What good is an extra t-shirt going to do you if you have to be in the same underwear for 3 or 4 days before your luggage finally materializes or you break down and buy new clothes?! The last time this happened to me, I was in Boston for a conference. I had packed a full change of clothes but not something in which I would have felt comfortable presenting a paper. Luckily for me, the husband was going to join me the next day, so I called home and had him throw a skirt in his carry on (and ran around like a crazy person in the Gap below the hotel looking for a suitable shirt to buy, just in case I had to, which I didn't, which is good because there was very little suitable that season). My bags did arrive the next day, so I was fine, but it taught me that at times I needed to be even more strategic about my carry on outfit selection.
Rule #3 leads us to our next big adventure, our own jaunt to London. We are flying direct, the third rule for travel, the one I break most often, finances and hubs being what they are. Thank goodness, but now I am packing a complete change of clothes for me and for Baby J, along with the essentials to save us if we do have the misfortune of losing our luggage. Of course, as my mother pointed out, the UK is not the third world, but I really don't want to have to spend my barely first world money on pricey replacements for our things if I don't have to.
Rule #4 is really a corollary to the second rule: if you do end up checking, carry a detailed list of the contents of your checked bag in your carry on. The key here is DETAIL. You will never be able to get reimbursed for the full value of the contents of your luggage, but a detailed list helps and shames them into being more forthcoming with the cash should the need arise. This list is also useful for myriad reasons, actually: for customs, it helps remind you if you need to declare something you may have forgotten; for security checks, it helps you see if anything is missing after your friendly TSA agents have rifled through your things; and, in the case of damaged luggage, it helps you figure out if everything made it. Not once but three times have I found my luggage on the carousel with a broken zipper or an outright hole, shoes or toiletries trailing along forlornly behind my bag (this was the result of an ill-fated luggage set my parents bought me for graduation, which then spent the next few years studiously self-destructing on trip after trip until I finally threw away the last remaining piece (whose zipper had long since been replaced by self-installed snaps anyway).
Rule #5, therefore, tells you to buy the best luggage you can afford and make it as distinctive as possible. In grad school, I lived near the L.L. Bean outlet and bought for pennies a fluorescent green medium duffle that someone had monogramed with the letters "ZK" and then returned. That bag is still in great shape, it being made expensively, even after having flown all over the world with me, and it has the added bonus of being utterly unforgettable, totally easy to spot in a sea of bags, and completely simple to describe when lost. (I do often have to explain why ZK, but that's a small price to pay for found luggage.)
I've arrived at my destination enough times sans luggage that I have become a travel/packing Nazi of sorts.
Rule #1: Only check if you absolutely must (sadly for my father, he had no other choice). As the French official said to my father in one of his many phone calls with the airline, "But Monseiur, there are over 5000 missing bags at the Paris Airport." Indeed!
Rule #2: Whether you check or not, always carry a COMPLETE change of clothes in your carry on. In the beginning of our marriage, the husband would try to get by with just an extra t-shirt, but I would never let that fly. What good is an extra t-shirt going to do you if you have to be in the same underwear for 3 or 4 days before your luggage finally materializes or you break down and buy new clothes?! The last time this happened to me, I was in Boston for a conference. I had packed a full change of clothes but not something in which I would have felt comfortable presenting a paper. Luckily for me, the husband was going to join me the next day, so I called home and had him throw a skirt in his carry on (and ran around like a crazy person in the Gap below the hotel looking for a suitable shirt to buy, just in case I had to, which I didn't, which is good because there was very little suitable that season). My bags did arrive the next day, so I was fine, but it taught me that at times I needed to be even more strategic about my carry on outfit selection.
Rule #3 leads us to our next big adventure, our own jaunt to London. We are flying direct, the third rule for travel, the one I break most often, finances and hubs being what they are. Thank goodness, but now I am packing a complete change of clothes for me and for Baby J, along with the essentials to save us if we do have the misfortune of losing our luggage. Of course, as my mother pointed out, the UK is not the third world, but I really don't want to have to spend my barely first world money on pricey replacements for our things if I don't have to.
Rule #4 is really a corollary to the second rule: if you do end up checking, carry a detailed list of the contents of your checked bag in your carry on. The key here is DETAIL. You will never be able to get reimbursed for the full value of the contents of your luggage, but a detailed list helps and shames them into being more forthcoming with the cash should the need arise. This list is also useful for myriad reasons, actually: for customs, it helps remind you if you need to declare something you may have forgotten; for security checks, it helps you see if anything is missing after your friendly TSA agents have rifled through your things; and, in the case of damaged luggage, it helps you figure out if everything made it. Not once but three times have I found my luggage on the carousel with a broken zipper or an outright hole, shoes or toiletries trailing along forlornly behind my bag (this was the result of an ill-fated luggage set my parents bought me for graduation, which then spent the next few years studiously self-destructing on trip after trip until I finally threw away the last remaining piece (whose zipper had long since been replaced by self-installed snaps anyway).
Rule #5, therefore, tells you to buy the best luggage you can afford and make it as distinctive as possible. In grad school, I lived near the L.L. Bean outlet and bought for pennies a fluorescent green medium duffle that someone had monogramed with the letters "ZK" and then returned. That bag is still in great shape, it being made expensively, even after having flown all over the world with me, and it has the added bonus of being utterly unforgettable, totally easy to spot in a sea of bags, and completely simple to describe when lost. (I do often have to explain why ZK, but that's a small price to pay for found luggage.)
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Summer in the city
Here are a few of my favorite things, all of which today are brought to you by the letter H.
Hulu.com: I've sung the praises of this website again and again, but my latest declaration of love comes because I just discovered that, in the wasteland that is December television, Hulu has all the episodes of Firefly available. What, haven't seen Firefly yet? Well then, get yourself to Hulu right quick and enjoy the wild wild west meets China meets sci fi shoot 'em up with clever dialogue, quirky plots, and wonky special effects. Love it!
Hydrocodone: The headache I alluded to on Saturday turned into a full-blown migraine Sunday night that nothing was touching. Finally, the husband offered me some of his hydrocodone left over from his nose surgery. Now, don't get me wrong, the husband NEVER does this. He is against sharing medications, like a good pharmacist should be. But he is also against my writing in pain, like a good husband should be. So he helped me. First one made me tired but didn't touch the pain. Second one made me loopy and wrapped the pain in a big fluffy blanket. Aaaahhh....
Hot water: And the next morning, hot water brought me back to life after the drugs did their work and then some. (And I know hot is an adjective, but this isn't a game of scattergories so I get to make the rules.)
Hugs: J has learned how to give hugs and (less biting) kisses spontaneously. He will hug me regularly when I pick him up after naps but then also randomly every once in a while when he feels moved to do so. It's ADORABLE!
Hulu.com: I've sung the praises of this website again and again, but my latest declaration of love comes because I just discovered that, in the wasteland that is December television, Hulu has all the episodes of Firefly available. What, haven't seen Firefly yet? Well then, get yourself to Hulu right quick and enjoy the wild wild west meets China meets sci fi shoot 'em up with clever dialogue, quirky plots, and wonky special effects. Love it!
Hydrocodone: The headache I alluded to on Saturday turned into a full-blown migraine Sunday night that nothing was touching. Finally, the husband offered me some of his hydrocodone left over from his nose surgery. Now, don't get me wrong, the husband NEVER does this. He is against sharing medications, like a good pharmacist should be. But he is also against my writing in pain, like a good husband should be. So he helped me. First one made me tired but didn't touch the pain. Second one made me loopy and wrapped the pain in a big fluffy blanket. Aaaahhh....
Hot water: And the next morning, hot water brought me back to life after the drugs did their work and then some. (And I know hot is an adjective, but this isn't a game of scattergories so I get to make the rules.)
Hugs: J has learned how to give hugs and (less biting) kisses spontaneously. He will hug me regularly when I pick him up after naps but then also randomly every once in a while when he feels moved to do so. It's ADORABLE!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Contigo cada instancia, cada cosa
So, quietly, while you all weren't looking, I've begun adding labels to my posts (there they are, in yellow, right down at the bottom of each entry. You can go look if you like, I'll wait). Now, most people use helpful labels that are subject oriented, like "religion" or "sports" or "vacations" to help people find something else the author may have written on the subject at hand. My labels, on the other hand, are a bit more...opaque than that. Of course. So, I've decided to explain a few of the more obscure labels, just in case you're interested. Or not. Whatever!
Experiencia religiosa refers to all things religious, which currently includes posts about seminary. In the Bloggernacle (a play on words that will mean nothing unless you're a Mormon and then should only elicit groans), they make a distinction between blogs about Mormonism and blogs by those who happen to be Mormon. I clearly fall into the latter category most of the time. Except occasionally, as indicated by this label.
Bad mommy covers those posts in which I discuss those things that I do as a parent that I'm pretty sure aren't going to win me any parenting awards or be written up as inspirational moments in parenting magazines. There are a LOT of these kinds of posts.
Good mommy? includes those moments when I think I may have done something right. There are a lot fewer of these.
Pop up video posts are those in which I revisit this blog's roots and discuss television, movies, the entertainment world, and pop culture.
Mistress of the house entries address all things domestic that don't necessarily have anything to do with parenting, such as my (halting) attempts at craft projects or the vagaries of home ownership.
Travails are not to be confused with frustrations though sometimes the two do overlap. Travails are mostly parenting oriented, while frustrations refer to those moments in life in which I want to, say, throw someone, often someone in customer service, through a wall. Or a window. I'm not picky.
Excursions, milestones, lists, pics, news and notes, and recipes are all pretty self-explanatory. Veggie tales is less so. Those posts will focus on our community supported agriculture and related experiences.
Finally, bloggety blog refers to (meta)posts specifically about blogging, because some days it seems like a brave new world that must be discussed (while on others, not so much).
I haven't finished labeling all my archives yet, but I'm almost there, so soon all my past posts will come up should you feel inclined to click on any particular label. Does all this matter? Probably not, but hey, frankly, is this blog not frivolous to its core??
Experiencia religiosa refers to all things religious, which currently includes posts about seminary. In the Bloggernacle (a play on words that will mean nothing unless you're a Mormon and then should only elicit groans), they make a distinction between blogs about Mormonism and blogs by those who happen to be Mormon. I clearly fall into the latter category most of the time. Except occasionally, as indicated by this label.
Bad mommy covers those posts in which I discuss those things that I do as a parent that I'm pretty sure aren't going to win me any parenting awards or be written up as inspirational moments in parenting magazines. There are a LOT of these kinds of posts.
Good mommy? includes those moments when I think I may have done something right. There are a lot fewer of these.
Pop up video posts are those in which I revisit this blog's roots and discuss television, movies, the entertainment world, and pop culture.
Mistress of the house entries address all things domestic that don't necessarily have anything to do with parenting, such as my (halting) attempts at craft projects or the vagaries of home ownership.
Travails are not to be confused with frustrations though sometimes the two do overlap. Travails are mostly parenting oriented, while frustrations refer to those moments in life in which I want to, say, throw someone, often someone in customer service, through a wall. Or a window. I'm not picky.
Excursions, milestones, lists, pics, news and notes, and recipes are all pretty self-explanatory. Veggie tales is less so. Those posts will focus on our community supported agriculture and related experiences.
Finally, bloggety blog refers to (meta)posts specifically about blogging, because some days it seems like a brave new world that must be discussed (while on others, not so much).
I haven't finished labeling all my archives yet, but I'm almost there, so soon all my past posts will come up should you feel inclined to click on any particular label. Does all this matter? Probably not, but hey, frankly, is this blog not frivolous to its core??
Thursday, October 09, 2008
You take the good, you take the bad
So, more TV season updates (I have seen only two of these shows in real time, by the way. The rest have been viewed on Hulu or the network websites):
The Office: I know, can you believe it, I actually watched an episode of this show, despite my inability to deal with the constant embarrassment on which the show is based! I'll admit it, I was pulled in by the cliffhanger Jim and Pam story line. I had to know what happened! But now that (spoiler alert!) they're engaged, I don't have to watch it ever again. Because doing so was VERY uncomfortable for me. Very.
Grey's Anatomy: I've already deconstructed the season premiere with ege, the only one reading here who probably cares at all, but I have to say, I'm not in love with any of the characters except for Lexi and Dr. Bailey. Otherwise, the whining stories continue, McDreamy continues to lean, the characters get less and less sympathetic with each passing season, and yet I'm still watching. It's a sickness. I am disappointed with the "I kissed a girl" story, however. How very unlikely that it was both of their first times "experimenting." Could we at least try some verisimilitude at way-too-fictional Seattle Grace? Though the "we've slipped in the rankings from #2 to #12" gimmick could be promising. We shall see....
Survivor: Why does one of the "Americans" in Gabon have a European accent? Why are so many of the contestants so ridiculously attractive? Why do they think we like the fact that they strand them in their street clothes so we can see these same outfits get dirtier and dirtier and used in more and more creative ways and, this season, shared amongst the contestants. I saw one pair of boxer briefs on no less than three different people, two girls and one guy. Ewwww!! Why can't they just repeat some challenges instead of creating ever more complicated get-ups even Probst ("Emmy-winning" reality host, though this is a joke of a category) can't keep straight all the time? Why do they include two senior citizens every time to be sacrificed at tribal council early on? Why are there so many questions about a show that involves so little of one's brain?
Life: There is only one question here: Why are you not watching this show? The writers' strike debacle saved it for another season, and it's worth your time, I promise. I would not lead you astray. It's witty and unexpected and consistently well written and good and funny and engaging and airs on Friday nights but is also available on Hulu. Watch it. NOW.
Heroes: They promised that season 3 would make us forget about disappointing season 2. I had already forgotten and long since stopped caring, and I was not alone, apparently, since this season began with a Heroes "event" which was essentially a clips episode to catch us all up. During the premiere that followed, the husband said he felt like no one had ever said, "umm, I think we need another take." He was right: the acting was wooden and the plotting uneven. By the third episode, things had settled down a bit, but I'm still worried we have another big puff of smoke on our hands: it looks significant and turns out to be nothing in the end.
Private Practice: It's funny that this show, which tries to be so "adult," is actually one of the most sophomoric selections out there. Kate Walsh is still beautiful and redheaded and all the other players are the same familiar bunch you've seen many places before, but the show struggles and takes itself too seriously, with disastrous results
The Office: I know, can you believe it, I actually watched an episode of this show, despite my inability to deal with the constant embarrassment on which the show is based! I'll admit it, I was pulled in by the cliffhanger Jim and Pam story line. I had to know what happened! But now that (spoiler alert!) they're engaged, I don't have to watch it ever again. Because doing so was VERY uncomfortable for me. Very.
Grey's Anatomy: I've already deconstructed the season premiere with ege, the only one reading here who probably cares at all, but I have to say, I'm not in love with any of the characters except for Lexi and Dr. Bailey. Otherwise, the whining stories continue, McDreamy continues to lean, the characters get less and less sympathetic with each passing season, and yet I'm still watching. It's a sickness. I am disappointed with the "I kissed a girl" story, however. How very unlikely that it was both of their first times "experimenting." Could we at least try some verisimilitude at way-too-fictional Seattle Grace? Though the "we've slipped in the rankings from #2 to #12" gimmick could be promising. We shall see....
Survivor: Why does one of the "Americans" in Gabon have a European accent? Why are so many of the contestants so ridiculously attractive? Why do they think we like the fact that they strand them in their street clothes so we can see these same outfits get dirtier and dirtier and used in more and more creative ways and, this season, shared amongst the contestants. I saw one pair of boxer briefs on no less than three different people, two girls and one guy. Ewwww!! Why can't they just repeat some challenges instead of creating ever more complicated get-ups even Probst ("Emmy-winning" reality host, though this is a joke of a category) can't keep straight all the time? Why do they include two senior citizens every time to be sacrificed at tribal council early on? Why are there so many questions about a show that involves so little of one's brain?
Life: There is only one question here: Why are you not watching this show? The writers' strike debacle saved it for another season, and it's worth your time, I promise. I would not lead you astray. It's witty and unexpected and consistently well written and good and funny and engaging and airs on Friday nights but is also available on Hulu. Watch it. NOW.
Heroes: They promised that season 3 would make us forget about disappointing season 2. I had already forgotten and long since stopped caring, and I was not alone, apparently, since this season began with a Heroes "event" which was essentially a clips episode to catch us all up. During the premiere that followed, the husband said he felt like no one had ever said, "umm, I think we need another take." He was right: the acting was wooden and the plotting uneven. By the third episode, things had settled down a bit, but I'm still worried we have another big puff of smoke on our hands: it looks significant and turns out to be nothing in the end.
Private Practice: It's funny that this show, which tries to be so "adult," is actually one of the most sophomoric selections out there. Kate Walsh is still beautiful and redheaded and all the other players are the same familiar bunch you've seen many places before, but the show struggles and takes itself too seriously, with disastrous results
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Come on thunder
Because I am new to the blogworld and because I am obsessive like that, every few days I go on a massive bloghunt and decide I need to do something new with my blog. But, you're thinking, I haven't seen anything new here, except for a few links maybe, in, umm, ever. So what gives? Well, often what I want to do exceeds either my level of skill (like a site redesign, for instance) or my level of commitment (like any one of the following tips). You see, to be a "good" (read "popular") blogger, you really have to do a lot of work I'm not willing to do right now. Lots of people will agree that taking any of the hints below will help get you noticed, but let me tell you why I am destined to languish in obscurity for, well, ever!
Tip #1: Comment, comment, comment. Omigosh, who has the time? I mean, well, clearly people do, because some of the popular sites get hundreds of comments, even thousands. I recently saw that for one of her giveaways, Dooce got over 46,000 responses!!?!! But I barely have time to read the (admittedly) few blogs to which I link and follow a few of their links and even doing that takes up too much time and causes me all sorts of guilt. And these bloghunts I do take up even more time, so I can't get all chatty and comment all over the place. I have to give my baby a bottle some time, people! Oh, and maybe interact with him once in awhile, too.
Tip #2: Use social networking sites. I've posted before about my ambivalence regarding Facebook and my now defunct Myspace and Friendster accounts. I mean, I do have an active Facebook page under my real name in which I link to this blog, which sort of flies in the face of my relative anonymity here, but I want to maintain the vestiges of that anonymity for two reasons. One, I am still employed at a college about which I write and I think it's wise for my students not to be able to google me and find this blog, at least for the time being. Of course, they could look me up on Facebook and find the URL there, but most of my students think I am older than and about as hip as dirt, so I'm pretty sure they would never even dream that I might be on Facebook (gasp!). Two, the husband continues to be employed at a hospital about which he writes and I link to him so I want to maintain his anonymity as well. We both work in industries which monitor information exchanges pretty heavily (FERPA and HIPAA, anyone?), so one always feels a bit of trepidation in writing about one's life in one's job under those circumstances. You wonder how much of your own life is actually yours to discuss. I am continually amazed by what is illegal when you actually read the fine print. Leaving student papers, graded or not, outside your door? Illegal. Emailing a student his or her grade? Illegal. Talking to a parent about a student about anything, ever? Illegal. Emailing the class and leaving the email addresses visible, even though all the students have access to their classmates' addresses via the school network? Illegal. Things like these cause a fair amount of paranoia, you see. Sooo, more intensive social networking? I think not.
Tip #3: Host giveaways. Because who doesn't like free stuff? But I'm just not that into them. I don't have anything people want; I'm not connected enough to be friends with someone who has something people want; and all the rules involved in giveaways kind of scare me, to be completely honest (but I could get over that, I suppose, leaving me still with many objections).
Tip #4. Post frequently. I thought I was doing okay in this regard, but apparently in the blog world "frequently" means more than once a day. See my thoughts on Tip #1: who has that kind of time? I'm a fast typer, and I have a lot to say in general, but even I have to think A LITTLE before I post. SHEESH!
Tip #5: Write well. Well, now, this is just as subjective as it can be, and I'm not even going to attempt to discern whether I write well or not because even though I teach writing for a living, it's not "creative" writing, and I have no frame of reference here because my goal is not Literature with a capital L.
Tip #6: Pick a niche and stay there. This was my goal originally, to write about pop culture and media, but I have strayed so very far from there by now, I have trouble even spelling the word "niche." And, in fact, it was difficult to stay with just one topic, and I got stymied many times during those early days of my blog because I wanted to go off topic and felt compelled to stay there. Apparently, "mommy" blogs are the exception to this rule, but you still have to have a consistent voice.
So many rules!! What the heck EVER!
Tip #1: Comment, comment, comment. Omigosh, who has the time? I mean, well, clearly people do, because some of the popular sites get hundreds of comments, even thousands. I recently saw that for one of her giveaways, Dooce got over 46,000 responses!!?!! But I barely have time to read the (admittedly) few blogs to which I link and follow a few of their links and even doing that takes up too much time and causes me all sorts of guilt. And these bloghunts I do take up even more time, so I can't get all chatty and comment all over the place. I have to give my baby a bottle some time, people! Oh, and maybe interact with him once in awhile, too.
Tip #2: Use social networking sites. I've posted before about my ambivalence regarding Facebook and my now defunct Myspace and Friendster accounts. I mean, I do have an active Facebook page under my real name in which I link to this blog, which sort of flies in the face of my relative anonymity here, but I want to maintain the vestiges of that anonymity for two reasons. One, I am still employed at a college about which I write and I think it's wise for my students not to be able to google me and find this blog, at least for the time being. Of course, they could look me up on Facebook and find the URL there, but most of my students think I am older than and about as hip as dirt, so I'm pretty sure they would never even dream that I might be on Facebook (gasp!). Two, the husband continues to be employed at a hospital about which he writes and I link to him so I want to maintain his anonymity as well. We both work in industries which monitor information exchanges pretty heavily (FERPA and HIPAA, anyone?), so one always feels a bit of trepidation in writing about one's life in one's job under those circumstances. You wonder how much of your own life is actually yours to discuss. I am continually amazed by what is illegal when you actually read the fine print. Leaving student papers, graded or not, outside your door? Illegal. Emailing a student his or her grade? Illegal. Talking to a parent about a student about anything, ever? Illegal. Emailing the class and leaving the email addresses visible, even though all the students have access to their classmates' addresses via the school network? Illegal. Things like these cause a fair amount of paranoia, you see. Sooo, more intensive social networking? I think not.
Tip #3: Host giveaways. Because who doesn't like free stuff? But I'm just not that into them. I don't have anything people want; I'm not connected enough to be friends with someone who has something people want; and all the rules involved in giveaways kind of scare me, to be completely honest (but I could get over that, I suppose, leaving me still with many objections).
Tip #4. Post frequently. I thought I was doing okay in this regard, but apparently in the blog world "frequently" means more than once a day. See my thoughts on Tip #1: who has that kind of time? I'm a fast typer, and I have a lot to say in general, but even I have to think A LITTLE before I post. SHEESH!
Tip #5: Write well. Well, now, this is just as subjective as it can be, and I'm not even going to attempt to discern whether I write well or not because even though I teach writing for a living, it's not "creative" writing, and I have no frame of reference here because my goal is not Literature with a capital L.
Tip #6: Pick a niche and stay there. This was my goal originally, to write about pop culture and media, but I have strayed so very far from there by now, I have trouble even spelling the word "niche." And, in fact, it was difficult to stay with just one topic, and I got stymied many times during those early days of my blog because I wanted to go off topic and felt compelled to stay there. Apparently, "mommy" blogs are the exception to this rule, but you still have to have a consistent voice.
So many rules!! What the heck EVER!
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