cranky pixels

Guess where I’m posting? The office! We finally have internet access. You probably thought we had ironed that whole thing out a couple of months ago, and to that I can only say: so did we. Turns out, a roof mounted antenna? Doesn’t work so well when the building owners decide to redo the roof. But everything’s working gorgeously now, and I am a happy, happy girl. Our ISP, Stephouse Networks, has been just amazingly proactive and helpful during this whole process. I kind of want to bake them something. If you need DSL and you’re in the Portland area, that’s who I’d tell you to call.

Today was a fun, fun, exciting trip to the optometrist to make sure my contacts are working right (they are), followed by an impulse side-trip to Nordstrom to see if any of the bras that fit me were on sale (they weren’t). Wearing an enormous bra is not nearly as much fun as one might think. The styles available in a 38D can be described as “utilitarian” at best. Plus, almost all of them involve underwire. I used to wear underwire with no problem, but that was back when I was a B cup and could sashay into any lingerie section and choose my brassiere based on things like how cute it was and whether it gave me cleavage. Now, the massive weight of my breasts makes underwire press uncomfortably into my ribcage. Ah, lactating. How I do love it.

After that fortifying experience, Happy Fun Baby and I traipsed over to the office, where I spent the better part of two hours updating software. Now that everything is all current, I get the novel experience of being able to actually work. From work! It’s crazy, I know, but it just might catch on.

The next step in the evolution of the office: acquire seating, preferably of the “mod futon” variety. Right now Happy Fun Baby is crashed out on my lap, drooling gently onto my shirt. I’d like to be able to set him down every now and again. Just for kicks. You know.

Our office kind of rocks, even if there’s not really anything in it except a desk and a bunch of books. What more do you need, really?

technorati tags:bra, 38d, isp, stephouse, dsl, baby, office

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At 11 months (well, almost), Happy Fun Baby’s vocabulary is at a whopping four words: “ghee” for “kitty,” “luh” for “love,” “ba” for “ball” and “da” for “yeah.” “Do you want to go downstairs?” I ask. “Da,” says the baby. It’s like living with a little Russian diplomat.

I’m pretty sure yesterday (and today)’s crying jags are tooth-related. A couple of times today the baby has, apropos of nothing, put his hands to his mouth and wailed. I feel so bad for him, but I don’t know what I can do aside from offering snuggles and the occasional dose of Tylenol, which he sucks down like a little addict. Do you remember when medicine tasted bad? This cherry-flavored baby crack is not exactly off-putting. On the other hand, do I want to wrestle with my child before he will take his painkillers? No I do not.

The Code Fairy (aka my inimitable husband, who loves it when I call him a fairy) performed some sort of magic on my Buzzverb site and now it works gorgeously. I’ve posted the second of my 30 Days of Writing Links: if you’re doing NaNoWriMo (or even if you’re not) you should check it out. I’m not collecting all these links for my health, people.

I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year (seriously, where would I find the time?) but I am all enamoured of a new manuscripting application. I downloaded the Scrivener beta yesterday, and it is, in fact, all that and a bag of chips. If you write novels, you know that Word is somewhat lacking in its outlining capabilities; I’ve always needed to either print out my notes and ideas so that I can refer to them while writing or have lots of windows open, neither of which is an optimal solution. And changing the order of chapters? Not exactly painless. Scrivener addresses these concerns and more. I’m digging the hell out of it. I may even do some work on the novel I started a couple of years ago and then abandoned in favor of sleep deprivation and mood swings. Er, I mean, parenthood. Stranger things have happened, you know.

technorati tags:scrivener, manuscript, writing, buzzverb, teething, tylenol, baby, nanowrimo, code fairy

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The baby woke up at 8am and spent the morning in a series of meltdowns. He’s begun stomping his feet when he’s angry or frustrated. It’s incredibly cute and incredibly endearing and doesn’t he need to be a little older before temper tantrums come into play?

About an hour ago he stopped crying long enough to nurse and then fell fast asleep. It’s no wonder he’s tired; he was up all last night doing the back-arch crying routine. I’d guess what was bothering him (teeth? sinuses? dreams?) but at this point it seems almost silly, like when I talk for my cat. “I hate it when you talk for me,” says Nick. See?

If I were clever I’d take this scream-free moment to do some housework, but I am not clever. I am also not fed. My fortifying lunch of chips and salsa did not completely fortify me. I know, I’m shocked too.

Apparently Last.fm introduced a bunch of new features today, not that I’d know from the lack of announcement. You’d think that announcing things would be important, wouldn’t you? There’s a space for events now, which I guess is exciting, but the thing that made me squee was the Taste-o-meter, which measures your “musical compatibility” with your friends. Kitschy? Yes. But so widget-tastic!

I checked my MySpace account today (yes, I know, I don’t know why either) and found the most unexpected message ever in my inbox:

I went to high school with you, and I always thought you were a great girl. Sorry if I didn’t say that to you back then. You have a gorgeous family, and I hope you are as happy as you look in your pictures!

Wow. She was one of the popular kids, too. Neat!

Speaking of neat: my pet project, Buzzverb, launched today. There was about as much fanfare as you’d expect for something no one’s heard of. Excitingly, once the site went live I discovered a fun little quirk wherein the first entry on the front page is posted with the formatting stripped. Which…doesn’t so much work for me, seeing as formatting is sort of important. There is a place to tell the theme not to do that, but it is feeling peevish and refuses to play. I went to the theme’s forums to see if I could find help, but – wouldn’t you know it? – the forums are down today. So, bah. But hey, if you or anyone you know needs a copywriter, check out Buzzverb. And pretend it works.

technorati tags:buzzverb, last.fm, myspace, sleep, baby, high school

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Last night I wandered upstairs, dejected. “I guess we can’t afford a jogging stroller right now,” I said. I’d spent the day perusing eBay and a parade of high-end stroller brands was marching through my head: Maxi Cosi, Bugaboo, Maclaren, Inglesino. We’d figured out earlier that we could afford $150 for a stroller but just barely, and then I remembered that I still need the book for my current class and that’s $50 at least. A decent jogging stroller for under $100 including shipping? Not gonna happen.

“I guess not,” said Not So.

I didn’t mention that I’d placed a bid on a seriously cute Combi in Key Lime (it would match my backpack, you see) because why bother? My max was like $65 and the stroller retails for between $229 and $300 and the auction was set to end at 8am (when I am so, so not awake). There was no chance in hell that I’d win it.

Except…I did!

Look how pretty….all green and gray and sporty. With shipping? $95. I am. So. Cool.

technorati tags:ebay, stroller, combi, yay, jogging, baby, bargain

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Our shirts from GoodStorm finally came! We’re using them for shirts for the business, and we’re really pleased with how everything turned out. Behold:

Check out the CouldBe Studios storefront if you want one yourself. Which you totally do.

I also have shirts and whatnot that you can get through Zazzle. Click the Swag link at the top of the page if you want to check those out.

/gratuitous pimping

technorati tags:couldbe, shirts, goodstorm, zazzle

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I was pushing the stroller past a wall of windows when I caught sight of my reflection. It was startling: I look like a mom. Not in the whole “Hey, look at that, I have a baby!” sense, but as in “Wow, when did I completely lose all sense of style and individuality?” There I was, hair all flyaway, no makeup, wearing a pale green v-neck with milk stains on the front, faded size 16 blue jeans (cuffed out of necessity rather than aesthetics), and white sneakers. Let me say this again: white sneakers.

Like everyone else who has not yet spent nine months straight in a uniform of sweats and oversized tee shirts, I had definite pre-baby ideas about what kind of mom I would be, and many of these ideas involved outfits. There would be the “going to the park” outfit (cute capris, butterfly-sleeve tee, headband), the “playgroup” outfit (v-neck shirt, dark-rinse jeans, strappy sandals), the fall “duck pond” outfit (knee-length boots, pencil skirt, soft brown sweater, possibly a hat of some sort). I would not succumb to the lure of schleppy, unflattering clothes. Not me.

The last known pre-pregnancy picture of me. Note the brand spanking new boots,
which I had been coveting for months and finally – finally! – was able to afford.
Note also: irony.

I was cute. I had good hair. I fit into my shoes. I mean, seriously. What pregnancy god did I piss off to gain a shoe size and be forced to get rid of my entire shoe collection? Because if I find that god, I intend to have some words.

Now I don’t wear outfits; I have uniforms. There’s the hot day uniform (pants rolled to the knees, flip flops, one of Not So’s wifebeaters). There’s the not-hot day uniform (jeans, tee shirt, sneakers). And there’s the not leaving the house so who cares uniform (sweats). The not leaving the house uniform is especially convenient because it can transition seamlessly from waking to sleeping with only minimal adjustment.

I hate that I look like a mom, but being a mom? Pretty kick ass. I wake up every morning to a smiling baby who can’t wait until I open my eyes and spend a half hour snuggling and singing the “Good morning!” song. I get to watch him staring wide-eyed at the world and then looking to me to explain it. I get open-mouthed baby kisses and raspberries and snuggles and bouncy baby dances. It’s no contest, really.

But I still wish the uniforms were more flattering.

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We had a wee bit of “extra” money this month, so I hit the discount stores and managed to find not only a pair of jeans ($5.50! Marked down from $44!) but also some shoes. Allow me to have a moment of silence for my formerly glorious shoe collection; I now own one – count them, one – pair of shoes in the proper size. What is that size, you ask? Why, 9 1/2! A full size larger than the “on the large side” shoes I wore before my pregnancy. A half size larger than what I thought my feet were before spending the day trying things on and thinking “How odd…they still pinch.”

Having shoes that fit has sparked a renewed interest in walking. Funny thing: pinched toes? Not so good for the motivation. But I am all about the walking now. Unfortunately the umbrella stroller is exactly the wrong height for long walks. I’m hunched over just enough to jack not only my lower back but my shoulders and neck as well. We trekked all over downtown the other day and last night my neck hurt so much I could barely sleep. Is a jogging stroller too much to ask? Nothing fancy; I don’t need a Bob (although, dude, if I were in the mood to covet? They are almost as covet-worthy as a Bugaboo. Which I also do not need, as I am forced to remind myself on an almost daily basis). In fact, the one I want is relatively inexpensive (especially at Baby Depot, although apparently they don’t carry it online). Perhaps I will abjectly beg ask for one for Christmas. Or the baby’s birthday. Because the baby totally wants a jogging stroller.

We went out today to look at office stuff today, and I wore my new shoes and my new pants. (It’s too bad I don’t have a new midsection to go with them; that would really be nice.) The office is coming along, slowly. The desk was finally delivered (yay!) and we’re in the process of getting liability insurance and then internet access, at which point we’ll set up the computer on the new desk and be good to go. Which is probably a horribly backward way of doing things, but what are you going to do, right? I’ve got so many ideas for making the space look pretty and I’m antsy to start making some money. This staying home with the baby thing? It’s nice, but I miss getting a paycheck. And having more than one pair of shoes.

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