Ce n'est pas une baby blog

I just finished reading this great blog by a lady in Arizona about her pregnancy. I haven't even poked around the rest of her site to see what else she does, but I can sense a kindred spirit. I couldn't stop clicking and reading as her 9-months unfolded. I was in awe of her experience, which she chronicled in really honest and fun detail, that I was inspired to start writing about this crazy situation of being pregnant. One of my favorite lines: "I'd rather go commando than wear granny panties." Amen, sistah!

Today -- 13 weeks! We are still weirdly giddy about it. We have come up with about 1 girl name and 3 boy names that we like. I think he's a boy.

Until today today, I was convinced I wasn't showing yet, but we went to the Newmans' for dinner and Amie was like, "Wow girl! You have popped!" E and A both came and felt the belly. Goosebumps! The kiddo is really high up and the only part you can tell is right under my boobs -- it's hard and tight and full-feeling.

It was funny timing to start showing as this morning, for the first time, I was uncomfortable laying on my stomach. Things are happening! It's freaky and awesome.

In 4 days we have a midwife appointment -- the heartbeat and my BP are the two things that sit on the forefront of our minds.

We went to Costco today and bought a new digital camera and four "luxury" pillows. It felt spontaneous and decadent. I tell myself it's all about the baby so it's OK.

I feel incredibly lucky to have had no sickness, no food aversions, no trouble getting pregnant...this is a strange and cool trip so far.

Baby Radar

Lo and behold, Keith Knight and his gal are knocked up too! I am looking forward to him writing about the father's perspective over the coming months.

Effin' Awesome Oprah

I love The Hater on the A.V. Club...Hating Oprah and her Favorite Things is like shooting fish in a barrel, but god! It's funny!

Last week, Oprah unveiled her annual list of her Favorite Things™, an assortment of gifts that are either ugly, useless, obscenely expensive, just plain dumb, or all four, that loyal Oprah-watchers can purchase from her website, or obtain simply by wishing hard enough (according to The Secret).

Of course, this list is no ordinary list. Its roots go very deep into the collective subconscious of both Oprah and her fans. In fact, much like Dark Side Of The Moon allegedly synchs up with The Wizard Of Oz, nearly everything on Oprah's Favorite Things™ list neatly matches up with the symptoms of clinical depression.

Some of my Favorite Things from this list:



Item: Ugg Boots knitted out of pure sadness



Item: Williams-Sonoma Cupcake Assortment -- Eating your feelings has never been so delicious!

Item: The most unattractive outfit in the world.

Link here

My blog reads like Mrs. Beach's 11th grade AP English

Cash Advance Loans

Food Photos

So many amazing homespun food blogs these days. I have fantastic reading material any time I need a new cookie recipe or want to learn about local wild mushrooms. The other thing about food blogs, though, is the photos. Sometimes amazing, well lit and appetizing and sometimes....not so much.

Here are some examples: Which one doesn't belong? On the left, a great picture from Glutten-Free Girl -- you can almost taste the zucchini and cheese all cold and salty and creamy. In the middle, Ellen's garlic spear soup. The creamy texture finds its way to your tongue without ever tasting it! And on the right, an all-too common picture from a food blog where what they are serving is a mystery and it doesn't look tasty at all.




For the takers of photo #3, help is on the way! How great that digital cameras are catching up with the trend of food blog writing. The Olympus Stylus Series, now available with a "cuisine mode" which, according to their website, "enables you to take pictures of food by increasing the saturation, sharpness and contrast settings to take sharp, vivid pictures of the subject." Here's to more attractive, appetizing food writing!

Got Your Costume Yet? I'm going as something really scary...like a melting polar icecap

Bill Maher has a few good lines in this short piece on Salon. My favorite because it's oh, so painfully true:

This week -- as every week -- all the Republican candidates talked about was who was toughest in the war on terror. While the country's most populous state literally burned. The Democrats, as usual, said nothing, because they didn't want to offend fire.

Crap! He's so right, though! The Dems make me feel like we are watching a mockumentary that is the political clusterfuck these days, only it's actually happening. Christopher Guest is the President (all shakey and smirky) and he has his pet dog who has his own website. Eugene Levy and Fred Willard are the Democrats in charge, who couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the bottom and Jennifer "Soup" Coolidge is the President's vapid and glassy smiling wife whose cause might be something important like, "zucchini".

How far from the truth is that? Like most of Guest's funny movies, not very.

Queertools

My friend Blaire with an E brought this to my attention and, in his words, it proves that the Japanese are the world's strangest people. If there is an invention that you do not need, the Japanese have invented it and they call it, chindogu or "queer tools." Imagine toilets that sing to you, hairbrushes that vacuum your head, tiny mops for your cat's feet...The invention in the picture to the left is a vending machine costume to prevent crime. Urban camouflage that the wearer can unfold and hide inside in case crime is near. Queer? I'd say so.

Fun with Words

From Clusterflock:

Ann Coulter=
Unclean Rot
Corneal Nut
Rectal Noun
Cannot Rule
Loaner Cunt
Annul Recto
Can Lure Not
Real Con Nut
Real Cunt On
An Ulcer Not (I disagree with this one)
La Cunt En Or (Sounds French. Say it again: LOUD!)

The Night Max Wore his Wolf Suit...

I have heard little bits and pieces about this for a while, but not until Just Now did it hit me how excited I am about it.

Dave Eggers and Spike Jonze (I couldn't have wished for any better) are taking on the insanely difficult task of making the children's book Where the Wild Things Are into a live action film. Actually, it appears they already have made it into a film and it is in "post production" right now. Due out October 2008.

Here's what New York Arts and Events has to say:

Eggers and Jonze — mostly, we suspect, Eggers — touchingly sketch this troubled family unit and carefully track the rising frustration and alarm Max feels as his world becomes darker and more unhappy, until, on page 21, he runs away, climbs aboard a boat, and sails to the island of the Wild Things.

There Jonze's influence begins to be felt, as the enormous creatures — with names like Carol, Alexander, and K.W. — look to Max as their King, and in a series of marvelous adventures, wrestle tornadoes, eat mud, and tame hawks. Always, though, there's a subtle undercurrent of menace, and it becomes clear that while spinning a yarn, Jonze and Eggers are also taking us on a tour of Max's psyche, as he works out so many of the issues that plague his young life.
(link)

Here is the still that shoved me over the edge from very interested to unbearably excited:


You see, this is no ordinary book for me. Ever since I was a kid, I could recite this book from start to finish. It's a gorgeous, dark, funny, adventurous, sad and heartwarming book that made my little girl heart feel all kinds of conflicting emotions. I felt jealous of Max for his monster friends and his adventure that his mom knows nothing about. I felt lonely in his room and scared for him on the boat and so thankful that, in the end, he doesn't have to miss dinner due to his travels. His dinner is waiting for him. And it's still hot.

When I was 6, I threatened to run away. This was the book I made sure was in my suitcase. I told my dad I was leaving. I think I thought I could go to where the wild things were. I was heading all the way (down the street) to Lake Merritt. By. Myself. I packed my book. I packed two of my plastic candy-colored records that could only be played on the wind-up Fisher Price record player and a t-shirt (at least two years too small for me) that had a picture of Cookie Monster and a recipe for chocolate chip cookies on it. I don't know how I remember all this, but I do. These were my things. The things I would need.

I didn't end up running away. I think my mom was at work but my dad managed to talk me out of it by telling me if I left, he would be "saddened." I measured that thought carefully and changed my mind. It would be too much for me to risk. I think he knew that, and he knew I wouldn't leave, but we hugged and he asked me not to go and I told him I wouldn't. I thought at the time he was giving me the choice, and I was making the hard choice not to go, though now I can only imagine that the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants choices that must accompany first-time fatherhood and how to handle this must have weighed on him. He took an approach and it worked.

Later, I felt bad. I remember crying in my room. Crying at my lost adventure, but also crying at the thought of him "saddened." Not just "sad" which he would be in control of, but "sadd-ened" which would be totally my fault. I didn't understand (or even realize) the nuance then, but the weight of the word and the afternoon of conflicted and difficult revelations has stuck with me for about 30 years.

That book is tied to all that for me. And as I have read it to all the kids in my life and will read it to my own someday, I feel the weight of that story, of that boy, feeling alone in the world and wanting some control over his life and creating a place in his mind where that can happen. I feel the weight of his decision to return home and the wonderful care with which his mom has left his dinner waiting for him. This detail, only in the retrospect of growing up, is the most important one. Max was loved.

All that from a little 21 page book. Funny how those childhood stories stick with you. I am so looking forward to what Dave can do with this. I simply cannot wait.

Food problem

I am not sure what about this news story made me want to blog about it except that it is disgusting:

Hardee's rolled out its new Country Breakfast Burrito on Monday. It is a two-egg omelet filled with bacon, sausage, diced ham, cheddar cheese, hash browns and sausage gravy, all wrapped inside a flour tortilla. The burrito contains 920 calories and 60 grams of fat.

60 grams of fat. Seriously people, does anything about the phrase "portable country breakfast" sound good? No. No one should eat this. Period.

In other news, we spent the weekend with my family in Lincoln City, Oregon. We ate and walked on the beach and played Scrabble and rested. There are several traditions that we have tried to uphold on this trip over the years. One is that Jon and I stay in Portland on the first night and then go to Powell's the next day. We each buy the basic outline of our year of reading all in one trip. It's a book buying feast. Unlike the burrito, this is the kind of gluttony I can get behind.

Effin' Awesome Music

I think I am late to the party, but I just discovered The Cave Singers. At turns Fleetwood Mac, The Castanets and Akron Family, this Seattle band has hit just the right spot. I heard "Dancing on Our Graves" and went out to buy the album that day. They are another layer in the Appalachian love story that is new folk music.


Their new album is out now and they also have a groovy photo-centric blog

We've declared war with Iran

Our Democratic majority is fucking useless.

While no one is listening, 28 mutherfuckin Democrats are voting YES on Senate Amendment 3017.

This amendment was called "Cheney's pipe dream" by Jim Webb. It states, in part:

(3) that it should be the policy of the United States to combat, contain, and roll back the violent activities and destabilizing influence inside Iraq of the Government of the Islamic Republic of Iran, its foreign facilitators such as Lebanese Hezbollah, and its indigenous Iraqi proxies;

(4) to support the prudent and calibrated use of all instruments of United States national power in Iraq, including diplomatic, economic, intelligence, and military instruments, in support of the policy described in paragraph (3) with respect to the Government of the Islamic Republic of Iran and its proxies;

(5) that the United States should designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps as a foreign terrorist organization under section 219 of the Immigration and Nationality Act and place the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps on the list of Specially Designated Global Terrorists, as established under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act and initiated under Executive Order 13224;...

Did you get that? These three paragraphs are basically the Senate giving their blessing on the "use of all instruments" to "combat, contain, and roll back the violent activities...of the Islamic Republic of Iran" and "designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps as a foreign terrorist organization" and "plac(ing) the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps on the list of Specially Designated Global Terrorists."

Remember when we said if the Dems that we elected rolled over and let Bush bomb Iran, there would be huge backlash and people would take to the streets and riot? Well get ready. I feel a riot coming on.

A few thoughts on the roll call:
the fact that Hilary Clinton voted for this makes it impossible for me to vote for her for President. I'm not sure I would have anyway, but fuck! She's as useless as the rest of them.

Murry, one of our two Democratic Senators here in Washington State voted for it.

Speak up, Sisters

We walked out of the movie into the dark Seattle night holding hands and sighing, not knowing what to say. It's hard not to feel completely hopeless, we remarked. The movie was The Devil Came on Horseback, a documentary about a man, Brian Steidle, who witnessed and recorded the atrocities in the Darfur region of Sudan with a camera and a notebook and hoped his reports would find their way to someone who could change things. In fact, he trusted, because of his faith that America would do the right thing, that his work was making a difference. But when he got home to the States, the story was his to tell. No one was talking about it; his reports disappeared into the ether. The veracity of his work was questioned by Sudanese living in America, the US government and the media.

The movie, which incorporates hundreds of Brian's photos, is not without its faults. The images, which are gruesome, bloody and hard to forget, are scattered throughout the film with haphazard and seemingly random ferocity. We are not given context for the bloody puddles in the dust, the half-buried, charred bodies, and blackened heads with mouths agape locked in their tortured last moments of screaming. See what I mean? These images will haunt you. And they should.

Another image that haunts me is one of the eyes of a woman in the refugee camp in Chad who, through a translator, states that after “the violence” occurred, her husband left her. Her watery coal-black eyes flit toward the camera for a brief moment and then away. "The violence" is the term they use for when they are raped by the Janjiweed. We learn through the translator that in Sudan, the stigma of being raped is so huge a disgrace that they often just say they were beat up or don't say anything at all.

The camps where the refugees are staying are called Displaced Persons Camps or DPCs. We are shown aerial shots from a helicopter, presumably, of a vast network of tents and corridors which stretch for miles. There are hundreds of thousands of displaced people here. In Chad. In Ethiopia and in Sudan itself. In The name "displaced person" has been used for decades to describe a person who has been removed from their home\land, but the term itself is troubling as it connotes a person who is still not in place. Dis-placed. To not be placed. To be without a place. To be in the wrong place.

Sudanese are living in these camps for years on end. They yearn to return to their villages, but there is nothing there and the danger is greater outside the camps. That said, the conditions in these camps are terrible and they aren't even necessarily safe. Another woman’s image haunts me -- she is tall and striking with long black braids. She speaks in clipped and correct English saying that they have nothing left. Everything is gone. She starts to tell us of who she has lost: her three brothers, her daughter and she begins to shake and cry. “Would you believe I am a teacher?” She asks as the tears take over. “I am a teacher!” I get goosebumps.

Back to the woman in the movie who tells Brian she was raped. She is not alone. She is one of countless women and girls who have been raped or mutilated, and then abandoned by their husbands or fathers. This is where it really hits home for me. I shift in my theater seat, I look away from the screen. I don't want to believe the horrors these women have been through. They are flesh and blood. They are teachers and daughters and mothers.

Brian looks directly at the camera and explains that the Janjiweed are paid in loot. Rape is a currency. In fact, rape has been described by the Janjiweed as an integral tool in their strategy. They get to loot and rape as they destroy each village or market. I remember reading in Dave Eggers' What is the What that when the men have been killed or have fled, the women are trapped and must watch as their babies are hacked apart, tossed down wells, their daughters gang raped in front of them. Think it’s hard to read? Imagine that this is your life.

Now imagine that the struggle doesn't end when you reach a DPC. Imagine that you are at the mercy of aid organizations which are operating on too little money and not enough time. The movie states that the places where the camps are located are often devoid of resources. They have no water, no shade and no trees. No trees means very little fuel for fires. No fires means no food. The Janjiweed patrol around the camps and compete for the same scant resources. If the men leave the camp to get firewood, they are castrated or murdered. If the women go, they are raped. It is the women who are forced to go. They sometimes walk 20 miles to gather a week’s supply of wood. These journeys are fraught with danger and if they are attacked, they dare not tell a soul. Imagine this after your house, your family, your possessions and your dignity are all taken away.

A woman from the Save Darfur Coalition came to speak after the film. One thing she told us about was an idea that addresses this firewood problem. It's called the Solar Cooker Project. There are several groups who are organizing to get solar stoves to the women in the DPCs so they don't have to risk their lives to get wood with which to cook. These solar ovens use the resource which is plentiful there: the sun and cook as well, if not better than, an open fire. They are inexpensive, portable and efficient. Jon and I decide the only thing we will put on our holiday wish list is that our friends and families to buy solar stoves for these women. They cost $30 for two. It is the smallest and simplest thing we can do.

I get home and begin researching the cookers. Much to my horror, there are four years worth of articles that chronicle this problem of being raped when hiking for firewood. I find one from 2004 on washingtonpost.com about how the problem is getting worse and worse. I find another from three days ago on CNN.com. Almost all of them mention these stoves and how it will make a huge difference in the comfort and security of the women in the camps. How can four years have gone by and we haven't organized to get every family in every camp a solar cooker? I am so ashamed. I, like Brian, would have thought that America would be doing something. I would have bet that the UN would hear this horrible story and act in the simplest and most peaceful of ways: by helping women provide for their families after they have all been through so much.

But they haven't acted enough, so now we must. This one small act to connect you to a woman across the world who needs your help. We can start here: The Solar Cooker Project and speak up until our voices of sisterhood and compassion are heard across the globe and into Sudan, into a camp and into the tent and into the heart of a woman who needs our help. How can it be so easy and not be getting done?

Bacon + Low = Good

Wow...what a great 24 hours. Last night, thanks to David, we saw Low at the Triple Door and today, thanks to 826 Seattle volunteer Blaire, I tried bacon chocolate.
Life is good.
Low was fantastic. Melodic and thumping. I feel like the bass player has it kind of easy. I know that's probably really offensive in bass-playing circles, but he just stands there and taps the strings twice every beat. Thump-thump thump-thump. On second thought, there was an awesome little military surplus Navy chaplain's "field organ" that he played for a couple songs. It had pedals and appeared to fold up into a 3' x 2' box with a handle.

The bacon chocolate was equally good. Like a Nestlé Crunch, only baconier. Tiny nuggets of salty goodness hidden in sweet and smoky milk chocolate. Nay-sayers can keep their boring ol' regular Hershey bars. This is candy ingenuity at its Homer-esque best. Bacon does make everything better.

Effin' Awesome Art

We have cool friends. Aaron is in the middle of some crazy never-ending art show where he send you passwords, which you send back and he mails you art. We have received 5 postcards (with awesome artwork) and 4 works of art. In my most recent email with our password I told him

"Not sure how you pick who gets which piece of art in this complicated project, but if you have anything of a polar bear barfing up a beautiful, beautiful rainbow, that would rock."

And oh, how it does. See for yourself.


Aaron is a genius. On a related note, his wife, Jessixa, who is also a genius, will be showcased in the next Pacific Coast issue of New American Paintings. They are the coolest married artists since Sonny and Cher, only with out all the beads.

Update: Required Reading

A while ago, I wrote about seven soldiers who wrote a piercing op-ed to the New York Times about their experiences in Iraq. One soldier died right before it was published and Brandon Friedman reports at Daily Kos today that 2 more of them were killed last week. Sigh.

Harvesty!

We ran into a friend at the Baguette Box this weekend (truffled fries!!) She clued us in on the coolness that is the Harvest Celebration Farm Tour. Here in King County on the day after the Autumnal Equinox, several area farms will open their gates to the public for a bounty-sharin', donkey pettin', hay-ridin', pumpkin pickin', chef-cookin' demonstrationin' good time.

Saturday, September 22 from 10:00-4:30 $10 suggested donation. We are there. Holubs? Newmans? We might see some show chickens -- too good to be true?

Bye Bye Beard...Bye Bye Fuzziness

My husband is a wonderful, wonderful man. Last year we raised $400 for 826 Seattle as a "farmer" and "grower" team. He worked on the mustache and I worked on getting donations.

After 6 weeks, he had the most wonderful, luxurious, salt-and pepper chin and lip hair you can imagine. Alas, he had to shave all but the 'stache for the cause. No beards allowed at the wrap-party.

Once last-year's 'thon was over, I begged and pleaded for him to grow it back. It wasn't hard...he hates shaving. So, Jon-with-a-Mustache became just Jon and the beard and mustache were just part of the package....

Until August 26. That morning we got up and he shaved his face. Naked. Back to Jon-Before-the-Mustache. Whoa.

The rules this year are going to keep him from growing the beard during the mustache-growing-season. I am not sure how I feel about this, but hey! It's my paycheck! I gotta jump all the way on board here. So Viva la Mustache! Give until it hurts! Go here to donate.

Death by Caffeine

If you ever wondered how many cans of Red Bull it would take to kill you, then there is an internet tool that might help.

The website Energy Fiend has a Death by Caffeine Calculator which will answer your every musing on the topic of weight vs. caffeine overdose. It includes everything with caffeine in it, from Sprite to No-Doz to Starbucks.

It would take 2,340 Penguin Mints to kill me. Neat.

Required Reading

Today in the NY Times there is an op-ed by seven soldiers stationed in Iraq. It should be required reading for every senator and congressperson.

The claim that we are increasingly in control of the battlefields in Iraq is an assessment arrived at through a flawed, American-centered framework...

We are skeptical of recent press coverage portraying the conflict as increasingly manageable and feel it has neglected the mounting civil, political and social unrest we see every day...

Four years into our occupation, we have failed on every promise...

What hits me the hardest in this piece is that these military "grunts" (their word, not mine) speak more eloquently, truthfully, and factually and realistically than anyone I have heard yet.

They close the letter with a line that I think is most important of their message:

We need not talk about our morale. As committed soldiers, we will see this mission through.

Translation: All you assholes saying that telling the TRUTH about where we are in this quagmire is bad for troop morale are full of shit and you offend us with your condescension.

The question is, will anyone listen?

Elijah vs. Baseball, Bond and Steroids

My eight-year-old god son (of "I don't have any trouble with the word vagina" fame) is obsessed with baseball. I wondered the other day how he was feeling about Barry Bonds breaking the home run record. Yesterday, I got this email which he sent to the editor of the Seattle PI and it answered my question.

Sent: Saturday, August 11, 2007 8:00 AM
To: Opinion
Subject: Letter to the Editor re: Barry Bonds from Elijah, 8 years old

Dear Editor,

I really think Barry Bonds has been cheating when he broke the home run record. Why is Barry Bonds getting all of this attention? He was definitely on steroids. Why are you letting all of this crud get past you? Alex Rodriguez is not on drugs, he isn't using a corked bat. He's a nice guy and I don't know if Barry Bonds is but I'd much rather Alex Rodriguez break the home run record than Barry Bonds. Hank Aaron didn't use steroids to break Babe Ruth's record and I think it's very nice for Hank Aaron to call Barry Bonds on the phone. But Barry Bonds didn't break the home run record because he was most likely on drugs.

Sincerely,

Elijah Gold Newman
8 years old

I have no opinion whatsoever about Bonds. But Elijah's ire is hard to resist. Well put, 'Lij. Why are they letting all that crud get past them?

Pictures in Sqaures

This is a fun tool -- Mosaic Maker -- I've been playing around with it and putting some stuff on Flickr. You can do it by URL or tag or set.

Here's a mosaic of our wedding and celebration:

That settles it...

...we need a bigger fridge.

The only problem I see here (besides the fact that we will have to work very hard to eat all this by next week) is that the vino verde is burried somewhere down under the three heads of lettuce.This represents ONE WEEK of Jon's free produce take home from work. We'll never have to buy veg or fruit again.

Locally Grown Pie

Jon's new job has provided us with a gorgeous box of fresh organic produce each week. Right now blueberries are plentiful and have great texture and taste with just the right amount of tart and sweet. The last batch came from Many Hands in Rockport, Washington. Our apple trees in the back yard are also yielding a fantastic crop of super-crispy tart apples right now. I have been working hard and getting creative to find ways to use everything. The result last night was this:

Apple Blueberry Pie
Served warm with vanilla ice cream on top. Can I get an amen?

Georgetown Lunches

I wasn't expecting too much, but I was pleasantly surprised with the lunch Jon and I had at Kurry King today (5503 Airport Way South, Seattle, WA). The proprietress doesn't know much English except numbers and "You want taste?" but whatever she offers you, say yes and you will be happy. They offer a globe-trotting variety of curries (and some non-curry items) that are not super spicy or unique, but for the price are really quite a deal. We tried everything and then settled on masman and panang, both with chicken. Lunch for two (two kinds of curry, rice, iced teas and a spring roll) came to $15.00 with tax and tip. Ever since Jon got hired at Pioneer Organics we have been exploring Georgetown with really great results. Today: SmartyPants!

Effin' Awesome Magnets

As Part II of my "Effin' Awesome" series (which wasn't a series until today), I give you handmade magnets by my very best friend, Krista! Seriously, check these out:
They are so pretty and come four to a tin. Krista runs a small studio called Gallimaufry Arts in Amador City, California. She is a self-described "mostly stay-at-home-mom" who has worked really hard to get her art out there. I opened her e- newsletter (subscribe here) this morning and knew I needed a set (or two!). Support independent art! Check out her shop, it's effin' awesome.

Museum of Unnatural History

Jon and I went to Walla Walla last weekend. My sister-in-law and her boyfriend have opened a great little fresh fish market called A Fish on Land, they offer Walla Walla's freshest fish and oysters and other seafood delights. During lunch they serve really amazing fish and chips. The town was fine. Cute. Quaint. Small town-y. I couldn't live there, but it was nice to visit and go to the farmer's market and drive around to the wineries. I thought I had Walla Walla figured out and then we found the absolute highlight of the trip: the Museum of Unnatural History located at the Black Door Gallery on the town's quaint little main street.

We found the three-room museum in the upstairs of a bank building and walked, unsure into a black door that said, "Open." There, a bearded older man stood looking at his guestbook. After gasping and gaping and being delighted with just the entryway's displays, I asked him if he was the artist. He replied, "Yes, if you call this art, I am the artist."

Well, it is art and the artist is Gerald Matthews. While we were there he sat quietly on what looked like a very old director's chair, green accounting-style visor obscuring his eyes. When we asked him questions he didn't say more than was necessary. He seemed almost zen however, an air of "crotchety" swirled around him, that of an old man so mad at the establishment, if he started talking about it he might never stop ranting. His art is a mix of collage, sculpture, folk art and pop culture. A small sampling of the pieces includes decrepit dolls' bodies arranged in shadow boxes with tiny animal skulls, a tray of antique keys, tiny cut-outs of the Bush administration's faces put on oldy-timey clown figurines, clay angels with clunky big feet. The pieces are wry, creepy, political and bizarre. He was very friendly and humble and asked Jon to send his digital pictures if he didn't mind.

I asked him if he ever sells his art and he pointed to the wall of framed photos hanging in background of the picture shown here and said, "I sold those ones and have been trying ever since to get them back. There's no reason to sell! The only reason would be for my ego and these pieces couldn't fetch a price around here to do anything for that for me, so no. I don't sell anything." As much as there are several pieces that I would be eager/proud/lucky to own if he ever sold anything, I kind of like the idea of this genius hiding upstairs of the bank and being the coolest part of Walla Walla.

Here's me -- Simpsons style - UPDATE

I have to admit I am totally sucked in by the Simpsons Movie hype. The website is awesome and Jon and I went to the Kwik-E-Mart a few weeks ago. Here I am drawn as a Simpsons character: (And Jon made one too!!)

Effin' Awesome Dinner

This is the dinner we had a few nights ago when it was too hot to cook and too hot to even go outside and grill -- I call it the salami salad sandwich thing:


Ciabatta rolls toasted
Coppa salami ripped into bite-sized pieces
Organic tomatoes sliced
Red onions sliced
Two fistfuls of Arugula
A small handful of toasted pine nuts
Goat Cheese

Spread goat cheese on the toasted bread
Pile all other ingredients on top -- include a few chunks of goat cheese here too
Drizzle with balsamic and really good olive oil
Sprinkle with flake sea salt and fresh ground pepper

It reminded me of our Italy trip last year, which we were just coming home from around now. In Tuscany especially, we had been keyed into the simplicity of a few good ingredients combined well. This sandwich is a perfect example of that.

It's not that she's a woman, it's that she's an idiot!

Rebecca Traister writes over at Salon.com about Katie Couric's interview in New York Magazine.

I could go on and on about the interview with Katie, but instead I want to comment on Traister's reaction to it. She writes that Katie's public candor about the fears she has and questions she's asking herself with regard to her career move aren't helping to bolster her ratings. According to Traister, she needs to buck up and "grow a pair" and lie publicly that she loves her new career and it couldn't be going better. This is grossly Stepford Wivien and I couldn't disagree more. It will no more help Katie's ratings than putting her in a man's suit and calling her Olbermann. I will say, though, that Katie has made a career being falsely sincere and the people who enjoy Today are apparently stupid enough to fall for it. Traister's point might be that the time for bringing back the false sincerity might be now and it could reconnect her with the folks she left behind.

I would put forth that the reason that people aren't interested in watching Katie as CBS Newswoman is the same reason that no one calls Today a news program. It's not news. She is not a newswoman. We lost (if we ever had) respect for her because of the ridiculous sincerity she asked the hard questions such as, "Who CAN wear white before labor day?"over and over on Today. She did stories like, "Is your purse making you look fat?" and "Which is better, girls night in, or girls night out???!" These are not news. She interviewed grief stricken families involved in the tragedy-of-the-week -- from dead children to missing pets to a boat overturned that ruined our picnic on the water (wah!). All treated with the same false sense of urgency and importance and the implication that as Americans we should all care deeply about their loss/pet/picnic/whatever. These are not news stories.

The idea that a person like Katie could bring her spunky can-do attitude and "ball buster with a heart of gold" personality to change the evening news into something that more people want to watch -- that was the mistake. Katie can ask smart questions, be serious, stoic and real, but her popularity was based on the bubbly, giggling lady wearing the captain's hat while honking the ferry horn on the Today Show. I'm not sure people like Serious Katie. If the evening news was a popularity contest, she might be able to flash her million dollar smile and softball questions and win, but thankfully, apparently it's not.

Super Birthday Noodles

We went to the Holubs for my birthday. Ellen was so kind as to prepare an awesome Asian BBQ spread that ruled. One of the items was a cold noodle salad that used the Super Birthday Noodles, of course.

The text from the package is awesome in that horrible badly translated way. Spelling and punctuation taken verbatim.

Features of the HF Handmade Birthday Noodles:

This Handmade Birthday Noodles, transferred from Fukien,china to Taiwan here, followed a secrect recine handed down from generation to generation, Continuously has been improved better the standard in quality&formulated with 4 seasonal salt solution in a rateable saltiness, is the best handmade noodles for the birthday greeting use and being namely as "Birthday Noodles," Fairly economical and Good benefit,Elegant&in good taste.Not only being a necessity for the Sacrifices offering to God.Birthday greeting, and Baby in Month old but also suitable better to make soup as snack in a delicious taste.We solemnly recomend it and appreciate you to tell every one its features.

They did have rateable saltiness and the features were great.

Sicko

Cross posted from my movie blog:

Jon and I left this movie feeling really angry. As per his usual, Moore tries to make it funny, and entertaining, but we are in a dire situation in this country and it is already so out of hand that it will never be fixed.

Several people in the film are asked if we have any chance of catching up to the rest of the "westernized" world and providing free health care to all -- to take care of our citizens -- to have free house calls and free nannies for newborns and mandatory paid maternity leave -- but they all agree it is not possible. If we are sick and poor or out of work due to illness and beaten down then we won't worry that the government is wire-tapping, torturing and lying to us. That is how the US government wants us.

Even Barack, folks.

He too wants us scared and quiet.

Corporations own our health care system (which isn't a system at all!) and their employees get bonuses for denying coverage to sick people. Citizens of other countries can't believe that we would turn away people who cannot pay. Are we heartless? Cruel?

Yes and yes.

Planet Unicorn Heyyy

I was going to write a ranting post about how Mattel's plan to market masc-fucking-ara to little girls (because they aren't, apparently, sexy enough!?) pissed me off, but instead, I decided to post this video:

Wine Club!

Our friends the Holubs (of Movie Night with the Holubs) invited us about six months ago to take part in a wine/dinner club through Bonny Doon Winery. We eagerly accepted, just happy to do anything with the Holubs. They know a lot about wine and food and we are learning things like wine comes in "white."

There are four wine shipments in the year and each one comes with a detailed menu, info about the wines and suggestions on parings, tasting, etc.

The first shipment went to Ellen to work her magic. She prepared a "goddesses" menu with Hawaiian salad (avocado, guava, grapefruit vinaigrette) and Moroccan tagine (she actually has a tagine!) with lamb and squash and for dessert an Egyptian pomegranate baklava. There were wines with each course, and of course, I don't remember them, but they were GOOD!

Long story, short, tomorrow is my night to prepare the shipment's meal and serve the wines along side. I am attempting things which I haven't even EVER cooked before here, people. It's more than a little intimidating. I even had the produce guy at Whole Foods stumped.

The theme is perfect for us, but I won't say what or where in case the Holubs read this today. I'll let you know how it goes!

Less scary than the "Backpack Bandit"

The smiling idiots on King 5 this morning described a female bank robber who wears a pony tail as "Fashion conscious, armed and dangerous."

OMG! o.b.s r kewl!

I bought some o.b. tampons yesterday. When I got them home, I noticed something weird on the box:
There she (?) was, a little cartoon dog on the side of the box with flowers and in crayon-y writing it says, "visit hiobie.com" So I did.

This is what greeted me:


Holy shit. It appears that my tampon of choice has been officially co-opted by tweens. On the home page we can mouse over the various "rooms" and with each one, a little animated Obie (the dog) peeks out to join in the menstrual fun. We can go to school, the movies and my favorite place when I am on the rag: the mall!

What bothers me first: All the writing is dumbed down online-speak.

...and I was like, ttly, like, OMG! Did U, like, take the period test? U can learn that like, it's ttly norm if U get ur boobs before ur "little visitor"...if U have yours and U tell me, I swear I won't tell any1. Having ur period is so ttly embarrassing. OMG!

What bothers me next: obviously girls are starting their periods younger and younger. Several factors contribute this: better nutrition (as compared, say, to the 1800s) all the way around the circle back to poor nutrition and an excess of fat; and something that freaks me out completely -- an "excess of estrogen in the environment". The average age is like 11 or 12 now and falling toward 9 or 10 by 2015 according to several articles posted at the Museum of Menstruation (who knew there even was one?!)

I totally get that if younger and younger girls are starting their periods that pads and tampon companies are going to market to them. It seems like they are making a (somewhat pathetic ) attempt to make it fun and cool and all peppermint candies and downloadable (period themed?) ringtones for girls only, but they miss that mark completely and the overall feeling is that you should treat your period like a dirty little secret and they encourage an underlying hatred of this function by "swearing not to tell anyone!" and having a place to post "period horror stories". Just to be clear, I am realistic about the drag of having a period and I am not suggesting that we build bonfires and eat Luna bars and dance naked under the full moon in a sisterhood menstrual frenzy, but I do know that the way society looks at the biological functions of women has a lot to do with how we are treated and valued and how we treat and value ourselves.

What bothers me most is that starting the self-hatred training so young is a tragedy and SUCH a missed opportunity for this company to be on the right side of bringing girls up to be strong, smart and confident and comfortable with their bodies. Personal Products Inc. (the makers of o.b. the tampon "made by a woman gynecologist",) is the one who should be ashamed, not the little dog who has her period.

Go here to tell o.b. what you think of "obie."

Oh Yeah....

I met Paul Newman on Friday. Holy crap! He came into 826 on Friday with Dave Eggers and his friend Stewart Stern (who wrote Rebel Without a Cause, if you're interested) and we visited for 3 hours. He and Stewart got Space Competency Certified and when they left they gave us all hugs goodbye!
Wow. This is Justin Space Competency Certifying him, which included making him make animal noises.

Camp Finance NorthWest!

I went to camp yesterday. We didn't make macaroni pictures or sing songs or learn to canoe, but instead we talked about the exciting world of Nonprofit Finance Management. Wooooo! The one thing that I want to write about is that I really, really, really don't want to be like my colleagues in the nonprofit finance world. They are dumpy, annoying, grouchy, unaware and boring. Jesus, people get a life.

That said, except for the whining lesbian who had to tell me all about how she was forced to come, didn't want to be there, wasn't going to learn anything, etc. etc.; the high-waistband nerd who talked incessantly about his particular situation that has nothing to do with the rest of the group taking the seminar; and the other guy who complained multiple times about how high the (standard conference center-sized as near as I could tell) chairs were from the floor because of his short legs(!), it was interesting and informative and I would go back and do it again for the wide and tasty variety of snacks that were offered throughout the day: Tims chips, cookies, a fridge full of juices and soda and water, jelly beans, etc. In the breakfast buffet, they even had a waffle bar. Suh-weet.

Sushi-cam

God this rules. I wish I had thought of it.

When you question the president, Tinkerbell dies

Bill Maher wrote the following funny editorial. I hate it when he's right because he's such a prick, but I almost always agree with him.

Canada!

To celebrate our anniversary, we drove to Vancouver BC. It's about 2 1/2 hours plus an hour at the border. CocoRosie was playing on Saturday night, so we went to see them and wander around the city. The show was amazing. Tez the Parisian human beatbox blew my mind. Busdriver was also a freak show of staccato slamming rhymes, and Coco Rosie, every time I see them, further cement themselves into my heart. I have this odd mixture of reverence and compassion for them. I am in awe of their story and yet, I feel wiser than and protective of them somehow...in any case, the show was insanely great and the weekend was amazing. Here is a little photo collage:

We saw this on the drive up. I hate businesses that misspell words in their names...it's not clever or cute. But this is reminded me of a baby blackbird my friend Jennifer and I "rescued" when I was in high-school and we named it Jalopy Payphone. It died, but we kept it alive for about 2 weeks.

Beef carpaccio, shaved pecorino, truffle aoli and fois gras stuffed olives at CRU. Local organic, romantic, great.

Coffee so big, we had to share.

We went to the Capilano Suspension Bridge and Jon went across. It was really beautiful and I wandered around the grounds-- it's a little like a Disneyland town with people in costumes and a General Store and a Loggers' Grill for lunch, but we just looked at the sites and left. Not before taking note that 1) the river was fast and cranky and 2) one of those workers looks familiar....

Every Day in May is out the window

Fuck! I suck at these "commitment" art projects. Best of luck to all the EDIM folks, who are doing great without my weird dinner contributions anyway. I will, however, celebrate my commitment art project which is my marriage, which has been going on officially for one year as of last weekend and we're right on track, thank you very much.

A mediocre grilled sandwich and a great cocktail

Last night before the Circus Contraption show, we went to the Zig-Zag, which has, like the best bar in America or something and had dinner and some really great house drinks.

Derailed

Avocado Chicken and Artichokes

We had a (very) ripe avocado so I used garlic and onion and spices and turned it into a savory sauce to spoon over these grilled chicken breasts. The artichokes were overcooked, but the first for us this year and very good and the Medoc (Chateau Gresysac 2001) was nice, but a little overwhelmed by this dinner.

Coriander Chicken and Spring Roll

We didn't get out of the movie until 8:30 so I stopped at Rom Mai Thai and picked up some quick stir-fry and rice. Nothing glamorous, but indeed delicious. Does Rosé go with everything?

Tri-tip and Mint Pine Nut Couscous

This is what we ate last night:
Onions, garlic and carrots in chicken stock to cook the couscous. Fresh mint, lemon zest and tomatoes stirred in once it was done.The steak was rubbed with spices and cooked rare. Cumin cream on top. Corn on the cob (not pictured). A (great!) bottle of Barnard Griffin 2006 Rosé of Sangiovese.

What's for dinner?

I'm sort of participating in the Every Day in May project (for the real deal of this kind of project, check out my friend Gibson's 30 Days in Red Pants.) Instead of painting a picture or making art, I decided to take a picture of our dinner each night. Usually I cook. Sometimes we go out. Either way, I think it's a fun undertaking.

Poe/lar Bear

I saw this on French Toast Girl. It struck me as awesome.

Setbacks

Ladies, if you thought your uterus and ova were yours to make decisions about, think again. The Supreme Court decision today has reiterated several stances taken by this administration:

1) Women are not citizens in the way that men are. Our bodies are not our own, but belong to some greater "good" that may or may not have our best interest in mind. Should we get pregnant, we are no longer in charge of what happens to us.

2) The court system is now a mouthpiece for the president. It terrifies me to watch the gradual retreat of the (well-thought out, meticulously planned, long-recognized as an integral part of our democracy) checks and balances that help to regulate our country. They were put in place to assure us that when the majority of the people hold an opinion contrary to the opinion of an administration, the majority will eventually have its way. It's not that other administrations haven't been at odds with the people, it's that now we don't have separate branches of government to make sure that the country, the justice system and, apparently, women's bodies don't end up belonging to George Bush.

3) It is the government, not OB/GYNs, who should recommend reproductive health care choices for women. The term "partial birth abortion" refers to a practice that doesn't even exist. There is a medical term for the kind of abortion that is performed in the 2nd or 3rd trimester, but "partial birth abortion" is a made up name and not a medical procedure. The Supreme Court of the United States has decided to politicize for the very first time the choices that doctors and women make about women's health. I also am appalled that Kennedy in his statement calls OB/GYNs "abortion doctors." Another fake term.

This isn't just about the access to affordable, safe abortions. This is about the fabric of our democracy and the rights of women as equal citizens.

Words overused by food review writers

1. Cloying

What it's Not

Last month, we discussed that "vagina" is not bad word. Here is a disturbing poster that illustrates another thing a vagina is not:

(stolen from i don't care much for this)

Part of the Problem

Hubby pointed out this War Room post from Salon. The main story is that a Bush administration employee leaked classified documents to a "friend" -- never mind that she works for the Department of Parks and Fish and Wildlife (or whatever) and the documents included information about endangered species and the friend's email address ended in "chevrontexaco.com" -- Bad? Yes. But you know what's worse? This employee met this friend while "playing online role playing games." What? Like D&D? Are you kidding me? First, is she 15?? Second, la-la land prevails in the minds of the whole Bush world. Lets roll a 20-sided die and pretend to be half-elf mage warriors. It all makes horrible, greasy, pimply sense. They don't face reality when they are NOT at work either.

This pretty much sums it up....

This great drawing was done by one of our volunteer teachers during a workshop over the weekend. Rules to live by...

New shit has come to light...

From Peek -- Horrific and sad....and completely related to my post from this morning. The fact that a principal of a high school in New York thinks that the word vagina is offensive is of the exact same stuff as the fact that men in Iraq in the army think it's not important to protect or defend women from rape. Get it?

Shin, Armpit, Little Toe, Vagina, Forehead...

Let's get one thing fucking straight: My girly body parts are not dirty, shameful or inappropriate for children. I'm not talking about pictures of vaginas (which aren't necessarily any of the above), any sort of sexual context or making anyone discuss vaginas against their will. I am talking about the WORD vagina, which names a part of the human body.

I am not surprised by this story at all. Sadly, I'm not even disappointed because I would absolutely expect nothing less. Three high school students in NY are possibly facing suspension for saying the word "vagina" in the context of a reading of "The Vagina Monologues." Their principal is a man. Big surprise. His name is Dick. I am not kidding.

The three students are on the Today Show this morning with Eve Ensler. Meredith handled herself with the usual airheaded idiocy. "But children were going to be present." I love that the president of the school board (also on the show) said that he has no problem with the word vagina and has heard it more in the last few days than ever before.

The point here is not if they get suspended or not, although, it would be an injustice. The point here is that there was even a question that the word in the context of an empowering phrase in a monologue that includes the word vagina may be offensive to hear. Ridiculous.

I think this point is well explained in the words, of Maude Lebowski. Let's consult the text:

MAUDE
My art has been commended as being
strongly vaginal. Which bothers
some men. The word itself makes
some men uncomfortable. Vagina.




DUDE
Oh yeah?


MAUDE
Yes, they don't like hearing it and
find it difficult to say. Whereas
without batting an eye a man will
refer to his "dick" or his "rod" or
his "Johnson".

As an aside, my godson Elijah, who was about five at the time and who says his r's with a little difficulty, overheard me quoting the above passage. He responded matter-of-factly: "I don't have any twouble saying vagina, but I do have a little twouble with my r's."

Amen, Elijah. You're the product of feminist parents. Should all children be so lucky. Obviously Principal Dick's parents weren't.