Boobies! September 14, 2007

heh. My hits have been lagging the past few days, so the title oughta help.

Because I don’t know who googles like crazy, part of this story is not quite true. From what I’ve seen, you can get to my blog by asking google some weird shit. That might be a reflection on what I write about more than it is google’s fault. Anyway…

Last week, I was waiting for the doctor. Next to me was a woman with an adorable little infant and we struck up a conversation. There was no one else in the room and my doctor and her staff are all women, which I imagine made the woman feel at ease and so, in the middle of the conversation, she nonchalantly hiked up her shirt, dug into her bra and started to feed her fussy baby.

Like, in the middle of something I was saying. I struggled to keep the flow of my current pontification over whatever it was I was talking about, which on the best day of my life is difficult to do, but with her suddenly breastfeeding…I stumbled.

Honestly, women breastfeeding in public is high on my agenda of things to fight for. There is nothing wrong with it…it’s not gross or lacking couth…it is natural. New mothers have a hard enough time as it is without being hassled for breastfeeding where and when they can.

Having said that, I find nothing wrong with the use of a blanket for added privacy. This woman could very well use blankets for privacy and since she was in an all female environment, I think she felt a bit more free to feed her baby without worrying about such things. She absolutely was doing nothing wrong and I most certainly wasn’t grossed out, but it was more the shock of it.

My circle of friends tends to contain less married people and certainly less parents than the usual 34 year old would have. Marriage is becoming more common, but I’m not very used to new mothers around me. In relating this story to a friend later on, he said to me “so, you’re not as progressive as you think.” But I disagree. I think the shock came more in that a stranger performed a fairly intimate act without warning. I told my friend, “it would be like me taking off my shoes and socks in the same environment and without warning. It’s not gross, it’s not wrong, but it would be unusual and most people would probably skip a beat in their conversation.”

So, new mothers, keep on truckin’ and feed your baby with confidence. But, if you’re sitting next to a stranger…maybe give the girl a little heads up.

Superbad and one of those things September 11, 2007

I just got home from seeing Superbad. Unless someone presents me with a teen flick filmed post-1989, I will deem it the best teen movie since the 80s. Admittedly, this may be in no small part due to my firm belief that Michael Cera embodies the same genius at 19 (or so) years old that Eddy Murphy did…just in a completely opposite way. So, not the same genius. A different kind of genius. What I”m saying is that he’s just as smart and funny.

this is to remind you of the old Eddy Murphy. Not the baby-denying, fat-suit wearing, jumper of the shark we’ve got now. Remember, he was about 19 when he did these SNL sketches.

this is to show you that the kid is funny…and only he’s 19, too. Also check out the internet series he and his friend did: Clark and Michael.

Anyway, I was driving home in the dark and pulled into a gas station to fill up Pepe, the German me-transporter. Now, I’m a girl…old to call myself a girl, maybe, but female nonetheless. Like most women, I have learned to trust my instincts and especially in the dark. A car pulled up about 20-30 meters behind me and, not liking that I can’t see someone in the dark, I turned around to look. Okay, I sound like I”m building suspense, but I’m not, so I’ll tell you now that nothing happened. Like, at all.

I looked at the car…just guaging my surroundings and this guy, probably in his 50s, was looking back at me. It kind of struck me as odd, so I kept my eye on him…in that way that told him that I was keeping my eye on him. He got out of his car watching me. I watched him, too. Not staring, but obviously aware of his position in relation to me.

Then I got a good look at him. He was just a regular guy. I felt bad a little…here was this guy who stopped in for a pop and chips knowing that this girl was not trusting him. He probably was a bit hurt that I chose him to find so untrustworthy that I couldn’t leave his walk from the car to the store unnoticed. I mean, that didn’t stop me from doing it, I’m not going to get surprised just because I feel bad for a guy…but just the same. It’s too bad things have to be that way.

where our heroine believes in omens…sorta September 9, 2007

caveat: When I feel the need to caputure my spiritual leanings in a word or two, I label myself ‘agnostic’. This is more a convention than anything, since the word agnostic seems to be to be broad enough to cover the gap from “not quite atheist” to “not anything I’ve heard of so far” fairly conveniently. What I do believe whole heartedly is, and I’ve mentioned this not too long ago, that there are many things I cannot, do not, and won’t be able to understand in this universe…and nor will any of us any time soon.

So, bearing this in mind, I shall continue on with my story.

I believe in omens. I believe in them like some people believe in astrology. Like, not the people who go to professional astrologists, but those ones who have a particular newspaper or magazine they like to read their horoscopes in because 60% of the time it give sound advice about something that vaguely resembles whatever it is they’re going through. My omens, however, are based entirely upon the viewer. I interpret them like dreams…one is only aware of one’s own mythology and so one is the only one able to interpret one’s dreams or omens accurately if one chooses to do so.

ha

Actually, I’m sure I’ve written about this before…actually, I know I have but it was a long time ago and I’m too lazy to search back. Something to do with squirrels and squeegie kids throwing pennies. Anyway..I’ve got a new one now and I’m not sure quite how to interpret it. But certainly, it means something.

Yesterday I was on my way to school to put in a couple of hours in the lab working on a project I’m involved in. This project includes major use of puppets, so I certainly enjoyed my saturday morning.

As I steered my bike out from the back alley, I saw tens of elderly lawnbowlers all dressed in white (their white hair made it even more noticeable) and it looked kinda neat against the manicured green grass, but I paid little attention and forgot about it until much later on.

Got to the lab. Did my work. Hopped on my bike.

On the bikepath coming home, I came across a small clearing where there was a little congregation involving a magpie or two, a bunch of crows (a murder, if you will…but I always think of a murder of crows being more populous and in flight), and a squirrel (very possibly a couple more…I passed this scene pretty quickly). All of these birds/animals were black. Chillin’. No one was fighting, humping, chasing off…just hanging out. Together. All black.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that I realized I saw the all white-clad human crew previous to the black-feathered/furred animal homies.

That’s gotta mean something, but I can’t tell what. Like I said before, only I’m able to interpret this for myself, but any guesses?

sorry for lack of output & sorta youtube romp September 7, 2007

Firstly, I’m addicted to this (thanks Jacqui)

Secondly, my computer has been deciding to shut off whenever it damn well pleases. This leaves me with limited time to do anything on it so it’ll be going to the mac hospital on monday to have itself sorted out.

Thirdly, school has sprung and my life got considerably busier quite suddenly. You oughta see my dayplanner…it hasn’t seen that much action for quite some time, I’ll tell you. It and I had to powder our noses.

I’ll combine this post with a couple more youtubes:

yes, that is Steven Colbert dancing and singing…

So, things are good but I have a lot on my mind which has put my blogging on the back burner for now (as tends to happen when my head is in a swirl). I can’t even remember what I said about it in my last post, so I’ll just leave it up to mystery…or not.

The other day I had someone change chairs away from me when I told them what I do. That was funny.

I’ll leave you with a clip from The Forbidden Zone…Danny Elfman’s brother Richard’s first film:

goofing off September 7, 2007

You’re A Prayer for Owen Meany!
by John Irving
Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire
faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest
this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking
moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT
SOUNDS LIKE THIS!

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Wow! and I only answered, like, 5-6 questions!

Thanks gingersnaps!

difficult summer September 4, 2007

The truth is that this has been a difficult summer.

Looking back, I wish I had been more prepared and more determined to do well in the courses I took but, well, they weren’t really required or related to my field anyway. Still, the slight pangs of shame I feel every so often (once every few hours or so) have knocked my confidence down a few pegs so that I have honestly become shy about my PhD and where I’m going to apply. I feel lost with this PhD stuff…so much to consider. So much.

I considered today my first day of school and got to the lab early and did a good few hours of work. After coming home, a quick nap, some food and DVDs later, I’m back in the saddle and taking a break only to say hello to you, dear reader. I’ve been working through the summer and aside from those nasty courses, my research has been progressing. Nearly finished my first study (booking babies is my only obstacle) and starting on my second asap. That part feels pretty good, though I’ve had a terrible time concentrating on much else for the past few months and have almost wondered if I ought to see a doctor what with all the sleep I feel I need.

Right now, however, I’ve sat down to write my first draft of my first abstract to be submitted to my first conference. I wrote the first drafty title, I wrote my name and my advisor’s name under it, I wrote my department and my university….and….now what? Gad.

I think I’ll need some coffee for this. Wish me luck.

Grownups suck September 2, 2007

Today I was at my dad’s farm. I’ve actually not been to my father’s farm for quite a while because he regularly comes into town. Yesterday, however, was his birthday and so today I made the trip out to see him.

We strolled around “the grounds” and visited the pigeons, geese, guinea fowl, and chickens. I gave the bees a wide berth and met his horse Clyde and mule Jackson. We rounded the corner, wandering towards the house again and as I was listening to him talk with my head down, inspecting the grass and looking over at one of his dogs that was accompanying us. I saw movement. Like…hopping…but bigger than a grasshopper. Unless it was one huge-ass grasshopper.

This is what I was debating in my mind, frozen in spot, when my dad said, ‘oh…there are a TON of frogs here now’

Frogs?

FRRROOOOGGGSS?

“Frooooggggssss???”, I asked.

“Yeah. A ton of them.”

I immediately dropped to my hands and knees to find the little bastard. Frogs?? Jesus christ! I LOVE frogs! WTF, Dad?? Why the casual tone, goddammit!??

“Jesus, Dad…I think I just turned 10 again,” I called to him from 3 inches from the ground, “‘cept my reflexes aren’t as good.”

He chuckled on his way back to the house and I eventually caught up to him because the frog got through the chicken wire before I could stop it. In hindsight, I hope he made it back out before the chickens found him. I was excited. Dad may as well told me he had chocolate geysers near the garden or landmines that exploded into hours of This American Life podcasts. The farm was alive with frogs, apparently!

Anyway…we went back and ate cake n’ stuff and went out to bring the geese in. I had no idea you could call geese. There’s one goose that somehow had a hole between his neck and his mouth that his tongue was hanging through. Dad had sewn the hole shut with some string so that the goose could eat again, leaving the string a little long so that he could recognize her and track her progress. It’s now stiff from exposure to mud and stuff so it is kinda curled out like a thin, long goatee. I’ve secretly decided to call that one Mefisto.

I saw another frog. This time, I wanted him more than he wanted freedom. I pounced, he jumped, I won. I ran to the house with the frog in my hands “Daaaddd! I neeeed a jaaaarrrr!”

Dad’s gf came out with an old peanut butter jar and dad burned some holes in the lid. I stuck the frog in there. Okay…so…umm…what now?

Dad gave me some advice about how to feed it and set up a small habitat….and then…something weird happened. My inner grownup said, ‘Himbly…are you going to really get this frog set up in an even remotely comfortable way ASAP?’

“huh? Shut up. I caught a frog.”

“yeah, but now what? He’s in a peanut butter jar. That’s no place for a frog. He belongs out there.”

“but I want him.”

“I know you do, but he’s just going to hang out for a few days and die. Face it.”

“but…can’t I ever have a frog?”

“okay, I’ll tell you what. If you go home and in the next few weeks you can find a small aquarium and set it up properly, then we can come back to the farm and catch a few frogs? Is that better? Would you like that?”

“yeah…”

“yeah…that would be better, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah.”

Okay, although that inner dialogue didn’t happen exactly that way, it is true that my inner grownup had to bargain with myself and I am considering setting up an aquarium for when I go back. Grownups suck. I would have had a frog right now.