School, Eventually
I feel compelled to tell you all that I started a post about the Beaner's first day of school on his actual first day of school—namely, last Wednesday—but I haven't had time to write about it while working, and I didn't feel like blogging at all this weekend. So I am both very virtuous and incredibly lazy.
I do plan to post about it eventually, really. It's just so hard to get my thoughts together, especially since I wasn't there in the classroom on that first day (Al was), and the phase-in schedule means that I barely make it to my desk before I have to go pick the Beaner up. The shortened workday doesn't leave much time for blogging... or for baking cookies for the parent pot-luck on Thursday night, for that matter. We admitted defeat tonight and got some mushroom pockets from Trader Joe's. (I'm dying to see if that's what every other equally-busy parent does, too.
Once normal blogging resumes, remind me to tell you about the books. Oh, the books! They're wonderful things.
The Purple Squishy Car in the Moleskine
On Monday morning, before leaving Lancaster (yeah, I know, I never announced that we'd be spending Labor Day weekend in Lancaster, PA, but the evidence that we did is on Flickr), I requested to be dropped off at the Borders Outlet for a while. I was still in a "need soothing" mode, and a wander around a bookstore with my Favorite Early Music playlist seemed like just the ticket. It wasn't, really; outlets aren't the same as real bookstores because the selection is random, and the shelving more so, but I tried to make the best of it and not let the chaos get to me.
The good news was that when I approached the register with a few books for the Beaner, I noticed a display of marked-down Moleskines. I bought several, including two of the classic unlined style. When the Beaner saw me unwrap one, he said, "Is that for ME?", and he sounded so excited that I said, "yes, it is." I figured that even though he already has a zillion handy-dandy notebooks, a Moleskine would be kind of special, and since I had two, it wasn't a big deal to part with one.
Our next stop was Miller's Smorgasboard (for a good stomach-stuffing before heading back to reality), but it wasn't open yet, so the Beaner and I sat at a table outside reading his new books and drawing in our Moleskines. I drew a picture of him; he requested sketches of Daddy and Mommy, and I obliged. He drew some colorful scribbles and a sketch of me.
That afternoon, after we arrived home, we did some more reading and drawing in the basement. I gave the Beaner a purple pencil to draw with, and he gave me an orange one. A few minutes later, he announced, "look, it's my purple squishy car!", and damn if it wasn't.
Meanwhile, it should not be surprising that my Moleskine so far has mostly words in it, rather than drawings. My drawing abilities are slim, and I like to doodle rather than sketch—and I'd much rather write down funny snippets of overheard conversations or brilliant ideas than either doodle or sketch. Regardless, I think I'll be setting aside Moleskine time for me and the Beaner on a fairly regular basis. It's fun to put down our ideas together.
A Buttload of Beaner
Yes, yes, I know, I haven't written the school post yet. I'm totally overloaded with writing a spec for my feature and two presentations for MAX, plus life in general. So why am I pausing to write this post now? Because it'll be quick (unlike the school post, which requires some more organized thinking), because I haven't written here in a long time, because I know you're all dying for some Beaner news, and because he's been dishing up the cute (and the combative) like crazy lately.
I really need to gather up all the notebooks and post-it notes in/on which I've written random things he's said or sung, because man, they're hilarious. Like the time he started singing his usual chorus of She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain as he marched around the dining room-kitchen-entryway loop, but then switched to, "I'll be reading on the couch when she comes... I'll be reading on the couch when she comes... I'll be reading on the couch, I'll be reading on the couch, I'll be reading on the couch when she comes!" He'd apparently picked up a book on one of his loops, because he then headed up the stairs to the living room, plopped himself on the couch, and started flipping through it.
Lately the Beaner has been obsessed with Steve from Blues Clues, to the extent that Al and I have been thinking of dressing him as Steve for Halloween. Consequently, we've been on the lookout for a green striped shirt. Apparently the Beaner has been, too—or else the green-and-blue striped shirt Al bought for him at the Children's Place Outlet set him off. Ever since, he's talked of nothing but green striped shirts. I'd already gotten him a green shirt with thin blue stripes, but apparently this wasn't good enough until we went in search of more striped options, and he spotted the same shirt in the store; when I told him it was the shirt I'd been trying to get him to wear every day for a week, he went, "oh" and put it on the next day. We now have no less than five variations on green striped shirts, but none exactly like Steve's. I hear eBay calling.
I hadn't talked to my parents in a while, so I called them up this evening and put the Beaner on the phone. He told them he was at home, with Mommy and Daddy; that he'd had a good day at school; that school was pretty fun. Then, out of nowhere, he offered this gem: "My mommy is called Lori, and my daddy is called Honey."
Tonight we were snuggling, and he asked me about the name of the man who works at the school. Mr. K______, I said, "the man who feeds the snake." It occurred to me then that maybe that wasn't such a good subject; his teacher had told us that the class pet was a snake, but that the kids would never see it eat. She planned to tell them, if they asked, that Mr. K fed it on the weekends. I had that in mind when I blurted out "the man who feeds the snake," but of course I didn't anticipate the next logical question, which was, "what does the snake eat?" Oops. Quick, change the subject!
No matter; the Beaner did it for me. "What's the snake's name?" he asked. I replied that he would need to tell me (this time, thankfully, I did not add what I was thinking, that his teacher had told us that the snake's name was Nagini, but that she'd be changing it). "It's Chase," he said, and then squealed, "S begins with yes!" which of course for me was a total non-sequitur. "Chase begins with 'ch'," I said, making the chuh sound. "Chuh?" he said. "Yep, chuh. You know what else begins with chuh? CHEESE!" I immediately tried to think of other "ch" words, while he repeated "CHEESE!"
"Checkers!"
"Checkers! I don't like checkers." [pause] "Peaches!"
"Interesting! Peaches doesn't begin with 'chuh', it begins with P, 'puh'— but there's a 'chuh' in the middle! Oh, I know, CHICKEN!"
"Chicken!" [pause while we both think] "And chair!"
"Cherry!"
"Wow, that was a good one! I'm not sure if you know this word, but it's a game: chess.
"Like Jess?"
"Yes, like Jess, only with a 'chuh' instead of a 'juh'."
"Stop saying the words now."
And about 30 seconds later, he was asleep.
(OK, that took longer than I thought. Back to the spec!)
A Little (OK, a LOT) of Noise for a Good Cause
It's a beautiful early fall day here in Philadelphia, with cool temperatures and dry air. No need for A/C, so I've had the windows open for the past few days to clear out the stuffiness. About 30 minutes ago, however, the noise became unbearable, and I had to shut the ones in the front of the house at least. At the same time, I took at look out the window to see where all that racket was coming from, and spotted a Streets Department worker jackhammering at a signpost.
I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I ran outside to inquire just in case... and was rewarded with exactly the news I was hoping to get: WE ARE GETTING A STOP SIGN AT 21st AND CHERRY!!! The Streets Department worker of whom I inquired was very friendly about it and smiled at my enthusiasm. I know it's unlikely that most cars will actually stop at this new stop sign, but I'm hoping it will at least slow them down and get them to consider whether there's some traffic on Cherry Street waiting patiently to cross 21st. I'm also hoping there'll be fewer incidents like this:
...and that there'll be no need to change the name of my Why We Need a Stop Sign at 21st and Cherry photoset on Flickr to Why We Need a Stop LIGHT at 21st and Cherry. Please people, OBEY THE SIGN!
And thank you, thank you, thank you to whoever gave the order to the lovely Streets Department workers making such a racket outside.
So I Says to Myself, "Self...."
I still need to go around the house collecting all the random bits of paper and notebooks on/in which I've scribbled the hilarious things the Beaner's said lately, but one that I haven't written down yet just occurred to me thanks to Julie's post about Schmooieisms.
I think this started on Friday after school, so I'm assuming he picked it up there... although maybe it's something I say without realizing it. "That's an X, I said to myself" he'll say, or "I said to myself..." and then trail off. I always expect him to add "Self," to that last, but he doesn't. Even without it, he ends up sounding like W.C. Fields.
Vivitar IC101
I've been admiring the photos Heather's been taking with her Vivitar Ultra Wide & Slim for a while now, but I was really impressed with some of the shots she got with it on the latest leg of the Flickr World Tour. At the same time, epmd put the idea in my head to go looking for funky old film cameras.
Thus is was that I started an eBay keyword search for "vivitar". I figured I'd just see how much a Vivitar cost, and go from there. I found a few Ultra Wide & Slims for seven or eight dollars from a seller in the UK, but I didn't bite right away. Instead I bid on a new-in-box Vivitar IC101 Panoramic, just for shits and giggles. The minimum bid was $4.99, and the shipping was $5. I ended up being the only biddder, so for $9.99, the camera was mine.
Al's first remark when I opened the box was, "aren't those the kind of cameras companies *give away* as swag?" Uh, yeah. It's cheap plastic, light as a feather, requires no batteries as far as I can tell, and creaks under the pressure of my thumb when I advance or rewind the film. Perfect! Well, perfect for using up all the expired film I have lying around the house.
I used to shoot film quite a bit, but when I moved out of San Francisco and no longer had access to the dark room at the Harvey Milk Center, I let my film stores languish. I still take my Minolta x700 out from time to time, but after the instant gratification of the digital cameras, I found I was impatient waiting for film to be developed, and I grew annoyed at the expense. I also grew annoyed at the snobby film store employees who couldn't understand why I only wanted a CD and negatives, not prints ("why not just shoot digital, if all you want is a CD?"). I didn't think I should have to explain.
Anyway, back to the Vivitar and the expired film. I've got film canisters all over the place, some still in the boxes with dates on them (mostly 2004 and 2005), and some not (these could date as far back as 2000-2002, I'd guess). I figured that if I stuck these rolls in the IC101, took the camera with me on errands or my morning walk, and then got the film processed and scanned onto a photo CD at a local drugstore, it wouldn't be prohibitively expensive, and I might get some interesting results. Not beautiful, maybe, but interesting.
I picked up my first roll of 400CN (expired 10/2005) from CVS this morning, and I must say that I was pretty pleased with the results. As with everything I shoot, some shots worked and some didn't; some errors were the fault of the camera, some were mine. But once in a while, the two of us collaborated to make something special. Oh: before I get to the shots I like, I should probably mention that what Vivitar means by "panoramic" is not the same as what Kodak meant when it released its panoramic cameras that took special film, or what the Horizon will turn out. Vivitar means that it takes ordinary 35mm frames and letterboxes them.
This, as you can probably guess, totally confounded the film processing machines at CVS, so I got my negatives back as a taped roll rather than cut, and the JPGs on the CD didn't break at the right spots. Instead, up to a quarter of the previous frame would be included with up to three quarters of the next one. This isn't an entirely unpleasant side effect, and in fact enhanced at least one photo, in my opinion:
I also kind of like the black bands of letterboxing, and I especially like how the upper edge of the frame is a bit ragged, giving a sort of sloppy borders effect.
I took a mix of shots, experimenting with architectural details, different kinds of light, and following motion, as in the case of the two shots I took of bicyclists.
I also tried a few vertical shots.
I like the slight distortion around the edges of the frame, which give some of the shots a surreal quality. I have no idea about the technical specs for the IC101 other than what I've read here; there was nothing aside from the label "focus free" on or inside the box. I can tell from looking through the viewfinder (which is cropped as the photos will be—helpful!) that the lens is pretty wide.
In any case, I've got my next roll (a standard Kodak 400 color film that I think I bought in bulk at Costco and that expired in February or April of 2004) in the camera now, and will post the results, if any, to Flickr. Just look for the vivitarIC101 tag.
Rockin' Girl Bloggers
So guess what? Yesterday Schmutzie commented to say that she'd given me an award: The Rockin' Girl Blogger Award. I think it makes me sound a bit like a 22 year-old punk rocker banging out the angst on my keyboard—in other words, hipper than I actually am. If it weren't for the hair, I wouldn't have much credibility on the hip front.
And speaking of my hair, the award kind of matches it:
Anyway, now it's my turn to pass on the love. I know some rockin' women bloggers out there who are wicked hip (or just wicked wacky, which in my book earns bonus points). Please go check out:
- Valerie. It says right in her tagline that she's not glamorous or hip, but I suspect that's only because she doesn't have time. She teaches computer programming, violin, and Tango; plays in a band called Tango Mucha Labia; dances regularly; makes her own jam and pickles; chops wood; maintains her car and her house; studies permaculture.... and I know I'm forgetting a few things. She's an inspiration to me daily.
- If you hadn't heard, Mainely Madge is back, and she's Madgetastic!
- Here's a twofer: The amazingly creative Summer Pierre turned me on to a college friend who homeschools in Vermont. Their lives are so different from mine, and so interesting.
OK, I can think of tons more, actually, but I promised myself I'd log off the computer at 10pm, and it's now 10:08. No time for updating my blogroll with the actual blogs I've been reading via RSS feed lately; that will have to wait until tomorrow, at which point you'll be able to see many more lovely ladies whom I've been reading regularly. Rock it, chiquitas!
My Body Is Trying to Tell Me Something
I've got the blurry vision that precedes a migraine right now, which means that half the screen is obscured. Please forgive any typos; I'm trusting my touch-typing skills, which seem to be getting worse the longer I work on computers.
When I realized this migraine was coming, roughly 15 minutes ago—after applying some bleach to my roots, I came over to the Mac to check the time so I'd know when to wash the stuff out, and had to squint to read the numbers—I couldn't help but laugh. Of course I have a migraine coming. It makes sense. Last night while out shopping with the Beaner, I suddenly felt absolutely terrible while standing in the middle of DiBruno Bros. I felt sluggish and weird and desperately in need of sleep.
At that very moment, the Beaner finally hit one what he wanted for dinner: avocado rolls. So I called Al for Tampopo's number, told him I felt terrible, and then called slurred in my order. On the walk from 18th Street to 21st Street, I actually dozed off. Thank god I had hold of the stroller handle, which I used to regain my balance when I started to stumble. I've dozed off while driving before, but never while walking.
The Beaner asked on the way home if he could see what was in the bag. I said, "spicy pork and avocado rolls." He then asked what I was going to eat. Clever kid, to realize that the pork was for Daddy, and the rolls were for him—or maybe that I'd only read off two items. In any case, I told him that Mommy wasn't feeling well, and didn't want to eat. "But you have to eat!" he said. "You'll feel better."
Al was home by the time we arrived back, so I handed him dinner and announced that I'd be sending my boss two updates and then going to bed. At this point, in addition to feeling exhausted and slow, I was also feeling nauseous.
The timing was such that the Beaner was done in the bathtub at the same time I finished my updates. He asked to watch Blues Clues, and we explained to him that because Mommy wasn't feeling well, his options were these: 1. Watch Blues Clues and have Daddy put him to bed, or 2. Go to bed now and have Mommy snuggle him. After protesting that he wanted Blues Clues *and* Mommy a couple times, he opted for #2.
As we climbed into his bed, he said, "I wish I could feel you better." I told him how sweet that was, and how much I would love it if he *could* make my tummy ache go away. "I'll snuggle your neck, and that will make your tummy feel better," he said. What ended up making me feel best of all is that he conked out at 8:50, and I was able to crawl into my own bed. I was out as soon as the 15 minute sleep timer on my Alexander Hamilton audiobook went off, and I slept for 10 hours.
I woke up with a headache, but I took some Tylenol and went for my morning walk anyway. Which brings us up to date: I came back, put the bleach in my hair, aaaaaaaannnd.... migraine. Why, hello, body. Do you have a message for me?