Thursday, July 31, 2008

Short Shorts Summer Tour 2008

When they walked into the bar in Pendleton an hour late, three out of seven Maldives were wearing white v-neck t-shirts. Tim stood in a corner talking to Lindsey for a minute while Chris Z fiddled with things that needed to fit together and magically become an instrument and a place to sit, and Jason wandered in looking like he'd been sleeping in the van. After Ryan pulled his drum set out of its cases, I started taking pictures. His drums were gold and sparkly and new, with a sticker of the Maldives logo on it. It was still light out, but the curtains were drawn so all the pictures came out blurry and a little psychedelic, which I liked.

In Snowbird, Utah, the next day, there were still three Maldives in white v-neck t-shirts, but not the same three. Same shirts maybe, you couldn't help but think that to yourself, but different guys wearing them, except for Ryan. In the hotel room later, he tried to claim that his hair was clean, but I was sitting on the bed behind him and said "Nuh-uh," and instead of arguing, he turned around and grinned. At least that's how I choose to tell the story.

Dirty hair: the proof. He's still cute, though.

We had been talking about Ryan's hair the day before, too, the girls and I. Before Pendleton, or Boise, or the truck stop in Blackfoot Idaho, which I was pretty sure I had been in before because I knew right where the popsicle cooler was going to be. We were talking about Ryan's hair in Soap Lake, at the motel that was all made out of logs and had rooms with themes like House of Poverty, and trains and Old Mexico. Lindsey and Kate and me were all in the tub in the middle of the living room, and Dena was sitting on the edge, drinking tequila out of the bottle.

We didn't spend much time that night talking about the boys. Well, I did notice that I said one non-Ryan-boy's name a few too many times but no one called me on it. Other than that, we talked about books and mix CDs and chicken-fried steak and being chased around the parking lot by a car with a busted-out window, and how the lake water smelled like frogs, and what we were going to sing at karaoke. But we did also talk a little about how cute the boys are. We always talk about how cute the boys are. Even when they're not.

"I can't wait to see Ryan," I said, "I haven't seen him in ages."
"Have you seen him since he got his hair cut?" Lindsey asked.
"Mmmm... I'm not sure, I think so."

With the way it's always crammed under a bandana he's using as a headband, or some hat that looks like it was jammed in someone's toolbox, it can be hard to tell if you are looking at a haircut or not. I've never been sure whether the fact that "greasy hair" is a popular search term for this blog is Ryan's fault, or B's. They are both candidates. Still, I often tell people "Ryan always looks dirty, but he usually smells like soap. Ivory soap." The girls I tell this to believe me, because they want to.

In the room in Snowbird, when he was sitting on my bed, I couldn't help but think about this as I wondered whether the shirt he was wearing was the same shirt as yesterday or not. He was watching TV, and I was watching him. He didn't turn around when I started talking, even though I said, "So, Ryan." Dena and Lindsey were on the other bed, and they looked over, but he kept watching Final Destination 2, or whatever movie it is where the topless girls fry to death in the tanning beds after their Big Gulps spill and short-circuit the temperature controls.

What I wanted to know was what he had wanted when he got that haircut. I mean, what did he ask for? Because what he got was one of those haircuts that does not look like a haircut at all. It looked like a couple or seven months of being stoned at the beach, after a high school graduation haircut. Was that what he wanted?

I had spent the first two days on the road thinking a lot about what people want. Kate wanted a cola slushie, Lindsey wanted to see the giant Lava Lamp, Dena wanted to write in the TJ. We all wanted a diner breakfast and I wanted to drive. And then drive some more.

The same, only shorter. And cut with a razor. That's what Ryan wanted. The next day at the pool, Kate told us about her friend who, every summer, picks a different obscure celebrity to model her summer look on. Last year, it was Rizzo from Grease. Kate didn't know who it was this summer, but I like to think it could have been Stevie Nicks or Babe Paley in the Bahamas or early Faye Dunaway. Ryan was there again, in cut-off shorts and velcro sneakers and a farmer's tan. The white t-shirt was there too, but tossed over the arm of the chair he was stretched out in. I told him he looked like that song "Love the One You're With".

The night before, some guy in the sushi bar who described himself as an ex-hippy lawyer, had walked by Dena's husband Jessie and made some comment about Stephen Stills. That's who sings that song, which is, by the way, my favorite song of the summer. You're So Vain is a close second, but that's more like the theme song of our imaginary girl band than a favorite song. Love the One You're With is the song I keep catching myself humming under my breath.

And that's all I'm gonna say about that. For now.

Unflattering photo of me, just to be fair. Kate looks funny and cute, though, I think.

He's like the anti-Christ(ian)

I am totally trademarking 'diaperlicious'...

So the new season of Project Runway totally snuck up up on me. Since I can't think about clothes for myself (still working on the post-babies belly), I guess I was distracted by the onesies fashions that are currently dominating my fashion brain and I barely realized that it was time for a new season!

I watch all the Bravo shows where they typically publicize the hell out of theses things... and I guess I must have fast-forwarded through the marketing campaign with my DVR...

Any hoo, first let me say that it is totally unfair that Heidi Klum has had three babies under the age of five and looks the way she does. I am really hoping that she is rocking some Spanx under those mini-skirts... but somehow I doubt it.

Tim Gunn was… well, Tim Gunn. I am sad that he is no longer a Dean at Parsons, because - as an alumni - I thought that it was nice to imagine someone so constructively critical on the faculty there. But good for him to get the big corporate bucks!

I hope he gets a lovely pied a terre in Paris!

I recently found out that he was unpaid for the first season and got only $2500 an episode for the second season, so I totally understand him cashing in on the show's success. At least on Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, he makes sure the clothes fit the makeover victims properly, as opposed to some other shows.. where everyone looks all wackadoo and have camel toes all over the place.

Wait, there's only one place you can have a camel toe, but you know what I mean.

Anyhoo, in the first episode I especially loved when he popped the cork for the champagne at the beginning and it went over the side of the building. And the look of abject horror on his face. Hee!

This season, they have the usual assortment of: Rocker Designer, Avante Garde Minimalist Designer, Wackadoo Character ‘Self-taught’ Designer, Heterosexual Male Designer, Whimsical Chick with Tattoos Designer, Former Model Designer… and so on and so forth ad nauseum.

Oh, wait! There’s no Overweight Queenie Designer this season! Shocking!

I don’t want to talk too much about the challenges, in case you haven’t seen them yet, but I loved seeing Austin Scarlet in the first episode. He is so delightfully glamorous and twee. I think he wears about five times more make-up than I do. Actually, he wears five times more make-up than anyone I know does.

In a bizarre turnaround, my least favorite character of the season started out as Blayne from…. Seattle. It made me sad that I couldn't be all psyched for a hometown hero, but his ‘obsession with tanning’, hideous diaper outfit (if only he’d really used real diapers!) and constant attempt to create a catchphrase… by adding 'licious' to the end of virtually any word, just plucked at my very last nerve! It’s bad enough to use a phrase made popular by the Pussycat Dolls (Girlicious in the first episode... don’t get me started…), but to attach it to an outfit that is anything but girlicious is absurd. He should have called the outfit diaperlicious!

Now he has totally grown on me.

He's like the bizarro Christian Siriano. Where Christian was all tiny, dark haired and pale and twee and bitchy... he's all tiny, blond and tan and twee and bitchy. I am not sold on the idea that he has Christian's level of talent (he loves the neon colors a bit too much for my taste and doesn't necessarily have Christian's tailoring skills) but he makes for some entertaining moments.

My other favorite characters? Stella, who loves the 'leathuh' and reminds me of Biker Cher Barbie. I don't think she'll win, because clothing made from leather is one-trick-pony kind of fashion... but she's definitely a character... And Kenley, who I think could be a winner.

She's got this retro style that is totally appealing and yet she manages to turn out outfits that are refreshing and original AND appear well made. When Tim is all afraid that your outfit is going to look to 'costume-y' because of the fabrics you've chosen and you still manage to pull off a win... that looks awesome and original and anything but costume-y, I think you've got mad skills!

Now, my least favorite character is Suede.. I can't take someone referring to themselves in the third person constantly. It just feels like he's trying too hard - especially with his faux-hawk. Eck.

You can't rock the faux-hawk unless you are under the age of ten, your mama is Angelina Jolie, and our name ends in an 'x'.

Suffice to say, I think it is going to be an awesome season.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

All Vids, All the Time

Four girls, four nights, 1,931 miles and a whole lotta this. Just watching Kate and Lindsey laugh makes me laugh again. More on Short Shorts Summer Tour soon.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Love at first bite

Thomas and Max... different approaches to eating...

We fed the boys their first bites of solid food over the weekend. I use the word 'solid' loosely, since it was rice cereal mixed with breastmilk until it was practically the consistency of breastmilk.

I was woefully ill prepared for the whole thing - the only appropriate spoon I had was a little plastic measuring spoon, the only bibs were the camo bibs provided by our Vermont neighbors, and the batteries in the video camera were dead. You'll notice that the bowls aren't exactly the adorable sets that we received from Terri.

Bad Mommy.

Max was very mellow about the whole thing and took it all in stride, just slurping down whatever was tipped into his mouth, with minimal squishing out and leakage.

Thomas, on the other hand, was indignantly hungry and.. umm... complaining to start with. Then, once he realized that the stuff was FOOD he sucked it right down and pulled the spoon out of my hand.

All in all, it was pretty adorable. Wait til we start vegetables... I have a feeling that will make for good photos!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Take that!

Enough patterns to make your eyes hurt! If you cross your eyes, it's 3-D!

Not much to report here... we went to Vermont last weekend and had a thunderstorm so violent that it knocked out our phone service and may very well have fried our computer!

Not that I was writing many posts in Vermont, but I liked thinking that I could, if I found the time...

The rest of the weekend was just nice and relaxing, just hanging out with the neighbors and pawning my kids off on them. Hehe. Wanna hold a baby? Got a glass of wine?

On our way up, we stopped and saw a cousin of Eugene's who has a newborn (five days old!) She's the same size Max was when he was born and I couldn't believe how tiny she was. It was like holding a feather and it made my sweet four-month-old boys seem like brutes!

The boys are doing great - they had a well baby visit to the Doctor's last week and are - in her words - thriving. 13.5 and 14.6 lbs of luuuuvvvv! Poor niblets had to have shots though, and that was not fun. Not. Fun. At. All.

At the Doctor's office, Max wonders, "Where does that needle go?"
Thomas just continues to enjoy his fist-cicle.

They continue to do funny twin things - cooing at each other, cuddling up in the crib and, believe it or not, sucking on each others' hands. See photo above.

It's odd, but cute.

Apparently, not all twins do these things. I met a woman with nine-month-old twin boys in Central Park a couple of weeks ago and she said that her boys barely acknowledge each other. Not a problem here!

That same day, we had a picnic with a bunch of my friends from work, so the boys got their flirt on with all the lovely ladies.

Max says, "oh yeah, I loves the ladies... the ladies and the thumb... I loves the thumb too..."
Thomas just wants to be left alone with his Margaret. Go away paparazzi!

It was our second picnic in Central Park. It's now my new favorite way of getting together with our friends from downtown. I can't really cart the boys to the East Village (giant stroller and whatnot... not to mention the nasty looks I am guessing we'd get...) but the park is a good compromise.

We'll see how soon everyone gets tired of it.

Any hoo, I have a post on the new season of Project Runway coming soon.

I know! It's crazy that there is a new season right now, right? Yup, I just have to remember to e-mail it to myself.

My three braincells are tired now and must sleep. Glad to see you are having a nice summer!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Going On

Berry shortcake for breakfast with Susan, then picnic by the lake. Why don't I ever have a bathing suit in my car? To be remedied immediately.

Friday, July 18, 2008

I Can't, I've Got Band Practice

More summer here. I'm living by a rule right now - do something summery every day. Watermelon or fresh corn for dinner, popsicles, drinks outside with the excellent book club ladies, picnic in Discovery Park with happy B, a walk to sushi dinner with Susan, leisurely and confessional... Haven't had enough swimming yet, but I think I'll get to that. Late-night, preferably. Sneaking down to the beach, giggling, then riding home in the car before your bathing suit dries.

On the agenda this weekend - just... more.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Melancholy Monday

Those boys are amazingly cute. I love the way one of them is always happy in the photos, and one is always crying. I wonder if being a twin would help you learn how to resist the influence of someone else's mood? Like, since you grew up being smiley when your twin was crying, you would be able to weather everyone else's bad moods more easily too?

That's all I got. For today. 

Monday, July 14, 2008

It was one year ago...

Thomas has a hippo towel

Max has a lamb

It was a year ago on Independence Day, that I found out I was pregnant and it was a year ago today that I found out it was twins.

Today I found out that one of my good friends from work is pregnant with twins, identical like mine. Something in the water? Cosmic joke?

Actually, I think it's the best thing ever - giant double strollers, interrupted movies and sleepless nights notwithstanding.

I love the little boogers.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

As it turns out...




I did manage to take some pictures
that perfectly captured the Jersey Shore scene...

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Dear Mama

Where was this photographer when I was a baby?

It is not accidental that I had this photo on hand when I noticed the similarity between the boys' smiles and Heather's infant smile.

This is quite possibly my favorite photo.


It makes me soooo jealous that there is no similar image of you holding me! The sweetness in Heather's hapless grin, the obvious smitten-ness on your face. Every time there is a photo taken of me and the boys, I aspire to that kind of single-minded adoration.

Also, may I mention how very fetching you look?

Hot Mama! Sweet sunglasses!

Do you still have those? I'm digging them.

When I was going to my lamaze classes, they told us to select images to take with us - to focus on during labor. An 'eyes on the prize' sort of thing.

Guess which image I chose?

Another photo I just love

2 week old Max must have done something reeeeaaallly hystrical!

I think this says everything about the fun we had while you were here and your sense of humor and general laid-backness about the boys - which really helped me keep my feet under me after you left.

I appreciate you making me get out and about that crisp afternoon - even if it was only to the park next door. I needed to find my boundaries and expand them.

Or risk being a shut in my entire maternity leave. Megh! That would have been awful!

I do blame you for the mental list I had every day that was my measure of success... it was a love/hate thing - but necessary for me to stay motivated.

Breakfast? Check! Contact Lenses? Check! Pee? Check! Shower? Mmmmm... Changed clothes? Check!

And so on...

Also, I cannot watch The Duchess of Duke Street without wishing you were here - which may explain why I had to share it with Dakota... but haven't yet been able to finish the series.

Which brings me to another photo I love

Max love you THHISSS much!

I loved those afternoons of us just hanging out, watching The Duchess - and the boys - and just being together. It was a really special and unique time in our lives, I think, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.


And I want to wish you a very happy birthday.

From one Mama to another.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Nothin But Blue Sky

The guy at the liquor store today looked bored while he was ringing me up. Grand Marnier for Kate's galette, and a bottle of wine. I wasn't sure he had even looked at me until he took my ID, looked down at it and said "Whoa, I was thinkin '74." Then he looked up at me and smiled, said "Gotten pretty good at this, I'm nearly always within two years." Not with me, though, since what he was looking at was '71.

The weekend was full of little pleasures like that. Just funny exchanges with people, moments where I was wearing shoes I liked, or listening to I'll Take You There for the bazillionth time, drinking good beer, or sitting behind home plate for a rare Mariner's win, or eating curly fries at 3AM, or just goofing around with someone I liked.

I got to see big smiles on the faces of a lot of the people I am so fond of - Susan nearly doubled over with girlish laughter after we ran into one of our high school heart-throbs, Bobby dirty-haired and devilish at coffee, the morning after his shenanigan-filled fourth, Lindsey on the dance floor under fairy lights, spilling champagne and flipping her ponytail, Jessica grinning and shivering in Lake Washington at 3AM, as pale and beautiful as the moon. Kate in her kitchen with a counter-full of fresh fruit and a big ball of pie crust dough, Ryan finding his tempo on the dance floor at the Hen tonight.

We were just all pretty happy, I guess, out in the warm air, meeting up, going separate directions, coming back together again. I wore a bathing suit under my clothes for the first time this year, left sand on kitchen floor and drank more bottles of Green River than I care to admit. I was in love, all weekend. With band practice, Jackson Five, fish tacos, other people's back yards, open car windows, hair left wet out of the shower, blurry photos of sparklers, and yes, Jessica, sleeping in, eating out, new kisses, and maybe an old one too. But that's a story for another blog.

Happy summer, at long last.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Down on the Shore

Look at Max in his funny muscle shirt!
Love those guns baby!

Well, instead of our usual trek to Vermont, this weekend we opted to go to the Jersey Shore. Ah, the lovely Jersey Shore!

Euge's Aunt Liz has a house right across from the boardwalk and she had some of her daughters down, so we decided to join them and take advantage of the nice weather and the extra hands.

It's always nice to have a bunch of baby-googly ladies around, willing to take a baby or two. I even managed to get a manicure and pedicure! I wouldn't exactly recommend the salon - I am spoiled by the meticulous manicurists that you find on virtually every street corner in Manhattan and this girl was sloppy - but it was relaxing.

And there's nothing like a crappy french-tip manicure to make you feel right at home in Jersey!

Note how I position the baby to hide my ginormous belly.
Babies really are the perfect accessory!

We got to take the boys to the beach, they didn't seem to have any strong opinions about it. I also took the opportunity to bust out the silly hats again.

Thomas, such a sweetie. He looks sad in the eyes...
like he's thinking "why Mommy? Why the hat?"

Sunday afternoon was the big party day at the beach club catty corner to Liz's house and I really wish that I could properly illustrate the parade of muscleheads and Kardashian wanna-be's that paraded by, but I was afraid that if I took a picture, somebody might get pummeled.

Well, not really but this site illustrates the scene much better than I EVER could.