Is Dr. Karp my hero?

The jury is still out, but here is what just happened:

The baby was fussing and crying uncontrollably for no discernible reason and yes we got the big "C" word diagnosis from the pediatrician the other day: colic. There I said it out loud. Or wrote it out loud. Whatever. Anyway, she has been feeding like a fiend all day so can't possibly be hungry. I just recently changed her diaper, and her icky stomach issues did not seem to be making an appearance -- no gurgly noises, spit-up, or classic "my tummy hurts" motions (I'm learning a lot, though I still am a pretty clueless mommy). So this was it, just our sweet baby doing the colicky thing and me thinking "there is no way I can handle this for 9 more weeks or so." I love her, I promise, but sometimes I want to put her back. As I referred to in the previous post, this is harder than I thought it would be. And I knew it would be very hard. But then I am not so much your classic mommy-type, so it may be easier for other people with more patience.

Chris and I had watched The Happiest Baby on the Block a couple weeks ago during our very first sleepless night in which the babe would not be put down, had tried the 5 s's and found them helpful but not the God-send advertised.

But, I just decided to try them again. "Save us, Dr. Karp," I said to the cosmos. So I swaddled her--meh. Then I held her on her side. This does usually calm her down a little bit--at least for a good couple minutes. Then I stuck a pacifier in her-she does not like that much. Then I started to move her around like a jello jiggler--again with meh results. Then I shushed her a bunch and realized I would not be able to keep it up. I told Chris we needed a white noise machine and he said he had something on his i-phone. So... we turned it on, put it right up to baby's ear and she started to settle down. Within one minute she was silent and a few minutes later she was a-sleep. We looked at each other as though we had just won the lottery. Could it be? Oh please oh please, Dr. Karp and God, let this keep working!

And yes, parenting a newborn IS all I think about right now though the fog is starting to lift.

Holy crap, parenting is hard!

Our sweet little girl, Adele Regine, was born on December 5th at 7:24 am. I know I am biased, but I think she is pretty gorgeous for a newborn. We love her, but this is definitely the hardest thing I have ever done. Labor and delivery was hard, but taking care of her sweet butt is harder! Kudos to all the amazing parents out there.

Nothing to say

Seriously. Not working and waiting around for a baby to make her exit will do that. I think I'll go do some more tidying, go for a walk, and then read a book.

Manna, and it's time I said thanks

So I sort of feel like my job needs a tribute. Over three years working with the same people (well some of the same people plus a revolving cast of characters), the last two of which have been spent in the same cubicle (I feel like it has my perma-germs), on different aspects of the same large-scale IT project meant to make the government itself fitter, happier, and more productive (p.s. we downloaded this Radiohead lullaby album from itunes and it is awesome). That's something.

Without this job I've had for the last three years we probably wouldn't own our home (and have been able to fix it's myriad quirks and dangers) and I wouldn't have saved enough to be able to try freelancing now. It was pretty much manna from heaven as it was something that I really needed and that has sustained me and us so very well and I did very little to get it. Seriously I sent out a bajillion resumes and went to muchos interviews to get my job BEFORE this one, but this one I just got a phone call. And just like the Hebrews, I have complained plenty about that manna. Because it was never quite what I wanted, even if it was very much what I and my family needed.

Though I'm impressed and grateful that computers work, do I really care to know about system design? Not really. And is there even a spot for the barest schmidgen of creativity in this job? Not really. But there's no point in dwelling on that part now.

This sweet day has its bitterness. The bitterness is mostly me never having appreciated what I had enough.

Give me a few months and I'll probably miss having people around everywhere too. Brilliant people and people you wonder how they are keeping up the charade of competence. Nice people, most of them, though some are neurotic. A good number of genuine people with a few fake ones thrown in for contrast. People I trust. And people that trust me. Just people whose faces I will no longer see. People I spend more time with then I spend with El Esposo. People that threw me a surprise baby shower. How stinkin' sweet that was. These are people that realize there is more to life than when the servers will be available, or whether I have filled in my timesheet correctly, or what my status update is this week. I almost certainly should have given them more credit.

Goodbye Job.

Freak out time

So today a woman on the elevator asked me when I was due and I said "eleven days."

WHAT?

I hope we don't drop her.

I am for real

I finished! My first really big freelance editing project. I'm pretty proud of the publication as it should be very insightful and impactful for people that read it. I may talk more about that when it is officially published. I feel like an actual professional or something.

And now I can finally organize all the baby stuff.

Feeling Elliot Smith

Rainy fall days always make me think of Elliot Smith. This has been the case ever since a little over 5 years ago when I was working at this depressing temp job because no one would hire me to do anything real and one day I walked down the street to Dupont Circle (the location was cool, the job was not) and started to feel as if the rain were playing a song on everyone's black umbrellas (they had to be black). At first it was just a sort of familiar rhythm, then I felt like I could hear piano keys being played by fat fingers, the tones getting lower and lower. It seemed that everyone was walking 3/4 time, too. Eventually I figured out that the world was playing Elliot Smith's Waltz #2. I've blogged about this before (probably five years ago) but it seems right today, too. Here's the audio of the song since I didn't like any of the live versions as much:

Feeling Expansive

The other day I asked El Esposo if my face was bigger. He said yes. And when I asked about my backside he said definitely wider. Which is fine, so I say. The baby's gotta come out somehow. And the extra er fuel - yeah that's what it is - is for helping her grow after she is born.

But then somebody sent me pics from my work baby shower just a few days ago and I was like is that really me? That short round woman? (I think the roundness makes me look shorter). And also I am growing out of my maternity clothes now. Not convenient. But I just have to hold out for two more weeks wearing work-appropriate attire and then it's all about wearing sweats and just embracing the bigness.

I know people get tired of it but I really welcome the idea of sitting around in sweats right now.

Zombie "Us"es

I'm not sure if that was the right way to pluralize us. Anyway, here we are in all of our utter putrescence:



The pic doesn't quite give the full effect, but we did win first place at the zombie party, mostly because of how utterly disgusting El Esposo was AND because of our extra-special prop of the Unborn! Which is her latest nickname. Four weeks to go! BRAINS!!!

Safety Net-less

Well, it's official. I just sent my resignation letter effective November 25th. There were a lot of reasons I decided to just go ahead and resign, but one of the most compelling ones for me (not so much for El Esposo) is because now I have to succeed in freelance writing. I have no safety net. Not that we're total idiots--we do have some savings. But, I like the feeling of taking a flying leap. Honestly, it feels more my style than sitting in an office for five years did--though I do think that part was essential to my master plan. But it feels about time to re-invent myself. Why not become a mother and a freelancer at the same time?

I know it is a serious luxury that I get to even try this. I know that we have been blessed immensely to even arrive at this crossroads. I know that even if right now I'm feeling like I believe in the master plan I came up with five years ago it could easily get squashed since I am not really the one that controls my own master plan. But these moments of freefall without a safety net are going to happen in life, and sometimes it's how we know we are alive.

We are getting so excited to meet baby girl D. El Esposo thought he could feel her tiny hand fluttering around in my belly last night.

Business Ethics

Due to my academically squandered Freshman year in college (practiced a lot of guitar, watched a lot of movies, took a lot of roadtrips), I will always hear the phrase "Business Ethics" in the voice of Adam Sandler playing the character Billy Madison.

I think a lot of us have brushes with business ethics all the time, but I have recently had a very classic dilemma: to maternity leave or not to maternity leave?

Here's the situation: I have gone back and forth about the merits of my job but I have decided I don't plan to go back. Basically this is my chance to try something I might like a lot more and I'm going to try it, and yeah I also want to be home most of the time with baby girl. I reserve the right to change my mind, but I don't plan on going back to my current job. I'm just over it. It's a good job but I don't like it. Maybe I sound like a spoiled brat.

I recently shared this with my current supervisor, who advised me to not make my decision yet. Wait and see how the freelance thing is going, she said, and in the meantime get your disability pay. Others I have talked to in a more theoretical sense have said the same thing. Take the money, you earned it, everyone does it, etc.

Except for HR. I talked to HR and they told me that disability pay for new mommies is not supposed to be a reward for work you have already done. It is an incentive to retain employees. Also, I know that each person that takes advantage of the situation to "take the money and run" makes it that much harder for the next pregnant woman to be taken seriously.

But, we could really use the money. ESPECIALLY because I don't plan on coming back. And because our house is never done breaking. Though it's not like we're going to be on food stamps. We'll just tighten the budget until things start to take off with ye olde business.

(Side note: I realize the whole "starting a home-based business" is becoming a bit cliche among certain mommies, but luckily my business is going to be based on skills I have a master's degree and many years of experience in, not a trendy thing I can sell on etsy. I am hoping this increases my chances of prospering. And I am already doing it; I just need to expand.)

Anyway I made my decision. But I am curious what my 2-3 readers think about the ethics of maternity leave.

being a homebody

I am upstairs editing articles written from the perspectives of Jews, Muslims and Christians that all participated in inter-faith dialogues in various countries. They are actually really interesting. This one Rabbi's article knocked my socks off.

Downstairs the neighbor kids are going to town in our music room. I have no idea whether they are being supervised but I think El Esposo is putting up drywall in the next room. I have to admit I have heard some not-half-bad drum beats amidst all the noise.

We love our neighbors. Seriously. A couple days ago for no good reason they brought over their "extra" lunch for us and it was amazing: delicate aromatic rice with tender halal beef and cucumber/tomato/awesome salad and then yogurt sauce on the side to dredge all of the deliciousness in. Why did we not take a picture? Oh, probably because they do this all the time.

vomit practice

How does this:



Become this?



It's pretty easy, actually. Simply open the fruit cup by the tab facing towards you and angled slightly up (it helps if you are or your belly is a large target). Then just watch in amazement as the juice squirts out as through a water hose that you put your finger over. The result is a beautiful splatter painting all over your shirt.

The bonus here is that if you do this early enough in the day while at work you can also smell like packaged fruit juice all day long.

poised to fall

So, this is me, apparently:



Some people are so good at these things but I am not. My brain is so full with trying to not slack off too bad at work and edit 25 articles for my freelance gig at night and go to childbirth class and read a million books about how to get a kid out of me and then what to do with it when it comes out and keeping El Esposo from going insane with all the housework. I forget little details like making sure the building is reserved for this church activity I am in charge of planning. Or paying our only bill that can not be automated. Or doing the most mundane errands to avoid tax evasion.

Is there some dark cave that I can crawl into that will supply all needed nutrients to me via a tube?

Okay, just kidding, sort of.

The house of cards will probably fall and then I will start building another one. Maybe I should take an engineering course?

Sorry for the whining.

The voice coach taught me to sing; he couldn't teach me to love

El Esposo and I have been very productive lately. We have done lots of baby prep, house work and organization, and I have started a new relatively large freelance contract which means I get to work an extra ten hours a week for the next six weeks (which would be slightly more awesome if I didn't already work 45 hours a week and wasn't 7 months pregnant, but--you know--I'll take it). El Esposo is still planning on hanging a bunch of drywall in our gutted basement room, and, with some help, regrading the lawn so no more water gets in the aforementioned room. And then there's the missing shingle or two on the roof-blech. Homeownership. This Wednesday we start taking our childbirth classes. We expect all of this to pretty much take us up to full term with the bebe.

So, last night, we somehow ended up staying up way late for a Sunday night with me going through several of my old CD's and playing snippets for El Esposo. He was most impressed with this one:



Which I totally agreed with. I am not a Pavement super-fan like a certain other member of my family, but Brighten the Corners doesn't sound so aged and obviously nineties as a lot of my other old stuff. It still fits right into the indie milleu that has followed--and is frankly better than most of it. If you missed it way back in 1997, now is still a good time. Old Man Malkmus sounds a bit brighter and more brilliant than the more recent stuff I have heard, which is still pretty quirky and interesting. I don't know enough to tell you whether it's the quintessential Pavement album. I'm guessing probably not. But it may be the most consistently awesome. To each his own, of course, but I think if you don't love screaming along to "Stereo" you might just be no fun at all.

summer illustrated

I still haven't solved my camera's technical issues, but here are some pics from El Esposo's phone.

Hiking in the Shenandoahs for birthday luxury camping weekend

Hitting the beach on labor day weekend Friday (hardly anyone was there yet), or maybe this was early Saturday morning while everyone was sleeping?


Beach hair, though a lot of the time mine was crazier than this. I just want to clarify that the weirdness is not due to the fantastic haircut.


A self-portrait + the condo + farmer's tan + fetus at approximately 6 months

*SAND ART*
Since I couldn't ride the human slingshot, we attempted art while at the beach. The first attempt, Reclining Pregnant Woman, fit nicely with the "babymoon" theme. Though it actually started as a man with ridiculous eighties hair, I suggested the change. It was mostly El Esposo's handiwork. I think he did a great job.


See what care he took?


We worked together to create a dog--I mean an alligator--no a lizard--no, wait, a dragon with very buff long arms. Here I am trying to construct the face for the 67th time, hoping it will not crumble again.


67th try was the charm and El Esposo tamed the dragon... or something.



And I don't know about you, but that's good enough for me for a summer farewell.

just stuff occuring to me today

1. Today I learned that I still have not figured out how to properly open one of these

without some type of paper mishap. Actually, I might have figured it out sometime during elementary school, but that knowledge is now gone. My nine-year-old self would not be impressed. (The picture on the carton happens to be John Kerry, which is just what google brought up--hmmmm.) But really, couldn't they make it easier? The instructions on the carton never really work quite right.

2. I also realized that I have become paranoid about sick people. I read so much crap about pregnancy and thus can't avoid H1N1 and the stories are all about women dying in the third trimester and the big question of whether or not to get the vaccine when it comes out and everyone is sick right now (including El Esposo). I am not paranoid enough to wear a mask everywhere yet, though; I'm just taking up OCD handwashing. I hope this is not a sign that I'm going to overparent. Sorry, sick people. I hope you get better soon. Like really soon. Maybe I'm especially creeped out today because it's 9/11 and everything creeps me out on 9/11: working in DC and taking the train included.

3. It's worth spending the extra five bucks to get a decent umbrella. This guy with lots of time on his hands has documented why. Today I carried a working umbrella for a change, which kept me from yelling at the umbrella in a frustrated fashion where I could be easily mistaken for one of those mentally ill homeless people walking the streets of the city.

Everyone take care of yourselves. It is always on this day that I wonder what -- other than national mourning -- can ever unify us. Maybe we can just be nice to people: sick people, homeless people, manufacturers of milk cartons...

the final countdown

eleven weeks left of the J-O-B.

Either A) El Esposo is Vidal Sassoon or B) We Are Too Budget-Obsessed

I let the man cut my hair. And when I say cut my hair, I mean into an actual style --short and sassy once more. It was getting ick. Was it worth saving $60? Well, probably. Though it was not a stress-free experience for either of us, I think it turned out pretty good. Pictures? Soon, hopefully.

Okay now it's too late

The Ostrich song won. And then stomped on everyone else.

It's not too late to thwart the dominant one

There are still two days to vote in the song contest. We do have a clear front-runner, which may be deserved, but it is not too late to vote for the "I got my hand bit when I tried to feed a wild animal" song or the "Tigers eat people" song or whichever song may strike your fancy. I'm lazy, so just scroll down two posts for links to the music.

Paralysis of ze brain

VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. BELOW. BELOW. BELOW
I have been suffering from what I once read about in some book sometime for some class. I think they called it "tragedy of the rich" or something. I tried to google it and the closest thing I could find was this dude Barry Schwartz who goes around talking about the "paradox of choice" and wrote a book with the same title. It's basically the more resources we have and the more the free market expands the more crap we have to wade through to make a decision on what to buy. Here's a quote I stole from wikipedia:

Autonomy and Freedom of choice are critical to our well being, and choice is critical to freedom and autonomy. Nonetheless, though modern Americans have more choice than any group of people ever has before, and thus, presumably, more freedom and autonomy, we don't seem to be benefiting from it psychologically.

—quoted from Ch.5, "The Paradox of Choice", 2004

Corollary to this is probably the whole idea of "information overload," or that when everybody is shouting all kinds of brilliance and nonesense and everything in between about the same topic and we have access to all of it, it can be overwhelming to sort it all out and it can cause a sort of brain paralysis (*cough*universal healthcare*cough*). This topic is also, of course, discussed and distilled at the source of all useful information, Wikipedia.

The most sinister recent example for me of both the "paradox of choice" and "information overload" is in the area of baby gear. Seriously, it gives me morning sickness (and I barely had the real stuff). I can not possibly remember more than 10% of the crap I have learned in reviews for strollers. My favorite is when I page through forty reviews about how darling the pattern of the fabric is -- which hello I can see the picture! My second favorite is when every single review of every type of stroller seems to indicate that this particular stroller is the best and every other stroller is a joke. But fine, I'm smart enough to tune out the biased stuff annoying as it may be. However, then you get to the unbiased reviews that indicate what's good and bad about each kind of stroller and what situations each one is best for and what size and what your baby might prefer, unless of course your baby is more like this and blah, blah, blah. The only thing I can discern from this process is that if I want to be truly prepared, I need to buy maybe 5 or 6 of them.

I thought it would help to go to the store, but this is more of the same. First of all, each store has a ridiculous number of brands and styles and yet still is not representative of all the choices out there so you find yourself wondering if something more perfect lurks at another store. Also, if you get the wonderful opportunity of a salesperson's expertise to help you, the waters are muddied all the more. Here I thought I was narrowing it down, and this dude is turning everything on its head and in a crazy way he is starting to make sense. But then he walks away and you or I may be left wondering -- was he making sense or was he just trying to make a sale? In the end I think we are going to reject all these choices and go with just one. The cheap one. Well the cheapest one that is still considered safe. And portable. Oh and comprehensive.

This my friends, is but the tip of the iceberg. There's also a huge list of must-have safety devices and comfort devices and brain development devices and . . .

And, we're only talking about baby gear here. I have not yet begun to plumb the depths of everything about the healthcare bill. And somehow I'm supposed to do my job? And my freelance gig? And my church stuff (big activity tonight I am in charge of)? And my marriage? And work on music recordings? And prepare to give birth? And write my novel? And I want to learn how to knit?

No wonder I watched some dumb TV show on hulu last night.

Challenge #4: Animals {Side A} - Various Artists

I have not sampled a single one of these songs save that which I created, mostly because I have no speakers for this computer. Notwithstanding this, I am certain you shall find brilliance of all kinds captured herein. To recap for any newcomers, these are the results of a songwriting contest based on the prompt to write a song about either a specific animal or type of animal. All songs were to be recorded in a very basic format using simple software with no editing so that the contest focuses on the songs themselves not the recording.

We have enough participants in the contest this time for an entire SIDE A of a record or a cassette. Just wrap your minds around the idea of the music here being presented in vinyl for a moment . . . oh yes. Though mysteriously there was no entry from the guy that came up with the idea, there is rock enough to go around, in alphabetical order:

Baby Birds

Meet the Fox

Ostrich

Tigerized

Tony the Super Sloth

Make sure you take it all in before you are ready to vote. Though truly we are all winners there has to be some way to decide who gets to pick the next challenge. So vote for your favorite. I don't know whether I need to say this, but voting for yourself is LAME.

The time is nigh

If you need to take the night off from partying to focus on your animal song then that is what you have to do. There will be plenty of time for partyin' after midnight.

I re-learned a little something while watching a preview for what I thought was Bring it On #3, but which I now believe after searching IMDB is actually Bring it On #5. A spunky latina taught me that it's not about winning or losing; it's about whether you "traigalo" (bring it). Also, whether you have lots of attitude. And possibly whether you shove the privileged white girl's face in it.

How successful do you think a "Bring it On" film festival would be?

get excited for rock

i know of at least five participants in the songwriting contest so far, which is a victory in and of itself. be excited for songs about mammals and fowl and maybe something else.

Songwriting Contest Extended to End of Month

What? Can I do that? I figure until such time that someone else takes over administration of the Awesome Songwriting Contest series I can do whatever I want. So your entries are now due July 31st. And that is final. Probably. Remember we are writing about either a particular animal (e.g., Tony the Tiger) or animals in general (e.g., tigers).

Luxury Camping/Cupcakes Weekend

So it wasn't quite that nice, but we did bring the queen air mattress with micro-suede top and we even took showers. It was lovely. And I learned that my $30 Walmart tent, which I have taken on several backpacking trips (eat your heart out REI), is quite impressive in the rain. Okay, it wasn't THAT much rain, but several little showers. Our dinner was also quite delicious (brats, asparagus, and croissants -- all cooked over the fire) and our breakfast was positively decadent (pancakes with maple syrup, fried eggs, sausage, and peaches). When preggo, luxury camping is the only way to go.

The next day we awoke to the most beautiful morning ever--blue sky with a smattering of feathery cirrus clouds--and a complete family of deer wandering through our campsite to chomp on the vegetation. We then went on a leisurely four-mile hike with a waterfall and ate lunch just in time to stop the pregnant lady from getting the shakes. Then we left the park, hung out with El Esposo's fam who made cupcakes to celebrate me, and went to see Harry Potter Six, which ended up being about equal parts entertaining and disappointing.

Sunday was nice and churchy and then some friends came over to surprise me and brought me . . . what? Cupcakes! And cute maternity clothes so I look less frumpy. And El Esposo gave me CDs. Yes, CDs! He knows I am more comfortable living in the nineties. In fact all of the CDs were related to bands I became a fan of in the nineties, even though they are all new for 2009: this one, of course, this one, and this one which proves El Esposo is a good listener. Probably this means I have sophisticated taste in things that last. Or that I am old. Thirty-freakin'-one. Actually, I feel pretty good about it.

Is it too late to defect to Russia?

(SONG CONTEST BELOW)

The other day I was talking to a woman from Russia that el esposo works with and she told me that she got 3 months maternity leave BEFORE the baby was born (fully paid) and 18 months AFTER the baby was born (I think part of it was full pay but most was half pay).

Do they still call it "defecting" anyway?

P.s., A quick bit of wikipedia-ing shows Russia is not normally as generous as this woman's experience, but every country except for Swaziland is more generous than the US, all offering some paid leave (from weeks to years).

Girl drummers are cooler anyway

Abby and I were wrong. Everyone else was right.

Songs Due July 25th

I thought I would remind our hardy band of three or four participants! Come on let's get it up to five this time. Five songs about animals is like half of a They Might Be Giants cd.

Meanwhile I am ridiculously tired. I think I will just sleep the day away in front of the computer. Until I drool on the keyboard. And jam up the keys. And knock over my open water bottle. And fall out of my chair. And get fired.

Staying up til midnight for me right now is like staying up til 3 am when I do not have a little kicking monster inside of me.

Little Kicking Monster's first rock concert with (theoretically) the ability to hear was pretty excellent though. LKM seemed a lot more active during Conor Oberst but I think it is because Wilco lulled him/her into a dream-like trance of magical rock musicland. And because we ate right before Conor Oberst.

Just to Say

I have agreed
to buy tickets
to Wilco
off Craigslist

even though
we hadn't discussed
spending
the money

Forgive me
they were face value
in the orchestra
and it's almost my birthday


Song-writing contest below

Song Contest # 4

Holy pregnancy brain, Batman! I keep forgetting to post this. We have another song writing contest, courtesy of the previous winner, as follows . . .

This is my idea for another Song Writing Competition. Maybe it's not a good idea, but whatever, I won so I can do whatever I want right? This is it: you must write a song whose main emphasis/thematic motivation is either (1) an animal [as in a specific, individual animal like Tony the Tiger] or (2) animals [as in tigers in general].

Freakin' animals! I mean WHY NOT? Just--I don't know if it can be wolves. Never mind, it's not my contest. Let's regroup in a month, okay? Send your (basic and lo-fi) song to rocktastica at gmail dot com. Stop being a wuss about it. Just be like Nike. You know, feel the "Instant Karma." Do It.

What kind?

So, I'm starting to show this week. It looks slightly more likely that I could be pregnant than that I had a few too many beers in college. When I look back I realize that this whole pregnancy thing is going pretty quickly, even though l am counting down the weeks until the break in the clouds known as the end of my current full-time employment happens: 22 weeks until Thanksgiving day! Not that my job is bad--it's just FINE (and I am lucky to HAVE a job), yes that's the word. But I'm about ready for a ch-ch-change.

Now people keep asking when we will find out what "kind" of baby we are having. What kind I think is a freaking genius rockstar. A drummer if we get lucky. Or maybe an accountant. Who hates the outdoors. There's nothing wrong with accountants at all. My brother is an accountant. Sort of. I mean he was and then he found something related that was more interesting. But my sister-in-law is an accountant. Sometimes. Really she's a mom, but whatever.

So far most people are guessing "girl" as the "kind" of baby we will have. Really I'm hoping "healthy, happy, non-sociopath." But (though I would love a girl kind), due to the fact that people keep telling me what they think, un-prompted of course, based on whatever brand of voo doo they may subscribe to, I am secretly kind of pulling for the "boy kind." Oops, secret is out. Though I will go back and edit this particular blog entry in a couple weeks to say the opposite for the sake of my future child's self-esteem if necessary.

Huh?

This morning I ran out of my house to drive my car to the train station, late as always, but noticed there were at least ten emergency vehicles on the road in front of my townhouse complex. Then I noticed that there were several non-emergency vehicles also clogging up the road and that my little service road/parking lot was blocked off with cones and orange tape just a few houses down. On the other side of the cones was an armored truck (I think--it looked like one). Various uniformed officials were all over the street. We spied for a while and saw some camoflauged dudes (National Guard, maybe?). El Esposo swears one of them was carrying an assault rifle. My neighbor had been outside for a while watching and his guess was bomb threat. Seriously, bomb threat in a residential neighborhood in the suburbs?

Clearly I missed my train, so I decided to take the next one. Since I had plenty of time and the road was clogged up I thought I might walk to the station, but the uniformed dudes would not let me. They wouldn't give me any info but I wasn't allowed to go that way. Now I realize I should have been more demanding as I have found no info on the incident via google. I did see a channel 4 helicopter flying around but I have not seen any info on the incident (whatever it was) on their site. I'm guessing whatever it was was a false alarm.

Meantime the news is all about the seriously scary metro incident. The Red Line has always sucked--they seem to have the most delays and problems--but this is REALLY bad. Last I heard there were nine casualties. I read a bit of Metroman's play-by-play - so terrible and bizarre.

STUCK

SO yesterday after reading Sherpa's blog entry I got really excited about working on my novel, which, I wonder if that even could have been the original writer's intent. I mean probably not, but I find all the time these days I am choosing to think of the opposite of the cynical thing, which makes me happy. So it can't be that bad, right? Even jokes referring to Sheryl Crow songs are not so bad. They aren't!

[Oh right, if you just happened upon by my blog you might have no idea that I am supposed to be A WRITER. I even went to three years of grad school for it. I certainly don't show it on this blog as I think I am usually embarassed about my recent lack of efforts in this area. I also do very little editing on this blog b/c I am SOOO sick of it. It is the main thing I do at work, where I have sold my soul to the man. I justify the job by saying it helps support El Esposo to save souls.]

Anyway I have written many a short story and I have tried to write a novel before but it just ended up being eighty pages of ruminations on "what if I were a twelve year old again?" Then at the end of last year I got a good idea. Something I really, really want to explore in fiction. Most of the fiction I write tends to answer the question "why does a person act like X or do Y?" and this one is a really interesting question to me. The gist is "How can a person possibly forgive something THAT bad? PLUS, how can a person change into something so forgiveable?" I'm not going to get into the specifics so you don't steal my idea, but anyway I've been writing many scenes with the main character and watching her morph and be funny and obnoxious and sweet and vindictive and cunning and clueless and just ALL HER and I LOVE IT.

However, I am STUCK. I have BEEN stuck, actually. This is because I am horrible at plotting. Seriously, if I could just steal an ounce of John Irving's plotting skills or maybe even J.K. Rowling's (the lady can write a compelling plot), I think I would probably be unstoppable.

Okay, enough self-congratulation plus self-pity. What I need is to figure out a couple of key things: 1) How does the betrayal go down? and 2) What does character X do for a living when he grows up?

I learned something in grad school. I learned a lot of somethings, but I learned something about myself. I learned that it is out of my weakness that I will find the pieces to build the grandest stories. It is only after much pain and defeat that I can do anything really. It's possible that this is true for lots of people.

Yet here I am waiting for brilliance to descend upon me . . .

The thing I already know is if I care enough to write a good novel I will have to slog through my own suckiness for many miles. It's called "get to work."

Sights from/on the train

...The trees are absolutely choked by Kudzu. I see it all passing in my window. The concrete canal. A woman sitting in the grass with a dog tail wagging behind her. Two men walking around in jumpsuits and hardhats. Piles of gravel. Huge satellite dishes. The VRE train official dude comes to announce that the LAW is gonna come down on us. The LAWuh! Fare evasion is now a $500 fine. The cute little lake with the dam. Trees and trees upon trees with trees standing on their heads. Trees hiding behind the backs of other trees. Poison ivy. Tennis courts and condos. Condo fees. Now approaching my stop...Approaching...

The other day I was sitting on the train next to a dude who was talking on his cell phone about someone's username and password to a government system of some kind. Just absorb that for a minute. Um ... seriously?

Update 6/16: Today the train was packed and there were NO SEATS. How does it happen that there are no available seats for anyone at my stop when normally every single one of us gets a seat? Was today "everyone new ride the VRE" day? Anyway I sure TRIED to look as pregnant as possible in the hopes that someone would gallantly offer me their seat, but the bump just is not big enough to garner any sympathy at this point. I just look a little bit chubby. Anyway I was totally fine, but sometimes I do feel light-headed so I hope today was a fluke. Today is the first day I have WANTED special treatment. I am so glad it never happened on all the days I felt like I was about to puke.

Check back in six months

So predicts Madame Zaritska:

The day you deliver, outside will be overcast. Your baby will arrive in the evening. After a labor lasting approximately 18 hours, your child, a boy, will be born. Your baby will weigh about 8 pounds, 11 ounces, and will be 22-1/2 inches long. This child will have light gray eyes and curly red hair.

Substitutes

I was going to post pictures from out trip some weeks ago, but I can't find that stupid cord that goes from my camera to my computer. And, I always forget to look for it when I actually have the time. Meanwhile, congratulations to my brother and sister-in-law that probably don't even know this blog exists! Healthy baby girl # 4born 1:30 am today! (I guess that means my new niece has the same birthday as my pal, Abz! Happy Birthday to both!) And now, here are the substitutes from google images:

The Rantings of a Street "Crazy" (a transcription)

I heard this being shouted to the general populace around noon today:

"The things they teach you
You are a Pinnochio puppet
You are a puppet with a ventriloquist
Everything THEY say
Comes through YOU
And THAT worries ME"

I thought it was pretty good.

This blog is on hold

Like that's new, right? This oh-so-active blog will be taking a two week hiatus while I am out of the country.

How did I get here? (part A)

Sometimes I have a Talking Heads moment. You know "This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful [husband]" etc. Not that I'm living some kind of pool-side charmed life, but sometimes it seems like just yesterday I was starting my first part-time job at KFC. So anyway I feel like tracing all the jobs I have held in my life in the hopes of establishing a pattern. My guess is the pattern will spell F-E-A-R O-F C-O-M-M-I-T-M-E-N-T.

1) KFC - age 16 summer through early fall until my Dad told me I needed to quit to concentrate on my "studies." Maybe he thought I was going on to become a neuro-physicist (does that exist?)

2) Pizza Hut - age 17 near the end of Senior Year, I think through the summer before college. I was actually quite bad at this job. I was a Pizza Hut waitress, but usually everyone just got the buffet.

3) Boston Market - about the same time as Pizza Hut. Yes, my food service career continues, but Boston Market felt like a step up. Not so greasy and less creeps working there.

4) McDonald's - I honestly got this job just to feel well-rounded in fast food. I got this my freshman year of college and quit two weeks later. (p.s., there is a pattern coming--it's called freshman year).

5) Telemarketing job #1 - I can't remember the name of the company b/c I held this job for about a week. I really wanted some extra money freshman year, but I just couldn't get myself to keep any of these jobs, b/c - let's face it - they sucked (and I was too busy having fun and getting crappy grades I would have to make up for later). I remember calling a few people and hearing some sad stories about how they just lost their job, their mom died, they were paying off an operation b/c they didn't have health insurance and numerous other good reasons for leaving them alone. I basically agreed that I should leave them alone and quit.

6) Enzo's Pizza - this might have happened at an earlier or later time, I can't remember, but it was when I lived at home with my parents so probably during the summer. I got the job and was fired a couple days later b/c oh yeah I'm not old enough to serve alcohol.

7) Data Entry Job - at home, very early summer after Freshman year (actually I'm sure it was still spring). I had this job for a week and got fired b/c I actually suck at data entry. I really, really suck at it. I remember crying all the way home. It is to this day the only time I have been fired for pure incompetence and the last time I was fired at all.

8) Chester Diner - Waitress. Also summer freshman year. This job was all right and I was all right at it, but it was really hard sometimes. I would work til 2 am sometimes and there was always all this bustling around, barking voices, intense looks from managers and the need to smile at the customers always. Once someone told me I looked like I'd been raised on a farm. Most of the waitresses there were world-weary single moms with two jobs, trying to get by. I was instead a college student home for the summer. So yes there was a difference.

9) Lab Technician - I got this job solely b/c my dad worked for the company. (that's right--privilege of the upper middle class). Also I had been thinking about majoring in microbiology b/c I really liked my freshman biology class. This lasted from June through August, summer of 97 after Freshman Year. Because this was a good solid full-time job that paid very well compared to what I was used to, I eventually quit the waitress job (for a while I did both). This is easily the most mind-numbing job I have ever had. But it was good money. I took this same job in summer 98, but i felt a little guilty b/c during my sophomore year I dropped out of microbiology and became an English major (shh: all the English major "internships" don't pay anything).

10) Dishwasher - I don't remember having any job experiences during sophomore year. I was lucky enough to have earned enough at my death-to-personality lab tech job to pay tuition (BYU is cheap and my parents paid for room and board). However early in my junior year Fall 98, I started getting that I'm going to need some money itch again and signed up to be a dishwasher. Another job I quit within the week. Seriously, $5/hour to wear an apron and stand all day and wash dishes full of gross fatty college food. I mean KFC was way better than that. Why I kept taking these jobs I would inevitably quit is probably based on some deep psychological need. Or pure stupidity of someone whose brain is not yet fully developed.

11) Assisted Living (fake) CNA - This job I kept for about a year. Yes, job #11 was the one that finally ended the pattern of starting and quitting on a whim. It was hard, but I liked it. I really liked the old people. I really liked being trusted with the responsibility to care for them. I really liked the homey atmosphere (there were about ten residents). There was plenty of gross stuff to deal with--three words: Exploding Colostomy Bag. But it was the first job where I felt like I was really doing something useful. I liked it so much more. This brings us to age twenty and a good stopping point.

tryptophan

Somebody brought in a fried turkey to work. So nice of them. I just finished eating my portion about ten minutes ago

I'm already feeling tired lately so tired + durgs, I mean drugs, even if naturally occuring = me passed out and slobbering on the keyboard in a few more minutes . . .

Everyone gets a second chance at rock stardom

The band is preparing for a gig, despite lacking our co-leader, which seems to make me the leader, which is okay but a little weird. Can we confirm that this gig is happening? Anyway, we may well play all eight songs that we know, which will be most triumphant. I am teaching the bass player to play lead guitar on one song. Our drummer is going to sing one song. I guess it makes no sense for me to play the drums on any of the songs, especially because I'm not any good, but I wish I could. At the very least I will stomp on a tambourine while playing rhythm guitar. Everybody wants to stomp on a tambourine.

Winners

So it looks like the poll is over and we have a winner and that winner is Jordan. Though Jordan does have the advantage of a more polished sound than the rest of the entries (according to association rules only the song itself matters), I think this was a fair assessment as it was one very catchy tune. The association rules also say Jordan is now in charge of picking the next challenge, but that may or may not happen on this blog.

Anyway we are really all winners as those were all pretty decent entries. Isn't it fantastic? Just by trying you win. Feel proud of yourselves.

And yes I do think it is fair to cite association rules even though there may technically be no association.

Tales of woe and woah (challenge # 3 answered)

So the contest this time ended up being between me and my brother and my brother's friends. This is because all the other songwriters I know are either a)lazy or b)afraid. Oh, except of course there's El Esposo, who--though a wonderful non-lazy non-afraid human being, has been busy with "other stuff." And I better come out with this: My song is not really MINE, though I did perform it solo. It belongs to the band Minus Dave, which consists of former members of the band The Curators, excepting co-lead singer and little brother, Dave (in other words Me--who wrote the melody and half the lyrics, the Drummer and Future Senator--who wrote the music, and the Enigmatic Bass Player--who wrote the other half of the lyrics).

FYI, Little Brother's friends are actually pretty darn good. This is going to be a hard vote. Just like American Idol!

For your listening pleasure, entries by:

Dave
Minus Dave
Jordan
Spencer

Minor setback, down in flames, or into the sunset

So far I have received two entries to the songwriting challenge. I am told there will be two more. I am still working on mine. I've got the beginning and the middle, but I can't decide on the ending. I am torn almost equally between the protagonist experiencing a minor setback, going down in flames, or riding off into the sunset. I have always felt this way, but ever since seeing the movie Stranger than Fiction, I feel even more the burden it is to decide the fate of made-up people.

Here's a question: Would some kind of two-way radio device work inside a hot air balloon with the other party several miles away on the ground?

If yes I can totally finish the song.

I think I'm converting

(Don't forget the Songwriter's Challenge.)

To the VRE, of course! I've spent the past two and a half years taking the bus and metro every day and now I'm turning my back on all that. This would never have been possible without the sponsorship of my dear employer, who is now reimbursing for travel expenses as the VRE is only a hair cheaper than parking downtown everyday.

In total the VRE is not really faster than bus/metro since it doesn't stop that near to my office. However, there are other pluses.

#1. Built in Exercise. I really mean to exercise more but I don't usually. When I get home I usually start working on a side project I have going on (because I love love work). The VRE stop is somewhere around eight or nine blocks from my office instead of the one block I used to walk from the metro. Not only that but I get to walk across the national mall when it is relatively peaceful and gee, it's kind of pretty. Also, when I get up early enough I can also walk to the station from my house.

#2. It's Comfier. It is easier to both sleep my way to work and, if I choose to, work on my laptop, as it is less bumpy and the chairs are a wee bit nicer on the bottom.

#3. More Reliable. I know VRE has not won any awards for reliability so in general it may not be more reliable than metro. But it is much more reliable than MY bus route. I have missed the morning bus on an average of once per week since I moved. I was probably spoiled where I used to live as the bus route was one of the most reliable in the system, but I just can not deal with standing outside for 15 minutes in the cold for no reason at a rate of once per week when no other buses are coming because the last bus of the morning came five minutes early! So far the VRE never comes earlier than I expect, and if it's coming later at least I KNOW I haven't missed it due to the other hundred people at the station.

#4. There's a bathroom AND you're allowed to drink water. I don't think I need to explain this one, but just say Hallelujah.

Don't get me wrong; there are things that bother me about the VRE, not the least of which being the tomb-like silence that pervades. Sometimes I wonder whether anyone would make a peep if I started having a heart attack. You think the metro is quiet? Try the VRE. However, this morning I met a nice woman named Patricia, and the tomb-like silence was broken.

Fiscal Responsibility and Rock

Though I may have been called a liberal, politically, I am quite fiscally conservative in my personal life. El Esposo and I just bought some musical instruments the other day, but the money we spent is completely accounted for within our budget and no credit was necessary. Little things like taking lunch to work, making my falling apart boots last one more winter, holding onto my "allowance" money like a miser over the months, often using the "cash back" feature of my credit card to pay for our entertainment (yes, I am THAT cheap), and El Esposo saving every last penny of the tip money he has made (very much in the style of obsessive compulsive) over a couple years playing gui-tar at a certain place every week, make it so we can afford a new keyboard:



and the guitar El Esposo has been drooling over since birth:

We also shopped around A LOT before dropping the cash and made a list of must have and nice-to-have features for the keyboard, did a cost-benefit analysis, and voila.

On the other hand, we are fiscally lucky to the max. Neither of us has lost a job as the economy has been tanking and the money we lost in the stock market was pretty small potatoes since we're young. My raise last year was perfectly the amount we needed to buy our new place with enough money down so we won't have to worry as much to pay the mortgage, which is technically less than the rent of our last relatively affordable one bedroom apartment (not including taxes and stuff).

So, this is where our fiscal luck starts to run out: Because we bought our house a week before the end of last year instead of this year, we will have to pay back the $8000 first-time homebuyer tax credit we get this year. But, the truth is, that's more our style anyway. Though I would like to add a provision that since we are paying our tax break back, our children owe $8000 less towards the deficit, but instead I guess we'll just have to try and teach them fiscal responsibility so they can handle whatever is asked of them.

In this attitude, I went to the recovery.gov website and left this comment, which possibly no one will ever read:

"I really like the idea of this site and hope that it lives up to its promise to track how the money is spent and how the recovery is manifest. We have all heard a lot about accountability and transparency from President Obama, and I am sure that he realizes accountability means not only reporting on the good stuff. What I would really like to see added, either here or elsewhere as a .gov site is a way to track how the stimulus/recovery is being paid for. I realize it is not being paid for up front and the government is essentially taking out a gigantic loan to be paid for by our future prosperity. I'm not going to object to that idea as I have not done enough research to counter it. However, since all loans need to be paid back, I would like to see that activity tracked. I understand that the immediate focus is economic recovery, but following quickly on its heels has got to be balancing the budget and reducing the deficit. I would love to see the connection made between the two. I supported President Obama in the election and especially identified with his talk of responsibility. Why not use the government to model the kind of responsibility we all need in our own individual households?"

And, if you'll excuse me, it is now time to rock.

P.S., THE CONTEST IS STILL RUNNING THROUGH FEB 28.

Challenge #3: Story Time

It's songwriting challenge # 3!!! Ladies and gents, you know the rules. 1)Write a marvelous song that involves singing (or something like it) and an instrument of some kind based on a prompt, 2)record that song using the most basic of equipment (e.g., garageband on mac or whatever you can download free on your pc) on one track if at all possible, 3)email that track to rocktastica at gmail dot com, and 4)then we (participants and the huge audience at rocktastica) vote. For this one you get until Saturday, February 28th.

The prompt: Write a song that tells a story. A song that just sort of refers to events that might make up a story does not count. This should be a regular beginning-middle-end type of story. For examples, see Springsteen's The River or Clem Snide's Mike Kalinsky.

Of wasteful spending and stimuli

On facebook, one of the many people that signed up to be "friends" with me because el esposo refuses to succumb to facebook . . .
(both of which are fine, by the way -- 1) there's a very good reason to stay away from facebook: the like i need more ways to waste time online argument, AND 2) people I don't really know might want to someday see pictures of our future progeny to satisfy their curiousity and whatever that's probably ok as long as el esposo knows that you are not a psycho). . .
anyway, this guy, posted this article about what's wrong with the stimulus bill currently under debate.

I don't doubt that there may be some things wrong with the stimulus bill, but I do think that we should take time to get past the semantics that make something seem bad (let's face it; anything can be made to seem bad or good) and understand the programs we are talking about before getting all smug and sneery about the horrible wasteful spending or anything for that matter. It's called critical reading, my friends. I'm sure YOU all understand that anyway, but I don't think everyone does. And politicians often count on the fact that we aren't critical readers and prefer sound-bytes for rallying around. Have I ever fallen for this? Almost definitely.

For example, on their list of offenders is this beauty: $160 million for "paid volunteers" at the Corporation for National and Community Service.

I cringe to hear the term "paid volunteers." Isn't that an oxymoron? How can this be? And look how they put it in quotes! The ultimate shame.

But wait, I've actually been a "paid volunteer" before, haven't I? In a program that fell under the Corporation for National and Community Service, and Americorps, called the Student Conservation Association (which gets a lot of their donations from individuals and some of their donations through Americorps). I made a cool $42 per "paycheck" (every two weeks) so that I could buy dirt cheap groceries for myself. I also received an education award at the end of my three-month stint for $1000.

In return I was a park ranger and led student groups on tours and educational activities, sometimes taking kids that had lived their whole lives inside the city on a hike in the mountains, and teaching all ages about the world around them. The experience really changed my life and I like to think I helped change the lives of some of the children, who got to learn in a different environment for once, and maybe become interested in biology in a way they never had before. Most of the SCA volunteers I have known, though, are workhorses, while I in comparison was a bit of a wuss. They are doing hard labor maintaining and updating trails all over the country. And of course Americorps sponsors all kinds of volunteerism, from conservation activities to community development to youth programs. Last I checked, a year-long volunteer in Americorps programs got a teeny-tiny stipend like mine and an education award of around $5000. These kind of programs serve mainly college-age young adults, but it varies, and they provide the opportunity to do something good for someone else on a full-time basis and not have to get an extra job on the side to afford it.

So that's a "paid volunteer." Just in case you were wondering.

The rub is that I'm pretty lazy about this stuff. Am I "MJ the soon-to-be-business-owner Writer" taxpayer generica going to examine the whole stinkin' stimulus bill? Nah. I just hope they don't screw up too bad and that they include some smart energy technology stuff. And okay the $7500 tax credit for homebuyers would really sweeten our deal. But truth be told, I'm not so sure that's a good idea to not make us pay that back. I mean we are going to need to create some revenue at some point, right? Or is that the job of my unborn progeny?

The only real point I have is that not everything is as it seems.

zero to awesome

the songwriter's challenge returns. i bet you thought i'd given up. well, i nearly had but little brother came up with a challenge. i'm just waiting for a return phone call to clarify something and it will be posted here in the rare case that random-person-i'm-not-already-related-to wants to participate.

in other news, minus dave might be getting together soon (aka the curators minus little brother) for a reunion show at my friend's house party.

also, el esposo played a show last friday with such style. it was too short though.

and the band room is ready for action. we christened it with a jam session the other day and i'm thinking we need to bang the hll out of the drums while the townhouse next to ours is still vacant. ideally we need to get really good at the drums, lay down some tracks for the cds we were working on oh a couple years ago or so, and finally be done with it. any tips from drummers out there? zero to awesome in one month?

Because your kiss is on my . . .

El Esposo and I are sitting in Taco Bell last night (that's right, Taco Bell--eat your heart out--this is our awesome life) when this charming mediocre elevator-y number from the eighties comes on. I'll refresh you: "Because your kiss, your kiss is on my . . . because your kiss, your kiss I can't resist. Because your kiss is on my . . . for the rest of my life." (Basically it sucks). Anyway, we are in the mood to have fun with song lyrics on our way to check out this sledding hill down the road for what may be our one and only chance this year.

Side-note: Every year El Esposo gets excited about sledding and is always talking about how we should go and I'm always like, "On 1/2 an inch of snow? At the most? That's not sledding; that's called grassburn." I'm a party pooper, right? So last night I'm trying to make up for it since we live in the suburbs now and we got maybe two inches before that nice layer of ice, and anyway we find ourselves at Taco Bell because our kitchen is half-tiled and not really usable.

So I'm making Jerry Seinfeld-style jokes:

"What sort of list are we talking about here? The good list? The bad list? A list? B list? Naughty list? List of people I have kissed before? That's not really saying much."

And El Esposo asks what am I talking about. "Um," I hesitate because I'm thinking it's pretty seriously obvious, and then I say "Your kiss is on my list?"

To which El Esposo replies, "It's lips, not list. List doesn't even make sense."

It's a good point, but I'm still thinking, "Who said anything about sense? It rhymes with can't resist."

So which is it? Try and resist the temptation to google.

p.s., sledding was not bad at all

Working from home

It's 2:37 pm and I am still in my PJ's. I have more reasons than that to thank Martin Luther King, Jr. (who seriously was inspirational beyond almost anyone except maybe Helen Keller, right?), but nevertheless it is a perk I enjoy, and it is no small thing as my commute is increasingly burdensome.

Yesterday, El Esposo and I cataloged all of our home improvement completed so far and what still remains. It's a lot on both ends, but I'm beginning to really like this place. Just for fun, here's some stuff that was on the list for week one (aka Christmas week)

12/22
Closed on house
Painted master bedroom
Up until 2:30am with the intoxicated carpet dude
12/23
Finished painting master bedroom
Spackled hole in office wall and a little throughout house
12/24
Painted office
Painted living room/hallways/stairway
12/26
Painted dining room
Hung blinds in office
Installed switch covers
Carpet installed
De-Christmased the tree in front yard (for the first time in years)
Installed powder room light fixture and mirror
12/27
Moved out and in/assembled furniture (bed, bookshelf, etc.)
Moved and installed fridge
Installed cupboard “liners”
Unpacked essentials

Here's a picture of the dining room, where I ate my lunch today.

Bah. I spent most of today troubleshooting technology.

whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever it’s whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever like whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever today whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever never whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever happened whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever

It's time to name . . . . . . the company

Nope, not the baby.

Anyway, one of my freelance non-profit "clients" wants to actually pay me to do some actual writing, so it occurs to me that I need to be able to actually bill them, so I need an actual company. Yes, actually. Even though I fancy myself a writer, I am crap at titles. My main idea right now is "Melissa, the writer" with or without the comma. That's the sort of ideas a near-genius-level IQ will get you.

What does your near-genius-level IQ have for me?

I will not be running into the President-Elect at Subway after all

Apparently we are not allowed to leave the building right now as it is a security risk because Obama's doing . . . something (leaving for or coming back from his big meeting at the white house today?). Glad I brought my lunch today.

So, do we need to get Obama a pope-mobile or something?

Update: Okay, it was a suspicious package issue. Obama probably wasn't even there at all today since he was having lunch with 4 presidents.

No I did not catch a glimpse of the President-elect from the window this morning

But several of my coworkers did.

Obama's transition team HQ is in the building across the street, which appears as drab as ours. I heard the rumor of Obama arriving from my cubicle, but did not clamor at the window across the room. It's a long walk and I'm not very fond of clamoring. Maybe later this week. Or maybe I'll run into him at Subway or Potbelly. Wreck on wheat?