is it just me?

that's what SHE said. heh heh.

where time goes, I know not. let's see...

last friday I went to the urgent care clinic because I was pretty sure I had a sinus infection. I did, and it was excruciating, but I encourage you to know what the symptoms are because near as I can tell being diagnosed with one requires telling your medical professional that is what you have, and then they give you antibiotics. So, if you lean over and feel like murdering a small mammal because the pain in your eyes is so bad, then head on over to your doctor and tell them OW. So, that was fun. Anyway, I arrived at the clinic and someone there was leaving in an ambulance. Whoops. Apparently they blew the "urgent care or ER" judgment call we have all made at least once in our lives. Too bad for them.

The last time I was at urgent care was in August 2006 when I was 9 months pregnant. I had been playing badminton with some friends and on the way to get a short shot I caught the toe of my flip flop, fell on the ground (everyone gasped) and the next day my thumb was about three times its normal size and purple. I thought this was a pretty awesome injury for someone in my delicate condition. Anyway, I walked in and the receptionist looked vaguely terrified and was all ready to tell me I was in the wrong place. HA! Like I would go to that nasty germ filled clinic if I thought there was any chance I was gonna have a kid. Honestly. If I thought I was in labor would I be casually waiting in line? I don't think so. By that point in pregnancy everyone kind of looks at you like you are a freak anyway, but try going to a clinic. Turns out it was just a nasty sprain, and my thumb is looking pretty sweet in all the first pictures of baby lizard who was born just three days later. The other good thing was that they put two lead vests on me to take xrays and when they took them off that was the lightest I had felt in months.

I wish

I could suck at something as much as Eli Manning "sucks" at football. In the lounge at work last week two grad students were discussing the super bowl. One of them says "I can't believe Eli Manning is in there. Doesn't he suck?" And that, ladies and gentleman, is why it sucks to be Eli Manning. I know, I know his NFL career did not get off to that great of a start, but he was a first round draft pick. He is an NFL quarterback, making him arguably one of the 32 best quarterbacks in the country. And yet, skinny economists from Wisconsin sit around and talk about how he sucks because his brother and father are totally amazing and his brother now pimps everything possible thing on tv and seems like a super good guy. So, sorry Eli. I feel bad for you. And I wish I was as bad at something as you are.

still winter

just in case you were wondering, spring is not right around the corner here in Wisconsin. Yesterday school was closed because it was so cold out. Awesome. So, I stayed home with the kid and tried to think of ways to entertain ourselves that did not involve going outside at all for any reason. I know groundhog day is coming, but really no matter what that little chipmunk says (I know, I know, it's not a chipmunk) it is going to be winter for more than 6 more weeks around here. Do not taunt me. I have lived here long enough to know that some time in late March, just when I am thinking that maybe, just maybe, winter is almost over, it will snow two feet and THEN it will only be six more weeks until spring. Bastards. Some people say they don't want to live somewhere that doesn't have all four seasons, and while I agree with that sentiment I would like to live somewhere that the four seasons are of approximately equal length. Here we have two seasons: winter and August. blech.

I paid her to say that

So my current favorite twinkie aerobics instructor is a young woman named Jen. She's pretty awesome. I posted about her before when she asked if I was going to teach zumba. Anyway, now she is my extra super duper favorite because she was SHOCKED to find out that I have a kid. God bless her for that. Seriously, someone looking at me wide eyed and saying "you have a baby?" was so great. It meant that I still wear cool jeans and look relatively hip, things which young women assume automatically disappear the second you give birth. Maybe it's because I don't wear a giant t-shirt and some old soccer shorts while working out, or have a bad mid-length hairdo like all the other 'ladies' in my class. And while I am not sure I want anyone thinking I look like a college student (well, she did say grad student which may or may not be better) I was pretty freakin happy about the whole thing. That's how easy it is to make my day, ladies and gentleman. Tell me I don't look like hell. Seriously, that's all it takes.

my alarm goes off at 6:40 and I have it set to NPR. Apparently NPR reports the weather at 6:40:10 so just as I am contemplating getting up they tell me that it is ridiculously horribly freezing outside again so I get pissed off and hit snooze. 6:40 is too early to be angry, but this weather is really making me mad. This morning it was -10 degrees outside when I left the house. I walk around in long underwear, lined boots, gloves AND mittens (just in case I need to take off my muppet hands so I can actually do something), a giant down parka, etc. I pull up my scarf so only my eyes are showing, and I am still cold. And yet, every morning I see students walking around with no hats. NO HATS. It is -10 degrees outside and they are throwing their ears to the wolves. So, are they just not cold? Are they used to it? Do they love frostbite? What? Maybe I am just a wimp, but whatever. I will walk around like Nanuk of the North until further notice.

It is becoming more clear to me every day why everyone I know moves to Southern California and never leaves.

Practically the same thing

As I was thinking about personal drivers the other day, I remembered a story that I never got to tell you because I was on hiatus. In August I had to go to a meeting in Newark. (As an aside, Newark is every bit as awful as everyone says. Sorry to any Newarkians, but it is really a pit.) Anyway, I decided to go see my sister in Brooklyn for dinner, and then go to the hotel which was by the Newark airport. She called me a car service to get me over there. They showed up super late, and the driver (to my surprise) was an Asian woman. I believe my feelings on the driving competence of Asian women is documented here, and while I am sure there are some that are really good drivers, most are not. I assumed this woman would be an exception, since she was a professional driver after all. I was sorely mistaken. She punched the destination into her GPS, but really seemed like she had no idea where she was going. More troubling, however, was her complete disregard for basic traffic rules and practices, such as not stopping in the middle of a lane at a green light, not driving with the lane line directly centered under the middle of your car, trying not to hit people. You know, that kind of stuff. So much to my relief we get out of the city without incident and appear to be headed for New Jersey. But despite the GPS, you can tell she has no idea where she is going. She drives by what I am fairly sure is the turn off, but when I mention it she waves me off. Then I can tell she is following signs for the Marriott airport hotel, which is not where I am going. I was going to a Marriott affiliate, one mile from the airport. So I say "no, it's not the one at the airport" and she says "don't worry, don't worry". Um...it's a little late for that. After she stopped dead after entering a relatively fast moving road, and proceeded to drive (straddling the lane line) at about 35mph, I texted to my sister "I think the driver is trying to kill me." So, we get to the Marriott, I tell her that is not the Courtyard Marriott, and it is not the place that I have reservation, nor is it the place where I am meant to be at a meeting at 8am the next day and she says (get this) "Practically the same thing!". Well, perhaps. But there is one crucial difference: IT IS NOT WHERE I AM GOING. So they give her directions to the right place, we proceed to go in a circle three times, I finally demand that she hand me the directions and I order her around until we get there. Uff da. So, if you are going to get a driver I might recommend a few test drives with them, just to be safe.

is that a meth lab in your pocket?
I have had a cold/sinus thing for about a month now, and it is getting kind of old. I have forgotten what my normal voice sounds like. Seriously. Anyway, I decided I wanted some Sudafed. I did not realize purchasing Sudafed was more difficult than sneaking across the Mexico border. First, it is behind the counter, which is fine. Then, you have to show your driver's license. And THEN you have to sign for it. For one box of Sudafed. Now, I will admit, I have never made meth (and probably will never do so after the whole Matt sets himself on fire thing in Nip/Tuck) but I imagine it takes a lot of Sudafed. A lot more than one box. And I know the idea is that they want to make sure I don't buy one box here and another there and so on and so forth until I can start my own lab. But seriously, a 30-something mom with a head cold wants of box of HEAD DECONGESTANT, don't you think they could apply common sense rules? In fact, I was denied purchase of some other drug last winter because I had entered the pharmacy without my license. It's so silly. I think they should look at me: is my hair stringy? (okay, maybe that's a judgment call.) do I look too thin? (definitely not.) strung out? ( a little glassy eyed, perhaps, mostly due to the fact that I can't breathe.) And then decide if they need to go all Fort Knox on me. But, I showed them my license, signed my name, handed over my first born (she's been super cranky anyway) and got the goods. I must say, though, I can see why people like that meth stuff, because on just two Sudafed I feel perkier than I have in weeks. Yay for that.

While we are on the subject of nutrition, I got an email yesterday that was sent to a group of moms that I am friendly with. The woman had several things to share with us, including that her daughter loves Whole Foods granola bars but she hates giving her all that sugar, so she found something called a LaraBar which is sweetened with dates (blech) and filled with fruit. And she's so happy and they're so great and she and her prodigy organic baby are going to live happily ever after. And you know what: I seriously cannot take shit like that AT ALL. It drives me insane almost instantly. I had to delete them email so I would not be tempted to reread it and be filled with rage. Why? I don't know. I mean, it's innocent enough, 'I found a good thing for you to feed your kid'. But the mention of Whole Foods (which I adore) and the whole attitdue of the teh message felt like she was trying to prove what an awesome parent she was. Which she may well be, but not because she feeds her kid candied dates. I have this problem with a lot of highly educated pseudo-hippy moms (and here in Madison we have a LOT of those). If I really loved my kid I would still have her in my bed nursing all night and when we're not bonding skin to skin we would engage only in really educational activities. We would go to fancy classes for music and whatever and she would know 100 baby signs and everything would be wholesome and organic and amazing. I definitely would not work full time and leave my child with (gasp) strangers who are undoubtedly polluting both her body and her mind. Can you tell I'm bitter about this? Of course it's only because of my own insecurity about parenting choices but at least I do not send out emails about them. So after reading that message I stuffed baby lizard full of swedish fish and fanta, let her watch a lot of inappropriate television and sent her to bed. so there.

on Thursday I went to pick our babysitter for the basketball game. Unfortunately our sitter who can drive herself to our house appears to have fallen in love with a Frenchman and is now studying abroad for the second time in three semesters. Boo to that. Anyway, teh babysitters's mother says "Do you want to bring The Closer DVD?" and she replies "No, I'm bringing Vonnegut." hahaha. I love it. It is so classic college freshman cool I can hardly stand it. She goes to school in Montana and usually her sister babysits, but she is home on break and has a later weeknight curfew. Sure as shit, she was laying on the couch reading Vonnegut when we got home. Very busy being worldly and intellectual. Her sister is always doing homework when we come home, even on a Friday. I babysat A LOT as a younger person and I do not think I was ever doing homework when anyone came home. Ever. It's too bad none of them watch TV because that is our greatest amenity. We have HBO. We never have much of anything good to eat, but we do have entertainment. Our voyaging babysitter is always simultaneously watching some movie on cable and checking her email when we get home which is, frankly, as it should be. (This coming from the girl who loves American Gladiators, so perhaps a grain of salt is necessary.)

Speaking of American Gladiators, I know everyone is saying that it is what is wrong with TV with the writers strike, but I beg to differ. At least it is entertaining. Deal or No Deal...THAT is what is wrong with TV. That show is so boring it makes my eyes bleed. Basically it is a flashy class in basic probability, and never have I made it through more than 5 minutes, and that time I think I might actually have been temporarily paralyzed by boredom and distress and was unable to turn the TV off. I did feel kind of sad for the people that won Golden Globes last night and had to settle for having their names unceremoniously read by two people they picked up off the street. I know awards shows are kind of silly, but still. They won and people usually care that you win so you should get to win at a party instead of a press conference. And I will miss all the fashion police pictures and catty commentary. Boo.

Last night in the grocery store I thought I had lucked out because I found a checker with no line. Then I looked at her and thought maybe she was retarded, but then I reminded myself that usually those people are the baggers, so I proceeded. I was fishing out my bags (side note: I bring my own paper bags to the store. Grocery stores hate this. They do not want my old, wrinkled, mismatched bags, as they are not nearly as convenient to fill. However, they are not supposed to say anything so they just give you this look like "f'ing tree hugger" and begrudgingly give you your 10 cents off. Ha. I win.) and as I turn around I see she is smearing chapstick all over the backs of her hands. Ew. It's cold, and it's winter, and I am no stranger to skin revolting at the harsh conditions, but seriously. Chapstick? On your hands? While handling food? Ew. At this point I decided it was too late to tell her I did not want some waxy freak filling my well loved bags, so I just went ahead. Unfortunately, she was also slow as molasses. Rather than just scan all the items through and then bag, she would pick and choose the next item based on what she wanted to put in the bag. Do you have any idea how long this takes? About 4o times as long as normal. Seriously. And she was totally grouchy. As an impulse purchase (and I am not necessarily proud about this) I had gotten some malted milk balls from the bulk food. This proved to be highly erroneous. First she reported she had no idea what the code was for "malted milk or whatever this was" and rather than, say, look it up, she just put them back on the belt. Like magically the problem would solve itself. Finally some other employee went to check, but by the end of the whole debacle I was seriously regretting my purchase. So I ate them all on the way home and pretended it never happened. That gave me the energy I needed to de-chapstickify my remaining purchases.

happy monday.

"No, really John. Thanks a lot for the endorsement. I mean...it's great. I..um...appreciate it. Maybe it would be best if we didn't hang out a lot together or anything. Just so, you know, the other candidates don't feel jealous. Or whatever."

haha. In fairness, this is a 2004 photo and I am sure does not actually reflect how Barack feels, but still. (I stole this from the nytimes.com it is an AP Photo and I am sure they have the copyright.) The other good news about this being a 2004 photo is that it kind of explains the LiveStrong bracelet which otherwise would be kind of tragic. I find it funny that they picked this picture, though today they have one of Obama looking much happier about the whole thing. But maybe they were trying to say that Obama (whose initials are unfortunatly B.O. which probably caused him some trouble at some point in his youth) might not be leaping for joy. Is an endorsement from John Kerry really all that great? Apparently even the Kerry camp isn't sure that it is, since they held the announcement until after the New Hampshire primary since they were not sure what the 'political impact' would be. I mean, the guy couldn't beat George Bush when he ran the SECOND time. So really, that doesn't say that many great things about him. But oh well, Obama can put him on the list and make him go places and say nice things about him. But let's be honest: he is better off with Oprah on his side than John Kerry, which is probably a sad statement about American politics but there you have it.

I actually watched live coverage of the New Hampshire primary the other night, which has to be a first for me. It was quite exciting! Although MSNBC was seriously abusing their fancy new technology, all of which is very iPhone-esque. Sometimes the reporters were so enamored with showing off the way they could move photos around that their accompanying commentary made no sense. Hopefully they will tone it down a little over the course of the election. I love democracy, and I love voting, so I am happy that everyone is so excited about it. This is going to be quite the election year indeed.

go big red

last night we got to go to a UW basketball game which was super fun as always. They were playing Illinois and it's funny for me to see Bruce Weber right there on the floor since for me he is one of those tiny people who lives in my television. I watch a lot of college hoops so I see all the coaches on TV, but then I get kind of confused when I see them live. Fortunately our basketball arena has a fancy scoreboard with a TV so if I get overwhelmed I can just watch there. haha. A few years ago Dick Vitale came to do the commentary on a Badger game. I was nearly beside myself, and forced my husband to go stalk him with me at our local Borders where he was signing his book. Since I had absolutely no interest in actually purchasing the book, and you really could only get him to talk to you if you were asking him to sign it, I pretended to be browsing the shelves around his table for a while. I am such a dork. I mostly wanted to know if he talks like that in real life and the answer is mostly yes, but he's a lot calmer. It was kind of cool because there were two high school boys there and he asked the first one if he played basketball (of course he did) and then he said do you know (insert name of good h.s. player here) and his friend said "that's me!" HA! How awesome would it be to have Dick Vitale know who you are before he met you? Apparently the kid was a top prospect and so Dickie V asked him where he wanted to go and the guy said Stanford and Dick told him to keep his grades up. Good suggestion. Anyway, there I was skulking in the aisles pretending to look at cookbooks or something. My life is very glamorous.

So, I was watching the cheerleaders to tricks last night, and they have some good ones. I don't think cheerleading in general is all that great, as a no look pass makes me want to 'Get On My Feet and Make Some Noise!' more than some co-ed in a short skirt holding a piece of posterboard that says "GO!" but still. I can't do flips or hoist other girls onto my shoulders so I shouldn't judge. I think I really got turned off to cheerleading because my high school and my university did not allow stunts, and cheerleading without stunts is boring. Here, the dance team does cheerleading without stunts and they shuffle around in their horrible nude tights and soft shoes and wave their pom poms and do not get anyone excited about anything. At Duke, they banned stunts because some girl years ago got very seriously injured, so they decided cheerleaders should not really leave the ground. This just shows that cheerleading is not a sport. Can you imagine if Duke decided they would only play touch football because someone got hurt? I mean, I feel badly for the girl who got dropped on her head, but that is a risk that you take when you engage in physical endeavors. Anyway, it meant all the cheers were boring but I have a new appreciation since here they do lots of flips and stuff. The end.

finally it is the weekend which is good news because baby Lizard has decided that sleeping lots of hours in a row is really not her cup of tea which is causing mama Lizard to be extremely cranky and look like hell. so hopefully I will be back up to par next week.

Go Packers!

If you have not watched the return of American Gladiators, you should. I got very excited when I saw the ad for this on tv. Very excited. I have very fond, nostalgia-fueled memories of watching this show while wasting late morning hours in the summertime. I knew all the gladiators, probably had a crush on at least one of them, and would get heart pumpingly involved in every episode. I am extremely happy to report that it is just as good as it always was. From the cheesy forced smack talking, to the Gladiators' lame-o signature moves, to the excitment of watching physical battle, it's all there. They have not ruined it at all. And let me tell you something - it looks hard! So, I am not really very strong, and not especially athletic. For most of the events it would go something like this "Eek! Sploosh!" Since it now seems that losing almost every challenge involves falling in water. When Laila Ali interviewed me she would say "So, Lizard, another tough event with no points. What are you going to do to get back in this match?" And I would have to say something like "Well, Laila, I'm a fighter. I mean, I don't want to fight you or any other real fighter, but still. I didn't get here by giving up. So I am just going to give it my best shot." Even though everyone would know I was in for another half hour of getting my ass kicked, perhaps culminating in a show ending injury when some other poor soul would have to take my place and get my zero points. So I have decided that perhaps it is not wise for me to try to go on the show, but I am going to try to convince every single physically fit person I know to do so. My sister-in-law is really strong. She should do it. I would totally help her pick her name.

One sad thing was there was a contestant who had been trying to get on the show since it was on the air last time. Fourteen years ago. Seriously, it seemed like this was his big dream for the last 14 years. He was supposed to be on there in te 90s but got stuck in traffic and missed his chance, and finally got the opportunity to live out his dream. Unfortunately, in the end he got schooled by this tiny asian dude and had to cry about it on national tv. Oops. So much for that dream. Better luck next time.

Okay, the last you heard from me I was taking a day off to prepare for my vacation. Unfortunately part of that day was spent at the mall with all the marginal teenage help that seems to materialize this time of year. The highlight perhaps was the salesgirl at a children’s clothing shop who, when I inquired about holiday dresses said to me “um…they came in in October, so all we have left is going to be here on the clearance rack” with such an air of superiority that I could have smacked her. She might as well have said “all the moms who actually love their children bought their dresses months ago”. Little witch. Did it ever occur to you that myabe, just maybe, I had something better to do in OCTOBER than shop for holiday wear? So I showed her and bought what I can only imagine was a spring dress which she clearly did not approve of. I wanted to tell her the only reason I was even patronizing her wretched establishment was because I got a gift from there that did not fit.

Anyway, several days of preparation ensued and then it was time to head East. On Saturday morning the airline called to say our flight was late. No problem, we were flying direct so would just delay our departure from home. Then they called again to say it would be later. Still no big deal. We dropped off the dog, wasted a couple of hours on the other side of town and headed to the airport, only to find out that the entire airport was closed, our flight was cancelled, and there were no options for at least two days, maybe longer. Um….so…when you called me to say my flight was leaving at 3pm that was…wishful thinking? A ruse? What? And they felt that cancellation wasn’t news that should be delivered via phone, and it would be much more fun to tell me in person? So we unknowingly step into mass chaos, and are told that we can get on a bus that is leaving in 15 minutes for Minneapolis (a five hour ride) spend the night, and we are booked (though not given seats) on a flight that is supposed to leave at 7:15 the next morning. This all seems like a really, really bad idea. A quick family huddle later, we decide to drive. It was a rash decision at best, and a completely foolish one at worst, but before I have time to think too hard about it I get back in line, cancel my tickets and request a refund, and head for the door. We did not go home, we did not pass go, we just got on the highway and started driving east. Things I wish I had with me for a cross country drive: a map, some toys for the kid, some food for the kid, some Benadryl for the kid, our I-Pass and, um…I guess that’s it. The first three were solved by an extensive convenience store run, the latter I wished for again when she was bright eyed and bushy tailed in the middle of West Virginia at 1am. I think my mother was a touch alarmed when I called and asked her to get on the computer and get us directions. "From where?" she says. "Um...Madison to Charlottesville?" And so we headed that way, armed with a list of interstates scribbled on the back of a receipt that I found in my car door. Who needs plans? It was all very spontaneous and potentially exciting and romantic, but truthfully there is nothing romantic about driving through Ohio so in the end it was functional. And we arrived a least 6 hours earlier than we would have had we come via airplane. So there.

The drive from here to VA is not all that great. Chicago, Indianapolis, Dayton, Charleston. Heading for a city and carefully counting the miles only to realize that now there is just another city and another set of miles. At some point we need to stop (for like the billionth time, traveling unprepared with a small child is not an exercise in efficiency) and we are getting mileage readings for the town of Chillicothe, OH so we decide to head there. We pull off at the first exit, and we are seriously in a town that time forgot. We see a gas station, but upon closer inspection realize it’s closed. We stop at a scary convenience store, and pray they have a bathroom (they do not) and ask for the nearest gas station which is several blocks through town but 24 hours. I was forced to use their bathroom which was one of those weird quasi-public restrooms where it kind of seems like it is for employees only and has a bunch of weird stuff stashed in there. You couldn’t wash your hands in the sink because it was full. You know, that kind of place. Usually on interstates you get to stop at these huge over lit gas stations will full grocery stores and inexplicably friendly employees, but not in Chillicothe. Actually, maybe in Chillicothe as we realized later that the next exit looked much more promising, and much less horror movie-esque. Mr. Lizard made the decision to drive straight through, so we did. We hit some crazy fog in the West Virginia mountains at a time of day when no sane soul is awake, feared for our lives, but eventually made it to my parents’ house at 6 am. Good times. The lowlight of the trip: watching my one year old stuff 24-hour McDonald’s French fries into her piehole at 1am. The highlight: the beauty of NPR podcasts, which mean you can listen to Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me in the middle of the night anywhere in America. Bless my husband for brining along his iPod.

Then the usual week of holiday craziness ensued. Too many people in too little space but it was fun to see my nieces and nephew, and wallow in pent up family issues for a while. The whole trip had the dark cloud of the drive back hanging over it, but in the end it was really easy and actually might have convinced me to drive again if the need arose. While in VA we purchased a portable DVD player and some movies, something which I highly recommend if you are planning on driving 15 hours with a midget. Worth every penny.

Things have been kind of chaotic since we got back but not in an interesting way so we’ll leave it at that. Hopefully regular posting will now resume in earnest.