Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Friday, April 06, 2007
Cerulean Just May Be My Favorite One
It's often said that Ireland has 40 different shades of green.
Hawaii, I'm convinced, has an equal number of shades of blue.
Here are about 10.
Hawaii, I'm convinced, has an equal number of shades of blue.
Here are about 10.
Monday, March 26, 2007
How I Know When I Haven't Had Enough Grown-Up Time
Tonight, while sitting around the production table with my magazine students, I noticed that the editor in chief had wrapped around his thumb what looked like a white bandage.
"Oh, did you get an owie?" I asked him, without thinking -- and without even the smallest trace of irony.
Stunned, he giggled, unraveling a plastic bag containing a small sandwich that had partially wrapped around his thumb, giving me the impression that he was sporting a bandage.
"Oh," I giggled, trying not to blush. Attempting a graceful recovery, I countered with, "I bet you can tell that I just spent the entire day with a four year old and a one year old."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
So it is on that note that I officially proclaim SPRING BREAK '07 for Double Duty Diary. We're off for a little grown-up R&R time and will be back soon with pictures and stories.
And hopefully full, cohesive *adult* sentences that don't include the words potty, boo boo, night night, or the ever-dreaded owie.
Sheesh.
"Oh, did you get an owie?" I asked him, without thinking -- and without even the smallest trace of irony.
Stunned, he giggled, unraveling a plastic bag containing a small sandwich that had partially wrapped around his thumb, giving me the impression that he was sporting a bandage.
"Oh," I giggled, trying not to blush. Attempting a graceful recovery, I countered with, "I bet you can tell that I just spent the entire day with a four year old and a one year old."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
So it is on that note that I officially proclaim SPRING BREAK '07 for Double Duty Diary. We're off for a little grown-up R&R time and will be back soon with pictures and stories.
And hopefully full, cohesive *adult* sentences that don't include the words potty, boo boo, night night, or the ever-dreaded owie.
Sheesh.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Won't You Join Me For Coffee?
One thing you may already know about me concerns my adoration of coffee. It's my life's blood, and I seek its warm comforts every morning, even though I've recently switched over to making myself decaf (gasp!) whenever I'm at home.
Something else that's equally innate to my personality is my love for a good bargain. I can work a thrift store like a bloodhound on a budget, finding treasures buried among disasters.
So I present to you the perfect storm of two of my favorite things colliding into one, perfectly caffeinated, wallet-friendly indulgence: Free coffee.
As I discovered at the Buzz Off, Starbucks will be doling out free 12-ounce cups of coffee this Thursday, March 15th, between 10am and noon.
Not to be outdone by their grungy competitor, Dunkin' Donuts will be chilling their true opiate of the masses next Wednesday, March 21st, offering free 16-ounce iced coffees all the live-long day.
Imagine what I'll do with all my newfound exuberance after participating in both caffeine giveaways! Write a novel? Disinfect the entire house? Tackle those six loads of laundry that have been glaring at me all week?
Who knows? Maybe I'll even start blogging a little more frequently. (Ha! If only there were enough coffee in the world for that one...)
Something else that's equally innate to my personality is my love for a good bargain. I can work a thrift store like a bloodhound on a budget, finding treasures buried among disasters.
So I present to you the perfect storm of two of my favorite things colliding into one, perfectly caffeinated, wallet-friendly indulgence: Free coffee.
As I discovered at the Buzz Off, Starbucks will be doling out free 12-ounce cups of coffee this Thursday, March 15th, between 10am and noon.
Not to be outdone by their grungy competitor, Dunkin' Donuts will be chilling their true opiate of the masses next Wednesday, March 21st, offering free 16-ounce iced coffees all the live-long day.
Imagine what I'll do with all my newfound exuberance after participating in both caffeine giveaways! Write a novel? Disinfect the entire house? Tackle those six loads of laundry that have been glaring at me all week?
Who knows? Maybe I'll even start blogging a little more frequently. (Ha! If only there were enough coffee in the world for that one...)
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
You Light Up My Life
Other than the time I sat in on, well... a sit-in in UCLA's administration building with Woody Harrelson, Ron Kovak, and a bunch of fellow Bruins to protest the Gulf War -- and then bailed out after 20 consecutive hours because I had a ski trip planned with my fabulous roommate and the bus was shortly leaving for Lake Tahoe and I had to pack -- I'm not really a political person.
Sure, I have certain beliefs about how life and our country would best be run and I make sure to exercise my civil rights by voting accordingly in each and every election. But I tend to not pay much attention to the minutiae of political intrigue from day to day or week to week; in my opinion, shenanigans and machinations by those in public office are as old as time and are, frankly, part of the job. I'm astounded when people are surprised and outraged by this, as if it's a new discovery that politicians are slippery.
Politicians do bad and they do good, depending on where you're sitting. Hopefully, when all's said and done, they end up doing more good than bad for everyone involved.
All that aside, one news story caught my eye today that made me genuinely excited for the work of our federal government. Not surprisingly, I consider it a good one, although I can imagine certain people are calling poppycock from their bleacher seats. Here it is:
"Daylight-saving time (DST) will begin at 2a.m. Sunday, March 11, and will end a week later than usual, on Sunday, November 4. The change, thanks to a massive federal energy bill passed in 2005, adds extra hours of daylight with the hope of decreasing national energy consumption."
Four. more. weeks. of. light. than. usual.
Holy crap.
This is certainly one of the most exciting pieces of news to pass my monitor in years. This means extra playtime outside, longer walks in the neighborhood, babies sleeping in later, and sunnier dispositions all around in Casa DDD.
I'm sure there are plenty of energy moguls out there crying into their halogen bulb boxes, but this Mama's jumping for joy at the thought of more light in her daily life.
Let the sunshine in! Well done, Uncle Sam!
Sure, I have certain beliefs about how life and our country would best be run and I make sure to exercise my civil rights by voting accordingly in each and every election. But I tend to not pay much attention to the minutiae of political intrigue from day to day or week to week; in my opinion, shenanigans and machinations by those in public office are as old as time and are, frankly, part of the job. I'm astounded when people are surprised and outraged by this, as if it's a new discovery that politicians are slippery.
Politicians do bad and they do good, depending on where you're sitting. Hopefully, when all's said and done, they end up doing more good than bad for everyone involved.
All that aside, one news story caught my eye today that made me genuinely excited for the work of our federal government. Not surprisingly, I consider it a good one, although I can imagine certain people are calling poppycock from their bleacher seats. Here it is:
"Daylight-saving time (DST) will begin at 2a.m. Sunday, March 11, and will end a week later than usual, on Sunday, November 4. The change, thanks to a massive federal energy bill passed in 2005, adds extra hours of daylight with the hope of decreasing national energy consumption."Four. more. weeks. of. light. than. usual.
Holy crap.
This is certainly one of the most exciting pieces of news to pass my monitor in years. This means extra playtime outside, longer walks in the neighborhood, babies sleeping in later, and sunnier dispositions all around in Casa DDD.
I'm sure there are plenty of energy moguls out there crying into their halogen bulb boxes, but this Mama's jumping for joy at the thought of more light in her daily life.
Let the sunshine in! Well done, Uncle Sam!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Our Brush With Reality
Have you had the chance yet to view the fabulous disaster that is "The Real Housewives of Orange County?" This "reality" television show, now in its second season on Bravo, profiles the lives of five ridiculously privileged Coto de Caza housewives. (Well, technically, it's two housewives, one single mom, one engaged mom, and a nubile concubine.)
Like its spiritually bereft brethren programs, "The OC" and "Laguna Beach," the show basically plays as a video catalog of conspicuous consumption and privileged process. Gordon Gekko would blush at some of the ideology on this program. And for me, it's television crack. I know it's bad --really bad -- but I'm unable to resist its delicious vapidity.
Technically, I'm one of them, you know. Aside from the $20 million+ difference in our bank accounts, I'm an honest-to-goodness Orange County housewife. By definition, at least. I'm a housewife, I live in Orange County, and, despite some lingering existential ennui suffered in my early 20s, I've finally accepted that I'm real.
I've even managed to rope John into watching a few episodes with me in recent months. You know, under the whole guise of "Hey, check out this train wreck!" So you can imagine my delight when, while dining at this newfangled restaurant for his birthday dinner last week (I had a coupon. Seriously.), we spotted dining nearby not one, but TWO of the show's "star" housewives.
As we were leaving the restaurant, we had to pass by their teppan table, as it was nearest the front door.
As we did, this Real Housewife smiled kindly at me:
Like its spiritually bereft brethren programs, "The OC" and "Laguna Beach," the show basically plays as a video catalog of conspicuous consumption and privileged process. Gordon Gekko would blush at some of the ideology on this program. And for me, it's television crack. I know it's bad --really bad -- but I'm unable to resist its delicious vapidity.
Technically, I'm one of them, you know. Aside from the $20 million+ difference in our bank accounts, I'm an honest-to-goodness Orange County housewife. By definition, at least. I'm a housewife, I live in Orange County, and, despite some lingering existential ennui suffered in my early 20s, I've finally accepted that I'm real.
I've even managed to rope John into watching a few episodes with me in recent months. You know, under the whole guise of "Hey, check out this train wreck!" So you can imagine my delight when, while dining at this newfangled restaurant for his birthday dinner last week (I had a coupon. Seriously.), we spotted dining nearby not one, but TWO of the show's "star" housewives.
As we were leaving the restaurant, we had to pass by their teppan table, as it was nearest the front door.
As we did, this Real Housewife smiled kindly at me:
...while this Real Housewife salaciously and unapologetically checked out John from top to bottom as he passed by:
Which made me realize that they may have all the money in the world, but they don't have my husband.
I haven't felt that rich in a long time.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Well, Shucks
Would you believe that Double Duty Diary has been nominated for the annual Share the Love Blog Awards in the "Happiest Blog" category?
No, really! Despite all my whinging and whining, I guess there are a couple of people out there who think of this as a happy place.
You can check out other nominees and cast your votes in all categories here. There is much goodness to be had.
No, really! Despite all my whinging and whining, I guess there are a couple of people out there who think of this as a happy place.
And by that I am charmed and flattered.
Many thanks go to Shannon at Zokai for the sweet nomination gesture, and to Heather at One Woman's World for organizing the whole fun shebang.You can check out other nominees and cast your votes in all categories here. There is much goodness to be had.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Taking A Peek Inside Pandora's Box
Last week Finn and Shea finally got to see the inside of Disneyland for the first time. I say "the inside," because they've spotted the peak of the Matterhorn and the skyward-stretching, slanted roof line of Space Mountain while driving along the Interstate 5 many times en route to cousin Reilly's house.
Before you get too upset on their behalf that their cruel parents have been depriving them of this de facto rite of childhood passage, I should let you know that Santa very generously left Finney and me ANNUAL passes in our Christmas stockings (Shea's free until she's three), so we will be visiting Disneyland often in 2007 to make sure Santa damn well gets his hard-earned money's worth.
I must admit that John and I have been keeping the secret of kiddy goodness that is Disneyland from the kids somewhat on purpose. Because he and I both grew up in Southern California, we've been to the park countless times -- most often accompanying visiting out-of-town relatives who were discovering it for the first time -- and we've seen first-hand how the number of guests has grown over the years to make some visits so crowded they're nearly intolerable.
"We'll go again when we have kids," we told ourselves. Then we added, cautiously, "When they're five. So they really get the most out of it."
Well, guess whose next birthday will be his fifth? The prospect of visiting Disneyland in late June, though, during the peak of summer with half of the entire planet waiting on lines with us under the sweltering Anaheim sun, made my inner Tinkerbell pass out.
Mid-week in January sounded much nicer. And it was.
Finn was hand-picked from the lunch tables in New Orleans Square to play the tambourine along with this zippy Jazz band. We walked right onto almost every ride and had to wait no longer than 10 minutes for the most crowded ones. Finn was able to meet Mickey Mouse, Goofy and Tigger, too. The weather was perfect -- not too hot and not too cold. Nobody got sunburned, threw a tantrum, or got hurt. Shea generously napped in her stroller for nearly an hour. Most importantly, Grandma Emely and dear friend Trudi came along to share the day and ease the load.
Before you get too upset on their behalf that their cruel parents have been depriving them of this de facto rite of childhood passage, I should let you know that Santa very generously left Finney and me ANNUAL passes in our Christmas stockings (Shea's free until she's three), so we will be visiting Disneyland often in 2007 to make sure Santa damn well gets his hard-earned money's worth.
I must admit that John and I have been keeping the secret of kiddy goodness that is Disneyland from the kids somewhat on purpose. Because he and I both grew up in Southern California, we've been to the park countless times -- most often accompanying visiting out-of-town relatives who were discovering it for the first time -- and we've seen first-hand how the number of guests has grown over the years to make some visits so crowded they're nearly intolerable.
On the last few pre-parental trips we made to Disneyland in our late 20s/early 30s, we realized that maybe it was time for a Disney hiatus when we found ourselves spending more time sipping cocktails at the Disneyland Hotel bar than waiting on line to experience Mr. Toad's Wild Ride -- the G-rated version of our bar experience.
"We'll go again when we have kids," we told ourselves. Then we added, cautiously, "When they're five. So they really get the most out of it."
Well, guess whose next birthday will be his fifth? The prospect of visiting Disneyland in late June, though, during the peak of summer with half of the entire planet waiting on lines with us under the sweltering Anaheim sun, made my inner Tinkerbell pass out.
Mid-week in January sounded much nicer. And it was.
Finn was hand-picked from the lunch tables in New Orleans Square to play the tambourine along with this zippy Jazz band. We walked right onto almost every ride and had to wait no longer than 10 minutes for the most crowded ones. Finn was able to meet Mickey Mouse, Goofy and Tigger, too. The weather was perfect -- not too hot and not too cold. Nobody got sunburned, threw a tantrum, or got hurt. Shea generously napped in her stroller for nearly an hour. Most importantly, Grandma Emely and dear friend Trudi came along to share the day and ease the load.
The kids, naturally, loved it all. And now that they've seen the delightful bounty that is the Happiest Place on Earth, I'm sure we'll be back again soon.
Just not in June.
You can check out the rest of the photos from our inaugural Disneyland visit here.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
It Begins
A couple weeks ago, Cari brought over a big bag full of Daisy's old dress-up clothes: tiaras, purses, feather boas, faux fur-trimmed capes, the works. You know, really frilly girly stuff that I'm sure Shea will one day covet.
(I hear the fourth birthday is the magical princess turning point for most little girls, when their hearts turn a rhinestone-encrusted shade of hot pink and they begin running around as miniature royalty in frills. Should be fun.)
So far, though, since she's only 20 months old, Shea really could care less about most of the dressy items.
Except the shoes, that is.
She's already deftly clomp-clomp-clomping around the house in these garish, Barbie-emblazoned, silver "beauties" -- which fit right over her thick footie pajamas, since they're still about three sizes too big for her feet -- and even demanded that she be allowed to sleep with them last night.
"Sheeeeeeuuuwwwwwsss ON! Sheeeeeeeeeeuuuuuwwwwwsssssss ON!"
Today when we left the house to go pick up Finney from school, I heard Shea bid a soft, plaintive farewell into her closet as we left her room: "Bye bye, shoes."
Does this mark the first blush of an honest-to-goodness girly girl?
Shea's learning to talk quite a bit these days, so whatever you do, please try to refrain from saying the words "Manolo Blahnik," "Jimmy Choo," or -- worst of all -- "Christian Louboutin" in front of her, OK?
Thanks. Every little bit helps.
(I hear the fourth birthday is the magical princess turning point for most little girls, when their hearts turn a rhinestone-encrusted shade of hot pink and they begin running around as miniature royalty in frills. Should be fun.)
So far, though, since she's only 20 months old, Shea really could care less about most of the dressy items.
Except the shoes, that is.
She's already deftly clomp-clomp-clomping around the house in these garish, Barbie-emblazoned, silver "beauties" -- which fit right over her thick footie pajamas, since they're still about three sizes too big for her feet -- and even demanded that she be allowed to sleep with them last night.
"Sheeeeeeuuuwwwwwsss ON! Sheeeeeeeeeeuuuuuwwwwwsssssss ON!"
Today when we left the house to go pick up Finney from school, I heard Shea bid a soft, plaintive farewell into her closet as we left her room: "Bye bye, shoes."
Does this mark the first blush of an honest-to-goodness girly girl?
Shea's learning to talk quite a bit these days, so whatever you do, please try to refrain from saying the words "Manolo Blahnik," "Jimmy Choo," or -- worst of all -- "Christian Louboutin" in front of her, OK?
Thanks. Every little bit helps.
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