You Take it on Faith

As my friend Julie says, "As Tom Petty says, the waiting is the hardest part."

No effing kidding.

My due date is one week away, and I already feel like I'm three weeks overdue. What's it going to feel like next Wednesday when I actually am overdue?

How'm I supposed to carve pumpkins in this frame of mind?

Here's to the one-take video

If I ever got a mass layoff notice from a large corporation, I'd probably spend my last day pilfering office supplies. But the AOL France office had a decidedly more web-friendly idea. (The password is "aollover")


L'amour a la francaise from pyc on Vimeo.

You know I love the one-take video.

Babies, Babies Everywhere

No, not here. But a couple of old high school pals have the cutest little 10 day old boy you ever did see. And today I got to hold him and smell his head. Mmmmmm, baby head. It's like crack.

So between them, my brother and sister in law, and Max's old boss from Dublin, that's 3 in the past few weeks. My cousin is due shortly, and hopefully it'll be my turn soon. My turn for baby head crack.

In da House

I'm loving the Fall TV bonanza. Some of the new shows are just really, really enjoyable (Pushing Daisies, Life), and the return of last season's shows is like seeing old friends again (House--Hugh Laurie, swoon--The Office). And since pretty much all I can do is sit, reclining, on the couch and ask Max to bring me ice cream, massive quantities of Tivo are right up my alley.

And nothing goes better with Tivo than a dog head in your lap. Except two heads. And a kitty.

Can has blog?

So I added the I Can Has Cheezburger link to my sidebar last week. I didn't say anything about it because I really can't explain what it is or why I find it so damn hilarious. I'm not sure what an LOLCat is; I mean, I know what a cat is and I know that LOL is internet speak for Laughing Out Loud, so I have the feeling that and LOLCat is a cat that makes one laugh out loud. Duh. But it's more that that. Why does this website and its submission community insist that cats speak with such weirded out accents and strange grammar? And what's the deal with walruses and buckets? And why cheeseburgers? My cats prefer poultry.

Like I said, I don't really get it, but I sure as hell can't get enough. I sit here and LOL at those cats all day long. And their silly dialect. I even found myself telling Milhouse yesterday, "No can has turkey sandwich, iz for me, k thx" as he expertly tried to camouflage himself as part of the table in order to snatch meat out of my lunch.

I don't know what to say. I'm hooked.

Empenadas are the New Cupcakes

Definitely No Tennis

Via Found.

Going Down?

If you've been wondering why I haven't been blogging this week, it's because I want to spare you the monotony of my thoughts. They pretty much consist of "Oof, I'm uncomfortable" and "I hope the baby comes soon because I'm so damn uncomfortable." Also the sleeplessness makes me cranky, so there are usually lots of swear words in there.

I know it's not quite time yet, but it's definitely almost time. The doctor said I most likely wouldn't go past my Halloween due date (as of last Friday, I was 1 cm dilated...TMI?). But I also know that the baby has to drop before he can be born, and I don't think that's happened yet. Not that I would know. But people keep telling me, oh you'll know when it happens.

No, I won't. Other than a few really obvious signs (Huge. Uncomfortable. Peeing every 30 seconds. The medium sized alien trying to bust his way out of my gut.), I only know I'm pregnant because the doctor keeps telling me I'm pregnant. I'm not one of those in-touch-with-my-body, lunar cycle, fasting-for-fun type of women. My body and I don't communicate like that, never have. I mean, I know some of things my body tells me. Like, "I told you not to eat that Taco Bell last night, and now you're gonna pay." But I'm hoping body dearest speaks loudly and clearly when it's time to have this baby. Not that I won't know it when I go into labor, but I'd like some clear direction and maybe a little synchronicity between my body and my mind.

Like it always does

Not the best video ever, but the song is my song today. Because I miss Mir so damn much.



That night lives in infamy. On Mir's car.

Sci-Fi Thursday

We just signed up for this.

So, what if, like, 20-25 years from now, there is a small army of Samsons being trained in Morocco to assassinate foreign dictators? Or maybe there'll be a Samson-cyborg hybrid army, created for covert black ops and other scary military lingo projects? Or maybe I'll be on vacation in Vancouver and a barista at Starbucks who bears an uncanny resemblance to my first born son will say to me, "Maybe you'd like a bear claw with that latte, eh?"

The possibilities are endless. And freaky.

Two against one

Ozzy got tag teamed by two pit bulls at the dog park this morning. He's fine, they're fine, everyone's fine. Now, I'm always the first to admit fault on his behalf when Ozzy instigates some form of K9 skirmish, so please feel the gravity of my statement when I say he was blindsided and attacked by these two other dogs for no apparent reason (there's always a reason in dog land, true, but Ozzy wasn't posturing, protecting Nanna, protecting me, or asserting dominance in any way--he was just minding his own doggie business, sniffing the ground and whatnot.). He never had a chance--they had him on his back before I could say boo and were biting him on the neck, torso, head--it was awful. Luckily, it wasn't the kind of biting that pit bulls are famous for, nor was it even the kind of biting that draws blood. It was more the snarling and snapping kind of biting, the kind that made me run up to the mess and stop just short of sticking my arms in and trying to pull him out. Instead, I poked at all three dogs with my flinger, shouted lots of things like "Hey!" and "Don't do that!" and "Not good!"

The owner of the other two dogs came and pulled them off, and Ozzy stood up looking utterly dazed and confused, but unhurt. Nanna ran up to him and sniffed him all over, and I ran up to him and did the human equivalent of sniffing him all over: petting him and crying, running my hands through his dusty, dirty, slobbery fur, looking for gashes and puncture wounds. Like I said, he's fine.

At least, he was fine, until he learned that those pit bulls were female pit bulls, and he had just gotten his ass kicked by a couple of girls.

Dream a little dream

Last night I dreamed that we got our baby car seats installed at Disneyland. Sigh. I'll be here for the next few hours if anyone needs me.

Insert theme music from 'Jaws' here

It's almost here, despite those crap-ass jerseys.

Borrowed Post and My Growing Family

Well, stolen really.



Very funny, Clamhead.

Tonight: OUR LAST FREAKING PRENATAL CLASS, thank freaking god. I can't handle any more information or superlatives ("This is the most important child care tip you will ever learn." "Swaddling is the best way to calm a crying baby." "At least half an hour of skin-to-skin contact immediately after delivery is the only thing that will stop your baby from growing up to be the next Adolph Hitler.") Tonight's class is Breastfeeding Basics. Predictably, Max and I are more excited about the Dim Sum place next door to the education center than we are about the class itself. Mmmmmm, cha siu bao...

Important announcement! Trick has a little person to nibble on! Welcome to the family, my very first niece!

Updates on all fronts

Animals:

Nanna got her stitches removed, and the incision promptly filled up will fluid, making a jiggly tennis-ball sized lump of goo. The vet assured me today that this is OK, drained it, and told me to massage the incision site twice daily to avoid fluid deposits. At which point, I swear to god, Nanna looked up at me and smiled.

Miru gets to stay unmedicated for another 6 months, at which point he is gets another cardiogram ("cardiogram" always makes me think of "candygram" which always makes me think of the land shark routine from SNL. And now it also makes me think of this.) to check his rate of deterioration. Fine by me.

Milhouse gets louder and friendlier every day. Has taken to sleeping in laundry baskets full of freshly washed baby clothes.

Ozzy continues to fart frequently. Sigh. Has mastered the art of hogging a California King sized bed. Sigh.

Married life:

Just over one month old. It's great! Both the Social Security office and the DMV were very helpful when I changed my name, and customer service representatives keep congratulating me when I call them to order new cards, checks, what have you.

Samson:

Terrific! We've definitely moved into that super uncomfortable phase of pregnancy where sleep is hard to come by and food must be consumed in small quantities because there's no room in my body for anything but a baby, let alone a full order of garlic mashed potatoes form Black Angus. We won't go into how little room there is for my bladder or it's contents. I did have to make a little trip to the emergency room Friday night when I sliced the bejesus out of my thumb while chopping onions. The thumb's fine, but the tetanus shot they gave me still kills. The ER doctor promised me that the tetanus shot wouldn't cause Samson to be born with horns or wings (although how cool would that be?), and I came to a concrete decision regarding the epidural. I don't like pain at all. I've been whiny and cranky and mopey for the last three days, and I swear my arm is going to fall off or explode at any second. Not to mention my ginsued thumb. Ow.

So all in all, things are good if not a little whiny. Coming soon: something hopefully a little more interesting than this kind of stuff.

Flight of the Conchords: the Bowie Episode

The jury's still way out on Flight of the Conchords. I liked the first couple of episodes OK, but lost interest pretty quickly, especially with the whole moving back the US thing. I had other things on my mind besides TV (shocking!). But I happened to catch the episode where one of the characters, Bret (half of the New Zealand folk duo on whose fictional lives the show is based), is having body image issues, and gets visited by David Bowie in his dreams who gives him deliciously cryptic advice. Bowie is expertly played by the actor who plays Jermaine, the other half of the duo. Behold:



Deliciously freaky, man.

I know somethin' about birthin' some babies

And folks, let me tell you, it ain't pretty.

After nine hours of intensive childbirth preparation classes last weekend, Max and I are officially childbirth experts. That have never given birth. And we expertly know one thing: it looks hard and painful, and it will take many hours. OK, that's three things.

Seriously though, this class left me scared to deliver, which I never was before. It left me unsure of my decision to demand multiple and frequent epidurals, and it left me excited about all of the supposed foot and back massages I'll be getting.

If there are any moms or dads out there reading this post, I'd love you to weigh in. Did you (or your lady) deliver with our without pain meds? What are your experiences? Would you/did you do it the same way the second or third time? If you had an epidural, were you able to move afterwards? Was it hard to know when to push?

I do know that childbirth is natural, that women have been doing it for a very long time, and that in about 6 weeks I'll be doing it whether I want to or not. I know that everything will be just fine, and that at the end of it all, little Samson will be there all goopy and alien-like, and it will be the happiest day of my life. Duh. So I'm not concerned per se, and I'm not scared as much as I am anxious about the exact level of pain we're talking about here. I can handle anything, for I am strong like bull. I also cry when Max has to fix an ingrown toenail on my dainty little foot. So clearly, you can see my dilemma.

I'm also not too terribly concerned with preserving the "natural" experience of childbirth, or making the process seem more "medical." I will go into labor, Samson will be born, the three of us will bond, then he will start pooping and demanding an allowance. Whether I am one with the Earth Mother during this process or I have an IV sticking out of my back is of no consequence to me. Although, considering how much fun I like to make of hippies and new-age types, I'm less inclined to look down on anything that takes away from the whole birthing-from-within concept. It's OK, I'm allowed to make fun of hippies. I used to be one.

There's also no question about whether or not I can go through a non-medicated labor and birth. of course I can. The question is, do I want to?

My poor OB. My normally 7-minute long check up is going to take 45 minutes this week.

Cooking with The Ramones

As some of you know, I recently left my job at The Planning Shop. This way, I could focus on getting the wedding planned and done, and now I can prepare for Samson's immanent arrival. Then, when he gets here, I can spend my days blissfully watching my perfect sleeping baby who never cries. Or, more realistically, I can spend my days washing loads of baby laundry and scrubbing baby poop out of Ozzy's fur.

Until then, I've been finding ways to keep myself busy while Max is at work. Not imaginative ways, but in ways that are perfect for me: I've doing the things that I've meant to do for the last 3 or 4 years and never found time to do. This mostly consists of getting organized in general and completing artsy craftsy projects in particular. Vacation shadow boxes, weaving and spinning projects, massive iPod playlist creations, photo organizing, and the like.

And cooking! I've cooked something ridiculous like 5 dinners in the last 2 weeks. And they mostly didn't suck. I've been baking too, and I've got a new favorite ingredient: music. I've been on a down-swing in my musical ebb and flowiness for the past few years, and it seems to have finally dissipated. For the first time in a long time, I've been choosing music over TV for alone in the house company. Which means that I got to listen to kick ass Ramones songs while chopping walnuts for the apple honey cake I made for tonight's Rosh Hashanah dinner. It also means I've been watching a lot less TV lately. Of course, Max and I still have our shows that we watch together (have you seen Showtime's new series, Californication? That David Duchovny is something else.), and I've never been one to turn down a mid-day Law & Order marathon, but for the most part the TV stays off during the day.

Now, if I can ever get my hands on a Wii, that could all change.

First Crush

I just love this video.



Nanna is healing nicely; stitches come out next Tuesday. Still waiting on Miru's test results. Milhouse tried to eat my granola this morning. Ozzy still smells questionable. Samson is preparing for the world soccer championship, or maybe some kind of martial arts contest. Either way, he's sure to being home the gold.

In other words, not much is happening around here lately, which is good. I'm getting a little more tired every day, and I'm training for the napolympics. I'm hoping to get sponsored by Sealy or Mattress Discounters.

Shower Me

Rosa and my mom's friend Maureen threw me an awesome baby shower over the weekend. It was terrific--games, food, gifts--and cake! My mom made a wonderful cake that actually had ARGYLE on it. How cool is that? 400 cool, of course. Maybe even 450.

It was a great mix of people and a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Then I got to spend the next 2 days washing tiny baby outfits in Dreft and putting together baby toys and stuff. I think the next 6 1/2 weeks are going to be pretty cool--I'm in full on nesting mode now. I even tried to fold the cat. It didn't work.

Lumpdate

Nanna is out of surgery and slowly recovering. Miru's heart may or may not be safe for another year. Ozzy most likely has nothing more than a lump on his tummy. Oh, and gingivitis.

We won't know 100% for sure whether or not the cancer in Nanna's lump has spread beyond the bits reoved in her surgery until next week, but the doctor felt pretty confident that she got everything. Even then, there's nothing that says the same cancerous cells won't show up in some other tumors a few months down the road. But for now, she's lying on the living room floor, more zonked out than I've ever seen her before, with another one of those frankendog looking row of stitches running up from her belly to her side. The doc says that this recover will take longer than her previous ones because they had to take a good chunk of muscle out off of her rib (again), plus she's a bit older this time around (11 years old at the end of this month!). Poor, poor dear.

Miru's heart murmur is a clue that he will eventually develop this cat condition that has a crappy symptom: sudden death. But because it was caught before his heart exploded, we can monitor it as time goes by and get him on medication before there's any manifestation of physical symptoms (like suddenly dropping dead). The question is just when he goes on the medication, and the today's cardiogram should give us the answer to that question by next week. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if the side effects of said medication are hair loss, incontinence and kitty dementia. He's fine tonight, except for the fact that he's being tortured by his cruel captors who keep him locked in a townhouse when by all rights he should be roaming the streets of Foster City till the wee hours.

Ozzy basically got jealous of all of the attention Nanna was getting regarding her lump, so he said "Look, look! I gots a lump too! Can I have some turkey now?" If any dog could will himself to have a small, non-cancerous, turkey-getting lump, it's the Oz. But We're glad he's OK (comparatively).

Human health: Samson and I had our 32 week check-up today (what, only the pets get to go to the doctor today?), and we are practically perfect in every way. Seriously. I love this doctor because he says things like that. Our fundus is the right hight (31 centimeters), our blood pressure is just right (some bigger number over some other smaller number), and our weight is just right (yeah, as if I'm going to post that here). Hearts beat as they should, movement is present and regular, everything is normal and A-OK. I love it! Now if only they doctor could do something about this heat wave so I could get some sleep...

Trickle pictures

Photos from the wedding are trickling in, like this one from Max's Aunt and Uncle. It's great to see the wedding from all these different perspectives. I'm planning on uploading one more album to Picasa Web, probably a few weeks from now once I've gotten more pictures from people. Stay tuned!

Another Lump for Nanna

And this one's another cancerous tumor. But thanks to constant belly rubs and our daily post-breakfast love fest, I found it really early and the vet thinks it will be no problem to remove the whole thing and get good margins on Thursday. The same day Miru goes in for his echo-cardio-thingy to check the status of his heart murmur. We'll probably have to go in even earlier in the week because we found another lump last night, this one on Ozzy's belly. His first lump. My first 3-animal medical crisis week. Plus, when Miru got out last week, he brought home some fleas. Yay.

But not all news is sick animal news. Some of it is expecting friend news! LDB up in Portland is growing a little friend in her belly for Samson to play with! How cool is that! Four hundred cool.

The portrait shots from the wedding are up on Picasa Web. There are still some digital photos and a few quick cams to handle, but I think we're mostly set on picture posting.

The Wedding Album: Part 1

Doesn't that make it sound like Max and I are in a band and we've recorded an album? I tell you, if we ever do form a band, we're ready. We've got a list of dozens of great band and album names. Band name case in point: Fat Like Esther Lerner. And it's got the perfect tiny story behind it so we'll have something funny to say to Letterman in the 7.5 seconds available for chatting after we play on the show. Who cares if we don't really know any instruments?

The first batch of wedding photos are up on Picasa Web. They're mostly from the disposable cameras that we handed out to everyone for use during the weekend, plus there are a few form some of the family's digitals. So I can't really claim responsibility for any of them--and there are some truly stellar shots up there. I may be organized, but I'm not that organized, so they're not really in any particular order. But they're good to the last drop.

Happiness is Teal Blue Cream Cheese Frosting

It's a well known fact that I can't cook. At least, it's well known to the people who have listened to me complain about how I can't cook. Can't explain why, and it's not like I haven't tried to learn and people haven't tried to teach me. Although I think it has something to do with patience, timing, and trust. Every so often, I'll whip out a totally edible dish. And I'm just fine at chopping vegetables and preparing ingredients so that Max can cook something totally tasty--Max, by the way, never uses recipes or measuring spoons. He actually knows how to season to taste. I'm impressed every time.

But I can bake. Nothing super fancy, but I can make cakes and cookies and frostings and tasty treats like peach tartine. I can make pies and rugaleh. I can also make the dessert of the hour, cupcakes. If desserts have personalities, cupcakes are the San Francisco hipster who live in the Mission or Hayes Valley and have all of the cutest bags and shoes. Oddly, I don't hate them for that. Cupcakes were deserving of my adoration long before I painfully discovered the concept of "cool," and I will be baking and eating cupcakes long after pirates go out of fashion and cupcake shops stop popping up all over Manhattan.

The cupcakes I made on Sunday were moist and yellow, and topped with pale teal blue cream cheese frosting. They were not diet friendly or low-anything, and they were delicious. I think I'll go have one right now.

My boyfriend and I went to Gualala and all I got was this new last name

I'm still too overwhelmed to give a really good report of the wedding. We're back in Foster City and getting to see a lot of our out-of-town friends and family one last time before they return to their homes. And then there's all of the Ikea furniture that poor Max has to build. Poor, poor Max.

I'm expecting there to be 1,000 + pictures when all is said and done, so it will be a while before I get an album up on Picasa Web. I know, tortuous. I thought I'd post a few of the real good ones to tide you all over, but it's too hard to choose. But here's a photo of one of the best parts of the weekend:



Mmmmmmm, she smells like taffy.

I'm still reeling from the whole thing. The weather was amazing, and it was a really terrific group of near and dear ones. Small enough to still be intimate, but big enough to be undoubtedly festive. We really got to use the whole 3 days to catch up and spend quality time with both friends and family. And even though we pretty much broke just about every rule the Sea Ranch has, it was a virtually stress free weekend and wedding. Which still totally amazes me.

The dogs were SO WELL BEHAVED, thanks in no small part to LDB and Heffe who spent a lot of time tiring them out with hikes and stick fetching in the ocean while Max and I meeted and greeted and went on our seemingly endless rounds. It was also a grand opportunity for everyone to meet Samson, by way of touching my belly and making baby talk to it (I'm not complaining--it was freaking awesome.). Samson liked it too, as evidenced by his kicking and movement pattern becoming totally ramped up over the weekend.

The ceremony itself went off utterly hitchless, and my hair looked so damn good thanks to MEH and her magic hands. I won't lie to you; tears were shed, although no vows were flubbed. And Ozzy decided that he would do his patented back-scratch-rolling maneuver in a nice patch of sunny grass, center stage of the chuppah, about half way through the ceremony. Which was, of course, totally freaking adorable.

Then there was the food. And the parties. And the BBQ. And the volleyball. And the beachy sunsets. This will definitely take a few installments.

dks

I'm back from the wedding, complete with a new last name! How exciting. I won't say much in this post, as I am totally and utterly exhausted, but I will say that it was THE PERFECT WEEKEND and everything went wonderfully. It was the best wedding ever, and we have the best friends and families and dogs ever. Pictures and musings shortly. Big ups to my ridiculously helpful friends from Portland, San Antonio, San Carlos, Brooklyn, Minneapolis, and beyond.

Take my sanity, please

Wow, it's really almost time for the wedding. Family and friends started arriving from out of town today, and the chaos has begun. It won't be in full swing until the middle of next week, and by then, I do believe I will have gone bananas. Once the actual celebration starts on Friday, I'll be nothing but smiles--surrounded by friends and family with no prep left to do. But this week it's kind of overwhelming, getting the finishing touches on seating arrangements, flowers, and various bits and bobs. Even for such a small wedding, there are so many little details! And I suppose we didn't have to move into a new place during the same week. Or buy a new car. Or a new bed.

It's been challenging, but it's totally worth it. I am SO EXCITED for this wedding, and I love love love our new place. The transition from Dublin to Foster City has actually gone really smoothly. We kind of treated it like how one treats swimming in Fall Creek in Oregon: close your eyes, hold your breath, and jump in. Then pray as hard as you can that your lungs don't seize up from the freezing cold water. If you just stick your toe in before you jump, you'll never succeed. It's all or nothing, and this week has been an all week.

Other news: my good buddy Tiny Trousers appears to be on the mend! We here at Extra Super Fantastic wish her and her mom all the best.

Life in HD

So here I am, sitting in my new home, blogging from my new laptop, watching our new HDTV, 2 clean dogs curled up next to me. You could say I had a real good weekend. The new place is awesome; it's really coming together nicely. We had 2 sets of extremely helpful parents on hand, and everyone was just great. I've never moved in and unpacked so quickly before, including our marathon trip to Ikea and Best Buy on Sunday morning. and not to mention the fact that I can't actually lift anything! It may not be San Francisco, but it feels really good.

Let's just not discuss the fact that it's now less than 2 weeks until the wedding. Gulp.

Off to the dog park now--these hounds deserve a reward for their good behavior.

New digs

No more apartments for us. Oh, no, we're moving on up. To a townhouse. Mmmm, fancy. We found a nice place in a nice neighborhood that is, sadly, not in San Francisco. We'll be in the proper burbs, where we can afford a yard and a garage and more toilets than you can shake a stick at. Max's commute will be cut in half which will give more time to run around fetching me things like McDonald's french fries and obscure imported root beer. Lucky, lucky, Max.

Expect hilarious anecdotes of moving and going through our storage unit in the near future. and maybe some pictures of the new place. To hold you over for now, here are some pictures of the time a few weeks ago when I went to the Kwik-E Mart in Mountain View with Rosa and Dave.

Coming up for air

Mmmmmmm, a conglomoration of life changing events and it's not even August yet. Weddings. Babies. Returning to the US. A dog with an inferiority complex. Finding a home. New job. Old job. Let me say again that I AM NOT COMPLAINING, I am simply making excuses for my lack of blogging. This is so much fun, and I love being home and seeing my family and the weather--holy crap this weather. Long live global warming. Just rest assured that my usually more-frequent-than-this blogging schedule has been usurped by dresses, veils, flowers, bassinets, cake, and a crazy mixed up shepherd. And occasionl cat-naps in the sun.

Medium sized update

So I went up to the Sea Ranch for 3 days last week to get my bearings in regards to the wedding. The wedding that's in exactly one month. Ahem.

The verdict: boy did we pick the right place to start the rest of our lives together. Thanks to mom and dad's scouting skills and their intrepid ability to test fancy restaurants for us in our absence, the food will match the beauty and the intensity that is the Northern California coast and redwoods. And that's really what a wedding is all about, right?

Once again, I'm torn by how happy we are to have a nice, simple, intimate (aka "small") ceremony, one that's more or less devoid of stress and time-intensive decisions about tablecloths and seating arrangements, and my desire to share this wonderful place and this wonderful event with all of my nearest and dearest. Thankfully, our friends and family understand, and they support our decision. And that makes me feel less torn.

On to the story of Ozzylocks and the Three Deer. Well, there's no story really. There were these three deer grazing outside our house, and Ozzy watched them and made deeply primal growly noises. As if, Oz. They have horns, buddy. Horns.



Nanna, of course, had more important things to worry about. Like all of these sticks! Who left all of these sticks lying around here?? How am I supposed to fetch ALL OF THESE STICKS???



Other business: Max will be home in 2 short weeks! The movers will come to pack up the rest our belongings in Dublin in a week or so, then I get my best friend back, my bringer of milkshakes and not-so-secret Degrassi TNG watching pal. Life is good.

Other other business: the AIDS Walk went really, really well last Sunday. Extra super fantastic THANK YOUs to everyone who supported me by donating. I met my fundraising goal, and was able to take part in something really special and helpful to my community. I walked the whole 10K with team captain Laura and her dad, not to mention my four-legged cohorts. Oz and Nanna did splendidly, and were incredible tuckered out by the end of the weekend--three days chasing sticks in the ocean, multiple trips to the dog park, and one heck of a long walk through a fog-filled Golden Gate Park. I think they've finally forgiven me for leaving them for a year.

Mini Update

I am still here--busy with work, and a fabulous pre-wedding fact-gathering mission to the Sea Ranch. More about this later, and pictures of Ozzy's not-so-close encounter with a trio of deer.

One other thing: big hugs and warm thoughts for my good friend Tiny Trousers (and her ever loving mom). Who knew an Australian shepherd mix (or whatever the lying sack of crap at the pet store said you were), who is almost certainly part mountain goat, could get herself stranded on the dusty crags of my heart and mind for so long? Well, I guess I knew.

Back in California

It's good to be home. The dogs are finally starting to remember that I'm the pack leader, which means I get followed around a bit more, and when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee (like, 6 times) I can hear Nanna snoring away on her pile of dog beds. It's always hard the first few days when I come home; the cats hardly come near me and the dogs sleep down the hall with their "real parents." But a few days of cookies and trips to the dog park bring back the natural order of things pretty quickly.

We're heading to the Sea Ranch tomorrow to finalize some wedding details--you know, silly stuff like food, alcohol, and ceremony locations. Even though we're having the smallest wedding known to man, there's still planning to be done and food to be tasted. I got my 30 weeks pregnant wedding dress recently, and I absolutely love it. When I tried it on I felt like a knocked up Cinderella. It's very chiffon-y and flow-y and white--all the things a wedding gown should be, but with a little extra room in the right places. Plus the dress weighs less than 2 pounds--Samson and I will be very comfortable on the big day.

Chances are that I won't be blogging quite so much over the next few weeks--it's just a hunch but we'll see.

The cat came back

Just not the very next day. Six days later, actually. And the word on the street is that he's in one piece, and rather famished. This wasn't the first time Miru ran away. Wasn't the 2nd time either. Or the 3rd. But he's back, safe and sound, and that's what matters.

I'm enjoying my last few days in Dublin, and by "enjoying" I mean packing, organizing, planning, and list-making. Good times! Of course I'll miss Max, but really, this will be the shortest length of time we've ever lived apart from each other. And I'll get to replace one Max with 2 dogs and 2 cats (thankfully).

We had our 23 week OB appointment and scan yesterday. Samson got a great report from the midwife: "Size appropriate for gestational age. No evidence of any structural abnormality." Those are the two best sentence fragments I've ever read in my life. Except for maybe "Salt water taffy half off," and "Kittens free to good home." There's nothing like a box of kittens.

Breathe through it

I went to prenatal yoga today. No crying this time--not from me, anyway. The classroom is on the deliveries floor, and there was this weird, high pitched moaning noise throughout the class today--it was hardly noticeable. The midwife who runs the class spent a lot of time today telling us about natural birth (yeah, right) and how yoga will help us learn to breathe through the discomfort--not pain, mind you, discomfort. The entire class became skeptical because by the end of class--you know, the part with the relaxation, feel your body filling up with warming light, blah blah blah--the high pitched moaning next door had become full on screaming. Pain-filled screaming. Was she breathing through the discomfort? It was pretty comical though, like something out of Will and Grace or Seinfeld. Who knew yoga needed a laugh track?

The Varro's visit to Ireland has been immortalized by the Lomo, which happily decided to function last week. Pics are on Picasa Web. No embedded slideshow, I decided I didn't like that feature all that much. Here's a good one though:



I will miss our little Irish roadtrips. Ireland is a lot like the Sea Ranch, though, so there's a number of Irish-ish road trips coming up soon. But with dogs!

Summer Showers

I passed a shoe store today with a window display advertising "hip festival fashion"--wellies. Back in good 'ol California, festival-wear (at least in my day) consisted of tank tops and flip flops. Or, being the San Francisco Bay Area, hooded sweatshirts and sneakers. But rarely did one need to wear full on rain gear to Lollapalooza or Coachella. Maybe for the Bridge School Benefit in late October, but never to a summer festival. Here in soggy Ireland, summer music festivals mean ponchos, rain boots, and wet, muddy camping. There have been a few weeks here and there, last summer when I first got here and earlier this spring where the weather here was heavenly--warm and clear with air that smells like fresh cut grass and mild humidity. Couple that with the super long days (sun now sets at 11 pm!) and you've got the potential for an amazing place to live.

Now ask me about how I got caught in a rain shower on my way home from lunch today. Not the warm East Coast-y kind, but the cold blowing-in-off-the-Irish-Sea kind. My pants and sweater are still hanging on the bedroom door, drying out.

The Varros Come to Ireland

They came. They saw. They drank Guinness. We had a wonderful week with our New York friends, the Varros. The weather didn't really cooperate, but that didn't stop us from doing all of the fun Dublin stuff. We also took a 3 day road trip to Galway and Bunratty Castle and to County Kerry--Sarah's ancestral home (she was a Sullivan until last October). We saw sheep and cows and goats (oh my!) and enjoyed our fair share of Irish goodies and full-car sing-a-longs. Pictures!



That, my friends, is Picasa's fancy new slideshow embedding feature. Pretty cool! I like to embed things within other things. Like embedding pigs into blankets, or jalepenos into poppers. Mmmm, snacks filled with other snacks.

Baby update: we have have movement! Unless it's some kind of weird prolonged bout of gas, I've been feeling Max Jr. squirm around for 2 weeks now. It feels a lot like riding a roller coaster, specifically the part where you go down a big drop and your stomach follows you down a little bit slower than the rest of your insides. But just slightly and only for a second. It's really quite amazing. Nothing like the hiccups and acrobatics that I'm sure will start in the months to come, but enough to bring a smile to my face when I'm just sitting there minding my own business and he reminds me that I'm not alone.

Other than that, it's time to pack it all in here in Dublin. Moving (part one) is less than 2 weeks away, and there's much to do. So I'd better get doing.

I don't know whether I can handle this weather

Stupid rain. Stupid, stupid rain. It's been raining all week, anywhere from hot and muggy rain a la the East Coast to cold pelting rain that makes me frown. Our good friends the Varros are coming to Dublin on Saturday to visit for a week, and there's a lot of rain in the forecast. I've only got 3 1/2 weeks left to complain about the weather, so I guess I'd better get busy.

I wanted to post a song that sort of fit this weather-induced mood I'm in, but I couldn't find an online version (to purchase or otherwise, including iTunes) of the one I had mind. So here's a link to a place where you can listen to it. It's from a Channel 4 Radio ad that plays on our UK TV channels regularly, and it makes feel kind of gloomy-happy.

And here's another song that kind of works for my mood today, too.

Halfway there!

Today marks the halfway point in Baby Samson's stay in the Hotel My Belly. 20 weeks. Unbelievable. It really illustrates how time flies. I mean, really.

Last night we had dinner with 2 really nice American and American-Scottish couples. Between the 2 of them, they had a 2 week old, a one year old, a two year old, and a three year old. Max and I sat there, smiling, as babies slept and pooped and ate, and toddlers ran around giggling and being kids, and everything less than 3 feet high was pulled, grabbed, thrown, chewed on, hugged hidden, and eventually handed to Max for evaluation (the kids, they LOVE Max. Big time.). It was kind of like some sort of glimpse into the near and near-distant future for us. And it was only a little scary. Mostly it was 4 adorable children, smiling and learning and playing, and 4 happily exhausted parents, exchanging knowing smiles as I kept thinking to myself, "Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow. Wooooooooow. Wow."

I'm too sexy for just about everything

This commercial has been on here for over a month, so I have no idea why I only thought about posting it today.



Round two of the Turkey pics are up. Underwater cameras, action sampler, fish eye, all the plastic and artsy cameras.

Learning how to breath again

I had my first prenatal yoga class at lunch today. I've done yoga a handful of times throughout my life; there was the kundalini yoga class when I was 15 at the rec center. Verdict: it made me fall asleep, and was basically a vehicle for the instructor to sell his goofy relaxation tapes. More recently, one of my coworkers got me to join her for a drop-in class a couple of times last year. Verdict: ouch! Yoga hurts my arms!

This class is all about the breathing and various pelvic stretching. At 19 weeks, I am the least pregnant in the group; most of the women are 30 weeks and up, a few are 26-28 weeks. I was the only one who didn't really need the pile of pillows that were placed at the head of each yoga mat, not that I didn't appreciate them. I was also the only one who could lie on my back for the relaxation portion at the very end of the class. That's when the weirdest thing happened.

The midwife leading the class instructed us to breath in, thinking of all of the good and loving things in our lives. No problem--I've got lots of good and loving. Then she told us to breathe out, pushing out all of the stress, all of the tension, the negativity, the disappointment...and I lost it. I started to cry. I wasn't bawling, in fact I don't think anyone noticed, but I couldn't stop the tears from coming, streaming down the sides of my face into my ears. I'm not one to bottle things up. I cry pretty regularly, I tell my loved ones when I'm bummed out or pissed off, I've always considered myself pretty much fully in touch with my feelings. So why was I so surprised at this outburst? Why did I have this extreme reaction to breathing out the sadness? It was really weird, and caught me totally off guard. I wonder what there is in my life right now, today, that I'm not dealing with?

Turkish Delight

We had a wonderful week in Turkey, a great last hurrah as my days of living in Europe, and flying at all, come to an end. What? What's that you say? You want to see pictures? Well, I'll have to see what I can do about that. Let's start with 42 of the 143 pictures from the digital camera, and I'll follow up later this week with the 6 rolls of film from various Lomo, action samplers, and underwater cameras. Yikes!

Highlights:

Seeing our friends from Israel. Since none of them will be able to make it out to SF for the wedding in August, we invited everyone to join us in Bodrum for a pre-wedding celebration. Remember, these are the same people who engineered and produced the famous zombie engagement of 2005, so it was no surprise when they surprised us with a mock wedding on Friday night, complete with a rabbi, a priest, and Elvis. It was terrific--and good practice for the real thing! Only 74 days!



Boat trip on a Turkish Yacht. We spent all day Saturday cruising around the Aegean Sea, snorkeling, and soaking up the sun. It was my first time snorkeling and I had such a blast. The water wasn't the most tropical, most of the fish were pretty much sand and water colored with a few blue or orange guys swimming around. But between the snorkel mask and my contact lenses, I think it was the first time I've ever actually seen underwater. It's a whole new world, and I want to live in that world all the time. And then there was the ice cream boat at one of the snorkeling stops. Genius!



Turkey is also the land of meat on a stick. I've eaten enough kebabs in the last week to last 2 lifetimes. And the cherries! The had these really big, juicy cherries at our local fruit and veg market, plus every restaurant and mini market and grocery store has cherry juice--the ice cream vendors on the beach promenade even have cherry ice cream! I got my fill of my favorite fruit flavor in all of it's various forms. Delicious.

Then there was the Hamam (Turkish Bath). What a weirdly fun experience! We skipped the sauna portion of the bath on account of baby Samson, but the soap massage was out of this world and the oil massage was to die for. The whole thing was made even more hilarious by the super friendly Turkish guy in a skirt and a Beckham jersey who dried us off after the soap massage. What a surreal time that was.

It was hard to come back to Dublin, especially considering that the weather was crap yesterday, but it's kind of nice to be back. I'm in the home stretch now, only one more month until I go home. I'm starting to get bigger, and next week marks the half way point in my pregnancy, so it will be great to get back to the Bay Area and be able to start the next chapter of my life. As much fun as I've had living in Europe the past year, I'm ready to be somewhere that we can stay for a few years, to have the dogs and cats back in my life, to go back to the office, all that stuff. Not that the next year will bring anything resembling peace and quiet, I realize that. But it's going to be such a great thing to start our new family, and I can hardly wait.

Gobble Gobble

Well, after another in a medium-sized string of disappointing manicure/pedicures (the Irish mani/pedi is a crap experience), I'm ready for our trip to Turkey. A whole week of tankinis, flip flops, shorts and swim fins! Not to mention ancient culture, like Ephesus, and super vacation-y boat trips.

You just know the pictures will be plentiful.

Is this sofa getting smaller or is it just me?

I'm officially starting to feel large. Thick in the middle. When I lean against the kitchen counter in order to reach the handle that opens and closes the window, my belly goes "gooouch" on the inside. There's definitely something living in there, and he's getting bigger by the day. I'm really curious to see how big the baby will get over the next 5 months. They don't seem so big when they come out, but it seems like an awful lot of person to have hanging out in your belly where there isn't usually a person hanging out.

I like pretzels better, too

It's been a while since I sat by myself on the sofa, laptop chugging along, and laughed out loud at something I read online. I don't mean chuckled or even giggled, but straight up laughed, hardee har har.

Yesterday, that all changed.

I got to this link via Liz's site and a link she had posted in her sidebar, then a link that site had in it's sidebar that led to a page that linked back to the original on Design Observer. That's a lot of linking.

AIDS Walk San Francisco 2007

This year I'm joining the inspirational Laura and her team of ABC 7 cohorts on the AIDS Walk. I've sponsored Laura in years past, but I've never actually dug my heels in and participated on the 10K walk through glorious Golden Gate Park. But since this year's walk is on July 15th, the weekend after I make my triumphant return to the Bay Area, it seems fitting that I pack my dogs into my Subaru wagon and head up to the city to be a part of Laura's team. I'm really looking forward to it--the walking, the seeing good people, the getting out and about with dogs, and the supporting a good cause. I've always been a supporter of the ASPCA and various dog and cat rescue societies; I have no problem opening my heart, my home, and my wallet to soft furries. And I've been known to sponsor my friends who have the heart and the time to do things like AIDS walks and MS rides and cancer runs. But I've never been as generous with time as I'd like to be. Call it a belated New Year's resolution, chalk it up to mom-to-be syndrome and wanting to make the world a better--if not perfect--place before my due date. Call it whatever you want, but call it a good thing. And you can do a good thing too by sponsoring me on the walk! Of course, the easy, online sponsorship form requires the use of my first and last name, obviously not blog-friendly content. So if you want to sponsor me and don't know my last name, take an extra step and email me and I'll send you the sponsorship instructions. Go team no more AIDS!

I Demand Satisfaction

Ooooh, I've got Turkey on the brain, in more ways than one. I simply can't wait to go to Bitez and Bodrum! Snorkeling! Lounging! Dolmas! Turkish Delight! Only 14 more days! I also simply can't wait to have a Beli Deli turkey sandwich! The oven roasted turkey! The soft french roll! The tomatoes! Only 54 more days! Yum!

Other US-centric cravings:
Froot Loops
Thai food
Chorizo Burritos

Once

There's a terrific Irish movie that seems to be getting a major-label release in the US. Once is not to be missed, and I'm telling you all now: find out when and where it's playing in your city and GO SEE IT. Then go buy the soundtrack. It sounds like this.

Electric Youth

Does anybody remember this kick ass TV show?



Wow, I loved that show. I think I was in 4th or 5th grade, and like any 4th or 5th grader, I was really into the whole lip-syncing and making up dances kind of thing. This show had everything: lip syncing, choreography, teenagers--perfect for the all-important 10-year-old demographic.

Everyone who knows our engagement story will not be surprised to know that we've considered incorporating some choreographed lip syncing into our wedding ceremony, specifically Michael Jackson's Thriller. When the story of your proposal involves zombie armies and general living deadness (zombie armies and general living deadness that can shake their undead booties, mind you), it's only natural to bring it when it comes to the wedding. Sadly, we're not the only ones with awesome ideas like this.



(Thanks, Laura!)

Of course, ours would be much better. But our wedding's going to be so small that everyone would have to join in, including the dogs and the rabbi, for it to have any real impact. I'm not writing the choreographed lip syncing wedding segment off altogether, but maybe something a little more duet-friendly. Like (I've Had) The Time Of My Life from Dirty Dancing, or Tonight, I Celebrate My Love by Roberta Flack and Peabo Bryson. You can't loose with a name like Peabo.

Scottish Road Trip

It turns out that I was quite ambitious in my Scottish trip planning, as far as distances between destinations go. We did a ton of driving over the bank holiday weekend, and we saw an awful lot of Scotland. The iPod rwally came in handy, providing us with 3 days of extra super fantastic driving tunes, from Weezer to Neil Diamond to David Bowie to Neko Case. Of course, it was amazing! We spent most of the time in Highlands which is known as the UK's wilderness area. There were tons of lochs, dozens of castles and ruins, and copious amounts of sheep and pheasants. Pictures are up at Picasa Web, and I apologize for the obvious lack of sheep.



On Saturday, we took the ferry from Northern Ireland to Southern Scotland and proceeded to drive up the west coast along Loch Lomond to the lower-to-central Highlands, spending the night in a wonderful hotel in Ballachulish. Max encouraged me to try the haggis, and I have to admit, it was pretty darn tasty. I won't be rushing over to the interweb to look for any recipes, but I did enjoy it.



Sunday was whiskey day, and we drove through the Highlands up to Loch Ness and east to the River Spey where a good deal of Scottish single malt whiskey is distilled. On the way to our first distillery tour of the day, we stopped on the Glenlivet estate for Max to try his hand at clay pigeon shooting. (No clay pigeons we're harmed, but Max's shoulder is a bit worse for wear.) We toured The Glenlivet and Glenfiddich distilleries, learning the intricate differences between Scottish and Irish whiskey--Max is a total expert at this point. We also happened upon the annual Speyside Whiskey Festival which brought together a lot of smaller, independent distilleries--and more tasting. It was beautiful driving, and a lot of fun. To top it all off, we stayed the night in an old castle that had been converted into a hotel. It was really something special, and the grounds were astounding, not to mention the food and hospitality.



We started off bright and early Monday morning to make the long drive down through Braemor, Perth, and Glasgow back to the west coast to catch out ferry back to Northern Ireland. The weather was dramatic and mixed, with lots of heavy spells of rain and bright sun and rainbows all over. We drove the last leg down from Belfast to Dublin and arrived home as two very tired, but very happy and satisfied road trippers.

Next trip: Bodrum, Turkey in a few weeks, followed by Spain in June.

Eastward and Upwards

We're off to Scotland tomorrow morning, bright and early. We'll be driving up to the North then taking the ferry across form there. Then it's on to the Highlands (there can be only one) for whiskey tasting, haggis eating, and castle sleeping-in-ing. Huzzah!

And then, of course, there's the elusive scotch egg.

Somebody please explain this to me

What the hell???

No, seriously, what the hell???

A dream is a wish your heart makes

I was really homesick last week. Here in Dublin, my homesickness manifests itself in Disneyitis, or inflammation of the Disney. There is a great increase in my desire to go to all lands and worlds Disney, and there's a marked escalation in my intake of the Disney Channel and Toon Disney on the Slingbox. Exhibit A: my Amazon wishlist.

Even though as an expectant mother I can't ride any of the very best rides at Disneyland right now, I would trade all the tulips in St. Stephen's Green for a ride on Peter Pan's Flight, let alone Space Mountain, the best ride ever.

Ever.

It's definitely a combination of the sheer joy of Disneyland, the cotton candy induced sugar high, the general accessibility of Disneyland from San Francisco, childhood memories, and, of course, adulthood memories! Like road tripping with MEH and old high school friends and using walkie talkies and code names to stay connected. And Max's surprise birthday trip to Disneyland in 2004 with the Richmans and the gigantic corndogs that ensued. They couldn't have been more right when they called it the happiest place on earth, really.

Countdown to Home

I bought my plane ticket home yesterday which is, at the same time, wonderful and sad. Mostly wonderful, because it means that in 10 short weeks I get to be reunited with all things furry and slobbery. It means I get to go back to San Francisco, I get to back to the office, I get to drive and go to Target and see people that I like more often and make more wedding plans and shop for tiny baby-sized goodies. But it also means that I only have 10 weeks left to go and do and see, not only in Ireland but in the rest of Europe as well. I've had such a terrific time traveling around and seeing so many amazing places, and I know that baby on the way means putting that sort of thing on hold for a while, so I want to cram as much of it in as possible.

Let's recap the extra super fantasticness of it all, shall we?

Portugal, September 2006



Italy, October 2006



London, October 2006,



Central Ireland, November 2006



Israel, December 2006



Western Ireland, January 2007



Northern Ireland, February 2007



Euro Disney, February 2007



Paris, February 2007



London, March 2007



Southern Ireland, March 2007



Scheduled upcoming trips:

Turkey in June 2007

Upcoming trips that are still in the works:

Scotland

Barcelona

Southwestern Ireland

Contacts, Take 2

I'm trying contact lenses again. My last attempt at frame-free living only lasted about 4 months, but I have a new game plan. I'm not going to wear the contacts every single day, see. No, I'm going to mix things up. Some days, I'll wear contacts. Some days, I'll wear glasses. And hopefully, by the time we take wedding pictures in August, I'll have become accustomed to myself without glasses just enough that I won't look like a stranger in our photos.

Here's the thing: I've worn the same, uber hip black frames for eons now, and as much as I love them and allow them to define up to 65% of my personality, I just can't picture myself in my beautiful, poofy, white dress with the big ol' black plastic glasses. (Although, maybe if I wear the dress around the house for the next few months, things will change...) I even tried some different frames last year, but those really didn't work. After a few weeks, I went right back to my trusty black plastics. So I figured that maybe if I start now, I can ease myself into a face other than the one I'm so familiar with, and I won't look like a stranger in my wedding pictures.

Or, I can just complete the look with my low-top converse. That's a wedding picture that everyone can be proud of.

This is the cat, leaving the bag

OK then, so it's been hard for me to blog regularly lately. It's not that my life hasn't been a whirlwind of excitement--it has! Full of travels, house guests, sunny weather and wedding plans. In fact, the only things missing are those things with 4 legs and those things with initials like MEH.

In fact, it's the excitement that has kept me from blogging. I've had one big thing on my mind for weeks now, one, big, un-bloggable thing, but now I'm going to blog about it--and I apologize to anyone who didn't get to hear it from the horse's mouth before reading it here...Max and I have a tiny little friend on the way, in the form of a bun in the ol' oven. That's right! We expect little Samson to join our happy family in late October, which means I'll be fashionably pregnant at our long-ago planned wedding. Awesome. Maternity bridal fashion rocks!

Who knows if getting this load off my mind will help me blog more regularly. And I apologize in advance if my posts are more-or-less (probably more) pregnancy-centric for a while. I'm still very, very excited. But I've never been one to blog about really personal stuff, so hopefully I'll keep it to a happy mix of illegally posted mp3s and pictures of me frolicking throughout Ireland and the World at Large...for a few more months, anyway. And as soon as I start opening my posts with "This week, Samson is the size of a small lemon" go ahead and remove me from your bookmarks and feed readers--I understand.

But don't be surprised if while you're reading my blog, you get an overwhelming feeling of a giant, ear-to-ear grin that just won't go away.

Dublin Days

Max's sister is in town for a few days, and we love having her around. For the bank holiday, we went to the Jameson Distillery (effectively completing the holy trifecta of Irish Whiskey distilleries--Bushmill's, Old Midleton, and Jameson) and the Guinness Storehouse, and topped the day off with some festive teppan-yaki, a traditional Irish favorite.

More pictures later, and maybe a little gem or two from my recent soundtrack of life. (Until then, Liz has your musical needs covered.)

Six Days and Counting

The cab driver the other day told me not to be fooled. Don't pack away your coat just yet, love, he said to me. But SIX STRAIGHT DAYS of sunshine and blue skies has me at this point where I'm half thrilled, half delirious, and 100% waiting for the other shoe to drop. April in Ireland is rainy. Everyone knows that. It will remain dreary and at least mostly wet until June. Everyone keeps telling me, don't get used to it. Enjoy the longer days that will just keep getting longer. Enjoy the temperatures that have gone from the low to mid 40's to the high 50's. But don't think that winter is over yet. Winter here is also known as Spring. And Fall. Ah, but the Irish summer. I caught the tail end last year, and boy was it something. It almost makes the weather during the rest of the year worth it. Almost.

Obscure Dublin

I may have mentioned this in a previous post, but the current Dublin tourism campaign really trips me out. The concept is that you can find anything in you want in Dublin, for instance, Find Your Perfect Dress, or Find Your True Love, or Find Your Parking Place, all leading up to the grand theme, Find Yourself Here. But the strangely cool part is the theme song for this TV/radio/print campaign: You, You, You, You, You by The 6ths, a hauntingly beautiful ukulele-driven melody that been one of my favorites for nearly 7 years. Very hip.

But the really weird thing? Today, the ad campaign was right. At 3:30 pm, just a few hours before Passover began, I was actually able to find matzoh ball mix at a Super Valu grocery store in Churchtown, about a half hour bus ride from my apartment. There they were, tucked into the Kosker Korner section of the store, along with a freezer full of kosher meat (ew). The two shelves of kosher products were very well picked over (I guess Dublin's other 27 Jews got there before I did), but I got the matzoh ball mix which had been deemed by everyone involved to be the most important item, along with a few other Passover goodies. Mission accomplished! Find Your Perfect Last Minute Matzoh Ball Mix.

Where, oh where has my extra super fantastic blogger gone?

I've gone to wonderful and amazing places! Like Giant's Causeway:



And Glenveagh Castle and Gardens:



And the Waterford Crystal Factory Tour:



And the Old Midleton Whiskey Distillery:



And the Blarney Stone!



Did you know that in order to kiss the Blarney Stone you have to hang backwards over the edge of a very tall castle while an old, whistling Irish man grasps your midsection? Because you do.

My mom has been visiting from California this week, and she brought the sunny skies with her. We've been touring Ireland in our trusty rental car and having a brilliant time (as they say here). The days have simply flown by, and, sadly, Mom goes home tomorrow. But she definitely got her fill of sheep, scones and thick Irish brogues. Come back any time, Mom!

Don't You Forget About Me

Boy, have I ever been MIA. Incommunicado. Fallen off the face of the earth. And what's worse, I've left that clip from the Sarah Silverman Program as my last post for people to see when they check in on the blog. Not my finest bit of blogging. Oh well.

I've been in San Francisco since Friday (technically, Foster City and Palo Alto), and the weather alone has made me consider skipping out on my flight back to Dublin on Sunday. 70's and 80's, clear blue skies--flip flop weather. It's been great being back in the office this week, actually seeing and talking to people during the day. It's a big change from my life as a Dublin hermit, and a very healthy addition to my daily routine. As much as I'll miss Ireland and Europe, I'm looking forward to coming back to a place where I can interact with friends and family on a level other than email and long-distance, time-zone impaired phone calls.

Lots of extra super fantastic things have happened since I got here. Beli Deli sandwiches. An A+ grade on my checkup at the dentist. More Nanna belly than you can shake a stick at. Alaskan King Crab legs. Pie day. Sharks hockey. Hugs from my local nearest and dearest. And even though my peeps in Oregon, Texas, Colorado and Minnesota aren't represented, I feel a little closer to them than normal.

See what I mean?

This is what I was talking about in that last post when I said The Sarah Silverman Program was simultaneously funny and uncomfortable:



Ha ha! Ow!

Kinda Sorta Maybe A Little Bit Funny

Has anyone been watching the Sarah Silverman Program on Comedy Central? I downloaded the first episode with my dwindling store credit from Itunes a few days ago, and I honestly don't know what to think. I like Sarah Silverman, and I certainly tend to like underdog comics (think David Cross, H. Jon Benjamin, or Kids in the Hall). And don't get me wrong, I laughed, like, a lot. But I also felt sort of unsettled and confused. Of course, that's probably the point.

There are lots of ways to feel sort of unsettled and confused. Like this gem from a few years ago, now made readily available by You Tube:



Heck yeah! I think it was Dana who originally shared this with me, back when she was big into sending items for sale on Craig's List to her co-workers while using the email address of another co-worker as the sender's email address...hilarity ensued.

"Hey, Joe."
"Yeah?"
"Why did you send me this vase?"
"What?"
"Seriously dude, why did you send me this vase?"
"What?"
"..."

Priceless.

In Between Days

I had a lovely time in London with Maya and Vivi. We saw some sites, we at at Chili's, it was good. So now I'm back in Dublin, but, like 2 ships passing in the night, Max is in Israel for the week. Sigh. But as soon as he comes back, we leave for San Francisco--yay! I'm long overdue for a dog-and-cat-filled week, a Beli Deli sandwich, and some hugs from my Bay Area peeps.

Cheerio Gov

I'm off to London tomorrow to visit my soon-to-be-brother-and-sister-in-law. I love these city breaks that one can take while living in Europe. Barely an hour on a plane and I can spend the day site-seeing, eating at new restaurants, seeing dear-but-not-so-near ones. I'd like to take a lot more of these city breaks over the next 6 months--Barcelona, Berlin, Prague, Dubrovnik. Even though I hardly spend a weekend in Dublin anymore, it still feels like there's so much more to see and there's no way I'll even see a tiny chunk of it. I've got to knock the holiday machine into high-gear. I mean, how often do you get the chance to live in Europe for a year? The smart readers of this blog will promptly buy stock in Aer Lingus.

Back to County Clare

Max and I went to County Clare over the weekend with our buddy Patrick. We stayed overnight in the adorable town of Ennis where we found a great local pub to sit in and watch the Ireland vs. England rugby match. As Ireland thrashed England, it was great fun to be surrounded by dozens of loud and excited fans--and it made me miss hockey even more! After the game, we listened to some traditional Irish music at a great pub with a roaring fire and plenty of Guinness. A prefect way to spend the evening.



The next day we drove up to the Cliffs of Moher where the shiny new interpretive center had just opened. We all had to battle the wind and I was really glad they had decided to build that wall at the edge of the cliffs. After the cliffs, we took a tour of the Aillwee Caves in the Burren. We saw lots of stalactites and stalagmites and underground waterfalls.

We had a terrific time and it was Max's first trip out West. Plus, it's always great to get out of Dublin for a couple of days. Of course, pictures are up on Picasa Web. Enjoy!

Soundtrack of Scattered

Been kind of scattered and unfocused this week. Not too conducive to blogging. But here are some songs to get you through the weekend:

My new and current obsession

One of the highlights from the CD that Beeb made for me last year

Bananiculous

I was going to blog about this commercial that I see, oh, about 500 times a day on Irish TV. It's a commercial for a ring tone called "Banana Phone" and it's just plain weird. But as soon as I typed "bananaphone" into my trusty Google deskbar, I learned that I am, sadly, waaaaaay out of the loop.

The best part is the title of this link at the bottom of the article:

"Animation in which a man is driven insane by the song Bananaphone."

Yeah, not hard to believe. Just for the sake of hearing the song (I'm sure the Irish ring tone ad is in no way related to the badgers or robot-banana-thing), here's a link to video using the (weird, weird) song.

Sh-Boom Sh-Boom

It was right around this time last year when I drove to Disneyland with Beeb. She had this terrific Doo Wop CD (which I may or may not have hijacked until I left for Ireland) that really rubbed me the right way. A few iTunes playlists later, and it's been a Doo Wop kind of year for me. It's especially helpful when I'm walking around rainy Dublin listening to The Platters or some such, and my half smile is all Beeb induced. And then I know the love is real when I go to her Myspace page (ONLY to read her blog, as I am firmly anti-Myspace) and she's got The Flamingos playing in the background. Sigh.

Feel the love of Whispering Bells by The Del-Vikings. Is it the ding ding dings that rock my world? Or could it be the dong dong dongs? Either way, the hand claps make me weak in the knees.

Six Degrees of Scott Baio

Annie was on TV last night, and boy did I enjoy the hell out of that movie. Such memories! My girl scout troop performed a stunning dance number to Hard-Knock Life back in the 5th grade talent show. In 7th grade, it was our junior high school musical--the same year I learned that "set crew" is junior high school-ese for "not cool or talented enough for the cast." Good times.

I hadn't seen the movie in ages, and I felt as though I was reuniting with old friends every time there was a scene with the core orphans, Duffy, Kate, Pepper and Molly. But one of the orphans looked much more familiar than a supporting orphan role should. So I whistled to my trusty internet connection, and hi ho, Broadband! Away! IMDB was useless because none of the lesser orphan actresses had pictures to identify them. But Google came through, providing me with an Annie fan site which explained why that orphan in the purple dress seemed so damn familiar: she was April Lerman, the actress who played Lila Pembroke on the superior first season of Charles In Charge! That theme song still brings tears to my eyes. I loved Charles. He was the first of what would be many (many) pop culture obsessions (cough-cough paulmccartney cough-cough theymightbegiants cough-cough).

Man, I loved that show. Man, I loved Scott Baio. And I was honestly sad when the Pembrokes moved away at the end of the first season and were replaced by mediocre sit-com family the Powells. I'm pretty sure my entire love affair existed in the realm of Sunday afternoon re-runs, sandwiched between agonizing episodes of Small Wonder and Out of This World. What better way to unwind after a long weekend of organizing my day-glo socks and hanging out at the mall in my acid-washed denim skirt. Yikes.

And, for good measure, let's not forget Bugsy Malone.