Not Top Chef

So, Thisbe loves food. And Thisbe is fascinated by the process of converting raw materials (i.e. flour and shredded cheese and bacon) into something delicious (i.e. Bacon Monkey Bread). But Thisbe does not particularly enjoy cooking. In fact, Thisbe rarely cooks, on the grounds that her creative home-making skill is knitting, and cooking generally cannot be done from the couch.

Thus, it is a puzzle that Thisbe is COMPLETELY OBSESSED with cooking tools. Every freaking time the William Sonoma catalog arrives, Thisbe wants the egg coddlers. Perhaps our eggs are sad and lonely, as they are without the coddling that all good eggs should have. Is it guilt? Is it some sort of latent Betty Crocker gene? It makes no sense.

Recently this phenomenon has leaked into the Cuisinart line, because they have been advertising a standing mixer which appears to be magical. It makes ice cream! It makes pasta! It grinds meat! It composes sonnets! (OK, I'm not sure about the last one, but it is still magical). And it comes in an array of attractive colors.

Thisbe keeps having grandiose fantasies of purchasing the mixer, and then dancing around the kitchen, ala Donna Reed, whipping up delicious meals for PBB & the wee kraken, and greeting PBB upon his arrival home with a gourmet dinner.

The key is: THIS IS COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC. Thisbe (while fully capable) has no interest in actually cooking the meal. So unless the mixer is actually magical, and will cook the dinner itself, it would just be a giant waste of money.

Fortunately, the cost of the mixer is bordering on prohibitive, so Thisbe has not yet caved, but late at night she can hear the siren song......[quiet tiny voice] "Thiiiiiiiissssssbbbeeeee......you could make your own iiiiiiiiccccceeee creeeeeeammmmmm" Shut UP mixer.

Today's Project: Mystery Baby Project #1 (hereinafter MBP #1).

Today's life observation: Drool is cute only if you are a wee kraken. Or a puppy.


Nothing and Everything

This week has actually been kind of crazy, but not a lot actually happened.


1) I have been given an opportunity to join a community orchestra that will be going to Italy in July. While this sounds fantastic, I cannot leave the kraken, (or PBB, although, he can actually take care of himself, as opposed to the kraken) and frankly her cello skills are not yet at the level necessary to play in the orchestra too. So, if I went, I'd have to take her with me. And I'd need PBB or some other adult to accompany us so that the kraken wouldn't crawl/walk away during a concert. Dilemma.

2) I went to the gym 3 times! That is an increase of 300% over my gym efforts for the last year. No, really.

3) The wee kraken learned how to clap, which is hilarious and adorable, and makes me want to go and wake her up to see her do it.

Today's Project: Mystery Baby Project #1 -- cool, but interminable.

Today's Life Observation: (Taken from a flip chart leaning against the wall in our rehearsal space) Charlotte + Wilbur = Friends. I could not say it better myself.



So. I am in love with Jack Bauer (after of course, PBB, and the wee kraken, and then also, Brad Pitt). (Sorry Kiefer, I am not in any way trying to freak you out, but that Jack! He's fantastic!).

I have been watching the new episodes of 24 when I get back from rehearsal, and I have to say, the theme of this season appears to be ANGRY VIOLENT Jack, as opposed to last season, which was EVERYONE WHO KNOWS JACK DIES.

This does not make me love Jack any less, because now, he is even more of a bad boy (Note: so what's the deal with his family? You have to have a pretty dysfunctional family if Jack Bauer is the "black sheep"), however, coming off of the tragedies of last season (EDGAR! NOOOOOOOO!), but based on Jack's current behavior (running around and almost indiscriminately beating/biting/killing various people) I find myself unwilling to get attached to any new characters. And I am even more attached to the old ones. (Milo! Where have you been?).

I am also somewhat worried about Jack's mental state. I think he is even worse off than the season when he was addicted to heroin.

And to the writers of 24, if you are, by some chance, reading this: leave Chloe alone. PLEASE.

Today's Project: Mystery Baby Project #1 (this one will take a long time, but it will be worth it).

Today's Life Observation: Broccoli smothered in cheese & butter is unfortunately, not healthy. Really.


Things That Suck

1) Mean Moms
2) Mean ladies at the grocery store.
3) People who say they will call back, but do not.
4) People who say they will call, but do not.
5) People who call you only when they need something.
6) People who know you need help, but don't bother to call.
7) Post-pregnancy weight.
8) Not being able to sleep.

Today's Project: Mystery Baby Project #1

Today's Life Observation: Nobody's on Nobody's side.


Coda Mama

This morning we went to a Mom's Club Event. I kind of hate going to these events. I am completely intimidated by all the other Moms. I feel like a mom imposter. Like I am some sort of 16 year old babysitter who stole someone's kid and is masquerading as an actual Mom.

Not to mention, that I generally do not get along well with other women. This is not to say that I don't like other women, or have female friends or anything, but for some reason, I do not get the whole female relationship dynamic (despite having researched this issue, taken classes on it, and actually conducted sessions with teenagers on relational aggression), and I end up saying or doing something stupid.

And then the other women/girls mock me and torment me endlessly. And not in a gentle, fun, kind of way. In the kind of way that makes a 16 year old girl go home after school and cry in her room.

For example, today one of the other Moms asked me if the wee kraken was sleeping through the night, and I, stupid moron that I am, answered "Yes, she has been sleeping through the night since she was 2 months old" (which is true). I then spent the next 10 minutes backpedaling and talking about all the other things she does that are not good, because that Mom was clearly about to disembowel me with a butter knife.

I keep going to these events because I really feel like I need to meet other Moms, but I just have NOTHING to talk about with them. I feel like a giant tool. Argh.

Today's Project: Mystery Baby Project #1 continues.

Today's Life Observation: Mean Girls just grow up into Mean Moms.


La la la.

So, for those of you who know Thisbe (and read previous posts), you know that I enjoy singing, and I am not actually too bad at it. If I may toot my own horn for a moment here, I have even held principal roles in several musical productions. As such, I decided that I would like to participate in a local Gilbert & Sullivan group that is putting on a show later this year. So now, every Monday and Wednesday, I drive 35 minutes to rehearsal and have a little kraken-free grown-up time.

I am enjoying the rehearsals, but as it turns out, I am the only one in the group who has actually performed this particular show (a more obscure G & S production), and so I often find my mind wandering. I stare at the wooden ceiling of the church where we rehearse, and I wonder how old it is, how many slats it has, and whether the church founders would freak out if they knew people of many non-Christian faiths were hanging out there and singing immoral songs (or at least, songs that would have been immoral at the time). I am also fascinated by the signs that are sort of lying around the rehearsal space (e.g. Spaghetti Dinner! Tonight!), and wonder how long they have been there. They move around, and change, but yet, I have seen no signs of any Spaghetti Dinner.

And perhaps as a result of all of these random musings I also find that I am regressing to the slightly obnoxious soprano that I was in college. Specifically, I am all fidgety and whispering to my neighbor, and I can't quite figure it out. I am no longer fearful of these people (or at least, I am less fearful than when I auditioned) Why am I suddenly becoming 18 again? [Or at least, why can't I just get back my 18 year old body?] It is fortunate that the music director seems as immature as I am, (or finds my fidgety weirdness endearing), because I think otherwise I would be sitting in a corner with a dunce cap.

Sooooooo, shout out to the G & S group! Way to give me an adult activity complete with real conversations!

Today's Project: Still Mystery Baby Project #1!

Today's Life Observation: Low-fat things are also low in taste.


Slacker poster.

Yes. Yes. I know. I haven't posted in well over two weeks. I don't have much of a good excuse except for general holiday malaise. That and the fact that I really didn't have much to report, and I did not think it would be interesting for people to read "Hey, nothing happened today! It was RIVETING".

This past weekend PBB & I dressed up like real adults and went out for a proper grown-up dinner, replete with alcohol and food that was prepared in more than 5 minutes without a microwave. Accompanying us for this outing were Mr. & Mrs. Weef, who are expecting a small (and we found out today) little girl (congratulations!) kraken of their very own.

So, while we went out with the best of intentions, I could not stop PBB from waxing eloquent on the colors of poo, and I went right along with it. And I must say, I am full of shame, because that is not normal adult conversation, and a shout-out apology must go to the Weefs, for subjecting them to what amounted to an all-night diatribe on being new parents. I will be very impressed if they did not have to go home and lie down for the rest of the year from fear and shock. I have promised Mrs. Weef that we will go out for another grown-up dinner and will not have lame baby conversations, although she did not seem that upset (but then, she is very polite and well-mannered, so she may be trying to spare my feelings, or perhaps, fend off another spate of parenting drivel).

We also went to see A Chorus Line, which was very good, with two notable exceptions/problems:

1) The seats in the Schoenfeld theater were apparently designed for gnomes, and therefore, no average sized adult (or even small adult) can sit comfortably in them, which really detracts from one's enjoyment of the show.

2) Seated directly behind us were a group of women that if I were to use dramatic UNDERstatement I would describe as quiet, subtle, and slightly tipsy. The seats did not seem to bother them (to be fair, in their state(s), I think that if the theater exploded it would not have bothered them), and they expressed their *deep* love of the show by punctuating EVERY SINGLE SONG with their own approbation/observations. "I JUST *LOVE* HER! I DO! I LOVE HER!!!!" "SHE'S GREAT!" "YES! SHE IS GREAT! I LOVE HER". I am still not sure if it was funny or just plain annoying.

Today's Project: Continued work on Mystery Baby Project #1. So fun!

Today's Life Observation: Cats really do like balls of string.