Aug
16
August 16, 2006
Well, I hardly know how I’ll find time to update this website when I’ve got all this new music to listen to. Holy shit, did you guys ever kick down with the awesome suggestions. I’ve spent an obscene amount of time on iTunes in the last 24 hours, and Pandora? Best website EVER, I can’t believe I’d never heard of it before. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
This is my week for paycheck-frittering, I guess, because in addition to my mp3 investments I decided to brave the Sephora at the Snooty Mall near my office today. Because it’s the Snooty Mall, there were all kinds of Snooty People in Sephora, including one woman who browsed every single cramped aisle while pushing a giant stroller, her older toddler running batshit willy-nilly, grabbing samples and smearing lipstick everywhere. Every now and then she’d halfheartedly yell at her sample-monkey, while shoving the stroller into people’s calves then acting pissy about it (“Excuse me”). I suppose if you have no other way to visit Sephora without the kids in tow, then you must bring the kids along, but…um, maybe next time buy off Amazon? Or something?
Actually, the entire Snooty Mall–which is always crawling with young fashionistas and their offspring–seemed to be experiencing a collective toddler terror attack this afternoon. I saw at least four different kids having some variant of screaming meltdown as I walked through the mall to Sephora and back; one small boy was outside of the Land of Nod shrieking “NO! NO! NO!” at his mother, who appeared to be attempting to reason with him.
I try not to gawp openly at public tantrums but I secretly scan the entire scene because I dread the day when I am the adult and Riley is the horrible, snot-nosed demon that the passersby would like to drop-kick. I mean, I have no idea what the right thing to do in that situation is. Today I saw kids that seemed generally to be having a fit of the brats, and my inclination would be not to reason or explain or soothe, but rather to grab and Remove From the Premises, perhaps to be ultimately dropped into a deep dark well somewhere with only a half-retarded Lassie dog to incorrectly bark their location (“What’s that girl? There’s a boy trapped in a smell? A what?”). But of course that may not be the best parenting move and maybe those kids were super tired and cranky and their blood sugar had dropped from a lack of cheese goldfish?
Shit, I don’t know. I’ll tell you this, though: the only way I would take Riley into a crowded, teeming Sephora packed with flint-eyed women who will shank you with an eyelash curler if you get between them and the last BeneTint cheek stain is if he’s been tagged with a 6 cc tranq dart loaded with a ketamine-and-Darvon cocktail.
Anyway, the reason I was going to Sephora was to buy this crazy makeup I’ve heard raves about (the law of averages dictates that at least one of you has used this and you now hate it with the fire and heat of a thousand hateful suns, if so then you must leave me to my one night of dreams and promise) I’m a huge sucker for word of mouth product evangelizing (anyone remember The Soap?), and when it comes to ridiculously overblown snake-oil claims about beauty concoctions? Why, color me helpless. Sephora has a “Get Started” kit of this makeup that includes two foundations, some brushes, some other crap, and – get this – a fucking HOW-TO DVD.
Yes, because I have so much free time in the morning I need a makeup application process that requires a DVD in order to master it. Maybe I’ll do some Pilates while I’m at it, right? (Ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa. Ha. Ow, I hurt myself. Too bad I’m not more limber in order to laugh about exercising.)
I am both stupid and gullible, say hallelulah, but who knows – perhaps via the magic of “Bare Escentuals” I will be transformed into a peach-skinned, gently glowing maternal-yet-sexy-and-ageless goddess of beauty and light. Also, it’s possible I will crap a single, solitary gold ingot tomorrow morning after my morning coffee. You never know. If that happens, I’m heading back to iTunes, because I’ve got a lot of music-buying to do.
Aug
15
August 15, 2006
Yesterday was my stay-at-home-with-Riley day, and instead of hanging around the house I packed up his backpack (ba pa!) and took him to the nearby Kelsey Creek Park, which features a farm with actual farm animals. That was a really good time; Riley was goggling at everything from the pack and I took my camera along to snap photos of this and that. Later I took him to Whole Foods, which wasn’t so thrilling for me, but he definitely seemed to enjoy all the activity and intriguing sights (“Look, sweetie, non-hydrogenated organic vegan butter substitute!”).
All in all a busy, fun day with the boy. For one of the first times, I felt like I was doing the weekday-mom thing in a way that really worked. Does that make any kind of sense? I just mean it wasn’t boring or frustrating and I wasn’t spending my time trying to keep Riley occupied while I did another beshitted load of laundry, for god’s sake.
Hey! Speaking of housekeeping, how much am I loving the Roomba? THIS MUCH. I can see how it might not work well in every type of household, but for our small living areas and hardwood floors it does a bang-up job. I set up the house (close doors, move chairs out of the way, set up its little wall-perimeter gadget) and turn it on before I leave. When I get back? Clean, dust-free, hairless floors. Even JB reluctantly admits to the Roomba’s awesomeness, although he remains slightly paranoid about its hidden robot directives.
Dog shares JB’s suspicions, although in her popcorn-kernel-sized brain she’s probably just wondering if it contains Mystery Food Items.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as she has recently learned that certain furniture objects always provide a robust variety of snack options.
Speaking of JB (I hereby declare today Awkward Segue Day!), after watching Jesus is Magic with me on Saturday he confessed to having developed a non-insignificant crush on Sarah Silverman. “She’s hot,” he said, dreamily. So now my husband is in love with a hot girl who’s not only funny as hell (seriously, her standup in that video will make you cry actual liquid tears of laughter. The skits, not so much.) but is SKINNY, too. In retaliation I think I should be allowed one (1) makeout session with…oh, let’s say George Clooney, because not only is he ridiculously, classically hot, but doesn’t Clooney seem like he would murmur something spectacularly witty in your ear before laying into you like his lips and tongue were trained by top secret military kissing operatives?
What else…oh, I was going to ask your opinions on a couple things. Don’t you love being my personal life-advisor? (PLEASE SAY YES.)
Thing the first: can you recommend something new music-wise for me to listen to? I am currently liking Tom Petty’s most recent album but it’s the first thing I’ve bought in months and my iPod rotation is staaale. I like almost any genre so don’t hold back with the suggestions. Save my commute, for I have been forced to listen to Seattle radio lately. Which, ugh.
Thing the second: I’m thinking about getting this dining room set that we saw over the weekend at a local furniture shop. The table is made of oak, and has four black granite pieces on top. The pieces can be removed from the table for cleaning. It maybe sounds weird and I’m not sure if it’s totally ugly or really awesome, but I wondered if granite is easily cracked (by a hot plate, say), or stained? Have you any granite horror stories?
God. BORING. Let’s just go to some baby photos, shall we?
Note the ear-hold going on here. Hee.
People, this kid is going to be walking soon. WALK. ING.
I sure got a lot of shit for buying this pool thingie, but who’s laughing now? Um, well, technically no one is, but Riley’s smiling, by god.
Taken while hiking near Tiger Mountain on Sunday. Our first hike in the woods with the boy, very cool. “Cool” meaning “hotter than Hades”, actually, maybe next time it’ll be more temperate and we’ll last more than twenty minutes.
Finally, proof that we are unfit parents who, by having damning photographic evidence of tossing the boy skyward after a full meal of apricots, deserve every predictable outcome of said tossing episode, including the part that necessitated fifteen Wet Wipes and a healthy application of Pledge Multi-Surface spray.
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