Catching Up

And so, as the MA-NA-PA eight-week-long celebration comes to a close, I say "thank heavens!" I've had enough birthday cake to last me for a decade and I'm all partied out. The next person's birthday is The Nana and I'm just taking her to Teatro Zinzanni.

Pa's birthday was very fun, though, with oysters and sea bass at The Brooklyn and champagne cocktails and dancing at Pampas. We also celebrated my finishing the chapter two edits (finally...and I'm not revealing how long it took!) I owe a big thanks to two of my writer friends who met me for coffee, lunch and writing on Friday, where I made tremendous strides. It's amazing how a change of venue and chit-chat with some lovely women can make a difference!

I'm in the middle of reading The Winds of War by Herman Wouk and I have to say, it's an amazing book! That's what has been taking up my free time. That and, oh, I had a beautiful run today. It was only a four miler, but when I finished, I felt invigorated. I just love that feeling. I was jamming to The Killers--which, oddly enough, I really don't listen to that much; but when I'm running, it's awesome!

On a sad note today, one of my dearest friends just told me that her ex-husband has cancer. I was floored. I mean--he's so young and I just can't believe what a horrible illness he has. So far, it sounds like he has a few months left to live--although he's now going to see a very good oncologist next week--so perhaps there might be some better news on the horizon. So far, he's been told it's inoperable and he would need a liver transplant among other things.

They were together for 16 years and officially divorced about 6-7 months ago. Despite going their separate ways, she's made every effort to help him as best as she can during treatment. My friend is an amazing and incredibly strong person; but seeing anyone go through anything like this would shake solid rock, I'm sure.

What were they thinking?

I've been involved in a lot of silly PR stunts: world's largest cookie; world's largest salad; etc. But this was just poor planning on their part.

What a goofy idea to make the world's largest popsicle and drag it around the streets of Manhattan in 90% humidity.

I'm a sucker for Cheerios

Click here to see a recent Cheerios commercial called "Adoption Story".

I'll admit, I cried...

Cuts in funding threaten public broadcasting

I'm sure you've all seen those bogus e-mails floating around cyberspace for a few years claiming that NPR, PBS and the NEA were in peril should legistlation pass to cut funding.

This time, sadly, it's true. According to Moveon.org and this article making its way through the wires, the House Appropriations Committee approved a 23% reduction in budget for fiscal year 2006, thereby eliminating services such as "Ready to Learn" for children.

I don't know about you, but I love public broadcasting, especially shows on NPR like All Things Considered, Fresh Air and This American Life. Likewise, I love shows like Sesame Street for Mr. Na and Frontline, which, in my opinion, is the most honest news program, bar none. I'd hate to see these quality television and radio programs disappear.

This is MY bike

Mr. Na and I took a spin on his new trike today (actually, he rode it, I pushed it). He still hasn't figured out how to work the pedals quite yet but I'm certain by the end of this summer he'll be a regular speed demon. I loved the fact that I could just wheel him into the drugstore so I could pick up my prescription and he made the most of it by telling everyone in the entire store that this was his new bike. He discussed the trike's features with anyone willing to listen, and showed them his handy dandy hand brake. which he's learning how to use at every stop sign.

Our weekend was just chock full o'goodness and Mr. Na's birthday party was a smash hit. We had twelve little indians converge on our home to feast on the Thomas the Tank birthday cake and burn through their sugar high by running up and down the stairs. As I went to grab some language CDs in my office upstairs to give to a friend who was leaving, I found three littleuns in Na's crib, bouncing up and down and giggling--but they were at least polite enough to take off their shoes first!

I took it all in stride--I had to--given the lack of sleep I had the night before. Plus, I had some really wonderful friends help me to direct traffic. I have Phantasiewriter to thank for being the best toddler wrangler in the West.

Anyway, part of the reason for my lack of sleep--aside from the stress of holding a party at my house--was that I came down with a nasty UTI on Friday; but I was fortunate enough to be able to see my Dr. that afternoon to get some antibiotics and pyridium. That evening, I dosed my self up with Motrin and ran the Fremont 5k (which tells you that either I really love to run or I'm just plain stupid). All things considered though, I felt fine and the race was a cinch to finish!

Now it's time to plan Mr. Na's Pa's Father's Day Extravaganza! I think there will be baseball and Eggs Seattle involved.








I wonder if I could enter the Tour De France this year?

Diet Vanilla Pepsi Break...

This has been the first day in a week that the sun's bothered to come out and Mr. Na, Fifi and I took a lovely stroll before their nap (yes, Oatmeal actually goes to sleep on her bed until she hears Mr. Na wake up. Cute, huh?)

Now it's time to roll up my sleeves, suck down my pop and get back to "chapter two" (sigh)...I'm changing lots of stuff around, but I guess that's what I get for writing without an outline. One of these days, I am going to have to write an outline to make sure everything in the book is consistent at least!

I'm all registered to run the Fremont 5k tomorrow night. And afterwards, it's date night with Pa for some sushi and SIFF! There's a documentary about Death Cab for Cutie playing at the Neptune but, er, uh, I'm not that big of a fan. But there is a Steve Buscemi film starring Casey Affleck called "Lonesome Jim" which looks pretty cool!

Speaking of documentaries (or rockumentaries...whatever!) I am dying to get my hands on this!

Ok, well my pop break is over...I've got to get back at it so I can spend some time finishing one of the most borrrrrring books in the world: Inside the Third Reich by Albert Speer. Actually, I'm in the home stretch, with only 50 pages to go and it's getting interesting (Finally! It only took 600 pages)

If you're in Seattle, get out and enjoy the sunshine because it's going to turn crappy again by tomorrow! And for my friends out on the East Coast, I hope you don't swelter too much from the 84% humidity! (K, you're gonna have to train for that marathon at 5 a.m. girlie!)

Oh, p.s...keep your fingers crossed: Na and Ma might be going with Pa to Paris and Italy in early September! Wooooohoooooooooo!

Happy Birthday Mr. Na!

My little guy turned three today. And as I write this, he's in the next room with Pa, singing "The Alphabet Lost and Found." His latest addition to this song has been to sing the part where they say "slang words, you're in the wrong building!" He knows that part cracks me up when he does it and since he hears me typing next door, he shouts,

"You hear that Mama? That's comedy!"

(I like him. He's silly.)

I'm always so amazed how quickly time is passing, yet I'm sad, too. As much as I love watching my son grow up, delighting me every day with his new skills, I often get these stupid fears that creep up on me every once in awhile. What if, once he realizes what adoption is all about, he winds up hating us? I mean, I know all kids at some point "hate" their parents for one reason or another; but I'm talking about real resentment. What if he blames us for having been abandoned by his birthmother? While I can't control my son's feelings (and I wouldn't want to) I try very hard every day to show him how much I love him. I suppose, initially, it would break my heart to see any anger or resentment taken out on us--but as always, I'm preparing for us to have a lot of open communication so that we can help him work through his issues. Of course, all of this could be a total non-issue and he'll keep trying to make us laugh--as he does each and every day!

During Monday's episode of Six Feet Under, David and Keith were talking about adopting children. David said, "when you adopt, you fall in love with that child as you would your own." To which Keith replied, "maybe." I gotta tell ya, there's no "maybe"...at least not for me. I remember how much I mourned over the fact that we could never have a biological child. Now I'm thankful that things turned out the way they did. I love my son with every inch of my being--and probably appreciate him moreso than I would have had I been able to get pregnant without any problems and given birth to him.

I feel so blessed that our paths crossed in Ukraine. Not only is Mr. Na a handsome little boy, he's smart as a whip, too, and is starting to develop a very witty sense of humor. Of course now he's in the "why?" stage where everything we say is followed by him asking "why?" And lately, too, if we say something like "because..." and leave it at that, that's not good enough for him. So he'll then ask, "WHY NOT?????"

Now THAT'S comedy!

aaaahhhhh...Monday's coming!

We had such a busy, crazy weekend that I can't believe I'm writing this but: I'm glad tomorrow's Monday!

Most of today was spent doing some late spring cleanup in the garden: weeding, pruning, edging, mowing which all lead to sneezing, coughing and tearing. The rest was getting ready for the big shindig next weekend: Mr. Na's third birthday party. So far, we've got about 10 wee ones confirmed. Gulp! I keep reminding myself if it gets too far out of hand, there's always the park two blocks up.

I'm anxiously awaiting the 20 pound package from My Toy Box this week. In it is the super duper Thomas the Tank party pack and his very own trike!

I've ordered the Thomas the Tank cake, the helium tank and balloons. I've bought the chips, dips, pop and juice. Now it's just a matter of running around next Saturday to collect the goods and get the lunch-type food.

His little head's gonna explode next week! I can't wait!

All of this has been a fun distraction, but I'm itching to get to my writing desk this week and continue with my edits. If I can edit a chapter a week, I could be finished with this draft by fall. That'd be nice!

Hair of the dog...

This has been, for me at least, the worst allergy season to date. Since January, I've been hit with not one but two major allergy attacks that left me wheezing and practically laid up in bed with a sore throat, stuffy nose and raging cough. At one point, I actually thought I had the flu, except my temperature was well within the normal range.

I wasn't always like this. When I was 20 and living in a smog bank, otherwise known as the San Fernando Valley, I started getting these weird panic attacks. I couldn't catch my breath and the more I tried, the more panicked I became until I would go into full blown hyperventilation. I went to the ER during one of the attacks and they treated me for asthma. The next day, I went to a specialist who tested me positive for asthma--and that was my first bout of it. I was given an inhaler and sent on my merry way. When I moved out of the San Fernando Valley, my asthma disappeared about as fast as it came--which was nice, because I hated using the inhaler--it gave me the worst heart palpitations. I started to feel a little bit like Felix Flanken--where I'd take one thing for one ailment and it would lead me to another.

When I moved to Washington, D.C., I discovered seasons--and with them came seasonal allergies. The green dusting of pollen on my car should have been my first clue--but sadly, it wasn't. It was the week-long bout of cold-like symptoms that made me wonder why I moved away from my cozy life in West L.A.

For the last eight years, I suffered season after Seattle season, trying one form of over-the-counter medicine after another, as I vowed to make an appointment with an allergist to find out EXACTLY what the hell I was allergic to and to be put on the same drugs as everyone else in the club. So, today, I finally did what I had been wanting to do since I developed these symptoms in my 20s: I paid a visit to my friendly neighborhood allergist.

It wasn't an easy appointment either: from the moment the nurse pricked my skin with 12 different allergens, I began to feel itchy all over and developed these massive hives around some of the areas she hit. Then, she had me WAIT for 15 minutes and told me not to scratch. I squirmed uncontrollably in my chair and decided to SMS the hubster since it was all I could do to keep my hands occupied. I kept him apprised of the situation:
"Looks like Dog/Cat dander are neck and neck...wait a second, coming up fast, it's grasses and pollen, followed by dust mites and red oak..."

The nurse came in to check me and she told me the winners of the first round: red oak and grasses. Then, she told me we'd have to go to the next round: injecting under the skin by creating air bubbles with larger needles. At that point, I was awfully glad I had gone through infertility treatments. Needles used to scare the living shit out of me. After injecting myself with hormones everyday, twice a day, in my stomach voluntarily in addition to having a FOOT LONG needle inserted into my vagina, piercing a wall and an ovary to retrieve eggs voluntarily, these little needles this afternoon were childsplay.

Thankfully, the second round didn't bring about the awful itching I experienced during the first--but it did manage to raise a few more angry little welts on my arms.

The results? I am allergic to dogs, cats, grasses and dust mites, in addition to oak.

The Doctor came in, discussed my reactions, gave me a "what you need to know about your allergies" welcome packet, loaded me up with Astelin, Rhinacort, Flonase, Singulair, and Nasonex and said, "Try these and whichever one you like, just check off on the prescription form..."

As I read through my "welcome" packet, I literally laughed out loud:

"Ideally, it is best for highly dust mite allegic individuals to avoid vacuuming or dusting duties..."

"For patients allergic to animals, it is best to keep the animal out of the house. Keep the animal 100% out of the bedroom."

"Don't mow lawns or be around freshly cut grass; mowing stirs up pollen and molds. Don't rake leaves, as this also stirs up molds..."



Achoo!

These are a few of my favorite things

The new trailer for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is pretty cool; although, what is up with Johnny Depp's goofy smile and hairdo?

Coincidentally, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which is one of my all-time favorites, came out when I was three; but Mr. Na won't be seeing the new one for a few more years.

Today, The Guardian announced the Live 8 lineup in full detail. Hard to believe the first Live Aid was twenty years ago. I was going to summer school then to make up for the history class I failed because I cut too many classes in my junior year. Where were you?

No surprises as far as the lineup: Madonna, U2, Paul McCartney, Robbie Williams, Duran Duran, Coldplay, Dave Matthews; but there will be no Concorde for anyone to hop the pond in a hurry.

I won't be going, but I'm sure VH-1 or someone will be broadcasting it and re-broadcasting it a million times for all to see. I am, however, looking forward to seeing Chris Isaak, Oasis and Kasabian, Ben Folds and Rufus Wainwright, and Tears for Fears this summer.

Some more of my favorite summer things:
The smell of Play-Doh (it's a year-round thing but I just got some for Mr. Na so it stirred up memories of Lollipop Camp);
an afternoon thunderstorm;
cherries;
hearing the ice cream truck outside;
daylight at 9 p.m;
bike rides;
swimming outside;
fireworks;
BBQ ribs;
corn on the cob;
outdoor concerts

Warm in Whistler

You know, when you drive 5 hours up north, up to 2100 feet in elevation, to where you can ski during the summer, you think, "ah, this trip will be all about the cooler weather..." Well, think again. I mean, we were prepared for warm temperatures prior to our trek--but Whistler was ROASTING and HUMID with daytime temperatures in the mid to upper 90s. Nonetheless, aside from Mr. Na's wicked heat rash, we had an awesome time.

I had been to Whistler before, but Na, Pa and FiFi had not. We were immediately thrilled by the fact that we were staying right in Whistler Village and that the entire place was just downright dog friendly. FiFi even got to shop at Lush with me and she helped me pick out Sonic Death Monkey among other tasty treats.

The only bummer about the whole trip was the stupid 5k race I entered on Sunday. It really would have been an awesome race if it had just been better organized. The starting line was not where it was supposed to be--and so 300 of us started in a parking lot. Then, while the trail around Lost Lake was properly marked with cones and friendly people for the first 2k, the remaining 1k was not and so I got LOST. I mean, REALLY LOST. And there's just something dreadfully ironic about getting lost on a trail that loops around Lost Lake; but the irony was lost on me on Sunday. I was just livid and by the time I got back to the Village, I gave the "organizers" an earful. But apparently I wasn't the only one who got lost. They were still on the radio trying to find some other wayward souls. Gadzooks! And to think I was on the trail, hopping over piles of fresh bear poop. It definitely wouldn't have been funny if I saw a runner's bib in one of those piles!

Anyway, one of the highlights of the trip was actually the car ride home. British Columbia has to be, by far, one of the prettiest spots in the world. I love the drive between Whistler and Vancouver, where the snow covered mountains meet the sea. Everything is so green and lush--it almost makes Western Washington look pale.

Well, almost.

Why I live in Seattle

Photo is from Mike Siegel/The Seattle Times

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/home/





And just in time to enjoy this gorgeous weather, Na, Pa and Ma are headed to Whistler for the weekend.  Have a nice holiday!

Things that make me sad

I'm a crier. Not, you know, the average crier watching sad movies like Steel Magnolias or The Notebook; I have been found crying over iMac commercials (I'm such a sucker for Kermit the Frog singing "It Ain't Easy Being Green") and the opening credits of "Winnie the Pooh" among other things.

Last night, we actually braved the crowds and saw Star Wars III (I know, I completely went back on my last blog entry...it's a long story) and halfway through it (I won't spoil it), I was crying. The dialogue SUCKED, the acting SUCKED, but all that yucky murder MADE ME CRY!

I just finished watching the season finale of The OC and it left me bawling like a baby. A lot of it, though, also had to do with the fact that I just read that the voices of Fred Flintstone and Tony the Tiger died. That made me sad, too.

An 11 year-old boy was hit by a car down at the bottom of our street yesterday. He was using a crosswalk. One car had stopped; another car attempted to whiz past in the next lane, oblivious to the stopped car in the other lane. All I kept thinking was: it could have been Na. So I spent this afternoon gently telling Na that he can never, ever, ever, ever cross the street without holding my hand. He wanted to know why I was crying. I told him I didn't ever want him to get a bad owie like the boy.

My naturopath called me a "Pusatilla"-- which is actually a wildflower. Women with "Pulsatilla" tendencies are criers. They also tend to be fair haired, fair skinned and blue eyed. After my sister's death and during our adoption turmoil, she gave me a tincture made of Pulsatilla. I took one or two of the smallest doses and cried for an entire day. I called her (in tears) to tell her it wasn't working. She told me that since homeopathic remedies contain trace amounts of "what ails ya" that I'd be feeling blue for one or two days. A few days later, amazingly, my melancholy lifted. It felt awesome, again, to be alive.

I don't mind being a crier, really. All things considered, I'd rather cry out my feelings than keep them bottled inside. And hey, I've got a personality of a flower!

Film Wars: Revenge of the SIFF

So while everyone and their uncle stands in line or squeezes themselves into the front row to watch Revenge of the Sith this weekend, I'm making my plans to go to The Seattle International Film Festival.

SIFF always happens right around the dreariest part of spring in Seattle, when the weather gets warmer but it stays gray and rainy. It's the perfect time for spending 8 hours (most of them daylight) in a darkened movie theater, munching on popcorn and being transported away to different countries.

I've seen some awesome films at SIFF, including Das Experiment, Dirty Pretty Things, and a short called D.E.B.S. which was later made into a full length feature. I think my all-time favorite screening at SIFF was My Dinner With Jimi. Afterwards, Howard Kaylan stood up on stage and did a very cool Q&A. (Of course, it was also pretty cool when princess kanomanom and I saw The Secret Lives of Dentists and Tom Robbins sat behind us). I also got to see Anthony Michael Hall after the screening of Pirates of the Silicon Valley (but secretly wished Noah Wylie was there).

There used to be a time--Pre-Na--when hubby and I would actually create a spreadsheet in Excel to map out all the movies we wanted to see at SIFF. We'd drop about $300 easily on the Festival and spend entire DAYS inside movie theaters, eating the Clif Bars we brought with us to keep our energy levels up. Sadly, those days are gone and now we must choose around babysitting schedules and Papa's travel schedule, so if we're lucky, we'll be able to catch a handful this year. Here's my (partial) wish list:
The Dying Gaul
4
Absolut
Adam & Steve
and Amazing Grace: Jeff Buckley. Sadly, the first showing of it is already sold out!

The Ultimate Monkey Mix for Spring 2005

The spring music mix currently in my MP3 player:


Club Foot - Kasabian
Feel Good Inc - Gorillaz
Silver Rider - Low
Black and White Town - Doves
I Predict a Riot - Kaiser Chiefs
Losing My Edge - LCD Soundsystem
Let Go - Frou Frou
Somebody Told Me - The Killers
and
The Alphabet Lost and Found - They Might Be Giants


p.s. - Mary, your CD is in the mail although I may never forgive you for telling me who won the Apprentice this evening.

Two Angry Forces

I woke up this morning learning that two poingnant events took place 25 years ago today: Mount St. Helens erupted and Ian Curtis of Joy Division hung himself.

I was only 12 at the time--a seventh grader tucked away in a sleepy northern New Jersey town. Suffice it to say neither of those two events affected me at the time. Although I do remember seeing news reports of the blast, I lived 3,000 miles away from Washington State. And I can only assume Curtis's death barely made any news in the U.S., given the volcano's eruption. Even if it had, I didn't become a Joy Division fan for another four years, when New Order took off.

Today, I live within 100 miles of Mt. St. Helens and I'm listening to "Shadowplay" (although I guess I should be listening to Iggy Pop's The Idiot since that was what was on Curtis's turntable when his wife found him in the kitchen).

What a strange day it was.

Mt. St. Helens Photo from AP




Ian Curtis photo from NME

IF TODAY IS YOUR BIRTHDAY...

Your Horoscope for May 15, 2005

You will find yourself in quite a few situations where you have to fight for what you believe. Fortunately, you are not the sort to let others walk all over you, but there is no need to stomp your opponents into the ground. It might also help if you were not quite so touchy about criticism. Just because someone disagrees with you does not make him your enemy.

To celebrate my 37th birthday, I rolled out of bed at 7 a.m. (on a Sunday, no less) and ran Nordstrom's "Beat The Bridge" 8k during a torrential downpour. It opened my sinuses and alleviated the nasty allergy haze I've been under for the past few weeks. Not a bad way to start the day!

So as of today, I am:

13,514 days old
1,167,609,600 seconds
324,336 hours
1,930 weeks (rounded down)


I'll admit I was dreading adding another candle onto my birthday cake; but today I feel like a million bucks!

Coffee Break!

I just finished reading The Nanny Diaries last night--a breath of fresh air compared to my bleak Holocaust repertoire. It was actually a lot better than I thought it would be and as I read it, I wondered how two people collaborated together to co-write a book. I would imagine it'd be difficult to have the same voice coming from two different writers; unless, of course, one writer writes the protagonist and the other the antagonist.

Hmm, that might actually be fun!

And now back to more somber reading...which is getting me in the mood to do more editing.

Happy Mother's Day...and now, back to work!

If it wasn't for the gloomy weather, Mother's Day would have been perfect. Na and Pa treated me to brunch at Palisade, overlooking Elliot Bay and a misty view of the Space Needle. We enjoyed the banana/macadamia nut pancakes, fresh fruit and pastries until we were stuffed beyond words.

Then Na and Pa gave me a present from my favorite clothing store, tastefully wrapped in paper colored by Mr. Na himself.

But the best Mother's Day present of all was later at home, when Na laid his head on my lap as I stroked his head. I'm nuts about that kid and I couldn't picture my life without him in it. Hard to believe he's been "here" for half his little life already. Time has flown.

Pa's back out on the road again, leaving me and Na to hold down the fort until Friday. I've been editing my second chapter. All I can say is that this process is S-L-O-W. At the rate I'm going, Na will be off to college by the time I'm finished!

One woman's luck is another woman's misfortune

This day started out positively shitty. Actually, let me back up and start from yesterday when I accidentally locked the dog in my husband's office for a few hours; and then forgot to close the garage door.

We live on a fairly busy street in a nice, middle class neighborhood; however, I'd be lying if I didn't mention the prostitutes who conduct business less than a mile from here or the transients who come by late at night and knock on the door, offering to mow our lawn for money. This is a city and that's our reality. We still love it here.

So needless to say, when I discovered my garage door having been left open all night, I panicked. Not only are our bikes stowed there, but my husband has a woodshop with many tools.

It could have been worse--luckily only one bike was stolen; but it was my bike and I was PISSED. I was mad at everyone, including hubby because he wasn't home. And, since I didn't want to take my anger out on my son, I called his father:

PA: Hello?

MA: SOMEONE STOLE MY BIKE!

PA: How?

MA: I LEFT THE GARAGE DOOR OPEN ALL NIGHT, THAT'S HOW.

PA: Oh, shit! Did they take anything else?

MA: HOW SHOULD I KNOW? I DON'T HAVE AN INVENTORY OF YOUR TOOLS!

PA: Ok, well, I need you to calm down and...

MA: DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU...

NA: Mommy? I wanna go bye bye!

MA: Not now, honey, Mommy's yelling at Papa.

NA: Why?

PA: Yeah, why are you yelling at me?

MA: BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT HOME!

PA: This would have happened regardless if I was home or not.

MA: THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT...

I'll spare you the rest of the conversation. Especially because he was right. But after finding out we had a $500 deductible for theft loss, I was livid.

Fast forward to a few hours later, as I'm entering my neighborhood. Less than a block from my house, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a bike laying on the sidewalk. I stepped on the brakes.

NA: Mama, what was that?

MA: Is that my bike?

Sure enough, it was. I got out of the car, picked up the bike and put (as much as I could of) it in my trunk. A woman on her front porch waved to me.

WOMAN: Is that your bike?

MA: Yes, it was stolen from my garage last night, which I accidentally left open.

WOMAN: Oh, well, whoever stole it, stole my car!

MA: You're kidding?

WOMAN: Yep, right in front of my house.

MA: Was it unlocked?

WOMAN (blushing): Well, see, I have a baby...

MA: Say no more, my friend. I completely understand.

Anyway, I'm happy I have my bike but sad for my neighbor. Hopefully, the police can lift some fingerprints off of the bike.

On the plus side, it's nice to know I'm not the only one with "mommy memory".