Unconventional Animal Favorites

I was talking to a friend on IM who pointed out that I seemed to have unconventional tastes when it came to favorite animals. I thought about it, and he was quite right! Most people like "normal" animals like dogs, cats, and horses. Maybe even farm animals like pigs or cows, or magnificent beasts like lions, tigers and bears. Then there's me.

My current favorite? Well, if you haven't guessed from my phone's background, my computer's wallpaper, and my frequent photos of the stuffed version, it's tarantulas! In particular, Brachypelma Smithi (a.k.a. the Mexican red-knee tarantula):

Next comes an animal that I think most people will agree is cute, but will keep their distance from. None other than the striped skunk! Look at those baby faces. Who could resist!?

And then there are the animals whose welfare represent my love of all of God's living creatures as well as his earth: sea turtles!

Before that, my loves consisted of frogs and killer whales (the latter mostly because I loved going to Sea World and seeing Shamu).

Why such out-of-the-ordinary creatures?

I fell in love with each of these animals because I had a stuffed version of them that was utterly adorable. Made me interested in learning more about the real-life version of my (current) favorite stuffed animal. And that's how I learned about the plight of endangered sea turtles, that skunks are really tame and make great pets (stink aside, of course), and that most desert tarantulas are docile, peaceful creatures and sit at the top of their buggy food chain.

I wonder why falling in love with a particular stuffed animal makes me fall in love with the real-life version of it. One friend postulates that because I spend so much time with them, they seem larger than life. She knows how to appreciate a good stuffed animal, as well :-)

At any rate, these are my animal favorites. What are your favorite animals?

Food Wars

What do sweet potato fries, calamari, escargots and vodka cranberries have in common? Aside from sounding like a really delightful (and totally fatty and unhealthful!) dinner, they comprise my favorite appetizers. Well, the food ones, anyway. You don't find them everywhere, so whenever I encounter an establishment that offers them on the menu, I find that I MUST try them, and see how they are.

I don't really know how this all began. Maybe it began the first time I ever tried calamari or sweet potato fries, and found them so delicious, I had to have them again whenever they were available. Somehow, that evolved into a competition of sorts-- I wanted to these appetizers at every place that served them, to get a taste of how different places prepared the same dish, and which one had the best ones.

The winners?

For calamari, it would be BJ's Restaurant and Brewhouse. Most places will only serve you the round rings from the squid's body. BJ's is the only place I've found (so far) that serves the rings AND the tentacles. Not only is it less wasteful by making use of the WHOLE squid, but I find the tentacles far more delectable than the body. They also cook it just right-- not too tough and chewy from overcooking. And finally, the breading is just right-- not only is the amount just right but the flavor is terrific. I don't use any of the sauces they provide. Just a squeeze of lemon is enough to round out this dish at BJ's :-9

For sweet potato fries, it's a tossup between Le Cafe Stella and Root 217, a new eatery on campus. To me, the perfect fry, whether sweet or regular potato, is one that is lightly crispy on the outside, and soft and melt-in-your-mouth on the inside. The first time I ever went to Stella's Cafe was during a work lunch, and the sweet tater fries were so delightful that I dragged Allan there for Happy Hour later that same day. To my disappointment, the evening fries weren't nearly as good as the noon fries. Yesterday, I had a chance to try the fries at Root 217, and wow, they really fit the bill in terms of what I enjoy in a perfect fry. A good sweet potato fry needs very little in the way of ketchup or other condiments, to perfect the taste.

Finally, escargots. First time I ever tried them was in a restaurant in Paris, 11 years ago. Of course, nothing can beat authentic escargots cooked in what is not only the food capital of the world, but the dish's native country! It was my first time trying them, and I was pleasantly surprised. The snail was soft and tender and drenched in the most savory garlic butter sauce. Recently, we've tried the escargots at both Pacific Crepes and Stella Mare's, and while both were delicious, none could compare to the "real thing" from Paris.

And what of the vodka cranberries? Well, a couple years ago I'd taken a liking to the drink, and decided to make a point of ordering it everywhere we went, so I could compare and contrast. The winner? Why, the bars in Vegas, of course! ;-)

How about you? What are your favorite things you like to repeatedly order?

Election Day Memories

This year's election is probably one of the most buzzed about that I can remember. I probably don't even need to tune into any news websites or channels tonight, to find out the results. I just need to monitor my Facebook feed, I have enough friends on both sides of the issues that I'm sure I'll be hearing (reading?) plenty, one way or another. Right now, though, most of the statuses are about having voted and encouraging everyone else to go out and vote.

One friend's status made mention of the fact that she'd mailed in her ballot, and felt a bit wistful afterward, since she missed the feeling of physically going into a polling station. It made me hearken back to my own voting experiences, and that's when I realized that I really only had one physical one.

I remember the election-- it was 1996, and I was finally old enough to vote. I went down to our local elementary school's auditorium with my parents, and cast my vote for Clinton. That was the last time I visited a physical polling spot.

In 2000, I was stationed in Germany with the Army, and had to vote by mail. In 2004, and 2008, I was living in Santa Barbara, but was still registered to vote in LA. I didn't want to change any official addresses until I had settled down somewhat. That turned out to be a good thing, because in the 11 years I've been in SB, I've moved a total of EIGHT times!

I actually grew to like voting by mail. I could fill out the ballot carefully and at my leisure, and get it done with whenever I wanted to. I liked not having to worry about making time to visit a polling location, and I liked being able to get it done early.

Then last year, after we bought a house, I finally changed the address on my vehicle registration. What I didn't realize was that this act disenrolled me from LA voter registration records. So when, last month, I tried to apply for an absentee ballot from LA county, nothing came through. Fortunately, I figured it out in time to register here in SB.

A few days later, I received an absentee ballot in the mail. I was (pleasantly) surprised, as I didn't realize that was an option. I was expecting a voter registration card that I could take to my local polling place on election day. Well, whatever-- a ballot's a ballot. I filled it out and mailed it off-- and wouldn't you know it, the very next day after I mailed my ballot, I received the voter registration card!

I think I still prefer voting by mail. It's so convenient, and I really like being able to get ahead of the curve and do my civic duty early on.

I do, however, miss getting that little "I Voted" sticker. I know, it's such a small, insignificant thing, but in a heated climate like this year's election, where the imperative to vote is even stronger than ever... I kinda wish I was wearing one right now.

Ah well, I guess an image on my blog will have to do :-)

What's in a Name? Part 3

When you have a pretty unique first AND last name, like I do, you're bound to get tons of misspellings, mispronunciations, and odd nicknames. I talked about some of the more common mistakes in a previous blog post: http://heckledtrio.blogspot.com/2008/02/whats-in-name.html

And while I've come to take the inevitable misspellings and mispronunciations in stride (hey-- what can you do? People don't do well with the unfamiliar!), there is one mistake that irritates me more than any other. And that's when people assume that my last name is the same as my husband's. Although it IS pretty funny when people directly address a 6'8" tall, obviously white guy as "Mr. Kwee" ;-)

While I acknowledge that the majority of married women in American society today still adopt their husband's last name upon marriage, it's quite obviously a growing trend for women not to, especially in areas where women are still in the minority, such as academia or the tech/engineering industry. And I've noticed that businesses that deal with a large variety of the population tend to not make that assumption: they usually ask me if I have the same name as Allan, when I'm giving out both of names (e.g. at the doctor's office).

I've never understood this remnant of a patriarchal society. In many cultures, the notion of adopting a spouse's name is unheard of. And yet we're supposed to be the progressive society? My boss is quite adamant against the practice; as she puts it: you lose part of your own identity when you take your spouse's name. And you're always tied to them in some manner. Plus, if you get divorced (which, hey-- there's a 50% chance of that happening in this society!) you either have to undergo the hassle of changing it again, or remain stuck with the name of your ex.

I'll admit that when I was making the decision about whether or not to change my name, I didn't think of it in quite the terms of social progress. I was merely thinking of convenience-- it's a headache to have to make all those changes and get brand new IDs and whatnot! Also, at the time I was considering going into academia, where it's already hard enough to get ahead as a woman, especially in an engineering field. Why make it that much harder by publishing under one name, and then later on, publishing under another?

But hey-- to each her own, and it is as much one woman's prerogative to change her name as it is my right to keep mine. And I did acknowledge that it is still more common for American women to take their husband's names, than for them to keep their maiden names. So calling me "Knight" is actually a fair assumption for most people to make. And I don't really get offended when they do.

However.

What I take issue with is when I politely *correct* said assumptions, and people STILL insist on using the wrong name.

The biggest culprit? Our son's school. It's pretty conservative. I've noticed that, in subtle ways, they really don't treat women as equals to men. They assume that the moms don't work during the day. When talking to both parents, they make more eye contact with the husband than with the wife. And let's not get started on the "wrong name" deal. Despite filling out forms, signing documents, and using an email address all containing my correct name, I still come out as "Helly Knight" or "Mrs. Knight", or worse yet,  "Mr. and Mrs. Allan Knight" in correspondence, sign-up rosters, and plain old being addressed, even in person.

It's all very reminiscent of the blatantly sexist treatment I got at the hands of a real estate agent when I visited an open house with a male friend of mine: http://heckledtrio.blogspot.com/2010/07/shopping-and-sexism.html

It amazes me that an organization consisting of mostly women (teachers and office staff) would take part in such patriarchal, sexist behavior. At the same time, it's also a conservative Christian organization, so I guess that shouldn't surprise me much. But you wouldn't continue misspelling/mispronouncing someone's name after they've corrected you, right? So why insist on calling me by my husband's name when I've clearly corrected you? I find that downright disrespectful!

Un bon repas au Stella Mare's

One of my favorite Pixar movies is "Ratatouille". Just as I love reading about a good meal, I enjoy a good film about good food, and that movie really had me hankering for some French cuisine.

I remember trying escargot the first time I ever dined in Paris, but beyond that, don't really recall much of the food, mostly because I was more interested in touring the sights than savoring the food, at the time.

I've always wanted to try a nice French restaurant here in Santa Barbara, but the few here were pretty expensive. But since we've been dropping a good C-note on fare at our favorite German restaurant, Brummi's, for our anniversary the last couple of years, we decided that this year's anniversary was a good excuse to splurge on some fine French food.

So, tonight, I took advantage of the last of the unseasonably warm weather, dressed up in one of my new dresses, and trooped out with the boys to Stella Mare's in Montecito.

(photo taken with our DSLR camera)

When we got there, we were a bit skeptical of the location, given that it was right next to the freeway and railroad tracks. But once we stepped inside, we were taken by the charm of this 150-year old renovated house. We chose seats in the large greenhouse/sunroom attached to the house. When our server asked if we were here for any special occasion, we informed her it was for our anniversary, and she immediately brought out complimentary glasses of champagne. A toast!

(photo taken with HTC One S)

Dinner was fabulous! We got there in time for happy hour, which allowed us to indulge in some cocktails (Allan had a Cosmopolitan while I tried a Lemon Drop-- both delicious!) and multiple appetizers: frog legs and escargot. I'd never tried frog legs before (I had a chance to in Indonesia, but after seeing how they treated their animals, I just couldn't stomach it), and decided that people were right-- it tasted like chicken. Dry chicken, mind you, but the tomato/garlic dressing made up for it. The snails with parsley butter were as delightful as I remembered in Paris, if a bit on the plainer side.

After dinner, we ordered dessert, but before ours arrived, we were treated to a complimentary dessert in honor of our anniversary: flourless chocolate torte. Normally I'm very wary of anything "flourless", but this was delicious!

(photo taken with Samsung Galaxy Relay)

The desserts were equally delightful-- chocolate-filled profiteroles, a chocolate cake filled with chocolate mousse, and an assortment of 4 chocolates. Can you say family of chocaholics? Hey, when it comes to European fine chocolates, one MUST partake!

Yes, we came home very sated. And glad that we finally got a chance to try out a great French restaurant with delicious food and superb service. A bit too pricey to go very often, but for special occasions? Tonight was a real treat!

Things You Do When You've Been Married Too Long

Tonight we had a small group of friends over and got a chance to introduce them to the game of "Things".  It's one of those games that can go downhill real fast, and how much fun it is depends on how much in the gutter your friends' minds can go. The deeper the better :-)

Basically, during each round, one person reads off a topic card, for example "Things you shouldn't say to your grandmother", everyone submits an anonymous answer, and then everyone goes around, taking turns trying to guess who answered what. As you can imagine, responses can run the gamut from the very tame to the downright obscene, and hilarity always ensues.

One other phenomenon that occasionally occurs is when more than one person submits the exact same answer. It really brings to mind the old "Great minds think alike... and so do ours!" adage.

Well, tonight proved that when you've been together as long as Allan and I have (and really, 9.5 years isn't really that long, compared to other people!) you start thinking alike.

There were a couple of rounds where we both gave somewhat similar answers. But then! Then came a round towards the end, where the topic was: "Things you've paid too much for".

Our answers? See for yourself:

No... our answers weren't similar. They were downright IDENTICAL.

This really does prove that we've been married too long. Not only did we give the exact same answer, but we both apparently felt that we'd paid some exorbitantly high prices in order to be married to each other ;-)

On Tithing

I thought I'd start this post with a bit of Halloween-related funny, brought to you by Eugene Cho, a pastor in SF whom I follow on Twitter:

Hmm, I wonder who raided her son's bulging, overweight sack of candy before leaving for work this morning... *whistles innocently*  ;-)

Seriously, though, where did this concept of "10%" even come about, in the first place? I'll admit that I have not read through the entire Bible from cover to cover, but I'd be willing to wager that it doesn't dictate an exact figure. We've been attending our church for 4.5 years, and while we give regularly to it, we do not subscribe to any notions of adhering strictly to a man-made percentage.

Now, what I do believe in, regardless of exact figures or rules about net vs. gross income, is in using the income you are blessed to receive, to help others in need. Isn't that the original purpose of tithing?

We have a friend/co-worker who has fairly liberal beliefs, and while most churches are too confining for someone like him, his actions are often more Christian than almost anyone else I know. He applies the true intent of tithing. He does not (necessarily) give to a particular church. He makes micro-loans on Kiva. He donates to clean water projects. His causes focus on the plight of people truly in need, mostly in other, poorer countries, and that's where he tithes. If that is not the spirit of Jesus's command to "love one another", I don't know what is.

I think too often we get caught up in the rules and regulations of religion, and lose sight of what's really, ultimately important: Love God and love one another. And I don't believe that you have to count out 10% of your income, to the penny, and give it all to your church, in order to express that love. Unless, of course, that's what you feel called to do. I believe that that sort of giving should be done in a true spirit of charity and love, and not out of obligation to follow some arbitrary, man-made rules.

Our own pastor summed it up best during a group class once. When the topic of tithing came up, one guy posed exactly the sort of situation my co-worker is already in. He has some favorite causes he would like to donate to. Should he give 10% to the church and then those causes on top of it? Or can those causes count as part of that 10%?

Pastor's reply? "That's between you and God."

Amen!

Halloween Recap

Another year of NaBloPoMo begins! Unlike previous years, I am not starting the month out with a post about our anniversary. After all, there is only so much that can be said about it, right? ;-)

This year I thought I'd start out with a recap of Halloween festivities, and showcase some photos, most of which were taken with our brand new DSLR camera.

First up, the costumes. I recycled my 50's girl costume idea from 2010, but did not reuse many of the same clothing elements. Check my Project 365 blog post here to see what I wore last year.

Contrast that to this year's costume, where I cut a poodle shape out of felt and glued it on to my skirt. And yes, there are real petticoats underneath the skirt!

This year, Todd dressed as an Army soldier. Yes, I know the rank is upside down on both his helmet and his vest. Maybe that's the way it has to be, for a costume?

This year, we did something we've never done before: decorated the house! I bought some window decorations from the local seasonal Halloween store, and Todd drew and cut out additional Halloween-themed pictures. I also strung up lights along our deck railing. The reason I chose to decorate this year was because I wanted to attract more trick-or-treaters. We live in a community whose residents are mostly senior citizens, so there is always a dearth of kids out and about. It's such a treat to get the rare little kid coming to our door. It must have paid off, because I think we doubled the number of kids that came by (and by "doubled" I mean we went from 6 to 12 ;-P)

Here's a shot of the front of our house (excuse the wash-out from the bright porch light)

You'll note a couple of jack-o-lanterns, as well. That's another first this year: carving pumpkins! Todd visited the local pumpkin patch with our church's youth group a few weeks ago, and brought home a couple of pumpkins. He and Daddy immediately set about designing, drawing, and carving their own pumpkins.

Here is Todd, hard at work:

And here are the final results: one pumpkin pi and one happy jack-o-lantern!

 

Doesn't pumpkin pi look really pretty, glowing in the dark?

 

And doesn't Todd's pumpkin look especially friendly? He sat at the door, greeting the trick-or-treaters as they arrived. I think the square nose made him look especially benign and friendly.

What of the festivities?

Well, as I mentioned earlier, Todd took a trip to the pumpkin patch a few weeks ago. The weekend before Halloween, he attended "Boo at the Zoo" at the Santa Barbara Zoo. Here he is, resting in the grass and enjoying some candy:

On Halloween itself, he got to go trick-or-treating with our youth pastor, who, being his usual wacky self, decided to throw a little twist into the event by going door-to-door and singing Christmas carols. Hey-- you can't say they didn't earn their candy! ;-)

As for me, I participated in the campus's staff costume contest, and actually won a runner-up prize for "cutest" category. And our department held our annual mini-pumpkin decorating contest (where the only limitation is that you can only use items/supplies in the office). Here is my royal pumpkin, relaxing regally on his throne:

How was your Halloween?

Karaoke Ring of Death: Boy Bands!

They say that there is strength in numbers. I certainly find this to be true of karaoke. Bringing a friend or two up on stage with you is a great way to break the ice and jump into karaoke without feeling too self-conscious. Whenever I want to do a song I'm not 100% confident about, I try to rope in a friend. Having company on stage emboldens me! Plus it can just be plain FUN. Even if it's a song I would be confident enough to do alone, I can get into wackier antics on stage if I have someone there with me, either leading the way or egging me on. And that's the whole point of karaoke, isn't it-- to just get up and have fun!

So, it is with great pleasure that I get to host one KROD video featuring TWO singers, Kanriah and Tabitha, as they belt out N'Sync's "Tearin' Up My Heart". I think it's just as much fun to watch them play around and have fun with the performance, as it is to listen to them.

To see my video, you can head on over to Tabitha's blog: http://thelizardspockexpansion.blogspot.ca/2012/10/boy-bands-are-back-baby-october-krod.html

And now, enjoy this month's "boy bands" themed video!



And as always, the master list can be found here: http://karaokeringofdeath.wordpress.com/2012/10/31/boy-bands-are-back/

Washing Delicates... With a Salad Spinner!

Although I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a busty girl myself, I enjoy reading Busty Girl Comics, a fun blog which laments the trials and perks of a busty girl. I think reading it really drives home the old adage that the grass is greener on the other side.

One problem that is universal to women, regardless of cup size, is the ability to easily and affordably find good-fitting bras. I think this is especially problematic for women who are at either end of the spectrum-- either really small-chested, or really well-endowed. So when I chance upon the rare bra that is a combination of good fit AND good price, I snatch it up and hold dear to it :-)

But then comes the inevitable time when the bra must be washed. What's the use of a well-fitting bra if it's funky and gross, right? Yuck. However, I had seen what washers can do to the regular bras (i.e. the cheap, basic kind with no underwire, no padding, and no molding) I used to wear before I had Todd, and there was no way I was ruining my new, hard-to-find bras in a similar fashion! There is hand-washing, but how do you wring out something with underwire and padding, without ruining it? Leaving a sopping garment to dry isn't ideal, either, especially when I live in a climate that doesn't normally get hot and dry. If it's gonna take days for something to dry, it's likely gonna be just as funky with mildew in the end. Double yuck.

Enter BGC, and a post where someone suggested using a salad spinner to wash bras. I had never even HEARD of a salad spinner until then, but when I did a bit of research and found that it was simply a centrifuge device, I grew excited.

I found a cheap, basic, hand-cranked model at K-Mart for $15. It's small, and it's not fancy, but it looked like it would get the job done. It came with a clear outer bowl, a spinning strainer, and a lid with a hand crank to spin said strainer.

The first thing I actually washed was not my bra, but an errant school uniform shirt of Todd's that had somehow missed its weekly trip to the washer on laundry day. So I hand-washed it and gave the spinner a test drive with his shirt. Worked pretty well! It was actually kinda fun to see the water spray against the outer container, build up, and then drip toward the bottom. It gave a good visual gauge for how much water was being squeezed out.

Next, I gathered up a couple bras that were long overdue for a washing, and soaked them in warm water and mild baby soap. Washed them gently by hand, and then rinsed the soap out as best as I could. In went sopping wet bras, and after much spinning, out came damp-but-not-soaking-wet garments! I hung them up and they were dry by the next day.

I was thrilled to see that such a simple device worked so remarkably effectively at wringing out delicates.

The big test came a few days later, when Allan washed one of his hand-wash-only Hawaiian shirts. An XL men's shirt is not exactly a small garment the way a child's shirt or a woman's bra is. I wondered if it would fit in that tiny contraption. But it did! And it worked just as well at wringing it out!

Probably the only downside to this whole deal is the fact that I got a hand-cranked model, which is definitely more labor-intensive. There are other models that feature a pull-cord or a button very much like the button pump used for a child's spinning top. But I figure-- this kind of crank is less likely to break or go wrong in the future (a pull-cord just seems so fragile!), so a little extra manual labor is well worth having a product that will last a long time.

So there you have it. A simple, efficient, cost-effective way to wash your delicates.  If you give it a try, I hope it works as well for you as it is for me! :-)

Kick Up Your Heels!

I have two left feet. I don't really have a sense of rhythm.  "Graceful" is not in my vocabulary, but "lanky" and "awkward" are. I generally shy away from the dance floor and have been known to step on toes even when doing the completely generic hug-like slow dance. Let's not even think about dances that involve the minutest levels of choreography and set moves. Forget it!

Despite all that, in April of this year, I finally ventured out to the Creekside with my friend Tabitha for country night. While I had visited the Creekside several times for karaoke, I'd never been there for line dancing before. It sounded fun and interesting. 
We met up at 7:00pm for the lesson, and it happened to be a two-step (i.e. partner) dance. For someone with two left feet and ZERO experience with dance of any kind, let alone country dancing, this was not a very good introduction to the art. It didn't really help that my partner, whom I knew as a karaoke regular, wasn't too familiar with the dance they were teaching us either, but was also too stubborn to pick it up properly. He preferred to sort of do his own thing and wing it, which is fine if you know what you're doing, but was NOT helping me, the novice, learn! Anyway, after the lesson, I spent the remainder of the evening out in the sidelines, watching everyone else dance and have a good time. Not quite how I envisioned the evening!

After that, I vowed not to return to the Creekside until I'd had some formal lessons under my belt. When summer arrived and Todd went off to LA, I signed up for line dance lessons through our local parks and recreation program. The teacher was good, the pace was just right, and those lessons helped a LOT. Most importantly, I picked up a lot of dance basics, which helped enormously when it came to learning new dances. Though the six-week session only taught me about 6-7 dances, I had obtained enough of a basic groundwork to learn new dances on my own (i.e. through YouTube videos and written step sheets) from there.

When I finally returned to the Creekside, I discovered something else: since newer dances/moves were now easier to pick up, the muscle memory was faster in developing. And since my footwork could just go on autopilot, I was free to let my mind relax a bit, not focusing on every last step, and just enjoy the music. Next thing I knew, I started finding a bit of rhythm and actually moving more fluidly with the music. I mean, I'm sure I'm still pretty awkward and there are still numerous times when I just don't KNOW what to do with my arms, but at least the bottom half of me is moving appropriately and in sync. That's half the battle ;-)

Now that I'm a bit more comfortable with line dancing, my next pursuit is the two-step. Last week, the local dance center where I took my line dance lessons had an open house, where all its classes were free to try. I decided to try my hand at the two-step, both the beginner and the intermediate classes. Both really kicked my butt, because it was an entirely different game! With line dancing, the only person I had to worry about was myself: focusing on my own feet and getting the moves and the rhythm right. If I messed up, I only needed a moment to adjust and get back into the groove before continuing. But with a partner, I now had to be mindful of not only doing the moves correctly, but doing them correctly in sync with someone who probably prefers not to have his toes stepped on all the time ;-P It was quite a learning experience, and having a good partner certainly helps, but unfortunately, now that the summer's over, it's really hard to commit to a series of lessons. Someday soon, hopefully!

Oh, and one last added bonus? It's really good exercise! My last couple of trips to the Creekside left me tired and sweaty and achy and catching my breath... but it felt good! Fun AND health all rolled into one... can't beat that! ;-)

Karaoke Ring of Death goes Country: Yee-haw!

August's KROD got off to a bit of a late start because we had so few participants, we decided to wait a few days to encourage other people to participate. I guess that didn't really help much, and I'm a little disappointed because this month's theme is country music! My favorite genre! I was out of town during the voting process, but when I returned, I was excited to see that it had been voted as the theme this month, and couldn't wait to get started. The only problem was-- there were soooo many good ones, I had a hard time choosing! I ended up recording 3 of them in one day and then spent the next couple days waffling back and forth until I finally settled on one (with hubby's help).

You can see which one I ended up choosing, on Sandy's blog:

http://sandywessel.blogspot.com/2012/09/krod-is-going-country-little-late.html

In the meantime, here is Edwin of My Adult Brain, with a good ol' classic, "On the Road Again", with plenty of visual road time!


KROD August: On te road again from Edwin Schippers on Vimeo.

Will you go out with me?

Today's post is brought to you by plinky.com. The answer prompt for today is:

What did you feel when you first asked someone out on a date?

I actually remember this very clearly. It was the fall of 1995, and we were coming up on one of our annual ROTC military balls at UCLA. I had a bit of a crush on one of the cadets who was a year ahead of me, and after much persuasion by some friends (also fellow cadets) who were aware of this crush, I mustered up every last ounce of courage I could find to dial his number (which I got off the class roster, of course) and ask if he wanted to accompany me to the ball. I didn't do the dial-and-hangup spiel that you often hear of, but I did pick up the phone and hang it up a few times before even dialing. I was THAT nervous.

Anyway, I got him on the line, and asked if he wanted to go to the ball with me. Bless his heart, he tried to let me down as gently as possible. He said he was only popping in for an hour and then going right back home to study for his LSAT. It was a totally plausible excuse-- we all knew he really did have the LSAT coming up in the next week or two. At the end he tried to temper the refusal by saying "maybe next year!" It made me feel a little less embarrassed, at least.

But after I got off the phone, I realized that what he said made no sense-- he was a senior, so there would BE no "next year" for him to be around for another military ball. He wasn't just saying that he didn't want to be my date for the ball, he was saying he wasn't interested in going out on ANY dates, period! Talk about embarrassing!

After this experience, I vowed NEVER to ask a guy out on a date again, at least not so obviously. It was more nerve-wracking than it needed to be, and I feel like I got a glimpse into what it must be like for guys, on whom the onus to do the asking is much greater. I definitely sympathize! 17 years later, I can still vividly recall how my stomach was in knots, how nervous I must have sounded, how disappointed I felt when he said "no", and how embarrassed I felt now that he knew I liked him. Not something I ever want to relive!

Why is dating so complicated??

Seattle Trip 2012

Earlier this month, Allan went up to the Citrix branch in Redmond on business for 3 weeks, and I decided to join him in the middle of that trip, for a week. I managed to hit absolutely perfect weather-- before I arrived, it was warm but cloudy, after I left, temperatures soared in the muggy 90s, but during my stay, it was sunny and warm.

The adventure began with my flight-- we were delayed for an hour because they had to kick a passenger out just before takeoff. I don't know exactly what happened, but the flight attendant came up to me, asked if I was traveling alone, and wondered if I would be willing to switch seats. There was a little boy (not much older than Todd) traveling alone, and they were concerned about the guy sitting next to him, didn't feel comfortable with him there. As it turns out, the switch was unnecessary, as they ejected the passenger from the plane in the end. I'm still not 100% sure what happened, but based on chatter I heard around the flight attendants afterward, I'm guessing the guy was uncooperative (possibly drunk/high), and likely swearing at the flight staff. Anyway, we all made it to Seattle without incident!

Day 1 in Washington started with a frantic hunt for shoes-- I'd forgotten to pack my flip flops! You see, I'd sent most of my clothes and shoes over with Allan in his checked luggage, so I wouldn't have to pay extra to check my own bag in. Evidently I'd forgotten that I did not pack my flip flops with Allan! Luckily I found a perfect pair at DSW, and after lunch, made my way to the Seattle Center. One of my first stops? The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation visitor center. It was actually pretty inspiring to see how they supported various humanitarian causes. As much as people like to rag on Microsoft, I'm pretty impressed with the Gates' philanthropy.

Next stop was the Space Needle, and while I waited in the line, the sun came out, affording me a mostly sunny view of Seattle. I got a few panoramic shots of the city, and although it was beautiful, it wasn't as impressive as I'd expected. I was also expecting to ride in a fully glass elevator, but was disappointed that it was just a plain elevator with a few small windows.

Here's a non-panoramic shot of part of the city around Lake Union. The V-shaped buildings in the foreground constitute the Gates Foundation:

After battling horrendous traffic (reminiscent of LA!) to return to Redmond for dinner, Allan and I came back to visit the Space Needle at night. The night views were very pretty, but unfortunately, none of my panoramic shots came out clearly. Nighttime shots are hard!

Day 2 was spent lounging around at the hotel, grocery shopping, doing laundry, reading, napping, and swimming in the indoor pool. Pretty noneventful, but it's nice to recharge the batteries. We had dinner at Moghul Palace, a delicious Indian restaurant. The best part of dinner was the homemade coconut-almond ice cream. Normally I'm not a fan of coconut, but this stuff was to die for! The owners could turn a nice profit if they opened up an ice cream parlor and served that! ;-)

Day 3 was my big day of stuff in downtown Seattle. I got up early, had a hearty breakfast, and made it to Pike Place Market in time for cheaper early bird parking. I joined one of the historical market tours and got to see/learn a lot, from the Japanese heritage of the market before WWII, to the disgusting-yet-fascinating Gum Wall, to walking on cobblestone made out of building rubble from the San Francisco Earthquake. Afterward, I slowly meandered around downtown, stopping by the Seattle Public Library (what a unique piece of architecture!) and finally, the Columbia Center, where I took a few elevators to the Observation Deck on the 73rd floor. And wow.

Let me tell you-- if you only see one sight in Seattle, the Columbia Tower is it. It sits higher up than the Space Needle, and offered some absolutely magnificent views of the city, far better than what you get at the Space Needle. Better yet, it was cheaper, quieter, and less crowded. It didn't offer full 360-degree views (more like 270 degrees), but what you did get was amazing just the same.

Here is a view facing north (see the Space Needle in the distance?)

A view of the harbor:

And a view of Lake Washington with the floating bridge:

Afterward, I enjoyed a light lunch of piroshki, a delightful Russian pastry filled with chicken, cabbage, and mushroom. Recharged with food in my belly, I made my way down to Pioneer Square, to catch the Underground Tour. Now that was an adventure! Walking around the underbelly of the city, hearing about the history of how Seattle came to be, seeing the ruins of the lives and shops that use to bustle at that level, long ago, learning about what life was like back then. For example, the crappers had to be raised on platforms to avoid getting propelled off your seat by the sewage backwash at high tide. This toilet is actually raised about 3-4 feet off the ground:

And these purple "mosaic tiles" on the sidewalk? Are actually skylights to illuminate the spaces down below. 

 After that, I decided to head down to the waterfront. I had planned to visit Elliott's Oyster House for happy hour, but when I got there, the waitlist for happy hour was already 20 persons long, so I decided to skip it. I wandered around the waterfront a little bit, and then walked up the steps of Pike St to get back to the parking garage. Halfway up the steps, I spied a sign for a gelato shop. I was hungry, since I didn't get to eat at happy hour as anticipated. So I ducked inside. Unfortunately, the shop was closed, but when I turned around, I was greeted with the entrance to what turned out to be my ABSOLUTE favorite Seattle attraction: the Seattle Bug Safari, which contained a live bug zoo! I read the list of critters housed behind the closed doors of the zoo, and when I saw that it contained several tarantulas, I was sold. I bought a ticket and entered the museum that was about the size of my living room. And I was not disappointed. Here's a collage of some of the critters I was able to get decent shots of:

Day 4 started off with a drive to Portland, where, after a delicious lunch at the Doug Fir Lounge, we made our way to Salem to visit Allan's cousin.

Day 5 began with waiting in line at the famed Voodoo Doughnut. I must say, I was not very impressed. For the amount of time we had to wait, I was expecting a spectacular donut. Instead, the only noteworthy thing about the place was its unique menu, featuring items such as the "Cock n Balls", which I was originally going to get, but discovered it was too huge (heh). So I settled on the "Gay Bar":

The frosting was too much and overall made the thing so sweet my teeth hurt. Literally. The dough was nothing to write home about-- a bit on the dry side, not soft and moist like a donut should be. Well, at least now I can say I've been to Voodoo Doughnuts. Next time I'm skipping the lines and going for Krispy Kreme :-P

We visited Powell's book store and made off with some really good finds before heading out to visit our friend Chris, who grew up in Santa Barbara and had recently bought a home in Portland.

Day 6: back in Seattle, and I took the morning to explore the Half Price Books near our hotel in Redmond. Between that and Powell's, I had quite a cache of books and DVDs! So I found a post office and mailed them to myself, knowing that we couldn't carry all that stuff back in our luggage. Media Mail is a sweet deal-- cost me $6 to mail 10.5 pounds of books back to SB, and because California was so close to Washington, it took less than a week to arrive.

In the afternoon, I took the bus to downtown Seattle again and hopped onto one of the Argosy Cruises tour boats, enjoying a 1-hour circle around Elliott Bay while we enjoyed views of the city skyline, nearby islands, and the harbor.

Allan drove down after work, and we met up with an old high school classmate of mine, Phil, for happy hour/dinner at the Tap House Grill. Phil, who's lived in Seattle for the past decade, had been really instrumental in providing tons of great advice on what to see, where to go, and where to eat during my stay here.

The next day, I returned home. I enjoyed my stay in Seattle, enjoyed the sights, even got to enjoy the weather! But as our plane approached SBA, I was reminded again of why I was glad to be back home: where else can you live with mountains on one side, ocean on the other, perfect Mediterranean climate, and a beautiful wharf and harbor of our own? Ah... it's good to be home :-)

p.s. Full set of pictures here: https://picasaweb.google.com/103173517017548034300/Seattle2012?authuser=0&feat=directlink

To Feed or Not To Feed

Did you know that the first week of every August is designated as National (or is it World?) Breastfeeding Awareness Week? I didn't-- until now. Hearing about it brought to mind a few breastfeeding-related topics that really get my goat.

First off, let me be clear that I definitely believe that "breast is best" (if for no other reason than it's more convenient and cost-effective!) and that women should be educated about their choices. What I DON'T believe, however, is that breastfeeding is a one-size-fits-all deal. Some women can't breastfeed. Some women choose not to. And what I don't believe in is shaming them for it. I believe a mother should be supported no matter what her choice.

Secondly, I draw a clear distinction between people who genuinely care about and lovingly support breastfeeding mothers, and those that would vilify any mother who chooses otherwise, guilt-tripping them for not breastfeeding. The latter group has truly earned the "boob Nazi" moniker.

There is an episode of "Law and Order: SVU" in which a new, young mother is brought to trial for the death of her newborn baby, who starved to death because she was unable to nurse him. Why didn't she feed him formula? Because she was so terrorized by the bullying lactation consultant, who convinced her that feeding him formula was the worst thing she could possibly do. Here was this new, young, inexperienced mother who believed the professional who should know better. Instead, the "professional" raged about how vile and awful formula was. Now, no question, breastmilk is superior to formula, but that doesn't make it poisonous! As the prosecutor said: "babies don't starve to death from it!"

I myself had a similar experience when Todd was born. I had incredible difficulty getting Todd to nurse, and the boob Nazi assigned to me was rude and brusque. She did nothing to help me feel better about being unable to nurse my child. She made me feel like it was MY fault, like I wasn't trying hard enough. And though she never outright said anything, I could feel her disapproval when I fed Todd a bottle. Sorry, but I'm not gonna let my baby starve! (as it turned out, I was able to get a supply going by pumping exclusively, so while Todd never nursed, he did drink expressed milk from a bottle for the first 6 months of his life. And while I would've loved to keep it up longer, I'm glad I was able to for that short period of time, and have no regrets about it).

And now, NYC Mayor Bloomberg wants hospitals to lock up formula, keeping track of bottles that are signed out, and forcing new mothers to endure a lecture every time they ask for a bottle. This is just another manifestation of the arrogant, brusque behavior I encountered with the nurse at my hospital. Women are made to feel like they are harming their babies by feeding them formula.

Given that breastfeeding fell out of favor not that long ago, I can understand (and totally support!) efforts to educate and support women in this endeavor.  What I DON'T understand is how treating women like idiots and shaming them into breastfeeding is supposed to encourage anyone to do so. For a myriad of reasons, breastfeeding can be a hard task for many. Most women (like me) who try and fail are already feeling bad that they can't breastfeed their babies, what they need is kindness and compassion and support, not judgment and condescension that only worsens the guilt. And even if formula feeding is a set, conscious choice from the get-go, that is no reason for shaming, either. Contrary to what boob Nazis would have you believe, formula DOES provide adequate nourishment for a growing baby, and as long as baby is healthy and loved, that's all that matters.

Another thing I take issue with are the reasons that boob Nazis give for support of breastfeeding. I will grant that yes, nutritionally and economically, breastmilk beats formula. But when they make formula out to be this evil, deadly potion, I'm really offended. Plenty of people (including me) have been raised exclusively on formula and turned out just fine. The worst part is when they use "statistics" to illustrate how much worse off (physically and mentally) children raised on formula are compared to their breastfed counterparts. Not only is much of this data skewed, misleading or outright false, but it lays needless blame on mothers for not "trying hard enough" to do what's "best" for their child. Unless you've walked a mile in that mother's shoes, you have absolutely NO right to dictate what is best for her and her baby.

Yet another "advantage" that boob Nazis tout about breastfeeding is the close "bonding" between mother and child. I'm sorry, but that is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Does this mean fathers can't bond with their babies? What about adoptive parents? Or the mother who had a double mastectomy long before the baby was born? True bonding comes from the act of closely holding, loving, and caring for the child-- and this can take place whether the feeding is done by bottle or by breast.

As you've probably surmised, this is a bit of a touchy topic for me. I understand what it's like to try so hard at doing my best for my baby, only to be made to feel like an inadequate, incompetent mother for not nursing him, for supplementing with formula, for not going longer than 6 months, etc... I have boob Nazi Facebook friends who post statuses and links to articles that they believe are supposed to educate women about the benefits of breastfeeding, but really only serve to guilt-trip those who don't.

Parents make a myriad of choices when it comes to raising their children. Every situation is unique. Everyone has their own individual set of challenges to overcome. So why is what/how they feed their babies anyone's business but their own? Barring outright abuse or neglect, there is no one right or wrong way to do thing. Why, then, are parents being shown anything but support, love and compassion for their choices?