Hello from... home!

Starting last Thursday, I have been off from work. In a great big blowout of vacation time, I decided to use all my accrued time and take off for a week. A week plus one day. It has been, in a word, awesome. I miss not one thing related to work at all.

Last Thursday night was the flute choir concert. Fun night! My favorite piece was called Songs of the Ocean, by a Japanese composer named Hirose. I was lucky enough to get the flute 1 part alone, and I have to say, that flute 1 part and I were kind of made for each other (when I've been practicing). Hey, I have to say it: I know what I'm good at, and it's stuff that's romantic and floaty and possibly Japanese-sounding. It was a lot of fun to play.

I'm still looking for a good recording of it; for now, you can read a thrilling (?) description, here. Depending on how in tune we were, I might post a recording later. Check back at http://ccfcinfo.blogspot.com later. I'm sure I will mention it if/when that happens.

We also played Schubert (fun!), something called Mock Morris (with two piccolos! Me and Paula kicked butt on that one!), and a totally dorky arrangement of "Baby Elephant Walk." Guess which one my dad loved the best? Still, I love that he's been coming to these concerts lately; my sister and mom babysat the baby for me, and he chose to come to the concert instead of staying home to play with him. And the fun part of Baby Elephant was my friend Carol played the drums (abandoning her flute temporarily). Inside every flutist is a drummer, I guess!

After the concert I got to visit with some old friends, and since Patrick and his band were at a gig in Bakersfield and wouldn't be home until late, JP and I stayed overnight in Culver City. That was pretty cool, too. I miss you, Culver City!

Oh, and at some point on Thursday night, I dropped my iPhone on the hard cement floor in the girls' room at Farragut, but we won't be talking about that right now.

Saturday, we went to a graduation party for my niece, who kicked butt at her K-8 Catholic school and has been promoted to one of the local Catholic High Schools. Man, I can't believe she's growing up. Her mom was pregnant with her at my bridal shower!

Dude, I've been married for a long time!

Sunday I spent with my friends at a recital. I played a trio with Megan and Patrick, two recent high school graduates, students of my (former) flute teacher. They did a great job, as did all the other performers. I had the easiest stuff to play, and I have to say, I was pretty awestruck by all the performances. Megan played a gorgeous solo that I can't remember the name of (but I loved the piece), and she played a duet with my friend Marilyn that knocked me out.

Everybody sounded so grown up and so good that I was totally inspired. I think I need some more flute playing in my life. I like that I can recognize that. I have no idea how I'm going to make more time for it, but I will try.

On Monday we went to the beach with our friends Sean and Teresa, and their little daughter, who will soon be 1. It was JP's first trip to the beach, but after discovering that that beach is one of the most polluted beaches in all of Southern California, we all decided to stay on the sand. And thus, eye and ear infections were avoided by all. Still, we had a great time. Patrick and Sean got sunburned (kind of everywhere), I got a weird patch of redness on my left thigh only, and the kids, who were better protected, had no redness whatsoever. It was a beautiful day.

Yesterday I relaxed, slept in (8:30! Just think: two years ago, if I had to get up at 8:30 I would've been all, WTF!? This is not sleeping in!), rode my bike around town, and generally enjoyed myself immensely. Today has pretty much been a repeat of same. I wanted to ride my bike, and I'm so glad I have. I didn't go on any long rides (I rode about 8 miles total each day, which is nothing), but I did have fun running my errands on the bike instead of using the car.

My car sits, unused and dirty, in the exact same place I parked it Sunday. Or maybe it was Saturday. I can't remember. I like that so much.

Last night we visited with my brother-in-law and his wife and kids. It was my nephew's birthday, so we had cupcakes and ice cream. JP played with my niece pretty hard, and fell asleep on the way home, even through a trip to WalMart for kitty food (he and I waited in the car). Then, some kind of miracle happened, because in spite of a 3 hour nap at daycare, he then proceeded to sleep in his crib without waking up until 2 a.m.

That's kind of amazing. And, when he woke up at 2, all that I needed to do was nurse him a little bit, and he went right back to sleep, in his crib, until 6 a.m.

Fingers crossed that it wasn't a fluke!

Tomorrow night Patrick has another gig (not so far away this time, though), and we're starting summer flute choir... so I am considering another Culver City sleepover at my mom and dad's with the baby. He had a good time, and it worked out so nicely last time (the only bad thing: the bed in the spare room at my mom and dad's house has a mattress harder than the back seat of some cars I've been in. No, not lately. Do with that information what you will).

Anyway, I've done a lot of exactly what I wanted to do: ride my bike, read, talk to my friends, play my flute, and eat good food. I cleaned the kitchen this morning, and now it's time for me to straighten up the living room and vaccuum. I'm in the middle of laundry. One thing I haven't done, and I'm kind of proud of myself, is watch a bunch of TV.

I may or may not check in again before I go back to work, so adios for now!

Dream

You guys should all know by now about my involvement with City Garage Theatre. I'm not a performer there (well, sort of not... I was in two plays but that was a long time ago and I'm certainly not an actor), but I worked in the light and sound booth (and will again). It's funny, I had lunch with the director about a month ago, and we were talking to this woman she knows who owns a shop on Main Street in Santa Monica. FM introduced me to the woman as their "light and sound booth operator." The woman happens to have a daughter who does that for a living, and she asked me some technical questions that I don't even remember now but at the time I was all flustered.

I had to answer, "Frederique and Charles have cleverly worked it out so that my training makes me uniquely qualified to only work with them. I wouldn't know the first thing about any other light/sound booth." It was kind of funny because I answered her very properly (we'd all been sort of fooling around and talking casually, playing with the baby, laughing at the weird pig masks she had behind the counter. She was a nice lady). Everyone laughed.

Isn't that weird? Maybe I would know the first thing, but there I go again, not feeling very capable, kind of putting myself down. And, it can't be very hard and probably would be really interesting to learn how to really work a light/sound booth. I mean, as opposed to just hitting "go" and "play." Unless that really is all that's involved, in which case, I am a pro, but I kind of doubt it. I might ask Charles to teach me more next time, if there's time (there usually isn't time).

So, it's been awhile since that happened; I've been thinking about it off and on ever since.

But, that's not what this post is about.

Last night I had a dream that instead of building a super cushy new booth (ha ha) for me in the new space, Charles built me an... orchestra pit. And Frederique put me in charge of hiring an orchestra for the show they were doing (I don't know what the play was). It would be totally cool to have an orchestra and a pit in the new space, but a little... unrealistic.

I don't know who the other musicians were (random dream musicians, apparently) but I hired my friend, bassist Jeff Schwartz. The conductor was my flute teacher/flute choir leader Patty Sikorski. And me. I hired me, because I saw me in the pit with my flute.

I've been in pits with my flute as a semi-professional musician, and it's a lot of fun. I'm mostly fine with the fact that I never earned a college degree in music or worked more as a musician, but sometimes... once in a while... I wonder about it. I mean, then I remember that I'm pretty lazy, a terrible hustler, and not that interested in teaching, so I think ultimately not being a professional musician was a good choice, leaving me to love playing for the sheer joy of playing... right (even to me that sounds a little bullshit-ty)? Oh, well. Too late now, I guess. I should just think about my great pay, 4 day work week, retirement and benefits instead.

Anyway, back to my dream: there was a rehearsal in the pit, and then me and Jeff went for yogurt at some yogurt shop next to the theater afterwards. Is there at yogurt shop at Bergamot Station? There was in my dream. I've never eaten yogurt with Jeff Schwartz. I've never, I don't think, eaten anything with Jeff Schwartz. So I guess that's what dreams are, right?

Maybe next time I can dream about flying or Stewart Copeland, or flying with Stewart Copeland or something. No offense, Jeff, I'm sure getting yogurt with you would be awesome, but maybe I need to dream a little bigger. I mean, if we really wanted to, that's an event that could actually happen, right? No big deal.

So. Note to self: dream bigger.

100 Questions. Because you are a glutton for punishment, and because I am not prepared to write anything else today.

Taken from here. Not a blog I read on a regular basis, but she seems like fun, no?

Are you young at heart, or an old soul?
I am definitely young at heart. Foolishly young at heart. Do with that information what you will.

What makes someone a best friend?
They stick around.

What Christmas (or Hanukkah) present do you remember the most?
My blue and white bike. I think I was 8 or 9. It had a white banana seat with blue flowers on it, a white basket, tassles on the handlebars, and was just all kinds of awesome.

Tell me about a movie/song/tv show/play/book that has changed your life.
The World According to Garp, by John Irving. I read it way too young - I was maybe 12 or 13? Awesome book. Thank you John Irving! Now, I'm not enjoying his most recent book all that much, but I'm thinking one of us needs to try harder.

Name one physical feature that you like about yourself, and one you dislike.
My stomach. Obviously this is one that I dislike. Have you seen my stomach lately? No, and you won't see it, either. On top of having a baby, I just never had a great tummy; baby didn't help anything.

I like my mouth. And my beauty mark.

Would you like to reconnect with any friends you’ve lost contact with?
Some of them. Thanks to Facebook, I have a relationship with some people I'd like to know again, in a closer way, but time and distance keep that from happening. And there are some people who I've reconnected with in just the absolute perfect way. There are others who I think are better as fond (or not-so-fond) memories.

Name a movie that you knew would be terrible just from reading the title.
"What to Expect When You're Expecting;" any Adam Sandler or Will Ferrell movie; any movie with the word "Medea" in the title.

What holiday do you most look forward to?
Thanksgiving. Food paradise.

How is the relationship between you and your parents.
Fine. They are great grandparents.

You’ve got the TV on, but you’re not really watching.
This so rarely happens anymore. I love TV! If it's on, it means the baby is asleep and I'm into it!

What channel is the TV on?
Usually a cooking show, or Patrick is watching Pawn Stars. Occasionally we watch music concerts. And then we watch a lot of Sprouts. I suspect that Patrick has a crush on one of the cute young women who host those shows. Those chicks are hot; I suspect that's why they hire them. I'm sure the kids don't really notice but the daddies sure do!

Name a song that never fails to make you happy.
Just one? Silly you.

Mr. Blue Sky, by Electric Light Orchestra
My Sweet Lord, by George Harrison
New Toy, by Lene Lovich
Love is the Drug, by Roxy Music
Another Time, by Adrian Belew
Big Eyed Beans from Venus, by Captain Beefheart
Science Fiction, by Divinyls
Away, by Meat Puppets
Naive Melody by Talking Heads
Breathless, by X
Into Your Arms, by the Lemonheads

Almost any fIREHOSE song
Lots and lots of Radiohead songs

You know at least one person named Michael. Tell me about him.
He's a comedian, and a newly published author. We met at Rizzoli Bookstore in Santa Monica; he was a clerk, I was one of the managers. He's way smart, super funny, and he thinks I'm funny too. Thinks I can write! What can I say? Someone who is a comedian and who laughs at my lame jokes is a prince.

Have you ever read the “missed connections” on Craigslist? Have you ever posted one, or wanted to?
I read it once, a long time ago. It actually made me a little sad.

If you could pick anywhere to live the rest of your life, where would it be?
I like where I am, but it is a dream of mine to move back to Culver City. On the other hand, on a trip to Portland with Patrick, we kind of fell in love with one of the residential neighborhoods we explored (I can't remember what the area was called but it was near the Kennedy School). There might be better neighborhoods in Portland, but that one grabbed our imagination. I don't know if moving that far away would ever happen, though, or if I would really want to.

Can money buy happiness?
Probably not, but wouldn't it be fun to try to find out?
(everyone answers this one this way!)

Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not?
I drink a beer or two now and then. I like beer.
I quit smoking about 8 years ago. It was gross, and it will kill you. And as a flutist, what a dumb thing to do. Once in a great while I miss it. I liked having something to do with my hands, and I liked the way the paper smelled.
The only drugs I do are allergy medicine, Advil, and caffeine. I'm a new coffee drinker, and I'm in love with it. Milk and honey: perfection. I also love my Diet Cokes.

Is there anyone close to you that you know you can’t trust? You don’t have to give names.
Not anymore.

Where was your favorite place to go when you were a little kid?
My uncle Alfredo's house. He lived in a huge house that had all these interesting places to hide and play. Also, he was very creative and had lots of cool stuff (like found art that he would put together, or his girlfriend Helen's artwork). And my cousins were super cool and fun to visit, too. His girlfriend Helen's house in Santa Monica was awesome too: she was an artist, and her home was a converted church. Really neat, loving, exciting people.

Have you ever spent a night in the hospital?
When I had my baby, we spent two nights in the hospital. I didn't want to go home! The nurses were super sweet, and I loved being pampered. Then a couple of months later, I had to have surgery on my breast when I got a pretty bad infection/mastitis. I didn't technically spend the night there but I was there for what felt like a very long time.

Do you enjoy being with only one or two friends, or with a large group of people?
I am much better with one or two friends. I get a little overwhelmed in large groups of people.

Do you like the type of music your parents listen to? Do your parents like the type of music you listen to?
Not really! My mom listens mainly to Christian music, and Country. My dad likes Country too, but he also likes his "oldies", which I do enjoy. My mom always worried that the music I listened to would invite "satan" into my brain. Yes. That is a true statement.

Have you ever been bullied? Have you ever bullied anyone else?
Yeah, I've been bullied, but it's not worth talking about. I don't know if I was really a "bully." I was probably not very nice to some kids at certain points in my life.
If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
I don't think I could do that or would want to.

If your partner wanted to wait until marriage before having sex, would you stay in that relationship?
I'm going to not answer this one. I guess that sounds like my answer would be "no" but who knows? It's not an issue now.

Do you believe in a god?
I don't know. I think so. Here's what I do know, and I'm going to quote Bono: "The god I believe in isn't short of cash, mister." I don't believe in a god that requires funding, or would exclude anyone. I don't believe in the rules that people always get all caught up in. I'm still kind of working this one out. I don't believe that what I believe or what you believe is necessarily what everyone else should believe.

Of all the social networks in the world, why use twitter.
It's fun, once in awhile.

What’s your favorite hashtag to track?
Stewart Copeland, of course. Actually, I don't really track any hashtags. I don't have that kind of time.

Would you call yourself/your family “middle class?”
Now, sure. When I was growing up, no.

Name a TV series you didn’t enjoy until after it ended.
The West Wing. Beverly Hills, 90210.

Have you ever bought a product from an infomercial?
Not ordered from the TV, but I have bought stuff at the "as seen on TV" store. I like that citrus stuff for the laundry. Mostly, though, that stuff is crap.

If you could give up your car and never have to drive again, would you?
YES. If only the places I needed to go were bike-able, or if public transportation was easier to use!

If you go back to one point in time to give advice to yourself, when would you go and what would you say?
Probably my early 20s. Here's what I would say: There are things you want to do but you are afraid: go for it anyway. You have nothing to lose. Literally. You are braver and stronger and more capable than you think.

What’s your “quirkiest” habit?
I write letters in a public place (on a blog) to Stewart Copeland, and I address him as if he and I were actually friends. I like to pretend that I am friends with him! He has never responded. Poor me! I'll keep doing it anyway. Maybe one day he will!

What is “normal?” Are you normal?
I don't know what normal is. Yes. No.

Someone close to you is dying. You have the choice to let this person live for 10 more years, but if you do, you cause the death of 10 strangers. You don’t have to see them die. Do you take the offer?
I don't want to think about this. Sorry.

What is one thing you could never forgive?
I don't know. I tend to forgive everything. If I love you, I love you. And I have a terrible memory.
Forget I said that.

Would you rather be in a relationship after the honeymoon period ends, or be single?
Relationship. There are always things to work on.

Is it possible for guys and girls to be just friends?
Absolutely.

Where do you and your friends go to hang out?
We don't really hang out anymore. Life is not "Friends," or "Cheers."

Write the first sentence of your obituary.
Irene Palma, the youngest, prettiest, third wife of Stewart Copeland, was found dead today. She had a big smile on her face.

This is a joke. Because Fiona Copeland is gorgeous and could probably kick my ass? Yes.

What is the best TV theme song ever?
Ummmm... Alice? What was the name of the show that Valerie Bertinelli was on? I liked that one.

When you were young, what would you dream you would be when you grew up?
A mail carrier. True story.

When you’re alone in your own home, do you walk around naked?
Sure. Alone? I do it when Patrick is around too. What do I care? Nobody can see, and anyway, who else wants to look at me? My house has lots of windows but they mostly face the backyard. It's easy enough to do and we have plenty of privacy. I guess when JP gets older I'll have to cool it, though.

What gets you out of bed in the morning?
The alarm. The baby. The knowledge that I have to go out and earn a living.

Do you want to have more friends than you have right now?
I'd like more time to spend with the friends I have.

What part of the past year sticks out in your mind?
March 31, 2012. Private memory.

You win a scratch-off lottery game that gives you $2000 a week (after taxes) for the rest of your life. Do you keep your job?
Hell no. But wait, can I get another job, later? I would probably need to work again at some point, right? Part-time mail carrier sounds like the perfect job.

Could you be in a long-distance relationship? If you’re in one, what makes yours work?
I don't think so, but it's not really an issue, nor is it likely to ever be an issue.

What’s the best route to your heart?
A sense of humor. A willingness to share everything. Love.

Have you ever met someone through the internet, then met them in real life?
Nope.

What is your favorite sport?
I don't really have a favorite sport. I'm not all that interested in sports. I like to ride bikes but I'm not very knowledgeable about it or interested in it as "sport."

What has been troubling you lately?
Distance. Time travel. My right hip.

Did you enjoy your high school prom? If you haven’t gotten there yet, do you look forward to it? If you didn’t go, why not?
Not really. My prom was populated by the popular people, of which I was not one. Being around those people made me very uncomfortable. It would've been better if I'd felt my own value a little more as a teenager. It was fun to get all dressed up and to go with Adam, because being with Adam was almost always fun, but I was pretty miserable when forced to look beyond his face. We should've gone out somewhere else, instead.

What do you use more often: your intuition or logical reasoning?
Probably intuition. I'm not super logical. I'm totally ruled by my heart, actually. Well, maybe not totally, but enough.

Do you know what makes you happy?
Yes. No, I'm not going to tell you. Well, I will tell you one thing: my adorable, sweet, beautiful boy makes me very happy. There are other things but he's the best.

Tell me about the last book you read.
I finally finished "The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao," by Junot Diaz. I liked it a lot but it was very sad.

What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given?
Recently, a high school kid told me the other day that he really loved my flute playing. I liked what I had played, and I had tried to make it beautiful, so I was glad that he was moved to tell me that. Someone else once told me that they thought that I "don't take any shit." I liked that though I'm not sure it's true. Another person once told me that I had beautiful eyes, and while I also find that one hard to believe (because my eyes are crossed and weird), it was said in a totally believable way, in a totally romantic situation. I want to believe!
Who was your first crush?
I have had lots of crushes! I think the first one was Jeremy. Kindergarten.

Do you believe that there is life on other planets?
I don't know. It's fun to think about but I have no idea. I guess that's a no. Or maybe it's a yes.

Predict what your life will look like a year from now.
JP will hopefully be potty trained. Other than that, I have no idea. Chances are it will look a lot like it does right now. That's mostly OK.

Often, people will ask how your last relationship ended. I want to know how it began.
We met when I was a 16 or 17 year old page at the library. He was probably 21 or 22, way too old for me, a library assistant. He had a crush on me, which was intriguing, because that rarely happened, but he was toooooooo old, and I had a boyfriend. We were friends for a long time, and he was patient.

Where is your favorite place to go out and eat?
Fatburger. La Casita Mexicana. Enrique's.

What is something you want to change about your current situation?
I'd like to get more than 3, 4 hours of sleep at a time. I'd like more opportunites to play my flute, ride my bike, read, cook.

Early bird or night owl?
Unfortunately right now I am both. The kid keeps us up, and then wakes up bright and early, Mr. Happy.

Are there any childhood possessions you still hold on to?
I have my first Yamaha flute, which was actually my sister's. Hopefully one day JP would like to play it but it will require a bit of an overhaul before that's possible. I'm pretty good at giving up crap, though, so I don't have a lot of stuff.
Give me an unpopular opinion you have.
A lot of "alpha mom"-types are advising me that it's time to let JP "cry it out" so that he will sleep on his own. I totally do not believe in this. Neither does Patrick. Not going to happen.

What was the last song that was stuck in your head?
New Toy, by Lene Lovich! Oh ay oh! It's still in there!!!

Where do you live? Be as general or specific as you want.
In the smallest house on the nicest street we could afford. It's green, with a pretty Chinese magnolia tree in front.

Do you believe in giving kids medals and trophies for participation?
I don't know. I'll let you know as JP gets older and this starts happening. I think we got certificates and stuff for getting involved, but depending on the age of the kid, it seems like a medal or a trophy just for showing up is sending the wrong message.

What was the longest car ride you’ve ever taken?
Drew and I drove to Oregon once, in the snow. It was fun. A long, long time ago.

Have you ever taken part in a protest?
No.

Would you ever use an online dating service?
No.

What is your ethnic heritage?
Mexican-American. More American!

Describe a person that inspires you.
Excited by life. Open. Relaxed.

If you earn minimum wage doing what you love, would you?
If I only had myself to worry about, I might consider it. But as this is not the case, nor can it ever be again, no.

Do you believe in luck?
Sure.

Describe the last time you were very angry at someone.
I don't know if I can describe it. It's personal. It got worked out. I think I wasn't so much angry, as disappointed and sad.

Do you want to live until you’re 100?
I don't really want to consider that one day I will die. But...

Do people change? If so, how do you keep a relationship together when both of you start to change?
Yes, people change. You have to want it, and work on it.

Have you ever risked a friendship by telling someone you liked them?
Yes. Multiple times. It usually worked out one way or another.

Would you rather be alone doing something you enjoy, or doing something you don’t like with your best friends?
What a sad question. Right this second I'd rather be with my friends. I guess it depends on what the thing is.

Do you practice what you preach?
I try really hard. I suspect that as JP gets older this will be more important.

If you take precautions to stay safe, do you ultimately act more recklessly?
I can be reckless. Dude, reckless is fun. On the other hand, I absolutely refuse to jaywalk. Jaywalking is stupid.

What do you value more in a significant other: Attractiveness or intelligence?
If I love you, I love you. I think you're attractive based on that.

Are you hard-headed?
I don't think so. Maybe you should ask Patrick.

Have you ever laughed uncontrollably when it was socially inappropriate?
Yes. Uncontrollable laughing is so much fun. Except when it ends in pee.

When have you felt most alive?
I don't know... Maybe during the last solo I performed, which was in December 2010. I was 8-1/2 months pregnant. It wasn't the greatest performance (I made a big mistake; my breathing was wacky; and I was not as in tune as I thought it was); but, all that said: it was the most exciting, most emotional performance I've ever given. I may have been hormonal, but I really felt like I was giving it everything I could give. I can't listen to that solo without tearing up. I felt like I was really doing my best.

Would you prefer to live? A city? The suburbs? The countryside? The mountains?
I would love to find out if I prefer the city to the suburbs. I think I would but I don't know, as I've never lived in a city.

Do you often skip breakfast?
Breakfast lately has been a big cup of coffee and a cookie. Does that count as not skipping breakfast?

How do you know what true love is?
You know.

Would you want to know the exact date and time you were going to die?
It's enough to know that that day is going to come eventually. I'd rather not think about it.

Where is “home” for you?
My little green house.

What song best describes your life right now?
Another Time, by Adrian Belew. Just a gorgeous song.

Do you want to be perfect?
I realize that it's impossible. Doesn't stop me from thinking about it.

What have you never tried, but would really like to someday? What’s holding you back?
Oh, lots and lots of things. What holds me back is easy: fear.

How do you express your creativity?
Musically, writing. I'm not as good at those things as I wish I was, but I could never give either one of them up.

Describe your neighborhood.
Quiet. Safe.

Name something you only liked because it was popular.
This is a funny question. Um... fluorescent colored clothes. When was that? 6th grade?

Give me the story of your life in six words.
Who would have ever thought I could be a mom? Wait, is that ten words? Are you still there?

Meme - Rule of 7

I'm not feeling particularly creative today (my eyes are so red from allergies, I'm sure my co-workers think I've been stoned since Monday. Tom Petty on the iPod isn't helping. What this has to do with feeling creative, I do not know) but I wanted to blog today, so I ripped this off from here. Enjoy.

Seven things that scare me:

1. Spiders, slugs, snails, potato bugs
2. Alien invasion (spiders, slugs, snails, potato bugs...)
3. The ocean (namely, being blind like I am, and hit by a wave, dragged out to sea and drowning; also, creatures in the ocean that look like spiders, slugs, snails, potato bugs)
4. Some of the crazy music that Patrick makes and/or listens to; the artwork that accompanies some of the crazy music that Patrick makes and/or listens to
5. Falling from a great height
6. Speaking in front of large groups of people, particularly at work
7. The day that my laptop dies (it could be soon) and I lose my iTunes library (everything else is backed up on Dropbox). I have an external drive that I've backed up to but not recently. Yes, I need to do it. No, I don't have time right now.

Seven things I like:

1. Adrian Belew, the Talking Heads, Radiohead, X... music in general, these guys in particular right now, very much
2. The song "Bears" by Lyle Lovett (surprise! Betcha didn't see that one coming!)
3. Hugs and kisses, especially from my beautiful boy!
4. Long bike rides
5. Fitting into smaller jeans and pants for the first time in probably 10 years
6. Buying shoes (um... I LOVE buying shoes!)
7. Massages, facials, pedicures, lip gloss, eyebrow waxing: all these so-called "girlie" things that I never thought I would enjoy, but I do

Seven random facts about me:

1. I love the show "The Big Bang Theory" - I crack up, while Patrick sits there, totally unimpressed, wondering when "Pawn Stars" is on again
2. I have a little patch of freckles on my left shoulder, and a few on my face (with my complexion, that's a little unexpected). This was recently pointed out by my esthetician, who quickly said that they were "cute," and didn't look overtly "age-related." Um, thanks?
3. I love the swings at the park
4. I like to redesign parking lots in my head
5. I don't like strangers talking about Jesus to me
6. I'm better at relaxing than I thought I was
7. I've worked in the light/sound booth at City Garage more times than anyone, ever. Of this I am proud. Can you tell?

Seven things I want to do before I die:

2. Learn how to drive a motorcycle (is "drive" the right word? Obviously I have some lingo to learn too)
3. Take a bike tour of Europe
4. Sleep more than 2 hours in a row
5. Eat a meal, have a conversation with Stewart Copeland
6. Write a song
7. Remodel my house

Seven things I can do well:

1. Organize my desk
2. Make Ina Garten's Cranberry Conserve
3. Drive
4. Play the flute
5. Worry
6. Soothe my boy
7. Get lost in a book and/or music, sometimes at the same time

Seven things I can't do but wish I could:

2. Time travel
3. Write a story that other people would want to read (blogging doesn't count)
4. See without glasses
5. Apply makeup
6. Buy, wear jewelry
7. Sing

Seven phrases I'm known to use:

1. "Dear Stewart,"
2. (not a euphemism)
3. Then again...
4. On the other hand,
5. That's/you're awesome/rad/delicious
6. Fucking shit!
7. Holy cow!

Cool vimeo about City Garage

Watch first, then read.

Hey, guys,

Your donation will enable Charles to build me a totally rad new booth. I'm picturing a plush new stool, cup holder, crib for the baby...

Wait, what? My comfort is not the point of all this...?!

Seriously, any help at all would be greatly appreciated. City Garage does awesome work and deserves to thrive in 2012 and beyond. You should know that almost everyone involved with City Garage, myself included, donates their time. We don't get paid to do this: it's an act of love and we take pride in the work we do. That work has been honored and rewarded time and time again: clearly we're doing something right.

Thanks!

- Irene
 
http://www.citygarage.org/

What I had for lunch: Anoushka Shankar

On my way back from picking up lunch today (Subway, as usual, but with a twist: got the oven roasted chicken breast on flatbread with bacon and avocado; needless to say it was delicious. Thank you, bacon, I'm so glad you and I are friends again), I caught a story on KPCC's show "The World" about Anoushka Shankar and her new album, "Traveller." Yes, those double L's bug me but I'll get over it. I ended up sitting in the car listening to it after I got back to my office.

For those of you who don't know who she is, Anoushka Shankar is the daughter of Ravi Shankar, and a musician herself. I like Indian music but I know very little about it; I only know who she is because of my fondness for "Concert for George" (the Indian music portion makes me cry every time I watch it, also her duet with Jeff Lynne on "The Inner Light" is gorgeous). I've heard a little more of her dad's recordings (and once we saw him at Disney Hall, which would've been awesome, except I bought us seats in the "Orchestra View" section, which seemed like a great idea, right? Except those seats were murder on our backs and behinds.) She's beautiful and talented, and probably wouldn't be down with what I ate for lunch, and that's about all I can tell you.

Anyway, she has a new album coming out, and it marries traditional Indian music with modern flamenco music. In typical NPR fashion, the story caught me from the second it started (they played about 2 seconds worth of the music before the guy started talking - I was sort of daydreaming while listening to "The World," which I've stopped listening to on a regular basis because it seems to me, and yes, I know that I'm probably wrong, that the stories are all depressing, about rape or genocide, and I'm sorry, I like to be informed, I really do, but lunchtime is just not the moment for me, for those topics. That sentence, it lost its way... Anyway, I had it on because I have been listening too much to too many songs about love [current favorite, on repeat, "Another Time" by Adrian Belew], so I decided I'd better get some news in me. Instead I got this story, and I was glad.

The story was really interesting, mostly because they interviewed Anoushka and she talked about her music herself. She sounds incredibly knowledgeable, and I bet I'd be intimidated by her in person, but she also sounds like a natural teacher and boy does she love music. I like when you can hear that in a person's voice and by the things they say. I'm not the most intelligent talker (and possibly thinker) about music (this sentence and a few others in this post prove this) and I can't always say what I feel very well, but she can, and does.

(The World doesn't seem to have a link to this story yet on their website. I'll keep an eye out for it for you.)

My favorite part of the story was at the end, when she mentioned that both flamenco and Indian music have a strong connection to dancing. I knew that about flamenco, because I'm not (some of my writing to the contrary) an idiot, but I didn't know it about Indian music. They took the time to record dancers and included those sounds. I think that drummers in general and my husband in particular will really enjoy those parts, because the dancing sounds like a really fast double-bass drum - it has that rapid fire, machine gun quality that Patrick likes in music, and while I know that it's a dancer and not a machine gun, the juxtaposition with the totally awesome liquid-y music really got my attention.

They also played clips of her playing sitar with a pianist that is just jaw dropping gorgeous.

Anyway, go ahead and check it out when you get a chance. The album doesn't come out until the 19th (I think; I can't get the website to load all of a sudden, so I'll have to verify that for you later, too). I'm pretty sure I'll be getting it. For now I'm going to put on my earphones and listen to Concert for George.

Blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back

Holy cow.
This was one of the most stressful four day weekend I've had, ever. Neither Patrick nor I have been sleeping. Want to know why?

Exton is teething. This time around it seems to be much harder on him then when he got his first teeth (four on the top, two on the bottom). He gets very cranky, clingy, and wants to nurse constantly. I think the teeth coming in now are the bottom ones next to the two he already has, and the molars. That seems like a lot of teeth at once for a little guy like him, no?

Two words: human pacifier.
Two more words: That sucks.

It sucks for everybody. (Pun not intended. Mention the pun and you will get kicked.)

He also had a slight fever starting Saturday, and I was keeping an eye on it and giving him Tylenol. Fevers are even more fun these days because of what happened last time. Late last night a friend on Facebook recommended switching to Motrin, so we're going to try that today.

Surprisingly, he slept pretty well last night. I, however, did not. He went to sleep around 8:30, and I, in a desperate attempt to get. out. of. the. house, went for a walk. It was a really pretty night, and I needed some razors, so I walked down to Walgreen's. I've been shaving my legs with the same crappy dull razor for about 2 weeks. It's about a 15 minute walk to Walgreen's. On the way back I walked through the park, which was a little creepy and I probably won't do it again, not at 9:30 at night anyway. Using my iPhone map, I dropped a pin and emailed it to somebody, in case I didn't make it back. When I got home, Ex had woken up and was in the living room with Patrick, watching TV. I took him back to his room, nursed him (some more), and he was almost asleep... and then he got all fussy on me. Patrick took over and had him in his crib in 10 minutes. I honestly don't know how he does that.

Then we talked for a few minutes about how fucking tired we are, brushed our teeth and got ready for bed. A wise friend to whom I was complaining about my lack of sleep reminded me (in a well-timed email) to take things one day at a time. This friend is both smarter and better looking than I am, so I tend to listen when they speak. You know, I know being attractive isn't supposed to matter, but I'm just going to spit it out: sometimes it does. Especially when it comes to childcare and parenting.

(I'm laughing right now but maybe you can't tell that I'm being silly. Still: my friend is pretty cute.)

Patrick went to snore/sleep on the couch and I got in bed, where I slept from about 10:30 until 12:30, when I woke up from the Bookstore Dream (Variation 102).

(Bookstore Dream: I'm working in a bookstore with my buddy Bo, with whom I worked in real life at Rizzoli. Each bookstore dream is a little different but that part is always the same. This one involved a creepy mansion type place, a guy having a stroke and then miraculously recovering while in the arms of my friend Bo, and me finding a huge wad of cash and checks from 2004. Drama!)

I don't know how I got dressed or showered or helped Patrick with Exton this morning. Apparently I drove here without killing anybody. Everything is making me giggle: the guitar in the second bar of "Smells Like Teen Spirit," the fact that my co-worker and I couldn't remember what day it was even though there's a big ass calendar less than 2 feet away from us, the fact that I have a meeting with my boss and her boss this afternoon at 1:30 and can't leave early. Some of these things really aren't that funny.

The good news is, I emailed my big Excel project to the person I needed to email it to (a day early). The bad news is, it's not perfect even though I might've sold it that way to my boss. Look, it's a shitty assignment. Maybe nobody will notice. Right?

Oh, and so what's up with that title up there? Those words came to me while parking my car. It's kind of how my brain feels, if it had eyes and hands. I'm moving slowly; I feel almost drunk. Have you ever used your nose to type on your iPhone? It works, you know. Try it.

and no, it has nothing to do with 50 Shades of Gray. Gross.

Parenting lesson no. 1: You can only make one change at a time

I don't profess to be an expert on anything (though I do have strong opinions. Opinions are fun, because you don't have to prove anything).

It has always been my way to express doubt about my abilities and knowledge. This may be a character flaw, but whatever. I'd almost always rather double-check the facts than definitively state something for the record (the other day I told someone that Dave Grohl wasn't playing drums on Nirvana's album "Nevermind." I remembered it wrong: Chad Channing and Dale Crover shared drum duties on the first Nirvana album, "Bleach," but that's totally Dave on "Nevermind," aside from a few cymbal crashes. My bad. However, it is my opinion that Dale Crover kicks Dave Grohl's ass). I also realize that other people almost always figure shit out before I do. Still, if life is a learning process (is it?), just like everyone else, I will grow at my own pace, and if I keep an open mind, I will reach the level of enlightenment or whatever you call it that's right for me. Something like that.

What do I know, it sounds good.

Anyway, so I am approaching parenting in this same, "I don't know what I'm doing but this seems to be working for now" style. And reading lots of books and online stuff and consulting with my friends. Really, parenting a 15 month old is pretty easy. He doesn't have any discipline problems, he's clearly going to be a musical genius, and he's lately been trying to put his socks on by himself  - both on his own feet, and mine. Come on. What's cuter than a little tiny boy trying to put his miniature socks on his mommy's big old foot? That has to be a sign of something awesome, right? Maybe he'll be a doctor! A podiatrist! Maybe he'll sell shoes! Maybe he'll design shoes!

So let me get to the point of this post, which is, I have figured out that you can only make one change at a time. You're saying "duh." I see you, I can hear you saying "duh." Fine. You're smarter than me, which we knew already.

Actually, it took me about a week to realize that I was even trying to make too many changes at once, which, you know, self-awareness is a good thing but not necessarily a strong point (fine: you should know that I also suck at math. And geography. Look, playing the flute is pretty much the only thing I'm really good at, let's just get that out there, and even then, when I don't practice I also suck at that. And lately, practicing the flute hasn't exactly been a priority). This is an incredibly sloppy sentence and/or paragraph but I'm not going to fix it. I'm just saying that I didn't even realize that I was trying to do too many changes at one time!

Three weeks ago I stopped pumping at work. Or maybe it was two weeks ago; I'm also not good at dates. Freeing up all that break time has been awesome - I've been walking a lot, and I really enjoy that (add to the list: I'm not a fast walker so I have to go with someone who is, or else my walks are incredibly leisurely). So: there has been practically no more milk during the day for the little guy. He adjusted to that pretty well, surprisingly.

Then, we started trying to get him to sleep in his crib again. He'd been doing it for a few hours for awhile but in February, he'd started having trouble with it, so we started taking him to our bed when he woke up around 2:30 a.m. I would nurse him back to sleep, and in our bed he would stay.

Then, I started trying to curb the night nursing. It was just getting to be too much for me. I am not one of those mommies who can sleep while their baby nurses. How do they do that? So, he would wake up, and I would wake Patrick up to take over, and try to go back to sleep. Patrick sleeps OK with JP on his chest but lately JP hasn't been comfortable there, either. Instead of being an easy way to soothe him back to sleep, he would stay up, apparently wide-eyed. Patrick would bring him back to me, and he would fall back asleep nursing.

The night nursing has been kicking my butt. I haven't been sleeping very well. Not sleeping very well makes me crazy - I get all emotional, grumpy, irrational. Not sleeping well for like 15 months in a row amplifies all of that. It's bad, man. My decision making skills have suffered. My personal interactions with people have suffered. I'm all my usual doubt and insecurities, times 10. Maybe times a hundred: you tell me. I think this post is an excellent illustration. Or I would be up and happy, and then down and slightly insane. Mood swings are no fun for anybody.

And then I even started wondering if all I knew how to do as a parent was breastfeed. Crying baby? Feed him. Sleepy baby? Feed him. Cranky baby? Feed him. I saw Patrick picking up the slack and (it felt like) being a better parent, and that made me... sad. I know that I can do (and I do do!) more than that, but on Tuesday night, I kind of lost it. I felt like my role as a mother is changing, and I'm not as prepared for it, for any of this, as I thought I was. And I'm so much older than a lot of my friends were when they had to do all this for the first time. Now there they are, with their 7 year olds, their 13 year olds, and they know everything. And I'm still figuring out the toddler stuff! Or, I should say, not figuring it out. I felt really lame.

I felt like the nursing stuff, which may or may not be coming to an end, which has defined my life for all this time, that connection, that job that I had to do whether I felt like it or not, was a bigger deal, emotionally, to me than I thought. I thought I was ready to chuck it, to say to my sweet little boy, "Okay, buddy, it's cow's milk for you! You can handle it!" But I'm not ready. I mean, on the one hand, I really want to be done with it. But what does that say about me? On the other hand... it's what we do! It's our little thing. What will replace it? I have to figure that out. And all of this, all of that, felt very overwhelming to me on Tuesday night.

Anyway, we will figure it out. I mean, he won't be a baby/toddler forever. And eventually I will figure it out. Hopefully before he starts wanting the keys to the car.

Cymbal, meet hanger.
Hanger, it was nice knowing you.

Draw Something - EDITED FOR STUPIDITY

I've been playing "Draw Something" with my friends for a couple of weeks now, and it's made me question what I thought was a long-held truth about myself:

I am not very creative. Or artistic.

My friends take the challenges in Draw Something and create these masterful drawings that use light and shadow and texture and using their little index fingers, they make things that look like what they're supposed to look like. My finger must be defective, because I just am not that good.

No matter what the thing is that I'm supposed to draw is, I almost always draw it in relation to a person. Locket? I draw a woman wearing a locket. Claw? I draw someone with a "normal" hand, then draw someone with a "creepy" hand. (My friend Will, who is an actual artist, took the time, while drawing his own word, to demonstrate what a "claw" should look like. "Claw" is now a code word for us. I think it means "fuck!" My best drawing, which was supposed to be of the word "badge," was a portrait of my friend Will dressed in his Crown Books apron [he was a clerk in Malibu with me when I worked there as an Assistant Manager], wearing a badge that said "Will." He didn't guess the word, even with three of his friends helping him. Perhaps that trip down memory lane could've been illustrated better. Note what I said above about my drawing skills.)

A couple of days ago I chose to draw the concept of "nirvana."

Hmmm. How should I do it, I thought?

This is how I did it:

Not an albino.

I have to say, I was pretty proud of myself. Luckily my friend Jeanne got it... but I don't think my drawing helped her, because she was all "what was that?" Still. I loved my creation! And I decided to save it to my iPhone, and share it with you, now, here.

And for the record, no, I didn't look it up first. This is from memory, yo.

For those of you unfamiliar with this album (yeah, right), here's the real thing.

This kid's name is Spencer Elden.
Also not an albino.

My adventure with LensCrafters, plus Bonus

I started writing this story out with paragraphs and parenthetical comments, and even I got bored. So here are the (mostly) salient facts:

1. I got my glasses adjusted on Saturday at LensCrafters at the Fox Hills Mall (AKA "Westfield Shopping Center Culver City." Yeah: no). Apparently, during the adjustment, one of my lenses got damaged. Gotye and Def Leppard were the surprising soundtrack to this part of my adventure.
2. Sunday, I went back and was all, "hello, my lens is damaged." They were understanding but told me I would have to go to the LensCrafters where I purchased my glasses.
3. Sunday and Monday, I worried about replacing my lens. My prescription is strong: I am blind. My lenses are expensive. I just bought these glasses in January, and they are just barely out of warranty.
4. After work on Monday, I went home to nurse my boy, who promptly fell asleep. Then I went to the Lakewood Mall (somebody told me this is the oldest mall in California, but I think that somebody was mistaken) LensCrafters, which was really really busy. Generally this kind of craziness in a store makes me totally batty, but they handled it well: they were polite and good about acknowledging my presence, so I waited patiently. I know. It's hard to believe.
5. Finally the store manager, a pretty Asian woman (I have to get her name! She is only identified by a number on my receipt), came over to see me, and she examined my glasses. It didn't take her long to diagnose "crazing," probably caused by the heat of the adjustment. She accepted responsibility, and wrote up an order for new lenses, and would charge me... nothing. I practically jumped up and down (well: on the inside).
6. Afterwards, in celebration, I went to the Gap, where I purchased two pairs of size 8 pants. They were also playing Gotye. What are the chances? I haven't been a size 8 in about... forever. I know there are people out there reading this to whom a size 8 is no big stinking deal, but to my fat ass, size 8 is pretty damn awesome. Also, the salesguy helping me was really nice. I didn't get his name, either, but he was very helpful. Also, nobody else was in the store. He tried to convince me that I'm not too fat/old for the Always Skinny (or whatever they're called) style of jeans, but I just laughed and stuck with my straight pair. Size 8, man! Sweet.

Pump free, and other business

I'm not sure how much I've said here up until now... I haven't been keeping a good blog, I guess, because I think of a lot of things to write about but then I just don't, or I don't remember. Oops! There are a few things to catch you up on!

Over the last couple of weeks, I've been ramping down (is that a phrase? I know you can ramp something up...) my pumping sessions at work. I went from 3 a day (for over a year), to 2, to 1... and this week? I'm at none. I was all excited when I walked out of the house this morning without my pump (and on Friday, when I washed all the pump parts and got them ready to be finally put away, probably forever), but then I walked past the lactation room on my way to the restroom, and I totally started to cry.

What the hell was that all about? I know that the timing is right, I know that my milk will not necessarily just "dry up," I know that I can continue to breastfeed at night and on the weekends and that lots of people do that just fine and that I can probably still meet my self-imposed 2 year goal, I know that I am a good mother, and that lots of people don't make it this long (not to make it sound like I think that people who don't breastfeed or pump at work are not good mothers! Not at all!)... but wow, it hit me surprisingly hard. I can tell this is going to be a long day. I didn't want to cry every time I passed by the restroom. Because that would be weird.

And then... I didn't write about this when it happened because I was freaked out about it for a long time. Only a couple of people know about it, actually. This is a long story, so I suggest you get comfortable.

On Thursday, May 3rd, I got home from flute choir a little later than usual. Patrick was in Jules' room, sitting in the chair, holding him. We just started this month getting him to sleep all night (or as much as possible) in his crib, but Patrick likes to hold him and rock him to sleep when I'm not home. I rushed in to take over: this quarter for flute choir, I haven't been able to leave work early so on Thursdays, I'm back to going to Culver City straight from work. It's a long day, and I miss my boy. When I picked him up, I could feel that he was really hot, so I removed the blanket Patrick had him snuggled up in, and sat down to feed him.

He was still pretty hot, so I took his temperature: 101.5. I took off his clothes and fed him in his diaper only. We gave him a little Tylenol, but it was late, I was tired, and I couldn't remember if I should give him one dropper-ful, or if he had graduated to 2, so I just gave him 1. Then he fell back asleep and we took him to bed with us. I checked his temperature every hour or so and it went down a little. It was 100.5, 100.3 at various times during the night, and I thought, well, that's high, but not super high... I didn't sleep that much.

At 2 he woke up, and I fed him again. His temp was still around 100. Patrick took him to the other room to rock him to sleep, and so I could get some sleep, too.

At 4, Patrick came back into the bedroom, and woke me up. He said that Jules was "staring" and he couldn't snap him out of it. I woke up right away, and said, "What do you mean, staring?" He was holding him and I could see that he was just sort of blankly staring, eyes wide, body kind of limp. He was still hot, at about 100.5. Patrick said he'd been like that for about 5 minutes. He sounded scared. Jules was also kind of breathing funny - I don't really know how to describe it. It was like a tiny hiccup.

I didn't know what to do, so I got a damp washcloth and wiped his face. I took off his little t-shirt. I held him myself. About 30 seconds or maybe a minute passed of us watching him, and then I said, "I think this is a seizure. I'm calling 911."

We didn't discuss it: I made the decision.

The 911 operator was awesome. She told me lay him down, and stop holding him. I put him on the couch, and in a few minutes, I felt him relax a little, and then he woke up, rolled over onto his tummy with his butt in the air, and he fell asleep. The paramedics got to our house in about 6 minutes. By now Jules was sleeping normally, and seemed comfy as can be on the couch. They checked him out and said that everything seemed to be fine. They asked if we wanted to go to the hospital, and I said no. He had an appointment with his pediatrician at 9:15 for his 15 month checkup - by this point, that was only 5 hours away. We gave him some more Tylenol and took him back to bed with us. Patrick seemed to fall asleep, but I didn't, not for a while.

At 6:30, Jules woke me up as usual, by climbing all over me. He was perfectly normal, his usual happy self in the morning, laughing and playing. Patrick was getting ready for work. We were both exhausted. I fed him, and we got up to eat some breakfast and get ready for the doctor. He was a little whinier than usual but he didn't have much of a fever (about 99), and I let him pretty much do whatever he wanted: play, eat, whatever. By 8:30 we left for Kaiser.

Once there, I told the nurse all about our night; I thought that might get the doctor in to see us quicker, but it didn't, really. Once she finally came to see us and I told her my story, she was great. I didn't cry when it was happening but after she told me that these types of seizures are mostly harmless and very common, I kind of lost it. She was so nice, and told me that though in the future, we will have to be very careful when he gets a fever, most likely he will suffer no consequences. We did all the right things, and obviously he was fine now. She said that he was developing great, and was clearly a healthy, happy boy. And I cried through all of this. She instructed me to continue giving him Tylenol every 4 hours for 2 days (2 droppers!), and to keep an eye on his temperature. If he still had a fever on Monday, I was to call right away. She said she saw no signs of any infection or other problems. I wondered if maybe he was teething, but she wasn't sure.

I didn't want my parents to worry, and I had a date with some friends that night (my sister was going to babysit), so I decided to keep my plans. I felt a little weird about it... Patrick's band had a gig that night and I hate to be home all day and night by myself, so I told my mom that Jules was a little sick, and headed up to Culver City anyway. He seemed to enjoy his visit, and when my sister got home, I told her what had happened. The timing was perfect: I gave him his Tylenol before I had to leave to meet my friends. I checked in with her while I was gone, and she said he was acting as he always does: playing with her and my parents, having a fun night. He was just a little hotter than usual.

It was good for me to go out, and I think too, that letting my sister take care of him that night was a good idea. He has so much fun with her.

We kept up all the Tylenol, and he was a pretty good sport about taking it. By 7 p.m. on Saturday night, he was totally fever free.

It's been a couple of weeks since then, and we're not exactly sure what caused the fever. I don't see any new teeth... and he's been fine. I check his temperature all the time, though.

Weaning from the Pump: Week 2

As of today, I have been back at work for exactly one year. Exton is 15-1/2 months old.

This is mostly what I'm thinking about today:
LLLI | Weaning from the Pump

As of two weeks ago, I was still pumping three times a day (my work day is 10 hours, and I'm away from home for a full 12... it's a long time to be gone). Last week, I cut down to 2. This week I'm cutting it down to once a day. Yesterday I came in to work late (the exciting weekend cut into my sleep) so I didn't take a break in the morning, but today I'm looking forward to taking a walk at 10. I hope the sun comes out.

A lot of people have indicated that they weaned from the pump and it in no way had a bad effect on their milk supply or their nursing relationship with their child. I hope it's the same for me! I also hope it doesn't mean Ex ups his night nursing again... I was just starting to get used to getting a little more sleep.

Checking in

The weekend was a big combination of highs and lows, none of which I'd like to describe, right here or right now. The one thing I will say is that JP had a pretty high fever and there was some scary stuff involved but now he's just fine, and I guess all I can do is chalk it up to a learning experience.

We went to Fatburger, and I had my usual Fatburger with cheese, relish, pickles, lettuce... and then I added a fried egg, and I will tell you that it was quite possibly the most decadent thing I've eaten in weeks. It was also delicious. Surprisingly, Patrick was pleased with his veggie burger (he never likes veggie burgers). And, JP loves French fries. Oops.

I had time for only one bike ride on Sunday, and though it was a beautiful day, it was so windy! But, almost everyone I saw smiled or waved at me, and one guy called me "baby" (as in "on your left, baby!"). I have to admit: I thought that was pretty cool.

Good news: this morning, every single pair of pants I own was too big.
Bad news: I really can't afford to replace all my pants right now.


I've been pretty swamped at work lately, and it's continuing into this week unfortunately, but I hope to get on top of everything by the end of the week. I have a couple deadlines coming up, one for a project I'm managing but not actively doing the work on, and another project that starts whether I'm ready or not. My part will be figuring out how to keep our employees informed and interested. Another project involves reviewing driver records of about 1,000 employees. I now know the California Vehicle Code numbers for a variety of offenses. Let's just say I'm not the only one around here to get a "cell phone" ticket. I'm no longer embarrassed by my stupidity; instead, I belong to club of wrong doers, and I have to admit: I think that's kind of cool, too.
 
(This is a joke. Sheesh.)
 
Right now I'm taking a break from doing my "How Am I Driving" related paperwork. I just processed one for an employee whose first name is Terence. I am truly a child of the 80s, because this quote instantly came to my mind.
 
"Name's Terence. Owns a pet shop. We'll see what happens."
- Iona, from Pretty in Pink
 
Remember Terence? How he asked Andie to tell Iona to "shake her tail feather"? and the awesome white suit Iona wore for her date with him? Annie Potts is a gorgeous woman, but what's up with the pearl bolero tie?

Don't you wish Iona was telling Andie:
"Andie, honey: lace is not your friend."

 
 

Changes

I don't know how to start this one other than by jumping right in, so here goes:

Since last week, my milk production at work has been waaaaay down. Since I came back to work, almost a year ago, I've pumped 3 times a day. I've gotten anywhere from 12-16 ounces a day (total). Yesterday, though I still pumped 3 times, I only got 5 ounces.

This scared the hell out of me.

This is the milk that JP needs to take to daycare, to drink when he's with his daddy, when I'm at flute choir.

Yesterday, I talked to my friend Teresa, who has a lot of knowledge about this topic (she works with nursing moms, and she also has an adorable 10 month old, and a teenager; she has experience!), and she helped me calm down.

I know that JP is getting older, and eating more "real food," and that just because I stop pumping during the day, that doesn't mean I will stop nursing him when I'm home. For some reason, though, I felt weird about it. I'm glad I talked to her because she reminded me that it's totally normal. So, over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to taper off at work.

On the one hand... my little man is growing up, and that makes me feel sad. I learned so much from that little baby, about my body, my abilities, and about him as an infant. Now that he's getting older I know I will learn even more.

On the other hand, I was so sick of pumping! It used up my breaks; when I went to training or meetings, I had to make sure there was a lactation room. I'll get to go for walks again, or take a nap in my car: these are good things. And I won't miss having to wash everything every night to make sure I have bottles and parts for the next day.

I called his daycare this morning and talked to the director. She's so nice - they take such good care of him there. They're going to start him out slowly, and I think today he's going to try drinking what the other kids are drinking (milk, I mean; they've been giving him a little juice and water for a few months). I hope he doesn't mind it.

Me + Glee = Confusion

I haven't watched Glee in a while (maybe since the first season) because I got too annoyed with those kids and that stupid teacher and his weird tiny girlfriend with the food issues, but yesterday, my friend Kate on Facebook (she lives in Arizona and so gets to watch everything like an hour before the rest of us) who is also my friend Adam's mother, posted that this week's episode was a tribute to Whitney Houston, and that she liked it.

Since this is the woman who, when I was in the 12th grade, unwittingly introduced me to my favorite book ever ("A Prayer for Owen Meany," which I found in her bathroom, and no, you weren't home at the time Kate, but that was a very long time ago, so please forgive me for losing your page; also, I am re-reading "Owen" [again] and my copy is currently in the bathroom: how's that for full circle, or something), I thought, "Okay, if Kate liked it, maybe I'll see what those Glee kids are up to with the Whitney Houston," and since JP hasn't been going to bed until 9, I watched about the first 20 minutes of it.

Now I have questions.

A) Where was the kid in the wheelchair?
B) What the hell happened to Quinn? Is she now the "kid in the wheelchair"?
C) Where did the dreadlock kid come from? I think that guy went to high school with me. Also... and I know this is mean, but that kid is weird looking. He was weird looking in 1990 and he's weird looking now. Sorry! But I don't see the appeal.
D) How come Finn isn't playing the drums anymore?
E) When did Kurt get so grown up and handsome!?

and the MOST important question of all:

F) WHAT THE FUCK, AUTOTUNE? I was really disappointed with how mechanical the kids' voices sounded. And you know what? It didn't make any of them sound good. Can't these people sing? (I don't think I can keep calling them "kids" because aren't some of them in their late 20s?) No seriously, I thought these people were good singers to begin with, so why treat them like... untalented people? I didn't get it, I don't get it, I don't want to get it.

In other news, I was going to try to take JP with me to a La Leche League meeting tonight (I've been wanting to go but we were sick for the last two months, in case you don't remember, and I didn't want to expose a bunch of nursing moms with their little babies to THE COUGH), but then I saw that the kids (actual kids) on American Idol are doing all Queen songs tonight, and now my interest is peaked. I'm sure some of them will ruin those classic songs but I have an undeniable urge to see Phillip Phillips sing "Another One Bites the Dust" or "Don't Stop Me Now" or the totally ridiculous "Radio Ga Ga." And if nobody sings "Who Wants To Live Forever," I will give you a dollar!

My name is Irene. (Public Practice)

Hey, they told us to "dress casual."

Saturday, I did my one hour of "Public Practice" at the Music Center. It was fun, and truly a real practice session for me (I know it was "real" because by the time I'd been playing for 54 minutes, I got bored. I know, I know, I'm a horrible person. Look, sometimes I really get into it. Sometimes I don't).

My brother and his partner Joe accompanied me and Exton, and that part was awesome. I picked them up, and since I've never been to their house in Los Feliz (Silverlake? I always get confused), I was a little nervous about finding it. In fact, I've done very little driving in that area, so it was kind of exciting for me to be making that big crazy right turn from Sunset onto Fountain (also, my stupid driving directions had me make a left off of Rampart onto Sunset! Talk about exciting!). But, the drive down there was fun; Ex stayed awake most of the time, and at one point while we were cruising along, listening to "Stairway to Heaven" on the radio, I swear he was singing along with me.

Because I had no idea how long it would take me to get there to pick them up and then get us back to the Music Center, I kind of overestimated. We were about an hour early. We took the baby in the stroller over to the Cathedral, and poked around there. We took Exton out to the courtyard, where I nursed him a little (fully covered; Dan and Joe wandered off while this was happening, and no one was around). He's really cutting his nursing sessions short (I think he's starting to wean? More on this later), so it wasn't a big deal. Then we took him over to the little garden area with the sculptures. Ex loved the big sheep, and got in the whale with my brother Dan. After awhile, we walked back to the check in booth at the Music Center for the Private Practice participants.

Exton: "Woof?"
Dog: [Nothing]

Anyone else reminded of that 80s song

"Belly of the Whale"?

Unfortunately I can't remember the names of all the people I encountered with Public Practice (only Richard, the guy who moved me midway through my session to another location. He was cool), but they were all super nice, and it was a fun experience. It was kind of noisy - there was a lot of street traffic (i.e., buses), and for some reason a lot of helicopters, but the echo I got off the side of the building was nice for my sound. I started out on what I think is the south side of the Ahmanson (on Grand).

I did my scales, and the loop pattern, but decided against doing too many long tones. I got out the Faure Fantasie for flute and piano. I played this in high school, which was sort of going against the rules of "playing something new." All week whenever I got a chance, I looked through my music collection for something new to try out there, and I just couldn't find anything I wanted to play. I even sat down with my big book of Bach sonatas (of which I've played... two), but all that did was convince me that I am right not to like playing Bach. So instead, being pretty rusty on this one, I decided to just go with it. The Faure is so pretty, and I can count a lot better now than I did in high school, so I think it was OK. As usual, when I am under practiced, I encountered the same issue I always encounter, which is that my fingers are just not up to speed. That was kind of a bummer, and I spent a lot of time working on that - the music has lots of passages where there's high F#'s to Gs, and that's mostly the problem area. It's fun, too, to replay measures over and over, to hear them getting better, or faster, or whatever you're looking to improve.

Dan, Joe, and Ex hung out on some benches in front of me, and they had a good time, I think. Ex is eating a lot more solids now, and so he had a turkey sandwich and half a peanut butter and jelly wrap that I brought for him. I think Dan and Joe got a kick out of playing with him. He's a great baby, really fun. He seemed to like my playing, and they walked him around to see what else was going on.

At 7, Richard came to help me move to another space just on the other side of the building (the Hope St. side). By this time there were a lot of people walking around getting dinner, there to see "American Idiot" and whatever else was happening at the Music Center. No one really stopped and listened to me, but that's fine, I think it would've embarrassed me. I was "only" practicing. At around 7, it was starting to get cold, and there was a street musician, a sax player (I don't think he was there for Public Practice!) pretty near to me, and he was a little loud... it was hard to concentrate. He was also pretty darn good, so I felt weird.

I got a cool sign to take home (I think I'll put it in my cubicle at work), and overall, it was a fun experience. I'd do it again.  

Afterwards, I filled out a little questionnaire, got a refund for my parking fees (sweet!), and took Dan, Joe and Ex to Brite Spot for dinner, where I had a pretty awesome steak ciabatta sandwich. Ex loved the restaurant, and bounced around to all the 80s hits (he likes the Cars, the Go-Gos, early Madonna, and Tommy Tutone as much as I do) that were playing on the stereo. He tried to talk to the group of people at the table behind us, but they ignored him. He wouldn't eat any of my sandwich, but he did enjoy the fruit cup I got instead of fries (he's really into cantaloupe and honeydew melon right now; also the blueberries). I took Dan and Joe home (Ex was out like a light practically before we even left the restaurant parking lot), got great directions from Joe for catching the freeway, and we were home by 10:00.

Feeding the baby in the Cathedral courtyard, getting ready to head back over to the Music Center.

Found it. Super early so we're checking out the Cathedral. Beautiful.

Looking for checkin area!

I'm taking a Faure Fantasy I last played in high school.

On my way to pick up my brother who is coming with me to Public Practice at the Music Center

Bike 2.0

If you've been coming here for awhile to read about my not very exciting life (thank you, thank you, thank you) you know that in 2009 or so I got all excited about getting a good bike. At the time, I bought a Specialized road bike, and it was pretty awesome, but, it turned out, too much bike for little ol' me.

I didn't get to ride it a lot (though I did go on some awesomely long rides with my friend Patty, most of which culminated at the Cheesecake Factory) and I wasn't super fast or anything, but I got in a few of my favorite things (night rides), and I got some use out of it. One thing that I learned from that red and black bike was that the best motivator is a fun, safe bike. And I just never felt that safe on it. I think, though the bike store dudes tried to tell me otherwise, that it was just a hair too big for me.

Anyway, as you all know, then I got pregnant, and then I had a baby, and I started thinking that that bike was just not mommy or kid friendly enough... so a couple of months ago, I placed an ad on Craigslist, and I sold it. It was pretty easy to see it go, so that's how I knew I had made a good decision.

Last week I replaced it.

My friend Kim recently bought a bike, and she told me about the deal she got on a "dent and scratch" model, so I headed to the bike store with my money in my hand, looking for a way to get everything I wanted (bike and bike trailer for Exton) for just $800. I thought it was pretty good timing that the bike store was having a sale, but it turned out that I got a better bike than the one I went in for, and got a great deal on both the slightly dented bike (it has one tiny dent in the frame that no one will notice) and brand new Burley Bee bike trailer. OK, so I spent a little more than $800, but that's with tax and a helmet for Exton thrown in, too. I was really, really happy with my purchase.

Here it is:

Pre-ride inspection. "You want me to GET IN there?"

I got a Trek FX 7.5 WSD. It's white, with light green lettering, which is a little more girlie than I would like (blue or gray would be my first color choices)... but the price was right, so I can be girlie. It's fun to ride, lightweight, easy to handle, and I feel like a million bucks on it. The trailer is cool, too - it adds some weight but that's fine, as the purpose of being on the bike is to get stronger and fitter. Exton is not so sure about it just yet but hopefully we will figure out a way to get him comfy in there. So far we've mostly gone on short rides (and he did fall asleep during one, which I call a success) but he seems to get a little scared, and he doesn't like the helmet very much yet. So we've been keeping his rides short. He loves to be dragged around the backyard in it, and bounced around, but he gets a little panicky on the street. Since I want this to be a good experience for him, I'm trying to get him used to it slowly.

On Tuesday we stayed home from work to take him to a library thing in the morning; Patrick stayed home with him for his afternoon nap so I could go for a longer ride on the riverbed by myself. I rode out about 6 miles on the riverbed, and turned around (so my ride was just about 12 miles. Math-y!). The San Gabriel Riverbed is really beautiful, with lots of things to look at (and the water isn't fluorescent green or orange or frothy, like it was when I was growing up in Culver City and would ride along La Ballona Creek to the beach or school), including El Dorado Park (where I took a little break). As I said on Facebook during my break, I was never very fast and I'm still not. I passed one guy, a heavyset guy on a single-speed cruiser wearing what looked like a 50 pound backpack. That said, I SMOKED him. I'm sure he's still reeling from eating my dust.

The bike needs a few accessories (kickstand, at Patrick's request; water bottle; computer so I know how far/fast/slow I'm going; headlight so I can go on my beloved night rides) but I'll get those eventually. I'd like a shorter pair of bike pants/shorts. I have a great pair of padded Shebeest capris but it would be great to get a little color on my legs this summer! I found a great skort online at REI but I'm not sure about the length. I never show my legs, and it's a little shorter than I'm used to. And, I think I'd maybe like some kind of "performance" t-shirt, though I sure don't need anything fancy like a jersey specifically made by cyclists. Just something to wick the perspiration away better than my ratty old Police t-shirt.

When I got home, Ex was napping with Patrick, so I hopped in the shower and washed away all the sweat, and got ready to be a mommy again. It's funny how a little thing like a bike ride can make you feel like you again.

Public Practice at the Music Center

A while ago, I received an invitation in the mail to participate in something called "Public Practice" downtown at the Music Center (outside, somewhere). It's supposed to be an opportunity for the public to see amateur musicians practicing - to appreciate the hard work those of us who don't get paid to perform do, out of love of playing (or whatever).
I signed up because it sounded cool by answering all these intrusive questions and I was accepted.

So to be clear: this is going to be me and a bunch of other people, practicing outside, somewhere on the music center grounds, in public.

Practicing.

It's not a gig, or a performance. People won't walk by and hear me performing some amazing Mozart that's obviously been worked up (as if I have time to do that!). I'm supposed to either just play scales or what have you, or pick a new piece to work on. It's only for an hour, and you'd be surprised how much practice time can be eaten up "just" by scales and long tones, so I'm probably going to devote a lot of my time to that. Also, my lack of practice shows the most in tone and fingers, so this is a good opportunity to do that. But it's not going to be exciting to listen to (unless you really want to hear me sitting on each note forever, in which case, you are the audience I want to have. Always!). I might pull out something new (Bach, maybe, there are ton of Bach sonatas that I am unfortunately unfamiliar with, and he's really hard).

My brother is going to come with me and wrangle Exton while I'm playing. Hopefully he enjoys hearing a bunch of weirdos practicing, too.

I don't know how many people are participating or how close to one another we will be, or (of course) the skill level of the other players, so this could either be really cool, or really excruciating.

I'm allowed to invite family and friends, so here's the info, below. You must be warned, however, and I can't stress enough, that this is strictly practice. I'll hopefully be able to hear myself play and evaluate my tone (during long tones), and I hopefully won't get all nervous and jack up the loop pattern or whatever scale exercise I'm doing. My practicing isn't always pretty (though I almost always through in the first five bars of the theme from "The A-Team" for fun while warming up). My practicing isn't that sophisticated either. Still. I think it will be a fun experience for me, and for anyone who wants to hear other people... practice.

Public Practice
Noon on Saturday, April 21 to noon on Sunday, April 22
My time slot: April 21, 6:30 p.m. -7:30 p.m.

I have no idea where I'm going to be, and I'm supposed to pack up about halfway through and go to another location, so good luck finding me, if you're coming for me specifically (thank you if you're even considering doing this). If you're not, I might try live tweeting it, if I have time to do that, or will of course just write about it after the fact. Oh, yes, of course you have that to look forward to!

Dear Co-Workers,

I can't promise anything, but you may see and/or hear me throw up today. It's embarrassing but, to quote a friend of mine who uses this phrase for just about anything, it is what it is. My apologies. I'm considering this my punishment for making fun of some of you for your crummy email signatures, your inability to cut a straight line, or just complaining about your loud phone calls with various collection agencies.

Very truly yours,
Irene

((Cough))

For the last two weeks, I've been walking around with this dumb cough. I used to get it every year, but when I was pregnant, apparently I was overwhelmingly healthy, because I didn't get sick that much. This year, the year after having my son, seems to be the year where my body is making up for lost time, because I've been sick more, had some age-related issues I never had before, and I've just felt funkier than usual.

Not this funky, though. Unfortunately.

Anyway, because I'm still breastfeeding the little guy, it limits my options. For instance, that cough medicine with codeine that I've been dreaming of? I can't take it.

The worst part isn't really the cough. I could handle coughing every once in awhile. But what happens to me is, I get hit with these horrible extended coughing fits that usually culminate with puking.

Yes. I said "puking." It's gross. And then afterwards I feel like I've been run over by a truck. So that's been going on, daily. Luckily when it happens at work, I've had opportunities to get to the bathroom. What I've been afraid of - it happening while I'm driving the car - hasn't happened. What I didn't know to be afraid of happened yesterday.

I haven't been sleeping that great. Mostly I lay there, wondering if I'm going to fall asleep, just to be awakened by my own coughing. Or what usually happens, it takes me awhile to fall asleep, and then just as I'm dozing off, Exton wakes up and wants a feeding. And then I cough.

So I finally got so frustrated that I stayed home from work yesterday, and I made an appointment with the doctor. The appointment was for the late morning, and while I was at home, I actually thought I was starting to feel better. Hardly any coughing. I got a late start leaving and I considered calling them and canceling the appointment, but I didn't.

On the walk up to the office, I started coughing a little. I got in line to check in, and saw that there was a a "self check-in" kiosk, so I thought that would be faster, so I tried it. But, my Kaiser card didn't work and I had to tap out my name, and while that was going on, my coughing escalated. I couldn't talk. It was really scary, actually, because I felt like all the people in the waiting room were watching/listening to me. A woman was sitting at a desk (separate from the check in desk) right in front of me, and I croaked out, in between coughs, "can I sit?" She had a chair next to her desk, facing away from the room. I sat down and coughed. And coughed.

And coughed.

And then I puked. All over my shirt, and my jeans, and I was so embarrassed. I haven't thrown up in public in years (and I was probably drunk and in my 20s when that happened so what did I care?), and I just felt so gross and dirty.

The woman at the desk was so nice. She helped me clean up. I kept apologizing in my tiny voice, and she kept telling me it was OK. She even said, "This is a medical facility. I've seen much worse." It was weird, though, because my shirt just looked wet, not, puked on (but the inside was... messy). Then she offered to check me in, and she found out that my appointment was next door, which I was actually relieved about. I really wanted to get away from that roomful of people.

I walked around the corner to the right room, where I saw a woman who is not my regular doctor (which is good, because my regular doctor is a man). She took me right away, which is good too, because as soon as I was alone in the room with her, I lost it. I just started crying. I mean, damn, it was just some vomit, no big deal, but I was sooooo embarrassed. She was also really nice (though, it must be said: not as nice as cute Dr. Reid would've been, I'm sure; then again, I don't think I want to see him while wearing a puked-on shirt). It was a good day for Kaiser doctors.

Anyway, she took her time with me and checked me out, and I'm fine. She recommended that I keep using my nasal spray allergy medicine (which I lost somewhere, somehow... I have to take a better look for it), and she gave me an inhaler to use when the coughing gets really bad. She said it will probably be a little longer until the cough is gone but because I'm breastfeeding, it's harder to treat. She said I didn't have any kind of infection. Just a cough.

Cough.

Which Led Zeppelin song is that from? In My Time of Dying? Gonna go have a listen. You should too.

((Cough))