my drink offends me

i'm in jamba juice the other day and they've changed the menu layout, so i can't find "my drink". i ask, "what's the one that used to be called strawberry tsunami?" she looks puzzled, has to find a manager and he tells me. i ask, "why'd you change the name?"

he says, "it was when the tsunami hit in indonesia that they changed the name to strawberry surfrider. i guess to be more politically correct or something."

this puzzles me. it seems overly sensitive. am i right? are tsunami victims really sensitive about tsunamis? can you be really sensitive about natural disasters? i'm just having a hard time imagining that someone from the tsunami disaster would show up at a jamba juice and declare, "i was in a tsunami and the fact that you have a drink called strawberry tsunami is very, very offensive."

so, am i right? is this taking political correctness to a whole new level?

weekly mouse

opium kitty

my first mistake: giving ava the "chore" of feeding the cat. this means she fetches the food bowl, i fill it and she walks it back to the bathroom where she watches madeline inhale the top half. madeline inhales the first half because i always leave her bowl empty for a couple days. this way madeline has to beg me for food and i feel loved. i usually don't watch madeline inhale because i have to follow ava's inevitable path of spilled kitty food and clean it up. i think ava now feels a right to madeline's food bowl. as in, she can put whatever she wants in there.

my second mistake: ignoring her while she played with the spices that are on a shelf in the pantry that she can reach (in my defense, i was making dinner and ryan had a late meeting).

the result?

poppyseeds and kibble for madeline.

how ava spent her weekend

the weather was pathetic, so we stayed inside nearly the entire time (i granite shopped on saturday and ryan tennis-ed on monday). it was a perfect weekend. this morning i was sad as i watched ryan put on his shirt and tie. how can we make it a 4-day weekend?

tell me about your memorial day.

36

will you accept this rose?

i just watched the beginning portion of the bachelorette (oh don't give me those looks! i had a weak moment) and had some thoughts:

number one: isn't this just an outrageous way to get revenge on your ex-boyfriend who you're still smarting from? they kept saying things over and over, "you'll meet 25 of the best single men in america to help you forget brad" (to which she smartly replied, "who?" and we all shared a good laugh) or "brad is going to really see what he's missing" or "the day brad turned you away will be the day he regrets for the REST OF HIS LIFE". isn't this just a little pathetic? and this brad guy, does he really feel that bad about it? are we sure she's not just coming off as desperate?

number two: deAnna's dress could quite possibly be the ugliest dress EVER. and i think it was too big.

number three: who are these people? and why is she inviting them on a date instead of saying, "i'm getting a restraining order." there are guys walking around without their shirts on saying things like, "deanna's everything i want in a woman: she's hot." or holding their dog (who is ugly) and telling the dog, "can you wish me luck? can you wish me luck to go win the heart of the girl i love?" (i'm sorry, love? isn't that a strong word? i mean, you know, since you haven't met her and everything??)

number four: is this show real? can it be real? i mean, what could they possibly have to gain from flaunting all of their sad lonely lives all over national television to win the heart of a girl they DON'T EVEN KNOW???

and finally, number five: is anyone watching this show (or are you not really into admitting it now that i've wiped the floor with your favorite past time)? and what do you think?

weekly mouse

this is "the face". perhaps i've taken too many pictures, or perhaps this yet another way to exert her little would-be 2-year-old independence, but when i call her name with a camera lens in front of my face, i usually get this. i can't say that it's my favorite.

also, that is my mother. she thinks ava's hilarious. i think ava has caught on and has grown addicted to making her grandmother laugh because she tends to get a little more adorable when grandma's around. not fair.

a year

friends, neighbors, relatives and strangers: this is my one-year blogging anniversary. hooray for me, for sticking with it for a year! and hooray to all of you who actually continue to read it.

thanks. it's been a great year.

review website

review website

this is just a taste. the online version is a completely different publication than the hard copy. i worked solely on the hard copy, so none of that stuff is mine. but i thought you might enjoy seeing what we did this year and what we've done in the past.

review review

the review reception was lovely. fabulous. very nerve-wracking. i didn't know that this was the way it would be, but i led the thing (around. by the nose). hart got up and spoke a little, tracy got up and spoke a little and then i got up and spoke (i have no idea how long, i think i slipped in to a coma where my body still stands and speaks) and then conducted and closed.

this has been such a journey for me. and the funny thing is, i've only talked about it to a couple people because it's been so difficult to stick words to. i think 'i've learned so much' but just what it is that i've learned, i'm not a hundred percent sure of.

this i know:
i can do this. i can talk about fiction and poetry and edit it all and i can do it all very well. i forgot that i had this talent and that it was also a passion of mine. i forgot that a good poem could make me feel the world well up in my chest and come out through tears in my eyes. that there are FEELINGS and THOUGHTS evoked by a art. i love art, i just remembered.

i love people with opinions. even if they don't match mine. even if i hate them. i love that people think things through in their own way and then express it.

i am ava's mother and that is my most consuming "position" right now. i'm also ryan's wife. and the house cleaner, grocery-buyer, cook, etc. but i am also just me, the simple quiet kind of me that can write and do it well and sing and read and understand the things that i am doing. i've known this all along, but i guess i didn't realize how much of that part of me there actually was. it's there, a lot of it.

you know, that's only the top layer. there's more: one part a spiritual part, not just a self part. there is something so deeply spiritual when it comes to books and poems. it's not just a past time, it's not just something nice to look at or think of. i don't fully understand that part yet (perhaps i never will).

and all in all, i'm grateful. i'm grateful to my mother-in-law for watching ava while i went off every tuesday afternoon to do this, i'm grateful to my mom and dad for seeing more than just a bookworm and helping me get an early start on good literature and writing techniques (for a starter). i'm grateful that i married a man who, in the beginning, wanted this for me more than i did. he just knew how good it would be, i think. and of course, hart and tracy for giving me the responsibility.

the best husband in the world

ryan left for work without taking the trash out. he remembered, hurried home and ran in, taking the trash out and then running off again for work.

what a man.

35

why i am going to keep her forever

take two and call me in the morning

i went to the doctor today. i took ava and told her, "we're going to the doctor and she's not going to hurt me." after this ava excitedly chattered about the doctor and pointed to everything in her office and called it the doctor. and then, she'd stand and walk towards the door as if to say, "well, we've seen the doctor. let's go now!" then the real doctor came in and ava's eyes got really large and she said, "got to go! got to go!" sadly, this didn't work. however, my doctor is a genius and was carrying a package of sweet-tarts in her coat pocket. ava was happy after that. i think i could have had brain surgery and ava would have been totally fine as long as her little package of sweet-tarts was lasting.

i asked my doctor about my labor, which is my biggest fear (this month) concerning my pregnancy (i have other fears in other categories). everyone keeps telling me how the second labor is so much easier and it's so much faster. this is what terrifies me. i was in labor with ava for four hours and pushed for 20 minutes. the way i'm envisioning things this time is more like this: a cramp and then a baby and me struggling to keep it from hurting itself on the target floor. seriously though, what if i do end up having my baby in the backseat of my car? first of all, gross (we'd definitely sell the car if that happened). secondly, what if i'm all alone and having the baby? the only plan i have to make up for that one is this: i'm not going to the hospital by myself. if ryan can't come with me (work), then my mom will. there's no way i'm going to be huffing and puffing my way through baby labor and have some stern highway patrolman stick his head in my car and ask me what i'm doing, parked on the side of the freeway like that by myself. i want my mom to be holding my hand and wondering what the heck she should do right next to me so she can tell the policeman what's wrong.

my doctor said that near the end they'll just check me weekly and if i'm starting to efface or dilate or show any other signs of labor, they'll just take me to the hospital and induce me. "you'll have that baby in an hour." she told me. sounds good except i don't want to be induced. i've heard it's very painful (from many a reliable source).

ease my fears, readers of mine who have had more than one child: what was your second, third, etc. labor and delivery like?

a letter to a friend

dear sarah,

you THROW the clay on the wheel? and it just sticks? what happens if you don't throw hard enough or you have bad aim or you don't center it?

please tell me more about parkour.

the magazine is good. it's finished! i have a copy. you don't have to have a copy, but if you would like one, i'll grab one for you. i think they're fifteen dollars. you're such a supportive friend.

i've never read les mis, although i've started it a bajillion times. it's long. very long. and there are a lot of people involved. and their stores are told in full. and their stories are long. very long.

it's too bad you just discovered those bad-hair hippies. think of the time you'd save! and the money people would hand you in the street because you looked homeless.

ava and i went to the janss marketplace to splash in the fountain today. she didn't like the unpredictable water. so mostly we just watched. unfortunately, we chose a seat next to the speakers and now i may be slightly deaf in my right ear. this is a pity because i've always thought it to be my prettier ear (just kidding).

i have tomatoes growing!!! they are there, even if they're still small and very green. i have grown the beginnings of a tomato! i feel very proud of my tomato. i feel it may compensate for every other plant i have killed in my past. i keep meaning to go to osh and find some flowers or strawberries or some other plant because i have this large, flat-ish storage bin and lots of extra soil and room on my patio.

tell me more about one world. they sound wonderful. you're right: right up my ally. too bad they're in salt lake.

love you, too,
miriam

it's here!

i'm holding in my little hands the fruit of my labors (other labors, not ava). since january, as most of you know, i've been sitting down with a bunch of cocky college students and arguing about fiction and poetry (i've won nearly every argument i've cared to win, by the way. ryan is very impressed with me). and, as of yester-evening, i have my very own copy of the moorpark review. and it is bee-yoo-tee-full. and i'm in it.

i'm proud of my work. i love my little magazine.

the printer!

everyday conversation

me, upon seeing my beautiful little daughter, felt a surge of love that must be expressed. i say, "ava, i love you more than-"
ava holds up her hand, turns on her little heel and begins to storm across the room so she can be as far away from me as possible. "no," she says, "don't."

34

happy mother's day

ignoring my options

as the primaries start wrapping up and as we start to really get a feel for who we'll be voting for in november, i'm feeling torn. because i hate every single candidate. i think i won't vote, but i feel awful about shirking such an important responsibility due to a sour taste in my mouth. so i want to hear about your plans and opinions. should not voting even be an option?

weekly mouse

this weekly mouse is last year's mouse when she was a baby and just barely crawling. i miss that mouse. she sort of stayed where i put her and played with whatever she found on the floor nearby. now she's running wildly through the house naked with all of the pens she could muster waving in the air.

ponder it and laugh

"I once complained to my father that I didn't seem to be able to do things the same way other people did. Dad's advice? 'Margo, don't be a sheep. People hate sheep. They eat sheep.'"

-Margo Kaufman

growing

my stomach is large now. when i open the refrigerator door, it bumps into my bump. it takes me a moment, but then i remember that i'm expanding rapidly and must take a step back. ava is also having a hard time fitting in to my lap. she is dealing with this problem with her best denial yet. she just figures she should lean back harder, sometimes bracing her feet on the floor and pushing to make more room. seth pushes back and i say to ryan, "look, they're fighting already. isn't that cute?"
ava, too, is growing. she's stringing words together to create miniature sentences that are just as good as those miniature cadbury easter eggs. she's saying "yes" which, i have to say, i wasn't quite sure she was capable of saying. for awhile i thought she might have some sort of rare speech impediment that kept her from answering in the affirmative. if the answer was an obvious yes (for example, "would you like a pony?") instead of saying no, she merely screamed, "DON'T!" as if being held against her will against the pony's backside. such strong vocal chords in that little girl. how sweet.
and of course, my favorite: she says thank you. she's actually very dedicated to this little phrase, it is absolutely said every time she is handed something. and you must say "you're welcome" afterwards. YOU MUST. otherwise she'll just repeat the thank you. over and over and over again. and sometimes she'll throw a MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY in front so you know to pay attention. that one makes my hair stand on end.
yesterday, while witnessing me on the toilet and sticking around in case i started singing (why else would she demand to be present every time i use the ladies room?), she handed me my toilet paper. i said, "thank you." to which she smiled sweetly and said, "welcome." then i died. right there on the toilet. that was the moment that made up for every bit of labor i experienced. she has returned the favor. and i am more in love with her than ever.

33

the best ever

sitting there in quiet, feeling comfortable and feeling that new little life wiggle about. it is just so . . .lovely.

let's hear your best ever.

miss madeline

i don't write much about the little cat that lives in my apartment, but i sure do think about her a lot. she's the perfect cat in almost every way. she's sweet, she's silent, she's friendly in a want-to-be-in-the-room-but-not-on-you sort of way, she eats properly and poops properly. . .my small problem with madeline the french kitten? she's rather unaffecionate. this is rather sad because i like to have animals around for the snuggling factor. not the starved-for-attention kind of snuggling factor (that leads to guilt and then, later, to resentment), but the while-you-watch-tv-would-you-mind-rubbing-my-head snuggling factor. if i'm lucky, madeline might deign to sit so close to my feet the edge of her might brush me. however, if i even twitch the smallest muscle in my right ear, she'll immediately glare, get up and sit rather hotly elsewhere, obviously disgusted with how inconsiderate i am.

as time has moved on, we've all kind of grown accustomed to the no-touching madeline rule (ryan loves it) so you'd have to imagine my surprise when, in the middle of the night last night, madeline came and sat right next to me and slept there. and by right next to me, i mean that a great deal of her body was touching mine. unfortunately, she was purring, so while i was soaking in all of this cat affection, ryan grumbled something, scooped her up and tossed her on the floor.

my cat may never touch me again.

weekly mouse

looking up and seeing this smile nearly broke my heart today. i saw only little girl and no baby.