I am so Swanky

Today I reached a whole new low in my white-middle-class-suburban life (although technically I live in a city). I wore my velor track suit, drove my Kia Sedona to the local grocery store and shopped while chatting with my girlfriends on my mobile.

I was always kind of hopeful I would end up a bohemian...I'm pretty sure now that's not going to happen.

Loving Utah

It's beautiful here. Lots of snow, lots of mountains, lots of great people. I love it here. Sometimes when I travel to New York I think I should move back. I mean clearly I am a Northeastern Yankee hoity toity, what am I doing in this backwater?

Smile.

Then I realize that Utah is perfect for my soul. I have become a better person here. I have the largest group of friends I have ever had and I actually like them all. I can breathe here. I really like it here.

I'm home.

Wonderful Day

Yesterday my very good friend, the lovely and talented Autumn, and I went to a spa for massages. It was fabulous!!! I felt so good and relaxed that it was wonderful. We had good conversation, good feelings, and generally good good good.

Love you Autumn!

Update

Then yesterday a colleague came in and asked if I had finished our data collection yet (please note the posting from Friday early am) and I said are you freakin' kidding me? Seriously, are you freakin' kidding me?

F***ers. I was GRADING. I will get to the data AFTER I BREATHE FOR ONE FREAKING DAY.

Then my head exploded because I couldn't find peanut butter in the Albertsons. I worked at a grocery store for 7 years. It's my mini first career. Peanut butter goes in an aisle. These people put their peanut butter in the bakery. Do they bake the peanut butter???? I DON'T THINK SO!!! So in the middle of an aisle at the Albertsons I said "where in the bleep bleep is the bleep bleep peanut butter?!?" Some nice young man said, it's in the corner. I said, thank you.

Where in tarnation is my gin and tonic!?!

12:30 am Friday

I have finally finished grading.

• 45 introduction students
• 17 senior seminar students
• 20 american congress students
• 21 political behavior students

This equals 103 students. 38 students handed in 15 - 20 page papers, 17 of these were senior theses at 25 pages each. 45 students did a final exam with 20 short essay questions. 41 students did final essay exams. 103 students want instant gratification on their grades. I am exhausted, although I am seriously buzzed from the 4 diet cokes I ingested so I could finish the grading.

Oh, and, I don't use multiple choice or chi-tester or any other "easy" method...lots of reading of lots of bad writing.

December 10

Sorry it's been so long. It's the end of the semester so all hell has broken loose.

My absolute favorite is the students who hand in a bunch of papers that were due in October. I kind of wish I were ballsy enough to say, dude, I'm not even reading these. But of course I say, you can have partial credit. Next semester I'm just not grading them. I am going to say right up front, unless you tell me beforehand, you cannot do it late. I say it in the syllabus but I am going to mean it next semester.

ARGH!

Transformers

Last night Paul and I watched the Transformers movie on Netflix. It was very cool. I am such a fan of Bumblebee and I was so sad that Jazz died. Seems to me none of the Autobots should have died. And the girl who played the teenage girlfriend was very good looking - no one in my high school ever looked that good in a mini skirt. And the boy was pretty cute - lots of guys in my high school looked like him. And it was fun to watch. Jon Voigt was great as the SecDef....smile...

A couple of questions:

• why are the autobots cars and vehicles that would be driven by middle america while the decepticons are military? (was this written by some crazy montana militia man?)
  
• why was the one autobot that was killed by megatron the one with the black affectations?
• why is there an x-files type sector 7 that handles transformers? how many times do we have to be told the government is hiding shit from us?

Boston

It's well known that for years Boston fans acted as though they were cursed because the Red Sox couldn't win a World Series. Never mind that for years the Patriots were good and the Celtics were good, they must be cursed because the baseball team didn't win a World Series. Yankees fans often felt bad for Red Sox, and in fact, many of us rooted for them in the first series they won. We were all Red Sox fans in 2004, we all thought Fever Pitch was a cute movie.

But you see, it is all a fraud. Just ask any fan of Cleveland teams, none of them have been good. Ever. Just ask Yankee fans who root for the Knicks or the Giants...we're in the 30th year of a 5 year plan over in Giants world. Or for that matter, the Jets or the Rangers or the Islanders. But mostly, ask a Cleveland fan.

Today I sit here watching the New England Revolution (soccer team for those of you who don't know there's a sport named soccer) and they kick ass. So Boston currently has the champion baseball team (yeah yippy woo hoo); the best football team (other than the cheating, I mean who doesn't cheat in Boston); the best basketball team (Celtics are undefeated) and now the best soccer team. If these moaners and complainers say one more thing....there will be a rumble.

Where in tarnation is my can of Boston whoop ass???

My Husband

This morning my husband grabbed a pair of jeans to put on. Then he started laughing. I turned around and he had grabbed my jeans. Note the differences and imagine to yourself the hilarity:

1. My husband is a man, I am a woman
2. My husband is 6 feet tall, I am 5 foot three, on a good day.
3. My husband is very lean, I just had a baby 3 months ago and am still working on getting the weight down.

Smile.

Ladies Night

I played Guitar Hero tonight at ladies night. My friend's son helped me learn how to play and then I played some Danzig and Motley Crew. I was so rocking out!! I am very hip...is that the word?

Oh, and, welcome to the world, Numismatist...

Body Combat

Holy crap.

Today my friend Autumn and I decided to start our work out routine. We attended Body Combat, which is essentially kick boxing. 60 minutes of insanity and now I can barely move. You may remember that last year I began boot camp right around this time and the messages began about boot camp, well I can say with certainty that body combat is worse that boot camp. I was sweating so much that there wasn't a pore that wasn't pouring. My eyes stung at the end. Once I lose 40lbs maybe it won't be so bad.

Oh, and yes, I was the fat chick in the room. AGAIN. The goal is to not be the fat chick. If I could like the chick in the front who was kicking serious ass, that'd be good.

Mushroom Pizza

As you may know I am back on the WW. I have lost 15 lbs since September 6th, which is when I started. I kind of took a break during October, but now I'm back on it. I'm starving. STARVING!!! I just had a lean cuisine mushroom pizza that was gross. YUCK. I really hope for Elizabeth's sake she can eat whatever the heck she wants to her whole life, like her dad.

Grapefruit Juice and Computers

Random thoughts for today.

First of all, who the hell drinks grapefruit juice on purpose? Some insane family member came to my house, bought some grapefruit juice and left it. So today I tried it. YUCK. Jeesh, unless this shit cures cancer you should never drink it.

Second, why do computer glitches always work when the computer expert comes to your office, all the way down the hill from her building to help you? I mean, seriously, what was the difference when she was sitting there? How embarrassing.

Finally, I LOVE LOVE LOVE working out with my very good friend Autumn...thank the lord for her.

Life as a Yankee Fan

We're kind of bummed these last couple of days, we fans of the best sports franchise in history. Joe Torre has unceremoniously been dumped - unsure how we feel about these Steinbrenner offspring. Donny Baseball has left. Joe Girardi is the new manager so now Torre is going to the Dodgers? A-rod decided being paid more than anyone has a right to earn just to play a game wasn't enough for him - this is probably good, poof, leave.

But the still coolest thing: the Red Sox won the World Series and no one gives a shit. They're all still talking about the Yankees.

It's hard to be humble.

Fabulous Week

My family has just left and I had such fun this week. I have a million things to do, but I had such fun! Things we did:

1. Reupholstered dining room chairs
2. Organized the Princess's closet
3. Decorated more fully the Princess's room
4. Bought some clothes - found a new store
5. Went out to many lunches
6. Painted some frames for the Princess's room

I am sad the week is over, but what a fantastic time we had!!

Enjoying My Week

One of my top five favorite people on the planet is visiting me this week. She is my very fabulous Aunt Anne, who is my godmother and my aunt and my confirmation sponsor and my very dear friend. We spend hours just chatting and I love it!!! Now I watch her hang out with my daughter and it is so wonderful. She is fantastic. Now, if only I could convince her to move here, it would be great.

My Daughter

If you would like to be amazed by the cutest baby in the world...and the cutest husband/father...go to the following:

http://hobbesandmachiavelli.blogspot.com/2007/10/true-yankee.html

At a Conference

I am currently in a hotel in Denver, Colorado attending a conference with a colleague. I am really enjoying this conference. Last night I heard Benjamin Barber give a keynote that was a rousing call to action for all professors.

Am I stimulated by this conference? Yes. Am I getting a lot out of it? Yes. But what am I thinking of? The Princess.

One would think I would be thrilled to have my first full night of uninterrupted sleep since July. Wrong. One would think I'd like not having to change diapers. Wrong.

I want to go home. I want to cuddle my baby. I want to help my husband give her a bath. How things have changed...

Funny Funny Students

My senior seminar students are writing reviews of major pieces of literature. In order to complete this assignment, they need to send me via email their 7-8 page paper (book or article review for which they received explicit instructions) which I will then post on a website for all students to read. These are due a week before the presentation is due. So, the first set of presentations are tomorrow. Two students haven't sent in their paper, so I guess they get zeros. One student sent me the paper Friday at 530pm (the email is time stamped) and then sent me an email today wondering why I hadn't posted it on the website. I want to know, do they think I have nothing else to do on a weekend but check my work email anxiously waiting for their product, that is four days late?

So I'm thinking I may put on my syllabi in the spring that I will only be expected to answer emails from 9am to 5pm M-F. I often think how great it is to be a professor with email, but one of the drawbacks is I did not have instant access to my professors in undergrad. I could not send them an email and just assume that covered whatever I was doing. I actually had to make time to go to their offices during their office hours. This made me more responsible and also made it easier for my professors. I know I can't tell students they can't send emails, I am seriously not that much of a Luddite, but I am thinking that a work week limit might be appropriate.

On another professional note, go listen to my podcast:

Mayoral Debate

Neurologist

Yesterday I got in for a last minute neurology appointment. The guy was very nice, very soft spoken - you know, one of those low talkers. He proceeded to put me through the Bourne Identity quiz. Remember these four things, now tell them to me backwards. About 3 sets of those. Then I had to memorize four objects. Then he said...and here's where even I beat Jason Bourne...recite in reverse order all of the presidents you can remember. HA! Here's a thing my brain, even in its downest of times should be able to handle. So off I go, listing presidents, I hit Cleveland and the doctor was like, most people only get to Ford. He looks in my eyes. Makes me squeeze things and follow his finger. And then he says, you know when you are over 30 these things happen. Over 30?!? Now I am definitely too old to breathe!!! God.

I was kind of hoping I'd get a prescription that said I didn't have to wake up with the baby anymore. Then last night I was up until 130am and up again this am at 8am. How much of an intervention do I need before I start to behave???

Scary Day

Yesterday I went to the emergency room. I had never been to the emergency room, so I now feel I am an expert in all things hospital: surgery, OB, emergency. Here's the story why:

I was in a meeting with my department chair and a colleague. They were discussing something interesting - I'm sure, I don't know because my brain went on the fritz. I was trying to take notes and discovered I couldn't get my hands to write contact. CONTACT. So I began to panic. And then I couldn't write at all. I worked very hard to just write words and I couldn't. Then my arm went numb and I had a headache. I thought, here I am dying of a brain aneurysm and the last thing I will hear is my department chair pontificating about some bullshit. I get out of the meeting, make it through chatting with my colleague (which is fine since he's a bud) and then I get to my office and call my husband. I sink down against the wall to rationalize with him how I do not have to go to the doctor. He makes me call and I get referred to emergent care who says I have to not stop go and immediately check into the emergency room. So Paul picks me up, after dropping the Princess off at a friend's for babysitting (and now I am thinking she'll grow up without a mother) and off we go. The ER doc suggests it could be a mild stroke (which I am way too young to have had) or multiple sclerosis (which has more symptoms than I had) or a major migraine (but the headache isn't strong enough) ... I'm hoping for the last possibility. They connect all these wires to me, check my heart, take a bunch of blood, put me through a cat scan, and then I wait for results. Let me tell you my great-grandfather died of a brain aneurysm. He checked into the emergency room and never checked out. So this is what I am thinking. Telling Paul what to do if I die, where the bills are, etc etc. Called my dad. Tried to act all calm and shit. The results came back and there is nothing to cause these symptoms. So off I go to the neurologist today to have my brain checked.

Can I tell you how tired I am of having to go to the doctor???

A Great Day

On Saturday all of the most important people in the Princess's life were gathered to see her baptism. The priest was very impressed with her entourage and I was very impressed with how well everyone got along. The food was good. The night was fun. And the gifts she received from friends were wonderful and too much.

Thank you all for everything...the Princess is very lucky.

Family

My family descends this weekend. All of them. This has never happened before, but you know, the Princess brings out the crazy in all of us. So all of Paul's family and my divorced family...all of them, here in Ogden, this weekend. Luckily I said they had to stay at hotels because I'm not sure they all get along...

Where's the gin? And the wine?

A Little Mourning

Anyone who knows me knows I am a sap for animals. I can't watch movies that have animals getting hurt in them, I can't read that book Marley because I know the dog dies at the end, and I believe that Michael Vick should get the death penalty, and I generally argue against the death penalty. I love animals, all animals, not just my animals, but all animals. So here's a story about one little animal.

Fourteen years ago I heard a meow coming from a snow bank outside the building I was taking classes in. It was freezing cold in Syracuse and there was this little kitty meowing. I grab her, take her home with me to my apartment. Of course I'm not allowed to have pets, so I call my dad. I make this very compelling case for taking care of the kitty for at least a couple of months and then a friend of mine will take her. My dad very graciously says yes. I name the kitty Manute (after Manute Boll (sp?) who was very popular at the time) and bring her home. Of course my friend never takes her and she moves with me and my dad to our new home in West Coxsackie. When my dad first moved in there was no furniture, no other people (my dad lives out in the middle of nowhere) so Manute was his roommate. They used to sleep next to each other on the floor in what would become his room. Over the years she has watched a number of animals come and go. Every time one of us moved home we came with a pet, which we left. While my husband lived with my dad for a couple of months he climbed a tree to rescue Manute, and got much scratched up in the process. She was cute and sweet and she had no teeth. She never made a sound, she hated being carried, and her favorite person in the world was my dad. She used to sit next to him and just lean on him and if he wasn't paying sufficient attention she would claw him.

Manute left home Thursday night and hasn't returned. My dad called yesterday to let me know that he thinks she has heard the great kitty call and left. You know cats do this. They know their time is near and they go off to find a comfortable place. I haven't seen her in a year and a half and I would have liked to see her one last time. As I sit here and write this tears are rolling down my face. Wherever she is, I am sure she has found some nice soft soul to lean up against.

First Shots

The Princess received her first set of shots today. She screamed. I cried. I am going to be a push over of a parent...but I think that's okay. Every time in my life that I was majorly crying I remember my father tearing up as well and I think he was a pretty good dad, so that's okay.

And, hell, I'm glad I don't need to get shots in my thighs ever again!

Addendum: today the Princess had a hard day, what with the shots. Luckily her Grandma Darlene saw fit to make her feel like a Princess by painting her little toe nails...there is clearly something wrong with the world when a Princess gets a pedicure before a Duchess...

September 22nd and It's Snowing

I'm sitting here in my kitchen eat-in-area working on my laptop and listening to the hail outside. Summer fought, seriously fought, for a long time to stay here in Utah. We've had 80 degree weather until yesterday...um, or until yesterday at 7:17pm when Fall decided it had had enough with Summer's bitching. So today it's hailing and it's supposed to snow, so there might be snow.

On September 22nd...there could be snow. God I love it here.

Who Does she Look Like?

I have two very good friends who insist the Princess looks like the Duchess - which makes them unique as every one else says she looks like the husband. I am posting this picture here and looking for some opinions...I can't post a picture of myself because I have no recent photos that I would admit were me in the picture so you'll just have to look and think about the last time you saw me and decide whether we look alike. I guess you'll have to do the same for the husband as well (not that there aren't recent photos that I would admit he was my husband in, but that I don't feel kosher posting a photo of him without his permission).

Personally, I think she looks like herself, which is a huge bit cuter than either of her parents.

Colbert Prompts a Research Idea

One of the things I do for a living is research young people and how they behave politically. The other night on the Colbert Report I got an idea for a research topic. Do young people thing that blogging = political behavior/activism? Does blogging = political activism? Have we channeled all possibilities for mass movements into elite blogging resources thus losing any chance for a new revolution?

I personally do not believe blogging is political activism and that it fails on a number of criteria to possibly be activism. But believing ain't science, so the political scientist in me is thinking, this is the next fun thing to think about.

If I Write it on my Blog, It'll Come True

I pledge that by the end of this school year I will be able to shop again at Express and wear their clothes.

My Guardian Angel

My guardian angel is my baby Mary. I know she's watching out for me and I know she watches out for the Princess as well. In her memory my very dear friend quilts blankets for other lost babies at the hospital. Parents are given a soft blanket to wrap their baby in before they say good bye. As someone who sat there in that moment wishing it would last forever and who had a soft blanket for her, I know the importance of this in that moment. Last week we found out that a woman was very much comforted by a Mary blanket.

Now I know that not only does Mary watch out for me and the Princess, she is also the helper angel for all these other little lost souls. I imagine her at the gates of heaven leading them in and helping them and it makes me deeply happy.

My Daughter

We, of course, are very impressed with our daughter.

Good Friends are New Friends

Tonight I hung out on my deck eating pizza, drinking diet coke and chatting about life with a relatively new very good friend. I don't have any friends from high school...meaning I kind of moved on with my life and blew them off, so I am not one of those girls who has a friend since they were like 5. If I see people from high school I usually think, shit, I haven't seen you in a while, and now I remember why. My very bestest friend is from college, she's the shit and I do keep in touch with her and miss her terribly when I haven't seen her in a while. I kind of thought that that would be it...but since I have come to Utah I have met and surrounded myself with a fabulous group of women. They are wonderful girlfriends and I can forward to a lifetime of chats with all of them. Even though I won't have those ya ya memories (they didn't know me when I first got my period or lost my first love) these memories we make now as adult women are just as important and special to me.

Make new friends and keep the old, one is silver and the other gold...here's to silver

Civic Duty Begins at Home

One thing research shows us is that if you start voting early, you will always vote. I envision years and years of voting for crappy candidates in store for my Princess.

We did not vote for the mayor - the Princess was concerned for our friendship status if we had.

And - she's proven she's our baby in more than her politics, she LOVES to listen to 80s rock alternative on Sirius. Sleeps to the Cure, smiles at Depeche Mode, made all sorts of noise for INXS.

Fat Jeans

The Princess joined us almost seven weeks ago now. And for five weeks before that I was on bed rest due to some parasite related issues. Needless to say I haven't worked out in some time. But yesterday I was able to get in to my fat jeans. On the one hand this is good. I can wear jeans with a button without that pregnancy panel. On the other hand, this demonstrates just how fat I can get.

Thus I am on a diet. Again. And I am hungry.

Late Nights With the Princess

The Princess and I do a late night shift together. We sit up and watch bad television while we decide whether it might be fun to go to sleep. Generally we choose not to sleep too early. Maintaining this while also maintaining a full time job, community service, friendships, etc etc is rather difficult. It is worth it, but rather difficult. The Princess is definitely worth it.

But, a few days ago I began a diet. This was much more fun when I could chow down on candy while pulling the night shift. It's a lot harder with celery.

Well It's Been Six Weeks

So I am cleared for exercise as it's been six weeks since the c-section. Off I go to the gym today to take a body pump class, basically free weights set to music. I am in big trouble because I am very much out of shape. I used to be able to do about 25 push ups, not the girly chick push ups but manly real push ups...today I couldn't do 5 girly chick push ups. I felt the whole room must be looking at me.

Unlike kick boxing last summer, however, I was not the fattest person in the room, so I didn't feel too conspicuous. But you know, we got out the baby book to compare pictures of the Princess to the early Duchess and in the book were some cheerleading photos...so you can imagine, the problem is the husband has now actually seen proof of the high school body and knows it didn't always look like this post grad school crap...

I've got some serious work to do...

Thank the Lord

It's below 70 degrees outside right now. Thank you.

I can breathe again.

The Princess is Brilliant

Today the Princess took her binky out of her mouth and threw it across the room.

Well, she threw it about four inches, but I was very impressed.

Softball scholarship???

I am That Kind of Mother

Tonight I had dinner with my Utah family and proceeded to demonstrate that I am one of those mothers...

• She can't eat dinner because she keeps looking at the sleeping baby to make sure she's still breathing
• She doesn't have a bottle ready because her baby is supposed to eat every 3 hours, not 2 1/2 hours, 3
• She tells her fabulous friend who has raised two wonderful daughters and helped raise five beautiful grandchildren how to make a bottle
• She doesn't let anyone touch her baby without the washing of hands

I really don't want to be that kind of mother. I need some gin.

I'm in Love

My mother-in-law sent a package a few weeks back. Now that I have figured out how you watch television when you have a baby, I have been sucked into the package. It is the Wire. A fabulous television show from HBO. I am so completely sucked in. I'm not sure that I will be able to talk to people who haven't watched the Wire soon. I think all I'll be able to talk about is the Wire.

Seriously, watch it. Watch it now.

Pizza

Thank the Lord! Tonight Paul and I discovered (FINALLY) a pizza place. And it tastes like pizza. PIZZA.

Now, these people here think they have Domino's or Papa John's is pizza. People think the crap you get in California is pizza. And some people think that yucky white stuff is pizza.

They are all wrong. Pizza is thin, huge, foldable, perfectly proportional cheese to sauce. Pizza is what people in New York make.

We discovered a place that had an owner who moved here from Manhattan. Thank God he moved here.

Pizza, pizza, pizza.

Birthday Report

It's my birthday...hey hey...got my car fixed...hey hey...random song...

Doesn't matter too much that I turned 33 because today Elizabeth's heart murmur was diagnosed as an innocent murmur. Which means, no heart defect, no problems, and my little girl is healthy and safe...woo hoo!!!

Smile.

Break Between Visits

We have a break this weekend. Paul's parents left Saturday, my mother arrives tomorrow, so we have a break today. We are spending time just the two of us today. I can't wait until we settle into a routine, just the two of us...or with the addition of the Princess, just the three of us.

Speaking of, the Princess is stirring and it's time for a feeding...and it's late and I'm tired and watching Fantastic Four on HBO...oh boy.

The Verdict is In

My husband's father arrived with photos of my husband when he was a baby and it is true, the Princess looks entirely like her father. In fact, a couple of the photos could be the Princess if it were not for the 1973 stamped on the picture. I have looked at my own baby pictures and the Princess and the Duchess have nothing in common.

So, I carried the Princess for nine months, competing with the heat and the high blood pressure and the HELLP syndrome. I now weigh twenty pounds more than when I started, none of my clothes fit and my stomach is so distended from the c-section I can barely make a stomach muscle.

And she is totally worth it....but, she doesn't have my name, she doesn't have anything of my looks about her. The Duchess would be happy if there were just a little bit of evidence that she and the Princess were related.

Maybe she'll get my blood type...

Walking the Princess Through the Neighborhood

From now on Elizabeth will be referred to as the Princess...at her request (at 330am this morning)

Tonight the husband and I walked the Princess through the neighborhood. I felt totally like a yuppy parent...what with him in his Tevas and me in my Birkenstocks and the Princess in her Baby Gap onesie and Graco stroller. As we walked, or I guess it's strolled as the equipment is called stroller, we were waved to. By people who have never looked at us before. We nodded and smiled. We petted a random puppy. We were very of the neighborhood in a way we have never been before. This is interesting. We will have to see what develops.

Oh, and, the Princess is quite sure that the people have lined the streets to see her as she passes by so she is working on her little hand wave.

Crazy Old Man

Every neighborhood has a crazy old man. Generally these old people get so insane because they don't do anything anymore but sit in their houses and stew. Hopefully old people have family to take care of them so they don't unleash their craziness on other people. Unfortunately in our neighborhood there's an old man who's family doesn't care about him so we all have to deal with him. Here's our most recent interaction with him.

Saturday morning I hear an air horn blowing and my dog is barking out the front window. I am nursing our 2 week old baby so my husband runs out to find out what the hell is going on. Standing at the end of our driveway on our lawn with some random dog next to him is the crazy old man, blowing an air horn at our house. Paul says, "what are you doing?!?" The crazy old man says, "your dog is barking." Paul says, "because you are standing on our property blowing an air horn at him, of course he is barking." The crazy old man says, "I'm calling the pound." Paul says, "go ahead, I'll tell them you are standing on our property blowing an air horn and deserve to be barked at."

This is totally in line with his recent behavior of wandering the neighborhood and harassing dogs. He stands on the property line of houses with dogs, blows his air horn in an attempt to get the dogs to bark at him. He then screams about dogs barking in the neighborhood.

Seriously. Family...take care of your crazies!!!

Back to Work

Holy Crap! I went back to work today and my desk calendar said July 10th. I have thus been away from my desk at work for one month.

ONE MONTH!!!

I had piles of mail. Piles of emails. Piles of crap to deal with. But I'm back. Back in swing, back in form, back at work and happy about it.

After 5 hours of work I rushed home to play with my baby who hasn't left my arms except for dinner and some computer work since about 8 hours ago. A whole new routine begins...

Will I Ever Not be Homesick??

Two weeks ago I gave birth to my daughter, Elizabeth. My parents came out and spent the last two weeks with me and my new family and helped very much. My stepmother changed her diapers more than anyone in the house and made all of her bottles and gave her generally much love and kisses. My father didn't change a single diaper but he did much tummy time playing with Elizabeth and generally gave her much cuddling.

Tonight they left and I started to cry - again. I cry whenever my dad leaves me. The first time I spent a week at St. Lawrence University, when I left for college - every time, when I moved to Utah, and now, when he's leaving me and my daughter. I am homesick. I want to move to New York and live right down the street from my dad. In these moments of weakness I very much want to move home. I will be over it by tomorrow and I will love my Utah home again and there will be no question I want to stay here...but now, I am crying.

Oh Yeah, Elizabeth Has Arrived

Last week I had a baby. It was scary and quick and involved many drugs - I had some kind of syndrome that apparently you don't want to have - and now Elizabeth is here.

She is adorable. Every person who runs into her, including labor and delivery nurses who have all seen thousands of babies, talk about how cute she freaking is. Because she is. The puppies love her, her grandparents love her, her daddy loves her and I love her like nothing has ever been loved before.

I am very happy. Thank God for small, little packaged miracles.

Harry Potter Spoiler Alert

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED HP7.

Just wanted to gloat. I made two predictions early, one after the 5th book and one after the 6th book and I was correct in both cases.

1. Snape was never evil because he was in love with Lily, his love for her caused him to run to Dumbledore when he realized the evil one was going after the Potter family.
2. Harry was the final horcrux.

To all my naysaying friends who thought my predictions were wrong...in the words of the immortal Nelson from the Simpsons...ha ha.

Baby Terror Begins

Today was my 36 week appointment. As I will be having a c-section one week early (my baby is stubbornly breech) this means I have 3 weeks to go. Exactly. 3 weeks from today I will be co-parenting.

How terrifying is that? I mean, seriously, how terrifying is that? How does one strike the right balance to get a kid who is rebellious while not doing drugs or activities that could kill him or her? How does one support individuality without raising a complete asshole with no respect for manners and norms? How does one make sure the kid is a Democrat? How does one make sure the kid doesn't marry a Republican? Or, even worse, God forbid, some kind of fundamentalist religious zealot?

These are the big questions. This doesn't even approach the little questions of, how does one change a diaper?

Hobbes the Carpet Chewer

Tonight the husband and I went to a friend's house for a light dinner (remember I am on restricted activity so I can do about 4 hours out a day, which means we were out of the house for no more than 4 hours) and someone (I think the only human in the house with a Y chromosome) shut Hobbes up in our bedroom. He panicked. He does not like to be enclosed, he was never a crate puppy although we did try. So, alone in our bedroom he:

• tore up the carpet
• ate the laundry basket
• dragged many shoes and clothing items into the middle of the room
• tried to open the door and cut himself trying so there is blood on the door handle
• pulled all the pillows and down comforter off the bed and there's blood on all of them
• pulled the towels out of the adjoining bathroom

I am not angry at all at him. He was terrified, I know this about him. I also know that he spent 4 hours thinking we had abandoned him and he couldn't get out. I hate that this happened to him. I arrived home and he wasn't at the door so I immediately ran through the house yelling his name thinking he must have died since he always greets me when I get home. I hear his muffled bark from the bedroom. My poor little angel.

Now of course (after I have spent much $ on him this summer and we are dead freaking broke) we have to do something about the carpet in the bedroom...argh.

It's Been a While

I have been put on restricted activity/modified bed rest. So there's not much to report as I am very bored...although I have discovered the magic of One Tree Hill, so there's that.

But today something funny and exciting happened so I thought I would relate the story.

We are redoing the baby's room (or making a guest room into a baby room) which includes getting a new carpet. I was told by the carpet people the guy would be here between 9 and 11am. So I rise to get ready around 8am. (just a note of reminder, I have two dogs who hate it when strangers come to the house so any kind of installation is always a real exciting barking moment) 807am the doorbell rings. I am in a white (basically see through) nightgown that barely covers my bum given my pregnant state. I have two big labradors barking to beat the band. I run to the front door. It's the freakin' carpet guy. I have to go out to his truck (in my freakin' nightgown) to sign and check it's the correct carpet (in my nightgown, on the street, with two dogs barking so the whole neighborhood is looking out the window). The dogs bust through the back door, let themselves out and begin to peruse the neighborhood sniffing (this is why my friend Matt said he'll never let his dogs visit my house because I'll ruin their near-perfect training). Now I have to get them back in the house (in my nightgown). I then have to fight with the two labradors who would like to help the man install the carpet (while in my nightgown, while they're barking).

At the end of it all, the carpet looks great. The man was very nice. And I have a reputation for being a crazy mooning woman....

I'm a Sucker

I've been completely drawn in to the Princess Diana concert from Wembley Stadium, London on VH1. She died on my 23rd birthday weekend and I remember thinking, this is why I never want to be famous. Just to be clear, I am a real American who thinks royalty is bull and inherited wealth is bad (although I'd like to be in the line that gets Bleinham Palace) and I was never turned on by her whole story while she was alive...I was not really into the fairy tale. But she was kind of a neat lady, I think, doing all the unpopular work and going places other people wouldn't go years before it became fashionable for celebrities to do this work.

Anyway, this is a nice concert. And not too schmultzy and not too sad.

Bombay House

Yes, you're jealous. You don't know that you are jealous, but you are.

I just had dinner at the Bombay House (shouldn't they call it Mumbai now?) and it was delicious. I barely have a stomach as the parasite takes up most of the space in my torso thus causing my stomach to be about two inches and I was able to eat 2 whole naans, lamb masala, rice, raita, mango chutney, strawberry lassi and much water...btw, I am a Murray, we enjoy eating so we eat, unfortunately I did not also get the Murray metabolism which allows most of my family to be 90 lbs so I really need to exercise a lot more to make up the difference...

Now I am lazily lying on the couch in this 90 degree heat and smiling...I love Indian food.

Duchess Explained

This is the Duchess. Not to be confused with who posts, because she will not deign to waste her time typing into a computer - except for all those kitty listservs I am sure she is on plotting the deaths of all of us human oppressors. She rules the roost. I would say she has ideas above her station, but then sometimes I am sure her station is far above mine. Today in the NYT I discovered why.

Cats descend from a specific set of five wildcats in the mideast whose mother left the jungle and joined a village of settlers. She decided that she'd rather eat their pests (rats and such) and have them take care of her than to deal with dangers in the jungle. Therefore, scientists have found that cats are independent and snobby because they chose to domesticate themselves rather than humans domesticating them. At any moment they could choose to leave and go back to the jungle. They don't really need us at all, we are the ones who hang around with them. Feeding them, cleaning up after them, waking up at all hours to let them in and out of the house, trying to get them to sit on our laps. They definitely have hand in this relationship.

No wonder I always find Duchess drinking milk out of my cereal bowl - while I am eating the cereal.

Gotta Comment on Dick Cheney

Okay. I can't not comment on this, for a whole host of reasons, but one more importantly than all the others.

First. I am a Democrat. I did not vote for anyone named Bush, ever. And I never will. Ever. Second. I am a strong believer in individual liberties and the idea from Vendetta that the people should never fear their government, the government should fear the people. Third. Anything that makes people talk about politics is fantastic! Brilliant! Interesting! I would much rather people get enraged about Cheney than the latest Idol vote.

But most importantly, I am an executive-legislative relations scholar. This is what I study for a living. How these two branches interact with each other. And into this comes the veep. Claiming he is not part of the executive branch in an effort to get out of oversight by the National Archives (I rather love this image of a bunch of archival librarians taking down the Administration). My response to this claim is WHAT?!?!?!? Um, yes, that's my expert response. The VP is only mentioned in Article II of the U.S. Constitution - for those of you good Americans who haven't actually read the Constitution which is written in English, Article II is the executive branch article. He is mentioned briefly in Article I (legislative branch) for tie breaking in the Senate. The 12th amendment to the U.S. Constitution makes it clear the VP is elected in with the President, so he is clearly connected electorally to the executive. Also, his office, the Office of the Vice President, is housed bureaucratically in the Executive Office of the Presidency. Note all those executives in there.

Today Rahm Emmanuel said, if he's not part of the executive branch, we'll stop paying into the executive budget for him. The VP said, oops, I am part of the executive branch.

That's the power of the purse.

New Television Show

So, I'm obsessed with a new television show. I have been watching One Tree Hill on Soapnet every afternoon. I love this show. I can't figure out why. It's way too young for me. It's way too stupid. But I watch it every day. It's when I think about how I love this show that I'm able to forgive Paul for his Family Guy obsession.

Clearly there's not much going on here...I'm 8 months pregnant, it's 100 degrees...so I'm watching Soapnet.

The Junction

This post will probably earn my crucifiction by the Weber County Forum who do not like anyone to speak who disagree with them.

Friday in the New York Times Ogden was featured. And dude, I mean FEATURED. Big story. Big article. Nice big pictures. All about how fabulous our city is and why people would want to come here. Considering the NYT is a national newspaper, our fair city just got fabulous coverage all over the nation. Friday in Ogden the Duchess and the husband went down to the new junction mall that opened last week. Today we went again. We love it down there. It was packed. It was fun. The new theaters are fabulous.

Why will I be crucified? Well, here we go: the mayor of Ogden deserves major kudos. He won't get them, but he deserves them. I moved here five years ago to pretty much a ghetto (well, as close as you get to ghetto in Utah which is not very close). Now the city is hopping. It's fun to be downtown. My house has appreciated quite a bit. I am proud to be from here. My family come to visit and they comment every time that the city looks better than the last time they were here. I will vote for this mayor again, considering he runs again. I may even publicly campaign for him, I am considering it.

I have been told this opinion makes me an outsider. Clearly because I wasn't born here, my opinion doesn't count (the $ I spend in taxes notwithstanding). I have been told this makes me part of the Godfrey amen choir (my opinion is somehow suspect when it happens to align with the mayor's). I have been told by some they will no longer speak with me if I publicly support Godfrey (my acquaintanceship apparently is contingent on my politics).

But I will say this. I am happy to live here now. I will probably not move, ever. Thank you Mayor Godfrey.

Only the Lonely

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, Howard Stern was discussing how lonely it must be to be smart. His basic argument was he wasn't all that smart and when people called into his show he was amazed how stupid they were, so therefore people who were really smart must be very lonely. That they do not have too many people to talk to. Now, I am not someone who considers myself "really smart" but I am one of the one percent of the population who has earned a PhD. which is probably an indicator of some intelligence. When I am in these childbirth classes I think about what Howard Stern said and I think, now I know what he meant.

My friends here are generally very intelligent so I have surrounded myself with people with whom I do not feel this Stern loneliness. It's when I go out into the real world I realize just how much of an anomaly I truly am. I won't make fun of them here, because that truly is classless, but I will say that my teenage eye rolling skills have come back in full force in these classes...so I sit in the back so no one will see.

Pad Thai

Last night my friends had me over for dinner. My husband is out of town and they were feeling badly for me that I was very pathetic and lonely (as I get when my husband is out of town) so they had me over. It was so much fun. She made pad thai - dude I didn't even know real people could make pad thai. It was delicious! DELICIOUS! And hanging out with my friends was so much fun!

Oh, and the things that pop on the pavement and the water balloons were fun too!!!!

The Magpies

Paul and I are very good to animals. Our animals have the run of our house and we pretty much let them. They never get yelled at or disciplined and they get to sleep and snuggle wherever they want to. As a result, the rumors get around the neighborhood that our house is a good house to be an animal. So...we've had stray cats set up camp in our yard; stray dogs have tried to move in and dogs that we know are not stray have come to hang out on our doorstep. Last week we had a little fledgling magpie set up camp in our yard, which was very cute. We followed it around the house and kept our eye on it so nothing happened to it.

Tonight, the fledgling and his two siblings are learning to fly and using as their launching pad the fence around our backyard. I've been watching their parents show them how to do it and laughing at their attempts to not fall off the fence. It's been very exciting around here. Lots of babies.

A Simple Meme

Tagged by Tomorrow …

Here are the rules to play:

1. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
2. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
3. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.

8 Randomosities …

1. I fell in love with my husband because he didn't tuck in his shirts, shave or get his hair cut - after years of dating Stepford guys, this was a real clue of how fabulous he is.
2. My favorite group is the Beatles, and has been since I was four not since the more recent 90s flashback retro craze.
3. I am from the east, live in the west, and believe that all people should live in each region of the country to truly understand what America is like - of course I refuse to live in the South, so I am also a hypocrite.
4. I love reading historical romances and watching soap operas (General Hospital, As the World Turns, Guiding Light, Days of our Lives, Young and the Restless, All My Children) - which is probably why I loved the Tudors.
5. I once was a cheerleader - well, for five years I was once a cheerleader - and I actually am proud of that.
6. I can't read books or watch movies about animals who die - even the most innocuous of them like My Dog Skip.
7. I was voted class flirt of my high school.
8. I like to dance in the shower and then while I get ready in the morning.

I tag ….
1. Eris

2. Meemoo

3. Private Idaho

4. Oxymoron

Um, I don't know any more bloggers...I am such a blogosphere loser.

Brush with the Past

Every week I attend (with the husband who is usually running late from a lacrosse package) child birthing classes. These are generally very interesting and enjoyable. This week the nurse took us on a tour of the maternity wing of the hospital to show us all the good stuff they have there (by the way, my hospital kicks as for ob stuff; 99% of babies who check into NICU check out alive - it is ranked #1 in the west for baby stuff and is in the top ten nationally - so they have good stuff). She shows us a delivery room. Which, and this is where I brush with my own sad history, is the exact room where I delivered Mary (my stillborn child from almost two years ago).

I stood there. Looking at the room in which the most momentous emotional event in my life happened. It was so different from my own memories. So sterile looking. And I thought, the last time I interacted with my baby was in this room. In many ways it was sad and in many ways I felt stronger for it. My little guardian angel began her watch over me in this room and I could feel that she was there with me then as well. I may request to not have that room on delivery date for this baby as I'm not sure she deserves to have all that emotion wrapped up in her birth day, I mean, she should have her own emotional reaction from her parents. But I know that my little angel will be with me and then with this little girl for the rest of her life as well.

Excellent Book

When the Emperor was Divine

Every American should read this book...NOW. This is an excellent book. It is about Japanese internment camps from WWII in Utah. You see, the fatal flaw of America is every time our country is in harm's way we lash out viciously at some minority group in our country and attempt to destroy them. Civil War: blacks looking for jobs who had been freed; Post-Civil War: Indians in the way of our taking land; WWI: anyone who disagreed with war; WWII: Japanese Americans; Korean War: Communists; Vietnam War: student protesters; High inflation in 1980s: all poor people; Post 9/11: Mexican Americans.

When will we learn to stop doing this to ourselves and our people?

That Scene from Alien

Today I spent about an hour sitting on my couch (ostensibly resting but also watching my favorite soap...I know I know) with my shirt kind of up so I was looking at my ginormous belly in which the parasite is currently residing. I was just kind of hanging out and all of a sudden I was in that Alien movie and there was movement. It was insanely cool and creepy all at once. Of course the only other live being near me was my dog (the one of the $2500 surgery fame) looking at me, not really impressed by the belly at all. I sat there, stupefied, for about 30 minutes until Paul arrived home (having just taken the other dog out for a walk) and I was like, come here come here come here. He comes down and looks at my belly and also sees the belly move.

He then said, well it's clear where they got that idea for the Alien movie scene...smile...

Random Update

Here's the score for the last couple of days:

• Spent some quality time with my favorite person to hang out with, my husband, and he allowed us to go see Pirates III. When I say he allowed us because he knows I am an Orlando Bloom fan and I had to drool and drool...and oh my heavens, his end of movie Pirate look has done a lot for me in my late night fantasies.
• Went to church today (and let me tell you why I love my conservative Catholic Priest - he walked up to me as soon as he saw me and said, how's the baby doing? I said good. He said how long to go? I said ten weeks. He said "hang in there little guy" - this is why I go to my church for all you naysayers, because people actually care and remember) and during the homily and the music (we have this kick ass Saturday evening mass with a bass, guitar and eucalalie and a phenomenal singer whose voice makes the hair on my body stand up) the parasite was kicking, so I'm thinking she's a Catholic too.
• Watched Talladega Nights. Oh my god, that movie was horrible. Paul likes Will Farrell so I try to be supportive and every other movie choice is his and he picks this crap. Then in the middle of the movie he falls asleep. I look over and say "oh no! I am not watching this hillbilly crap by myself, get the hell up!"
• Somehow this morning my ear popped closed so I have been walking around with hearing from one ear all day and a static sound in my other ear. Any suggestions on how to hell to clear this? I have tried big yawns and holding my nose and blowing real hard and swallowing real hard - to no avail. I am going CRAZY.
  

Cleaned out the House

Well there's a parasite on the way, in case you didn't know, so we had to clean out the house.

Today the husband and I cleared out as many books as we could, because quite frankly, we have too many damn books that we don't read more than once. All my historical romances - gone. All Paul's civil war historical fiction - gone. I had a much easier time giving up my sex books than Paul did his killing and death books, go figure.

Gone is the desktop computer we haven't used in a year. Paul of course still has his three laptops - why one person with one lap needs more than one laptop is beyond me.

We are now prepared to move some furniture around and be even more ready for this little person who gets her own space. As someone who is very keen on having my own space, it is important to me that she get her own space.

Five boxes of books, FIVE.

Parasite News

Today we had our 30 week appointment with the midwife. The little parasite is weighing in at 4lbs 2 oz, so she's pretty big (okay, that's coming out of my belly? through my what? who designed this procreation system?). Her heartbeat is strong. Her little kicks are strong. So all is good.

And, something that is very wonderful, a horrible thing happened at work today and I didn't even care as much because I am so happy about this little parasite.

Spidey at the Movies

Yesterday I went to the movies with my husband to watch Spiderman 3. I would have preferred Pirates 3 (apparently Orlando Bloom is particularly yummy, and for all of you who don't know, I wanted Legolas, NOT Strider) but Paul wanted to see Spiderman - so off we went. Here comes the rant.

• Hey White Trash freaks, the movie theater is NOT your trashy, dumpy apartment. Please do not eat your food loudly. Speak loudly. Spank your baby loudly. Oh and on that, white trash freaks, babies should NOT be at Spiderman 3. If your kid can't stand up, your kid can't be at a movie. And if you can't afford a babysitter, trade in the ATV and pay for one so you can go to these movies with the grown ups.
• Hey Teenage Goth Wannabe, kicking my chair doesn't make you cool, you are an idiot entirely on your own with no help from me. So please do not involve me in your pseudo-anti-authority trip. Oh, and if you were truly goth, you wouldn't be at a trendy Hollywood movie to begin with.
• Hey Spiderman 3 makers: COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE MADE A MORE BORING MOVIE????!!! No one went to Spiderman 1 or 2 to see whether MJ loves Peter Parker or whether Aunt May got engaged too early or whether Harry's dad loved him. They went to see ACTION. ACTION! Get a clue.
  

Heroes

Okay, we submitted. We collapsed to the never-ending pressure by friends to watch this show. We recorded the entire marathon from Sci-Fi, downloaded episodes that were missing, and we watched it. (this is something Paul and I enjoy doing, we often watch hours and hours of television of a single show...it's fun, especially when you like the person you're watching with) All of it.

Here are my thoughts (in no particular order, which is why this is a random pondering):

• Heroes is a rip off of X-Men, I liked X-Men, couldn't we have just had a television show of X-Men?
  
• Sylar is boring, boring, boring (and no, the episode with the mom did not make him more compelling)
  
• "Save the cheerleader, save the world" should be everyone's motto
• Nathan and Peter Petrelli (sp?) are the hottest heroes, Mohinder is the hottest non-hero
• Claire is the hottest chick hero (but that makes me a lesbian pedophile, so don't tell anyone I said that)
• Hiro ROCKS
• When the chick who can make you see what she wants you to see gets knocked out, shouldn't she become the fat person she tells Micah she is hiding behind the facade? why does she become the facade?
• Nikki rocks!
• And, wasn't Linderman (sp?) only following Dick Cheney's advice of proportionately small losses are acceptable if you can heal the world?
  

Green Lantern Ring

As I noted in my last post, I have a ton of crap to do. Today I cleared quite a bit off my desk and am in the process of getting all sorts of things in line. My surgerized puppy can be left alone again so I can actually get out of the house, get to work, and get things done. This is working well and I am happy about clearing off the work desk.

Now I have to clear off the home desk...so to speak.

Report: Back From Flag

I just got back from a great visit with my best friend who lives in Flagstaff, which is about 9 hours away from here. For a while we were VERY far apart distance wise, and now we are a drive! Woo Hoo! It was great! It was fun! But now I'm back. Here's a list of crap I have to do:

1. Clean out the house for the arrival of the hatched parasite.
2. Pay the bills.
3. Register for parasite presents.
4. Get fat while baby grows.
5. Keep the puppy on his physical therapy.
6. Write my dissertation into a book (oh yeah, that was due in January).
7. Write an article with colleague about new research project idea.
8. Write book review (oh yeah, that was due in April).
9. Get instrument together to do 2008 presidential election project.
10. Get 1100 online class together and ready to go on new online program.
11. Take pregnancy classes 3X a week for 2 hours each time.
12. Give birth to and nourish newborn baby and go back to work 3 weeks later.

Clearly it is time to turn on the super-type A-stay up all night Murray power ring...kind of like the green lantern, but better.

Will I ever sleep again?

The Parasite is Doing Well

Yesterday we (the parasite, the infector, and myself) had an appointment. Everything looks great. In fact, she is being so helpful, she is setting up for a planned c-section which means the OCD type A host gets to choose the date of arrival. So far, so good.

Can't wait for August!

Learning the Truth

Some of you may be aware I have been dealing with a surgerized puppy the last couple of weeks. This means he has to be under constant surveillance. A number of my friends have said, good practice for the parasite that is coming. I said, true true. Well, last night I learned something about my spouse that does not bode well for marital happiness post parasite arrival.

Hobbes decided at 230am to bust out of his confinement, let himself around the house and then lick his incision line for about 2 hours. I wake up instantly when he busts out. I stumble out of bed (mind you I am in my third trimester so when I say stumble, I freakin' mean it) and follow him around. A bit of a tussle ensues during which my other puppy, Mac, declares he will sleep in the confinement spot perfectly (why can't he have been the one with the surgery, he'd be so much easier to deal with?!?) and Hobbes declares he will sleep on the bed (btw, he can't jump on furniture). I deal with all of this in the pitch black so as to not disturb my husband who has been SNORING through this whole thing. I then proceed to sit on the floor with Hobbes for 2 hours convincing him that licking is not really in his best interest (husband, snoring) and to please just go back to sleep.

I finally get back to sleep at 430am, but not before I note the indisputable fact that my husband will NEVER wake up in the night with the baby. Clearly a water pistol is needed to break him of that unattractive habit.

My Talk on Television

Last week I was famous for a moment, being interviewed on a local talk show about a Hannity-Anderson debate. I was objective and analytic...because that's who I am when I am being professional. I do not spew my politics as a professor, I NEVER use my expertise as a way to tell people my politics. I never have and I never will.

Interestingly, I have been sent 4-5 emails from conservatives who claim I must be a conservative because I didn't trash Hannity. I've gotten 4-5 emails from liberals who claim I must be a conservative because I didn't trash Hannity. I would love to respond - of course I don't - that Hannity doesn't determine my politics. I may agree with something he says and I may disagree with something he says...but what he says doesn't make me a liberal or conservative.

Trust me, I could trash Hannity with the best of them. I had to pace the room in order to keep my dinner down while I listened to Hannity's presentation. But you see, my disgust at his behavior is personal. Professionally I think he offers something to the world, and as I was being interviewed as an expert in civic engagement/youth in politics I spoke to that point.

That doesn't mean I'm a conservative. That means I'm a good political scientist.

Lawn Care

My husband is supposedly the great lawn care expert. He spent years working at ChemLawn so he knows all the badness of fescue grass and crabgrass and the differences between stuff that looks green but apparently doesn't count as grass. He's very good.

But I feel the need to pick on him a bit here. For the past two weeks he has been stomping around the yard (picking out the fescue grass while stomping) and complaining about how there is no water on our street. He is annoyed, he is angry. "The city will have to reimburse us for our yard when all our grass dies." This quote is interspersed with many swear words. He spent an hour setting up sprinklers that run off our home water and making sure they were getting coverage to all parts of the lawn.

Then yesterday, he turns on the valve that allows water to our house, which apparently it hadn't occurred to him to open two weeks ago. He then looks somewhat sheepish and says, we have water. I say, didn't this happen last year? He just kind of smiles.

I am reminded of the time we bought a subwoofer for him and he and my father were trying to install it and I came into the room and they both said, we need a cord with two heads, the one we have is wrong, I look at the cord and say, aren't these two heads? to which they respond, oh yeah....

Staying Home with the Pup

Oh yeah, so I can't leave my big doggie alone. He has to have constant attention. So here I sit in the 90 degree weather wearing a white trash outfit (don't ask, it's hot, I'm barely clothed) while pregnant watching this puppy.

He's doing very well, although his major problem is he doesn't truly acknowledge he's just had a major knee surgery. I spend a lot of time saying, hey, no, behave, don't do that.

Yesterday I got out and was on the local PBS show "Utah Now." I am so famous. Today I sit here (and my friend just drove by on his little scooter...ciao....and I am thinking hellllllllloooooooooo, stop and talk to meeeeeeeeeeeeeee) in the heat, not famous, bored and miserable...

Hobbes the Stubborn Maniac

Okay.

It's been less than 24 hours since we brought Hobbes home from his major surgery. So here's the deal.

We're supposed to keep him on a leash when he's outside. This morning I walk out with him and Mac decides it would be fun to run up the street and take a walk with some other people who were out. I can't run after him because I am stuck on the other end of the leash of the gimp. That was exciting.

We're supposed to not let him lick. This is very important. They gave us an Elizabethan collar to prevent licking. Hobbes knows how to get this off his head. Thus, I was awake all night listening for the beginnings of licking (as well as husband snoring, cats meowing) so that I could yell at him if there were a problem. (note to self, the parasite kicks a LOT at around 3am)

We're supposed to keep him confined and mellow. This is very important They suggested a crate. I put him in the crate. I take a shower, test run 30 minute confinement. I get out of the shower and Hobbes is sitting on the bathroom floor looking at me with a big old grin (oh yeah, he's not supposed to go up and down the stairs, so he broke that rule as well). I walk up the stairs in my bathrobe and see he has broken the crate (this is not hyperbole, he pulled the walls of the crate down and broke it down - interestingly I hear, and the walls come tumbling down).

I call my vet friends. Matt says some dogs are just not as easy to control. I am thinking, that's the understatement of the century. He says get some sedatives. The vet surgeon calls to see how Hobbes is doing. And then he says the only time this surgery hasn't worked is when a dog went nuts in the crate.

Gulp. This $2000 surgery has turned into lots of money on gates, toys, sedatives, etc etc.

Does anyone want a lame dog???

Puppy Update

Hobbes came out of his surgery just fine. My vet, Dr. E., said I had done a very good job of getting him in very quickly. Apparently most pet parents wait about 2 months before they get in for the surgery. As a result, his knee was not damaged at all and the surgery went well. My husband picks him up today at 2pm. Then the following rules begin.

• No running.
• No jumping.
• No playing with Mac.
• No going outside without a leash.
• No walking.
• No stairs (um, how we're supposed to accomplish this I have NO idea since we have a two level house and we live in both levels).

All of this for 6-8 weeks. Dr. E. said they wouldn't really release him until August 8th and that he couldn't do a real hike until October. So this means for the last three months of my pregnancy (the fattest and most awkward moments of my life) I will be taking care of a dog who in summer would like to be swimming and running and hiking while also taking care of a dog who will expect swimming and running and hiking. What was looking to be a very long summer looks like it is going to be even longer.

Hobbes the Super-Athlete

My puppy, Hobbes, is a super-athlete. How do we know? Well, following are attributes of super-athletes that my puppy displays.

1. Whining diva attitude - Hobbes is the center of the universe and if you don't acknowledge it hourly he will pout or bark at you
2. Short busts of incredible speed - Hobbes can go from pure sleep to pure speed in a split second
3. Put on the DL at the beginning of the season - Hobbes ruptured his cruciate ligament Wednesday

My dog ruptured his cruciate ligament. He was playing in the backyard, planted his foot and spun (I think to catch that elusive invisible football heading straight at him). He immediately started to limp. We, being good puppy parents, ignored it thinking he was being a diva. Two days later we decide we should take him to the vet. So here we go.

• $350 for x ray to determine that the cruciate ligament is ruptured
• $50 for the pain medicine/anti-inflammatory medicine to help him feel better
• $1700 (no that's not a typo, that's $1700) for the knee surgery so he can get back on his feet
• No walks, no hikes, no running around, no going to the bathroom without being walked out on a leash (that's my favorite), no playing

Cheating

Today I discovered a number of my students studying from the final exam - the final exam, mind you! Which means they got the questions to the final exam in advance and are studying from them. (part of me laughed as I was thinking, WTF are you studying? just write down the answers)

Now, for the record, this is an upper division course and I don't care if they memorize the shit, so I give them a guide in advance from which the questions are drawn. So technically I aid in the cheating by giving them a big bunch of questions. These are not MC, so they have to write stuff, and they have to understand it, and I feel that by answering the study guide they actually learn the material (at least, that was my experience in college) so I'm cool with it.

But to actually have the questions. I am nice to my students. I trust them. I let them take the exam any time during exam week. I have said to my colleagues, they wouldn't share questions. They aren't that stupid. Clearly I was wrong. They all turned bright pink and stuttered all over themselves.

No more niceness. Next year, all exams will be proctored. Not by me, but they will have to take the exam at 7am if that's the time, damnit! They'll have to take it during class time.

Students students students.

Traveling While With Parasite

This weekend the husband and I attended a wedding back east (we can actually say back east as we are actually from the east, all of these westerners who have never stepped foot to the east of the Rocky Mountains really should not call it back east...but anyway) which entailed traveling 5 hours in a plane from SLC to Newark.

When you live a million miles away from everyone (which I would recommend to everyone) you fly a lot. So we fly, a lot. I don't really like flying, I hate not having an escape route, but it's a necessity of life, so I fly, a lot. But I have never flown when my belly is sticking out further from my body than my chest, which makes my whole trick of spinning to the side and sleeping not work as the belly doesn't fit sideways in an airline seat. I'd like to go home in June to my stepsister's graduation, but I don't think it's going to work. I'll just be huge then and who the hell wants to travel like that? I mean, seriously!

But the wedding was fun. Husband got to see his family and the family got to see me in all my parasitical bliss. The next time I see these people the parasite just might have a name.

Oh, and, I was introduced to a friend of the husband's father as essentially the incubator for the grandchild...smile...I was thinking I need a t-shirt that says that in addition to the very cool parasite t-shirt my good friends got me.

Media Blitz

For the record, I have a degree from the esteemed S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications in Newspaper Journalism. For a little - or really my entire high school life which began with my reading All the President's Men (which has some serious relevance today, but I digress) - while I was planning to be the next Woodward and Bernstein (and again a slight digression as I think, jeesh, if I had kept going down that path I could be toppling another evil president). This meant I needed a degree in newspaper - not communications, newspaper. And as I had bled orange my whole life - having been born at Syracuse General to an Orange alum - I needed a degree in newspaper from Syracuse University, which just happened to have one of the top three newspaper programs in the nation at the time. Unfortunately this path was derailed when it turned out I didn't really enjoy asking people questions - kind of a requirement to be a reporter - and that I really wanted to explain why politics happened rather than commenting on what happened politically. And if you re-read All the President's Men you'll see that all they're really doing is commenting on what happened politically. So I switched to Political Science.

But today I have rediscovered another reason why I left the path of Woodward and Bernstein. Media suck. Seriously. I have watched pre-eminent journalist after pre-eminent journalist try to trip up some young person in interviews after this tragedy. Thank God I am not in that profession.

Massacre at Virginia Tech

I am so angry today. In Virginia, 31 students were shot by another young man who decided to take his own life. Police officers go running into harm's way to try to save some young college students. We hear students on CNN and their voices are shaking as they try to answer media questions.

Why am I angry? Because three weeks ago I hosted a conversation on campus about guns on campus. The question, debated by a NRA lobbyist and a former Police Chief, was whether guns should be allowed on campus. At this conversation, the NRA jackass - wearing his fabulous $1K suit - brags about his ability to force campuses, specifically University of Utah, to allow students to have guns; he brags about the mortar launcher he has in his back yard, he brags about how much power the NRA has.

That MF. Here we are, half a month or so later, 32 students later, and this jackass is PROUD of what he did? I teach on a campus. And now I have to worry about some idiot coming in with a gun that the NRA says he has the right to have on campus to kill me and my students. And of course, checking the NRA website periodically throughout the day results in no reading of a statement from that interest group about how they feel about this.

But I know the argument they will say: if only all the students had guns, then someone could have taken him down.

Another banner day in America.

April Sucks

I really hate April.

Being a professor, or basically having a life that will always be a college schedule, means that certain times of the year are ruined by your job. You have a roller coaster job that is busy, extremely busy, at certain times of the year. And you don't get to go home at 5pm just because it's 5pm.

April is the last month of the school year. As I look at my calendar I have meetings, dinners, lunches, banquets, grading, final exams to write, student feathers to smooth...insanity insanity insanity. Thanksgiving is almost as bad and the week before my birthday (which is right around the first day of classes usually) ranks up there too (meaning my job has forever ruined my birthday). But April is terrible.

I will completely collapse in May. Not talk to anyone, not think about anything, and enter my own private ivory tower to work on my research (the reason I got into this gig in the first place).

2 weeks to go.

Very Cool

My father's friend sent this along, who then sent it along to me (did I mention that my dad has the COOLEST friends, I am probably the only kid on the planet who'd almost rather hang with her dad's friends from college than her own...but I digress).

Please enjoy.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4776181634656145640

Murphy's Law

I am picking up my parasite's minivan today. At 4pm. I have been driving around in a loaner from the Kia people since they took my trade in car 10 days ago. Today, on the day I am turning it in for my own car, someone in the (lots of big ass swear words here that are only appropriate in Martin Scorcese movies) parking lot at my (more swear words here) school decides to ding into my loaner somehow. There are three major scratches and two dents. All of which I can cover with my hand, but still. (lots of swear words, some involving very inventive body positions)

I canNOT believe this has happened. I have parked in that (more swear words) parking lot for 5 years, almost every day, and not once has some (more swear words ending in a noun starting with a c that is much more appropriate in England) banged into any of my cars. I call the guy to tell him. I just can't believe this! I am probably going to have to pay for the (more big swear words with the acronym MFCS) damage that wasn't my fault!!! Today! Today they decide to ding my car.

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lacrosse Culture

Last night I attended a high school lacrosse game. I sat with some of my adult friends, which was fabulous because they go with me so I have someone to talk to, and listened to a pack of teenage girls behind me planning how they can marry certain boys on the lacrosse team. Here in Utah the teenagers don't actually want to have sex with each other, they want to get married. So instead of planning how to get into someone's pants, they plan on how to spend the rest of their miserable lives together. Interesting.

But I digress. My husband is the assistant coach for a high school lacrosse team that is ranked first in its division. It's good he's assistant because he has no head for the managing aspects required of a head coach. I am a good wife so I go and watch these games. I have sat in the freezing cold with no one talking to me for hours just to watch him yell at high school kids from across the field. I have gone to lacrosse banquets to support his involvement in this sport. I enjoy it. I enjoy watching him do something that he so clearly loves. It makes my heart happy that he is happy.

But sometimes I get annoyed at the lacrosse culture. Or, the culture of Utah lacrosse that has many many many stay at home moms whose entire lives are devoted to their children and they have nothing else to think about. I don't have too much in common with these women - not to say I judge them or think they made the wrong choice, it's just not a choice I would ever make - so I generally do a lot of nodding and smiling and kind of hoping maybe someone will say something interesting.

Last night a woman I have never seen says to me, "I hear congratulations are in order," I look at her blankly - I'm not sure who she is or why I should be congratulated - she follows up with "when are you due?" Ahhh, it has become clear, she is asking about the parasite. The parasite about which I have been very quiet given my own experience, even though I am sure this growth is doing fine. The parasite which currently is a medical condition - and I am one of those people who thinks you don't discuss private medical conditions with random people so only my dearest and nearest know about it. The parasite with whom this woman will never have an interaction. She somehow deems it her right to have access to our private life. I say, "August." She then proceeds to tell me how awful it will be to have a child in August, she having had 2000 children and all the best ones were born in January. I sit there and wait for some divine intervention to save me from this ridiculous onslaught of unsolicited advice, I mean, it's not like I chose August (although if I could, given my career, August is a pretty damn good month, but she wouldn't understand that as she does not have a career). I squirm, biting my tongue on the nasty wit that tends to rise to the occasion to protect myself against these crazy people.

Later I say to my husband, "some woman I never met told me congratulations are in order." He kind of looks at me and says "oh yeah, the head mom in charge found out (via a friend which is not a big deal, not like it's a military secret or something) and asked and I said we were keeping it quiet." Ahhh. Quiet means telling all of the women that this coach's wife has finally achieved what clearly is every woman's dream and now she is in the club and we can talk to her.

Where in tarnation is my can of whoop ass!!!!

Bought the Parasite a Minivan

Yesterday the hubby and I joined the adult world and bought a minivan. My husband suffers from serious buyer's remorse so all night we had to deal with recriminations about how stupid we were to have made a purchase. But I, on the other hand, have no problem buying something and then actually enjoying it. So, here I am enjoying it:

It is a Kia Sedona. It's huge. It's the hugest car I have ever had (I'm a little sedan driver). It has enough space in the back if you pull out the seats to put a large bike lying down on its side with plenty of space. It pulls up to 4000 lbs (so if we ever have anything that big we can tow it somewhere if we have somewhere to tow it). It's glacier blue and gray on the inside. The glacier blue kind of looks silver in some lights. It has a 12 inch dvd player in the back with 4 headsets so whoever's in back (probably the parasite or one of us when we travel long distances) can watch a movie loudly and not bother anyone else. When you drive on the highway you can talk to people in the back and it's not like you're yelling at them. It does well up hills as it has a V6 engine (whatever the hell that means) so we can go skiing easily (unlike the protege which stalls going up our driveway). It's very comfortable! And if you crash into something all sorts of pillows jump out at you from all sorts of angles.

And, they gave us a box to put in the back of it to catch stuff. To which the husband replied, great we spent $24000 and they gave us a box.

You can never win with these people who don't like to purchase stuff!!

Shell-Shocked Students

Mostly I am a mean professor. I don't really care about students all that much, at least personally. I don't care what they had for breakfast. I don't care who they're dating. I don't care if they are liberal or conservative. I care that they are exposed to political science and learn the material so that they will analyze politics in the future. Period.

I care about some more personally because I get to know them outside of class. But inside class, I don't care. I am mean...mean...mean...No one will ever tell anyone that I was the best teacher they ever had, and I'm okay with that, as long as they tell people they understand politics reasonably and not passionately.

Which means I give hard assignments. But today, in the class I am sitting in as they are working, I gave an easy assignment. They are all surprised. They are all looking for the secret Murray trick that makes this assignment much harder than it is.

Students are funny.

Sneezy

Wasn't there a dwarf named Sneezy? Didn't Snow White just harass the bejesus out of him?

I am sick again. I am tired of being sick. My husband says I look pathetic, my students are wondering why I haven't cancelled class, and all I do is SNEEZE.

If I am allergic to something out here in Utah, which would be my first allergy ever in my life, I will be very angry with these Mormons. I mean, clearly, it would be their fault...

Ewww, I just sneezed all over my keyboard. How do you clean that up?

And Here I thought I was Well-Traveled

Back from Vacation

I was at a conference this past week. I discussed papers (in Political Science, one of the presenters is someone who's job it is to kick the authors' asses on their papers) and did pretty well. I presented a paper (and thank you fate for giving me the first time slot in the conference and the very last time slot in the conference) and did pretty well with that as well. I am always convinced that my mediocre intelligence will someday shine forth and someone will call the con for what it is: this woman clearly shouldn't be a PHD. She's an IDIOT! (I lack that male gene of total self-confidence) I took a meeting which has set me up for a major project over the next few years. Grant $$$. Come on come on. Many publications as well! Woo hoo. I was polished, I was fabulous, and I was the most professional I can be. Came away with many many ideas and many many questions about politics.

Arrived in my office today to many emails from students who were told by my department secretary that I was on vacation the last three days of school before spring break. ARGH! VACATION! The balloon deflates with a whimper.

Could this Cold Last Any Longer?

Two and a half weeks ago my very good friend decided to give me his nasty cold. As I am currently carrying a parasite that I would rather not see harmed, I cannot take any medicine for this nasty cold. So I have been eating many oranges, drinking much juice, and generally hacking my way through the days.

To add insult to injury, God has been dumping snowfall after snowfall on us. I can't even get out in some fresh air to try to clear up this cold. I am trapped indoors with many sick people in this germ factory!

But in the grand scheme of things, life is good. I was told I was making good progress toward tenure, yeah. I was told my little parasite is growing well and should make its appearance August 14th (as both Paul and I are born in August, on the 21st and the 28th respectively, we feel very strongly about the numerology), yeah. My mother is planning to move to Utah so that we don't have to pay for parasite care in the years to come, yeah.

All is good. And it is Lent, so um, good for that too.

Jeesh It's February

Well I just turned around and it is February. February! When did January end? And how is there less than a week left in February? I have so much work to do.

When I was 14 years old I was in the ninth grade. Generally my grades averaged around 95/100, which is not bad. The fourth quarter of my ninth grade year I was playing softball, running track, cheerleading, doing the school newspaper, playing in the high school band, taking religious education, and going to school taking a full honors courseload. I hit a wall. A serious wall. I earned an 88 that quarter, lowest gpa of my high school career, and other than my bulemic semester in college, the lowest gpa of my life. I learned that I couldn't do everything. There just was not enough time. I was exhausted. I was miserable. And I figured out that the amazing Duchess could only truly juggle so many balls. Unfortunately the lesson was forgotten in the years since as I have piled more and more upon myself.

I am doing too much. I am saying yes too often. I am underappreciated for some of the things I am doing very well and I am doing some other things not well at all because I am doing too much. I would say I am currently earning an 88 in my life when I average a 95. The excess baggage will be cut this year, partly because of the parasite I am carrying who will require I earn a 110 for him or her, and partly because I have a constant migraine from this wall I am forever slamming into.

What should go? Should I make a list and then cross off the players that have no value? How does someone who has always done it all stop?

Introduction to American National Government course

I have been teaching this course for years. Literally, for years. I have had hundreds of students come through my classes. We always do discussions. And they are always heated, but always polite. For some reason this semester I have a class with some Neanderthals who apparently do not know what it means to be polite to people. They attack each other with serious vitriol. So I send an announcement saying, please behave like the adults you are, rather than the children you want to be (or something nicer than that). Now they attack each other via email. It's ridiculous - rigoddamndiculous! I seriously want to send an email to each student and say, are you serious? Are you this stupid? WTF?

ARGH.

Thank you lefty bloggers and conservative talk show hosts for creating an atmosphere in this country where we can't deliberate we can only yell at each other.

Albuquerque

I must have forgotten to take that let turn in Albuquerque....

I love this city. This is the second time I have been here and this time I get to come with my hubby, who of course is my favorite travel partner. It's beautiful here, and they have a tram (ah the horror of a gondola!). They also have the oldest continuous church in the country, it began in 1703. And of course it's Catholic. Smile.

I'm here for a conference, which of course I have yet to attend a panel. Um, my first conference in Savannah, Georgia I went nowhere near the panels. My first conference in Boston I wandered the freedom trail. If it's a neat place, I am out and about.

It's cool here. Neat place.

Trolley Square Shooting

Monday night in Salt Lake City, at a particularly favorite shopping spot of mine, a young man walked in and shot with a shot gun five other people. It was horrifying and it was scary and it was sad. I have been thinking about this for a few days now and a number of things have come up as interesting points to think about as a result.

1. The xenophobia of Utahns, all of whom were quick to point out that the shooter was a refugee from Bosnia, and thus not from here. Not from here.
2. The badness of local media coverage. The broadcast media chose to tell their own story or to interview the same person in three different stories that were supposedly from three different perspectives. The newspaper media chose to run on the front page above the fold a picture of a dead body.
3. The ridiculousness of gun rights conversation. Here in Utah, home of the easiest way to get a gun quickly legislation, the first response to this young man shooting people was not "how'd he get the gun?", it was "if all those people in that mall had a concealed weapon, then they would have been safe." I am someone who is somewhat supportive of gun rights, I think that many people are safe hunters and I think the last thing you want in a society is for the government to be the only one with weapons, but I am also someone who is somewhat supportive of gun control. Seems to me you ought not to be able to get your hands on a shot gun. And - do they seriously think it would be a better idea for a 16 year old girl to be packing at the mall? So she shoots back, then someone thinks she's the shooter, so they shoot her with their concealed weapon, and so on and so on.
4. The bravery of bureaucrats who often get no credit. The hero of the day was an Ogden off duty police officer, yes that's right, from my home town where our mayor would like police officers to have to slam dunk a basketball in order to get their pay. He heard the initial gun shots, looked over the ledge, drew attention to himself so the shooter, instead of killing other people started shooting at him. He is a hero. He is a bureaucrat. He is underpaid: the police officers in Utah can't afford to live in the cities they protect. He should be rewarded for his bravery.

I am sad for these families who have lost their loved ones. I am sad for this young man who somehow got to the place where he felt no other option than to kill people at a mall. I am proud of a police officer who went above and beyond and then said it was just his duty.

Valentine's Day

Today is Valentine's Day and I have a horrible cold that finds me still in my pajamas on my couch with the only love around my puppies. That's a bit depressing. Smile. But my husband came through big time for me. I came upstairs in the morning and found roses, sweethearts, chocolate covered strawberries and the funniest Valentine's card. Now he's gone to the grocery store to buy me soup.

I love him. Lucky lucky me.

My Values

Your Values Profile

Loyalty: You value loyalty a fair amount. You're loyal to your friends... to a point. But if they cross you, you will reconsider your loyalties. Staying true to others is important to you, but you also stay true to yourself. Honesty: You value honesty a fair amount. You're honest when you can be, but you aren't a stickler for it. If a little white lie will make a situation more comfortable, you'll go for it. In the end, you mostly care about "situational integrity." Generosity: You value generosity highly. So much so that you often put your own needs last. There's nothing wrong with having a caring heart... But you may want to rethink your "open wallet" policy. Humility: You value humility a fair amount. You tend to be an easy going, humble person. But occasionally your ego takes over. You have a slight competitive streak - and the need to be the best. Tolerance: You value tolerance highly. Not only do you enjoy the company of those very different from you... You do all that you can to seek it out interesting and unique friends. You think there are many truths in life, and you're open to many of them.

The Five Factor Values Test

The In-Laws Ascend?

I had referred to their arriving as descending, so I suppose I must refer to their leaving as ascending. And, I guess they ascended as they flew home from here.

It was fun. I am exhausted, but it was fun. They got a lot of skiing in. They saw family, other than us, and my father-in-law ran into someone he knew from a hundred years ago. A good time was had by all.

Today Paul and I have about 10 garbage bags to take out. We have many sheets and towels to wash. And generally, getting ourselves wound down from having company. I will particularly enjoy having my car back to drive.

Super Bowl Excitement

Woo hoo. The Colts won the Super Bowl. Here's one team I could give a crap about playing against another team I haven't thought of since the 1980s Super Bowl Shuffle - and didn't someone named the Refrigerator play on that team?

I watched Monk. The Monk Marathon on USA. I got the big television while my husband and his family watched the Super Bowl on the little television. Not that I wouldn't have switched, but they like to stand around for hours looking at a television. Another quirky gene.

Monk was fabulous. So while hero of the moment Peyton Manning destroyed the hopes of Chicago, I watched a neo-Sherlock Holmes solve crimes. Bleh football...although, I must say, I went to Syracuse when Marvin Harrison went to Syracuse, so maybe some small part of me was rooting for the Colts.

Fun at the Game

Last night the family, our friends Thom and Jaynie, and I went to a Wildcats basketball game. Which was great fun and hysterical. My brother-in-law cited Drive Me Crazy - a personal movie fave of mine so I was totally with him - and said he would not cheer Weber State Weber State Great Great Great, but then he stood at the edge of a balcony to catch a thing Waldo was shooting up into the crowd. Which was great because it turned out it was a Wildcat paw which my friend Jaynie has been dying to get this whole season. It's a good thing he was there, and he's nice, because he gave it to her and now she has a paw.

Much fun was had by all!