Keepin' it Real
My friend Matt managed to upset the entire Jon Bon Jovi fan club earlier this week when he posted on his personal blog a not-so-favorable anecdote about his recent encounter with/photography assignment of Mr. Jon. And as interesting as the dynamics of the ensuing response were, I think you, my many journalistically minded readers, would find Matt's subsequent post about the impact his photojournalism has had in Katrina-hit Houma, La., more interesting and definitely inspiring. Keep up the good work, Matt.
Double-take
Is it really September? Really?
9.17.2006
9.12.2006
WTFat?
Everyone warns you about the Freshman 15, but no one warns you about Desk Job Dozen. I've just about worked mine off, though. Gym memberships are good for something.
Broken Record
So every once in a while I latch onto an album. Current such album: KT Tunstall's Eye To The Telescope. Totally diggin' it.
Just Wondering...
What do you know about bipolar? I'm reading up. Email me privately. Cheers.
Everyone warns you about the Freshman 15, but no one warns you about Desk Job Dozen. I've just about worked mine off, though. Gym memberships are good for something.
Broken Record
So every once in a while I latch onto an album. Current such album: KT Tunstall's Eye To The Telescope. Totally diggin' it.
Just Wondering...
What do you know about bipolar? I'm reading up. Email me privately. Cheers.
9.10.2006
PhDog
Bandit has many nicknames:
Bandito
Bandito Burrito
Mr. B
Buck
Buck-O
Buckeye
Bucket
Buckster
Buck Boy
Buckinator
Puppinator
Pupper
Frog Dog
Chicken Legs
Cute (as in, "Hey, Cute. Why are you chewing up my flip flops yet again?")
Well, now we can add "Graduate" to the litany of nicknames, as a couple of weeks ago, Bandito Burrito graduated from puppy training class. We're proud parents, as you can guess.
More Pictures: Yesterday's Tailgating Extravaganza
What can I say? It was hot.
The Manhattanites: Me, Tim & Eric
Katie, beers
Jana & Nathan
Slowest Grill in the World™
The album is here.
9.05.2006
9.03.2006
I Was Sitting in an Airplane Over Winslow, Ariz*…
SOUTWEST AIRLINES — …Such a fine sight to see. This is the first time I get to travel with Jack Jr., and I figured I needed to maximize the opportunity. So here I sit 12,000** feet up in the air, headed to Denver, composing a blog post in Word.
I hope I never tire of sitting in a window seat. When I traveled with a couple flatmates to Italy for spring break in 2003, one of them scoffed at me when I got excited that my seat on Alitalia was by the window. I’m sure she thought I was some poor provincial Kansas farm girl who was not as privileged as she was, flying home for term breaks while at Mizzou. She was an experienced traveler and the novelty of watching the earth below was, well, beneath her. I felt sorry for her, actually. We were flying over Italy! Who wouldn't want to look out the window? Flight travel amazes me,*** and I love to experience the whole trip. I love the deep rush of the engines as you pick up speed down the runway. I love how quickly you rise and how fast the large buildings become so miniscule. I love how when the plane tilts, you don’t really feel it inside, but when looking out the window the ground seems to pitch and turn. I love that on my last trip, during a flight to Chicago, we flew over the Midwest and I nearly flipped out when I recognized Manhattan below us. I wanted to announce to the cabin, “There’s Tuttle Creek! That must be the new Super Wal*Mart! I see my old neighborhood!” It all fascinates me, and although I plan to travel pretty much forever, I hope sitting in the window seat never gets old and that flying (or driving or traversing by train) never becomes mundane.
*According to our captain, we did just fly over Winslow, how appropriate.
**Total wild-ass guess. I have no clue how high planes fly; and I've always been bad with numbers.
***A couple years ago, we were dropping Ally off at the airport to go back to Kansas, and she made the comment, “I still don’t believe planes can fly. I can’t believe it actually works to get that big thing up so high. I’m just lucky that the pilots believe it.”
SOUTWEST AIRLINES — …Such a fine sight to see. This is the first time I get to travel with Jack Jr., and I figured I needed to maximize the opportunity. So here I sit 12,000** feet up in the air, headed to Denver, composing a blog post in Word.
I hope I never tire of sitting in a window seat. When I traveled with a couple flatmates to Italy for spring break in 2003, one of them scoffed at me when I got excited that my seat on Alitalia was by the window. I’m sure she thought I was some poor provincial Kansas farm girl who was not as privileged as she was, flying home for term breaks while at Mizzou. She was an experienced traveler and the novelty of watching the earth below was, well, beneath her. I felt sorry for her, actually. We were flying over Italy! Who wouldn't want to look out the window? Flight travel amazes me,*** and I love to experience the whole trip. I love the deep rush of the engines as you pick up speed down the runway. I love how quickly you rise and how fast the large buildings become so miniscule. I love how when the plane tilts, you don’t really feel it inside, but when looking out the window the ground seems to pitch and turn. I love that on my last trip, during a flight to Chicago, we flew over the Midwest and I nearly flipped out when I recognized Manhattan below us. I wanted to announce to the cabin, “There’s Tuttle Creek! That must be the new Super Wal*Mart! I see my old neighborhood!” It all fascinates me, and although I plan to travel pretty much forever, I hope sitting in the window seat never gets old and that flying (or driving or traversing by train) never becomes mundane.
*According to our captain, we did just fly over Winslow, how appropriate.
**Total wild-ass guess. I have no clue how high planes fly; and I've always been bad with numbers.
***A couple years ago, we were dropping Ally off at the airport to go back to Kansas, and she made the comment, “I still don’t believe planes can fly. I can’t believe it actually works to get that big thing up so high. I’m just lucky that the pilots believe it.”
8.31.2006
It's That Time of Year Again
The time of year when I pretend to be a hard-core hiker and do some treking up Camelback once a week. Pictures from this morning are here.
*Click on the picture to see a (slightly) larger version. Not the best photo stitching, but it's cool.
8.27.2006
There's nothing "urgent" in the way Urgent Care conducts its business
Or, Why I'm definitely unfit for mamahood
There's no "care" in Urgent Care, for that matter. Lesson learned: Do not handle glass around children. Murphy's Law clearly states that it will break. Don't worry, though, you'll clean it up...with your bare feet. (Note: no child was harmed in this story, only the individual entrusted with said child's safety.) I spent 2 hours at Urgent Care to see the only doc on duty only to have him numb my foot, dig around for a little bit, bandage it up and say, "Well, I'm not sure I got any glass out. You shouldn't submerge it in water for about two days, so I wouldn't swim, take a bath or shower for a while." Excuse me? I'm sure my coworkers would appreciate that. A couple hours later when the feeling returned to my foot I confirmed that indeed, he did not get the shard of glass out of my foot. Wah wah.
Or, Why I'm definitely unfit for mamahood
There's no "care" in Urgent Care, for that matter. Lesson learned: Do not handle glass around children. Murphy's Law clearly states that it will break. Don't worry, though, you'll clean it up...with your bare feet. (Note: no child was harmed in this story, only the individual entrusted with said child's safety.) I spent 2 hours at Urgent Care to see the only doc on duty only to have him numb my foot, dig around for a little bit, bandage it up and say, "Well, I'm not sure I got any glass out. You shouldn't submerge it in water for about two days, so I wouldn't swim, take a bath or shower for a while." Excuse me? I'm sure my coworkers would appreciate that. A couple hours later when the feeling returned to my foot I confirmed that indeed, he did not get the shard of glass out of my foot. Wah wah.
8.25.2006
Alert the Authorities
I’m spending the weekend at yet another home, but this time I’m not just house-sitting; I’m also Rachel-sitting. Our neighbors who are moving to Albuquerque are spending this weekend house-hunting, and they thought things might go a little smoother without a 17-month-old child in tow. So I get to be Mama for the weekend. I mean a true diaper-bag-toting, car-seat-driving, stroller-pushing, wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-replace-the-binky Mama. Talk about birth control. When they asked me to help them out, I’d had plans for Saturday night, so I’ve already hired my first babysitter. (Thanks, Mom.) Tomorrow I plan to rise at 6:30 when Rachel usually wakes up, and we have a grand list of things to do, which includes visiting the baristas at the neighborhood coffee shop, going to the mall to run around the indoor playground (apparently that’s where all the cool moms go) and a swimming play date with Viviane. And that, my fun-loving friends is how I find myself “home” on a Friday night reading The Devil Wears Prada, eating hummus and crackers, and drinking milk from a sippy cup (I couldn’t find the adult glasses). It’s one more way I’m trying to be more like Dooce.
I’m spending the weekend at yet another home, but this time I’m not just house-sitting; I’m also Rachel-sitting. Our neighbors who are moving to Albuquerque are spending this weekend house-hunting, and they thought things might go a little smoother without a 17-month-old child in tow. So I get to be Mama for the weekend. I mean a true diaper-bag-toting, car-seat-driving, stroller-pushing, wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-replace-the-binky Mama. Talk about birth control. When they asked me to help them out, I’d had plans for Saturday night, so I’ve already hired my first babysitter. (Thanks, Mom.) Tomorrow I plan to rise at 6:30 when Rachel usually wakes up, and we have a grand list of things to do, which includes visiting the baristas at the neighborhood coffee shop, going to the mall to run around the indoor playground (apparently that’s where all the cool moms go) and a swimming play date with Viviane. And that, my fun-loving friends is how I find myself “home” on a Friday night reading The Devil Wears Prada, eating hummus and crackers, and drinking milk from a sippy cup (I couldn’t find the adult glasses). It’s one more way I’m trying to be more like Dooce.
8.24.2006
8.21.2006
A (Denver) Post Post
The above photo ran with this article in the Denver Post last week. Note the cute couple in the picture? That would be my Grammie and Grandie. This idyllic main street was the setting of many a summer where I spent time chasing cousins and shucking sweet corn. Yum.
The above photo ran with this article in the Denver Post last week. Note the cute couple in the picture? That would be my Grammie and Grandie. This idyllic main street was the setting of many a summer where I spent time chasing cousins and shucking sweet corn. Yum.
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