Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Well...Isn't that sweet (barf)

gold key
You're a little gold key, and you unlock other
people's hearts. Your kindness and
willingness to be there for those you care
about lets people open up to you knowing they
will be accepted. People will rely on you,
but be careful not to give more than you

Monday, February 27, 2006

I'm so conniving that it hurts a little bit.

I think I might need help. I recently found this bargain hunting website that I've maybe become addicted to. And I'm getting greedy. People go to this board to share helpful information on easy ways to get things really cheaply or for free. But these cheap/free things come with certain conditions, like maybe you have to fill out a short survey, or test a product, or it says something about one per household. Any I just sit here and rack my brain for ways to buck the system and maybe end up with two per household.

And the thing is that these aren't necessarily scamming internet companies that promise to pay you twelve cents every time you sign up and give your credit card number to some shady company. Or companies that secretly send spyware and viruses to your computer whilst you peruse their site. Generally it's just some honest company that, you know, wants you to try its product or its service and in turn offers the product free to a limited amount of people, or offers a reward for trying out the service. Or maybe it's just some company having a short-lived blow out sale.

So, here's my shameful story for today. A month or so ago, I signed up for Shape magazine, which I've never read before in my life, because it was $1.99 for a year. It was just on super-duper sale that day. I had a few bucks in my paypal account, and I was tired of living in a periodical-free zone, so I figured, what the heck? A week or so ago, I got my first magazine, the March issue. I looked through it. Not too shabby for less than $.17 per issue. No complaints. But. A couple days later, I got another magazine. The February issue. OK, kind of weird. Whatever. Then, today, I got the January issue. That annoyed me. Yeah, I only paid a couple bucks for the subscription, but still. So, I called their subscription 800 number and complained that they sent me two back issues that I had already purchased from the news stand (which maybe wasn't necessarily true, but, in my opinion, no less shady than them sending me back issues in the first place). They happily extended my subscription for two months. It was a 45-second phone call.

You know, whenever I feel kind of bad about these sorts of things, I just think about the people from this website who will drive hundreds of miles armed with loads of coupons, just because some grocery store in Biloxi is having a triple coupon day, and they get like $400 dollars worth of stuff they might not have otherwise bought for $36. Or I think about the people who drive to every single Walgreens (for instance) in the tri-state area to purchase every available weird-ass item that's on some kind of super-duper-special sale. I'm not as bad as those people. Yet. But keep an eye on me, OK?

Saturday, February 25, 2006


My remote works! My remote works!!! It just needed some time to dry out. But then again, don't we all?

Friday, February 24, 2006

Smokin' in the boys room

Every parent with a newly speaking child can probably attest to the fact that sometimes it's just really hard to understand what they're saying. In fact, sometimes, even if he's said something 100 times, and I've understood it all 100 times, I might not understand it on the 101st time just because I'm only half paying attention to him (sorry, buddy).

Today, we were playing in the living room and I was laying on the floor next to him. All of a sudden, he starts pushing me frantically, saying something that I swear sounded like, "Marlboro light! Marlboro light!! MARLBORO LIGHT!!!" So, I'm thinking DCFS is going to show up at any second to ask Eric what I've been feeding him, and Eric's going to be all*, "Marlboro light! Coffee!" Just effin great.

But, just then, the lightbulb goes off in my head and I realize what he wants. He want me to roll over on my stomach so that he can climb on my back and go for a Mommy-back ride.

* This is an expression that I never use in real life, except to be ironic. But apparently I feel it makes for good blogging. "And I was all, 'I oughta kick yo' ass,' and then she was all, 'You don't wanna mess with me--I'm bad before breakfast.'" I think that's more of a West Coast thing. In the Midwest we say "like" instead of "all," which is clearly much more grammatically correct.

Dear PBS Kids Sprout:

Just a couple questions--

1) On Sesame Street's Journey to Ernie, will Big Bird EVER learn that asking the two-headed monster which way Ernie went will NEVER GET HIM ANYWHERE???

2) Noddy? Noddy?? A garden gnome with a pimp-mobile? Now there's some quality kids programming.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Mea Culpa

Last night I decided to sleep on the couch because I have, like, the Whooping Cough or something, and I didn't want to disturb hubby's sleep. Plus, I could sleep semi-upright more comfortably. But really, I just wanted to watch TV all night long. So I got myself all set up. I got a glass of water and a bag of cough drops in case of middle of the night coughing fits. I got the TV tuned to TLC and I got all snuggled up under some blankets. I watched about three minutes of TV before I fell asleep.

Around 2 a.m. or so, I woke up to some horrendous infomercials. My first instict, rather than to turn off the TV altogether, was, "Oh, I'd better change the channel to something less annoying." So, I reached for the cable remote, which I thought I had placed right next to my pillow, but I couldn't find it. I figured it fell on the floor, but I didn't see it there either. I looked on Eric's little chair. Not there. I felt along the other side of the couch. Not there either. Hmmm. Oh well, I thought, I'll find it in the morning.

Fast forward to about 6:30 a.m. I wake with a terrible coughing fit. I reach for my glass of water and what do I find swimming in it? The remote control. Nice. I did my best to dry it out, but it doesn't appear to be working anymore. I didn't really think it would work, but I was holding out hope. I thought maybe the water would wash away that gooey stuff that got spilled in it last time, causing the numbers to stick. No such luck. Guess I'll have to go get a new one.

RIP, little guy.

The Contest

There seems to be this unspoken contest between Chris and I. It entails who can use up the last of the toothpaste, thus leaving the other to go to the linen closet and get a new tube. I so totally thought I had him when I used a steamroller yesterday to get what I thought was the last of the toothpaste out of the tube. Apparently I was wrong, and there was still enough left for just one more use. Dammit. So, Chris wins this time. But if I were him? I'd sleep with one eye open. I'm just sayin'.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Virtuoso in training?

My little midget and his little midget guitar... Notice the finger position and the pick. He actually strums too. This picture caught him between up and down strokes.

Or perhaps he will play the upright bass?

If he grows up to hate us, it might be warranted.

Eric has one of those winter coats that has a detachable hood. Because the hood is so bulky and makes it difficult to buckle him into the car seat properly, I have removed the hood from the coat in favor of a hat. The hood is still laying around the house though. Eric found it the other day and became intrigued with it.

Now, keep in mind that this boy is obsessed with head coverings. When we go to Target, we have usual rounds that we have to make. The mere act of walking in the door causes Eric to shout, "BasketballFootballBike!" So, at some point during the trip, we must look at the balls and bikes. Of course we can't go near the bikes without seeing the bike helmets. And we can't see the bike helmets without needing to try them on. Also, we can't go in the football aisle without also seeing all the baseball stuff. And, if we see the baseball stuff, it would be a shame not to try on the pink batting helmet (I'm serious--they have pink ones and blue ones, and he MUST try on the pink one). So, this kid understands the concept of helmets. He knows that you need a helmet for football, baseball and riding bikes and motorcycles.

Here's the part that might cause him to hate us at some point. When he found his hood the other day, he showed it to me and I said, "Eric, you found your helmet!" And he really took it to heart.

What do you mean you don't need a helmet for soccer?

Monday, February 20, 2006

Stupid is as stupid does.

Eric hasn't been acting totally normal lately. He's been more grumpy than usual. He gets frustrated easier. He throws tantrums more regularly. Last week, he had a fever for a couple of days, plus he was repeatedly sticking his fingers in his ears, coughing and not sleeping well. So...I took him to the doctor only to be told that absolutely nothing was wrong with him. OK. Some of that behavioral stuff could be developmental, I understand that. And, now he has a cold (his twelveteenth this winter...ugh), so maybe that's part of it too, even though it's not that bad of a cold (I have it too). But, for the past couple of days, he's had a new symptom. Excessive drooling. So, on top of the cold, I think maybe he's also teething.

When he was littler, it was pretty easy to tell if he was teething. I could look in his mouth fairly easily. Now is a different story. He already has a lot of teeth, and is very protective of them. Sometimes I can tip him upside down and get a good look in his mouth as he screams in delight (or terror, as the case may be). So, I've tried that, but I still can't really tell if he's cutting teeth. But the drooling...man, he'd better be cutting teeth or I don't know what I'm going to do with him. Plus, he's been chewing on his hands lately too, which is also something that he doesn't normally do. Must be teeth, right?

So, today, I get the bright idea that maybe it's his second set of molars coming in, and maybe I should feel around back there. So I warn him, "Eric, Mommy's going to feel your gums to see if you have teeth coming in. Please don't bite me." And what does he do? He bites me. HARD. Like, I could've picked up all 27 pounds of him with one finger because he was so well attached to it. Except I was too busy screaming to try that potentially nifty trick. "OW! Eric stop biting! OW OW OW! Let go of my finger! ERIC STOP IT NOW !!!!!" After which, he let go and then proceeded to sob like it was I who bit him.

So he (I think) has a molar coming in, and I have a couple of bruises on my index finger, the general size and shape of baby teeth. The moral of this story is to never stick your finger into the mouth of a toddler, even if you preface the act with, "Please don't bite me." The temptation is just too great. And, because I'm clairvoyant, I know what you're thinking: "No shit, genious."

Friday, February 17, 2006

Coolest Thing Ever?

Check out this website:

You tell it a song or band that you like, and it finds music with similar properties that you should also like. It even goes so far as to describe what makes the song it picked similar to the song you picked. Pretty neat.

As it turns out...

Apparently my list only contains 99 things about me. Oops. So, as not to leave you waiting any longer than necessary:

100. Sometimes I feel I am above proofreading.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

100 Things about me...in no particular order

81. When I was in High School, I was a member of the German Club, despite the fact that I have never in my life studied the German language.

5. I plan to learn to play the piano someday.

26. I also plan to learn to tap dance someday.

31. I hate anything peach or mango flavored. Peach scented doesn't bother me, though.

12. I was an intern at a radio station after I graduated from college. On my first day, Jewel came into the studio and I got her autograph. On my third day, John Meyer came in and nobody gave a damn.

30. I studied Improv at Second City.

34. I took figure skating lessons from the age of 3 to the age of 11. To this day, I still have massive quadriceps and calf muscles, which I attribute to my skating years.

41. I do not see any connection between figure skating and downhill skiing, despite the insistence that if I can skate, I can ski.

68. I prefer Coke to Pepsi, but Pepsi's relatives (Mt. Dew, Wild Cherry Pepsi) to Coke's relatives.

52. I would like to run a marathon someday, but I'm DEATHLY afraid of any sort of repercussions that my toenails could suffer. I might have to cut back to a half-marathon for that reason alone.

51. My toes line up like perfect soldiers.

58. My toilet is running and I just went to catch it.

4. The pants I'm wearing right now cost me $1.97 at Old Navy.

40. I'm more bad with money than I am good. But, I'm working very hard on getting better.

10. I desperately long for a magenta Razr phone.

59. There was a time, a few years back, when I could always be found wearing something red. My friends lovingly referred to me as the Devil.

77. Sometimes (more often than I care to admit) I mistype my married name as "Saeton."

13. Pink. It's my new red.

92. I miss my maiden name.

54. My family calls me "Krist."

56. I am wholely addicted to shopping at Target.

24. One of Eric's first words was "Target."

46. I like to play golf. I took to it very naturally and believe I could play very well if I practiced more often.

82. I majored in General Engineering for 3 semesters at the University of Illinois. My sole purpose in choosing General Engineering as a major was that it had the highest admission standards of any major in the entire university.

7. I subsequently changed my major to Spanish, but planned to transfer into the College of Business once I had taken the classes required for that transfer. One of those required classes was a Speech Communication class. It piqued my interested so much that I became a SpCom major instead.

61. Sometimes I wish I had majored in Theatre.

91. I met my husband at work. The first time we met, we were working at the Field Museum and I was lost.

17. I do not get lost often; I have a keen sense of direction.

1. I'm pretty sure that I think I am funnier than other people think I am.

70. In college I was the local committee president of an organization called AIESEC, which facilitates work abroad.

94. I have never worked abroad myself.

84. I have barely even travelled outside of the US.

72. I wish that weren't the case, and I plan to change that when I have the time/money.

20. I can't shake the feeling that at some point in my life I will have a job that involves some type of stage performance.

15. I enjoy karaoke. (This is not the kind of "performing" I necessarily have in mind, though.)

83. I have been learning to play the guitar for a little over 5 years now, and I'm still not that great.

47. I have two acoustic guitars. One is a Takamine G230 named Romeo. This was my first guitar. The other is a black Ibanez acoustic-electric guitar that I haven't named. It's beautiful, but really hard to play. Also, Chris has 5 electric guitars, Eric has a mini-guitar, we all have a collective acoustic guitar that my dad gave us and we have a banjo that has barely been touched. I think we're covered as far as strings go.

43. I have one brother, and we don't really get along that well, but it's getting a little better as we get older.

22. I keep trying to be less addicted to drinking pop and I keep failing.

16. I love David Sedaris. My favorite book of his is Me Talk Pretty One Day.

93. My early childhood nickname was "Spud the Amazing Potato Baby."

71. I prefer Letterman to Leno.

69. The only time I ever asked a guy out was in HS. This guy lived really far away and I asked him to Homecoming. He said no. I vowed never to ask another guy out for as long as I live. So far I haven't.

97. A year later, that guy sent me a letter saying how stupid he had been to turn me down, and how much he regretted his decision. I wrote back saying he should come visit...and meet my boyfriend.

6. I never dated until I went to college because, presumably, boys find me scary.

76. I sleep with a stuffed Garfield that is close to twenty years old.

50. Chris usually goes to bed before me. Sometimes I find him cuddled up with my cat. I then proceed to yank the cat away in some fashion that will surely disrupt his precious slumber. That's what he gets for messing with the G'field.

80. Despite the fact that I was born at the ass-end of 1979, I still think people who were born in 1980 or later are SO MUCH younger than me.

87. I make a mean chicken parmesan.

38. I don't really cook that often, but it's not because I'm a bad cook.

32. I hate washing dishes.

39. I don't mind vacuuming, but currently my baby is deathly afraid of the vacuum cleaner.

64. My current pop addiction is A&W Sparkling Vanilla Cream Soda.

74. I'm growing my hair out right now so that I can donate 10" to Locks of Love.

19. I CAN'T WAIT to cut my hair short!!!!

67. I like the smell of freshly cut grass.

29. I like living where I live, but I still miss living in Lincoln Park.

8. I have a few superstitions.

88. I've never gone to a psychic, but I think it would be fun.

33. I love my Senseo coffee maker. The thing that I perhaps love best about it is that I got it free through their "Drop the Drip" promotion.

75. I love thin crust pizza.

78. I love Diesel shoes.

11. I used a random number generator to make this list.

45. I secretly hope it kind of annoys you that the numbers are out of order.

96. I don't watch much TV.

25. I do watch Grey's Anatomy and am in love with Dr. McDreamy.

27. George is probably more my type, though.

42. I can't believe I haven't come up with 100 things yet. This is much harder than it looks.

63. I have one son. He's 21 months old. I currently have absolutely no desire to have more children or ever be pregnant again.

48. Labor was WORLDS more painful than delivery.

55. I had an epidural, which was neither scary nor painful. It was simply heavenly. I give epidurals a glowing recommendation.

60. I can't stand the texture of almost all types of fruit.

9. I enjoy the flavor of most fruit juices.

21. I have glasses with non-prescription lenses (i.e., non-tinted sunglasses) that I wear sometimes because I wish I wore real glasses.

57. I think the right glasses can make a person infinitely more sexy.

18. People have explained to me that poor vision is not a cause for celebration, and I fully understand that.

98. I hate the winter, or any type of weather that calls for the use of a coat.

99. I would not consider moving out of Chicago based on weather alone.

90. Was the speed at which I was clocked when I got my one and only speeding ticket. I don't usually drive 90, or anywhere near that fast, but I was passing a car whose liberal interpretation of lane usage was making me very nervous.

79. Was a good year.

37. I will never, ever, ever live in Florida.

23. I would rather not even visit Florida, but I have too many relatives that live there.

14. I would like to lose 30 pounds (to be back at pre-Eric weight).

2. Is the number of piercings I have. One in the right ear and one in the left.

95. I don't plan to ever be tattooed.

44. Chris and I tend to name our possessions. His car is Eddie and my car is Sancho. My guitar is Romeo. His guitars have names too, but they aren't coming to me right now. Heck...even our guitar tuner has a name--Charlie. Charlie Tuner. Get it?

73. I'm the queen of bad puns.

35. Doctors terrify me. Except the sweetie pie with the 2' long epidural needle.

53. I don't own any diamonds.

65. I should like to own one some day. Maybe something like this, or better yet, this.

62. I really like mother of pearl and abalone.

3. I have a permanent retainer behind my bottom teeth.

49. One of my thumbs seems to be double jointed.

85. I have never broken a bone.

66. One of Eric's favorite phrases is "COME ON!" Want to know why? This, apparently, is what I say to other drivers who decide to drive to slowly in front of me.

28. I'm a TOTAL geek.

89. I have dated one confirmed and two highly suspected gay guys. (Apparently I'm not as scary to the gay guys.)

86. In college I worked at Target for two days (training days) and then quit by not showing up ever again. Oops.

36. Is a square number and is also divisible by 3, which makes me happy because I like The Math.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Heart attack on a plate.

So, I shamed Chris into going to the doctor today. He was not, in fact, having a heart attack. He either has a tear in his diaphragm (if he ends up pregnant, I'm going to be so pissed off), or stress-induced acid reflux. We celebrated the good news by having chili dogs for dinner.

Further Updates

Absolutely nothing is wrong with Eric. Well, except that he's 21 months and prone to irritating toddler behavior. And that he has a little bit of fluid behind his ear from a cold that he had--but the ear is not infected. The doctor that we saw today we've also seen on one other occasion, but he's not Eric's normal doctor. This guy takes a "the body will heal itself" approach to medicine. On one hand, I can appreciate that because I pretty much take that approach myself. On the other hand, if I reach the point where I feel the need to consult a doctor, I don't want that doctor to act like I'm overreacting to my baby's mysterious symptoms. He gave me a perscription in case anything gets worse, but basically said that Eric looks just fine.

In other news, Chris is experiencing chest pains, but won't see a doctor. He insists it's not a heart attack (even though he says it feels like one) because it's been going on for a few days now and has yet to kill him (clear proof). He thinks it's just anxiety attacks. Oh, is that all? You're right. No need to be seen--I mean, if it only feels like a heart attack... Good thing it's not and that you are fine.

I'm not the only one who thinks he's crazy. Apparently he told his boss that he might need to take off early tomorrow to go to the doctor, because of said chest pains. His boss said something like, "Uh, dude? Go today." I don't think it was an act of compassion. I think it was an act of "you're no good to us dead." But still. Go to the Doctor. You're no good to me dead, either.

No Fun. Just the Facts.

I'm working on a really long, informative, scintillating post. I don't know when I'll be able to finish it though. In order to appease the masses [ha!], this is just a status update post so you can't go all, "when are you going to write something?" on me.

Something is wrong with Eric. I'm thinking it's probably an ear infection. I don't know... I'm taking him to the doctor at 10:45. You wouldn't believe what [who] I had to do in order to get a doctor to agree to stick a fucking otoscope in Eric's ear. I know--that's tough stuff. I might even take up six minutes of the doctor's time. Plus, as an added bonus, I get to pay $20 for that. If I got paid no less than $20 every six minutes, I'd stick an otoscope wherever the hell you wanted me to stick it. Well, maybe not anywhere.

On a different note, Chris bought me the first season of Grey's Anatomy for Valentine's Day, furthering my love for both him and Patrick Dempsey. What more could a girl ask for? I think I'll keep him.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Wherein I give credit where credit is due

Dear Anonymous Commenters (aka "Peanut Gallery"):

A quarterly review shows that my readership is up no less than 3%. I can only attribute this to you, the Peanut Gallery, based your comments which are nothing short of mindnumbingly hilarious. If you can keep up the good work for the rest of the fiscal year, you might just find a little something special in your stockings this Christmas (think: Fecalgram™ )!


P.S. I should like to label my three main anonymous commenters as follows: one shall simply be known as "AC," which is short for "Anonymous Commenter"...or is it? Another shall be called "AC Slater," based on his status as the Mario Lopez Fan Club President. The third, who generally identifies himself anyway, I shall call "The Phantom of the Fopera," because he's here, inside my mind. Or something like that.

P.P.S. Thanks to everyone who actually reads my blog, anonymous commenters and otherwise, I do so appreciate it.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Those adorable French...

Did you know that in French, there is no word for "seventy," per se? Instead they say "soixante-dix," (soixante rhymes with croissant, which I'm not even going to get into, and dix is pronounced like a vampire might say "this") which literally means sixty-ten. Seventy-one is actually sixty-eleven, and so on. OK, so here's the part I love most about French. After sixty-ten comes four-twenties, and after four-twenties comes four-twenties-ten. Perhaps my favorite French number is quatre-vingt-dix-neuf (pronounced cot[insert guttural hacking up a hairball noise here]-ven-dees-noof), or 99. The literal translation would be "four-twenty-ten-nine." Love it. Although, I must admit that I'm a bit perplexed by the fact that a people who can't even be bothered to pronounce half the letters in their words would exercise such verbosity when counting. I'm just saying.

Sometimes I like to purposely mispronounce French words and misuse them. Like I might sing the following song:

SOIX-aaaaaante. You don't have to put on the red light.
SOIX-aaaaaante. You don't have to wear that dress tonight.
Soixante/Put on the red light...Soixante/Put on the red light

But that's just me.

Notice: Neither Sting nor the Police were notified of the butchering of their song, so just zipit. Capeesh?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

A Story For Desmond

OK, so I have this friend Desmond** who's maybe a little bit weird. Maybe. A little bit. But, for the most part, it's an endearing sort of weird--the type of weird that might cause people to refer to him as "eccentric," or "a real character." It likely explains how he's been able to put up with me over the years...'cause, you know, I'm crazy like a fox.

Anyhoo. Desmond told me a random bit of information about himself once, a long time ago, and for some reason, I've always remembered it. He told me that when he was a child, he would eat a hotdog in such a way that it would annoy his mother. Instead of eating it like a normal person might eat a hotdog, from one end to the other, he would eat it like a sandwich. He would take bites from the middle, compromising the structural integrity of the faux meat. And I remember thinking, as he told me this, "Wow. Desmond was even weird as a kid."

So, I made a hotdog for Eric for lunch today. (Shut up. He does not always eat hotdogs. Besides, it was organic and I grew it myself in my geodesic dome.) Apparently my kid's on the road to being a weirdo too, because take a look at this:

This is the Desmond. I think he just did a shot of something that was supposed to taste like some portion of Aunt Sally's Christmas Dinner. Sometimes I like to tell people that he is my Latin Lover, even though it's an out and out lie. But that's OK, because every girl ought to have a Latin Lover, no? Anyway, I'm posting his picture without any sort of permission whatsoever. Take that, D.


Tuesday, February 07, 2006

I need an exercism.

That's right, an exercism. Not an exorcism--far as I know, I'm not possessed (much). An exercism, ladies and gents, involves some sort of brainwashing/hypnotizing which causes me to believe that eating healthy foods and exercising are worthwhile activities, and further provides me with the motivation to engage in such activities. Does anyone know where I could get such a thing?

Monday, February 06, 2006

Singing Babies and Fluffy Kittens

Eric is just starting to sing, and I must admit, it's just a little too adorable for words. He only sings a few songs so far, but it's already an eclectic group, from Mozart (*ahem*) to classic children's music to Thin Lizzy to Slayer. Or was it the Beach Boys? I never can tell them apart. ;)

The best part about this is the way Eric "sings" these songs. First of all, he only sings the words he likes. Secondly, it comes off sounding more like he's demanding that a particular song be sung to him, rather than that he's singing...but, I think this is just a precursor to really figuring out how to sing. Anyway, here are some of Eric's favorite songs:

"Twinkle twinkle star!"
"Rowrow boat?"
"I'ma justa COWBOY."
"Bababa ran!"

Oh, and for those of you who are wondering where the fluffy kittens come in, they don't really. They're just cute, that's all. Like singing babies are cute. Oh fine. Here you go.