Hippity Hoppity Hippie

Today, in honor of a holiday I find creepier than Halloween, Livy and I joined our friends Sandy, Mike, Gavyn, Katie, Liam, and Ian at the Woodland Park Zoo for some egg huntin' fun.  It wasn't as fun as Buck Hunter, but it was a lot more fun than Rick Hunter, so I call it a success!  Plus how can you go wrong with a day filled with springtime sunshine, goofy toddlers, and good friends at a zoo picnic?

Because I couldn't be bothered to get Livy an Easter dress and instead delegated the responsibility to Bubby, who is an actual Catholic and former altar boy, she went to today's festivities as a hippie clown.  And because we live in Seattle, I spotted 3 other people in tie-dye as soon as we entered the zoo gates.  OF COURSE I DID.

I sure hope these plastic eggs are local and from organically fed cage free heirloom plastic chickens...

She had a good time finding eggs, but maybe it was because of the outfit, she had just as much fun putting them in other kids' baskets as she did in her own bag.

... to each according to his need, and you need another empty plastic egg!

But the best part of the day by far was eating and playing on the grass with her homeboys Gavyn and Liam.  Those three are like adorable and poorly coordinated peas in a pod.

Liam in hat, Gavyn with ball, and Livy.

So, until tomorrow when we hit the south end for a grandparental explosion and a froofy cupcake dress, happy Easter! 

Love SLB,

Easter posies, m'dear?

Livy,

Upside down sunglasses = Geordi La Forge!



And me, Bruce Wayne.

My secret is safe with you, yes?

A Year Ago Today

Someone had no pants on, and for once it wasn't me.

My Daughter Is A Genius

(And I wear a sweatshirt that says "Brooklyn" on it a lot).



Unfornately, her mother is an idiot.



The St. Patrick's Day shirt and her learning how to say "drinking!" is a lucky coincidence, I swear.

A Venn Diagram In Which All Three Parts Feature My Image

1.  You know what's stupid?  Grating your thumb into a bloody nub while attempting to break down some Parmesan and constantly stir a pot of risotto at the same time.

2.  You know what's badass?  Not risking ruining the risotto by leaving the stove to go upstairs to get a Band-Aid and instead improvising a bandage using only a paper towel and a rubber band.

Thumb's up, MacGyver-style.

3.  What's stupid AND badass?  Dying of lockjaw because you're too chicken to have ever gotten a Tetanus shot and grated your thumb and made your own filthy kitchen bandage in order to ensure a perfect plate of risotto.

It was really delicious.

And that image in the Venn Diagram I mentioned earlier.  It's this one, obviously.

Ironic, in an Alanis Morisette Kind of Way

So, I was just introduced to this video after mailing all of my maternity clothes to Carolina in Alabama.



Um, Carolina?  I'm going to need those clothes back, and if anyone knows where I can find some black market Clomid I'd really apprecite that information.

Head to Head: 80's Cinematic Homoeroticism

Two movies, both alike in dignity, in fair California where we lay our scene.

O.K.  I'll stop that now.  But, seriously, which of these two ostensibly heterosexually macho movies is the most homoerotic you've ever seen?

1.  1982's Rocky 3, in which Apollo Creed, played by my real dad Carl Weathers, coaches Rocky Balboa, played by John Rambo, to new sweaty, short-shorted, wet, hugging heights. 

Yes, it was worth posting twice.

or,

2.  1986's Top Gun, which, in addition to featuring a sweaty, shirtless beach volleyball scene, includes this little gem in which [Trouser] Viper, played by my real mom's pretend boyfriend Tom Skerritt, offers sage advice to a whitey-tightied Maverick in the men's room.  You know, how and where your mentors best coach you.

One a penny, two a penny...

So, which is it, Peeps?  If Pat Robertson were to settle in for a fine Saturday afternoon of cinema on TNT, which would he be more likely to preach against on Sunday morning?



Head to Head: This Is Why We Fight

I have a love/hate relationship with The Decemberists.  Go on.  Ask them.  They'll totally agree.  Currently, with the release of their countrified and folky The King is Dead we are back on solid loving ground.  But, being in a love/love relationship with Regina Spektor, I can't help but hear a mashup between The Decemberist's "This Is Why We Fight" and Spektor's "One More Time With Feeling," which also prominently features "this is why we fight" in the lyrics.  It's like a mobius mashup; I listen to one, then immediately listen to the other, which makes me crave the first one all over again.

So, here.  You listen and decide who made better use of the line, because I can't.  They both make me so happy.  Smack my ass and call me Sophie, but I just can't choose.

The Decemberists:


Regina Spektor:

It's Come To This

Livy is at Oma's.  SLB is at work.  And I'm seeing if I can embed this gif into my blog.



Oh, good.  I can.

Buddies!

As we've been slowly shifting the chaos of our new home into order and comfort we've been escaping the pressure of the mess by spending time with our buddies.  Last week we had a big adventure at the Pacific Science Center with some friends from our newborn PEPS group.  We met up with Sandy and Gavyn (Hayndy and Gammin) and Katie and Liam (Tatie and Umum), our old buddies (BUDDIES!) from when the kids were about 2 months old. 

Halloween 2009: Gavyn is the cranky cow, Liam the wise bear, and Livy the chunky one-footed headless monkey (along with Willa the grouchy ladybug and Clara the gleeful pumpkin).

Liam and Livy yuk it up.

Livy and Gavyn holding baby hands.

It's been wonderful watching our kids grow up together and watching each other grow up with our kids.  It's almost impossible to believe that they were once little lumps of babyness now that they're all full-fledged toddlers.  When I first had Livy I'd inwardly roll my eyes when more experienced mothers talked wistfully about their children's infancy being gone in a flash.  Now I'm on the other side of that equation and, sigh, where did our babies go?

Apparently they've gone to the big water table at the Science Center,

Livy was soaked.  Gavyn was EXTRA soaked.  Liam miraculously ended the day dry.

off to control the water-squirty thingie with the serious intensity it deserves and requires,

With great power comes great responsibility.

and into a big, fake helicopter to push buttons with even more focus and intensity.

Pilot Liam and copilot Livy readying their craft for takeoff.  Phantom Mama playing paparazzo.

3 heads are clearly better than 1: Gavyn joins the flight crew and Phantom Sandy joins the photo corps.

Serious business.

They're such good lifelong friends that even this crime of passion was eventually forgiven.  Remember, you always hurt [most] the ones you love [most].

Only one child was harmed in the making of this film.

Katie later told me that Liam woke up during the night after this accident crying "Neenee!  Vivy!  Owie!," but that didn't stop him from loving us again this week when we 6 met up at the zoo for more good times.  Because that's how it is with friends who've become family - you can hurt each other, then laugh together, and sometimes fly helicopters together and love each other through it all.

Buy Me That: Office Upcycled Suit Tote

Because it's time for Livy's snacks and diapers to go biz-cazh.*

Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed diaper bag.

Get yours here (and check out the sexy velvet version for when you take your baby clubbing).

*Douchebag for "business casual."

Because Only Old-timey Villains Wax Their Moustachios

Today while pillaging the library Livy turned a corner and found this book on display for Women's History [Ghettoization] Month.

Even as an infant she had a unibrow?  Um.  O.K.

To celebrate her excellent taste in literature and art we checked out the book, the first I've ever borrowed on her behalf.  And to let you all share in our festivities I give you this, one of the best Halloween/Day of the Dead costumes I've ever created.

It's a natural look for me.

That's my friend Trixie Lane of Seattle Retro Photography, who would have taken my maternity pictures had I had any maternity pictures taken.  She's awesome, and no, kittens, she's not in costume.  She's just that fabulous every dang day.  You're right to be dazzled by her brilliance.

So viva Trixie!  Viva Livy!  Viva Frida!  What a colorless and bland world we'd live in without having been brightened by three such awesome women.

Approaching Settledness

Hi, friends!  Long time no write to!  We're settling in at the new house, but here's the last video I took at the old house.  I miss that bright little kitchen already.  Thank goodness we packed the bright little girl with us.  This isn't particularly riveting film, but stick around until the end when it gets unexpectedly hilarious.

Buy Me That: Bug on a Bike!

I'm not even joking.  If one of you freeloading blog-enjoyers doesn't buy me this to hang in our new downstairs powder room, WE'RE THROUGH.

GET ON YOUR TRIKE AND RIDE!

SLB is out of town, but I can already imagine the conversation we're going to have if one of you doesn't pony up and mail this to me immediately.  It goes a little something like this:

Me:  Hey, look at this bug on a trike!  I love him!  What do you think about me getting it for the powder room downstairs?

SLB:  It's weird.  I don't want a bug on my wall.

Me:  Tough titties, Meal Ticket!  I'm buying me that bug!

SLB:  I'll be having bourbon with my oatmeal this morning.

End scene.

Get your - er, I mean MY - new bug friend here!

Because One Can't Not Be Jean Seberg ALL the Time

I'm sidelined from packing with a dreadful headache, so while my Aleve-and-coffee cocktail kicks in, I'll say hello to you, darling readers.  You've been so brave to do without my ramblings - I know I couldn't go this long without reading my charming words - and you deserve a little notice even in the midst of our chaos.  So, hello there!  I notice you!  I notice you noticing me, which is the way I like it.  Notice on, lucky readers...

I got tired of not being Jean Seberg, so I just went balls to the wall and asked Jami to cut my hair dangerously short.  I may have used the term "lesbian chemotherapy short," but I don't rightly recall.

Hail Caesar!

I really like it, and it officially makes me the shortest-haired person in our family.  I don't know why I'm proud of that, but I am.  Also, it's strange even for someone who's had short hair for a while to look in the mirror, see something blatantly contrary to conventional beauty, and LOVE it.  It's not pretty by any standard definition, but it is rad, and I think I'll keep it super-short for the time being.

Dark circles be damned!  Look at how scrunchy-nosed happy this 'do makes me. 

But I know who you really come here to see, so here's a peek of the lady of the hour, Miss Olivia Lee.

Briefly resting between wiggles

The further she dives into restless toddlerhood, the harder it is to get a good picture of her.  She may not be walking yet, but, DAY-UMN, is that kid squirmy.  So don't be surprised if all you see are fuzzy pictures; they're the only kind I can take right now.

"The room, as part of the world, revolves around me."

She still isn't a walker, although nature and physical therapy will change that course soon, but she's a prolific talker.  Her latest surprising linguistic conquests: "attorney" and "tapenade," but "I love you" and her own name remain elusive.  She does slap her chest while yelling "ME!" and she announces all of her farts by seriously repeating "toot" afterward, so at least I've taught her the important things.

But her cutest new word is a mispronounced one, which is why it delights me so.  Let's kick it old-skool, shall we?

Ready for my Close-up

The closer and closer we get to moving into our new house the more and more I've been desperately combing design websites trying to develop a decorative flair.  It is one of my greatest fears that I won't be able to do justice to the awesomeness of our new house with my penny pinching, utilitarian ways, that my aesthetic timidity and financial self-denial (self-loathing?) will rear their ugly heads, and that we'll live surrounded by particle board and hotel-grade art FOREVER.  So, on The Morah's recommendation, I checked out Design Sponge today and found that site's "Living In" feature that marries design, commerce, and a shocking number of my favorite movies.

People, you have no idea how far up my alley this little feature is.  But you're about to.

For example, do you know that my current haircut is loosely based on Jean Seberg's in Breathless, a movie I've seen multiple times but can never remember.  Why can't I remember it?  Because I'm too busy looking at it to listen to it or pay attention to it properly.  My mind can recreate each of Seberg's outfits, gestures, and mannerisms, but I can hardly ever remember a single thread of the plot unless the movie is playing immediately in front of me.  So, I literally gasped when I came across the "Living In: Breathless" edition.

No, I'm no Jean Seberg.  But neither are you, so we're even there.

And those of you who have known me since high school will remember my reliance on a stubborn center part long after it was considered fashionable.  Hopefully that, plus my current over-reliance on opaque tights regardless of the season will be judged softly when I plead this:  Love means never having to admit that you look nothing like Ali MacGraw and never, ever will.

And I never even got into Harvard.  Not once.

But the movie honored by Design Sponge that slapped me silly with a nostalgia that would have made Proust choke on his madelines was the 1995 gem Party Girl starring a then-unknown and -unirritating Parker Posey.

H-h-h-hello!

I had this poster, which I'm almost certain I stole from the video store where I worked, on my wall all through high school.  I would "rent" the movie at least once every two weeks from work and watch it after a late night Saturday shift.  I tried desperately to layer long-sleeved t-shirts as the poster suggested, but found that my limited elbow-bending capacity made the look too uncomfortable to endure.  I wondered what, exactly, falafel and baba ganoush were.  And I still to this day crib the line about something or another making "my unborn baby grow gills."  

Make no mistake, this is not a great film.  But it is about a beautiful and sassy young woman living in New York and pursuing a dream of becoming a fabulous - fabulous! - librarian, which fascinated and delighted my small-town smart-girl imagination.

So, thank you Design Sponge for helping me while away a pleasant morning "living in" some of my favorite movies.  I'd call it a time-waster, but it was a true pleasure poking through these archives and reliving my love of these films.  And now, unstylishly, uncinematically, I have some boxes to pack.

These Little Piggies

Oma makes the best pigtails, hands down.

Excuse me, miss?  You have a little something green in your teeth...

... and a little something evil in your eyes.

But not even Oma can tame the chaos that nature hath wrought on my baby's head forever.  Come bathtime the curls run wild!

Born free!  Free as the hair grows!

Goofy fraggle.

Two New Members of the List Family!

Previous entries here and here, but now please welcome

102 (or thereabouts).  Go on Jeopardy, win money, and express extreme disappointment in Alex Trebek's moustachiolessness.

Good.

Better.

103 (or thereabouts).  One time, randomly, in a spirit of celebrating the mundane, buy the next round for the entire bar.  Bonus points for telling everyone it's because I found out that I'm pregnant after I dramatically drain my glass.

Viva!

Buy Yourself This After You Stick a Sock in it.

Hi, folks!  Yes, I am aware that I have been a neglectful blogger.  And, no, I will not be picking up the pace just yet.  We are excited here at Me Show HQ about our upcoming location to a WHOLE NEW HQ.  So posts will be less frequent as we box up our goods and transport them to our new digs a whopping 10 blocks away.  Oh, Ballard!  I just can't quit you!

Until then, suck it up.  Let this be your inspiration.

Follow my lead, plebes!  Get your copy of this poster here.

Or, if you're really desperate for some hot Me Show action, then get your parasitic arse over here and pack a box or two to hasten my return.  We are currently accepting applications for Moving Buddies, so submit yours today!

Tidbits and Whatnots

I haven't posted in over a week, which is dangerous when one has such a devoted fan base of obsessive parents, in-laws, and grandparents as I have.  But Livy, SLB, and I have been sick - REAL SICK - all over again, and I haven't wanted to take pictures or observe my own life, let alone formulate coherent blog posts about any of it.

So, here.  This is what you get.

1.  I have a cousin named Candice (known better as Kansas, Gorkus, Candy, and Candybaby).  She is awesome and can kill you with one shot from a hundred paces, no shit.  She's in the Navy and just got back from overseas where she fixed aircraft and did not have to put her sharpshooting skills to use, thank goodness.  She is as stubborn and hard-hearted as I am, and our family has speculated about the potential outcome of a fistfight between the two of us for decades.  Now that she can do a million pushups in a minute or whatever the military requires and I'm a squishy mom speculation has dwindled to... well... this blog post.

Livy is convinced that Candy is a celebrity because she's in 3 of the pictures on our fridge.  That means a lot when your exposure to the world generally consists of trips to the grocery store and reading a book about a mermaid parade 7 times a day.

2.  We are bad parents.

It's my kid in a box!  (Anyone wanting to make a joke about her birth will have to remember that I had a C-section).

3.  The Deschutes Brewery in Portland has both delicious beer and crafty beer bottle holiday lights.  There are tiny holes drilled in the back of the bottles to accommodate the twinkle lights that are strung behind the whole row.  If I ever get a fancy glass-bottle-hole-drilling machine I might make some of these.  But most likely I'll just post them here.

Perfect for a man cave.  O.K., the coast is clear; you can make your vagina joke now.

4.  With all due respect to The Pipettes, The Morah and I are the prettiest girls you've ever met.

We wear interesting jackets like the future candidates wives we are fast becoming.

5.  One of the best things about sharing a camera with SLB are the secret gems he leaves me on our memory card.  Viking dog agrees.

Jag håller med.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have more expectorating to do.

Whistler's Daughter

"When I was your age I had to walk to school uphill both ways...

...BOTH ways, dammit."