sveedish

Teensy Planet

2010-11-19T00:03:00.000-08:00

Every so often the words, "I have a blog" appear in my conversations, which always sounds so lame to me. But the last few times that phrase surfaced was when I was recounting a Small World story for someone. I am fascinated by small world stories - is that weird? I just think it is so amazing to find out that you and a friend have a mutual friend by some freakish, random coincidence. And my "I have a blog" phrase leads straight into one of these instances. Read on, if you want to have your MIND BLOWN AWAY at the crazy small world story...

So, I have a blog. And a couple of years ago, during the November NaBloPoMo (which I am sucking at this year, btw) my blog was stumbled upon by one lovely Sasha, who also has a blog. She commented on a post, and I felt like Navin R. Johnson on phone book delivery day. She and I became online friends. We both originated from Orange County (that's in Southern CA for you out-of-staters), and coincidentally, were both in Northern CA at that time. We'd planned on getting together, but nothing ended up getting planned. I moved back down to Southern CA with my then-husband and our Boog, and shortly after that, Sasha moved down with her family.

We finally had a meet and greet. And a friendship was born. Later, we became Facebook buddies as well. Because everything revolves around Facebook. And one day, Sasha's friend is at her house for a visit, and sees her Facebook page on her computer and sees my name there. And she remarks that there cannot possibly be two people with the name Eva Green* in the world, seeing as how it is so unique and all.

And wouldn't you know, it turns out to be an old friend of mine from high school who was on the Colorguard team with me. And she is good friends with someone I met online while in Northern California.

So awesome and freakishly random. I have more if you want to read 'em. And please share yours!

* Name changed to protect the guilty.

Friday Flotsam

2010-11-12T23:07:00.000-08:00

Something worth sharing today:

Regarding my last post and Linda's comment reminded me of this. Go straight to 10:20 for the "little buddies" bit. Watch the whole thing for a good laugh - I miss Phil. :(

Old Habits Die Harder (with a vengeance?)

2010-11-09T21:50:00.000-08:00

Have you ever tried to quit a habit that was bad for you?

I have. For years, I tried to quit smoking. I started when I was 17; such an impressionable young age, 17. It was Spring Break, my senior year in high school. My friend Gail was already a seasoned smoker (she had bought her own pack!) and offered me a smoke one day while we were working on our tans at the beach.

After that, I would smoke at the beach. I would bum cigarettes at parties. Then I bought my own pack. Then I found a favorite brand. And thus the habit was fully realized. For the next 17 years.

Sometimes I dated smokers, sometimes I didn't. Dating a smoker was always preferred. Because come on: smoking after sex? Awesome. Smoking on the front steps after dinner? So choice. Smoking INSIDE their apartment because they're a smoker too? Love it. When I dated a non-smoker, it was exhausting. Go outside to smoke ALL THE TIME. By myself. Experience the cringing when you kiss them after a cigarette because EWW, my breath stinks. Brushing my teeth a lot, chewing minty gum a lot, popping Altoids like a bored wife of a neurosurgeon pops Valium. You get the picture.

Then, along comes a boyfriend that smokes. And then somehow we both seem to be ready to not be smoking anymore! So we decide to quit together. I go on the patch. He opts for the gum. I kept my last pack in my glove box in the car (because why? No clue - what is it about clinging to that "emergency pack"? So stupid.) and during a weak moment a few days into quitting I light up, take a long drag, cough, hate it, and toss it out the window. And that was the last cigarette I ever had.

For the last, what, six years (?) I have avoided smoking like the plague. I am the most obnoxious ex-smoker. I hate the smell of smoke when passing someone on the sidewalk. I lecture people, and I brag about how awesome I am for quitting smoking, and the I lecture some more, and turn up my nose and brag some more.

I know, right? Somebody slap me, please.

So fast-forward to last September. I go up to Seattle for a weekend of grown-up fun and debauchery. My host is a smoker. We go to a club to watch his favorite band. We drink. We drink some more. We go outside the bar so he can smoke. Oh, by the way, how messed up it is that you can't even smoke in bars anymore? Why would anyone want to smoke at all after that stupid law? It's just no fun anymore.

So we're outside, he's smoking, we're people watching. I ask for a cigarette. Whywhywhywhy. I dunno. It seemed like a good idea at the time. So I smoked. And the next day I had another one IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. And then one more. I don't think it's a coincidence that I felt like total crap for the next couple days.

I was suddenly terrified that I would want more and more again. For the next week I was vigilant. I guess I figured if I stayed aware of the potential to go back to the Dark Side, I would be strong. And guess what? No problem! It's all good. But I still feel guilty for some reason. Like I let myself down. The one thing I have always been proud of was successfully quitting smoking. Because it really was hard to do.

Yeah, yeah, and that whole having a baby thing. Whatever.

Freedom?

2010-11-06T23:22:00.000-07:00

Boog is with his dad's parents this weekend. I always look forward to these weekends; it gives me a break from responsibility and a chance to sleep in and stay up late and sleep in. Today I spent the day at home, cleaning, folding laundry and watching TV. And I took a nap in the middle of the day.

Okay, I got my fill of freedom. I miss him now and want him to come home.

Made it By a Hair

2010-11-05T23:00:00.000-07:00

This just in! No seriously, this post just BARELY made it in time to continue with my "post every day in November" goal. Whew!

I was all, "Wait - did I post today?" and then I was all, "OH my God, I don't remember."

And then I was all, "Crap, now I have to go check because I can't remember."

And then I was all, "CRAP, I didn't post."

And then I posted this.

The End.

p.s. To make up for the complete lack of entertainment value in this posting, I give you this entertaining thing that was not made by me.

A Mid-Day Quickie (sorry, not that kind of Quickie)

2010-11-04T16:32:00.000-07:00

Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: It is a really obscure number and you have probably never heard of it.

Happiness Revisited Revisited

2010-11-03T21:33:00.000-07:00

Today has been a really great day, and it reminded me of two of my past posts, which you can read here and here. FYI: I will NEVER tire of watching the video link in the second one.

The purpose of the Happiness posts was to list three things that made you happy today. Here are my three:

1. When dropping Boog off at preschool this morning, I gave him a hug and told him I loved him. He turned and walked a few feet away, only to turn back and run into my arms again and kiss me and say, "I love you too, Mommy." Then I melted into a puddle of love goo.

2. When putting Boog to bed tonight, after finishing a couple more pages of his favorite book of the moment, Our Universe, we turned out the light and chatted about our day. Then I kissed him goodnight, said "Goodnight my sweet boy" and started to get up to leave. He snaked his little arms around my neck and said, "Don't leave yet. Stay for four more minutes." So I did. And I melted into another puddle of love goo.

3. Finishing all my dishes and laundry tonight before 9pm, allowing me a night of sweet, sweet boob-tube watching. And blogging. And Facebooking (DUH!).

So what are three sources of happiness for you today? Recounting them will make you happy all over again, I promise! Trust me, I'm a doctor.

Innuendo and Inference

2010-11-02T23:01:00.000-07:00

It was 1993. I think. I had decided to chuck any remains of responsibility out the window and drove from Los Angeles to Colorado for the summer. After two days of driving, I stopped in Grand Junction to stay with a college friend, her fiancé and her family. They were getting married later that month, and all of our college friends were making the trip out to watch it happen.

After a couple days with them, I continued on to Denver, where I stayed for the better part of the summer. Another college friend of mine had just graduated, and had moved to a suburb of Denver in anticipation of attending graduate school in Boulder. She had kindly extended an invitation to "come visit and stay as long as you like!" Sucker. I said, "Great! I'll be right there!"

I fully embraced the role of Slacker Roommate. No job, nothing but time on my hands. Remember those days? No? Liar. Then again, if you don't remember, maybe you were doing it right.

from my home base, I went on little mini-road trips to Boulder, Estes Park (the Continental Divide!) and a town with a name that made it impossible to avoid: Loveland. I went horseback riding and hiking, and walked around aimlessly. I got a tattoo. My slackerhood was complete.

A couple weeks into my Denver residency, another college friend flew in and the three of us drove down to Grand Junction for the wedding. What fun - so many of the people that I loved to party with were all in one place! And for once, we had an actual reason to celebrate! The reception was effortlessly joyous and loud. My best friend - and source of my unrequited love - was at my side most of the day. After the reception, we all apparently decided that there was more drinking to be had, so we headed to a restaurant to take care of that.

That night, alcohol and a wedding high gave me the inhibition necessary to profess my love for my best friend. I had asked him to come outside to talk to me. I told him I loved him. He said, "No, you don't." I said, "Yes, I do." Ad nauseum. Cue our drunken friends spilling out of the restaurant, yelling "There you guys are! We thought you bailed on us!" End of yet another awkward and totally mortifying moment in Eva's life.

My best friend disappeared, probably running to hide in his hotel room (pussy). The rest of us walked back to the hotel in various states of inebriation. I found myself walking alongside Tim.

Tim is the brown-hair-turned-blond-from-the-sun-and-saltwater surfer guy that you think about when you run through California stereotypes in your head. Tall, tan, crinkly smile, shoulder-length hair. In a word: Yum. Am I right, ladies? And oh such good medicine for a girl who just got her heart stomped on and kicked across the road.

We end up giving each other massages on my bed in the hotel room, with Jen passed out on her bed on the other side of the room. Now, we all know what happens when we start giving massages while drunk, right? That's right - we make out. Which is what we did. And that's all we did, because you know why? Because JEN WAS SLEEPING IN THE BED ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM.

All of a sudden, Tim says, "Let's go for a drive." I have my car, so off we go. I take him up to National Monument, which is where I'd done some solo hiking while I was in Grand Junction at the beginning of my trip. Yes, it was pitch black at that time of night, and therefore nary a view in sight, but let's be honest here. A view was not what we were after.

I pulled the car over in what looked like a secluded enough spot and we picked across the boulders to a nice large flat one. Being the Perfect Man, Tim had brought the comforter from the hotel bed and a bucket of ice. We laid down and gazed at the blanket of stars above us. And then I forgot all about my best friend for the rest of the night.

Thank you, Tim. For making what could have been a very shitty night of self-pity into a night of pure youthful exuberance.

I will leave it to my readers' imaginations to decide what the bucket of ice was for.

OhMahGah!

2010-11-01T23:05:00.000-07:00

It's November! Which means it's NaBloPoMo again! And since I completely ignored it for the past, what, two years(?), then I will give it a go. I'm pretty sure I'll blow it by Day 3, but I'm nothing if not optimistic.

Let's do this, people. I'm sure Sari is giving it a go. She's crazy like that. And I think I owe you guys a SEX! post. I'll see what I can do about that. The research part should be fun.

Fork in the road

2010-08-23T00:33:00.001-07:00

It's late. I don't know if it's because I'm watching back-to-back episodes of Dexter that's making me a bit morose, but I'm alone with my thoughts and having a tiny freak-out right now.

See, I quit my job last week. I have been working in a totally toxic environment for almost a year and then a week ago, I had had enough. I actually had enough three months ago, but when you're a parent with responsibilities, you can't really say "fuck off" to the boss and bail. Unfortunately. Because that is what I would have loved to do. Instead, I waited for a better moment. For an opening, an opportunity, an escape plan. And what do you know, one fell in my lap.

After some serious thought and a lot of anxiety, I decided to jump head-first into the world of the self-employed. So I gave my notice at my job. I'm excited and totally scared all at the same time. What if I fail? This is the BIG QUESTION that is rattling around in my head. What if I fail. I should be confident in my ability to succeed with this new adventure but to the contrary, I am not. And that scares the shit out of me.

At least I'll have some time to regroup. I am nothing if not a good regrouper. Yes, I just made that word up. Deal with it.

525 days, if you want to be nitpicky

2010-07-09T22:33:00.000-07:00

So, an ex-boyfriend of mine and I recently reconnected on Facebook*. Let's call him Leslie, or "Les" for short. Now don’t go and get all excited, readers. He’s married. But thanks for rooting for me. Really. Yes, he missed out on a great thing with me, but WHATEVER, dude. His loss. Anyhoo, he is an extremely talented writer, and is running full-steam ahead with his writing these days, and aside from writing a top-secret book about his experiences as a male exotic dancer**, he started a blog of his own that he updates between dancing gigs. He’s a bit of a modern-day Renaissance Man, if you will.

He ~~told me about his blog~~ forced me to “like” his blog on Facebook so I did, and then I "unliked" it during an evening of obsessive "unliking". Of course he got his panties all in a wad and threatened me if I ever “unlike” it again. So I am dutifully reading his entries regularly. Turns out, it's actually quite entertaining. (I knew it would be, Les! Thtop being tho thenthitive.) So go check it out if you are so inclined.

But this post isn't about Les. This post is about the unexplained 18 months of silence here at Sveedish. Why am I not writing anymore? I dunno. Why haven't I posted anything since Boog became President of the United States? Dunno that one either, although I don't think that actually happened.

So where do I begin? Do I have to tell you about everything that's happened in the last 18 months? I don't know if I have time for that. I know, I'm not being very helpful. I think I will update you in list form. I'm good at lists.

Things that Eva Has Been Doing Since Last Posting on Her Blog

1. I found a $100 bill on the sidewalk outside my house last summer and bought a used guitar.
2. I have yet to learn to play said used guitar properly, but continue to tell myself that someday I shall.
3. I switched jobs in September, which proved to be quite a fiscally prudent decision on my part. My old job had dwindled to 20 measly hours per week and while I do enjoy being a lady of leisurely afternoons every day, my bank account did not.
4. Boog turned 4 in April. Wanna see a picture? Of course you do.

He's growing up so fast...
I know there's more to the list, but I shant bore you with that. Yet. I will share an amusing anecdote with you this weekend and hopefully get back into the groove with this. Because I do enjoy it so.

Teaser for next post: SEX!

*Which is where I have been living non-stop since dropping off of Blogger. Yes, I am one of THOSE people. But I missed you guys! Hi! Aren't you all on Facebook too anyways? I know that at least six of you are...

** I’m guessing. He won’t leak any information about the book, so I have to assume a few things.

Yes We Can

2009-01-31T00:01:00.001-08:00

Tagged! Ow! (Just kidding, it only hurt a little.)

2009-01-19T21:10:00.000-08:00

A couple of tags that I've ignored long enough...the first is from the lovely Nebraska Girl, who, like me, also belongs to the Single Mommy Club. She's awesome and always has such great posts; heartfelt and honest. (Should I have used a colon there instead of a semi-colon? I was an Accounting major. Help me out, English majors!)

Anyhoo, here was the list of rules from her tag:
1) Choose the 4th folder where you store your pictures on the computer
2) Select the 4th picture in the folder
3) Explain the picture
4) Tag 4 people to do the same

My fourth folder only contained three pictures. The fourth item in the folder was a little video from my old Canon camera. It captured Boog at the height of his fattitude in all his pudgy glory. I was blowing bubbles at him in our old apartment and my ex-husband is filming Boog's reaction.

.

Don't you just want to take a bite out of those Michelin Man arms??? Maybe slice a tiny bit off, saute lightly in a pan and serve with drawn butter?

For that one, I hereby tag
1. Sharilyn
2. Sari
3. Meleah
4. Michael

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next tag was from my old neighbor Sharilyn. I miss her. Hi Sharilyn! How's life over there?

The rules for this one are as follows: list six random or weird facts about yourself, and then tag six others. If memory serves, I think I've done a similar tag once before, so forgive me if I repeat myself. I'm too lazy to find the old post and make sure I don't duplicate. So here goes:

1. I hate whipped cream. My family constantly harasses me about it, like it's sacrilege to the Scandinavian way of life or something.

2. In my pubescent youth, I used to be able to stuff an entire pack of Bubble Yum in my mouth and blow bubbles bigger than my head. I have a picture to prove it.

3. I think Danny Glover is the worst actor in the world. I get physically ill just seeing his name in a preview for a movie.

4. I can write upside down very well. This stems from my years as a math and reading tutor, where we sat across a desk with our student and instructed them from the other side of the worksheet or whatever we were working on.

5. I have bowled a "turkey" (3 strikes in a row) six times in my life. Two of those times were in the tenth frame!

6. I can make my eyes move around independently of each other. This either enthralls my audience or completely grosses them out to the point that they have to look away. I try not to take it personally.

Okay, so I'll tag some o' youse, but I completely understand if you opt out. How about...

1. Sari SockMonkey
2. Nebraska NoLongerAGirl NotYetAWoman
3. TroyBoy (now that you're back from the dead)
4. Sasha ButtonNose
5. Linda Lovelylegs
6. Meleah LotsOfTimeOnMyHands

P.S. Hey! We have a new president!!! w00t!!!

Has It Really Been a Whole Month?!?!?

2008-12-12T23:11:00.000-08:00

So over here at Sveedish HQ, there is much going on. The President and VP went on a trip to the Land Of The Disney, they saw two Christmas Parades, made it through Thanksgiving unscathed, and secured a new location for a larger, improved HQ, which they will be moving into in a little over a week. There is obviously much to share. But first, we dance!

And finally, Blogging Sin #7: Exploiting Your Children For Blog Fodder

2008-11-13T22:10:00.000-08:00

Bonus points for being WAY LATE with said post (i.e. Halloween pictures in the middle of November).

More bonus points if the pictures you post have already been sent to practically every reader of your blog two weeks ago via Picasa. Enjoy! Again!

Blogging Sin #6: Getting All Political on Your Ass

2008-11-03T21:29:00.000-08:00

Actually, there is nothing wrong with political blogs. I'm just not the type to jump on that bandwagon. Mostly because I like to keep my political opinions to myself. My brother and my dad argue EVERY FREAKIN' SUNDAY NIGHT at dinner about how dad should be more Democratic in his political views, and how my brother needs to CALM THE HELL DOWN, DAD IS NEVER GOING TO STOP BEING A REPUBLICAN SO JUST GIVE IT A REST.

I find myself reminding my little brother that the most awesome thing about this country is that people are allowed to have an opinion. And they are allowed to express it as loudly as they'd like. Without fear of imprisonment or death or anything. Isn't that great?

So go out tomorrow and make your voice heard. Vote.

Blogging Sin #5: Dear Diary Dullness

2008-10-23T21:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Last night I dreamt that Rainn Wilson came on to me. And because of the Gobi Desert that is my love life, I responded with the fervor of a sexual zealot. Rainn Wilson, though? Couldn't my subconscious pick someone with a nicer ass?

The dream was a nice break from the dreary days that have swept over October like a black cloud, though. October 5th was the anniversary of me leaving my ex-husband. Don't get me wrong, Diary. The anniversary wasn't really a day of sorrow and regret. It was more of a reflection of the last year of my life and a kind of "course adjustment" of where I'm heading.

Work could really not suck any more that it is sucking this month. It got so bad last week that I actually considered restarting my smoking habit. I have been smoke-free for six years, Diary! And I gaze longingly at the smokers outside the office building, chatting away with others that are on the same nicotine-dispensing schedule as they are. I recall the delicious rush through my limbs to my fingertips and toes after that first drag on the cigarette, and the deep breathing and the relaxation of being away from the office for ten minutes. And then I recall the coughing. The constant coughing. And the smell and the bad breath and the smell and the coughing and the smell. And the addiction that makes you smoke even when you are sick. And then I don't miss smoking anymore. Yay, me!

Then, to stay consistent with the suckiness of October 2008, Boog came down with pneumonia a week ago and has been recovering since then. Thank goodness for my mom - she agreed to watch him during the day so that I can go to work and earn a living. I am so glad that I took him to urgent care last Sunday - otherwise I might have let this go undetected for who knows how long. He's doing fine now, but the side-effects from his antibiotics are preventing him from returning to preschool anytime soon. Poor little man.

Is it November yet?

Blogging Sin #4: Shameless Self-Promotion

2008-10-02T21:57:00.001-07:00

On this day, 39 years ago, Eva was born! Happy Birthday to me! In lieu of presents, feel free to send cash.

Blogging Sin #3: Plagiarism

2008-09-30T15:40:00.000-07:00

I got this email from a co-worker of mine today and wanted to share it with all of you fine people. Because I'm geeky like that.

"The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid term.

The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.'

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+."

Blogging Sin #2: Procrastination

2008-09-26T01:02:00.000-07:00

Basically, more sloth. In disguise! And cuter, don't you think?

Last weekend, I went to Santa Barbara with my brother's fiancee and three other lovely women for a bachelorette party. It is now late Thursday night (technically, I guess it's Friday morning - yes I have insomnia tonight and I have no more bank statements to reconcile, so I must blog! I also don't have cable, which explains why I've been reconciling my bank statements instead of watching the tube. Although Conan is on right now in the background, but never you mind about that. This is now much too long to be parenthetical anymore so I'm going to resume my original sentence. I'll wait while you go find the beginning. Okay? Okay.) and I'm just getting around to organizing my thoughts about the weekend into blog form. How am I doing so far? Wait, don't answer that.

So Santa Barbara: what a beautiful weekend for a trip out of town. Warm, but not hot. Blue skies. Fun company. We went wine tasting, picnicked on a vineyard, and had a driver so that we could taste to our heart's content. Not the driver. The wine. Ha! Wow, I'm amusing at 1:15am. I should blog in the wee hours more often!

Two of the ladies on the trip had the foresight to bring some silly bachelorette accoutrements, which provided endless giggles on the drive back to Santa Barbara after four hours of wine tasting. For example, someone produced a deck of cards that had 52 different images of naked men on them. And yes, we all agreed that naked men are gross. At least naked men that live on the backs of playing cards from 1984.

That night we went out for margaritas and Mexican food. And salsa dancing! My dance partner that evening, Juan, was a great dancer and very patient with White Girl Eva. After a few songs, I picked up some steps and he even spun me around a bit. I am SO going to go salsa dancing again sometime. It was a blast. Ms. Bachelorette had to be dragged off the dance floor at 1 a.m. so that we could get back to our home base.

I don't remember much more. Not because I was drunk, but it was 1:00 a.m. and I'm a mom and I just don't last that long anymore. As soon as we got back to the house we were staying at, I set up my sleeping bag and collapsed into a deep sleep.

Remember in college when it was a weekly occurrence, staying up until 2am or later? Good times.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Blogging Sin #1: Sloth

2008-09-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Here is how lazy I am.

I am so lazy that I can't even re-post an old post to keep my readers from abandoning me. Instead, I'm just posting about how lazy I am by not posting.

Have I lost you yet? Because I think I just lost myself with that last part. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, please explain it to me.

No autographs, please.

2008-09-09T19:45:00.000-07:00

I'm very busy and important. And I'm in a hurry. If I was behind you on the road right now, I would tailgate you and honk impatiently, indicating my desire for you to move out of my way so that I could pass you. Once you obeyed my non-verbal request, I would speed up and as I passed you I would glance over with an irritated look while simultaneously gunning the engine. Then I would cut you off, and immediately slam on the brakes in front of you to pull into a parking lot just ahead. I wouldn't use my turn signal. I would then park in a Compact Only parking space. Backwards. Unevenly.

Grrrr...

2008-09-09T11:45:00.001-07:00

I strongly dislike my ex-husband today. He is being a dick.

Ok, I feel better now. Thanks for reading!

Genetics

2008-09-03T10:22:00.000-07:00

This is me and my brother back in the day. I have this picture hanging in my bathroom with other photos of Boog in the tub, or wrapped in a towel, or in his robe. I'm the one on the left. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking at in this photo, but if memory serves, my brother probably farted in the tub again.

Since Boog was born, I've been told he looks just like me. I can definitely see some similarities. But when he looks at the picture above and I ask him who that is on the left, he says, "Boog!" So I thought I would show you a side-by-side comparison.

What do YOU think?

Is it Just Me?

2008-08-31T00:01:00.000-07:00

...or does everyone call him M. Night Shamalamadingdong?

Just wondering.

Happiness Revisited

2008-08-24T14:51:00.001-07:00

First of all, thanks to those of you who shared your happiness lists for me! And for those of you who didn't, well I know who you are, and you shall be formally reprimanded in triplicate come Monday morning.

The picture in that post has an accompanying song, but it took me FOREVER to find it online. But I am nothing if not persistent. Enjoy!

Spreadin' the Love

2008-08-24T09:38:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite bloggers, Skeeter, says I'm his favorite accountant! Aww, thanks! He also says he loves my blog. See?

So keeping with tradition, I am paying it forward, passing this award to my favorite bloggers:

1. Sari - the second person I befriended in the blogging world, Sari somehow manages to raise three boys AND find time to write everyday! Her observations about the world are always fun or thought provoking. And she loves music, which makes her tops in my book!

2. Michael C. - does this guy really need an introduction? Michael's writing makes me laugh on a daily basis, and I am so grateful for that. Hi 9-volt!

3. Meleah - this hot tamale is a recent blogger discovery of mine. I think she's fantastic. And she apparently shares my love for Macs, although she's a bit more obsessive about it.

4. Sharilyn - my neighbor! Seriously, we share a wall in our apartment building. One evening, I shared with her that I have a blog, and within 24 hours the wonder woman over there had set up one of her own, with photos and her first post! Since then, she has posted every day, often adding beautiful photos she has taken. Her posts remind you of the beauty that this world has to offer if you just stop and look.

5. Employee #3699 - I can't help but appreciate this woman's sense of humor. Plus, she's on the same bandwagon as me: The "Exploit Our Children on our Blog" bandwagon. Hers are grandchildren, but same difference. They're all minors.

You guys are just so awesome. Thanks for making my life that much better.

Outdoorsy Outdoorserson

2008-08-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

This summer, we've been attending weekly outdoor concerts here in Long Beach. It's a popular event, with the Long Beach Municipal Band performing for the crowd.

Hundreds of people come out, toting blankets, chairs and picnic dinners to share a warm evening out in the fresh air. The City of Long Beach turns a blind eye to the fact that wine and beer are consumed, which is probably for the best since our prison system is rather crowded as it is.

It's such a popular community event that people come out at 9am that morning to stake their claim to a primo spot near the band. My mom, the trooper, gets our tarp down at 9:30, so we have a nice position a ways back from the band's speakers. The band is over by the palm trees on the right side of the picture:

Each week was a different musical "theme": big band swing night, western theme (remember the William Tell Overture, anyone?), International Music night (French, Norwegian, Italian, German). One night, they even had a local singer come out and sing some standards for us, including lots of Sinatra and the like.

Having little faith in Boog's tolerance for remaining in the vicinity of our tarp for more than an hour, I was a bit nervous during our first evening out. But guess what? He was perfectly content to nibble on the food we had set out on our little "table", and people-watch with the rest of us:

Alas, their concert series came to a close two weeks ago. But another band, The Elm Street Band, passed out fliers at the last performance, letting us know that they would be holding an outdoor concert too. So after work, as usual, Boog and I headed over to my parents' house and we all walked over to the park with our picnic accoutrement. As always, I think Boog felt quite at home:

I highly recommend these types of events, as they involve music, family and food. And they're outside! And for those of you, like me, that are air-conditionally challenged (read: only have fans at home), this is a plus. I'm already looking forward to next summer!

Happiness

2008-08-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

Michael C and I were having an email conversation about happiness today. That it is a great thing to have! Duh, right? So then I asked him to list three sources of happiness for him this morning. His list was this:

1. My twins- they make everything brighter, just like the Brady Bunch sang about.

2. I finally had a good day at work where I didn’t spend all day giving my cubicle walls the evil eye, which they ignored anyway. Those fools!

3. Waking up with a new blog idea this morning.

He asked me the same question. Here's mine:

1. Boog’s smile when I woke him up this morning singing “Good Morning” from the movie Singin’ in the Rain.

2. Seeing a fire engine AND an ambulance down the street from Boog’s daycare and having enough time to stop and watch them for a while. Boog went totally BONKERS when I pointed them out.

3. Listening to my favorite retro-80s radio channel on iTunes all morning on my computer.

(And my bonus happiness: I’m wearing my red shoes today.)

So what are three sources of happiness for you today? Recounting them will make you happy all over again, I promise!

Meleah and Her Main Squeeze

2008-08-11T22:01:00.000-07:00

Macs Rule! And so do their owners. Behold, a genius at work:

You should pay her a visit over at her blog. She's a good read!

TMI

2008-08-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

Nothing says "Good Morning Monday!" quite like finding two flies copulating on your windshield as you depart for work in your car.

Question

2008-08-09T15:01:00.000-07:00

I met him online. He's funny. He seems to think I'm funny. We share stories and we get to know each other.

Have any of you ever developed an Internet crush on someone? I would love to hear some anecdotes about this phenomenon, because it's a first for me. Unless you call Ryan Reynolds an Internet crush. In which case, this is my second.

Just Another Day in Paradise

2008-07-29T22:47:00.000-07:00

In case you don't see/read/hear (feel?/smell? I don't want to make any of the senses feel left out) the news, we had an earthquake today! Wheeee!

Actually, not so wheee, since this was the first one for me as a mommy. There I was, ~~working~~ sitting at my desk when the shaking began. And if you live in California, you know what happens then. You think to yourself, "Ummmm...is a huge truck driving into our building or is this an earthquake?" And then you wait for it to be over in a second and a half.

When it continues, your brain shifts gears. "Ok. Earthquake. Let's do this!" And your years of early training in elementary school pay off as you robotically walk to the nearest doorjam. Doorjamb? Door jam. And you ride it out.

This one lasted like five hours. No, that's not right. Two? No. Probably about 10 seconds, but with an earthquake safe building, this means you roll around and sway from side to side for an extra minute. My sweet co-worker from Turkey looked like she was either going to barf or need assistance with her journey to the nearest loony bin. There is always a "first timer" in the bunch.

When the building stopped swaying, I hugged my freaked-out Turkish co-worker, went to my desk, grabbed my purse, keys and phone and left with a quick "I'm going to get my son," which I said over my shoulder as the door was closing behind me. I heard my boss shout, "Don't just check on him - take him with you!" Boog is in daycare about 0.8 miles from the office, so in my car it takes me under five minutes from the office door to the daycare's door. I was the first parent "on the scene." Wow, that sounds so dramatic! Like I'm a paramedic responding to a distress call or something! Cool. I'm using that more often.

I walk in and the caregivers are pacing around with phones to their ears. The head woman (we'll call her MarshaMarshaMarsha) mouths a "hello" to me and I scan the room for Boog. All the kids are preparing for nap time, laying on their respective mats, some already asleep and the rest in various states of consciousness. I spot Boog in the middle of the room, hunched over what appears to be dirt that had been tracked in on someone's shoe from outside. He's pushing a clump of dirt back and forth with his little finger, completely engrossed.

So basically, aside from the flurry of phone calls, everyone seems unfazed. Un-fazed? I'm having spelling issues today.

Boog sees me and jumps up with a delighted squeal and "Mommy!" and runs over to let me wrap him in a tight hug. MarshaMarshaMarsha gives me the lowdown on what happened: everyone is fine, nothing fell off shelves or whatever, the news says there might be more, and Boog was laughing the whole time it was happening.

Like he's Mr. Adrenaline Rush or something. Thoughts of a future Boog bungee-jumping off some remote New Zealand bridge flood my mind. Then he's off to Colorado to shoot the rapids in a kayak, stopping only to base jump off Half Dome in Yosemite.

We left in my car and headed back to the office. Here's my reasoning for this:
(a) there is a very small chance that there will be another one today;
(b) it's air conditioned;
(c) it's safer in that building than my apartment building (I'm quite certain);
and (d) it's air conditioned. Oh did I use that one already?

I park the car and we head inside. He is greeted with the happy excitement that usually ensues when we visit Mommy's office. He makes a beeline for Brad's office, which is the place where the slinky, stress ball, orange fish and tiny globe live. I make sure he isn't bothering Brad and settle back at my desk to make some calls and update Rob on where we are/how we are doing.

So that's basically it, I guess. Just another day in paradise, as the title says. We all had In-n-Out Burger for lunch, Boog included, and I was able to actually get Boog down for a nap in my office for two and a half hours! He snored loudly in the corner, with a cozy towel wrapped around him like a burrito. I got some work done, and managed to fit in lots of personal emailing without anyone noticing. Looking back on the day, I would have to say it was pretty great. Is that odd? I think it's because having Boog within arm's reach for the afternoon made me extremely happy. And if you knew about the crazy night I had prior to this day, you would understand.

But that's another post altogether.

With Tongue

2008-07-20T22:15:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamt that I kissed Seal. He was a REALLY good kisser. And Heidi Klum was totally okay with it.

Boys

2008-07-19T18:08:00.000-07:00

My mom and I sat and watched Boog playing quietly with his little school bus and bus riders...

Mom: "Aww...look how cute he is, playing so sweetly with those little people."

Me: "Awww."

Boog was removing all the passengers from the school bus, including the driver, and placing them gently on the carpet.

Then he lifted up the bus and SLAMMED IT DOWN ONTO THE LITTLE PEOPLE. Over and over again.

Office Chatter

2008-07-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

Ally: “Hey Eva, guess what today is?”

Eva: “Um, your half-birthday?”

Ally: “No…”

Eva: “Um, your parents’ anniversary?”

Ally: “No…”

Eva: “Um, your 2 year anniversary at this company?”

Ally: “No…”

Eva: “Um, your 3 year anniversary at this company?”

Ally: “No…”

Eva: “Um, your 4 year anniversary at this company?”

Ally: “No…”

Eva: “I’m running out of guesses.”

Ally: “It’s actually something that both you and I are involved in.”

Eva: “Um, oh! Is it National Take Off Your Bra and Don’t Wear A Bra To Work Day?”

Ally: “No. …it’s payday, Eva.”

Eva: “Oh.”

New Beginnings

2008-07-12T23:04:00.000-07:00

And so my journey through the alphabet comes to a close. It's been an interesting project to play with and distract myself with. I re-read a few of them recently and realized that I really don't get too personal with all of you readers. Which I suppose is for the best, but tonight I'll let you in on a small piece of Personal Eva.

On last Tuesday night, I wrote an email to a friend, part of which read as follows:

"I am sitting here feeling rather odd, and I know it's some strange thing associated with the events that are taking place tomorrow morning. I find it impossible to write anything, so I just sit here, staring at my screen, willing an email to come and distract me. And I run the rounds through my favorite blogs, chastising myself for not reading something important. When is the last time I picked up a damn newspaper? I don't know why I'm concerning myself with my lack of intellectual stimulation right now. I guess it's just more desire for distraction..."

The following morning at 9am, I was at the Orange County courthouse to appear before a judge that would finalize the "marriage dissolution" between myself and Rob. I arrived with some discomfort about how I would feel during the next hour of my day. I came alone, not wanting this to be a "shared moment" with anyone else in my life. Outside the courtroom I met my attorney. As previously agreed, she and I went over the questions she would be asking me in front of the judge; all of which pertain to the fact that the marriage is irreconcilable, that we've agreed to split our assets as stated in the judgment, that no amount of counseling will solve anything, etc.

We were moved to a different courtroom due to our scheduled judge being absent that day. The new judge needed to review the documents before swearing me in. In the interim, he closed a couple of other cases on the agenda. A woman around my age was sworn in and was asked the same questions as I had been briefed on. The judge approved the petition for divorce and sent her back to the seats in the rear of the courtroom. She sat down next to me and started to sniffle and choke back a few sobs. I placed my hand on her arm and told her that it was going to be okay, and that she wasn't alone. I don't know if that was a dumb thing to say, but I found myself becoming sad for her. She said that it was for the best and that now she can get on with her life.

I was struck with a moment of terror - would I start sobbing in front of the judge? I really didn't know how I was going to react to the finality of this divorce that began back in October. I decided that I would just remove my emotion from the process and hope for the best.

The judge excused himself and went to his chambers to review the cases that had been moved from the other courtroom (ours included). My attorney came over to me (she had been sitting up front with the other attorneys) and sat down to make small talk. I asked her if she ever took vacations, figuring that this would distract from the task at hand and further my goal of remaining unattached to the proceedings. She talked about going to San Diego at the end of the month to attend Comicon, AKA NerdFest 2008.

This was perfect. I was delighted that my attorney was such an odd character, vacationing in San Diego for Comicon, and, from a previous conversation months ago, loves to see Wicked The Musical over and over and over again. Even better, I found myself totally at peace with what was soon to transpire.

The judge came back, and after one other case, we were called up. I sat at the table with my attorney and stood up to get sworn in. Did you know that they don't make you put your hand on a Bible? Is that just in the movies? Anyhoo, my attorney asked all the questions and I said "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, No, etc." and then we were done. The judge granted the divorce, I said goodbye to my attorney, and she stayed behind to wait for the documents to be processed.

I left the courtroom and made my way towards the escalator to take me downstairs and out of the building. You know how sometimes you experience a rare moment in your life where you are completely "in the moment", taking everything in, committing it to memory and utilizing all of your senses to do so? Wednesday morning, riding down the escalator was one of those moments. I realized that I felt an extraordinary sense of relief. And closure. And then something surprised me. I felt happy.

And that made me smile.

Z is for Zane Grey

2008-07-12T22:36:00.000-07:00

My old college roomie Gloria is one of my top five friends in the world. She is fun, brilliant, goofy, and a perfect hostess. On occasion, I find myself with a Boog-free weekend. Boog's dad will have him for a weekend with his parents, and I will have time to have a lazy sleepover with Glo at her house.

She loves having guests and I always feel like I'm spending a weekend at a Bed & Breakfast. She and her fiance Steve feed me dinner, fill me with wine and good, grown-up conversations, I collapse in a private room with private bath and sleep for hours and hours with no alarm or child to disturb my sweet, sweet slumber. Then I wander downstairs and once everyone's awake, we have breakfast and cappuccinos and healthy smoothies. And then we waste a whole day just hanging out together, with either retail therapy or a trip to the botanical gardens or whatever.

And by the way: Gloria and Steve live in the historic Zane Grey Estate.

22,000 square feet of amazing room after amazing room. And it's all so unassuming that it's easy to get accustomed to being there very quickly. We usually eat in the kitchen and then we "retire" to the living room where there is a big fireplace, a sofa and some comfy armchairs. And a kitty that makes himself at home in your lap. I find myself forgetting that I'm in this crazy big house made from poured concrete because the wife of the first owner was petrified of fires.

I remember Gloria taking me on a tour of the house the first time I visited her there. It took about an hour. Here's a partial picture of the "West Wing" taken from the back of the main house:

They just planted a mini vineyard in the back, as you can see at the bottom right of the picture above. The property is so large that they can only afford to tackle one project at a time, most recently the roof and the enormous expense of repairing it. This weekend they are having an estate sale, selling big roomfuls of stuff that they've spent the past couple of years clearing out as they work from room to room.

I love visiting that place, mostly because Gloria lives there, but also because really people: how often can you take advantage of such an opportunity? And also, it gives me an appreciation for my tiny one-bedroom apartment and the simplicity that accompanies it.

Y is for Yesteryear

2008-07-03T23:16:00.000-07:00

I should discontinue sharing the musical journeys of my past. Perhaps I scared some of you away with the LA punk scene? Except for Skeeter. Hi Skeeter! Or maybe you're all enjoying your July 4th weekends sans computers! Happy 4th, everybody!

So let's take a journey of another sort. One with a picture and one with a post.

Here's a picture I have in my apartment, of my dad and me outside our cabin in Norway, circa Summer 1970.

And here's an old post that I dug up about Boog from December 2006.

Stay tuned for the final post in my alphabet series: "Z"!!!

X is for X

2008-07-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

At the tender age of 17, the summer after graduating high school, my friend Gail dated a cute punker from Long Beach. And since she and I were attached at the hip, I was paired with his buddy Brent. It was through them that I was exposed to the L.A. punk band X. I still listen to my double album "Los Angeles/Wild Gift" and feel 17 again, with no responsibilities, no sense of mortality and no respect for authority. I never lived the punk lifestyle, but I'll be damned if this band didn't rock my world that summer.

W is for World of the Sea (aka SeaWorld!)

2008-06-24T22:02:00.000-07:00

Boog and I went to Sea World two weeks ago! He had a blast. So did I!

Before our big day, he was given a little monkey "backpack", which is a toddler-leash in disguise. Go ahead and comment on how cruel this device is, I don't care. I didn't lose him, now did I?

He sat so still during all of the shows. During the dolphin show ("doffin show!") he sat on my lap with his hand stuffed in his mouth, he was that excited.

He decided that it would be more prudent to go see the shark exhibit first, and then go to the Sea Lion & Otter show. That way we wouldn't feel too rushed.

He stayed awake as long as his little body could manage. I was impressed that he held out as long as he did! 5pm with no nap! Well done, Boog!

V Revisited: V is for Variety

2008-06-23T17:57:00.000-07:00

While running through alphabet-inspired posts, I keep stumbling over a variety of ideas for new material, but put them on the back burner of my mind since they lack the appropriate letter that would propel them to stardom. The back burner of my mind is getting a bit cluttered, to say the least. So in an effort to do some light housekeeping, I shall perform a clean sweep, hopefully ending this cursed bout of writer's block.

~~Stealing~~ Respectfully borrowing from a dear blogger friend's routine theme, I am hereby submitting some random thoughts:

• I was on my way to finding a parking spot for my car while I spent an afternoon on the beach, when I stopped at Jack-in-the-Box to get a nice frosty cold beverage. It got me to thinking about drinking straws. How brilliant is the drinking straw? Who figured out that instead of lifting a big heavy cup to your lips to drink, you could leave it sittign on the table, stick a tube into the liquid and sip it with as little effort as possible? And the crazy straw? Genius. I can remember as a child how much more enticing it was to drink a glass of milk when I got to watch it make its curly journey to my mouth. I'll bet a mom with a stubborn toddler invented that one. Some Cliff Claven trivia for you: The straw was invented in 1888. Learn something new every day, don't you?

• Southern California has been in the throes of a heat wave for the better part of a week. It's rather remarkable how different the world is when it's hot. For example, why does the rising temperature bring out the worst in people? I find my patience evaporates quickly, people's tempers boil over, not even allowing time to stew. Everywhere I turn, I witness heated arguments. Okay, I'm done with the puns. ... Hot-heads abound. (Okay, I'm done for real now.) I live on the second floor of a west-facing apartment building. For those of you who are directionally challenged, this means my living room gets ALL the afternoon sun. And coming home from work in the early evening is the earthly equivalent to vacationing in one of the circles of hell from Dante's Inferno. This past weekend, I seriously considered selling my computer to buy an air conditioner.

• When your boss is out of the office for a few days, do you find yourself slacking off? Not even a tiny bit? I had some relaxing days at work last week while my boss was vacationing on her ranch. It felt like a tiny vacation of my own, in a way. But not really. I mean, I'm still the one sitting on my ass in front of a computer, right?

• My car has been acting up lately. It does this weird lurching thing when I accelerate sometimes. In the past week, it has occurred with greater frequency. Am I the only one that pretends not to notice these little inconveniences in one's life? My relationship with my car is such a unique one. It's so one-sided. The car gives and gives, and I just take and take, for the most part. I try to take good care of it - I take it to the mechanic for regular servicing, I change the oil every 5000 miles, if not sooner. I wash it and clean the trash out of it. I sing to it (okay, that's more singing to myself, if you want to get technical about it) and sometimes I even talk to it, lovingly patting its dash in an encouraging manner. In return, my car has been good to me. Until now. So I did what any self-sufficient woman with limited funds would do in my position: I put more oil in it. You know, lube it up a bit. That's what she said. And believe it or not, so far so good. Lube: Works every time. That's what she said.

• Finally, I'm trying my hand at "That's what she said". How am I doing?

• Oh. And then there's this:

V is for Venomous

2008-06-13T00:21:00.000-07:00

I do have another "V" post in mind, but for now, I have to vent to the Internets about my disgust with the show TMZ. I'm not even going to link to it, this is how disgusted I am. I watched 10 minutes of that show tonight. The people who work there are HORRIBLE HUMAN BEINGS with no sense of respect for others. I wonder if it makes them feel good about themselves. It would be the only good that ever came of that show. They should be ashamed of themselves. It's not just gossip, it's downright meanness. I put my remote to good use and changed the channel.

End of rant.

U is for Undercover Agents Underground

2008-06-06T21:12:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I surpassed the 1000 mark in how many times I have read the Backyardigans "A is for Adventure" book to the Boog. I exaggerate, but not by much. In the last two months, something extraordinary has happened - Boog is actually paying attention to what I am saying when I hold a book in front of his face! He repeats stuff and he points to stuff and names it or asks the name of it. I am delighted with this new turn of events.

Up until this point, our bedtime book ritual involved me picking out a book from his bookshelf, sitting in the glider with him, and beginning to read from page one. Not three words into the page, Boog impatiently flips the page. Okay... I begin to read from that page. Flip! Then I decide that I will just entertain myself instead of getting annoyed at the lack of personal closure that I feel when reading every word on the page. I try to speed-read as much as I can before he flips the page again. He counters with faster flipping. Wheeeeeee!

But now? Now he wants to pick out the books himself from the shelf. He climbs into my lap and hands me the book and we read it. And he points to things and proudly proclaims his knowledge of what it is. And he inquires about objects that he can't quite remember, "Whassdat, Mommy?" And we read books about the alphabet, and he points to the letters that he knows. It makes me a bit verklempt, actually. Side note: Go here for a good flashback of laughs!

I have loved books for as long as I can remember. My mom tells me stories about how when I was three, I used to bring five or six books to bed with me to read, and before lying down to sleep I would neatly stack the books on the table next to my crib. In junior high, I was obsessed with Sweet Dreams romance novels and would stay up until 4am, just to finish the book, or pass out with my face in it, whichever came first. Thankfully, my taste in reading matured with time, but my habit of reading into the wee hours of the morning remained. I lost count on how many times I stumbled into work or school with less than two hours of sleep, and not because I was out carousing the night before, either!

It seems to be one of the many joys of parenthood for me: watching Boog's love for books grow over time. I am so excited to see what the future holds for him.

T is for Teenagers from Sweden!

2008-06-03T22:30:00.000-07:00

My "S" post should really have been about Sweden. After all, Norway got its day in the sun, right? Oh well, bygones. What's important is that as of last night, we have three visitors from Sweden! They'll be here for a couple of weeks, staying at my parents' house for most of it.

I have two cousins in this world. Two. They are my mom's sister's children. They both live in southern Sweden in or near my mom's hometown of Simrishamn. How cute is Simrishamn, by the way? The town is storybook cute, people. Cobblestone streets? Check. Adorable hundred year-old houses lining the promenade in town? Check. The whole European sidewalk cafe action? Check. I haven't been there since 1998, when my grandmother turned 80. The teenagers that are visiting us now were 8 and 3(4?) years old the last time I saw them. I always love visiting my family there. I envy those of you who grew up in the same city/state/country as your relatives. It would have been so great to grow up with them and have close relationships with them! I'm fairly close with my female cousin, but only because she came over here a few times as an adult, the last time staying with me for a couple of weeks. The visitors this time are the wife and kids of my male cousin.

We don't correspond much - and it's not because of any language barrier. Those kids speak English like pros! But it's usually birthday and Christmas cards and that's about it. Since Boog was born, they've been sending him clothes and toys and sweet cards in the mail. The 18 year-old has a Facebook page, which allows me and her to send messages back and forth on occasion. So that's been fun, and has been a great place for us to get more acquainted.

So after work today, Boog and I went over to my parents' house to join them all for dinner. It is only the beginning of two crammed weeks of fun with these guys. We're going to Sea World this Saturday. It's a perfect place that can accommodate teenagers and boogs alike. And we haven't been in about 18 months, so I think Boog will enjoy himself.

Part of their visit coincides with Boog staying with his dad, so while I am going to miss my sweet boy more than anything, it will free up my evenings for movies and late nights and even a weekend trip to Magic Mountain! I haven't been to that park in over ten years, and cannot WAIT! I am hoping that I am so busy that time flies and Boog is back in my arms in what seems like only a short moment.

And all of this activity is certain to create memories to blog about and photos to post!

S is for Summer

2008-06-01T20:36:00.000-07:00

Boog and I finally kicked off our summer (properly) this weekend! Memorial Day weekend was a dud as far as summer days go. Rainy, cold, overcast days - totally inappropriate beach weather! But this weekend? This weekend was GORGEOUS.

Boog loves being at the beach. He loves the sunshine, the sand, all of the people, the waves. He loves all that space to run around and just be a crazy Boog without bumping into anything. I love the beach too. It is what I missed the most when I lived in Northern California. Now we live a mile from the coast, and couldn't be happier. I'm looking forward to perfecting our sand castles, having tan lines, finding sand all over the car, inside our shoes, in my bags and in Boog's diapers. It is a part of summers in Southern California that I hold dear in my heart and memory.

Happy Summer of 2008 everyone! Enjoy the moments!

R is for Recreation

2008-05-21T21:39:00.000-07:00

I am in dire need of a vacation. I just realized this on Monday. Let's backtrack and travel back in time...to last Friday. [Insert Wayne and Garth going-back-in-time squiggly noises here]

My company was to be a sponsor at a conference on Monday. On Friday, we were wrapping up the preparations. The boss was out of town, so we wanted to take care and not forget anything. We made a list. We checked it twice....

....gonna find out who's naughty or nice.... [sorry, I could not resist that one]

I delegated stuff. My staff finished it all with time to spare. My boss and Ally (one of the staff) would be going to the hotel on Sunday evening to set up our table in the conference room. The flower arrangement was picked up on schedule on Saturday. Things were going swell.

But no, it wasn't meant to last, this swell going. I got a call from Ally. "Boss wants to know why we laminated the brochure." "Um, because she asked us to?" "No, she said she only asked us to laminate the handout for the panel." "Uh, well what now then?" "She wants to talk to you. Hold on a sec."

"Eva? Do you know how much money we wasted on this? These are unusable and now we don't have brochures for the table."

The next call was an hour later. "Eva, we are the only table without a sign. Did we not request that the event planners make us a sign? Everyone else did." "No, I sent the logo in months ago for that." "Well, there's no sign. Fortunately, so-and-so says they can run to Kinko's and have one made for us in time for tomorrow morning." "Well that's a relief."

The next morning: "Eva, these handouts for the panel don't have our phone number or website URL on them. I am having a heart attack. How did this happen? This is not the version of the document that I approved. These handouts cost a fortune and nobody is going to know who we are now!" "Oh my God, I have no idea how that could have happened. I sent the corrections to the graphic designer and she sent the final version back to me. I checked the corrections and it looked good." "Well, this conference is turning into a total fiasco and it's all your fault."

Actually, that last part isn't what she said at all, but I basically decided that it was time to lose my marbles. You know how sometimes everything goes wrong? And since you're in charge of delegating everything, it's basically your responsibility? This is one of those times. But since I'm not a Quitter, I had to suck it up and just get through the day. With the help of a LOT of chocolate.

And after making it through the day and choking back some tears for a couple of minutes, I decided that I need a vacation where Boog and I actually GO somewhere. Not the lame vacation where you just stay home and do stuff that you usually do on weekends anyway. The kind where you pack a swim suit and sunscreen and maybe a guide book. And you reserve seats on an airplane. And you book a hotel room and when you land at your destination, you have to set your watch back three hours.

Unfortunately, the current state of my finances does not allow for such a destination until the fall, when I am hopefully getting a rather large sum of money for referring some business to an old colleague of mine. Cross your fingers, everyone!

In the meantime, this long weekend will involve a swim suit and sunscreen anyway. After all, I am in beautiful and sunny Southern California! Have a happy Memorial Day, everyone!

Q is for Quitters

2008-05-15T21:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the most grueling training session at the gym EVER IN MY LIFE.

But I got through it! I survived the test of endurance! This experience with having a personal trainer is making me learn quite a bit about myself: something I never considered to be a part of the equation. And the more I think about it, the more I feel that I don't know myself very well anymore.

I'm one of those people that adapts easily to whatever situation or group I encounter. If I'm around a bunch of girls, I tend to act girly and showcase my girly side. If I'm around guys, I let my tomboy surface. At work, I'm professional, yet goofy to keep the office from getting too stuffy. With Boog, I am Mommy and we talk in words for two year olds, we play silly games and make each other laugh and I am constantly enforcing boundaries that need to be enforced. With my parents, I remain the fairly well-behaved girl that they've known forever. But with all these personas, who am I when I'm just with me and myself?

I'm figuring it out. My sense of self-worth is growing as my body gets stronger. I have a sense of pride in knowing that I did my best and pushed myself until I could go no further. My trainer Audrey is helping me realize just how far I am actually able to go if I just give it that extra push, or those last three reps, or those last ten seconds. Just groan a little louder and find that last ounce of energy somewhere deep inside yourself. I have started applying this "extra push" to other aspects of my life: my patience, my willpower, my approach to work, trying to think positive.

It's a work in progress, but hey, it's MY work in progress, and it feels really good to have a focused sense of personal direction again. And "quitting" is no longer in my vocabulary.

P is for Poop

2008-05-13T20:37:00.000-07:00

I tried to think of a better subject for this post, really I did. But after four days of taking care of a toddler with the stomach flu, it is quite impossible to think of anything else. Except for barf.

I am so sorry. My apologies to the childless readers of this blog. I hope you ate already.

Happy Mother's Day!

2008-05-11T23:03:00.001-07:00

Just taking a brief break from the alphabet routine to wish all you mommies out there a very Happy Mother's Day. I hope you all had some wonderful moments with your children.

O is for Overbooked

2008-05-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

For the past few days, I have been laboring over a major friend faux-pas that I committed on Sunday. I didn't realize that I had material for a post until I was doing the dishes tonight. Read on, fellow parents! I am sure you have lived through the same exact scenario (which may or not involve IKEA).

But first, a little history to make this post super long (the Norway post has me reminiscing about all sorts of stuff). I have a dear friendship that dates all the way back to high school, circa 1985. He, let's call him Chester, because that's his name! Haha! Chester! Tee hee. Ahem. Actually, everyone calls him Chet (you may begin your flashbacks to Weird Science now). He played trombone in the band, and I was a flag twirler in Colorguard. His best friend began dating one of my best friends. He developed a crush on me and asked me out. We went out. He was way too intellectual for boy-crazy Eva, let me tell you. I'll give you an example. He didn't like going to the movies with me because "we can't talk if we're watching a movie. I'd rather sit and talk with you." What? Are you insane? We're in high school, our hormones are raging OUT OF CONTROL and you don't want to sit in a dark place rubbing elbows with a cute girl who loves making out with boys?!?! I thought Chet was strange, to say the least.

But oddly enough, we stayed friends through the years. We tried dating again after high school and were quite fond of each other, but the chemistry was a bit off. He transferred to a university in northern California and we kept in touch. I visited him up there once, and we made it a habit to get together for a meal or a nice chat during the holidays. He moved to Japan to teach conversational English and we had the most wonderful correspondence. He was the best pen pal I have ever had. At one point, we even sent cassette tapes back and forth, with audio letters to each other. I wish I had saved them - I have no idea where they went. He was over there for years, returning to northern California to complete his Masters degree in English and then back to Japan again. He knocked up his long-term girlfriend and they got married. He became father to a beautiful baby girl.

A year or so later, he moved his little family back to the U.S. I was up north by then, living near Berkeley. We resumed our "visit while we're in town" routine and I acquainted myself with this new little person in his life. My little family moved down here to southern California in December of 2006. I thought it would be so great to reconnect and be close again, but alas, Chet was going through a rough patch in life and dropped out of sight. After countless attempts on my part to get together, I gave up and reluctantly wrote him off.

A few weeks after I left Rob, I was driving back to my parents' house following an afternoon of packing my things at the old apartment. I got a call from Chet and after hearing that his rough patch was over and being relieved that he called, I spilled my whole story about what my life was like at the time. And ever since then, we've spoken or seen each other at least once a week. Something about our separate difficulties has brought us closer, and I'm so grateful for his friendship.

So we had been playing phone tag last week, trying to nail down some time to meet and maybe share a meal with our kids. We decided that a Sunday morning breakfast would do nicely. We agreed to meet at 9:30 at the Seal Beach Pier. He called that morning to say he was running a bit late and could we postpone about an hour? So I said, "That's fine. How about we meet for lunch instead, and in the meantime I'll head to IKEA since I need to do that today anyway."

"Great," he said. "See you at 11:30. Let's meet at the entrance to the pier."

My mom tagged along to IKEA, and we let Boog try out all the mattresses and sit in all the chairs and hold the big rolling shade that I bought for his room, which was quite comical, the shade being 6 feet long and all. My phone apparently rang at 11:30, and I later heard the message that Chet left: "Hey, we're here! We'll wait another 5 minutes or so, and then head out to the end of the pier to the restaurant to get us all a table." My mom and I got to the car to load our purchases in the trunk when I noticed that it was five minutes to twelve. I called Chet. "Hi, I am so sorry, we are just leaving IKEA, and our time totally got away from us." He said no problem, that they were going to just go ahead and order and maybe we can try again some other time.

I felt just awful. I should not have gone to IKEA, I should have just spent the morning puttering around the house or going for walk with Boog, right? But I just have to squish every single errand and social event into my weekend, leaving no margin for error.

I called him two days later and left a voice mail apologizing profusely, admitting that I had made a big mistake thinking I could fit IKEA into my morning, and that I totally disrespected his valuable time. "I totally understand if you don't want to call me back right away, and that you just want to stew about my rudeness for a couple of weeks."

He returned my call that night. He was touched that I felt so bad, but told me that we are both parents and we have both been there. "No worries!"

Well, despite this ending on a good note, I really have scolded myself to not repeat that if at all possible. I will not overbook. I will not overbook. I will not overbook.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to do about ninety-five things before Boog wakes up from his nap.

N is for Norway

2008-05-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

Did you know I'm half Norwegian? I know the "sveedish" bit is self-explanatory, but my dad is an Oslo native. I've been there quite a few times in my life, and let me tell you, it is an amazing country. Behold:

I mean, seriously people. Fjords! Imagine standing there seeing it for yourself. The kind of beauty that makes you gasp in awe of nature.

When I was seven, my family moved to Sweden, to a city just west of Stockholm, called Vasteras. During the eighteen or so months that we lived there, we visited my grandparents in southern Sweden often, and we also drove over to Norway to visit his mom and spend time in my dad's cabin that he inherited from his family. It was a tiny rustic cabin with an outhouse and a wood-burning stove that heated the whole cabin. I remember my dad and brother digging a new hole for the outhouse every time we stayed there. I remember dad getting up at 5am to light a fire in the wood stove so that the cabin would be cozy and warm when we all got up later in the morning. I remember the poofy down comforters that we snuggled under when spending a winter vacation there, and I remember our day hikes around the surrounding mountainside picking buckets full of wild blueberries.

My brother and I had a ball at that cabin. Once during a winter visit, it snowed so much that we had to dig ourselves out of the cabin one morning. Cliff and I spent the day digging tunnels in the snow, and little "caves" in the tall snowdrifts against the cabin walls. Like snow forts!

And the buckets of wild blueberries? We would bring them back to the cabin and eat them with cream. Blueberries the size of marbles.

M is for Meme (more of a game, actually)

2008-05-06T20:47:00.000-07:00

I was surfin' around, popping in on BeanieSue's site after she left a helpful comment on my L post (hi BeanieSue!). She had a cool game that involves Flickr.

Here’s the game:
- Go to Flickr
- Type your answer into the “search” box.
- Pick an image from the first page.
- Copy and paste answer into blog

[I actually picked the first picture in each search, and didn't realize you could pick from the first PAGE, but that's typical Eva, not following directions]

My name is:

My relationship status is:

My favorite color is:

My celebrity crush is (yowza!):

My favorite princess is:

My favorite adult beverage is:

My dream vacation:

When I grow up I want to be:

L is for Loud

2008-05-03T21:51:00.000-07:00

I live in a nice, quiet apartment building. My neighbors in the building are friendly, and keep to themselves for the most part. I have a one-bedroom apartment, with Boog sleeping in the bedroom in the back, and I sleep on the sofa bed in the living room. If I could afford it, I'd live in a two bedroom, believe me. And if Boog didn't snore so freakin' loud, I would share the bedroom with him.

The problem isn't the sleeping arrangements. It's the sonofabitch who lives in the building next door. About five feet from our back windows are the neighboring building's back windows. And in the apartment directly across from our back windows lives Mr. Gangsta Rap.

Word.

He is the kind of neighbor you wish you never have to be exposed to. The guy leaves his window open ALL THE TIME. So when he's hitting his bong and listening to foul mouthed [c]rap, I can both smell and hear the experience first hand. And when he's struck closing-time gold at the local dive bar, I get to hear his exploits with the Skank o' The Evening. He gets a call on his celly? He has the consideration to stand right up at the window to have his conversation as close to my window as possible so as to allow me to hear every word spoken.

One night, he was playing his music so loud that Boog was unable to fall asleep. I yelled out my window for him to turn it down. No response (probably because he couldn't hear me over the music). So I went over there and knocked on his door for five minutes. The coward never answered his door. He finally turned his music off and left the apartment around 10pm, and I put Boog back down in his crib where he promptly passed out. Thankfully.

I don't want Boog exposed to this foul human being, but there's nowhere to escape it unless we stay in the front room. I've considered calling the city, or the police, but I feel like there are worse issues that occupy the police department's time. Once the Boog is old enough to ask questions, I hope that this is no longer a problem.

Any advice?

K is for Kodak Moment

2008-05-02T22:28:00.000-07:00

I was looking at my profile picture and decided it's time for a change. That picture is from, like, FIVE years ago. But then I thought, it's actually a rather goofy picture, but nobody can tell because I cropped the hell out of it. A friend of mine up in Calgary asked me what I am doing in the photo, and I explained that I was rocking out next to my friend KCMO, who dj's at home for fun. And then I thought, well I'll just send her the whole picture so she can see herself.

So I think I'll keep the profile pic as is, and share the whole picture with you guys!

I guess this post stems from my feeling self-conscious about joking that I was an exotic dancer in my profile, and now wondering if that was a stupid idea. I'm not an exotic dancer, I'm an accountant. But that isn't quite as intriguing, somehow. Unless you think number crunching is hot.

J is for Joke

2008-05-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

My favorite joke was told to my by one of my favorite people in the world. You are required to tell this joke in a game-show host voice, similar to that of Guy Smiley on Sesame Street.

What do you call a midget psychic that just robbed a bank?

~ A small medium at large!

Do you have a joke you'd like to share? And as a side note: blond jokes and dirty jokes do not offend me, so feel free.

I is for Incredibly Cute

2008-04-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. The whole letters thing is getting tiresome. But I really can't stop now, can I? I mean, how big of a loser would I be if I just stopped at "H"? And it's kind of helpful to me to just think of some word that starts with the letter of the post and go from there. Who knows where these letters can take you? Am I right ladies?

Aaaaaanyhoo. Boog got a little robe for his birthday and asked to wear it after his bath last week. Once I got it all situated on him, I remarked at how dashing he looked in his big boy robe. He said, "Picture?" But of course, my sweet boy!

Every night since then, after his bath, he has requested His Robe, and subsequently announces his approval of a photo op. I comply.

On a completely different note - after watching Jason Castro perform "Forever in Blue Jeans" tonight on American Idol, I was reminded of my gross misinterpretation in the past of the lyrics of the song:

Money talks
But it don't sing and dance
And it don't walk
And long as I can have you
Here with me, I'd much rather be
Reverend Blue Jeans

Do you have any amusing misheard lyrics you'd like to share?

H is for what the H-E-double hockey sticks?!?!?!

2008-04-23T22:03:00.000-07:00

I cannot BELIEVE that Carly is out. I guess I can't really complain since I never pay for a call to vote on anyone, but OMG I am so bummed.

What a travesty! THE HORROR! THE HORROR!

Hey wait! H is for the Horror!

G is for Greatness

2008-04-20T21:41:00.000-07:00

"What we do, Miss Ventura, does not define who we are. What defines us is how well we rise after falling."

Who knew that I would find a deep moment while watching Maid in Manhattan?

This week will mark six months since I filed for divorce from my soon-to-be ex-husband Rob. I really wish that I could put this chapter to rest, but the courts and the attorneys that navigate through them seem in no hurry whatsoever.

I feel like I have worked hard to rise above after my fall. The reason for our split is something I'd rather not publicize in this forum, and it's something that was not within my control. But since our split, I have risen above. I found a life that provides a happy world for my little Boog, and a happy and secure place for me to raise him.

A wise woman told me recently that in order to be a great parent, you have to take care of yourself first. She used the analogy of being in an airplane that is losing air pressure: Put your own oxygen mask on first before placing one on your child. So I am making it a priority to take care of myself. And I am trying to wade through this divorce process with as much grace as I can muster.

I think I'm doing pretty darn good!

That Bob Hoskins is so profound.

F is for Funny

2008-04-11T21:41:00.001-07:00

Today, my co-worker and I ran a bunch of errands for the Boss and bonded a bit over some shared laughs. Here's one topic that had us giggling. Remember all of those radio spots? Thank you, Internet, for always being there when I need to find something!

E is for Me! Eva!

2008-04-07T22:08:00.000-07:00

A self-indulgent post if there ever was one...

A list of six of my favorite material things:

1. My Nikon D40 - I love every camera I've ever had, but this one takes the cake. I have always, always wanted a camera that allows me to feel much more involved in the process and now I have one!

2. My television - I know that it is hip and cool to say that you don't watch or even own a tv, but I have one and I love watching it. I disagree with the term "idiot box" - I would rather call it a "turn off my brain after a busy and draining day box".

3. My 2000 VW Golf - I spent five months researching cars before buying this one. It is perfect for my life, in every way. I got a four-door with the plan of someday having a child that I would have to load and unload from the back seat. I highly recommend VWs. In closing, one word: fahrvergnügen.

4. My iPod - hello? Of course I love my iPod! Who doesn't love their iPod? It's a wonderful piece of technology. Who would have thought that in our lifetime, we would be able to throw our entire collection of music in our pocket and head out the door into the world? Amazing.

5. My Rolex - this watch used to belong to my grandmother before she passed away. My mom gave it to me about three years ago. I wear it every day, except for the year following Boog's birth, because I was afraid it would scratch his little head when I put him down for naps and stuff.

6. My keepsakes box - my favorite of Boog's baby clothes, photo albums, birthday cards, you name it. I love opening the box (it is quite large) and taking a stroll down memory lane. I can't believe how TINY my boog used to be!

D is for ... uhhh ... no idea.

2008-04-05T13:55:00.000-07:00

Work has sapped my brain of every creative thought. I struggled last night to come up with something good to write about, but drew a blank. Oh well. I'm off to spend the night at my college roomie's enormous estate tonight, so here's a meme I stole from several blogs from Sari's circle of friends:

Instructions:
1. Open your music library (iTunes, winamp, media player, iPod, whatever)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question below, type the song that’s playing
5. New question — press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool

Here we go:

* Opening credits: “Linger” by The Cranberries - Ah, the story of my past romantic relationships.
* Waking up: "The Sun" by Maroon 5 - It's always good to start the day with Adam's voice in your ears.
* First day at school: "Path of Thorns" by Sarah McLachlan - Nice job, iTunes shuffle!
* Falling in love: “Men in Black” by Will Smith - Actually, this is appropriate! The greatest loves of my life began with many, many laughs. And one of my favorite quotes is from this movie.
* Breaking up: “Machinehead” by Bush - A manic song with crazy lyrics ~ very apropos.
* Prom: "Here We Go" by N*Sync - Bubblegum pop full of fun goofy melody.
* Life’s okay: "Are You Happy Now" by Michelle Branch - Finding yourself and inner strength, perhaps?
* Mental breakdown: "Cygnus X-1" by Rush - One of their more "progressive" pieces, by far.
* Driving: "Top of the World" by Patty Griffin - I LOVE singing along to Patty when I'm alone in the car. This one's a bit slow, but good choice, Ms. Shuffle.
* Flashback: "Give it Up" by Sade - I used to listen to this album (Stronger Than Pride) while delivering pizza in Lake Tahoe back in 1995. Such a fond memory. [Mental note to self: Blog about time in Lake Tahoe]
* Getting back together: "Lovely Day" by Bill Withers - Full of love and promise.
* Wedding: "Trees" by Rush - Rob and I totally bonded over our mutual love of Rush while we were getting to know each other. In a way, the lyrics can (in a long-shot way) fit into our what our marriage was, including and its troubles and our personalities.
* Birth of child: "Say That You Love Me" by The Cardigans - Desperate for a perfect relationship; I had unrealistic expectations of motherhood, I guess this works in a way.
* Final battle: "Shadowlands" by Big Head Todd and the Monsters - A little too deep for me on a Saturday afternoon. I'm not a fighter anyways.
* Death scene: "Happy Now?" by No Doubt - Kind of in-your-face anger. I hope my life doesn't end with that sort of open hostility.
* End credits: "Like I Love You" by Justin Timberlake - Right on! If you know me, you know about me and JT. As Justin says towards the end, "Now everybody dance."

Hey, that was fun! Hope everyone's weekend is going great.

C is for Cookie

2008-04-03T22:11:00.000-07:00

Why would C be anything else but?

I have a weakness for cookies. My favorite by far is chocolate chip. For as long as I remember, I've made Nestle Toll-House cookies from scratch. Over the years, I have perfected the art of baking them and am quite pleased with my craft.

The secret is in the preparation technique, not the ingredients, although that does make a difference as well. First of all, you must NEVER melt the butter. It must only be softened. And it has to be butter, not margarine. Very important. Second, you must mix BY HAND, not with a mixer or Cuisinart or whatever else you have in your arsenal. This overmixes it and makes it too creamy. You want the dough to have some texture. Always stop stirring the dough just before you think it's enough. Third, FOLLOW THE RECIPE. For you cooks out there who are at one with the "creative process" of cooking, hold back the urge to estimate the measurements, or God forbid, get all creative and throw foreign ingredients into the mix.

The final step before actually baking them is to put the dough in the fridge for at least 15 minutes (or the freezer if you wish). This keeps the dough from melting and spreading flat on the cookie sheet too quickly, making icky crispy edges to the cookies. Instead, they slowly bake and spread gently outward, and remain quite chewy after they've cooled. Yum.

Keep an eye on them when they're in the oven. Take them out just before they get any darker than a golden brown - they actually bake a bit more on their own after you've taken them out of the oven. And it is a cardinal sin to wait until they cool before having one. The melted chocolate is such a treat, and the smell of a freshly baked cookie under your nose is pure heaven. Be sure to stock up on some cold milk to wash down your perfect chocolate chip cookies.

And pull a stool up to the counter when you get started with the whole process - your little toddler will want to help mix and dip his pudgy fingers into the batter. And they will want to eat a lot of them. And they will get a tummy ache. And they will begin their lifelong love of baking if you're lucky.

Oh, and yes, a cookie is a Sometimes Food. ;)

This post was brought to you by the letter C.

B is for Boog

2008-04-02T21:42:00.000-07:00

My baby boy is no longer a baby. He is a little boy! A walking, talking, obstinate and affectionate bundle of spunk. Here's a short anecdote about my little Boog:

My brother and his girlfriend gave us an early Boog birthday present recently ~ a bike seat for Boog that attached to the back of my bike. I took him to Target and let him pick out his own helmet. Being a red-blooded boy with exposure to PBS and its enticing train propaganda shows, he made a beeline for the bright blue "Thomas and Friends" logo. How he spotted it amongst the glaring images of Dora and Diego I will never know. I pulled it off the rack and handed it to him. It was packaged with a set of elbow and knee pads as well, all snug in the thick, thick government plastic we have all come to know and hate. He exclaimed his joy with a squeal and a very concise remark: "Hat!" I was able to put it on his head to check the fit, along with the rest of the package attached, elbow pads and all. He giggled and indicated that he wished to wear it for a while. So he rode around in the shopping cart with a huge package of plastic-enclosed helmet and pads with a big toothy grin on his face. How cute can he possibly get?

The next evening, we went on a bike ride with my brother and his girlfriend. He ooh'd and ahh'd the whole time he was in motion. It was a happy, happy evening.

My Baby Boy Boog wearing his Bike helmet:

This post is brought to you by the letter B.

A is for April

2008-04-01T20:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, so check it out, check it out:

[that's me doing a Randy Jackson impersonation - - how did I do?]

For the zero of you who actually have been reading this for a year or more, you will recall that I joined a gym last year. I bought some sessions with a trainer, I psyched myself up for the long road to fitness and skinny jeans, and I was Excited. With a capital E. I was ready. I was tired of being a Fatty Fatterson and longed for the day when my body was in shape for cute dresses and high heels and sleeveless tops.

Fast forward to April 1, 2008. Behold! The new skinny Eva! NOT. That gym membership? Waste of money, basically. At least I wasn't hooked into a contract or some such nonsense. No, I tried to go, I did. I would get all dressed, and charge up the ole iPod, creating an upbeat playlist for hoppin' to on the treadmill. I would scoop up Mr. Boog and drive over there, drop Mr. Boog in the Kids Club playroom to be supervised while I entered the House of Fat-Burning Cardio, or began a session with my trainer, Troy. [Oh, by the way, a shout out to troyboy, who keeps BUGGING ME about my lack of posting]

Anyhoo. Five minutes into each and every visit to the gym, this is what happened: Along comes one of the girls who watches the kids, walking up to me with a sheepish look on her face. "Eva? I'm sorry to bother you, but Boog hasn't stopped crying since you left. We've tried to distract him, but he is inconsolable. You're going to have to come back and get him."

Poor separation anxiety Boog. I go to him and his face is soaked with tears and he sees me and just falls apart, arms outstretched. So we go home and agree to try again another time. And so we try again, and we go home after five minutes AGAIN, etc., etc., ad nauseam. So I gave up. I KNOW! Sad, right? So I canceled the membership and we took the jogger stroller route in the mornings. Half the time, Boog would whine or cry during most of the walk. Christ Almighty, could getting in shape BE any more difficult?

Last week, I mentioned to my boss that I was looking into some yoga classes. I also mentioned, on a different day, how much I love her clothes and how all of my clothes suck and I want new clothes and I wish I could burn all of my clothes. She says, "Okay, let's go shopping then! I'll take you shopping." This is how awesome my boss is. I said that would be so great! But I want to look good in new clothes, so I'll politely decline, but thank you. So the next day, when I told her about my idea of yoga or something to do just for me, she says, "I've been thinking about you and I'm afraid I would offend you, but I wanted to get you some sessions with a trainer if you're interested." Hells yeah, I am! So I found a gym a block from work, joined up, got me a trainer, and I work out on my lunch hour. No Boog complications necessary.

Problem solved.

So here is to April. And to Awesome Abs! And Astonishing Arms! And Arduous workouts! And the most problematic of A's: Eva's Ass.

Oh, and by the way, my trainer's name is Audrey.

This post was brought to you by the letter A.

Random Memory

2008-03-12T22:32:00.000-07:00

I lived in Saudi Arabia from 1979 until 1984 with my family. Traveling between Jeddah (the city where the international airport was located) and Yanbu (where we lived) involved a 350 kilometer drive north on a very boring road through the desert. It was not uncommon to see roadkill off to the side. What sort of roadkill does one see in Saudi Arabia? Camels. I'll leave the imagery to you.

Star Struck

2008-03-11T22:49:00.000-07:00

While I was at work today, a new co-worker was name-dropping some stupid celebrity into an anecdote. I really REALLY dislike name-dropping. So being the hypocrite that I am, here is a list of all famous people I have met, in chronological order:

1. Billy Barty - I think I was about 7 or 8 when I met this little star. He was at a fair or something, and I was taller than him. I was a fan of his work as Sigmund Ooze on Sigmund and the Sea Monsters.

2. Dudley Moore - During the summer between my junior and senior years at high school, I worked at Knott's Berry Farm, in a toy store at the entrance to Camp Snoopy, which is the kid's part of the park. On occasion, I was scheduled to be outside, handing out quarters to guests that wanted to operate the remote control boats in a pond by the train station. It was a great job. One day, I was manning the remote control boat attraction, and a co-worker came to relieve me so that I could take my lunch break. I went to the nearest employee break room and sat down with my lunch. In walks Dudley Moore with two other people. I guess he wanted to rest for a bit somewhere quiet and private. He shook my hand and gave me his autograph on my paper lunch bag. I still have it.

3. Steven Spielberg - Remember that movie Back to the Future? Mr. Spielberg produced it! I was wandering around at the mall one afternoon and someone with a clipboard corralled me into talking to them. Well guess what? He gave me a pair of tickets to a test screening of a new movie with Michael J. Fox! The movie was so "test-y" that the cutting-edge special effects weren't even completed. At the end of the screening, we filled out little opinion cards and filed out of the theater. And there in the lobby, looking very unassuming with his baseball cap on, was Steven. Nobody even noticed him! Well I DID! I went up, shook his hand, told him I loved his movies and asked for his autograph. I still have it! You can tell that the pen didn't quite work, because after starting the first "S" the ink didn't perform, so he re-traced his steps and started the "S" all over again.

4. Some forgettable doctor hunk from General Hospital - after writing "forgettable" I felt a need to honor his memory by figuring out who played this guy. All I can remember is that he was on GH around 1988-ish and his name was Dr. Tom Somethingorother. So I let my Googles do the walking and found David Wallace, who played Dr. Tom Hardy during that period. He looks like this:

On my 19th birthday (I think) my parents took me to my favorite restaurant in my hometown of Los Alamitos, the Fish Company, and Dr. Tom was sitting with his family celebrating HIS birthday! I got him to autograph a menu for me. He was very nice about a giggly teenager bothering him during a meal with his family.

5. John Popper - I was a college student at Cal Poly Pomona in the early nineties, and a part of a close-knit group of friends that went to a bazillion concerts: Blues Traveler, Grateful Dead, Phish, Allman Brothers, Black Crowes, and festival after festival. One weekend, we all made the trek up to Ventura to see Blues Traveler. While we were loitering outside the theater, a van pulls up to the front and parks. I'm about six feet away from John Popper. He had recently been in a motorcycle accident and was in a wheelchair. Poor guy was trapped in the van until someone could unload him, so here comes obnoxious me, falling all over myself to gush up close. I love this band, people. This was a highlight in my book of memories. He smiled as I blabbed on and on about the same junk everyone probably blabs about around him.

6. Warren Haynes - When I moved to San Francisco, a co-worker of mine got us backstage passes to the 10th Annual Bridge School Benefit in 1996. Are you freakin' kidding me with this, you say? I would not kid about that. He was close friends with the bassist of Crazy Horse. So we're hanging out backstage trying very hard to look cool, and I see Mr. Haynes (guitarist for the Allman Brothers Band and Gov't Mule) standing a short distance away. I had decided at the beginning of the night that I would not shy away from approaching anyone, so I walked over, introduced myself and we made small talk for a couple minutes. Before I had time to look stupid, someone else grabbed his attention. Mission accomplished!

7. David Bowie - The night backstage at the Bridge School Benefit was filled with OMG's and Holy Crap that's ____! My friend almost peed in his pants when we saw David Bowie. So I pushed him over there so that we could shake his hand and express our gratitude for his music. Awesome.

8. Eddie Vedder - I don't know if it's uncool to like Pearl Jam still, but I do. That night I also got to meet Eddie, who is unbelievably sexy up close! He was also very down to earth and soft spoken - a surprise shift from his larger-than-life stage presence.

9. Neil Young - So the benefit show comes to a close and my friend and I dawdle backstage, milking it for all it's worth. He is waiting for his friend Billy Talbot to come and get us to give us a ride back home, but not until he has introduced us to Neil. Billy comes out of his dressing room and pulls us into another room where Neil is sitting at a table with some other people just hanging out. He shakes my hand as Billy introduces us, I tell him the show was fantastic and what a great venue for a fund raiser. He thanks me and at my request, signs a CD I brought with me. Flying high on the rush of the night, my friend and I ride home in Billy's car with his wife. Wow.

I gave the CD to my mom for Christmas that year - she's a huge fan.

23 months old on Thursday

2008-03-09T22:54:00.000-07:00

I can't believe my little Boog is becoming such a big boy! Nothing slaps Time in the face quite like a growing child. Who wants to take a bite?

One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

2008-03-09T22:05:00.000-07:00

So I got the flu for the second time in two weeks - so says my doctor. I told her she doesn't know what she's talking about, because of course I have extensive medical training. Well, I'm feeling better now, and now? I must blog.

I've obviously blown the MarBloPoMo deal but I'll jump back on and try to keep the daily habit going.

I mentioned earlier that I left my husband back in October. He is now living about 30 minutes south of me. After picking up the Boog from his apartment today after his weekend visitation, I called him to talk about some custody formalities. He is apparently reading these posts that I write. This feels oddly invasive, which is ridiculous since it's a public weblog and available to anyone with and Internet connection. Do I have to edit my thoughts now? Where's the fun in that?

The immediate issue from this revelation is my mention of having "a nice buzz" last week after my date with my dad. He has decided that this indicates that I might have a drinking problem. This offends me. When he and I got together back in 2004, I gave up alcohol in a display of support for him. He has a history of alcoholism, and to make things easier for him, I thought it would be great to just not have it around. Right? It was an easy gesture that I was happy to make. Now that we are no longer together, the deal is off. I am back to drinking a glass of wine at dinner once a week. If that. And here I am defending myself. Why? Because now I worry that this mention of being buzzed is going to bite me in the ass during our day in court when we argue about custody arrangements.

So I want to pose the questions to my reader (or readers if anyone besides Meigan is reading this, hee hee): Should I edit what I write here? Should I close the blog to the public and just invite people in? And most important of all: Paper or plastic? (Sasha needs not respond to that last one)

So Much for That Day

2008-03-05T21:46:00.000-08:00

1. I stayed home with a sick little Boog today. We went to the doctor's to make sure it wasn't anything serious and guess what? He's got an ear infection in both ears! Which means I'm home with him for the rest of the week, I'm guessing. Oh well.

2. I stopped by the office to pick up a billion files to work on from home. Because Hooray! I can still work even if I'm at home! Please do not misconstrue the last two sentences as anything but sarcasm.

3. On a nicer note, my Dad took me out on a date tonight. We went to a posh joint called The Madison and enjoyed a leisurely dining experience, complete with cocktails, appetizers, delicious entrees, expensive wine and dessert! My brother watched the Boog. I have a nice buzz now, and am retiring for the night. I realize that technically this post is not a list, and therefore not in compliance with MarBloPoMo's posting requirements. So I'm just going to stick numbers in front of each paragraph. So there!

TTFN!

Bad Mommy List

2008-03-04T23:46:00.000-08:00

I found out today that Pink Eye is going around amongst daycare kids at the moment. Pink eye! Yikes. If Robby so much as rubs his eye, he's bound to be kicked out. Here's why this would not be good:

1. My mom is in Sweden right now, having surprised her sister at her birthday party. She is my backup "daycare" for when Robby isn't allowed there, or on any of the three gazillion holidays that they close for. No mom = no backup.
2. I already stayed home with him two weeks ago, when he was still runny nosed, and i wasn't feeling so hot either come to think about it.
3. I am too busy with work this week to take a day away from the office to care for my own flesh and blood.

...now I'm just feeling too awful - what horrible thoughts to have in my head! My poor kid!

This reminds me of how self-righteous I was as an at-home mom, never understanding how women could leave their babies all day and go work somewhere if they didn't need to. Away from their babies. I'm an asshole for thinking there is anything bad about that.

Contained

2008-03-03T21:55:00.000-08:00

I recall someone blogging about the contents of their purse a while back. Considering that this requires no thought on my part, I will list the contents of mine:

1. Cell phone
2. Planner
3. Checkbook
4. Wallet with $11 in it
5. Address book
6. Free pass to the Long Beach Aquarium
7. Badtz Maru business card holder
8. Portable pack of Clorox Disinfecting Wipes
9. Title for my VW Golf (DMV visit tomorrow)
10. Eyeglass prescription slip
11. 3 pens
12. "Wallet size" flashlight
13. ziplok sandwich bag with leftover sesame seeds from bagel
14. cross-stitched pig from xmas card from my aunt in Sweden
15. Hershey's kiss wrapper
16. Near-empty box of Tic-Tacs, freshmint flavor
17. broken keychain with tiny framed picture of newborn Boog
18. travel toothbrush and toothpaste
19. Benefit "You Rebel" tinted moisturizer
20. barrette
21. Benefit "Bad Gal Lash" mascara
22. 2 tubes of Blistex
23. comb
24. safety pin
25. Estee Lauder eye shadow that my mom got free with purchase
26. 3 ob's
27. blister pack of Tylenol Sinus Congestion and Pain ("Severe"!)
28. 2 Hall's mentholyptus cough drops
29. random post-it that says "#6 Vacant" that I pulled off the inside wall of my new apartment's mailbox
30. 2 hair bands (for ponytails, not Poison et. al.)
31. Nail clippers

...Christ, I have a lot of shit in my bag. This reminds me of Ally Sheedy's big Oscar moment in The Breakfast Club where she dumps her contents of her purse on the floor.

Totally

2008-03-02T20:59:00.000-08:00

My best friend from high school dropped by today. She and her husband finally sold their house after reducing the price THREE TIMES. After hearing this wonderful news last week, I immediately offered the use of my moving boxes and packing paper.

You see, I save my moving boxes in the event that I have to move yet again for some inane reason. Every time I finish unpacking from a move, I VOW to not budge for at least five years. This was the vow that I made in January 2007 when we made the trek from Northern CA down here to SoCal permanently. Then in October this pesky thing happened where I left my husband and needed to find new digs for me and the Boog.

So here I am, happily ensconced in a cozy apartment near my parents and brother, with all my boxes neatly stacked flat in my storage cabinet, when lo and behold! A friend in need of boxes! I was quick to pimp out mine.

So in the course of her visit, we transferred the boxes in to her car and I invited her up to my place to have a look-see and to show her my recent find while I unpacked my things back in January: Her notes written to me during our junior and senior years of high school. For reasons unknown to me now, possibly due to underage alcohol consumption and subsequent memory loss, we spoke in strange, 80s slang - often adding the suffix "-age" to arbitrary words. Here are a few items that got some laughs this afternoon:

1. Rad
2. Lustage
3. Mow (this was slang for chowing down)
4. Faaaaaaa (alternate use of the "F" word)
5. Scope out
6. Scam (make out with someone)
7. Plannage
8. Excerpt from a note: "Yesterday at about 3:30 I was going to go to Penguin's [frozen yogurt shop] at the Los Altos Ctr. but guess what? My s**t-brained mom forgot me. I was in the bathroom for like two minutes and I come out to find that her and my sister took off without me. Makes me feel real good. S**t! What a way to start off the f***ing week." [Has anyone seen Sixteen Candles? That was her life.]
9. A post-script from another note, written in History class: "P.S. Someone wants to know if you're horny."

Good times.

Top Ten Unintelligible Boog Words

2008-03-01T22:23:00.000-08:00

[as translated by Mama]

1. A-buzz? (Translation: Can I watch Buzz Lightyear on TV, please?)
2. A-sauce? (Can I have some apple sauce?)
3. Ought-daw? (Can I have a hot dog?)
4. OOOOS? (Will you help me put my shoes on?)
5. A-dough? (Are we taking the stroller on our walk?)
6. A-mas? (Can we watch Thomas and Friends now?)
7. Buck-eee? (Can we go to Mormor's house (my mom) and ride my tricycle?)
8. Bella? (I miss my girlfriend Bella at daycare. Are we going there right now?)
9. A-buzz? (Can I watch Buzz Lightyear AGAIN?)
10. A-buzz? (I have never seen this movie Toy Story II that you have sitting on the shelf with the other movies. Could we see that, possibly? This would be my very first viewing!)

hello.

2008-02-28T20:23:00.000-08:00

Hey. I decided to jump back into the blog pool in time for NaBloPoMo monthly March extravaganza!

Sorry I've been gone so long. I would have been back sooner but I've been, um, busy. Working hard to get my life back together after leaving my husband back in October. Now THAT is something to blog about right there.

But March is for lists! So list I shall.

Mah Berfday

2007-10-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

Today I turned 38. How did this happen? Where did 31 - 37 go? I remember turning 30, obviously. That's a biggun'.

My dutiful husband sent me to a day spa for the afternoon. He started doing that two years ago for my birthday and I told him there would never, ever be a need for any other type of gift. Never would he have to be at a loss as to what I would want. Ever! Yay for day spas!

After being treated like royalty for five hours, I came home to a small surprise party! Somehow, Rob was able to keep a secret for a whole week and not tell me what he was up to. Our parents were there, and my brother and his girlfriend. And Mr. Boog of course! It was so nice to spend an evening with a bunch of people that I love.

I am so relaxed and happy. What a great way to end a birthday. :)

Hiatus

2007-08-30T19:59:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! Or rather, hello to the three people who read this on occasion. I'm going to have to take a break from this for a while. I have nothing interesting to write about these days. I mean, my life isn't boring or anything, I just can't figure out what to write about. Perhaps I've gotten too much sun.

I'll be back!

The OCD

2007-08-14T22:19:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. Gawd.

Jeff Lewis is a nut job. And irritating. And I am loving my new guilty pleasure immensely.

In other news, I am going to Phoenix on Thursday morning, returning Sunday. I am really looking forward to seeing my sis-in-law and her girls. But. BUT! I am NOT looking forward to Phoenix in August. And no pool. Does anyone make air-conditioned clothing?

Any psychoanalysts out there?

2007-08-11T11:58:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night that I was Snoop Dogg's girlfriend. All I wanted to do was lovingly stroke his cheek.

That's all I remember.

All The World's A Stage

2007-07-31T08:34:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, Rob came home from work with the usual handful of anecdotes to share. One of the project managers on a job had received a pair of tickets to a concert. It turns out that Rob's Big Boss has some contact in the ticket business, and can get great seats to any show you want. And he gets tickets for the occasional employee in recognition of a job well done. Since Rob overheard all of this, his boss must have felt obligated to extend the offer to Rob as well; to get tickets for him to a concert of his choice.

Rob relays this story to me and I could tell we're both thinking the same thing: RUSH! Their tour this summer would be heading this way and there is no chance we would be missing out on that. He decided to ask his boss for four tickets, so that we could take our friends along, who are also fans. He asked. Time passed. More time passed. I asked Rob about it. He didn't know anything yet. His boss assured him he was on it.

The concert date was looming. I bugged Rob for something concrete. He emailed the boss. Turned out that the ticket guy was in Hawaii but had assured him that it was a go. A little over a week before the concert, Rob called me from work. The boss came through! Four tickets, fourth row! The tickets were waiting for him on his desk a little later. Well, it turned out that it was actually twelfth row, but seriously. Who cares? Free tickets are the best seats in the house, as far as I'm concerned.

The day of the show, Rob went in to work super early so that he could leave early. We all met up at another friend's house in order to carpool down to San Diego.

The seats were fantastic. The show was amazing and we all had an incredible time. There weren't enough superlatives in the English language to accommodate our enthusiasm.

We got home at 1:30a.m. (AM, people! Woo! Can we party or WHAT?) and collapsed. We were zombies the next day. Fatigue has never been more worth it.

I Have the Giggles BIG TIME

2007-07-11T20:50:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes you get the giggles and you CANNOT STOP? And the more time passes, the worse it gets? Like you start tearing up, and then crying/giggling? And to any witnesses, you look like you've totally crossed the line into "lobotomy candidate"? That was me just now, reading this.

For Meigan

2007-07-09T23:11:00.000-07:00

Hi Meigan! I miss you and I know this will make you laugh hysterically.

Happy 4th of July!

2007-07-04T21:11:00.000-07:00

We had a busy day, beginning with a morning at Salt Creek Park by the ocean with our friends and their son, who is Boog's age. Then naps all around, grocery shopping at a surprisingly empty store (!), and hamburgers at our place with the same friends from earlier in the day. The boys played hard all afternoon and into the evening. Seriously tuckered out and down for the count. We can see the fireworks along the coast from our living room window right now!

This picture was taken in the car seat last weekend, but apropos for today's occasion. Hope you all enjoyed your day!

Enter the Toddler

2007-06-22T19:58:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, Boog and I had some snags in our schedule. After a leisurely early morning of playing in the apartment, I took him for a walk a little too late, and he fell asleep in the stroller. I know that most of you would say, "Hey, great!", but I had no intention of walking around for a two hour nap as the temperature climbed past 85. Go ahead and call me a wimp.

Miraculously, I transferred him to the car seat, still asleep. The transfer from car to crib was not so miraculous. But I left him in the crib with his bottle and took a shower. Later, I heard my cell phone beeping that there was a voice mail. I had forgotten to take it on the walk. I looked for ten minutes for the phone, with no luck. I recalled that Boog had been playing with it earlier, and thought he might have hidden it in the bookshelf or something. I called it from the home phone. I knew that it was set to super-low volume (for naptimes) and had a hard time locating the ringing. I finally walked past the dining room table and heard a faint ringing. Into the kitchen, and the sound disappeared. Zeroing in took some doing, but I finally stopped in front of the kitchen trash can, figuring he'd dropped the phone behind it. Nope, not there. I lifted the lid. Louder ringing.

Boog dropped my phone in the trash. Nice one!

Then. THEN! He has a nasty bit of diaper rash on his tush, right by where the elastic on the diaper sits against the skin. After changing his post-breakfast diaper, I let him run around nekkid for a bit to air out. Not two minutes into his streaking escapade does he whizz on the carpet next to his little piano. The kicker was that he noticed the sound on the carpet that it was making, and looked down in complete and utter awe of what he was accomplishing. Absolutely priceless.

Happy Father's Day, Honey

2007-06-17T20:08:00.000-07:00

It's been amazing to watch you become the father you've always wanted to be. And what a wonderful father you are. I love you, Rob!

Um...Sliced Bread?

2007-06-16T09:22:00.000-07:00

Overheard by woman sitting in massage chair (with calf massager attachment) at Linens -n- Things:

"Oooooohhhh, this is better than..."

LOVE

2007-06-15T20:14:00.001-07:00

So adorable

2007-06-14T07:59:00.000-07:00

My niece calls it a "glove department" instead of a glove compartment. I always want to hug her when she says that, for putting such a large smile on my face.

Evening Stroll

2007-06-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

The three of us went for a walk across the street from our apartment yesterday evening. I totally love where we live.

80%

2007-06-10T22:20:00.001-07:00

I'm feeling almost all better. I think it turned out to just be a nasty head cold, but DAMN was it a big thorn in my side.

All I can say is that hubbies are awesome and they take care of Boogs when you're sick so that you can sleep in and have breakfast waiting when you wake up and not feel like you have to do anything but get better.

I love my hubby.

My Little Techie

2007-06-09T21:33:00.001-07:00

Sicky-poo

2007-06-08T10:46:00.000-07:00

I think I have strep throat. Or something equally vile. I can barely lift my head off the pillow, much less entertain and change diapers of a thirteen month old. Ugh. I hatehatehate being sick. It's so inconvenient.

Boog is down for a nap and so am I. Night night.

Northbound

2007-06-05T21:50:00.000-07:00

Hola!

We're back from our trip to the Bay Area. Lots of fun to be had, I tell you what. And Boog could not have been better on the plane rides up and back. I'm so proud of that little dude.

Our main reason for the trip was to celebrate the first birthdays of all the babies in my old mom's group. I missed them all so much. And the babies are all so HUGE. It's been almost a year since we started the group, all neurotic and sleep-deprived first-time moms. I don't know what I would have done without them.

The Daddies were all there too!

Then we went to visit our old neighbor Sally and her wonderdog Lola. Boog LOVES Sally and Lola. Especially Lola.

The beautiful Meigan allowed us to stay with her and her little boog-ette, Nana, on Saturday night. We ate Indian food from the bestest Indian food place this side of the Mississippi. As I fed Boog his dinner, I spilled some pear puree on the table, to which Nana exclaimed "EWWWWW!" and ran squealing behind Mom's chair. So I wiped it up and started taunting her with the pear-soaked napkin. "EWWWW!" and more hiding. A couple of repetitions and I figured that one had run its course. Nope! Nana inches over towards me and says, "Touch me with the pears!" Has that combination of words ever been uttered in the history of words? I love that kid so much.

And then the power went out! There was no TV! What to do, WHAT TO DO??? Oh yes, that's right, we can "converse" and light candles. And of course French-braid some hair. We stopped short of "light as a feather, stiff as a board". And since the freezer was without power, I refrained from freezing Meigan's bra. Nana continued to delight me with more of her shenanigans. After doing a certain something that she refers to as "pooting", she would run up to me and say "Auntie Eva, I stink! Smell me!" It was my turn to say "EW."

We had a delicious breakfast at Fat Apple's the next morning.

My old friends Casey, Denise and their gorgeous son joined us. Such great friends to get up so early on a Sunday morning for us. I love them dearly and miss them so freakin' much. Denise is an awesome mom. We bonded like super-glue during our pregnancies.

Their son is almost three. Here he is sneaking some vodka that we had ordered with our pancakes.

Oh relax, I'm just kidding. He and Nana became fast friends. How cute are they?

Then Nana pooted again.

We made it outside after breakfast in the nick of time. Boog burst out of Casey's chest and ran off to lay more alien boog eggs.

I don't know how this post evolved into silliness, but rest assured it only means that I am in a terrific mood this week and it is all because of time well spent with people I love. I'm so glad we went.

Unexpected joy

2007-06-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

This morning, I was driving to the bank with Boog. I turned a corner and caught a glimpse of some movement ahead on my left, just next to the median in the road.

It was a mommy duck and about eight tiny ducklings. I stopped the car and turned on my hazard lights, hoping to God that nobody would be paying more attention to the person on their cell phone than to driving their car. Everyone stopped, and in slow motion, the little duck family waddled across the street to safety.

The beauty of it brought me to tears.

Next stop: Science Camp

2007-06-05T20:35:00.000-07:00

Our bank had a promotion for their customers last month, where we could go to some select museums for free when we showed our ATM card at the ticket window. So on Memorial Day, we went to the Discovery Science Museum! We're geeky like that.

There was a special exhibit about the body with a Sesame Street theme. I thought this random prop was kind of cute:

And what would a kid-centric museum be without a bunch of dinosaur stuff???

And the slide carved out of a dinosaur's tail.

We had a good time, doing the thing I treasure most about my life right now: spending time as a family.

Mini-break

2007-06-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

We're heading back up to Northern California for the weekend to visit old friends and mainly to celebrate our Boog's first birthday with all his buddies from my mom's group. It will be our first trip by plane since he was a tiny lump of chubb. I hope he doesn't scream the whole way up.

Cross your fingers for me?

Here comes Pat!

2007-05-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

It was bound to happen...

The other day, my friend Dawn and I met at the mall to let our little dudes (both boys, for those of you who are new to my site) run around in the enclosed carpeted play area for a while. This is how Boog was dressed:

Woman #1: "Oh, how cute! How old is she?"

Me: "13 months." Why bother correcting a stranger, right?

We decide to get smoothies, so we pack our guys into the strollers and head for Jamba Juice.

Woman #2: "Just look at those curls!!! What's her name?"

Me: "[a total boy's name, like Michael]"

Woman #2: "Well, she is just too precious."

Me: "Thanks!" Um, didn't I basically just tell you he's a boy?

We cruise around the mall, stopping in at the toy store to let the boys play at the train table. Boog interacts briefly with a little girl, a little older than him:

Woman #3: "Awww, they look about the same age. How old is your daughter? Mine is 15 months."

Me: [tired of humoring strangers] "He's thirteen months."

Woman #3: "OH! I'm so sorry. He looks like a girl."

I am torn between keeping his beautiful curls, or cutting them off to avoid such encounters in the future. As I typed that last sentence, I asked myself how in the world I could even consider option #2. Who gives a crap what total strangers think?!?!?!

I just answered my own question. Don't you love when that happens? Thanks, Blogger!

Snap Happy

2007-05-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

I love my new camera! Yesterday, I took Boog up to my parents' house for them to babysit while I took my oldest friend (we met when we were four!) out for a belated birthday lunch. When I came back from lunch, my son was SOAKED from head to toe. My mom had introduced him to their fountain in the front yard and was letting him go to town. I think he had fun.

Workin' it Out ... NOT

2007-05-17T21:08:00.001-07:00

So I've been a member of my gym for about, what, three weeks I think. I like it there; it's got everything I need in a gym (pool! woohoo!) and they've got a daycare room. Which is why I joined. To work out during the day and give Boog some time to socialize outside of the circle (of me).

Best laid plans. Yessirree. Know how many times I have had a workout longer than 15 minutes? One! Well, two actually. But once was while my mom babysat at my apartment. So, one. Uno.

What is this, you say? Why, I'll tell you! I've actually visited this gym many times, with Boog in tow, all fired up for a nice sweaty workout. But. My darling son will NOT be subjected to time away from me. How DARE I even CONSIDER trying to take care of myself. He keeps having total meltdowns and there is nothing I can do to appease him except just grab him and go home.

Poor me. I'm so annoyed. Well, at least I tried.

But you know what? I will not be discouraged by this minor glitch in my plan. I shall workout at night, once Rob is home. I will not be exhausted from the day, and will TCB at the G. (That's "take care of bidness at the gym" for those of you who are new.)

Happy Birthday, Dad

2007-05-16T20:14:00.000-07:00

Today, my dad turned 76. While he has slowed down a bit in his old age, he still amazes me with his strength. And still stubborn as a mule. And the biggest softie when it comes to his grandson. I love you Dad!

In other news, I got a new camera today! We came into a little extra money, and I took the opportunity to buy the Nikon D40 that I've been coveting for months. I have always wanted to add photography to my sad little list of hobbies, and now I'm in business! I'll be posting the results of this endeavor here, so stay tuned. Here are two that I took earlier this evening, itchin' to try it out right away: