is there anything more tiring than kids?
is there anything more exciting than outside?
is there anything greater than friends who have their shit together?
is there anything greater than friends?
is there anything more metaphorical than a mountain?
**
L and I had an amazing weekend in the mountains, with friends. Not new friends, but getting-to-know-better friends, and it was spectacular fun. This is going to be a fun summer.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
older and wiser
I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday. Someone said to me, "You won't be wise anymore," to which I replied, "I was never, ever in danger of being considered wise. Wisdom teeth or otherwise."
So this happened--I decided not to do IV sedation because "going under" freaks me out more than intense pain. I guess I just like knowing what's going on. And maybe I'm afraid that when I'm out I'll pee in my pants or say something really embarrassing. A girl's got secrets, you know. So I decided to just do laughing gas and local anesthesia, also for the really embarrassing reason that IV sedation is like, a thousand bucks! I chose a really bad time to quit my sort-of-ok paying job to go to grad school, and move out and start paying rent. I'm full of really awesome ideas. (Reason #300 why I am not wise.)
As it turns out, I am one of those people that has a really bad reaction to laughing gas! Who knew! So I ended up getting all four wisdom teeth extracted, two that were impacted, while I was completely lucid.
It was actually a very cool experience. My mouth was completely numb, and I had all these crazy thoughts while they were extracting my teeth. One was just waiting to feel something, another was, as the oral surgeon was you know, yanking my teeth out of my mouth, thinking that I should ask him if he works out. Also that his name was Brent, which is not a very doctor-y name, and I kept having to remind myself to be calm and breathe out of my nose. I made a rockin' playlist, and it went by really fast, but I listened to a great combo of Mumford and Sons, the Black Lips, and the Devil Makes Three. And you know, I would love to take a poll on like, how much people like when their dentists talk to them while they're digging around in their mouth. I mean, every time the guy said, "sorry about that" I felt the need to be like, "oh it's fine" which a) of course it wasn't, and b) I wasn't going to be able to say that anyway.
Also I had this really funny thought while they were drilling through my teeth, with a drill, that was like, "what if I accidentally move my tongue into the drill and he cuts it off!" which is the same type of thought I have while walking down the lab bays at work. I always think, "oh my gosh, what if I accidentally kick someone's chair while they sit in it and screw up all their experiments." And I was thinking to myself, "Man, that's really enough drilling, don't you think?" as if now was a good time to practice positive thinking and self-actualization.
**
L asked me if the tooth fairy was going to come and visit, and I laughed, and said, "maybe", and then thought, "oh jeez I have to be a tooth fairy at some point, and that is something they never tell you about when you're going to be a parent the hidden costs of parenthood." Except what I was really thinking was that the tooth fairy paid for my wisdom teeth to come out, which was actually a really great deal because the anesthesiologist said almost conspiratorially, "I didn't charge you for the nitrous oxide."
**
I'd like to think I have a really high pain tolerance, but I think it's really more that I have a really-high-being-uncomfortable tolerance, which I'm trying to think of practical uses in the real world, and I can think of a couple, but none that will really get me ahead in life.
**
L thinks this is all funny, that I'm "a little sick" but without any germs. And other than intense boredom and hunger, I haven't minded the recovery at all. It's actually giving me flashbacks to after I had Lena. I just kind of hung out and watched Gilmore Girls and marveled at this...baby...that I somehow landed responsibility of. (Note bad grammar and passive voice. that is completely how I would describe having a newborn. No time for correct sentence structure, and you're really just taking shit as it's thrown at you.)
**
Anyway, summer is almost here. My job ends next week. Crazy shit has been happening, and I am just bulldozing through life, it feels like. I feel like I'm going to run some things over, and I'm definitely getting some bumps and bruises of my own on the way, but hey, apparently I have a really high tolerance for being really uncomfortable!
So this happened--I decided not to do IV sedation because "going under" freaks me out more than intense pain. I guess I just like knowing what's going on. And maybe I'm afraid that when I'm out I'll pee in my pants or say something really embarrassing. A girl's got secrets, you know. So I decided to just do laughing gas and local anesthesia, also for the really embarrassing reason that IV sedation is like, a thousand bucks! I chose a really bad time to quit my sort-of-ok paying job to go to grad school, and move out and start paying rent. I'm full of really awesome ideas. (Reason #300 why I am not wise.)
As it turns out, I am one of those people that has a really bad reaction to laughing gas! Who knew! So I ended up getting all four wisdom teeth extracted, two that were impacted, while I was completely lucid.
It was actually a very cool experience. My mouth was completely numb, and I had all these crazy thoughts while they were extracting my teeth. One was just waiting to feel something, another was, as the oral surgeon was you know, yanking my teeth out of my mouth, thinking that I should ask him if he works out. Also that his name was Brent, which is not a very doctor-y name, and I kept having to remind myself to be calm and breathe out of my nose. I made a rockin' playlist, and it went by really fast, but I listened to a great combo of Mumford and Sons, the Black Lips, and the Devil Makes Three. And you know, I would love to take a poll on like, how much people like when their dentists talk to them while they're digging around in their mouth. I mean, every time the guy said, "sorry about that" I felt the need to be like, "oh it's fine" which a) of course it wasn't, and b) I wasn't going to be able to say that anyway.
Also I had this really funny thought while they were drilling through my teeth, with a drill, that was like, "what if I accidentally move my tongue into the drill and he cuts it off!" which is the same type of thought I have while walking down the lab bays at work. I always think, "oh my gosh, what if I accidentally kick someone's chair while they sit in it and screw up all their experiments." And I was thinking to myself, "Man, that's really enough drilling, don't you think?" as if now was a good time to practice positive thinking and self-actualization.
**
L asked me if the tooth fairy was going to come and visit, and I laughed, and said, "maybe", and then thought, "oh jeez I have to be a tooth fairy at some point, and that is something they never tell you about when you're going to be a parent the hidden costs of parenthood." Except what I was really thinking was that the tooth fairy paid for my wisdom teeth to come out, which was actually a really great deal because the anesthesiologist said almost conspiratorially, "I didn't charge you for the nitrous oxide."
**
I'd like to think I have a really high pain tolerance, but I think it's really more that I have a really-high-being-uncomfortable tolerance, which I'm trying to think of practical uses in the real world, and I can think of a couple, but none that will really get me ahead in life.
**
L thinks this is all funny, that I'm "a little sick" but without any germs. And other than intense boredom and hunger, I haven't minded the recovery at all. It's actually giving me flashbacks to after I had Lena. I just kind of hung out and watched Gilmore Girls and marveled at this...baby...that I somehow landed responsibility of. (Note bad grammar and passive voice. that is completely how I would describe having a newborn. No time for correct sentence structure, and you're really just taking shit as it's thrown at you.)
**
Anyway, summer is almost here. My job ends next week. Crazy shit has been happening, and I am just bulldozing through life, it feels like. I feel like I'm going to run some things over, and I'm definitely getting some bumps and bruises of my own on the way, but hey, apparently I have a really high tolerance for being really uncomfortable!
Saturday, May 11, 2013
writing again
**
racing a train home
feeling oh so very in control with you
feeling oh so very out of control having to write about you
**
in retrospect. so easy in retrospect--if only we could live our lives backwards--maybe that's why we having books? (teachers, friends) in retrospect when i stop writing, it means i have fallen out of love (is this how you like it--i remember being so amazed) and then this is how i know i'm sunk. it's not that my heart races when i see you (it does) that my stomach drops when you're near (ugh it does) that i smell you everywhere (you smell kind of generically, so there's that too) and everything reminds me of you (it's not all that) it's that i'm writing. i'm forever needing to write about you. on the backs of envelopes. sharpie on scrap paper at work i cannot. stop. writing. and i forgot how much i love this feeling (writing, having feelings) it's who i am (can't stop won't stop) feeling something--won't call it love, can't call it love. (it's lust, if anything or just a feeling) but it's the writing i'm in love with, i'm in love with this feeling that makes me want to write. i wish i could just thank you for making me want to write.
not for all the other random shit. that's kind of whatever.
but the words. the words! how thankful i am that the words have returned!
**
.JPG)
racing a train home
feeling oh so very in control with you
feeling oh so very out of control having to write about you
**
in retrospect. so easy in retrospect--if only we could live our lives backwards--maybe that's why we having books? (teachers, friends) in retrospect when i stop writing, it means i have fallen out of love (is this how you like it--i remember being so amazed) and then this is how i know i'm sunk. it's not that my heart races when i see you (it does) that my stomach drops when you're near (ugh it does) that i smell you everywhere (you smell kind of generically, so there's that too) and everything reminds me of you (it's not all that) it's that i'm writing. i'm forever needing to write about you. on the backs of envelopes. sharpie on scrap paper at work i cannot. stop. writing. and i forgot how much i love this feeling (writing, having feelings) it's who i am (can't stop won't stop) feeling something--won't call it love, can't call it love. (it's lust, if anything or just a feeling) but it's the writing i'm in love with, i'm in love with this feeling that makes me want to write. i wish i could just thank you for making me want to write.
not for all the other random shit. that's kind of whatever.
but the words. the words! how thankful i am that the words have returned!
**
.JPG)
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
things i learned at kindergarten transition night
I attended "kindergarten transition night" tonight at L's future elementary school. It's sort of a pre-orientation thing, where they tell you what you need to start doing with your kid so they don't freak out the first day of kindergarten. (Why yes, they did ask me to write their press releases, how nice of you to ask!)
I learned many things.
Did you know that if your kid misses 10 days of kindergarten, by the 3rd grade they're an entire month behind??
There's a kid at her school named Link. (He'll be in the first grade.) Which is some kind of awesome. If I had named L Zelda, they would have been a match made in kids-who-grew-up-in-the-80s-and-90s-heaven. Also, nerds.
Did I say I learned many things? I may have exaggerated.
There was this woman who pronounced "feelings" like "fillings" and it took me a minute to figure out why once every few weeks the kindergartners got a visit from the guidance counselor to talk about their "fillings". So that occupied a few minutes of brain work for me.
And I mentioned there was a kid named Link.
This blog post degenerated really quickly. Sorry friends, it looks like someone is not handling the transition well to kindergarten.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
white lies
This morning, I'm walking around smiling to myself while L plays on my bed.
"Why are you smiling, mom?" L asks me.
"Because I am thinking about something happy," I tell her.
"What?" She asks, impertinently. (I'm just kidding, it's not really impertinent, but still like, what do you mean 'what?')
"You," I respond, still smiling.
I love that Lena totally buys this. Like, of course, if I am walking around smiling a knowing smile to myself, I must be thinking about how wonderful she is, because what else is better in the world than knowing the love of motherhood. (Except you know...you know.)
The reality was, I was thinking about this College Humor video that I had watched yesterday at work that was a movie trailer for a live action Dora the Explorer movie. And it was really freakin' funny. I was thinking about that. And smiling. That's my story at least, and I'm sticking to it.
"Why are you smiling, mom?" L asks me.
"Because I am thinking about something happy," I tell her.
"What?" She asks, impertinently. (I'm just kidding, it's not really impertinent, but still like, what do you mean 'what?')
"You," I respond, still smiling.
I love that Lena totally buys this. Like, of course, if I am walking around smiling a knowing smile to myself, I must be thinking about how wonderful she is, because what else is better in the world than knowing the love of motherhood. (Except you know...you know.)
The reality was, I was thinking about this College Humor video that I had watched yesterday at work that was a movie trailer for a live action Dora the Explorer movie. And it was really freakin' funny. I was thinking about that. And smiling. That's my story at least, and I'm sticking to it.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
found in country
I was talking to Julian about searching for things on the internet when you don't know what they're called, and sometimes the internet totally follows through. For instance, "red bugs on cement wall", which I think the urban legend is that they are chiggers but they are really harmless clover bugs! I told L this and she was like, "But why are they on walls." And...I had no answer for that. Google says they eat clover, isn't that enough??
Children dude. Keeping us curious. Also this is totally one of those moments that my dad will cite as "Rachael does not have a curious scientific mind, and Lena is way better." Because I did not ask why the clover bugs were on the cement walls in the first place. And so.
ANYWAY,
so I read this poem a million (read: at least 8) years ago. And I remembered really liking it. And about once a year, I try to find it on the internet. All I remember is that it's about Vietnam, it has the phrase "In country" (which is a really ubiquitous phrase about the Vietnam war, I have subsequently found) and I think it's by a guy named Bill. Oh and there's this crazy image of an old lady, and what I imagine to be yellow teeth.
So I google it, all variations of "In country" "bill" "poem" "vietnam" "yellow teeth", and I have never found it.
Until today. Talking about this with Julian, I google it one last time just for funsies.
and.
I find it.
This is crazy!! This is the internet!! And it's not quite how I remembered it. There are no yellow teeth, but there is an image of an old lady, and a harrowing last line.
IN COUNTRY
Fireblass blink
on Bien Hoa airstrip.
My bladder aches and I’m afraid,
but the Swedish girls says, “Stay put;
the seat belt sign is on,”
and pokes out the overhead light.
I can smell her mix
of tension and perfume,
feel the splash of woman hair
against my face
one last time.
We circle, descend, circle,
then it’s morning,
then it’s real
MP’s rout us
off the Northwest Orient
into a furnace
of burning shit and JP4.
“Run, run,” they shout,
“Run, run. You’ll miss the bus.
You’ll miss the bus to Long Bien.”
Mama-sans,
heads wrapped in old cloth,
lean against wooden posts and yawn.
One drags a broom
In front of the banner,
WELCOME TO IV CORPS,
and turns to look
but I look away.
I didn't know death
had such lively eyes.
Bill Bauer
Children dude. Keeping us curious. Also this is totally one of those moments that my dad will cite as "Rachael does not have a curious scientific mind, and Lena is way better." Because I did not ask why the clover bugs were on the cement walls in the first place. And so.
ANYWAY,
so I read this poem a million (read: at least 8) years ago. And I remembered really liking it. And about once a year, I try to find it on the internet. All I remember is that it's about Vietnam, it has the phrase "In country" (which is a really ubiquitous phrase about the Vietnam war, I have subsequently found) and I think it's by a guy named Bill. Oh and there's this crazy image of an old lady, and what I imagine to be yellow teeth.
So I google it, all variations of "In country" "bill" "poem" "vietnam" "yellow teeth", and I have never found it.
Until today. Talking about this with Julian, I google it one last time just for funsies.
and.
I find it.
This is crazy!! This is the internet!! And it's not quite how I remembered it. There are no yellow teeth, but there is an image of an old lady, and a harrowing last line.
IN COUNTRY
Fireblass blink
on Bien Hoa airstrip.
My bladder aches and I’m afraid,
but the Swedish girls says, “Stay put;
the seat belt sign is on,”
and pokes out the overhead light.
I can smell her mix
of tension and perfume,
feel the splash of woman hair
against my face
one last time.
We circle, descend, circle,
then it’s morning,
then it’s real
MP’s rout us
off the Northwest Orient
into a furnace
of burning shit and JP4.
“Run, run,” they shout,
“Run, run. You’ll miss the bus.
You’ll miss the bus to Long Bien.”
Mama-sans,
heads wrapped in old cloth,
lean against wooden posts and yawn.
One drags a broom
In front of the banner,
WELCOME TO IV CORPS,
and turns to look
but I look away.
I didn't know death
had such lively eyes.
Bill Bauer
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