Happy Pumpkin Day!

I am pumpkin. Hear me roar.

Clearly I have too much time on my hands and Dae has too much tolerance for stupid people tricks. Happy Halloween!

Stiff by Mary Roach

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, a book written by Mary Roach and published in 2004, is the kind of book that makes me wonder why I never wonder about the same things other people do. So Roach has all these questions: what happens when people donate their bodies "for science"? how do they figure out what happens when bodies decompose in various climactic conditions? what's with the coffins and the whole mortuary industry? How come I never wondered ANY of these questions? But when Roach points them out to me, of course I'm interested!!

This book is about dead bodies.

It is also hilarious without being disrespectful in any way to the cadavers. I even read this book over breakfast, so although dead bodies get mentioned (quite a lot, actually), it's rarely so explicitly disgusting that a strong stomach is required to read it. Roach is dry, droll, and insatiably curious, and I am totally putting her other books Bonk and Spook on my to read list.

Go read this book. And laugh. A great read for the Halloween weekend.

45 x 365 #246

246/365 - JC

My first crush, my first honest to goodness kiss, my first broken heart. I talked to you two years ago Christmastime when I saw you working for security at the mall where my sister works. Still sweet, unambitious, and small town to your very core.

Pet Peeves, Some Controversial

1) Pre-printed holiday cards, especially the ones with the family picture on them that say, "Happy Holidays from the Harrises." That's weak, people. Take the extra time to write a personal note to people, especially if they are the type of people with whom your only communication is the damn holiday card. I'd rather a smart ass, "Hi! I'm still alive!" on my card than an impersonal family portrait. I get that you're trying to save time, but really, it's just rude and telling people you're too busy for them. I'd rather not get sent a card at all than to have to figure out what to do with another holiday card from Shutterfly. I hate those things. With a fiery passion that is reserved for people who don't use turn signals or cart corrals.

2) People whose profile pictures are pictures of someone else, particularly their children. Look, it's fine if you want to use an inanimate object to represent yourself. Maybe you don't want your pictures on the Interwebs for all the world to see. That's cool, yo. For the longest time my picture was flowers (ironic that since I dislike most flowers) so I don't mean to say that your profile picture has to be a picture of you. BUT, don't put your kid's picture up there. Last I checked, you were your own damn person and not your kid. So don't. Just don't. Unless you want an irate email from me. Which, maybe that's your thing. See how razzed up you can get NGS.

3) Wet Octobers. Frankly, I didn't know this was a pet peeve until this past month. The rain people. It is killing me. We try to plan exciting Halloween-activities like corn mazes and haunted houses and ghost tours, only to be constantly discouraged by the weather. Either it is raining and I don't want to stand out in the rain for hours and hours in the rain or it has just finished raining and everything is soggy. Even as I type this, the rain is pouring down outside my window.

Also, the overabundance of rain this month (it's like 350% above normal) means that the trees aren't really changing color. The leaves are simply falling off. Estoy mal.

4) The water situation in our apartment building. We get charged for water in our building in a very unfair way. Basically, our management company is too cheap to meter the individual units, so they get a bill for our building and then divide it up by the number of occupied units and we all get to pay an even share. Which is just plain silly because some units have only one person in them, some have up to four or five, some units have babies, some don't, some have dishwashers, some don't. It's just ridiculous and every time I write out the check for water, I feel my blood pressure rising at the simply unfairness of it all.

Let's not even get into how we have to pay to use the washer and the dryer but then pay AGAIN because the water used by the washer is also figured into our water bill. *sigh* I clearly need to stop overthinking the water thing and just be happy we have safe water available.

5) The Simpson's postage stamps. Why aren't they cooler looking? I mean, seriously. Did Matt Groening have a say in which images were used? Because, other than the Maggie stamp, they are all spectacularly boring. Just saying.

45 x 365 #245

245/365 - AC

Isn't it interesting when someone grows up to be unrecognizable in spirit from who she was when she was a child? You were sweet, kind, but now a bold, snobby woman. I missed your in between time and I wish I knew what happened then.

45 x 365 #244

244/365 - PB

You were the boy everybody wanted to be, wanted to be around, and just plain wanted. Quiet, kind, a nice car. Through a weird twist of fate, you drove me home once and I found myself confused by your sudden burst of masculinity and aggressiveness.

45 x 365 #243

243/365 - RB

You're a cloud in my memory. The youngest of three boys? Or was it four? A football player? Or wrestler? Your eyes curved up, always looking like a smile, but that is all I can put into words without a question mark trailing at the end.

Scattered

He's an incredibly scatterbrained man.

It is the little things. We are halfway to our destination, going to look at a camera he found for sale on Craig's List, before he realizes that has left both his cell phone and his wallet at home. One time we are halfway to Iowa before he realizes that, once again, he has left his wallet at home. Another time, we are taking a friend to the airport before heading to a baseball game and we are driving away before I think to ask him if he has the tickets. Of course not. They are sitting on the dining room table.

I left a note for him on the table, asking him to take out the trash. He did exactly as asked, of course, taking out the trash, but leaving the lid off the trash can and no replacement liners in the cans. When I get home, the cat is adorably sitting on the trash can lid staring at me as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

He is not doing it to be mean or insensitive, but he is just so absent minded. It's an adorably aggravating trait he possesses and every incident forces me to wonder, yet again, how the man survived living by himself without his nagging loving wife. Who remembered to buy the toilet paper and make sure there was soap in the dispenser in both the kitchen AND the bathroom? Who did the checklist before he left the house?

It gets worse with each passing week, it seems. He has taken on the label of absent minded professor several decades before most professors seem to be okay with the label.

It doesn't matter, though. He is my love, my life, and I will accept this quirk of his as I accept all others. With amusement, laughter, and a great deal of tolerance for backtracking.

45 x 365 #242

242/365 - AB

There was something so sophisticated and mysterious about you that I'd wish to be you. I don't know who or where you are now, but there's still something appealing about this dream of you as perfect. I don't think I'll every try to find you.

The Hunger Games

I know I promised you a review of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. You're on the edge of your seat, just waiting for the final word from NGS on this book, I just know it.

First of all, it's a young adult book. So if you're looking for serious literature, this isn't it. While Bestest Friend and I find that there's nothing wrong with folks in their 30s reading novels written with a targeted audience of fifteen year old children in mind, some people apparently think there is something wrong with it. Those people are weird.

Warning: Some plot spoilers appear here.

Anyway, this book is set in a futuristic time in which North America has been divided into 13 districts. The government keeps tight reins on the food distribution in this world and every year two chosen adolescents from each district, one male and one female, are sent to participate in the Hunger Games. These twenty-four "lucky" individuals are set loose in an arena with a bunch of different landscapes and the one who is left standing at the end, alive, is the winner. The winner gets food for the rest of their life.

And that's the best part of the book. The setting and the plot rule the day. It's an interesting idea and the description of the world kept me riveted, constantly asking more questions. How does the class system work? How are the peacekeepers chosen? How do the different districts allocate food? What happens to orphans in this world? Can people work themselves up from a lower class to a higher class? (And always, in the back of my head, how did the world get like this? Was there a war? A famine? An awesome military coup?)

The characters are definitely not the best part of the book. Maybe it's because the main character that we follow is an adolescent girl who acts like an adolescent girl, but I really can't stand her and I am not sympathetic towards her at all. At one point, I was actually thinking, well, if they kill her off in this scene, can we follow this other character who is much more intriguing? Sadly, that didn't happen and I was left with yet another intriguing aspect of the book with no follow through.

Also, my least favorite book in the Harry Potter series is Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Harry is such a freaking jerk in that book. I know Rowling was just representing the adolescent angst of a 15/16 year old boy, but really? No. I started to hate Harry a little in that book and I'm surprised he even had friends left after all his bullshit. So maybe I just don't like tortured adolescents, even if they have something to be tortured about.

The book was okay, but I really felt good about walking away from it frequently. I could have finished it in a matter of a couple of hours, but instead it took me the better part of a week (oh, man, she's still alive - how about we kill her and follow Rue?). There's a sequel and I'm pretty sure the boy ordered it from the library and I'm pretty sure I'll read it, mostly because I want to know the answers to some of the above questions, but I'm glad we ordered it from the library and didn't buy it. It's not worth the space on my bookshelf.

Up next: Stiff by Mary Roach. Why did I never know about this hilarious book before now?

35 x 364 #241

241/365 - ST

When people picture an awkward math geek, they are picturing you. Sincere, sweet, but the awkwardness of every interaction is almost as painful as a wasp sting. Your brain holds great knowledge, but no one will ever know how much because you just can't communicate.

45 x 365 #240

240/365 - AC

Quite by accident, we ended up working two of the same jobs. I watched you get fired from one job for being disorganized and then fired from another for the same reason. You never learned your lesson and each time I was sad for you.

45 x 365 #239

239/365 - NN

You signed up for the Army as soon as you turned eighteen. You called all your family members when you thought you were going to die over there and told them you loved them. You didn't die; the Earth is a better place for you being here.

More Baby Pictures

I imagine everyone is anxious to see more pictures of babies? Oh, you're not? Well, then click "read" and move on. Cuz this post is baby pictures.

I have an action sequence of the twins and this is the culminating shot. Baby K (on the right) is gearing up to punch her big brother Baby O (on the left) in the face. He just looks at her because even though he is a monstrous one pound more than her, she is definitely the one in charge in their relationship.


Here is a gratuitous shot of Baby A. Soon he's going to be Toddler A, but he can't yet walk, so he's a baby. He's drooly and smiley and is ready to attack the camera in this shot.


Peek-a-boo! Baby L (weird name) is getting some love from his great-grandma. And that burp cloth? Aunt NGS gave it to his mama. She loves those burp cloths, so I win bonus awesome aunt prizes.


Oh, you can't get enough of an 11-week old baby with a full head of hair. Here he is again, chillin' like a villain on the floor.

Wothcher!

45 x 365 #238

238/365 - DW

Your locker was right next to mine. You always asked me how my weekend was and I reciprocated, but you never really answered. Years later I saw you again. I asked how you were doing and you were still evasive and I was left unsatisfied.

The Lovely Bones

My Bestest Friend recently wrote about some of her favorite books. I have to say, I don't always agree with Bestest Friend about books. She lists The Catcher in the Rye as one of her favorite books and I have to say that Holden Caulfield is one of the most unsympathetic main characters ever in literature (not quite as self absorbed and utterly despicable as Christopher McCandless in Into the Wild, but even J. D. Salinger knew better than to do that to his main character) and that The Catcher in the Rye really sealed the "why do all books taught in high schools have male main characters? I hate American literature" thing I went through in high school.

ANYWAY. Bestest Friend put The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold on the list. And I read it solely based on her recommendation. It was gut wrenching and difficult and a couple of times I had to put the book down and just walk away. Not because the book was bad, but because it was so touching. Then I read this:

She liked to imagine that when she passed the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was. Except when she was at work, no one knew where she was at any time of the day and no one waited for her. It was an immaculate anonymity.

These three sentences describe the first two and a half years of my grad school life. I pretended the world cared about me, that the bus driver would worry and that the clerk at the grocery store would notice me if I went missing, but I knew better. I am an average looking woman with no distinguishing characteristics (other than my rapier wit, of course, hardly noticed while paying for my meager groceries). I simultaneously enjoyed my freedom and solitude, while worrying about the consequences of those gifts. Sebold managed to put these feelings I could scarcely express in pages after pages in my journal in a mere three sentences.

The conciseness of language and the development of characters are what I most love about this book. There's rarely an unnecessary word in the book. Each sentence is parsed down to what is important and worth saying. It's a pleasure to savor each word and know that it's there for a reason. The characters act in sometimes surprising, but always real ways. I feel for them, with them, and want better for them. The characters were often the reason I'd have to put the book down. Their behaviors, not always moral or principled, were always understandable. I'd understand, I'd hate myself for the understanding, and I'd have to walk away to get my own personal perspective.

The ineffectual ending and the not great treatment of what could be a great plot are what I like least. But definitely the good of this book outweigh the bad. This one is staying on my bookshelf for good.

Up next will be another recommendation from my Bestest Friend's list, a young adult fiction novel called The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Unbeknownst to me, a coworker of BB's recommended the book to BB and he ordered it from the library. I'm almost finished with it and a short post about it will be forthcoming. Maybe. If I can motivate myself to do so.

45 x 365 #237

237/365 - JF

You knew, as did I, every word to American Pie. I only know that because we fought over the mic at karaoke. You didn't like me and I didn't like you, but I bet if we'd given each other a chance, we'd have been friends.

45 x 365 #236

236/365 - EO

Tiny, so tiny. Black down winter coat to your ankles, shivering, shivering. Jokes about things that aren't funny (but a knit cap with a beta sewn into it? priceless!), jokes about things we didn't want to be funny (that professor is doing what?! with her?!).

45 x 365 #235

235/365 - DF

Ivy League education. A sense of entitlement coupled with a sense of humor that is endearing. The time your car broke down and you had to ride the bus home with her, fuming all the while, is one of my favorite grad school memories ever.

45 x 365 #234

234/365 - CS

You are a nurse who doesn't like to "see people get sick" (a quote I laughed at perhaps more than I should have). A woman deeply committed to her religion except for the part about only having monogamous heterosexual relationships. I really can't stand you.

45 x 365 #233

233/365 - KP

You are the only one I've ever met who excitedly admitted he was from Montana. You're also the only one I've ever met who got his doctorate and maintained the exact same crappy standard of living as he had when he went to college there.

Words of Wisdom

Student 1: What's a platitude?

Student 2: (sounding incredibly confident) A platypus with attitude.

45 x 365 #232

232/365 - KG

Living beyond your means, pressuring your husband beyond all he can do. You set impossibly high standards for others and are consistently disappointed when they fail you repeatedly. Having even a short conversation with you is like dodging a minefield of blame and unfounded responsibility.

45 x 365 #231

231/365 - MP

It seems like you are going to get angry, yell at him, tell him he embarrasses you, but each time I think he's pushed you too far, you just laugh. Dizzy, flighty, unable to hold a job more than six months, but you love him.

Snapshots

The couple across the street are flirting, flinging a banana back and forth at one another. They walk so that they are always touching - shoulders, hands, hips. After a minute of the banana game, they stop and embrace. The guy, a foot taller than her, is standing on the curb as she stands on the street. She looks so tiny, the extra inches from the curb exacerbating that image. The hug lasts a long time, they separate, hands touching as long as possible. Then he gets into his little blue Honda and she gets into her white Chevy and they drive off in separate directions.

*********************************
The courtroom is packed. Our wet jackets and umbrellas lay on the ground, our heads damp, our thoughts on the scene in front of us.

The defendant is crying, sobbing, reaching through the Plexiglass for her daughter. The public defender is trying to get her to calm down, the prosecutor is clicking away on the computer, and the judge is looking down, reading his file. I am watching this lady cry. I am watching the girl in the gallery compulsively open and close her fist as her mom reaches for her. I am watching the guy with his arm slung around the girl, looking bored, his eyes half closed. I never really understood the description "heavy lidded" until I looked at him. Suddenly my brain sees Bellatrix Lestrange in an entirely different light.

I am conflicted. These two both look pained, but this defendant? She is accused of dealing drugs to children. I feel a pressure on my chest. I can't breathe. I am glad I am not the judge. I begin to start visualization techniques in my head: here's what Bellatrix looks like, here's what Lupin looks like, here's what Sirius looks like in dog form. Damn it, why am I thinking about Harry Potter? Lives are changing. Why am I so self-absorbed? The weight settles again. I have to breathe out of my mouth.

The judge makes his ruling. The woman sobs as she is led back into the jail. The girl sobs as she exits the room. I pretend I haven't been staring at the heavy lidded boy as he shuffles his way out of the courtroom. The weight on my chest grows heavier.

**********************************
He is four and a half months old. He should only be one and a half months old and we're supposed to remember that. His eye exams are normal. He is off oxygen. He is over ten pounds now and his face is so chubby my heart can hardly stand it.

We all worry. We worry about those brain bleeds early on his life. We worry about those blood transfusions. We worry about the early doses of morphine. We worry because those cheeks are chubby, yes, but his eyes? Are his eyes focusing? Are they supposed to? Is he reacting to us the way he should? He's fucking cute - everyone at the church stops and stares at him and his twin sister - but still there's something, isn't there? Something not quite right? Is it just that he's slower in developing? Is it that we're paranoid? We're looking for something, so we're going to see it? He's only supposed to be a month and a half old. We're supposed to remember that.

We don't say anything to his parents. I just grab him and treat him like I'd treat any other baby, which is to say carefully and gingerly and cheek eating and belly rubbing. I look at my husband, he looks at me, and we shrug. There's nothing any of us can do and only time will tell.

He's only supposed to be a month and a half old. We're supposed to remember that.
*******************************

45 x 365 #230

230/365 - MK

Long rides on that yellow bus spent elbow to elbow sharing headphones, you introducing me to Ozzy and me introducing you to Ricky Nelson. Bumpy roads, broken heaters in the winter, overheating engines in the spring, nothing mattered when we were together. Until everything mattered.

45 x 365 #229

229/365 - CM

A beautiful body housing a not so beautiful soul. Totally and completely incompetent at your (easy?) job. A certain disregard for social conventions that makes you seem cruel and your email seem spiteful. I despise you more with each fake smile you send my way.

45 x 365 #228

228/365 - LW

A horrible illness has taken over your body, but I try not to think of the damage that has been done. Your eyes are still as brilliant as ever, shining that bright green, lighting up your face as a reminder of your kindness and caring.

45 x 365 #227

227/365 - DW

I thought of you as a regular, harmless guy until you broke her heart and your family, thoughtlessly throwing away your life like it never mattered. In my mind, you're still a regular guy, but I hate to think that's what regular guys are like.

Making My Heart Melt

The chores have cut down gendered lines. He feeds her, waters her. I clean her poop, clean her vomit, and vacuum everything. Their love, it is boundless. Her disdain for me? Clear everytime she ignores my lap to go straight to his.

She hates the sound of the vacuum and runs into the office when I switch it on. I smile when I hear the ringing of the bell on her collar pause for just the briefest second and then the sound starts again, a quick jingle jingle. I hear the click of the keyboard hesitate as he says, "hey there, Dae." She has jumped on his lap and I can see it, although I am in the other room, as he pets her with his long fingers. "I know, I know, you don't like the loud vacuum cleaner." It is their little game. She acts frightened, he comforts her.

They will sit like that, long after the vacuum has been put into the closet, long after I have moved on to reading the new Sarah Dessen novel, long after her displeasure at That Sound has ebbed. She thinks he is bored, looking at that glowing box, not know that when she is sitting on his lap, he is writing his future. He is writing for our future. He is writing and writing some more.

They are one, cat and human. He types over her head as she purrs, content to be on a warm body. Every once in a while, she will meow up at him and he will distractedly pet her head or murmur an inconsequential, meaningless comfort word to her. Eventually I will start making dinner, another chore in a day filled with this pleasurable routine, and he will call out to ask if I need help.

No, no I don't need help. You stay there and hold the cat.

45 x 365 #226

226/365 - MW

It's hard being objective about someone you've known since his birth. You've grown up into a brute of a man, a man with no ambition, a man content to live a drifter's life. I wish I could go back and help that little boy more.

45 x 365 #225

225/365 - AS

I see you vividly in my mind, long lost friendship not forgotten, but I recently saw your profile picture on Facebook and I couldn't figure out which of the two faces shown was yours. My reality is distorted and I'm somewhat discomfited by this fact.