Alice's Adventures Underground

Right Wright

Posted on 4/06/2009 08:13:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

I have a long standing obsession with Frank Lloyd Wright and his work... and not just because I grew up in the shadow of one of his workshops. His designs speak to me and the experience of being inside one of his buildings is like no other. There's not another architect I know of where I can feel his mark on the place just through the physical act of walking through the door. Looking at photographs doesn't do him justice... you have to experience a Frank Lloyd Wright building to know what I'm talking about.

(click on the photos to embiggen - some day I'll get a blog platform that allows for a decent size viewing of a photograph... but not today)

I once heard one of my favorite singers, Tony Bennett, sing in a Frank Lloyd Wright-designed concert hall. Somewhere in the middle of the show, he paused, looked out around him at the hall and said, "Woo! Frank Lloyd Wright... he really got it RIGHT, didn't he?" Sure it was corny... but then to demonstrate the acoustics of the hall, Tony had the entire band turn off all their electronics and he sang a song a capella in that great big hall. You could hear him as clearly in the last seat of the upper balcony as you could if you'd been standing on the stage next to him.

Wright's life was an interesting mix of hubris and tragedy which makes him fascinating and complicated as a person. You never know whether to love him, hate him, feel sorry for him or admire him... and consequently, I do all those. As his career started to take off, Wright began "signing" all of his buildings with these red tiles. He called the color Cherokee Red (although I've seen many shades of this color and they all tend to be called the same thing) and it was arguably his favorite color (not a soda) meant to harmonize the natural colors of both brick and wood. He kind of became a rock star in the architectural world and is the only person I know of who signed his buildings, although, I'm sure that others have followed suit since then.

I have to admit, the Guggenheim Museum is not one of my favorites. I know some people think it's the pinnacle of modern art; personally, I've never really responded to the outside of it like I have other Wright buildings. But I did want to see it just the same so we decided to make a quick stop there on our way to one of the many fine eating establishments we patronized. Unlike D.C. (and one of the reasons I love D.C.), museums in New York are not free. You have to pay a tidy sum to go look at the art and when you do that, you tend to feel you need to stay there all day to make your visit worth the admission price. In D.C., I will go in a museum to look at one painting I've been hankering to see, then turn around and leave. Not so, when you have to pay an arm and a leg to see the same painting. You have to amortize the cost of admission over hundreds of works and that tends to kill the day. We did not have the day - we did not have twenty minutes - and while one day I'd really like to comb every one of the hallways in the Guggenheim, my big investment this time was in seeing the building. So I hung out in the lobby, looking pretentious and trying to take artsy photos while my traveling companions looked at postcards of the artwork in the gift shop. We're nothing if not frugal.

Outside, it looks like all the photos you've seen, it's modern and different, but maybe because it's modern and different it's a little bit unremarkable. Then you walk through the door, he explodes the box once again, and it's that same old hero worship:

I really need to find a better lens for my camera or bring a tripod with me everywhere I go because most of the pictures I took came out too blurry to use for anything but proof that I'd been there. I'm irked by that fact, but I guess it just gives me an excuse to go back to New York sooner.

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Once Burnt, Lesson Learnt

Posted on 4/05/2009 06:31:00 AM - by NG

I've been asked by several people what we've learned from The Incident a few weeks back. What nugget of knowledge would I impart to people who wanted to make their homes and belongings a little bit safer? Whenever I get that question, I always reply with "Where do you want me to start?"

There are so many things I have to say on the matter that people start rolling their eyes when I respond. I'm sure you will too, so feel free to skip over what promises to be a very long post if you're into denial that the world is a horrible, mean place and the only philosophy of life you can deal with is: fire bad, tree pretty. For the more persistent among you, you can read the whole thing. Otherwise just skip down and click on the links... they never steer you wrong.

I think that now, after a month of dealing with banks, insurance companies, police and a veritable plethora of other people who seem to have some stake in my financial dealings with the world, I do have a few items that I would do differently if I could go back in time. And because I'm cool like dat, I will now share them with you. I have to say up front though, that none of the things I'm about to write would have kept my house from being burglarized if someone really, really, wanted to get in. Most would just have made it more of a nuisance for the burglars and made my life easier afterward. Most dishonest people are basically opportunists - they aren't going to go to a whole lot of trouble to take your crappy stuff. We're basically working class folks, so it's not like the dudes from The Italian Job are trying to steal my twenty-five inch television that weighs more than seventy-five pounds. My philosophy is if you make it too much trouble, the thieves will move onto someone else because whatever they're going to steal from me is probably only going to buy them a couple of nice meals.

The first thing that I realized I had done that was really smart, was at some point in the past, I had taken all the credit cards out of my wallet and xeroxed them. This helped me remember exactly what cards I needed to cancel and in quick order. Within an hour from getting home that night, I had every credit card that I could remember cancelled before any fraudulent charges were made. The thing that I had not been so smart about was that I hadn't kept that up to date and the list wasn't complete. So, three days later when I remembered a gas card that was stuck back in the back of my wallet that I never used and hadn't copied, I made a frantic dash for the phone and found that my friendly neighborhood burglar had been able to fill up his gas tank at least once. Fortunately, however, the company did not hold me responsible for that charge.

Get a police report number. I cannot count how many times I had to provide this information to someone. I seriously doubt that anyone, anywhere, looked it up to make sure it was genuine, but any time someone acted even remotely annoyed at what I was asking them to do in the wake of a burglary, I whipped out the "I have a police report number, would you like it?" no one even questioned me. I probably could have just made up the number.

We got an alarm system for the house about a year ago and I have been religiously setting it every time I leave the house. The alarm company gave us these key fobs that you could use once outside the house to set the alarm with a single touch of a button and not entering a code. The problem that morning was not that I forgot to set the alarm, but that I apparently didn't push the button hard enough or long enough or whatever. The alarm never got armed that morning. When I am outside the house with the door closed, as you need to be, I cannot hear the beeping confirmation inside the house that the alarm is set. We think the same culprit has attempted to break on to several neighbos' homes and because I've heard their experiences, I'm confident that if the alarm has gone off when they kicked in the door like it was supposed to, the burglars would have simply run off. It also occurred to me later that if my purse and keys were ever stolen, the thief would have my drivers license (which had my address on it), a key to my house, AND the key fob to turn off the alarm without entering a code. We've since put those key fobs away in the safe and only set the alarm using the code on the keypad.

I changed every password on every online account I ever had. Ones that I used to make purchases and/or had financial information first, but also any others I could think of. It would have been much easier to do this had I kept a list of them... but I tend to only use ones that I use regularly, so it was pretty easy to get through them all.

Since some financial information was on one of the computers that was taken, I went to the three major credit reporting agencies and put a fraud alert on our social security numbers to avoid identity theft. Now if anyone tries to open a new account or get a loan using our social security numbers, we will get a phone call to verify. I highly doubt that whoever has my computer is savvy enough to find that information on it, but better safe than sorry. This also forced me for the first time in years to look at my credit score... not as bad as I would have thought.

We replaced all the locks on all the doors in the house. Probably not because we had to. We don't think any keys were stolen and the lock on the basement door that was kicked in was usable. But we'd had that same key for years and weren't completely sure we still even had all the original keys. So we went to Lowes and spent about $60 on new knobs and deadbolts for each door in the house. The insurance agent actually questioned this and asked why we were asking for reimbursement for locks on four doors when only one was damaged."You could have just had a locksmith come out, after all." I explained, "Look, if you don't want to pay for that expense I get it, but even if we were sure that no keys were stolen, it was still cheaper to replace the locks on four doors ourselves than have a locksmith come out to re-key the one door that was damaged." She couldn't argue with that logic.

I did not know this before, but here's a bit of inside information: If you report a computer stolen to the police, they will not even ATTEMPT to look for it if you don't have the serial number and/or service tag number from the back of the machine. You also need that information for the insurance claim. At work, since I have to keep track of ten+ computers, I've gotten into the habit of making a small book sized box with the name of the computer on the outside. Then I put every manual and piece of paper that came with the computer in there for a time in the future when I might need it. I also put all the discs for the software installed on that machine in the box. They all sit on a bookshelf in my office. That way if I ever need to re-install the software, find a registration number, see the original paperwork etc., all I have to do is open up that box. The KoH follows the leave it on the kitchen table until the wife gets sick of looking at it and either throws it away or puts it in the shop, never to be seen again method of document storage. So while I found my serial number in about two seconds, The KingofHearts did not. It was only through an expense of many hours of phone calls, driving many miles and the happenstance that he'd taken his computer in for repair and they wrote down this number that we were able to retrieve it. I have since brought my anal retentiveness from the office to the home and when we got the new computers, I had the bright idea to stick them on the copy machine and simply xerox the service tag and serial number information on the back - that way I can never blame poor handwriting on my inability to get it correct. So now we have a box for each new computer and that xerox copy is in the box.

Another thing I didn't think about until I called the company to see if they could provide me with the serial number on The KoH's computer (they couldn't) was if you report your computer stolen to the company you purchased it from, Dell, or HP, for example, they will flag it as stolen. That way anyone trying to get service on the machine will be denied and they will report it to the police. Not that I think I'm gettin' my machines back, but I certainly don't want to make it any easier for the jerk that has my stolen machine to get even more from the deal by having someone help him/her use it.

We purchased a decent sized home safe for our valuables - about a $100 expense - and The KoH bolted it to the floor. Now things that aren't valuable enough to put in a safe deposit box, but we really don't want to see walk off, are in that safe. Boxes of checks, a stash of cash, extra keys to the house and car, the one piece of jewelry that was valuable to me and wasn't taken because I was wearing it at the time and all the xerox copies of the credit cards or any other financial information - basically stuff that I need occasionally and don't want to go to the bank to get it every time. Anything else: the deed to the house, car titles, wills, etc., remains in the safe deposit box at the bank... where we have a brand new box number because my key to the old one was in my wallet that was taken.

I have long since been smart enough to keep my pictures and personal data files on an external hard drive. The hard drive wasn't taken due to a combination of luck and laziness on the part of the burglars; it was in a drawer that they didn't open. So when the computer was taken, the only photos that we lost were duplicates of ones that were already on the external hard drive. I should have been smart enough to put the financial data information on that hard drive too. I did learn, however, that it probably would be a good idea to store that external hard drive in the safe from now on.

Insurance claim agents get really defensive if you leave a message with a colleague that ends up sounding like you've said I haven't heard anything from you in a week and I'm calling to find out what's up with my claim, you useless waste of space? Then when they call you back, you will have to stroke their ego a bit if you want some decent service from them in the future. I did not say that; it just ended up sounding like that on the message her office mate took. Choose your words carefully.

For the first couple of weeks after the burglary, we knew we'd be replacing every bank account and credit card we owned. And I knew that the banks and credit card companies would be sending all the replacement cards, checks, important things and whatnot information to our home address. And here's the thing: when someone's been inside your house, they know where you live. I knew that the burglars knew a bunch of shiny new credit cards and checkbooks would be coming in the mail too. So I took a bit of a preventative measure and had all our mail held at the post office on the day after the burglary for about a month until all our replacement checks and credit cards had arrived. The post office will perform this service for a period of up to three months and they were very cool about it when I explained the reason. Technically, you're only supposed to be able to pick up mail every three days if you want them to continue to hold your mail, but the people in our local Post Office were really nice about the whole thing and let me pick up mail pretty much as often as I want.

Obviously, though, holding the mail at the post office was only a temporary solution. I spent a modest sum of money on a locking mailbox for the future and we installed it forty-six to fifty-one inches above the street level, just like the Postal Service recommends. Now, I know that the simple act of putting a lock on a plastic mailbox isn't going to keep someone out of my mail if he/she really wants to get in... but a lock on my door didn't keep someone out of my house if he/she really wanted to get in either... so I'm just considering this an added level of defense. So there's that. That and the fact that the door on our old mailbox often used to just fall open to reveal everything sitting inside as if in invitation, "Hey, here's something that looks good, why don't you take this?" Now it will take more than two seconds and a quick hand to yank something out of the mailbox. Neighbors are likely to see that happening if someone has his arm in my mailbox up to his shoulder. I know there are more secure ways to handle this, like getting a PO Box at the post office. But here's a little secret you may not know about me: I'm lazy. Or maybe I've told you that before. I simply cannot expend the energy of trying to get the entire world to change my address and then go to the post office daily to pick up mail at a PO Box. I know my limits.

My life is pretty much lived on line these days and I had a number of automatic payments that keep me with a roof over my head. This has, by far, been the most frustrating, make you want to bang your head against the wall, part of the whole experience. The police, the insurance, the feeling of violation, the loss of stuff, all pale in comparison to trying to get all my creditors to apply a new account number to a automatic payment I've been making for years. I'm so not joking here. Here's something I learned: when you call to give different account numbers to the automatic payments, the best thing to do is cancel the old automatic payment completely. Then hang up the phone and call back and set up a new one. In Every. Single. One. of the automatic payments I have, I tried to just give the customer service dude the new account number since it was still the same bank, same routing numbers, and still a checking account. Seems logical, right? Every. Single. One. of those payments was screwed up in one way or another and I missed the payment that was due that month. I have spent way too much time trying to deal with this than if I'd just canceled the automatic debit and started a new one.

I that same vein... when your mortgage consultant cheerfully tells you, "Oh no problem, I just need your new account number and we'll re-post the payment," do not believe him. Because he is wrong. You will find out three weeks later, your payment still has not been made and now your account is in default, and only because you yourself notice that the payment hasn't cleared your account, not because anyone from the mortgage company thought to notify you. When you talk to the supervisor of the department she will say, "Oh that person gave you wrong information, we never do that," and when you ask, "When were you going to inform me?" she will say, "We never do that either." And then you will have to write an email to the mortgage company accusing them of trying to get you to default on your loan so they can foreclose on your house and no wonder everyone hates mortgage companies these days. And then they will ignore that email completely. Because they have bigger fish to fry.

You need to tell people to whom you have written checks before your bank account was closed (because your check ledger was taken too and you don't know which check number was which) that they should just not cash anything. Then they will ignore that, hold the check for two more weeks and then present it for payment on your closed account. Then get bitchy because your check bounced.

In that same order of things, you might think that since nine major banks and credit card companies were so accommodating with your sob story and made it relatively easy to arrange for a new payment to be made or to close the account, that it'd be that easy to deal with all your creditors. Never underestimate the power of day care providers to make something more complicated than it has to be.

Ultimately, while the whole thing opened a big can of Pain In Th'Ass, it has not robbed me of my good humor or belief that most people are basically good. When you are struck with just how easy it is to break into a home, the real surprise is that it doesn't happen more often... and that makes me feel good about the human race. Also, after having been through some of the events I have seen in my past, I tend to measure the BAD in my life by a much bigger yard stick than by whether or not I have to change the locks on my house or whether I have to make a bunch of nuisance calls to banks. Stuff is just stuff. The important things and people in my life are safe and sound and I choose to focus on that for the time being. Call me a Cockeyed Optimist.

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Grand Central

Posted on 4/04/2009 05:00:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

When I was a kid, whenever we were in a really crowded place or a lot of people descended in a room or event that was only meant for a few people, my mother would always say, "What is this? Grand Central Station?" I'd never been there or really even seen pictures of it so my sense was always wall-to-wall people and you couldn't see the floor.

Grand Central Station is a lot prettier than I imagined it as a kid.

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If You Have a Kosher Computer, You Can't Get Spam

Posted on 4/03/2009 04:10:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

While souring the internet (so I don't have to), Monica came across a list of the best food carts in New York and at the top of the list stood Moshe's Falafel Stand, deep in Hell's Kitchen. Hell's Kitchen is by far, my favorite area in the city and I've said several times that if I were to move to New York, I'd try as hard as I could to live in Hell's Kitchen and only partly because I relish the idea of being able to say, "I live in Hell's Kitchen." Now I have another reason to want to live there, and it's this modest little place:

Moshe's is listed on multiple websites as one of the best Kosher places in New York. Could this photo then be any more perfect? Honestly, I did not even notice when I took it. I only clued in to it later when I read Monica's post - color me observant.

We arrived at Moshe's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with lines of drool dripping from the corners of our mouths, and the good people working alongside whom I have to assume is THE Moshe looked up at us, blinked twice and said, "Um... yeah... we don't have any food ready yet." Apparently New Yorkers don't simply don't line up for falafels as a mid-morning snack. We, however, were not so easily put off.

"When will you be open?"

"Fifteen minutes."

So we hung around in a shoe store for ten minutes and came back.

"Not ready yet."

"When will it be ready?"

"Fifteen minutes."

So we walked around the block and came back.

"Now? now? NOW?"

"Not yet."

So we walked a little more and came back. I caught the guy's eye and he waved us over.

"Now we are ready for you!"

I guess he admired our persistance because when Moshe wasn't looking he slipped an extra falafel into the bag and said, "I put extra in there because you such big fans!"

I've only recently become a fan of the chickpea and in falafel form, I have to admit that I'm not all that well-schooled. But I haven't had a better falafel - free one or not - in my life. So Moshe has to be doing something right. I just hope Moshe didn't notice the extra one that was slipped into my bag. I'd hate to think that extra falafel ball came out of his pay.

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There and Back Again

Posted on 4/02/2009 07:45:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

It is perhaps possible that I need a New York City Intervention. I love Crappy Economy where it's cheap to travel again. It makes my new obsession with this city so much easier to feed. Here are just a few photos to tide you over while I catch up on all the work I've been putting off as well as try and figure out how to write about my experience with the Nazi Security Guard at The Daily Show. Click to embiggen - they look much better in a larger format.

I have no idea what this church was... I just liked the angle at which I happened to come across it.

This time I was able to cross two goals off my bucket list: see a Broadway play and be in the same room with Jon Stewart. (Before I left we had a family prayer together, as we sometimes do, and The KingofHearts actually said the following: "...and bless Momma, so she'll travel safely and that she won't run off with Jon Stewart and will come back to us." I'd say something about him being flippant and untrusting because I love my husband and have no intention of leaving him ever, but Jon Stewart is on my list so what that means is if it were a possibility I'd have to think long and hard before running off with Jon anyway.) Eating my way through Manhattan wasn't on the list, but I managed to do that too and with the help of my let's split everything so we can try more stuff partner, I managed to do it without gaining three hundred pounds.

Detail on the Metropolitan Museum of Art

We went to quite a few museums and never went inside any this trip. Truth be told... I'm really in it for the architecture. This is possibly a layover from reading The Fountainhead four times. Every time I have gone to New York, I've come home with a rash on the back of my neck from the rubbing of collar of the coat I was wearing while I constantly looked up.

Happy hour lasts a little longer in NYC than I'm used to in D.C.

And window displays are a little more S&M than in our nation's Capitol.

At least I don't need a Lawn Jockey Intervention.

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Didn't Take Long for THAT to Backfire on Me

Posted on 3/28/2009 03:20:00 PM - by NG

The Dormouse: "Momma, Dad, we should get a minivan."

Both me and the The KingofHearts with shock and horror: "NOOOOoooooo!!!!

The KingofHearts: "That's a terrible idea."

DM: "But if we got a minivan, the door could slide open."

Me: "Ah, but a minivan has a lot of other bad things about it."

DM: "Like what?"

KoH: "Well, it sucks, for one."

Me: "And the seats are full of tacks so when you sit in them you poke your butt."

KoH: "And that's no fun."

Me: "And when you turn on the radio, all you get on any station is one guy going, 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.'"

The Caterpillar: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

The Dormouse: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

The Caterpillar: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

The Dormouse: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

The Caterpillar: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

The Dormouse: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

Me: "OKAY THAT'LL BE QUITE ENOUGH."

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Self-Deprecation 101

Posted on 3/27/2009 11:31:00 AM - by NG

My father's new favorite past time is reading my blog posts and then emailing me an appropriate embarrassing photo from my youth that I'd not only forgotten existed, but sometimes even blocked the entire experience from my mind. I guess that way, he ensures I never forget the fact that I was once a loser who grew up into an even bigger loser.

This was what was waiting in my email box this morning.

These aren't really prom pictures as I recalled yesterday. They're actually from two different Homecomings... I remember at least that much. I do not however, remember owning blue eyeshadow. That, I'm gonna call a camera trick.

I'll refrain from commenting on the boys or mentioning their names because I think at least one of them reads this blog occasionally. So if you're out there... sorry, dude!

Holy too much lip gloss, Batman!

I think I might have even made this dress myself. I can't think of a reason other than incompetence why I would have worn something that highlighted my freakishly long neck in such a manner and I seem to remember that it was home sewn. His tie, I believe, was a belt in another life.

When I was doing such things as going to homecoming dances, it was the biggest fad to make boutonnieres with a small rose bud in the middle of the carnation. We all thought it was the coolest thing since George Michael... and look how he turned out. Today I think this looks like a tumor is growing out of that carnation on his lapel... either that or some eerie foreshadowing scene from The Blob.

I post this as a cautionary tale to all you kids out there gearing up for prom in a couple of months. Sure you think you look cool in your get-up today... and you probably do. Just remember that coolness is fleeting and someday you'll be scrambling around on the interweb trying to take back every photo ever taken of you in those knickers and cloche hat. Or perhaps, like me, you'll be posting them on line yourself in a desperate cry for the psychotherapy you've always needed. Either way, it's not a pretty ending to your story.

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Firsts

Posted on 3/26/2009 05:10:00 AM - by NG In: memes

A folly of firsts:

1. Who was your FIRST prom date?
He was a percussionist friend of mine and we went to the prom just as friends because neither of us had another date. The next most significant thing I remember about him is he helped me pick up my car once - as in off the ground. But that's another story.

2. Do you still talk to your FIRST love?
Yes.

3. What was your FIRST alcoholic drink?

I have never been much of a drinker. I think someone let me try their bloody mary at some event when I was in college. I loved it. Which is why I probably shouldn't be a drinker.

4. What was your FIRST job?

Hawking sodas at a football game. Man, you have to have good knees for that.

5. What was your FIRST car?

Honda Civic. I believe I replaced the clutch on that car more often than I replaced the oil.

6. Who was the FIRST person to text you today?

No one. I'm not so hip with the texting and the technology and and the twitscape and stuff.

7. Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning?

Gordon B. Hinckley. Now follow me here: I played for a funeral on Saturday and the piece I played was a song with lyrics written by him. The tune has been stuck in my head now for days and every morning I wake up hearing it in my head.

8. Who was your FIRST grade teacher?

Mrs. Spade. What I remember about her was she was really, REALLY proud of her Irish heritage and she invented a leprechaun named Malcolm that was the classroom "mascot." She had this whole mythology and back story about him, where he lived, what he wore, his brother's name, how he came to America, etc. He was very small and shy which explained why he would never appear in person, but sometimes he would bring things to the classroom when we weren't there and leave them for it. And here's the thing: we kids believed in him like we believed in Santa Claus. We never saw him, but we were privy to his handiwork. For example, one day we'd come into the classroom and all the chairs would be on their sides. There'd be a letter from Malcolm on the board apologizing because he'd come in to leave treats for the class but his brother, the mischief maker, knocked all the chairs over. She had a station set up in the classroom where we could write notes to Malcolm and Mrs. Spade promised to deliver them - she was the only one he'd talk to you see. Then the next day, we'd get a note back from Malcolm. So... pretty much... my first pen pal was an invisible leprechaun. Now I realize it was all an elaborate ruse to get us kids to write. I've often thought of Mrs. Spade and how today she'd probably be fired for teaching the kids to believe her lies.

9. Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane?
I have no recollection of where we were going but I do remember parking for my first airplane ride and my grandmother prepping me by explaining what would happen on the plane: "They'll give you a little packet of peanuts to eat and a liiiiittttttle bit of Coke with a LOT of ice."

10. Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk?
The first friend I remember having was a girl down the street named "Peanut." Ok, her real name wasn't Peanut, but that's what everyone called her. Was it Liz maybe? I definitely don't remember her last name. I'm afraid we no longer talk, mainly because it's hard to find some one on Facebook using the search terms "Peanut" and "used to live down the street from me."

11. Where was your FIRST sleep over?
No clue. But I do remember one sleep over where we made up choreography to the song from the Underoos commercial.

12. Who was the FIRST person you talked to today?
The Caterpillar. I believe what I said to her was, "Good morning, sweethe.... please don't put your hands in my mouth, you just had them in your diaper."

13. Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time?
Could this be a friend when I was in college? I honestly can't remember anything before that. Apparently, some people are not always a bridesmaid.

14. What was the FIRST thing you did this morning?
Let's see, how many euphemisms for urinate can I come up with? Piddle, widdle, tinkle, water the garden, strain the potatoes, drain the tank, Jimmy Riddle, pump ship, point Percy at the porcelain... had enough yet?

15. What was the FIRST concert you ever went to?
I have been to so many, I honestly don't know. I think it might have been a Shlomo Mintz recital. But I could be wrong.

16. FIRST tattoo?
This is it.

17. FIRST piercing?
This is my back.

18. FIRST foreign country you visited?
Gotta be Mexico. I remember very little about it though.

19. FIRST movie you remember seeing?
Breaking Away. I think this might explain the Dennis Quaid fetish I developed later in life.

20. When was your FIRST detention?
I have never been to detention. I was such a goody two shoes... and oh man, did I love that song.

21. What was the FIRST state you lived in?
Sate of confusion, state of denial, state of flux, state of denial... take your pick.

22. Who was your FIRST roommate?
This would be my freshman year in college. She lasted about three weeks and then ditched me for a better dorm so I had the room to myself for the rest of the year. Yay me!

23. If you had one wish. What would it be?
What's the old saying?

24. What is something you would learn if you had the chance?
How to

25. Who do you think will be the next person to post this?
Anybody's guess. Have at it fellow bloggers!

3 cents added |

Spying

Posted on 3/25/2009 06:53:00 AM - by NG

The look on her face here as she meets a boy on the playground tells me I really should prepare a tower to lock her in when she turns sixteen.

6 cents added |

On Love and Setting the Record Straight

Posted on 3/24/2009 12:05:00 PM - by NG

Lately, I've had more than one person accuse me of not appreciating my children very much. And I suppose those people are right to a certain extent. I do tend toward being a complainer. If you read just this blog alone and didn't know very much about me, I can see how that might be your impression of my experience.

So let me set the record straight here. The truth is that I am hopelessly in love with my family and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have these tiny hominids entrusted to my care. (I'm not always so sure they're lucky, but hey, that's the luck of the draw). Though it's not really my nature, I work very hard to make sure my children and husband know that they are loved. There's not a day that goes by that I don't tell them I love them. There's not a day that goes by that they don't experience physical affection from me. There's not a day that goes by that they don't hear some kind of praise or reinforcing statement from me about what they do or how they do something.

I'm quite aware that I could do a better job... tell them more often... be more sincere... find more moments. Particularly with The Dormouse, I have not been as good at catching her in the act of doing something good and pointing it out lately and there are days when I ache for not having done a better job of being her mother. Some of that has to do with not enough hours in the day; some of it is due to the fact that she's in school now; some of that is simply a failing of my own. But I am aware of it and trying to do better. I remember all too well what it was like before these little ankle-biters came to stay in my life and the pain I felt when I couldn't bring one of them home with me. While I really think I should have accomplished a lot more with my time before children - you know, traveled more, copyedited the great American novel, took in a few more Broadway plays, worked on a Nobel Prize project - those are all things I gladly give up to spend my days washing poop out of clothing and trying to get one of them to be quiet for just a second so my brain can stop humming. The benefits outweigh the expenses that much.

But here's one of the things I've learned about blogs in the past couple of years and mine is no different: what you read on the screen is not the sum total of a person's life. It's the thirty seconds of material that the author chose to share at that moment and what goes on for the other eighty-six thousand, three hundred and seventy seconds in his or her day is Real Life.

I certainly don't go around resenting my life for the majority of every day. If that were so, I would find a way to change it. I simply do not have the tolerance for putting up with a situation that doesn't work for me most of the time. We all make like decisions about our lives. Motherhood, much like my job, is filled with some really good things and some really bad things. What you generally do in life is weigh your options, decide whether the good things in a particular course of action outweigh the bad things and then follow the path of least resistance. I don't enjoy working every day, don't like some of the things I have to deal with at work, but I do like having a roof over my head, food, a reasonably flexible work schedule and bringing home that paycheck. The things you get from being a parent are so much more that I have to say that for me, yes, the pros definitely outweigh the cons.

One of the reasons I started this blog and one of the things that I had to come to terms with when I became a Parent With A Child To Care For Everyday, was the idea that parenthood would be all candy candy yum yum, rainbow smile, river made of ice cream, and happy waif models dancing through the streets under a giant horse made of flowers. Parenthood, like my job, is work. And like I tell my husband, work is work. If it was always fun, they wouldn't have to pay someone to do it. All too often, the idea is perpetuated in the culture around me that once you bring that child home, you're done with your struggles and the rest of life will be a breeze; and that's just not so. I would much rather come into this parenting adventure knowing that fact and knowing that it's hard for everyone, not just me, than assuming I was doing something wrong because every moment wasn't filled with unicorns and happy endings to Disney movies. The fact that some very wise people on the Internet have been brave enough to speak the unspeakable and write about both the joys and perils of parenthood makes me feel a tiny bit less alone when I'm surrounded by the Outward Appearance of Perfect Mother everywhere I look.

For me, as long as I can keep my sense of humor about something, I can keep my head. Looking back over my life, the worst times were moments when I let go of trying to find The Funny in any given situation. Those were the moments where I was depressed and couldn't recover. Those were the moments when I feared for the future. And so, more for me than anyone else, that's what this blog does. It reminds me to find a different way to look at things... reminds me to keep my head and find the humor in the day-to-day grind... allows me to speak the unspeakable: that sometimes being a parent is a sucky job. This blog isn't mommyblog, or a parenting blog, or a WAH mom blog, or SAH mom blog... or anything really. It's just my experience doing all those things.

I'm sure that my coping methods aren't for everyone. Some people need to be positive and serious and pious and spiritual and that's fine. As Dr. Phil would say, "How's that working for ya?" If you can answer in the affirmative, more power to you. That's just not me. There are times when I can be that, but most of the time, I have to be irreverent and flippant just to get through my day without throwing up my hands and yelling "Uncle."

The part of my life that I fail to write about on this weblog most often are the frequent times that I'm so overwhelmed with love for these little beings entrusted to my care that I feel my heart just might break with the effort of it all. The fact that I choose not to write about that is probably due to the fact that any attempt to describe in words the feelings I feel would most assuredly be less than what I feel. Those feelings would somehow seem cheapened by my inability to do them justice.

So... as to the criticism, I'll take it in stride. You're probably right. I do need to express my love for them more and I will make an effort to make that love more obvious. I do need to point out what a blessing they are. If there's one thing that I believe marks the failure of a parent, it's if a child were to grow up and not know he or she was loved. Let's call this my one and only New Year's Resolution... coming just a few months late for the new year.

So this morning, filled full of New Resolve, I picked up my Number Two Child, gave her a hug, told her how much I loved her and just sat with her for awhile... without the interference of television, computers or the phone. And she ever so slightly put her arms around my neck and hugged back and for a second we two just sat there enjoying this poignant moment... right before she put her hand down her throat and caused herself to throw up her scrambled eggs from breakfast all over my shirt.

8 cents added |

Scenes from a Playground

Posted on 3/24/2009 10:04:00 AM - by NG

I'm ready for Spring this year, which is something you'll almost never hear me say my loyalties to Winter are seldom divided and because if Spring comes early that means Summer is coming early too and normally I'd prefer that that dead part of Winter where there's no sun, no snow and everything is brown last for more than half the year rather than deal with the thought of another day over a hundred degrees, which is also the reason I don't live in the Southwest anymore and oh my gosh this whole paragraph is one sentence.

Here's one of the reasons I'm ready for Spring.

1 cents added |

Maybe Slightly Opinionated On This Subject

Posted on 3/23/2009 07:14:00 PM - by NG

Scene: I'm home alone with the girls and the doorbell rings. Ordinarily, I'm not weird about that type of thing, but lately, I've been a bit more careful about everything, so when I realize I do not know the guy standing there, I open the door, but immediately make a show of locking the screen door.

The man standing there has a clipboard and credentials from Comcast around his neck.

Him: I'm looking for Alice?

Me: Yes?

Him: Is that you?

Me: Yes.

Him: You used to have your television and internet service with us?

Me: Yes?

Him: You want it back?

Me: Oh! I see.... yeah. Absolutely not.

Him (looking hurt): Why?

Me: Because I wasn't happy with the service. That's why I switched.

Him: *chuckles in disbelief* Well why did you switch?

Me: Because in all my life from any company any where, tv service or otherwise, I've never experienced worse customer service than I did when I had Comcast.

Him: *looks at me like I'm the biggest bitch he's met all week*

Me: No, seriously... write that down. I've never had worse service than Comcast and while I'm happy with the service I have currently, even if I weren't, I still wouldn't switch back to Comcast.

Him: Well, you don't have to be like that about it.

Me: Dude, you asked.

4 cents added |

Factory Acts

Posted on 3/23/2009 05:47:00 AM - by NG

We were in a store in the mall recently and The Dormouse managed to get the manager there to give her a job application, which she promptly filled out. Damn those child labor laws, because I'm thinking these days, it'd be nice to have the extra income.

3 cents added |

Developing a Sense of Humor

Posted on 3/22/2009 06:38:00 AM - by NG

It's hard to do that orange-in-the-mouth-for-teeth joke when the orange is a third the size of your face, but she's trying.

3 cents added |

Beware of Swedes Bearing Gifts

Posted on 3/21/2009 07:09:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

We happened on this giant floral horse at the Swatch store in Times Square. I'm not sure what significance a Trojan horse made from flowers has for selling watches intended for everyone to own a bakers' dozen, but apparently it's a big deal and waif-like models will run happily under it's legs as it takes over the world.

3 cents added |

Times Square

Posted on 3/20/2009 09:12:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

Every time I'm in Times Square, I'm always struck by how little it impresses me. I guess when you've spent any length of time in Las Vegas, gawdy neon no longer holds it's hypnotic allure over you. I did love this building though.

0 cents added |

If We Shadows Have Offended

Posted on 3/19/2009 09:12:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

We accidentally happened by this building when we were walking through SoHo during our Sleepwalk Thru New York tour. I was thrilled to finally see it in person. Monica, clearly not as impressed, humored me and my geeky architecture loving nature and we crossed the street to take a picture even though it was about 6:00 and way too dark to get a really good photo. Almost every one I took was too blurry to use because of my refusal to lug a tripod around with me. Except this one, which I had to clean up in Photoshop quite a bit.

Now it looks like the sun was actually shining that day.

The Puck Building is one of the most iconic building images in New York. It probably ranks right up the next to the Flat Iron Building for sheer recognizability because whenever producers need a hip, yet classy, exterior shot for the building that the main character on the show works in, they use this. I've seen it on on television and in movies a hundred times but most recently as the building Grace had her studio in on the show Will & Grace.

I know it's been said before that New York is often an uncredited character in entertainment media. It's especially obvious in shows like Law and Order and CSI: NY. I like to think of the buildings of New York as the extras. Each one with it's own personality and history. I could live in this city a decade and never get tired of looking UP.

0 cents added |

Number One Seems Most Plausible

Posted on 3/19/2009 06:59:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

I loved the framing of the moon by this building when we were in New York a couple of weeks ago so I snapped a photo. Then later, I was curious so I consulted the interweb to find out what the building might be or might have been and what the letters "MSI" on the building stand for. Google helped me with a few possibilities:

Manhattan Staten Island
Materials Solutions, Inc.
Microsoft Installer
Marketing Science Institute
Museum of Science and Industry
Magnetic Source Imaging
Minnesota Supercomputing Institute
Mindless Self Indulgence

And then I found this page and I threw in the towel.

5 cents added |

My Secret Public Boyfriend

Posted on 3/18/2009 10:01:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

I did it! I successfully coerced Mike Birbiglia into commenting on my blog! Maybe next, I'll use my powers to force those AIG executives to give back their bonus money.

I only wish I had actually written something funny or impressive for him to read about. It's kind of like finally getting your dad to finally go to your school play and then backstage you're told they've cut all your speaking parts and given you the part of a tree in the back of the forest. (What? That didn't happen to everyone?!?) At very least I could have managed to get video of my eighteen month old saying "Cracker, please." to include in the post, but... you know... she doesn't talk yet, and it'd probably lose it's inflection in sign language.

Seriously though Mike, we loved your show. You are hilarious and I'd have forgiven you for extending... eventually. Especially if it means I could manage to make time to get up there and see the show again. But with this, you've cemented yourself as one of my favorite comedians of all time. All the times I've mentioned Jon Stewart on this blog, he's NEVER ONCE commented.

To the rest of you reading, if you haven't checked out Mike's work, there are many hilarious clips on YouTube to whet your appetite... then you can all go out and buy What I Should Have Said Was Nothing because that's some damn funny stuff.

Jon who???

0 cents added |

If You Don't Like the Weather in Washington...

Posted on 3/18/2009 08:54:00 AM - by NG In: DC

...just wait awhile, it'll change.

Two weeks ago

Yesterday

0 cents added |

Remote Access

Posted on 3/17/2009 08:22:00 PM - by NG

The KoH bought me a new car stereo for Christmas. It has a remote control. I can reach my arm out and press each and every button on the stereo, but in case I find that too taxing, I now have a remote control to take care of that onerous process. The problem with that logic is that it actually takes me more effort and endangers more lives for me to rummage around in the car and find the remote control than if I'd just reach over and, you know.... push.

We finally replaced our computer... with a laptop computer which came yesterday. It came with a remote control. A device that is intended for me to use On. My. Lap. has a remote control as standard feature.

Just how lazy are Americans anyway?

3 cents added |

I'm a Bear... et cetera

Posted on 3/17/2009 06:48:00 AM - by NG In: NYC

A couple of years ago Monica and I went to see Jon Stewart when he came to Washington. Aside from getting rousted by security guards for hanging out outside Jon Stewart's dressing room door, we were also introduced to a new comedian (well, you know... new to us... I imagine he was doing stand-up for some time before he got that gig) named Mike Birbiglia and became fast fans. Full disclosure here: I happen to know that Mike googles himself on a regular basis so I'm going to see how many times I can mention his name in order to get him to comment on my blog.

Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia Mike Birbiglia

Are you ready to comment yet, Mike? I promise not to call you pudgy and awkward.

I'm not a big fan of stand-up comedy in general. I hate the idea of people standing there shooting out rapid fire jokes, one after another, which have no relation to one another. But every once in awhile a comedian manages to do stand-up in a way that makes it seem like what they're doing isn't really stand-up - it's more like a friend telling a funny story that totally fits within the conversation. Mike Birbiglia is one of those and since that fateful day when our loyalties to Jon Stewart became slightly divided, we've read Mike's Secret Public Journal faithfully, set aside time to watch his Comedy Central specials, rented those same specials on Netflix to watch the special features, and stalked him on line.

C'mon, you know you want to, Birbiglia. The comment form is at the bottom.

Okay, maybe that stalking comment put me over the top.

Anyway, Mike's had this one man show off Broadway in New York for several months now and we've been promising ourselves that we would go pretty much since it started. It was extended and we still didn't make it up there. We kind of wanted to wait until it was nicer weather so we could walk around the streets of NYC all night and not freeze to death. Finally, we heard the show was ending so we decided it was time or we'd never get to see it, so we gathered up the $1 bus tickets, made our husbands babysit, and got seats for the show.

I lost Monica straightaway, but this bear followed me up on the bus and then all over NYC.

Of course, the minute we bought tickets, we heard that the show had been extended again until June. So, thanks for nothing, Mike!

Bear enjoys pretending to maul Mike because he's covered with condiments and tastes delicious.

The tickets we got were for a show just a couple of days after our house was burglarized and I've always believed that when one is confronted with stress, one should always do the mature, adult thing and face one's troubles head on... so I ran away and went to New York. Because as we all know, I am neither mature nor adult.

One of the best things about New York City is you can walk into the Fashion Institute of Technology wearing a panda mask and no one even looks at you twice.

The show was hilarious and I didn't realize how much I'd laughed until after we came back on the bus with no heat (seriously, Megabus?!? I know you sell $1 tickets, but maybe you could charge $2 and you know... HAVE HEAT) at 3:30 in the blessed am and realized the next day that my sides hurt from laughing so much.

You see some of the craziest things on a billboard in New York City.

We walked our asses off because we were too busy looking around to realize we'd strolled over five miles by the time we got to Bleeker street and then after the show, headed back to the bus stop by way of times square - where a bear can do anything a bear wants to do.

5 cents added |

Alice's Adventures Underground

Right Wright

Once Burnt, Lesson Learnt

Grand Central

If You Have a Kosher Computer, You Can't Get Spam

There and Back Again

Didn't Take Long for THAT to Backfire on Me

Self-Deprecation 101

Firsts

Spying

On Love and Setting the Record Straight

Scenes from a Playground

Maybe Slightly Opinionated On This Subject

Factory Acts

Developing a Sense of Humor

Beware of Swedes Bearing Gifts

Times Square

If We Shadows Have Offended

Number One Seems Most Plausible

My Secret Public Boyfriend

If You Don't Like the Weather in Washington...

Remote Access

I'm a Bear... et cetera

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