Yay, look who's here!

Please welcome Precious 3.0, also known as Baby Hudson.

Here he is with his adoring grandma.

Wanna know by how many minutes I missed his blessed birth?

Yeah. That would be 10. TEN MINUTES. Who even knew he was going to be such a speed demon?

He is tiny and snuggly and precious, and when he cries he makes the same adorable frown that Ethan does. Also I think I may already be his favorite. It's a hunch that I have. Jenny is doing great and was looking much cuter and perkier than any woman 10minutes after labor ought to look.

And it's a good thing GH wasn't with me at the hospital because I probably would have dragged him off to a supply closet and told him that I needed one of those, NOW.

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I think Yasmin and I are fighting

So despite my best sunscreening efforts, I have to face the fact that I am to be again accompanied this summer by the sheer awesomeness that is Melasma, aka The Mask of Pregnancy.

So help me, I'm starting to look like Adolph Hitler.

Now, I could be wrong here. But isn't the point of birth control to actually reduce the similarities you share with pregnant women? Because I kind of thought that was what it was for.

Here's an awesome pic of last summer's version. And I bet you just thought I had a wicked 5 o'clock shadow . . .

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Rejoice with me!

Remember that one time when we all talked about our financial goals?

I said then that these were the things I wanted to start working on:

1. Start funding an IRA

This one will have to wait, maybe until next year. But retirement savings is still happening so that's good. Have run a couple of retirement calculators to see how much we will need, just because it's kind of fun when my heart stops dead in my chest like that and my left arm gets all squeezy. (And yes, I always check the "No Social Security Benefits" box because hi, like I am even banking on that). A good guideline seems to be saving 10-15% of your gross income for retirement, leaning more on the higher end if you're over 30 (or if you're under 30 but happen to be smart).

2. Get our savings into accounts where they can earn more interest

Hee! Totally did this! I opened an Orange Savings Account online through ING Direct. At 1.40% interest, it's not the absolute highest interest rate available (that would be Ally with 1.85% at the moment, for those who are interested). But I've heard great things about ING's customer service, there are no fees, they are FDIC insured, and I very much like their subaccounts feature.

So now instead of one lump at my bank earning hardly any interest, I now have several different savings accounts with cool names like "Emergency Fund," "Car Fund," "Vacation," "Christmas," "House Downpayment," and "GH's iPod Touch That I Promised He Could Buy This Fall if We Put the Rest of the Tax Return into Savings." Not all of these accounts have any money in them, but having this visual reminder of what I'm actually saving for is really helpful.

3. Get my student loan out of the picture asap because even though it's not "bad" debt like the credit card kind, it still nags at me and I'd like it to be gone

Which brings us to . . . .drum roll . . . .

Yes!!!

We totally paid off my loan this week. I started doing the math and realized that at the rate we were going it was going to take years and years and I just wanted to be done. And this debt-free feeling is better than an IRA, I can tell you.

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Brick and mortar and possibly my new stalker

Yesterday I went to my local Wells-Fargo branch to deposit a couple of checks and proceeded to have this interaction with the teller who assisted me.

Teller: "How's your day going?"

Me: "Fine, thanks."

Teller: "And what are you up to today?"

Me: blink.

Um, depositing checks? I wasn't quite sure how to answer that, so I sort of just looked at him.

Teller, prompting me helpfully: "Are you working today? Or just running errands?"

Me: "Um, you know. Getting things done." Things like minding my own flipping business.

Teller: "And how has your week been so far?"

Me: "Fine." SERIOUSLY. Are we done here??? I don't have to tell you my life story if I don't feel like it.

Now, I realize that the guy was just trying to make friendly conversation. I do that as part of my job too, but it seems like you really have to ease into that sort of thing--that it happens naturally the longer your interaction lasts. And you generally want to follow the OTHER persons lead.

I've actually noticed that all of the tellers and bankers at that branch go a bit above and beyond with the greetings and the chit-chat. It's probably something that is encouraged as part of their workplace culture. One Friday evening I was asked by female employees if I have any fun plans for the weekend, which didn't bother me at all. Does this mean I am sexist, perhaps? Was I just so thrilled that as a newlywed I could say something to her that was not "eat peanut butter with a spoon by myself all night while I wonder which animal is going to get to my dead body first?" Or was this guy maybe just not as smooth about the chatting as some of the women are?

It's interesting to speculate though on what other conversational gambits may await me in future visits.

"Hi there, what do you like to do for fun?"
"So, what have you eaten today?"
"Please map out for me exactly what you will be doing for the rest of the day."
"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"
"What kind of birth control do you use?"
"Have you had a bowel movement in the last 24 hours?"

Should be good times.

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As promised

Here is the fruit of my labor. Hold on to your ovaries:

I know, right??? Could you just die? (Not that I flatter myself, but my friends do say I know how to stitch a garter.)

For the knitters (or should-be knitters) who want to try it, this is the garter stitch wrap top from Simple Knits for Cherished Babies by Erika Knight. I used Debbie Bliss's Baby Cashmerino yarn, which is so soft that every now and then I had to stop knitting and run the skein along my cheek while I purred like a cat. Try it, it's fun!

I modified the pattern because I was running out of yarn. Also, no lie, I had the thing almost finished and then realized that it was too small. Like, small as in the only thing it would ever fit is perhaps a malnourished Chihuahua. So I ripped the whole thing out and started over again. (Only for my sister would I do this. Anyone else would just have to not feed their kid. Or get a Chihuahua.) This time I followed the directions for the size 6-9 month sweater and ended up with something that might fit a newborn for at least a few days. So do be very aware of that if you give it a go.

Check it out, though! Buttonholes with actual buttons! Yeah, that was me. I totally did that. And if any of you out there are knitters or crocheters, you can find me at Ravelry under the username "missnem." I'd love to meet up and see what you're working on.

I wrapped the sweater and gave it to Jen on Saturday at a little brunch/shower thrown by the ever-elegant Jeri. Also, look how cute my pregnant sister is! Her face isn't even big. She's due in a week and you wouldn't know she's pregnant except for the part where she's tired and uncomfortable . . . and also the massive growth in her abdomen which causes men at church to do a double take and tell her how fat she's getting. Those men are lucky to be alive right now, I can tell you what. If I weren't wishing for her to go into labor this week, I would instead be wishing that this Sunday were the day when she started the killin's.

Also here's a pic of Savvy at the shower, in a Snow White costume (of course). Because if you're talking about cute things you really can't be leaving her out.

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Lady of leisure

This is one of those weekends where I work Saturday instead of Friday (blah) but I'm determined to make the most of it. Which is why I will be doing the following today:

Watching Cranford. Has anybody here seen this? I've only watched the first episode so far and it is delicious. Plus it allows me to play my favorite game, which is called "Shriek the Name of That British Actor and the Names of the Other Films or Plays in Which You Have Seen Them." Extra points if you can do this before their faces come fully into focus. I tell you. Best. Game. Ever. Is especially fun for those sitting around you.


Knitting. Am finishing a baby sweater for the due-in-two-weeks addition to the Precii. As soon as the buttons are on I will take pictures and post them here. But ladies, I must warn you. It is quite likely that one or more of your ovaries will burst upon viewing. Guys, I really don't know what it will do to you. But be on the lookout for strange women running up and telling you that they just saw this one baby sweater on a blog and they need a baby NOW and could you please help out with that.

Eating clam chowder. I made a quite good clam chowder last night, taking me one step closer in my Quest for the Perfect Clam Chowder Recipe. Other quests include The Perfect Cobbler Recipe (done, thanks to Danalee) and The Perfect Pizza Dough Recipe (yeah, so not there yet).

Possibly showering. But only if I have time.

What would everyone here want to do on an enforced day of leisure?

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Now that I think of it, she does have very nice nails

Sunday morning I was in a rush to finish getting ready. I applied eye-liner and was confused to see that at the end of it I did NOT look sexy, but rather hung-over and possibly infectious. Turned out I was using the identically-packaged Mary Kay lipliner by mistake. Woops.

Only, as I was soon to learn, it could have been much worse. The woman who got up to teach the Relief Society lesson prefaced her talk with a plea for everyone to please make sure they weren't letting their (metaphorical) plates get too full, which could lead to disorganization and rushing and mistakes. Of which she proceeded to give a personal example.

She held up two small, nearly identical dropper-type bottles. The only difference was that one was slightly bigger than the other, and the caps were two different shades of green. As she held them up, she said, "Okay. This is a bottle of eye drops. And this . . . is nail glue."


I think you may know where I'm going with this.

While they were out of town last week, her husband asked her to grab the eye drops. She was in a hurry and got them from her bag, thinking, "That's a good idea, I could use some drops myself," and quickly squeezed a few drops into her eye.

Of course, she'd grabbed the nail glue. And yes, please take whatever time you need to grimace your own eyes shut at such a horrifying prospect. Fifteen minutes later she was in the ER waiting for a doctor to dig the dried glue out of her eyeballs and she was incredibly lucky not to have permanent damage.

So let's everybody take a moment to slow down, smell the flowers, and read the labels. The world will be a better place for it, I'm sure.

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A few letters I've been meaning to post

Dear ClearPlay,

Our subscription to your service expired three months ago. Since that time, you have not created any new filters that would tempt us to come back. Instead of providing cleaner versions of the movies we want to see (read: the R and PG-13 ones), you have made the somewhat inexplicable choice to focus all your efforts on removing smut, profanity, and violence from PG and G-rated movies such as Ice Age: The Meltdown and Jonas Brothers: The 3D Concert Experience.

We no longer love you, and we want to find the people who want their G-rated movies edited and go hit them with bricks.

ps. Your website is down. Way to suck.


Dear library mommies,

When I tell you that a certain program/activity is meant for children of elementary-school age, I actually mean that. Please do not avoid eye contact with me while dragging in your toddlers, believing that they either have the motor skills of an 8-year-old or that you will just complete the activity FOR them. Because you're taking up all the seats meant for the actual real kids for whom this activity was intended. Way to go, there.


Dear American Educational Services (aka, people who own my student loan)

I am sorry that you chose to hire not one, but at least two technical customer service representatives who believe that www.mint.com is a web browser. And that when I emailed you about the additional security measures that were preventing Mint.com's financial software from being able to access my student loan information, your response was that I should try using Internet Explorer or Netscape.

Thanks for that. You are idiots. Also? Netscape? Seriously? Is it 1997 again and I just didn't notice?


Dear Mint.com,

I love you and want to have your babies, which I will even bear naturally in a birthing pool because that is just how much I love you.

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Just a thought

Maybe this is just me being a cranky pants, but is anyone else tired of all the Michael Jackson coverage? Especially since there are other things going on in the world that actually, well, matter? (This is not to say that Michael Jackson's death does not matter to the people who were close to him, because of course it does, but it doesn't actually affect the rest of us in any tangible way.)

Here's my beef: To me, this whole media frenzy is not even about him. It's actually about guilt. You heard me. Now that Michael Jackson is suddenly dead, everyone wants to talk about him and play his songs and love him and make a huge stinking deal about the whole thing. Three weeks ago, no one was talking about Michael Jackson except to wonder if his tour was going to be a train wreck or not.

But now, NOW, it's a different story. So even though there are actual, ongoing things happening in the world that could use our attention (hello, Iran), all anybody wants to do is make themselves feel better about the part where they called him Wacko Jacko and thought he was a child molester for the last however many years. I can't blame the media for this, because they are a business and they run the stories that viewers will tune in for. And clearly, viewers seem to have an infinite capacity right now for Michael Jackson.

When someone's dead, though, it's kind of late for the love-fest. Heaven knows it's too late to do the recipient any good. Maybe guilt can occasionally be a useful feeling. Instead of trying to absolve ourselves of it with these huge misuses of our collective energy and attention for someone who is dead and can't actually benefit from them, maybe we can just say to ourselves, "Huh. Now that this person is gone, I find myself remembering all of the good associations and memories, rather than the bad. I will use this feeling to remind myself to show more appreciation, kindness, and understanding for the people who are still in my life."

Is it just me who's been thinking this?

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4th of July HL/LL

Hope everyone's Independence Days were merry and bright.

Here were my highlights:

Watched Season 1 of 30 Rock on DVD. Man that's a funny show.

Went to a drive-in movie on Friday night. It doesn't get more American that that, I tell you. Considered finding a set of swings to go sing sad songs on ("Stranded at the drive-in . . . ") but instead just ate my Little Ceasar's pizza and Oreos while watching the movies.

Listened to NPR's Reading of the Declaration of Independence. Got teary-eyed.

Made an amazing corn/black bean/avocado/tomato/cilantro/garlic/lime salsa for the Family 4th of July Dinner in Provo

The Family 4oJD menu: Hot dogs, cheeseburgers with bacon & avocado, corn on the cob, salsa & chips, watermelon, cherries, lemonade, Canadian chocolate, and ice cream cones.

GH and I brought fireworks to light for the kiddies, including the piece de resistance--a firework that shot off 7 mortars 30 feet into the air, each of which released 5 parachuting figures from the sky. Blew. Their. Minds. Also? Beat that, all other aunties and uncles.

At church on Sunday there were two baby blessings, which meant that all the testimonies afterward were by members of said babies' families and were more babymonies than my-country-is-the-only-true-country-unlike-some-other-sucky-countries-I-will-now-mention-and-it's-also-Jesus'-favorite-so-neener-monies. Sorry, Mormon Child Bride.

I must also, however, include the lowlights:

The drive-in double-feature consisted of Year One and Land of the Lost. Both were lame, although Land of the Lost had some scatological humor that amused me greatly. Plus it was after midnight by that point, which may have had something to do with it.

After spending loads of time and love and fresh organic ingredients on it, I left the black bean salsa in my apartment. Because I am awesome. Grabbed more ingredients at the store so that Jen, Coolboy, & I could whip up another one superfast. (After I got done writhing around on the ground about how stupid I was to have forgotten the stupid thing.)

The Stadium of Fire fireworks sucked hard. GH timed it and they only lasted about 8 minutes. He now gets to feel smug and validated about L****'s claim to have the Best Firework Show in Utah. Uuugh. L**** is always claiming crap against Utah County that isn't true. (See the completely one-sided Cache vs Utah County feud that Utah Co isn't even aware of because that's how NOT rivals they are. )

Here's hoping everyone else had nice long weekends as well. And now it's back to the regular programming called Working with the Public (ie, the people who think that the words of "the library is now closed" is actually their cue to go lock themselves in the bathroom for the next 10 minutes. Because why go home and use your own bathroom when there's a dirty, smelly, disgusting public one right there? Of course, that's me assuming they're actually using the bathroom as intended. They're probably just stuffing books and DVDs into their clothing.)

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Here

Last Saturday, I went forth to a solitary film therapy session, one which I have not gone for in a considerable amount of time, taking into account the sheer lack of films recently that attracted my attention long enough.

I was taking quite abit of a blind plunge as this film I chose to watch is a local film made by Ho Tzu Nyen simply called "Here", thanks to the deeply engrained mindset that Singaporean films lack substance, depth and everything that contends for a worthy watch. But holy smokes, I was proven deeply and forcefully wrong with this particular visual opus.

What this film offered was a meditative reverie for its viewers where time is a variable ignored where the camera just rolled in normal relativity, upon the lush greenery around the fictitious mental facility called Island Hospital (which was really filmed in a former mental hospital, View Road Hospital, in Woodlands). While the viewers loosen their grip and minds and let them slow down to the pace of life in Island Hospital, the film soundtrack - Amazing Grace gently teases and provide an ironic icing on the film. The main protagonist of the film who mysteriously killed his wife and lost his speaking abilities had a line (more like written, actually) that blew my mind quite apart. The hospital staff asked "Why are you here?" His reply was "Because I am not there." Such hidden melancholia, such an expression of his yearning tortured soul.

There were many many other expressions of ''madness'' scattered in the film - one patient claimed there is a planet out there where pills and vitamins flow free from the volcano eruptions while the pathetic humans here pay to buy them, and one (the one which the protagonist fell in love with) claimed since things are so unevenly distributed amongst people, it isn't wrong to take things. In this film, where reality and madness were so commonly interspersed around, sanity became a commodity very, extremely questionable. What is this sanity and insanity, anyway, in this messed up world of ours today?

One character - Robert, brought up a touching (maybe!) issue called "Amor Fati"/"Love of Fate" and that it is ultimately inevitable to evade one's fate through the offered hospital treatment called "videocure", and he, heeding to his philosophy of Amor Fati, decided that videocure wasn't for him and faced with his fate of ''madness'' full throttle. This reminded me immensely of my favourite philosopher - Friedrich W. Nietzsche's notion of Eternal Recurrence, which asked people if their lives operates in a complete cyclical manner, and they have to do the same things again and again, how would they go about with life? The unbearable lightness of being.

Well, the main protagonist of the film, who eventually got released from the hospital, decided to adhere to Amor Fati and checked himself back into the hospital again, to be together with the soulmate he met in the hospital.

"My formula for human greatness is amor fati: that one wants to have nothing different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely to bear the necessary, still less to conceal it--all idealism is mendaciousness before the necessary--but to love it."

~Friedrich W. Nietzsche

I want to watch the film, again.

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I declare I don't know what the young men are about nowadays

Last night GH had his interview with a local television station. Thanks to your prayers/vibes/visualizations, it seemed to go well. Because there were so many applicants, they're doing a round of phone interviews first. Next week we should hear if there will be an in-person interview.

At some point during the conversation GH mentioned something he'd seen on the station's website. The interviewer was surprised and said, "You know, you are the first person I've talked to who has gone to our website. I'm going to make a note of that."

If that's the case, then the thank-you note GH put in the mail this morning should really blow his mind.

But seriously? None of the other applicants went on the website? Or, if they did, they didn't make sure to work that into the conversation somehow? I knew resumes were taking a hit, so I guess it makes sense that interview preparation has gone downhill as well. I mean, yay for other people's laziness making GH look even better by comparison, but it's still kind of sad, especially when so many people really, really need a job, are qualified for said job, but just aren't giving strong interviews.

And now I'm starting to think of all the really bad interviews I've been a part of. Thankfully, I was usually on the hiring and end, not on the "spectacularly blowing an interview" end. (Please not that I said usually, not always.) Methinks there should be a post about this . . .

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