is a name of one of the girls on this season of America's Next Top Model.
Isn't that reason enough to watch?
Oh wait, she just got kicked off. Never mind.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
I hoped this day would never come
I'm about to write something about American Idol. This is where I might say "don't judge me" but I know you already have. It's okay, I'm now at peace with my heartfelt devotion for reality TV.
Everyone and their mother has already posted something about this girl. But in case you didn't catch it, young Ferl had a 13 year old moment (or half hour) while her favorite idols attempted to rock out. She sobbed uncontrollably as some of the worst performances ever took place. And the producers of Idol ate it up. The first time they showed her I looked over at Alex we started laughing. The second time they caught her on camera I still had a grin on my face. The third time brought a little sympathy. By the tenth time I was irritated and welcoming back memories of how painful it was to be 13. I remembered being boggled by hormones and unable to fight the urge to purchase magazines, even if they were Japanese, just because there was an extra sassy photo of John Taylor in there. Like most emotionally unstable teenage girls, my obsessions were frenzied and almost painful. I don't regret that time in my life, I know the infatuations I experienced were part of growing up. I might even label them the threshold into some of my best dysfunctional relationships. I had many a moment like uber-Idol-fan Fern, luckily for me it was semi-private. I was able to sit in the dark, back row of the Orpheum clasping my hands together, wondering if Roland Orzabal would notice me. It was a personal experience as I stood on the arms of the stadium chair, tasting my own salty tears while wondering if Andrew Ridgeley would make a good husband. I feel awkward enough sharing some of my memories here, without the photos of my greasy hair and videos of my retainer induced speech impediment.
Will young Fern ever be able to live it down? She may not be embarrassed about it now, she's just stoked she got a squeeze from Sanjaya, but what about 10 years from now? Take heart, Fern, you're in good company. Luckily, because of things like this, it's very in vogue now to share your most embarrassing moments. Give it about 15 years and you could be the next Mortified Idol.
Everyone and their mother has already posted something about this girl. But in case you didn't catch it, young Ferl had a 13 year old moment (or half hour) while her favorite idols attempted to rock out. She sobbed uncontrollably as some of the worst performances ever took place. And the producers of Idol ate it up. The first time they showed her I looked over at Alex we started laughing. The second time they caught her on camera I still had a grin on my face. The third time brought a little sympathy. By the tenth time I was irritated and welcoming back memories of how painful it was to be 13. I remembered being boggled by hormones and unable to fight the urge to purchase magazines, even if they were Japanese, just because there was an extra sassy photo of John Taylor in there. Like most emotionally unstable teenage girls, my obsessions were frenzied and almost painful. I don't regret that time in my life, I know the infatuations I experienced were part of growing up. I might even label them the threshold into some of my best dysfunctional relationships. I had many a moment like uber-Idol-fan Fern, luckily for me it was semi-private. I was able to sit in the dark, back row of the Orpheum clasping my hands together, wondering if Roland Orzabal would notice me. It was a personal experience as I stood on the arms of the stadium chair, tasting my own salty tears while wondering if Andrew Ridgeley would make a good husband. I feel awkward enough sharing some of my memories here, without the photos of my greasy hair and videos of my retainer induced speech impediment.
Will young Fern ever be able to live it down? She may not be embarrassed about it now, she's just stoked she got a squeeze from Sanjaya, but what about 10 years from now? Take heart, Fern, you're in good company. Luckily, because of things like this, it's very in vogue now to share your most embarrassing moments. Give it about 15 years and you could be the next Mortified Idol.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Happy St. Patrick's Day
He needs a few more beers before he really kicks up his heels.
Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos
Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos
Friday, March 16, 2007
Friday
Now that I'm back at work I realize that I sometimes need a break from the exciting world of spreadsheets and invoices. Aside from the distraction provided by the construction which sounds like a giant dentist's drill on the other side of the wall and prohibits me from making phone calls, I have found this. I can't get enough of it.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
post partum predicament
Since I'm going back to work in two weeks I thought it might be a good idea for me to buy some new clothes; I still don't fit into my pre-pregnancy stuff and as comfortable as maternity clothes are I can't reasonably wear them any longer without feeling like a crazy person. To allow me to shop for a new wardrobe, Alex took Cole all day on Monday and I headed into the city for some retail therapy. I had a spring in my step while walking to the BART station, not only because it was a welcome break from Cole, but I was hopeful that I was about to purchase some fabulous new frocks that would make me feel good about myself. My bliss only lasted for about 45 minutes, which is precisely how long it took me to get into San Francisco find a store of my liking and try on my first pair of pants.
The trouble with shopping for clothes with a waistline of an anamorphic blob is that I had no idea what size I was. I was forced to bring 8 pairs of pants into the dressing room with me, that was a chore in itself, never mind actually trying them all on. The good part and time saving moment came when the first pair of pants I tried on miraculously fit. The bad thing was that those very pants were supposed to be the self esteem boost; I brought them in there because I was sure I would be swimming in them and I could feel like Jared from Subway. Alas, I am still a "before."
The rest of the trip was not very successful. After four and a half hours of torture I ended up with 2 pairs of pants, a big sweater and a very cute hat for Cole . Nary a shirt in the shopping center fit the way I needed it to. I guess I'll have to give it a couple more months. Until then my coworkers might have to endure my yoga pants (which can walk around on their own at this point) and over sized sweatshirts.
The trouble with shopping for clothes with a waistline of an anamorphic blob is that I had no idea what size I was. I was forced to bring 8 pairs of pants into the dressing room with me, that was a chore in itself, never mind actually trying them all on. The good part and time saving moment came when the first pair of pants I tried on miraculously fit. The bad thing was that those very pants were supposed to be the self esteem boost; I brought them in there because I was sure I would be swimming in them and I could feel like Jared from Subway. Alas, I am still a "before."
The rest of the trip was not very successful. After four and a half hours of torture I ended up with 2 pairs of pants, a big sweater and a very cute hat for Cole . Nary a shirt in the shopping center fit the way I needed it to. I guess I'll have to give it a couple more months. Until then my coworkers might have to endure my yoga pants (which can walk around on their own at this point) and over sized sweatshirts.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
back in the saddle
Now that Cole is almost 3 months old I'm finding time to do things for myself. Things like taking showers, cutting my fingernails and using my computer. Hey, I remember how to type! These nimble fingers can do more than change diapers and snap onesies.
Motherhood is much tougher than I thought it would be. Not just the sleep deprivation but the anxiety that comes along with realizing I'm responsible for a very small human being who came into this world without an instruction book.
Breastfeeding was rough, Cole and I gave it the old college try, but we just couldn't hack it as a feeding/eating team. He ended up losing weight and I ended up with mastitis... 3 times in 10 weeks. It was miserable. So now I pump a couple times a day and we make up the extra with formula. The formula is where Alex got to jump in as super-dad to do price and ingredient comparisons. His findings were that the Kirkland (a.k.a. Costco) brand is pretty darn close to Enfamil and Similac in the nutrition department but costs half as much. Talk about your bargain shopping. I was really resistant to the idea of formula, but without it I would have a starving baby and I would have had to continue spending more time bonding with my Medela breast pump than my son. And as it turns out that giving Cole formula was not the end of the world. Imagine that. I did find some creative ways to use my Medela accessories after I stopped pumping a million times a day. For example: the breast shield is a great funnel for getting the formula into the bottle.
And the storage bottles for breast milk are super for transporting pre-measured amounts of formula when we go on outings. The best thing about the storage bottles are that they say things on the side like "Breastfeeding is baby's best start" "Breastfeeding: from mother with love" "Breastfeeding: nature's perfect food" "Mother's milk is #1" and my personal favorite to fill with powdered formula, "Contents: 100% Breastmilk." 
I think I might give the LaLeche League a collective heart attack.
One of the biggest lessons I've learned since having a baby is that it's crucial to be flexible and to understand that as a parent I have to roll with the punches and do what works best, no matter what preconceived ideas I may have had. I laugh now when I think about how I was convinced I would have a natural childbirth, then I downgraded it to "okay, maybe I'll take the epidural" and when it came right down to it I had an epidural as well as tons of narcotics. Being a parent has forced me to live in the moment like I never have before. There aren't enough books in the universe to prepare anyone for an infant, you just have to do what you have to do. It felt scary to me for the first 8 weeks and now I'm finally getting the hang of this mommy thing. Which is ironic because I go back to work in 3 weeks.
What kind of mother would I be if I didn't end this post with a picture of my super-smart-extra-cute-amazingly-strong baby?
Motherhood is much tougher than I thought it would be. Not just the sleep deprivation but the anxiety that comes along with realizing I'm responsible for a very small human being who came into this world without an instruction book.
Breastfeeding was rough, Cole and I gave it the old college try, but we just couldn't hack it as a feeding/eating team. He ended up losing weight and I ended up with mastitis... 3 times in 10 weeks. It was miserable. So now I pump a couple times a day and we make up the extra with formula. The formula is where Alex got to jump in as super-dad to do price and ingredient comparisons. His findings were that the Kirkland (a.k.a. Costco) brand is pretty darn close to Enfamil and Similac in the nutrition department but costs half as much. Talk about your bargain shopping. I was really resistant to the idea of formula, but without it I would have a starving baby and I would have had to continue spending more time bonding with my Medela breast pump than my son. And as it turns out that giving Cole formula was not the end of the world. Imagine that. I did find some creative ways to use my Medela accessories after I stopped pumping a million times a day. For example: the breast shield is a great funnel for getting the formula into the bottle.
And the storage bottles for breast milk are super for transporting pre-measured amounts of formula when we go on outings. The best thing about the storage bottles are that they say things on the side like "Breastfeeding is baby's best start" "Breastfeeding: from mother with love" "Breastfeeding: nature's perfect food" "Mother's milk is #1" and my personal favorite to fill with powdered formula, "Contents: 100% Breastmilk." 
I think I might give the LaLeche League a collective heart attack. One of the biggest lessons I've learned since having a baby is that it's crucial to be flexible and to understand that as a parent I have to roll with the punches and do what works best, no matter what preconceived ideas I may have had. I laugh now when I think about how I was convinced I would have a natural childbirth, then I downgraded it to "okay, maybe I'll take the epidural" and when it came right down to it I had an epidural as well as tons of narcotics. Being a parent has forced me to live in the moment like I never have before. There aren't enough books in the universe to prepare anyone for an infant, you just have to do what you have to do. It felt scary to me for the first 8 weeks and now I'm finally getting the hang of this mommy thing. Which is ironic because I go back to work in 3 weeks.
What kind of mother would I be if I didn't end this post with a picture of my super-smart-extra-cute-amazingly-strong baby?
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
37 weeks
The good news is I'm so close. The bad news is the doctor just told me I need to up my dosage of blood thinners, I'm up to 3 full syringes a day. I hope I can avoid any knife fights for the next few weeks.
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