Page's Graduation Party (in pictures)

Random pictures - Sorry if you have dial up!

Page's Graduation (in pictures)

Isaac's end-of-the-year field trip to Wisconsin Dells (in pictures)

Help us name our new puppy!

Yes, he's adorable. He's a Yorkshire Terrier, six months old, and we fell in love immediately. He was kinda expensive, but I'm not saying how much because I just got done whining about how much people in developed countries spend on their pets! I'm a total hypocrite!

But we're having trouble thinking of a good name, so help us out. My ideas so far are: Jonas, Rufus, Wakefield, Bean. Isaac's ideas are: Loving Dog, Meadow, Shadow, Turok.

We're kindof leaning toward Shadow. Suggestions? Since he's kindof a replacement for my husband, maybe we should name him Masud?

Poor George!

Isaac and I went to the Humane Society yesterday afternoon to visit George and turn in our application to adopt him, but it was not meant to be. The staff decided that he should not be adopted to a home that has small children. I disagree, but have to trust the experts. So the search goes on.

I kept Isaac home from school today. He's been complaining of feeling "pukey", and last night while I was at play practice, he started crying and had severe stomach pains. I'm worried that it might be all of the emotional stress that is going on in the house, so I decided to let him sleep in and we're going to spend the day together, maybe looking for puppies, or maybe just hanging out at home. When I was little, my mom used to let us stay home from school for no reason, and sometimes she would even take me shopping. Those days were so awesome! Who cares about perfect attendance, anyway? It's all about balance.

Wish us luck in the puppy search!

That doggie in the window

As a preemptive strike against the depression that is sure to result at the loss of our husband/father, we have decided to get a dog. I’ve been researching breeds online, and I’ve considered plunking down a pile of cash for a purebred. Then I stumbled across the horror that is “puppy mills”. Do you know about this? It’s terrible!

Now, I would like to remind my readers that there are human beings in this world who are suffering, and I believe that we (in developed nations) spend way too much of our resources on our animals. But, at the same time, all living things deserve to be treated with respect. No living thing deserves to be tortured – even George W.! Gourmet doggie biscuits may be overboard, though.

If you’ve read my recent posts about my hermit crabs (notice, I’m calling them MY hermit crabs, not Isaac’s), you will know that I have a soft spot for animals. Although I don’t purport to be a vegetarian because I feel bad for the cows, I do cringe when I think of the slaughterhouse. Well, this puppy mill business has got me all upset.

Puppy mills are horrible places where dogs are kept locked in cages, often out in the cold year round, with little or no care. They are bred constantly, and the puppies are shipped out to pet stores and sold on the internet or through the newspaper. Sometimes they don’t get sold, and live their lives in those awful places, or worse.

Google it if you think you can stomach it. It’s so sad.

And this is where pet store puppies come from! Augh!

So puppies or full grown dogs that are rescued from these awful places are usually terrified of humans. They are not housebroken, because they’ve always just pooped right in their cages. They have not been able to run, play or socialize like they should have. Some of them have severe medical problems like splayed feet from walking on wires too long, matted and infested hair, ear infections, etc.

We found a dog at the local animal shelter who had been rescued from a puppy mill. His name is George (but we’re going to change it to Jonas). He’s a small poodle with short black curly hair. He’s very timid, but we hope we can bring him around with lots of love. He’s a year and a half old, and spent his entire life in a puppy mill. Poor thing!

We are going over this afternoon to turn in our application and pick up some pet supplies. We’re not 100% sure that we’ll get him yet, because he needs to be temperament tested to be around Isaac first, but I’m already in love. I hope it works!

Bullets

· Isaac is almost done with kindergarten. This Thursday his class is taking a field trip to Wisconsin Dells to ride on “The Original Ducks” (google it if you don’t know what it is). I am going along as a chaperone. I am almost having an anxiety attack just thinking about all those kindergarteners in a boat on the river.
· I spent the day trying to clean the garage. All I actually accomplished was to shove more clutter into bags and piles. Fortunately, Masud will be taking some of the clutter with him to Ohio so that cuts down on the amount of stuff I’ll have to eventually sort.
· Tonight I went to another one of Page’s awards ceremonies. Last Wednesday, it was the senior awards night, and tonight it was the music awards banquet. Apparently I was cheering too loudly, because at the end of the night she informed me that I was “annoying” her, and that I should get a ride home with mom and dad. Humph. Serves me right for trying to be supportive, I guess.
· I have not seen the DaVinci Code yet. Page saw it yesterday and said it was “not as good as the book.” I might just wait until we go to B-Desh and buy a bootleg copy.
· Isaac and I have finished reading the first four of the “Captain Underpants” series. Highly recommended for those of you who enjoy potty humor.
· We have less than a month until opening night for our play. I’m getting a little nervous. This weekend, I went to several thrift stores and found some very ugly dresses for my costumes. One of the skirts has a Kathie Lee label. Oh, the horror!
· I think I washed dishes 25 times today. Dish washing ranks just above toilet cleaning in my “loathsome housework” list, probably because it is like stringing beads on a thread that has no knot in the end.
· It’s 8:00 and I’m in my P.J.’s. I think that means I should start getting social security checks soon.
· I am slightly disturbed that my life has become so boring that I have nothing good to blog about. I’m hoping grad school provides some exciting blog fodder.

Crippled Crabs

Last Saturday I took Isaac to the Portage pet store because we were going to get another hermit crab. There were no small crabs left, so I looked at the four remaining "medium-sized" crabs. They are about the size of a golf ball.

Right away, I noticed that two of the crabs had missing legs and were exploding out of their shells. Being the crab expert that I am, I figured they needed to molt and change into bigger shells. My crustacean-loving heart was broken for the little guys, and I decided to plunk down the $20 and buy both of them.

We took them home and welcomed Sauron and Voldemort to the Zaman clan. Raki and Tough Jumbo came out and greeted them, and Isaac and I treated the group to fresh bananas, apples, lettuce and dessicated fish. Mmmm. Dessicated fish.

They seem to be happy in their new home, and hopefully they will molt and be happy. I'll try to get some pictures this weekend.

In other news, last night the school board voted to reinstate the four veteran teachers that they had reduced to 75% last month. The elementary teacher that was cut will not be getting her job back, but at least the high school teachers get to stay. I'm very relieved. Now, we must think of fund raisers.

Zuma, killer of productivity

It's been raining for three days straight now, and there is no sun in sight. I am already bummed out because Masud is leaving, and I've been sitting on the couch for an hour playing Zuma. Yesterday's dishes are in the sink, on the counter, and on the table. There is a pile of laundry next to me, my bed isn't made, and the house smells like yesterday's fish fry.

Wahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Isaac is at his grandma's house so I should be DOING SOMETHING, like reading an important book to get ready for school, picking out my classes, emailing professors to get on their waiting list, blah, blah, blah...

I think I'll play another round of Zuma.

The News

I can finally spill the beans. Some of you know about this already, but for those of you who are not in the "inner circle", here it goes:

1) Back in March, I was accepted to the Development Studies Ph.D. program at UW-Madison. I have officially decided that I will start in the fall. I will be majoring in Sociology, minoring in Economics, with a tertiary specialization in Women's Studies. My research proposal was on women working in IT (information technology) in Bangladesh. (are you snoring yet?) Watch out academia! Here I come!

2) Today, I told my boss that I will be leaving my position in August in order to go to school. (This was why I didn't post anything before - I didn't want people finding out via blogspot.)

3) I'm going to Bangladesh in July for three weeks! I'm so excited - my brother-in-law Mithu is FINALLY going to celebrate his marriage. He got married in 2002 but until now he has not been able to leave the country. He got his greencard a few weeks ago, so we are all going to the Desh with him and his wife to celebrate! I'll also be doing some work with the Nari Jibon clan as well.

4) Masud got a new job. It's a GREAT job at a GREAT company - a position that he's been dreaming about for years. There is a big bummer, though. The company is in Canton, Ohio. He'll be leaving the day after Memorial Day, and I suppose we'll see him once a month or so. Sigh.

So there you have it. I may not post often, but I make up for lack of quantity with quality, that's for sure!

Ahhh, glorious Friday.

This morning, I woke up to a mysterious clicking sound and realized that one of the hermit crabs must have emerged from beneath the substrate. Those poor dudes have been buried under the sand for almost a month now. I dug them up once and realized they were still alive, and since then I've just kept their terrarium moist and left them alone since they are probably molting. I did a daily sniff test, too, to make sure that they were not dead and rotting in there. But I was starting to worry.

So imagine my relief when I grabbed the flashlight and saw Hermit Crab #2 "Raki" sitting on the drinking water dish. Of course I scared the crap out of her with the flashlight, and she squished back into her shell. But I was so happy to see her that I almost cried!

This is why I'm a vegetarian - I have an emotional attachment to a crustacean. I've been very worried!! (Wendy - are hermit crabs crustaceans?)

I'm so glad it's Friday. This weekend is supposed to be nice, so I'm going to do some more spring cleaning. This week was very intense - not so much because of work but some big things are happening in my personal life. I'm not quite ready to announce it to the world yet (NO, I'm not pregnant) but hopefully by the end of next week, I can post it here. It's big, believe me, and I have good reasons for not posting it yet.

Anyway, now that I've got you all riled up, it's time for me to play another round of "Insaniquarium" from popcap.com. It's addictive.

My bro...isn't he cute?



Page and Josh sang a nice duet (here they are waiting to begin - goofing off of course).



Scary close-up!



Grandpas are good for piggy-back rides.



Here's Page's quartet. They got first place!

A Bummer Week.

This week started off with an emergency school board meeting to discuss the huge budget problems in the Montello School District. The board is looking at a deficit of $400,000 this year and another $3-400,000 next year. They have cut back four of the school's best and most loyal teachers (including Mrs. Ellebecker, my beloved art teacher) to 75% time. Of course, being cut back is better than losing their jobs altogether. But they will have to pay for the 25% of insurance (on top of their regular contributions) and they will lose a chunk of salary, which could be devastating. What this means for the students is less choices for their favorite non-core classes - Art, FFA, Business and Family Consumer Science.

Mr. Guttenberg, the superintendent, made a very compassionate and reasonable presentation about why the decision was made. They had no choice. Declining enrollment is forcing them to cut corners. Sadly, the problem can only get worse - fewer options means fewer students will want to come to Montello.

An article in the local paper ends with the statement, "We may be looking at consolidation with another school district in the not to distant future."

So that was depressing.

[Soapbox alert: What is wrong with this country that we can't properly fund education??? Isn't it common sense that if we want to grow and succeed as a nation, we need to invest in our future "human capital"? I just don't get it!!!]

Then, on Tuesday, I developed my traditional spring flu - sore throat and sinus infection. Lovely. I want to cut my own head off to get rid of the pressure.

And, to close out the week with a bang, I went to a conference on the Methamphetamine problem in Wisconsin. It focused heavily on "drug endangered children" and the presenters showed some horrific pictures of child abuse by meth addict parents. If this drug makes it to Marquette County...it will be devastating. Meth is addicting for 90% of first time users, and once addicted, there is a very small chance of recovery. It's bad stuff.

I need some good news!

Today I'm going to Oshkosh to hear my sister sing at the state Solo and Ensemble competition. Hopefully that will lift my spirits.

In the garage, I feel safe.

It's a great Weezer song. I love that song! "No one hears me sing this song..."

But today I faced the abyss that is my garage, and I felt overwhelmed, not safe. The week after we bought our house last October, I went through and put piles of crap in garbage bags. Mr. Zellmer left EVERYTHING here, and in order to clean the place and move our own stuff in, I just shoved everything into boxes and bags and threw it in the garage (which already had years of detritus piled up). Then my dad got here with our overstuffed U-Haul. Our materialism came back to haunt me, and we piles more stuff into the garage. All winter it lurked in the back of my mind, the monster that I would have to face one day in the spring.

That day was today. My goal was to move stuff around enough to create room for the crap that I put on my porch throughout the winter. It was a huge task, involving a large bonfire in the back yard.

I'm happy to report that the porch is half empty. The garage is another story.

I had planned to empty out the other half tomorrow, but I decided to spend time wtih my grandma instead. Grandma is much more fun than cleaning.

Update your blog!

I'm busy, okay??
Here's a list.

1) Walmart has made a "marketing decision" to stop selling guns in a third of its stores. I particularily love the last line of the article that I linked to in that last sentence...

But the National Rifle Association said it was concerned people in rural areas, where Wal-Mart may be the only vendor, may no longer have access to guns.

Yeah. People have no access to HEALTH CARE, but we better make sure they have guns. I like to buy a gun every Tuesday, dammit, and I wouldn't want to have to drive all the way to the big city to do it.

2) I love Easter for the candy, but I hate jelly beans. Except "Brachs Tropical Flavored Jelly Bird Eggs". Mmmm, the purple ones are sooooo good.

3) Isaac and I are reading a great book called "The Tale of Despereaux" every night. I highly recommend it for kids of all ages.

4) After I read 3-4 chapters out of "Despereaux", I read (out-loud) a few chapters from a book called "Naked Economics". It puts Isaac to sleep in about 2 minutes (he does listen though!) and I'm learning a lot about the financial world. Economics rocks.

5) I've been having economically-related dreams lately where I'm teaching a class on economics and I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

6) Ice Age 2 is great. There are two swear words..."Ass" and "Damn". What if Isaac says those words in Kindergarten? The horror.

7) Some guy with an Indian (Pakistani?) accent just called me saying he was from Verizon, and offered me a package deal to get 12 Indian channels for $55 a month. I could see Indian Idol! But then I would have to stop buying my lunch and that would suck.

8) Apparently Isaac had a picture day a few weeks ago at school and I completely forgot about it. He brought home the proofs in his backpack today, and his hair is completely uncombed, he is wearing a stained sweatshirt, and I think there is a smudge of jelly on his chin. Mother of the year, here I come!

The Eye-mote

Those of you who have known me for some time are probably aware of my eye-poking phobia. I think I've even discussed it once or twice on this blog. For those of you who don't know, I am terrified that I'm going to be poked in the eye with something sharp. I can't stand it if something sharp (like a pencil or the corner of a book) is pointed towards my eye - I have to either move my head or put my hand up to shield my eyes.

Yeah, I'm nuts.

But lately I've been obsessed with Sylvia Plath. I started reading "The Bell Jar" for the library book club and loved it. Then I found a book of her poetry on the half-priced pile at the bookstore and fell in love. I have never really gotten into poetry, except for Emily Dickinson, but this woman was amazing. I knew I loved her, but then I came upon the poem entitled "The Eye-Mote"

Oh, she's a goddess.

Movie Recommendation

Does this seem racist to you?

Mr Bush said on Thursday that the message should be: "If you are doing a job that Americans won't do, you're welcome here for a period of time to do that job."

(From the BBC)

I guess folks are only welcome here if they want to do a shit job that nobody else will do.

If you're a doctor or a lawyer, well, you're out of luck. The American Dream is all yours, as long as you're willing to work long hours for low pay. But, hey, you're probably used to it!

More information here.

For some interesting insight into the important role that immigrants play in our economy/society, please see the movie "A Day Without A Mexican". It's a very entertaining presentation of what would happen to California if all the Mexicans disappeared. Go rent it. Now.

Warning: Melodrama Ahead!

I went to a funeral today. My grandma's last sibling, Audrey, died early this week. I wasn't very close to Aunt Audrey, but I went to support my grandma, who is devastated to be the last surviving member of her family.

Funerals are always sad, but since Aunt Audrey was a Lutheran, I came out of the service wanting to kill myself. There was much talk of the crucifixion, original sin, and how "Christianity is the only religion that has a SAVIOR! All the other religions make you do it on your own!"

Of course, being the mental patient that I am, I thought about the inevitable loss of my grandparents, my parents, and possibly my husband (who is a decade older than I am, and has a family history of early bucket-kicking). The tears were dripping down my chin, and I started to think about how awful it would be to lose a child. I nearly had to get up and leave because I was beginning to sob.

Mortality is a fact of life, but I'm terrified to face it. My cyber-friend Zeenat sometimes blogs about the loss of her father. I can barely stand reading those posts. It breaks my heart.

Then I began to think about our grieving process. We spend lots of money on elaborate wooden boxes that will be used for a few hours and then buried in the ground. It seems very silly!! Most people believe in an afterlife, but our hearts break when our loved ones pass on into that supposedly glorious place. If we truly believe that it's a glorious place, why do we mourn? We mourn for the loss of our relationship with that person, the loss of the future they had, the loss of possibilities. This emotional irrationality is what makes us human.

And what about the people who are not mourned? According to this article (courtesy of Rezwan), up to 200 million women around the world are missing, and each year up to three million women lose their lives as a result of gender-based violence. Why don't we mourn these women? Why is it so difficult to find them?

Just ask my friend, Deb Anderson, who was walking through the local cemetery one day and saw a gravestone that said "Unidentified Woman". She learned that the woman was a murder victim. Deb has been working for years to find the identity of the woman. Many people wouldn't give it a second thought, but Deb believes that this woman deserves the dignity of a name on her gravestone, and so she continues the search.

Yes, our grieving process is strange, but even stranger is the fact that we give so much value to one human being while another can disappear without acknowledgement. What does it say about our world that there are hundreds of millions of women missing around the world? Don't these women deserve respect as human beings?

Mortality may be inevitable, but why does it disproportionately affect women? We need to fix this. Our future as (emotionally irrational) human beings depends on it. Until all humans are valued as humans, we will all continue to suffer.

Fulbright conference pictures

One of our activities during the conference was to go to area high schools and talk about the Fulbright program. Most of the conference attendees were foreign Fulbrighters visiting the US, but each group had one US Fulbright alum. My group went to Nicholas Senn High School and I thought it was a great experience. Don't be deceived by the beautiful facade on this high school - it's a struggling Chicago school. The students were very attentive, however, and I was relieved that not all high school students are as apathetic as the ones in Montello.


On Saturday we had a "dinner cruise" where we boarded a ship and sailed around Lake Michigan for a few hours. We also had a "Student Entertainment Evening" where the talented people among us got up and performed. One of the greatest moments was when these four people got up and did a great blues jam session. One dude had an electric guitar, another was on the acoustic, and yet another played the clarinet. Then my new friend Erin added her beautiful voice. It was so rad!


Here's a better picture of Erin...and my huge chin. Erin was a US Fulbrighter to Canada last year. She lives in Portland now and is working on a PhD in Urban Studies.



The German students dominated the conference. I think there were 13 of them total. They got up and sang some tunes in German and it was pretty hilarious, especially since they force a dude from Turkey and another dude from Afghanistan to join them!

Quickie

I just got back from Chicago, and I have so much to write about. Unfortunately I'm exhausted, so an attempt at blogging would only lead to disaster. I will be posting pictures and narratives later in the week, once I catch up on my sleep, my laundry, and my Isaac.

I did discover that I am an internet junkie. I didn't take my laptop to the conference because I was trying to travel light. I assumed there would be a business center in the hotel where I could check my email. What I didn't bargain for was the exorbitant charges - they offer free broadband in the rooms, and charge an arm and a leg in the business center. So I didn't check my email for 4 days! Torture! God knows what's been posted on my favorite blogs this week! I have a lot of catching up to do I guess.

More soon!

Introducing Tough Jumbo

My friend Wendy has a rad Critter Blog where she writes mini-essays about interesting animals that are educational and fun. One of my favorite posts discusses something called a mammalian penis bone.

She recently posted about hermit crabs, and it made me want one. You may be thinking, "Big deal! This is not worthy of a blog post!" Please understand that I have a terrible problem with pet anxiety. Ever since the "Jonas and Monas" fiasco where we had to get rid of our beautiful Siamese cats because of their unwillingness to stay inside, I have been reluctant to own animals. I once read a horoscope/Chinese numerology/birth number thing about myself that said I am extremely compassionate towards animals, and sometimes care more about them than humans. This is really true! I worry a lot about the pets that I bring into my home! No wonder I'm a vegetarian.

We do have a fish, but he's very elderly. The lifespan of betta fish is supposed to be a year, and most of them are already 6 months old when they get to the pet store. We got Mr. Fidget from Walmart (yes, I admit that I do shop there occasionally) in August of 2004, so he's got to be well over 2 years old by now. Isaac kisses Fidget goodbye in the mornings, so when he passes on to the great fish bowl in the sky, it will be traumatic. I am frankly very worried, because Mr. F. has not eaten anything for the past 6 days. He lets his food chunks float on the surface of his water until they dissolve.

Perhaps another pet can ease the inevitable pain of Fidget's departure?

So we decided to get a crab. I called several stores looking for crabs, and nobody had any. But today Page successfully found a pet store that stocked crabs, and she brought the little guy home. We put him in a plastic storage container (we'll get a real tank soon), and realized that she didn't get enough gravel, so we added some plastic beads. The only thing I don't like so far is that his food is very, very stinky. Ewww. But he's a cute little bugger! He's got these weird eyes and reminds me of Gary from SpongeBob.

Isaac named him "Tough Jumbo", which I think is a really cool name. Isaac has a knack for animal names. He loves Tough Jumbo already, and has been sitting next to the container for the past 2 hours. Occasionally, he yells "Hey MOM! He moved his leg! Quick, come see!"

I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow and Isaac will be taking Tough Jumbo to his grandma's house for the weekend. I'm sure this is the beginning of a wonderful boy-crab relationship.

Gratuitous Isaac Pictures

Isaac is growing his hair out. He wants to have hair like Legolas. I'm trying to explain that his hair is wavy and dark brown - it will never be blonde and straight without a lot of chemicals and daily hot iron sessions. I said that he could certainly look like Frodo, but no, he wants to be a blonde. Sigh.

Lately he's becoming frustrated with his bangs almost getting in his eyes. He has an eye-poking phobia (genetically passed on by me apparently), and he can't stand anything near his eyes. He wants me to cut only the bangs and leave the rest. I have tried to explain the serious evilness of mullets, but he doesn't quite get it.




Notice the infamous knapsack.

Bangla translation please...

I know I have quite a few deshi readers out there. I'm hoping that one of you can direct me to a website or other source that can provide me with a translation of a Rabindranath song...or just make it up yourself :-)

Specifically (please excuse the terrible English spelling of this song - I'm not skilled enough at BanglaWord yet - does Blogger even support Bangla fonts?) "Amar Nishitho Ratero Badolo Dhara"

Here are the words, as far as I can understand them. I can get the general drift of the song but I'd love a good translation. (Again, please excuse the bad English spellings.) And yes, I know my husband is Bengali and should be able to do this for me, but there is an issue with patience. I guess I ask for too much detail.

And I've tried to look each word up in my Bangla-English dictionary, but the last line translates to "Give safety to my eye water" and I know that can't be right. Rabindranath was a much better poet than that. (Maybe it means "Protect me from my tears"???)

Amar nishitho ratero badolo dhara, Esho hey goponey,
Amar shopono loke disha hara
Ogo ondhokarer ontorodhan
Dao theke mor porano mon
Ami chai ney topon, chai ney tara
Jokhon shobai mogon ghumero ghore
Niyo go, niyo go
Amar ghum niyo go, harano kore
Ekla ghore chupey, chupey
Esho keybol surer rupey
Diyo go, diyo go
Amar choker joler diyo shara

Here is my lame attempt: Don't laugh.

My enchanting night of rushing rain
Come to my hiding place
In my universe of dreams I lose my composure
Oh, heart of darkness, from you comes the poet's mind
I don't ask for the sun, I don't ask for the stars
When all are submerged in sleep
Take it, take it, take my sleep, I am lost
Alone and silent in the room
Let the beauty of the light come instantly
Give it, give it
Protect me from my tears

A Blogger Survey

I have been blogging since the summer of 2004, and up till now have not had any experiences with negative comments (other than spam). Imagine my surprise when I opened my email inbox today to find two anonymous comments. They were both in Bangla, and one of them referred to me as a "khanki" (whore). I can just see some 13-year-old rich kid sitting in Dhaka on his computer, laughing at his own wit and ability to string together nasty words.

Anyways, here's my question for all of you bloggers out there. How many of you have had any experiences with negative and unsolicited comments? What did you do about it? Did it seem to be a one-time thing or did they come back to harass you again and again?

Thanks for the input.

Katie "not a khanki" Zaman

Spring Break!

Isaac's school is out for the week, which means that I don't have access to my office. Technically I could go and find a janitor to let me in and around all of the barricades, but I decided to work from home. If you've never done it, working from home seems like a great idea. In reality, it's very hard, especially with a bored six-year-old hanging around. There is a limit to how much TV he can watch in one day.

The solution: I get up REALLY EARLY every morning and work as much as I can until he wakes up. Then I get another coupla hours in the afternoon. I only work part time, so this is enough. But getting up early sucks.

This Thursday I'm taking an Amtrak train for the first time! I was invited to a Fulbright conference in Chicago, which is scheduled for March 23-26. I considered driving down (then I could stop at IKEA on my way back!) but then I realized that parking would be a fiasco (and expensive), and I didn't want to be the only person there with a car, cuz I'd be stuck driving. A friend mentioned the train, and I found out that it only costs $88 round trip. So now instead of a tiring car ride, I'll have a relaxing train ride where I can finish my book and listen to some music.

Speaking of music, have you heard of James Blunt? He sings that song "You're Beautiful" in a freaky-high falsetto voice. I admit that I don't listen to the radio an awful lot, mostly because the best radio station we get here is 94.9 WOLX - oldies. I had heard snippets of the song, though and then he was on Oprah. He sang a song called "Goodbye My Lover" and I loved it. I just downloaded his entire album from iTunes. Isaac makes me play the free "Your Beautiful" video over and over again and he's learning the words. His commentary? "That man has a nice face and a nice voice." I agree.

"I'm sorry, lady. I'm morally opposed to birth control pills."

Down with the patriarchy!

Swiped from TheEmperfect.

New Birthday Tradition

I have thrown big birthday parties for Isaac for the past five years - most notably his third birthday where we had around 250 people in attendance! But this year there was nothing more than a cake. I did get him a present - The Tale of Despereaux by Kate Dicamillo. I thought that since he's been so enthusiastic about reading lately, he'd love another big "chapter book" that we could read together. His response was less than desirable - he said, "Birthday presents are supposed to be toys!"

So, in an effort to recoup the birthday spirit, I said that we are going to have something called a "birthday week". This has turned out to be a great thing! It spreads the parental stress across several days and makes the kid feel like a prince (or princess) all week! Every day he got an extra treat in his lunch, he got to have some friends over to visit after school on a few nights, he got special cake and magic show (thanks to grandma and grandpa) in his classroom, and to end it with a bang, he got a mini-shopping-spree at Toys R Us.

It worked out really well, and I'm going to do it again next year. I'm hoping that I can escape the nightmare of a room full of sugar-poisoned seven-year-olds next year by convincing him to let me spend the money it would take to throw a birthday party on another shopping spree!

Now He Is Six...

I'm feeling really guilty right now. Today is Isaac's birthday and I just yelled at him and made him go to bed.

It started off to be an excellent day. We got to school on time, I managed to haul in my own heavy bags, Isaac's backpack and lunch, and a nice chocolate cake (and paper plates, forks, sprinkles, etc.) for Isaac's class. I went to work and got stuff done. I got through another coalition meeting (one of the most important aspects of my job) without any major snaffoos. I went to Isaac's classroom to help pass out cake. Went back to my office and worked some more on a grant application that I need to submit tomorrow, and realized it needs a lot more work. After school Isaac and I went to visit my grandparents, then went to visit my parents, then rented some movies from the library (preparing for possible snow day tomorrow), then came home.

I somehow managed to make a delicious noodle/asparagus salad and then collapsed in the easy chair.

But was my day over? Nooooooo. I had promised Isaac to help him work on his K'nex Dinosaur Set that his grandma got him for his birthday. It's for ages 8 and up. Isaac is six. That means he jumped around and scattered the tiny pieces while I squinted and hunched over the bad directions. Occasionally he would stand in front of the meager light source in the room. There were frequent requests for status reports, "How much LONGER mom?"

I finally finished it. He looked at it and put it on the shelf. Yay.

Then I got up (slowly, because I was totally hunched over that stupid project for over an hour) and realized the dishes were not done, the food was still on the table, the garbage has not been taken to the curb, the laundry is crumpled in the basket. It was too much. I cracked.

I loudly and angrily said, "Isaac, I can't do anything else for you tonight - go to bed NOW!" And Isaac looked at me with his round baby face that won't be round or babyish for much longer and said, "I love you, mom. Thanks for putting my dinosaur together."

I hope he doesn't remember these random outbursts of anger, and instead recalls how I laboriously put that frickin' dinosaur together for him, even though it was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. It sucks that it's so much easier to remember bad things than good.

Parenting is really really hard.

At Last, A Weekend

Whew, this has been a great weekend! I left all of my work at the office and truly relaxed. Yesterday I cleaned the house and Masud cooked two huge pots of curry for the week. I cut up lots of fruit and planned the week's menu (lots of curry for Masud, lots of vegetarian Mexican food for me). It was very good. And I still have the entire Sunday left!

I did have one disturbing incident. Since last weekend, Isaac's new "knapsack" (as he likes to refer to it) has been missing. While the knapsack itself is very cool, it was the contents that were most important. His gameboy, all of his games, AND his precious Yu-Gi-Oh cards were all inside. These are the MOST IMPORTANT things in Isaac's toy armada. For me, losing something important drives me crazy until I either find it or figure out where it went. I literally tore the house apart looking for it, even in improbable places like the pantry and the office, and then as a last resort cleaned out the cars. Then I called my mom and asked her to look in her house. I called my dad to look at his business. I asked my sister if Isaac had left it in her car. No, no and no.

Last night, just as we were about to go to bed, I had an attack of OCD and decided to look one more time. I pulled everything out of Isaac's closet, went through his drawers, cleaned out his bookshelves, and repeated the process in our bedroom, the office, the pantry, the kitchen, and even the front porch. The entire process took at least an hour. Finally, sadly, I sat down on a chair and told Isaac that it was gone. As I pulled him close for a hug, I realized that the chair I was sitting on was not very comfortable - in fact it was very lumpy! I got up and picked up Masud's sweater (which apparently belongs draped over that chair because it's always there), and there was the rogue knapsack! Thank GOD!

Throughout this process, I came to the humiliating discovery that I am addicted to Isaac's Pokemon video game. It's one of those games where you have to find things, build up an inventory, train your Pokemon, compete in battles, and move through lots of different towns/caves/paths. We played it a LOT in Bangladesh, and I must say we've built up quite the inventory. I was really upset to think that all of that "work" was lost! Last night after we found the knapsack, Isaac and I played for an hour out of sheer relief!

And so begins Isaac's birthday week - he'll be six on Wednesday. Six years ago today I was starting to have contractions - the beginning of three days of labor. Labor sucks.

I'm going to go play Pokemon again.

My Blog Sucks Lately

I feel badly about how crappy my blog has become. In my defense, I am working really hard right now - I'm writing a grant renewal application and doing lots of other things at the same time. Everything has an urgent deadline. I come home from work and I'm so tired I can barely preheat the oven for Isaac's chicken tenders. I hope you all bear with me and don't desert me in this time of blogging mediocrity.

Here's a list of updates:

1) The Bangladeshi Rapid Action battalion (RAB) finally caught Bangla Bhai, the Osama of Bangladesh. This is a major political victory for the Government of Bangladesh. They have been very pressured by the international community to "crack down" on Islamic Fundamentalism and root out the terrorists. I found the circumstances of his arrest questionable (a bomb "went off" in the hut in which he was hiding - nobody is saying whether B.B. was trying to commit suicide or the bomb was thrown by RAB themselves), but I guess it's good to get rid of the bad guys. As long as he doesn't become a martyr and inspire some other godbag freak to start his own little club.

2) Isaac had his first cavity filled today. The dentist prescribed valium that I administered an hour before his appointment, but it didn't really sedate him. I was very surprised that he didn't jump out of the chair when she gave him a shot in the gums. He was more scared of the drill than anything, and bit the dentist several times. All is well now, except that he bit his lip while it was numb and kinda drew blood.

3) Last weekend I was out shoveling snow from our recent snowstorm, and I slipped like an old lady. Of course, I put out my left hand to catch myself - forgetting it was still a tad sore from my surgery. Ouch. I thought I had broken it at first, but after some ice application and a day of Ace-bandage-wearing, I'm relatively pain free. That'll teach me for trying to become physically active. Couch-potatodom is in my future.

4) My sister is performing in the MHS presentation of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" this weekend and I'm really excited. This is her last high school musical performance and it's a little sad to think that next year she'll be in college. They grow up so fast!

5) I kinda-sorta got a raise. I've been working way over my "part-time" hourly requirements, so my boss decided to give me an extra ten hours per week of pay. I'm very happy.

Speaking of which, time for me to get to work.

Less sucky posts to come.

Please don't call social services!

Yesterday I was busy working at home and suddenly Isaac barged into the room and said, "MOM! I'm HUNGRY!"

I turned around and realized that it was 2:00 p.m. and he hadn't had lunch yet.

He said, "You are a terrible mother. You don't feed your child!"

As if the guilt wasn't already strong enough.

Then I realized that Masud was sitting in the living room watching Bengali Natak all day. I don't feel guilty any more. Now if only I can teach Isaac how to resist the patriarchy!

Bangladesh Daily Star: Sex Workers Place 11-Point Demand

Read the story from The Daily Star.

My readers who either know me or have read my blog archives are aware that I was in Bangladesh last year. While I was there, I had the pleasure of meeting the woman in the center of the above picture. She is one of the most incredible people I've ever met.

Sex workers in Bangladesh are despised. They struggle to make enough money to raise their children, while at the same time being denied basic human rights by society. Their children cannot go to school because no man claims them as his child - the law states that "illegitimate" children cannot attend school. (When, at a conference on sex work, a woman stood up to question a public official about this law, he responded, "Why don't you just put a name on the certificate?" She responded, "Who's name should I put? Yours?" He got up and left.)

Sometimes, a woman will bribe a man to say he is her husband. These men usually exploit the woman's disadvantage and take exorbitant sums. The women also must bribe police, and most times the police take their money by force, and even rape them in especially horrific ways.

There are some aid organizations working to help, offering training in things like candle-making, embroidery and other crafts. In reality, it's not possible to make a living off of selling candles, especially when one is used to making thousands of taka per month.

My friend, pictured above, has struggled literally since she was five years old to survive. She has been beaten and raped countless times, and her body bears the scars. She has five children and she raised them herself. She has terrible health problems, which are very expensive to treat, so she does not go to the doctor.

But even after all of this, she still stands up to fight. I'm proud to know her.

I heart Minnesota.

I'm sorry, all my friends who live in Minnesota (and there are lots of you), because I was in Edina on Tuesday and Wednesday and I didn't call you. I'm especially sorry to my two buddies in the cities (Wendy and Nawshin) because I was extra close to you! But I had a hard core training thing and didn't have time to hang out.

This post is dedicated to the lovely State of Minnesota. After visiting for the first time since we moved away in October, I remembered how much I miss it! I drove past Southdale Mall on my way to the training building, and I remembered all those fun trips with Rubeena and Nipa - "Hey, Banana Republic has a sale!" I'm very grateful that I've met many international friends, but it's a big bummer when they graduate and take a job in distant lands. They are not tied down to any particular place here in America - since their "home" is very far away, they barely think twice about moving across the country to take a good job. Wahhhh. I miss you guys!

Minnesota is beautiful, too. The drive over was gorgeous - although I'll admit that most of the drive took place in Wisconsin. But that Mississippi Valley area is breathtaking, even in the dreariness of winter.

I watched the news on Wednesday morning - KARE 11 - and saw Mankato on the weather map. I MISS MANKATO! I miss the weird scultpures by the library, and the purple and yellow crosswalks in honor of the Vikings, and the 100 MPH winds that routinely blow there, and even the early spring poop smell that wafts off the farmers' fields (okay, I don't miss that!)

I guess I better plan a visit.

Ode to Twisty

I love Twisty Faster. Her writing is educational, and at the same time, funny enough to make me giggle out loud almost daily.

Today she posted a great link, where - according to Twisty - "if one is a fart in human shape," they may wish to purchase fake testicles for dangling off the lower back end of their truck.

Yes. She said, "If one is a fart in human shape." We are in the presence of greatness.

Split-ting Head-ache.

I was a substitute teacher today...in the Junior High...in the Special Ed room. It was going to be an easy day. All I needed to do was follow students from room to room throughout the day, help them out if they needed, and possibly keep them in line when they got squirrelly. But the plan went awry, my friends, when it came to be known that 4 of the six regular teachers were at a conference, meaning that in most cases we were two subs with a room full of tricky, conniving and hormonally charged youth. God help me.

Finally, in 8th hour (the last hour of the day for those who don't know), I got to be in a room with a regular teacher instead of a sub. The same students, that had just four minutes ago tried to out-yell one another while we struggled to get them to do their science projects, were completely docile, sitting nicely in their desks, paying attention, and doing what they were told. It was as if I had stepped into the Twilight Zone.

I can still remember the moment when I realized that there was only one wonderful sound (the teacher's voice) in my ears, instead of a clamor of teenage shrieks and hollers. I actually felt my scalp relax.

It has always irked me (in a purely theoretical and perhaps elitist way) how we demand so much from our teachers and yet pay them so little. Today I came away with concrete experience, and I'm very far beyond "irked". I think it's absolutely criminal that these people don't get over 60k a year - STARTING - because this job is way harder than the 30k-a-year salary that most teachers get (lower for starting wages, esp. in rural areas like this.) I was paid $97 (gross) for my work today, and I am feeling very used. GAWD. This was worse than my stint in the elementary a few weeks back, when I subbed for the gym teacher.

Maybe with experience and training, this gets easier. Probably it does. But I still think we're screwing our teachers by underpaying them. It's not fair to them, or to our kids.

End rant.

How old does one have to be to remember this?

I remember this theme song, but I can't remember what the show was about...


And I LOVE this Sesame Street clip (it WAS Sesame Street, right?) - but the one I remember was a little different. This one has a Yellow Submarine and a Beatle head in it...does anyone know if this is the original or a remix?

Monday Comic Relief

Mondays Suck. Here's something that will make you laugh and feel better.

(Courtesy of Bitch PhD.)

Quote of the day.

My mom is known for mixing up common sayings. One of her most famous mix-ups is, "You can't make a dead horse drink."

Today we were talking about how somebody had been a tad dishonest with her, and she said, "Wow, he really played me for a loop!"

I love you, mom.

By the way, why aren't you lame-os doing my Johari Window?

And some of you have not placed your pin in the map that is located on my sidebar yet. C'mon, what do you think I have this blog for, my own entertainment? Jeez.

Snow Day

Man I've been busy this week. Thanks to Old Man Winter for dumping wet, heavy snow on us in the night, because we finally got a snow day! I'm not looking forward to shovelling, but it's better than spending time in my "office" (actually a room full of servers and other junk with my little desk pushed in a corner and there is no phone and I still have to use my personal computer because mine has not been ordered yet, and I can't even print, and have intermittent email access...are you sensing a theme here?). I've learned that having a part-time salaried job is very sucky, especially in the non-profit realm, because it means there is a shortage of resources anyway and I'm having to work until the job is done so I'm not staying within 20 hours a week. I've spent hours and hours begging, scrounging, and even stealing things I need to do my friggin' job. Sigh. End of rant.

This day off is so wonderful.

To kill time, I have created a "Johari Window", and I can't really explain what it is (cuz I'm not really sure), so please go to the link and follow the instructions.

The piggy bank is dead.

I just walked into the living room and saw this:




Explanation: Isaac's dollar got stuck in the pig's head. He's trying to get it out. Am I raising a serial killer?

Bits and Pieces

My dad is a Republican. I'm working on him, though. I really think he's an un-enlightened Democrat...all he needs is some gentle prodding from me and he'll figure it out.

So we were talking about politics this weekend, and usually our political discussions devolve into a volley of low blows and sarcastic exaggerations within minutes of having been started. Here is how the conversation ended...

Me: Republicans are just not as close to nirvana as Democrats are.
Dad: One thing is for sure, you are really getting on MY nirvana!


In other news, I had a nice day yesterday. I finally mopped the kitchen floor - something that I've been wanting to do for a few weeks now. You have to understand that this is a monumental task for me. It requires moving furniture, pulling up rugs, and mopping at least twice with two buckets of clean soapy water. This is not only due to the fact that I have an irrational germ phobia, but also because this floor has a coating of grease on it from years of not being mopped. I'm working down to the real linoleum. And the fact that I felt this was a blog-worthy topic should be a testament to how important mopping is to me, and also how severe my OCD is!

To wrap this post up, here are some funny Isaac-isms for your daily comic relief:

Instead of flushing the toilet, Isaac "reloads the toilet."

Yesterday Isaac pointed out the playground bully and "his assistants" when we saw them at school.

Thursday at school, Isaac hit one of his friends. His excuse? "My brain made me do it!"

Isaac is building an Egyptian sarcophagus with his grandma on the weekends. It's about 2 feet long and quite elaborate. He has been thinking about what to put inside...one day as he was leaving grandma's house, he looked up excitedly and said, "How about the cat? We could mummify the cat! It would fit just right!"

I love this age.

And now for something completely different...

Here is a list of things that gross me out.

1. Public restrooms, especially when people forget to flush. Wow, people, how can you forget to do that? Especially when there is a great turd lying in the bowl? I avoid public restrooms whenever possible. Isaac has inherited this habit, and refuses to poop anywhere but in our own home bathroom. He's a very normal child.

2. Eggs, and people who eat them. Don't get me wrong - I understand that eggs are an essential ingredient to delicacies like cake, cookies and other confections. What grosses me out is when people crack an egg and fry/scramble/poach it and then eat it just like that. The smell alone is enough to make me gag.

3. Meat is very gross. Especially meat that is still attached to a bone. It's a piece of dead animal people! Hamburger is ground up muscle, fat and connective tissue! Bleck!

4. Why do people use their tongues to moisten the adhesive on envelopes or stamps? Convenience? Chances are I will have to touch that with my finger while I am opening it. I don't want your slobber all over my finger! Use a sponge, a wet napkin, anything but your tongue.

5. Speaking of slobber - what is with those people who allow their dogs to lick their faces? Would you allow me to come up and lick your face in greeting? Gross! I had a friend whose dog used to eat cow pies and then my friend would allow this dog to lick her face. Oh, the horror.

Community Theater

I've posted previously about my dad and sister's involvement in the community theater. They performed this weekend. The play was "Moon Over Buffalo" - a PG-13 comedy that was full of swear words and physical comedy. If you would have told me ten years ago that MY DAD would say "Dammit" and "Shit" in a public setting, and walk around on a stage in his boxer shorts (the man does not even wear shorts in the summer - he's that much of a prude!), and KISS a woman who was NOT his WIFE...well I probably would have fainted. But he was really good, and I'm not just saying that because he's my dad! I admit that I am biased, but the audience agreed that he was great!

My grandpa is usually in bed by 4:00 p.m., but he managed to stay up until 10:00 that night! I happened to glance over at my grandparents when my dad was prancing around in his boxers, and I just wish I could have taken a picture. The look on my grandpa's face was hilarious - a mixture of laughter and amazement!

I couldn't take pictures during the performance of course, but I managed to get a few bad shots of the curtain call. My sister Page is so beautiful, and she was very good in this play. I'm jealous...both of her good looks/acting talent and the fun she must have had with our dad!


I really want to audition for the summer play but I feel very over-extended already. If only there were more hours in the day!

How the DMV saved my marriage.

Let's face it, we all work hard. And after a hard day's work, all you really want to do is go home, scarf down some carbs, watch American Idol and then pass out. Spending quality time with our spouses just isn't something that happens on a weekday.

That's where the DMV comes in. Today I picked Masud up from work and we drove to the Department of Motor Vehicles so that we could finally get our new WI drivers licenses. We could have done this in Portage (where Masud works), but we also needed to register our Honda, and they don't do titles in the Portage office.

That's okay, we got to have a nice lunch at Ella's Deli. (I had an avocado-cream cheese-alfalfa sprout sandwich...mmmm...and a hot fudge sundae on toasted pound cake....mmmm...)

Then we drove over to the DMV, fully expecting to get in, get out, and get back in time to pick up Isaac. WRONG. There were over 100 people in line ahead of us. Sigh.

This is the miracle of the DMV. With all of that waiting time on our hands, we were able to have some serious spousal quality time! We discussed finances, our future, Isaac's education, our summer vacation plans, and still had time left over to tell funny stories and make each other laugh! (Although I did have to call my mom to pick Isaac up from school because we were still in line at 2:15.) By the time we went to get our new DL pictures taken, we were laughing so hard that the picture taker guy had to get stern with us.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop fooling around, there is a line, you know!"

Thanks to the DMV, we'll make it to our 9th anniversary! That's not saying much, I guess, since it's only 17 days away...

Ode to Tanya

Tanya is the best, and here are ten reasons why.

1) She is a vegetarian.
2) She is dedicating her life to international development and activism.
3) She is very good at explaining complex concepts using excellent examples that are very relevant. (She'd make a great teacher!)
4) She has a mean chandrabindu. (Say it dude! "Chand-e Panch Kanthal Khabo" I will eat five jackfruits on the roof!)
5) She has the Bengali gift for hospitality. Example - when we were in India, we organized an impromptu party in our hotel lounge. Not only did she convince the entire wait staff to keep the lounge open for HOURS past closing time, she also bought like 15 huge bottles of beer to get things rolling. AND she somehow got several people to sing, and an elderly man to shake his booty. It was one of the most fun parties I've ever attended!
6) She is SO GOOD at impersonating people. The accuracy makes it hilarious without being mean!
7) She is obsessed with the Lord of the Rings, and she's not ashamed to say it!
8) I think I caught feminism from her. At the very least, being around her fanned the flames of my patriarchy-blaming.
9) She is extremely humble about her radness, which makes it all the more rad.
10) The girl can SING! AND play the guitar.

And, most importantly (I couldn't keep it at ten!)...

11) She is a very sincere friend - one that I am very lucky to have in my life!

*Sniffle

Here's to you, girl. Now stop procrastinating and get some work done!

Everybody! Place your pin!

I just added a nifty little "guest map" on the sidebar. Take a minute to stick your pin in it!

Can this be true?

Is this real? Because, if it is true, why haven't I heard this on the news? And if it isn't true, it's a very cruel rumor.

Katie + Drugs = Witty as Hell

(Yes, I realize that the above title is not appropriate for someone who is the substance abuse prevention coordinator, but get over it!)

So today I had to go to the doctor and show him my wrist wounds. When he walked into the room, he kindof glanced sideways at me and snickered. Odd, I thought. I had been a little worried ever since the surgery because I was not completely knocked out - just under sedation - and I knew I had been talking through the entire procedure, but I can't remember any of it for the life of me! So his sideways glance unnerved me a little!

Then he said, "Well, Katie, I gotta say, that was one of the most entertaining surgeries I've done in a long time!" Oh, man, I must have revealed some secrets or something.

I tentatively asked, "Really? I don't remember any of it! What did we talk about?"

His one word answer made my stomach drop out of my gut. "Politics."

Now, let me just paint a picture for you. This doctor is a manly man. His office walls are covered with dead animals and fish. He went to Africa on a hunting safari. He brought back a stuffed wild boar. Not that I'm one to assume things, but I think I am pretty safe in saying that he's a gun-toter. He's also probably a member of the NRA. And isn't it a pre-requisite of NRA membership that you be a registered Republican?

So I asked him to tell me about our conversation. He was really cracking up! He said that after he took out the tumor on my arm, he was explaining to me that it was a "fatty cyst", nothing to worry about. "In fact," he said, "these are very common. Most Democrats have them in their brains."

To which I replied, oh so smartly, "Well, that's okay. At least Democrats HAVE brains!"

I do remember laughing really hard on the table, and looking around at the doctor and the anesthesiologist as they cracked up. I'm glad they have a sense of humor!

I thank God above that he did not decide to "accidentally" cut my hand off!

My sister...

...is demented.

Click here for proof.

the power of pain

since i'm one-handed, there will be no capitalization for a while. my surgery went well - i was actually awake the whole time, but i dont remember much. the worst part was the iv! it's a little sore now, but definitely worth the attention i'm getting from my fam.

in lieu of a post, here are some digital doodles...

Thank God for Thursday.

I'm likin' the comment action, people! I should have invasive medical procedures done more often!

This was a big week, work-wise. I had a long and detailed meeting with my supervisor (which went well), managed to hire someone who will be working under me (how do you say that without sounding like a power trippin' elitist?), personally called the candidates that were not chosen for the job and told them "best of luck" (it was hard), and today I headed up my first big meeting. All in all I think I did pretty good! I really like this job, now that I'm getting the hang of things.

Tomorrow I have to write a mini report (due Friday) for a grant that I just found out about on Monday. That's a little hairy but I've got help so it should be okay.

Tonight Isaac and I made cupcakes in celebration of my success at work. Any excuse for cupcakes is fine with me. He is learning stuff like how to measure 1 1/2 cups of water, how to crack eggs without getting the shell in, and why we have to preheat the oven before we put the cake in. He's also learning that true joy is a warm cupcake with lots of frosting melting down the side. I hope he got his father's metabolism, cuz man I'm setting him up for obesity.

I may need to post photoblogs for the next week or so, because I'm not supposed to type for a week. Like that will happen! Maybe I can get creative.

Thanks to everyone for all of your good vibes! I'll be fine, I'm sure. I've got a nice full bottle of narcotics.

Katie, Katie, Deformed Lady

If you know my husband at all, you probably know that he is very blunt. He will call a spade a spade. He will also call a fat spade a fat spade. He has no concern for certain cultural expectations, especially in the US, that make comments on another person's body shape, size or other attributes taboo. For the first four years of our marriage, I would get really offended when he would comment on the largeness of my belly roll. I tried very hard to explain to him that it "hurt my feelings" (a concept that does not translate well) when he said that. In his point of view, he was telling the truth, so why should he sugar coat it? In my opinion, why does it need to be brought up at all?

I finally got some enlightenment on this issue while in Bangladesh. My nieces were commenting on my "fatty" nature, and I said I felt sad when they called me fatty. They asked why it made me sad. I said, "Well, wouldn't you feel sad if someone said you were ugly?" and they said, "Yes, but calling you fat has nothing to do with how pretty or ugly you are." We then had a conversation about how a person is always pretty or ugly no matter how skinny or fat they get. They even said that fat people are more attractive, nice and soft and round. Ahhh, this is a concept I could latch on to!

Anyways, back to the original point of my post...
Masud has always called me "deformed". He has several points.

1) When I was young, I had a tumor the size of a golf ball on my index finger. It was gross. I had it removed in a painful surgery involving replacing missing bone in my finger with bone marrow from my pelvis when I was eleven. Yowch.
2) In the pictures of me as a young girl, the first thing a viewer will notice is my HUGE front teeth, protruding from my face like a lighthouse beacon. Thanks Gramma for paying for my braces.
3) Speaking of teeth, I have these hereditary white calcium deposits on them, which makes it look like my teeth are really yellow in comparison. The only way to get rid of them is to get expensive veneers, so I choose to say that they give my smile "personality".
4) My fingernails and toenails are tiny, oddly shaped, and paper thin. They never grow past my fingertips without tearing in an excruciating accidental brush with anything harder than a marshmallow.
5) My ears stick out. This is combined with the unfortunate physical reaction I have to nervousness, tiredness, and alcohol - they turn purple.
6) I have this "swirl" of hair at the base of my neck, so that when my hair is cut short, my hairline looks like a mullet gone awry.
7) And speaking of hair, I have more body hair than Masud does. Ahem.
8) I have these gross lumps all over my body. My mom and brother have them, too. Some of them are just "fatty cysts", but I have some special ones called "ganglion" cysts on my wrist (see picture). They have roots, and one of them is rooted in my wrist joint, causing considerable pain. The other one is wound around an artery, causing occasional numbness.

Soooo, this Friday I am going to have them whacked off in an outpatient procedure. I'll be sleeping as much as possible, and waiting very, very long before I get the bandages removed, so there will be no dish washing for me. Yay, ganglion cysts!

I guess a little deformity pays off now and then. (Feminist side note: It's really shitty that in order to get a vaycay from doing dishes I have to undergo surgery.)

Where have I been?

Yikes, it's almost been a week since I posted. I guess I'm finally settling in to my new schedule. I generally like working, gives me something to think about besides myself, but I really miss my extra time. I've got to figure out how to get some of that back. I have not read Amy Tan for a week. A week! The protagonists are stranded at some hotel in Burma, about to be attacked by terrible dysentery, and I left them hanging there.

One of Masud's old buddies came to visit this weekend. He's a smarty - did his MS and PhD at Cornell in something called Biometrics (think hard hard math) and then got a Royal Family Research Fellowship to research at Oxford. He came from the UK to attend a conference in South Dakota, and then flew over to WI to spend the weekend with us. He is one smart dude, but he was really good with Isaac - they got out Isaac's microscope and looked at gross stuff on slides. He showed Isaac how to focus and stuff. Neato.

Nothing much else is new. And I've got to get some work done. So that's all you get for now.

Am I a pedophile?

Daniel Radcliffe is hot. Lookin' forward to the next Harry Potter movie.

Isaac Sez:

Last night, when we were falling asleep - Isaac sandwiched between us - I asked Isaac if he thought any of his buddies slept with their mom and dad. He said, "Probalby not."

"Why do you like to sleep with us?"

"Because, I'm loadin' up!"

"What are you loading up on?"

"Energy and love, for my day tomorrow."

"How do you do that?"

He wriggles in and give me a hug, "Just like that."

The truth is, I feel the same way! And that's why he still sleeps with us.

I hope God smites Pat Robertson.

Pat Robertson embodies all that I hate about organized religion.

Look what he said this time.

Torrid

Today I was in my new favorite store, Torrid, which is one of the few fatty stores I've been in that has tolerable fashions. As I was checking out, I mentioned to the clerk that I love the definition of the word torrid. She said, "It means hot." And I said, "No, I believe it means intense emotion." She replied, "I looked it up in the Webster's dictionary. It means HOT." Well, Google and I beg to differ.

Web definitions for torrid
ardent: characterized by intense emotion; "ardent love"; "an ardent lover"; "a burning enthusiasm"; "a fervent desire to change society"; "a fervent admirer"; "fiery oratory"; "an impassioned appeal"; "a torrid love affair"

I am vindicated through this cyber-version of "I told you so."

So there.

Gratuitous Picture of Me in Bangladesh.

Really Deep Thoughts

1. It's Korbani Eid time again - this is the holiday that cows and goats dread - a virtual bloodbath of sacrifices. Last January I spent Korbani Eid in the village. I can't believe it's only been a year!! But the memories live on. Who could forget that dude walking around with four cow legs casually flung over his shoulder? Or the basket of cow skin? Yes, a basket of skin.

2. I'm listening to Barbara Ehrenreich's book "Nickel and Dimed" on CD. Ever since I was a waitress, I've felt that everyone that eats in restaurants should be required to wait tables for one week. Now I have changed my mind, everyone should just be required to read this book. She talks about what it's like to try to live on minimum wage, and the indignities that people who work these jobs must tolerate. Next time you eat out, please give your server a nice big tip. They deserve it even if they forgot your second Diet Coke.

3. This week I had a grand total of four doctor's visits. Advice: Don't let your health problems pile up - it's easier to take care of them as they come along.

4. The snow has completely melted. It's January. What the hell?

5. I found a cool online comic.

Things that make you go...Oh My God!

Today while I was playing a game of "match the numbers to the dots" in Isaac's classroom, two of his classmates were talking about what they want to be when they grow up. One boy proudly told me, "I wanna be in the Army like my Dad so I can kill people!"

I said, "Being in the Army is a great goal, but you don't really want to kill people, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Then he made machine gun noises and pretended to shoot his classmates.

His buddy said, "I already have three guns! I practice shooting at the targets with my dad!" (May I remind you that these are 5-year-old kindergarteners.)

I realize that I have chosen to move back to Marquette County, the self-proclaimed Hunters' Paradise, where deer cause an average of one vehicle accident per day and must be exterminated. While I have not quite made up my mind exactly how hunting fits in with the entire gun control scenario, I am definitely sure that when a five-year-old is talking about killing people, and another has already had the opportunity to shoot a gun, there is something amiss. I had a heated discussion with one of my requisite Republican friends over lunch today about guns and the military and "how we used guns to get rid of Hitler". Maybe guns have their place! But that place is not in the hands of a five-year-old.

I had been freaking out about Isaac's fondness for the toy squirt gun (which is not actually a "gun" because it's shaped like a dolphin, which is why it didn't go in the garbage immediately) that came with his Subway sandwich. He carries that thing around in his pocket, whips it out and uses both hands to aim expertly at the monsters and makes gun-blast noises as he jerks his hands as if he's firing bullets. The problem with forbidding gun-toys is that when anything remotely resembling a gun turns up, it is absolutely irresistible. Suddenly, Legos are expertly fashioned into an "L" shape and held like a pistol. And toy guns are everywhere - he got a "foam disc shooter" in the Christmas exchange at school! What kind of mean mom would take that away from their overjoyed kid?

Now that I see the extent to which guns and killing with guns are discussed in his classroom, I'm rather proud that I've been able to explain to him that guns are dangerous, they were designed as a tool to kill living things - both animals and people - and they are not to be played with. He understands this, and when he plays, he knows he can only shoot the imaginary monsters. He's not even allowed to pretend that he's shooting people. We've talked about the fact that even "bad guys" have mommies and daddies who would be sad if they died, and that's why we have jails to lock them up instead of killing them.

But Jeez, it makes me want to move to a desert island and poke my head in the sand.

My Blog Mission and Reader Inventory

I realize that by nature, blogging is an exhibitionist pastime. Ever since I came back from Bangladesh in June, the purpose of my own blog has changed significantly. It's gone from a means of information and updates for my family and friends to a chronicle of my daily life in boring, small town America. I've often struggled with the idea of anonymity. Most of the great blogs that I read are veiled in secrecy. They refer to their loved ones with clever psuedonyms and do not reveal their own last names or places of work. This ads a sense of mystique to their writing, and makes me want to read more. Sometimes I feel like starting over with a completely new identity. I would then be free to reveal my very personal stories, which would probably make for a better read. I've got scandals, people. Traumas. Agonies. And ecstacies. Wouldn't you love to hear? Alas, they are relegated to my personal journal.

I guess the reason I choose to continue with this blog is because I know that I am absolutely terrible at keeping in touch with people. Given the way that our family tends to move around (God help me), it is an unfortunate character flaw. This blog is a way for my dear friends to know that I'm still alive, I have a life and a brain, and I am conciously updating them on my activities because I do want to keep a relationship going.

I know of my readers, I think, although from the looks of my hi-fi hit counter, I must have some regular readers who are hiding from me. I understand, as a blog lurker myself, that it feels weird to comment on the personal blog of a person that you do not know in real life, but it's also very, very creepy to eavesdrop and not comment once in a while. I have started commenting on the blogs I read secretly, so I request that if you are a regular reader, drop me a little "hello" once in a while!

So all of you creepy lurkers, post a comment! Tell me about yourself. And I promise not to call you creepy ever again!

Self-Psychoanalysis {Via Rock 'n' Roll}

Thanks to Page, who's rad musical taste I mentioned in a previous post, I have discovered the great band System of a Down.

Today, as I was reading about the band on their website, I found a section in which the band members underwent psychological evaluations. (The results for each member are published under the "members" section of the website.) One sentence regarding singer Serj Tankian in particular stood out...

Subject freely drops political jargon ("cooperate Darwinism," "Chomsky-esque") and expresses clear skepticism regarding modes and means of information dissemination, "We see the same thing on every channel," he says. "It's all very devised. It's very filtered.? Well-versed on pressing issues, he's neither apathist nor activist but instead one fascinated by the nature and conclusions of international transactions, policies and ideologies. Awareness and keen knowledge of national or global cause and effect traditionally signifies: a.) sub-conscious desire to avoid examination of the self b.) phobias regarding species extinction c.) revolutionary aspirations (imagined or real) and/or d.) imminent career as college professor.

Now I will be forced to discern to which of these categories I belong. I do have phobic tendencies...hmmm...species extinction?