Circle of Life

Sometimes I perform such an impeccable parallel parking job, it's actually breathtaking. Like, it's not just a skill, it's a talent, and to witness it would be a standout moment in one's life. It's in a pretty tight spot with almost no room for error (as if I needed it). My motions are swift and exact.  It's flawless and dare I say spectacular, and so much so, that I want to exclaim to any around me, "did you see that?? did you see what I just did? That deserves applause, people! I...am amazing!!"  

And then, after my moment of relish, I try to get out of the car with my seat belt still on.

Jen's Birthday Wish

In completely out-of-left-field news, my birthday is this week. Saturday, to be exact.  Birthday Week is well underway but more on that later.

In December I went to see The Hobbit with my family. On the walk through the hallways and corridors to the theater, i came face-to-face with a movie poster that, for the second time in my life, would change my life.  It was this:

It's back. In 3D.  Celebrating 20 years.  Excited/scared about the possibilities of the 3-dimensional dinosaurs, mostly I'm just beyond psyched to get to see this movie in the theaters again.   So I vowed in that December moment to see this for my birthday.  And I will. A month ago I sent out a Save The Date evite to everyone I could think of, inviting them to see the movie with me on Saturday.  If you didn't get it, YOU ARE INVITED.  Make no mistake. Because nothing would make me happier than to share this experience with the entire human race, but primarily, my friends and people i actually know and care about.  If you live around here, I'm seeing it 4/27 at 7:45 at the Court Street theater in B-town.  Come at 7:00 for some JP trivia. If you don't live here, I invite you to go see it at a theater near you, in honor of a girl whose psyche is riddled with Jurassic Park, it's kind of scary, and also in honor of the dinosaurs.    This, friends, is my birthday wish.

p.s. Jen & Jurassic Park: A Brief Blog History

Thirteen was a very pivotal year for me. 

Jurassic Park is a big part of who I am today.

I love the music. And sounds. It continues to come up at random moments in my life.

It soothes me when I'm ailing. 

As mentioned, it's settled deep into my subconscious, there to stay.
(And here, just because it makes me laugh)

Sad Things

It's fun to read about happy things and to look on the bright side or appreciate simple pleasures in our lives, but I also think it's alright to recognize the sad things.  Not with the intent to dwell or wallow, perhaps, but to allow them their moment.  So, to go along with the happy things, here's a list of things that are making me sad these days. Because if you're a human, you know that happy and sad can be experienced right along with one another.

1. To be trivial, I'm sick. I have a cold.  It's not a bad one and I am very functional, but it's been a long time-- I made it through this entire outrageously long winter without getting sick. Not once, I don't think-- and right now I'm being reminded why nobody likes to be sick. I especially find it unpleasant in the spring on a nice day with the blossoms blooming and birds chirping. I can't really enjoy any of it. I feel like I'm in a cloud and that reminds me of Claritin commercials, which reminds me of allergies and I feel sympathy for those who suffer from them. Sorry, friends. I really am.  

2. I'm sad that Justin Bieber has gone all Zack Attack on us.  Observe:

As you'll recall, Zack Attack is a band comprised of our favorite gang from Saved By The Bell, Slater, Kelly, Lisa, and Screech. Their hit is a single called Friends Forever.  All is going well until Zack's mind is poisoned by an evil agent by the name of... what? Anyone? anyone?  No, seriously. I can't find it anywhere and it's killing me. HOW DO I NOT KNOW?  Anyway, she convinces him he's better than them, that they're holding him back and he could go SO FAR as a solo artist.  He is persuaded and, well, nothing good happens. He turns into a sparkly open-shirted super star with a crazy stuck up hair and has completely forgotten who he is and what matter most, his friends who were all, luckily, quite musical.  Anyway, I feel like the exact same thing is happening to Bieber.  He was so adorable when he first started. I mean, his hair? C'mon.  Loved it. And he knew who he was and he was just pure.  Everything changed when he cut his hair. I hated his new cut the first moment I saw it and knew that ultimately, it would lead him to his downfall. Or at least nowhere good. Because now he's getting all tatt'ed out and is cussing and taking "selfies" (i'm using so many words in this post that i never have before in my life) and is getting into all sorts of trouble.  And I'm convinced it's because of his hair. He got Zack Attack hair!  Go back, Justin... go back.  

3. Dear Boston.

:(

I've expressed my love before.     Monday a friend who was running in the marathon put up a Facebook status saying something like, "Finished the race. We're fine and back at the hotel. Thoughts and prayers for those still out there"  and, having heard nothing, I was reading this purely in the context of a marathon. Now I imagine marathons are intense. As someone who goes into cardiac arrest just from running for the bus, I just don't think i could quite hack it as a marathoner, you might say.  But my reaction was like, geez, what's going on over there?? what kind of race is this?  I almost made a comment trying to be funny but thought better of it and investigated.  SURREAL.  Isn't it so strange when horrible things happen? the moment the facts start rolling in and the events unravel, the process of making sense of it all?  I read a bit and thought, surely it's not that big of deal. Even though I'm pretty sure I understand bombs = BAD.  It's just so jarring and it takes a while to accept that this is actually happening, that I have a personal friend who plain outran the thing, and when I texted to her, "well than your training REALLY paid off" she replied "Amen to that!"    She said it happened when she and her family were on the way back to the hotel. I also have friends who live nearby.  My nerves are a bit wracked.

Anyway, I won't go into the horribleness of it but I feel a serious pang in my heart for all of the runners who are amazing already, and for our beloved nearby pal Boston, and for lost lives and those affected. Because things like this just shouldn't be.  I saw a quote someone had put up and a sign that said NY *hearts*  B, and i said, "yes... yes we do."  Blugh.
 

But, to cheer us up, I checked out Zack Morris's wikipedia page which you really should visit.  Here's a favorite blurb under the heading "Extracurricular Activities":

Zack was also very musically talented. He was the lead singer and lead guitar player for a band called Zack Attack (in a dream). The other members were Kelly (vocals), Lisa (bass guitar), Slater (drums), and Screech (Keyboard). While this band never achieved the success that it did in Zack's dreams, it was good enough to get paid to play at local events. Zack Attack, however, offered to play for free at a school dance so that more money could be spent on decorations. This line-up featured Zack on vocals and guitar, Jessie on vocals, Lisa on bass guitar, Screech on keyboard, and Slater on drums. However, when Slater had to take over the lead vocals during the dance because Zack was outside talking to Kelly, when they broke up Ollie (a minor character on Saved by the Bell) took over on drums. Zack was also the lead singer of a 1950s-style doo-wop group, The Five Aces (a reference to the real-life group The Four Aces), that sang during a school sock hop. The other singers were Slater, Screech, Lisa, and Tori Scott (a student who transferred to Bayside during senior year). He was also a member of the glee club for a short time. He could also play the trombone.

 Isn't it amazing?  Who wrote this? So dang funny. I always loved that aspect of SBTB, how everyone was involved in EVERY activity, EVER club, took EVERY class together.  I'd really love a breakdown of all the skills and abilities each student had.

For example, and off the top of my head:

Jessie
Student Body President
member of the glee club
played the flute
participated in oil-drilling protests
was a cheerleader
on the volleyball team
on the swimteam
in the school play (remember that scandalous kiss between her and zack?)
in a dance group (by the name of Hot Sundae)

And that's all i can think of for now.  Feel free to add to.

So that's my sad list right now. At least we ended on a happy note.   SBTB will do that.

Gift Ideas

So, for no particular reason I thought I'd give you a list of possible gift ideas. You know, just in case you're looking for something awesome to give to someone who, say, has a birthday coming up.  It could be anyone: A family member, a friend, a friend whose blog you read and you keep asking yourself what you could do to say thanks. Anyone! 

1. Ant Farm.

Wouldn't that be so much fun?? The perfect indoor pet!  Until someone breaks it and you have ants crawling freely around your house. But i have that anyway, so i might as well give them a home to dig around in.   But hold on, what's this? A fluorescent glowy ant farm?? Oooooooo!

Space ants. It just keeps getting cooler. Also, those ants look huge.

2.  Harem pants. Not harm pants, like i first typed. I personally happen to love all things harem (< -- not something i ever thought i'd say), just in case anyone was wondering.

3. Nice pillows.

Don't underestimate the awesomeness of a gift a nice set of pillows can be.  Does your vague friend suffer from chronic neck pain? Do they punch the pillows and curse the heavens all night long? Do they set up a futile tower of pillows called Mount St. Pillows  just to get some kind of support?  You may want to invest in some nice pillows for them. I mean, if you ask me, best gift ever.

4. The complete set of Calvin & Hobbes comic books.

 I mean, just speaking from my own experience, I used to read these when I was a kid and loved them to death. Man, there was nothing better than getting my hands on a new book and finding a secret spot. I read a lot more comics back then when I had the newspaper in my home and siblings around me to care about such things, and thus I am not privy to the current comic books trends but Bill Waterson continues to be the best cartoonist who ever lived, in my opinion. Also love Gary Larson.  But I love Bill. So danged smart. So danged funny. And talented. And I hear he's a serious introvert which pleases me. Anyway,  I know that if I had these, I would totally read them out on a blanket in the sun, just as I did in my youth.

5. A snow cone machine.

It just sounds so fun to me.  I had a Snoopy snow cone-maker in my possession a few years ago and like a fool I gave it away. One of those "clean everything out no matter what it is" phases.  But really I'll take any novelty machinery.  My niece got a cotton candy machine(? I think?) for Christmas and I won't say I wasn't jealous because I was. I was jealous.

6. Would also take a fondue pot.  This is the kind of thing that i wonder if most people wouldn't use that often, but I would.  I would.  I feel like I'm dipping stuff in chocolate every other day.  (oh bugger that pics don't show up in posts pre-2010. :( )

 

7. And on that note, I love baking pan molds. How much happier would the world be if I was making everyone miniature bundt cakes? I mean, if the recipient of your gift was...

8. Anything from this place.

Anyway, so just a few suggestions! I'm always here to help. Good luck on your search for an amazing gift and if you need even more suggestions, I have plenty. Just ask.

Thinger

Thinger really needed his own post. He's one of the family; why not?  As mentioned, Julian is Julian but sometimes he is also Thinger.  Thinger has a high-pitched voice and likes to chime in now and then offering his opinion or asking for another book or making a bad choice that warrants a reprimand, etc.  Sometimes he will talk to me out of the blue and I will ask Julian who's talking (because I often get Thinger confused with Blankie, and others) and Julian will clarify.

 But we hear from him often throughout the day.  I wrote the following blip in his baby book and I just thought I'd include it here. It's kind of a gem:

****

So Julian, you have a special friend these days.  He might even be your BEST friend, for now.  He at least will always be a part of you, no matter what.  He is...  your finger.  He has his own little [high-pitched] voice and you've named him.  Ready?  It's...  Thinger.  

I love this SO MUCH, i cannot even tell you.  It's just better than anything in my wildest dreams.

The bonus, the icing on that little cake is how, whenever you wash your hands, Thinger cries out in his little voice, "Oww! I got soap in my eyes!" or, "I don't want to take a shower..."


And i pause in that moment, stare reflectively and think, my life could not possibly be better.

The Fighter

I began to ask myself a Would You Rather question: Would you rather be a clumsy, insensitive oaf that always steps on people's feet -OR- a meek geek that always gets their glasses broken by bullies?

And I answer: Well, I feel that I identify with the meek geek... but that's where it ends.  I do not let bullies break my glasses.

As far as I can remember, it all started back in 7th grade. His name was... let's call him Jack. I can't remember his name. Jack was a bully. He was a slight scrawny kid with dark hair and a dark smoldering chip on his shoulder.  I didn't know him at all, but he made a name for himself in the way of shouting at kids, teachers, and generally getting himself into trouble. I have the feeling he was just a scared kid crying out for help. But I was 12 and not equipped or desirous to address these issues.   We were on the bus on a field trip of sorts.  He sat in front of me.  He would turn around and say harassing and derogatory things to me.  I can't remember what it was but something triggered my hand to rise forth and smack him across the face.  He was stunned, and at a loss for words. I don't think he thought of me in any specific way other than Girl Sitting Behind Him, and someone to harass, but he didn't have anything more to say.

Fast forward to 8th grade, when this same kid was up to his old antics.  I think it's so odd that this was how Jack and I interacted.  We never talked; it wasn't like i was bullied--he didn't single me out at all. These episodes happened a year apart, and were singular.  But there we were, our paths crossing yet again, and he chose some select words to say to me as I passed by.  There again came the hand--WHAP! I smacked him in the back of the head.  This time he shoved me. I shoved back. Some more shoving, until I pushed him into the lockers. He fell, and I walked away.   I don't be bullied. 

The next year after that brought the 9th Grade Bully, one much larger in stature with a huge voice and general disrespect. The kind teachers are scared of. Our whole school was crammed into the satellite buildings, as they were building a new school for us, and were late at it.  So the traffic between classes was a slow, cramped crawl.  We all chatted with our friends and made our way the best we could, but there was this underlying pressure simmering that we knew, with one false move, could quickly create an explosion.  We were squeezing through the doorway and this guy took his great big massive arms and with the giant wingspan of a human albatross, chose to push everyone in front of him to move them along. I can't remember all the details but I know that something in me went off and I hurled back into him.  He may have retaliated. I may have fallen down, even.  I may have gotten back up and kicked his shin. Details are sketchy. It didn't turn into anything, but I don't be bullied. And also, you don't bully. This one wasn't aimed at me personally but again, someone had to do something and I took a sort of vigilantous stance against him.

I think there was one more incident with this guy. It was in history class and we were sitting in chairs without desks. I was in front of him and he had his hands on a broom or something and was jabbing people with it through the hole in the backs of their plastic school chairs.  I got jabbed and I took the stick and shoved it back at him. He stopped, but this may be because the teacher got after him.

Now, I suppose I should have used my words rather than retaliate physically. But have you heard my voice? It's like a feather's whisper. I've tried over the years to have a more loud commanding voice but it is what it is. And combine that with Jr. High years and I'm just not sure it would have been effective. But, who knows.  

Rewind a couple of years. It is very likely i already talked about this on my blog (chances are good I am going to be recycling a lot of stuff) but I can't find it so I'll tell it again.  I must have been 11 or so and for Halloween I went as a watermelon slice. This costume was incredible.  Dowels in front of and behind my head to give the watermelon some structure and decent breadth. Arm holes on the sides. Leg holes at the bottom. It was adorable, and if I turned my body to the side, someone risked getting seriously hurt, which I'm not sure is a bonus but perhaps it was this night, for it would be the night that someone tried and failed to steal my Halloween candy.   We were at the doorstep of a house and I saw an un-costumed teenage boy lurking in my periphery.  I didn't think much of it but when he suddenly lunged forward, swiped my candy and bolted, I didn't miss a beat and I instantly sprang into the chase.  Despite my costume--or perhaps because of? Super Watermelon!-- I dove in the air and tackled this punk. The bag was dropped and I retrieved it and the empty-handed thief ran away.  Nobody steals my candy. Nobody. But even then, I had a feeling in my gut that it wasn't just for me.  I just hate bullies. I hate people taking advantage of others. And I wanted to teach these kids that you do NOT do this. Someone is going to fight back. And today, that someone is going to be me. Watermelon me.

Fast forward to around 2005-06'ish in Brooklyn. Sean and I had been married for 3 years.   This story is sort of silly and slightly embarrassing but it was kind of a big deal to me at the time and continues to stand out in my memory, so I'll tell it anyway. It was a Saturday and Sean and I were doing laundry which means we were making trips to and fro the laundromat across the street. On the corner there was a pack of kids, probably in their late teens, early 20's, just standing around and up to no good. I walked by a couple of times and received a few choice words and the burner ignited and i began to simmer. I walked back to the house and received a few more words and the simmer turned into a boil. I told myself, if they do it again when i'm coming back, it is GO TIME.  It's not that I confronted every person who did similar things, but this was on the corner by my house. I would walk by here every day. This was NOT ok. Something had to be done.

I had grabbed the laundry cart and passed the same crowd and again, received some words.  I parked it and turned on the leader of the pack and with a finger in his face I said, "NO. You do NOT talk to me that way."   Surprised and amused, he challenged me, "why not??"  with his cronies laughing behind him.  I explained, "because it's offensive and makes me uncomfortable."  Maybe he just didn't know?  And he tried to explain to me that it wasn't offensive.  Yeah, alright.

There was one girl in his pack and I singled her out, "let me ask you--do you enjoy comments like this? Because i'm betting you don't."  And her gaze averted to the ground and she shuffled her feet as she quietly muttered, "they're just joking around."  I'm not sure but I feel like I could sense some shame in there that she was participating in this and perhaps also not speaking up, and I suddenly felt extremely sad for her.   And I'm also not sure these guys had anyone teach them how to treat women or received any lessons of having a general respect for others.  So we're in the midst of a small debate when Sean crosses the street from the laundromat to find his wife lecturing a crowd of about 9 miscreants.  He calmly asks what's going on and one guy gets in his face and says, "Oh, are you going to do something? Who are you??"  I'm sure there was some racial heat in this retort but it was quickly quelled when Sean replied, "that is my wife."  Anyway, it didn't turn into much. These people were misguided idiots with nothing to do. Thought I didn't get the feeling that we quite saw eye-to-eye, and probably didn't on a lot of things, I did feel like we had reached a degree of understanding, by the end. I told them to knock it off and as we finished our business, turned the corner and walked away, I burst into tears.

Living here has made me steely. I've developed a much thicker skin than from before. But there has always been something in me that will not get pushed around.  So no.  I may be a meek geek--that is fine with me-- but you will NOT break my glasses. At least, not without a fight.

Post-Easter Post

A happy Easter to one and all.

How was yours? Mine was fine. Does anyone else feel a little bit ripped off when it's a March Easter? March, February's ugly and vindictive twin, doesn't seem worthy of Easter.  But whatever, we make do.

Here are some pictures. OnyourmarkgetsetGO:

First, the Easter outfit.  Someone asked me if we got clothes for one another as a family Easter thing and I said, "no... well, i might get something for myself and call it an Easter _____."   And i don't necessarily make it a point to dress Julian in Easter garb unless it's this gem, but then I thought, he needs new clothes, why not?

Julian has mastered the Smoldering Easter look.  Work it, buddy.

 

BAM

 

Handsome little Easter Grump.   I'm pretty sure on my sad days, you'll find me kneeling on the floor of his room, just holding those yellow pants and feeling better by the minute.


And the hunt:

And the world's teeniest Easter basket:

Hey, it fit a jelly bean or two.

And yes, we eat our Easter candy in the nude. Doesn't everyone?

And the Big Basket.  Thanks again, Jacques. See ya next year, pal.

On Saturday we meandered through a farmers market and picked up some coconut macaroons. p.s. is it macarons or macaroons, and why?  Anyway, I ate one or seven and remembered how much I frigging looove macaro(o)ns and wondered how easy would they be to make?  So i looked it up and turns out, VERY.  And i had the ingredients on hand which is nothing short of miraculous.  So we whipped up some little macaro(o)n nests with a solitary egg. Mini-dinosaur eggs, probably.  And while they were delicious and adorable and so so easy, I still can't help but vomit in my mouth a bit when I see a bunch of eggs together, resembling a word I can't even type because it still repulses me to my very core.

But once I get over it, mmm, delicious:

So on the same day we bought some Easter clothes, we checked out the shoes.  Here is Julian trying on some amazing shoes.   NO, they aren't girl shoes. Why would you even say that?

Alright, fine. Yes, they are girl shoes. But look at them!

a) they make my life infinitely more happy, b) I'm rabid with jealousy that they aren't mine and c) H&M girl stuff is so much better than boy.  Plus, Julian is totally metro. He can rock it.

And rock them he will because get them we did.

Lastly, here is probably my favorite thing about Easter 2013.  We bought this poor sucker at the farmer's market as well:

Devouring him during our Easter feast unintentionally yet delightfully turned into some kind of morbid ritual.  I laid him on the bread board and we bore into the sacrificial bread bunny/teddy. bready?

 

With jam, anyone? 

Happy Easter!