Do the Yak

This exercise thing has taught me a lot of things aside from pain tolerance of various muscles I didn’t know I had. Like plumbing, for example. Both of the main weight rooms have two water fountains (one is lower for handicapped access) and a third device whose function was a total mystery to me. It looked like a small stainless-steel urinal, except there was no blue cake in it and the location was far too public. It did have a little spout on the back wall that emitted a sprinkle into the basin when you pressed it, but it was so close to the wall that you couldn’t fit even a water bottle underneath. Then last week the fog lifted, because someone has thoughtfully put a Dyno label at the top with one word: CUSPIDOR. Of course -- it’s for guys to hock a big looey into and then wash it away with the sprinkler thing. So now the only remaining question is: why the hell do guys feel the need to spit? I don’t know any women who spit except when brushing their teeth, but a lot of guys seem

Ever wondered about the name of this blog? For those who don’t know the story, it all started right after college graduation, when my friend and I, who both had straight-as-a-ruler long brown hair, decided we had to look more professional as we ventured into the working world. What we should have done is get better clothes, but instead we were possessed by Satan and we decided it was crucial that we both get perms. When I went to the hair place, I told the person I wanted a soft wave. What I got was a malodorous football helmet -- a bunch of tight curls clinging for dear life to my smelly scalp. My friend fared a little better -- she wound up with a sort of Rosanne Rosannadanna / Annie Hall look where her hair got all wiggly and stuck out from the top of her head at a 45-degree angle. Well, we eventually came to our senses (although I’m ashamed to admit I refreshed the perm a couple pf times) and let our hair grow out again without interference. In my case, the hair grew straight out o

1. More proof (in addition to this story I mentioned a while back) that nature is icky . 2. A hilarious blog I only recently discovered is Go Fug Yourself . It's slightly reminiscent of Mr. Blackwell's annual trashin' of bad fashion, but way, way better. These blog writers are gifted. Another blog that had a pretty funny post recently is Defective Yeti . This is sure to be enjoyed by anyone who's had dealings with mucus-y toddlers. 3. Best media quote of the young year (albeit a restatement of something said in 2003): "Masturbating a horseshoe crab takes a special technique, but it's worth learning... The sperm are amazing." You can find the source here , in the fifth paragraph under the subhead "A Steady Rise." Seriously. 4. I gotta go down to Target intimate apparel and get me a few pairs of these... The piece of clothing in question relates to a project called [random] search and is described as “ a subtle, reactive undergarment. It re

I know it’s probably not that interesting to anyone but her relatives, but I have to record for posterity Sarah’s first writing she did without adult help. This was on a worksheet she’d done in kindergarten around New Year’s that posed some questions about recent highlights in the students’ lives. Her favorite lunch? “bnana, graaps, apple, syreeol, wodr.” (The last two are “cereal” and “water,” by the way.) The she was asked about some memories of the past year. One thing I remember about my family: “we tak a woc thro the parc.” One thing I remember about my friends: “we plad kech the bad gei.” One thing I learned to do: “I learned hao to do the mankebrs.” One thing I read: “Mes pets.” (Translations: “We took a walk through the park, We played catch the bad guy, I learned how to do the monkey bars, Mess Pets .”) In keeping with the FCC mandate on equal time, I’ll relate a story of a few months ago from Becky’s preschool that her teacher related to me at the end of th

Our employer is sponsoring a three-month fitness program whereby employees form teams and commit to exercising a certain number of minutes a week. No doubt this has to do with the soaring cost of health insurance, but I can’t be too cynical about it because I am, after all, one of the 162,375,953 Americans who has vowed several times over the years to Get in Shape and then done little or nothing about it. This program has actually worked so far because it feels like a group effort (both team-wise and going to the gym with a friend), whereas going it alone was always intimidating and discouraging. So here we are in Week 2, and I’m pretty proud of myself that I’ve managed to achieve some modest progress already, such as interspersing a five-minute jog into my treadmill walk last week, and increasing some of the Nautilus weights from “pathetic” to merely “puny.” Also, after working out yesterday, I felt really good for the rest of the day -- relaxed and loose, yet alert. Then came to

I've recently discovered the blogging term "meme," which is definred genberally as a unit of cultural information that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another. In Blogworld, a meme is an idea that's shared and passed from blog to blog, like a question posted in one blog and answered in many other blogs. I thought up a new one (at least I hope it's new), so here goes: Ten Things I’d Like to Learn More About The psychology of belief British history Buddhism Playing the guitar The human body Indie rock Plant names Greek and Roman history and mythology Death Foreign languages (particularly Spanish, Latin and French) So who wants to go next? Feel free to pass it on, even if you don't make a list of your own.

We saw “Good Night, and Good Luck” last night -- a great movie. It could have been a play -- there are only three or four settings, a small cast and dialogue rather than action. The advantage of the movie is that you get the close-ups of people’s faces, especially Murrow, not a chatty guy but an extremely eloquent one. I first saw his famous summation in the McCarthy “See It Now” piece in journalism school and was again struck by what a brilliant writer Murrow was, how intelligently, clearly and elegantly he expressed complex ideas, as well as the truth of the ideas themselves. It’s obviously tempting to substitute “Bush” for “the junior Senator from Wisconsin ,” but of course it’s not that simple. There’s more than one point man now (Rove, Cheney, Wolfowitz, etc.), and they’re smart enough not to hog the limelight and work more behind the scenes. But they’re doing the same thing -- exploiting a climate of fear to achieve their own ends (power, money and oligarchy), and implying

This morning I went to a post-birth baby shower for a colleague who just became a first-time father. He has that glassy-eyed look I remember well. It's from the sleep deprivation plus that hit-by-a-truck, holy-shit-what-happened-to-my-life realization. I told him afterwards about our take on parenting a newborn. Basically, it's like joining the army. The first three or four months is boot camp. Basically, it's really hard, really taxing, and it's not what you thought you signed up for. But you learn a lot in a hurry -- mostly about pushing your own limits and bonding with others in your unit, but also important survival skills like changing a baby who's power-pooped all the way up her back, how to fall instantly and deeply asleep in any sort of foxhole for 20 minutes when you have the chance, graciously accepting help and advice from your in-laws, etc. Also you have a vague understanding that the easier and more rewarding stuff is coming, though you just don't k

In the last few days I've discovered two things to get excited about. These are things I don't expect anyone else would be dorky enough to get excited about, but we're all unique and special, yada yada yada. The first thing is that I just learned the extremely useful verb "to zerbit," which is what Ben does to the kids to cause tremendous, delightful fits of giggles. He's much better at it than I am -- he has some way of easily accessing the tender, juicy area around the belly button. That makes two words so far this month for this word nerd to delight in (the other was smurgling ). The second exciting discovery is the trailer and approximate release date for the remake of "The Poseidon Adventure." I make no secret of the fact that the original 1972 version is my favorite movie of all time. I had heard rumors of a remake because I actually visited a couple of Poseidon Adventure fan site a while ago, including this one and this one . I'm mostly

I guess this blogging thing has started to affect my brain, because I’ve jumped another blogger bandwagon. What the hell, like I tell myself about the rest of this drivel, at least my kids will have something to know me by, assuming the North Koreans don’t nuke the Internet. My herbs and spices are in alphabetical order. I cut the ends off bay leaves so they’ll fit in my jars. I love starch, dairy foods and melted cheese (not raw). Fettuccine alfredo is almost ideal. My favorite food in the universe is Pizzeria Uno deep-dish cheese and tomato pizza. I can’t stand stupid people who don’t care that they’re stupid. I converted to Judaism in 1998 even though I’m an atheist ( my rabbi said it was OK). I love Macs and deplore Windows. I especially enjoy desktop publishing. I am a huge Boston Red Sox fan. I’ve watched the Oscars every year since about 1978. One year I had to watch it in my father’s car on a little TV that ran off the cigarette lighter because our power was out. When I was 10

Today's post by Finslippy resonated with me, and I'm sure also with the thousands of other parents with picky eaters for kids. I refer to Sarah, who is totally doing payback to her parents who were finicky pains in the ass as kids and are now hoping that one of these days their daughter will consume some for of protein and not wind up wizened dwarf by the time she hits puberty. I have to keep reminding myself that I wound up more or less OK with a much worse childhood diet than she has (mostly Nutter-Butters, creamed corn and cold cereal). At least she eats fresh fruit, which is more than I ever did, or do. Here's what I mean. Foods that Sarah will consent to eat: Chex (only if soggy), Cheerios (only if crunchy), and sometimes raisin bran raisin bread wheat bread (a few select brands) butter and margarine French toast pizza crusts (all traces of tomato and cheese carefully removed) yogurt store-bought yogurt smoothies (but NOT Stonyfield Farms) a

We’re currently in the market for a house, which means I troll ZipRealty.com all day long, waiting to pounce on anything that’s new on the market and fantasizing heavily about houses we can’t afford. It’s basically Internet porn for homeowners and/or wanna-bes. But unlike real porn (at least the quality stuff), the people depicted in the photos, meaning the agents, are extremely unattractive, for the most part. Most of them are middle-aged women, and they obviously all go to the same Extreme Makeover for Realtors® consultant, given that they all have huge hair (apparently the result of bad perms and too much “product,” as the Queer Eye guys would say) and makeup that was apparently slathered on with a trowel. I saw an agent in person a few weeks ago who looked like Vampira -- eyebrows completely plucked off and redrawn with Crayola “raw sienna,” splotches of consumptive-looking blush and a hairdo from which I simply had to avert my eyes. And she had the nerve to give us attitude for c

I’m a little tired today for several reasons: two awakenings and eventual parental co-sleeping by three-year old, spousely sound effects resembling an intermittently clogged dental suction device played over a loudspeaker, and of course the nightly symphony from Milo, who feels love only when it’s dark and quiet. Milo brings a lot to the table: excellent facial stripes, an extremely mellow disposition, enjoyment of tummy rubs, etc. But he also has a habit, as many cats do, of checking in with us several times between midnight and dawn, which involves a scenic tour of the bed accompanied by various vocalizations that can be translated roughly as: “I’m here! Hi! Hi! What’s going on? Wanna play cards? Are you sleeping? No? How ‘bout some ear rubs? Fine. Mind if I look around? That side looks comfy -- lemme stroll over this abdomen to check it out. Not bad... it’ll do... Ahhh! [THUD] Hey, this comforter looks suspiciously like bread dough. I hope it’s been kneaded enough... [WOOTEN WOOTEN

Well, I survived the holidays and am now only hip-deep rather than neck-deep in the Lower Ninth Ward of office work. It was certainly worth it, though. The highlight of the trip is that no one broke a leg, and the kids were actually very good for the ridiculous number of hours they were strapped into their car seats, though they ate a frightening amount of raisin bread and the always-popular Subaru Trail Mix (Cheerios and Craisins). We began our odyssey in Deep Jersey (Clark, to be exact) for a surprise 30th anniversary party for Ben’s father and stepmother. A good time was had by all, since the host had laid in plenty of beer, the company was excellent, and the basement was chock-full of dolls and other amusements for the girls. Sarah bonded immediately with the nine-year-old daughter of Ben’s stepsister. Not only is she not intimidated by older kids, but she loves being around them, and when leaving school, she sometimes dashes up and hugs various bemused-looking fifth-graders. The n