The Uber Taunt

On the day before the Super Bowl, my 4 year old says to his father: "Who's winning the Super Bowl?"

"Nobody. The game isn't until tomorrow," says Mr. Scobie.

"So you don't even know who's winning?!" says the kid in his most sarcastic voice.

This is on top of both kids being basically nonplussed that the Pats lost 3 weeks ago, and claiming that they will be rooting for the Steelers tomorrow.

Bad Feminist?

We watched The Hangover* last night and I about died laughing. This is the kind of movie my kids will know every line of in 10 years. Okay, maybe hopefully more like 15 if I am a good mother. I recall that at the time this movie was released, I heard that it was misogynist and had no strong female characters. Seeing the movie confirmed for me that I am apparently incapable of thinking like a good feminist anymore, because my reaction after watching it was: Of course there were no strong female characters! It was a bachelor party movie! And somehow its misogynistic to show strippers IN VEGAS!?

No one should expect to see strong female characters in bachelor movies, old war movies where women didn't see combat, football movies (but see Any Given Sunday. Or don't.). It would make very little sense for a narrative realism perspective, and they aren't necessary to make a decent movie.

Also kudos to the filmmakers for building a movie around a city's tourism board slogan.

* Actual dialogue in my life:

Mr. Scobie: What are you blogging about?

Me: The Hangover.

Mr. Scobie: You mean the one you had Christmas morning?

Me: No, the movie we watched last night.

Mr. Scobie: You should also blog about the one from Christmas.

Seven Years, No Itch

After an evening of basically begging my kids to go to sleep, it's hard to imagine that 24 hours ago, I was having a lovely anniversary dinner with Mr. Scobie, seven years after the Attack of Nerves we affectionately call Our Wedding. We went to A16, where my brother-in-law is cooking. Very good dinner. Here's a cute but blurry picture of them.

Red Sox Mania

Here's how bad it is.* I am sufficiently en-fanned to have (a) gotten B the MLB Extra Innings package on cable and didn't even link it to any sort of gift-giving event** and (b) I understand 89% of the jokes in this video.  

* Or good it is, for my husband. 

** It might get the retro-active birthday treatment if I don't think of anything else to get him. 

I Am Very Busy Being Unemployed, Thanks

My absence from this page is due not to any actual busy-ness on my part. However, my mom visited last week, and my computer is in the room where she stayed, and the kids are drawn to her like little fireflies at all times, so I couldn't really sit down and think much. It was great to have her, especially to celebrate my 35th birthday, which was largely uneventful. 

I did make the mistake of looking at this book, The Book of Ages, in a bookstore. This book has a list of all the important things that have happened when various famous people were a certain age. By age 35, many famous people had done many important things, and some of them were listed at "35" only because they had died at that age. Merriwether Clark committed suicide at age 35, for example. Van Gogh cut his ear off. These are things for which people are remembered, and so of course I had an existential mini-crisis about how I haven't done anything for which I can be remembered, and don't even seem on track to do, unless one of my kids turns out horribly terribly wrong and I have to sit behind him for a 6-month televised trial. 

Can't dwell on it though.

Other stuff: I have interviewed for one job FIVE times, with 10 different people. Hopefully I will hear about that this week, in which case I will be able to step up my car purchasing. That is to say, if I get the job offer, I will accept it, and then we will need a reliable car for my job-related use, and our family's comfort. Currently, we all wedge ourselves into a two-door 1997 Honda Civic that has no radio and no leg room. Its awful. So what car to get preoccupies me. As I have said before, I want the VW Jetta Sportwagon TDI (it's a clean diesel engine). Mr. Scobie alternately prefers a Prius (for the internal space) or something with 4 Wheel Drive and a third row, because of all of the trips to Tahoe we will no doubt soon be taking with all of our kids' friends piled in the back.  A friend has suggested the Honda Civic GX, which would require installing a Natural Gas pump in our garage. Since I have this kind of time on my hands, I have not only considered it, but I have read up on starting a Natural Gas filling station franchise.  JOB NEEDED.

Because its unlikely I will write another post immediately after this one, I will go on. The other new thing I am into is Kiva, which is an on-line community/non-profit organization that does micro-lending. I had heard about it awhile ago, and then read an endorsement from that incredibly hot African economist who Deborah Solomon interviewed in the NYT Mag yesterday. Wow, is she awesome or what? Probably not even 35.  Anyhoo, so then I went and checked out Kiva, and made one $25 loan. Loans go fast; apparently its competitive to make a loan because so many more people are interested in lending than groups can get loan recipients connected. Anyway it seems cool. Check it out. 

Finally, did anyone else read this "cautionary tale" in the NYT yesterday about how Japanese frugalness during their recession contributed to the economic malaise they suffered in the 1990s and still depresses growth? (or something. I am not totally comfortable with all these terms myself). What struck me was how all the of the things which are "bad habits" of the depression are actually sound environmental measures. Using gray water, driving less, drinking less, eating all the available food rather than throwing it out? Let me just say that is fucked up that those things would be discouraged in order for there to be an economic recovery.  Our reckless and wasteful lifestyle may be an "economic engine" but it surely means that we can only get through another couple of economic cycles before we are at a environmental end-times scenario. It seems like these things should not be irreconcilable. There must be ways to make money from re-couping gray water, for example. 

That's what's going on with me these days? How are you? Oh, and check out my cousin Zoe and the review of her dance company in the Boston Globe.

More Vay-Kay Photos

Several clay pigeons died for our recreational pleasure.


Q-ball rides.

Summer of Love

I want to commemorate the momentous occasion of legal marriage for all that has arrived in California today by saying that not only does gay marriage not erode my own straight marriage, but it makes it stronger. I far prefer being part of an institution that is equal and non-discriminatory and my marriage is a better one because now more people can share and enjoy its gifts and responsibilities.

And in that vein, I hope y'all caught the Onion-esque article in the Times the other day: Gay Couples Find Marriage Is A Mixed Bag. Talk about articles that write themselves. I hope they follow it up with "Straight Couples Find Marriage Is A Salmagundi."

Today's Events

Today, Mr. Scob and I are mock-deposing journalism students for a Journalism and Legal Ethics class. Yeah, they really teach it. Hard to believe, huh? It will be fun to see B in deposition action and vice versa, no doubt.

That's really all that's happening today.

For a giggle, check out Younger Than McCain.

(Shaking My Head)

Today's Stuff White People Like concerns San Francisco. So accurate that I can't really even laugh.

Where have I been, you wonder? Most recently, like all weekend, we've been easter egg hunting. L had so much sugar this morning that at one point he clutched his heart and said it hurt. It was pounding terrible hard. Now that The Big Case has wound down, B is El Futzo, and so new plants have been planted, lists have been made, skis have been loaded into the car, and the guys are off for the mountains. And by guys, I mean B and L. Qu and I are going to stay close to home, maybe go out to dinner tonight alone.

Aside from work, I am actually ramping up on this wierd campaign I'm on. Once we (my slate) get our website up, I will blog more about it, but for now, its all too ephemeral to even talk about.

"Daytona 500 is this weekend"

Guess who said that. Nah, don't bother.

Another reason that politics are the topic duh jor is that we are in the sports wasteland between the Super Bowl and something called "pitchers and catchers". Its a lonely time for a certain kind of man. Fortunately, Sports Illustrated publishes it swimsuit issue during this very dry sports spell. While it does include photos of athletes' wives, I don't recommend that you buy it. You can stop by and steal it from our house. At least, one of you can.

In campaign news, one of McCain's senior advisors has all but endorsed Obama. Paul Krugman is off his meds, for no apparent reason. What kind of world do we live in where David Brooks is the Columnist for Hope and Krugman is the baseless, poo-flinging crank? And then, this is funny:



Update: This is really funny. I like the idea that someone out there is clamoring for lowfat milk. hee hee.

Innovations in Dental Hygiene

In keeping with the spirit of the day, herewith my new year's resolutions:

1. Floss more*
2. Figure out what it means to add more fiber to one's diet, without actually eating Uncle Sam cereal
3. "Develop an interest" (This means "hobby", not "lover")
4. Stay politically idealistic in this election cycle until at least South Carolina, possibly all the way until February 6
5. Devise a system for organizing all the crap on my desk at home
6. Get other adult members of my household to join me in more assiduously disposing of compostables in a receptacle from whence, or within which, composting can occur**

That's about all I can think of.


*Me hubby and I are often (at least after either of us has a dentist's appointment)musing how much dental priorities have changes since even just our young adulthood. Flossing and "deep cleaning" are the rage now. Do you ever remember them doing that 3-4-3, 4-5-6 measuring five years ago? It suggests that Dental Medicine is more art than science, or is at least 50% alchemy and 20% guesswork. My certainty about this were heightened when my new dentist offered me a glass of wine to ease the anxiety of getting a filling recently (sub-footnote: I really like my new dentist).

** This gives me an idea: Mr. Scobie, I will abide by any system of organization you impose on me, for BOTH my desk and my dresser, if you agree to put all food waste in the green bin. Think about it. You have until January 6 (The Twelfth Day of Christmas) to accept or, less likely, reject my offer. (sub-footnote: I know you are wondering why I don't just wander around the manor property to find Mr. S and ask him myself. It's a good question, but mainly it's because it isn't worth the 20 steps that it entails, and I won't remember to ask him when I am done typing this.)

Cracking Myself Up

Enjoy the family Christmas greetings by clicking HERE.

Missed Opportunities

One thing about me that has annoyed Mr. Scobie since we first met is my willingness to form an opinion about something before I have ever read or seen it. I made it through college by learning about many books in the following fashion:

1. Develop a theory about a book based on its cover, back cover, first chapter or overheard conversation in the "C" Shop.

Note: I also read whole books, but since the UofC is a Great Books school, many of those books were totally opaque and impossible (for me) to comprehend. Thus my opinion of the book or author is still based on this applied technique.

2. Confidently extol this theory to Mr. Scob (after the first week of college he was the only one who had the patience to endure my "theories").

3. Have "theory" eviscerated by listener, who cites the actual content of said book or movie as "evidence" that I am mistaken.

4. Revise "theory" based on new "evidence" and test on new listener.

5. Repeat 3 - 5.

By the time an exam rolled around, I'd have a firm grasp of the subject matter. The downside, of course, is that while I may now remark that something is "Aristotelean" or "Kantian" or "straight out of Kierkegaard", I'm in the right universe but I can't get more specific than that.

This tendency of mine is a time saver, money saver, and a shield to struggling with anything that might be intellectually or emotionally challenging. For example, in 1996, a bunch of kids wanted to see Crash, the creepy Cronenberg movie, which was basically a snuff movie. I refused to go see it on the basis that the movie would be sensational, violent and upsetting to me. B confronted me with the fact that I knew nothing more than what had been written in the NY Times about it. I said, "I don't need to see a movie to have an opinion about it." I have, to the annoyance of many, stood by that proposition (and likely will forever).

B saw the movie, hated it and has declined to confront me so directly about my cultural . . . prejudices? foresight? since that time.

Why am I going on about this? Because it turns out that instead of seeing this an annoying quirk of my personality, he should have recognized it as a money making opportunity! There is a new book out called How To Talk About Books You Haven't Read, which I DID NOT WRITE, to my consternation. (Here's a review)

Worse, I don't even have an opinion of this book yet.

Supercrack

This is brilliant. The Red Cross has a new ad campaign to raise awareness about earthquake preparedness, because 83% of Bay Area residents have no plan and no supplies in case of The Big One.

Earthquake preparedness nags at me. Its the thing I worry about after I have exhausted the following topics: L's obsession with dinosaurs, the amount of sleep/fresh fruit that Mr. Scobie doesn't get/eat, my work, my grandmother, my student loans (not necessarily in that order).

Anyway, the other day I was going to order some extra food and water because I was having the groceries delivered, and I figured it would save me a lot of hassle. And then I just forgot to do it. But I also thought: well, we have some cans of soup, I don't really need to get food. How dumb is that? We have possibly two cans of soup. We have lots of breakfast bars too. That's basically it. Neither flashlight has good batteries, and the embarrassment of batteries in the fridge aren't the right size for the flashlights. Meeting plan? Not there yet.

So I will move earthquake worrying to higher on the list. What meager supplies have you laid in, or what other self-justification have you indulged in?

UPDATE: In an attempt to make some use of my utter procrastination, I did a bit of on-line shopping for our earthquake preparedness kit. Ten gallons of water, cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli, Ramen, peanut butter, canned fruit cocktail, Jolly Ranchers. If it weren't for the canned peas and condensed milk, I would be psyched for the earthquake, just so I could eat all that gross stuff.

Mix Tape Redux

A few weeks ago, me and the hubs had a conversation about our children's musical education, and whether it has suffered for want of attention. It was less of a discussion than an agreement. So I am soliciting the best songs for kids to learn, and then I will make a CD (0r CDs) for my kids to listen to. If you don't want to post in the comments, send me an email. (Some may recall that I made my first kid mix tape back in the ponderous 15th month of my pregnancy last year.) I am not looking for the best songs ever, just really good songs kids can listen to but which are not necessarily kids' songs. Here's some to start, based solely on what I thought of when I was listening to the first song on the list:

1. I Feel For You, Chaka Khan
2. Tears of A Clown, Smokey Robinson
3. Graceland, Paul Simon
4. Something by Stevie Wonder
5. Shining Star by Earth, Wind and Fire
6. Something by The Band. Maybe Up on Cripple Creek

Okay, I need more.

Update: In reality, You Can Call Me Al is the song a kid would want to hear from the Graceland album, but the fact is, I am sick of that song. I haven't listened to it in years, but because it conjures Chevy Chase in my mind, I can't dig it. I decided not to overthink it and went with my original choice. Graceland the album shows up the problem with the iPod approach; its a great album in its entirety, and even Al is tolerable in its midst.

Update 2: Ahem, Apple/iTunes employee-readers. Among your library's glaring omissions is a distinct lack of Larry Hargrove's "Leave Bill Clinton Alone". Not that its accessible to children, I was just feeling nostalgic for some Arkansas Red.

This Week's Experiment in Child-Rearing

Last Friday night, Mr. S proclaimed that Q-ball would need to learn to sleep through the night in his play pen in our room in preparation for moving in with his big brother. Parents know this problem: Getting Your Kids To Sleep (a) Alone or (b) In The Same Room. It's like trying to decipher the Rambaldi Prophesies or something using only sleep deprivation and the odor of pee-pee as your clues. It's one of the many things about parenting where you find yourself thinking (or rather, I find myself thinking): I am a grown-up with several advanced degrees. I can navigate the New York and London subway systems and have driven in LA. I am smart and pretty and my tongue is pink. Why won't this baby/child (INSERT WHAT I WANT THEM TO DO)?

We've had varying degrees of success over the past several nights, and I want to say this: I am sorry to all of our house guests for making you sleep on a pull-out couch where your head is tilted just slightly below your body at all time.

A friend just sent me this link, and I had really high hopes that it would offer some insight into getting kids to stay asleep all night. But the essence of the millions-dollar study described is, parents whose children don't sleep through the night have health problems, including depression, and you should try to get your kids to sleep through the night. Come ON. Throw me a freakin' bone here, people. Please explain what you are (I am) supposed to do when the children's crying becomes an endless feedback loop, and sleep is impossible for everyone.

I realize that this is probably the number one most mundane blog post ever. Tough tatas. It's hard out here for a pimp. Etc etc. Just send advice.

Ruminations

Here are some things I am chewing over - like this stale gummi bear in my mouth - before I go to bed:

1. Do you think that's just a persona that Pauly Shore created, to get attention? And that actually he's a pretty mellow, calm and normal-speaking guy? Is he related to some other famous person?

2. My Christmas tree ornament collection has accrued in spurts. 1978 was a big year, so was 2002. One sub-collection I have is of ornaments made by my "crafting" aunt; you can tell which years she hit the sauce before she made the ornaments. 1992-94 and 1996 are definite in that category. They are all little hearts painted with violets. Why do I continue to place these on the back of the tree, rather than in the garbage?

3. 2002 was the year we got married. Brook joked today that we should take our coffee maker on an anniversary vacation with us next year. What other wedding gifts could I bring with us? Maybe I could try to fit in my wedding dress and then wear it every day of the vacation, like Ms. Haversham on holiday.

4. I really need to go to bed. One of these days, I promise I will read or do something that warrants a post that is not a stew of discombobulated thoughts. Til then....