This morning while walking a large boobied lady made her way across me in all of her plastic surgery enhanced beauty. I shook my head. There are two things in this world that I don’t get - (1) Fake Boobs and (2) Tattoos. Perhaps because I am well endowed, I can’t possibly understand why a woman would choose to go out and pay money for things that basically cause dents in your shoulders and make the wearing of some v-neck shirts outright obscene. I also am hard pressed to understand how any heterosexual man could enjoy the feeling of said boobies which I imagine feel like a gallon size Ziploc bag filled with sandwich size water filled bag that continually moves as you grab it. Sorta like, oh wait a second, I know why men would like it - it feels like their balls! It all makes sense now. But why a girl would want larger melons is beyond me, but then I am never one to intentionally seek out attention from the masses. This brings to another thing that causes in me the immediate tisk, tisk and that is the tattoo. How could you like something so much that you choose to get it inked permanently on your body? A friend of mine in the mid-1990s got two tattoos - the infinity symbol on her foot and Dionysis’s staff on her belly. Although I could appreciate her journey to be different, I never really got it. Also, I think in 2007 both of these tattoos are dated. Especially since her Dionysis’ staff (see photo above) basically got the following from people who viewed - “Is that a rosebud?” “Ah no (disgust), it is the staff of the Greek God of wine and intoxication. Geesh. (rolling eyes)” Yep, that is right - the staff of a Greek God who stood for wine and intoxication. Ah, being in your 20s. So, I don’t know maybe for all my liberal intentions I am quite conservative in my views of boobies and tatts - one should be real and the other strictly reserved for sailors.

For the Love of Verily. Those unfamiliar with high rise office buildings are missing out on one of my favorite inventions over the past five years - right behind the Nintendo Wii and Grey Goose L’Orange - and that is Captivate TV which is found in the elevator. Captivate TV is a television that informs the rider of general, entertainment and sports news as well as odd and educational tidbits. I love Captivate TV for many reasons, but mainly it has to do with its name. Is it actually Captivating TV or is it because you are in an elevator and basically a captive. Hmmmmmm. Today I learned of my new favorite word ever. The word is “verily”, an adjective meaning “in truth”. The sentence use was “I verily believe that wearing white should be reserved for after Memorial Day.” This appealed to me for two reasons:

1. I too believe the wearing of white should only be used during the days between Memorial Day and Labor Day or by virgins offered for sacrifice.

2. When said out loud “verily” sorta sounds like really, but in a fucked up retarded tongue like when you are drunk. I am all for words that make me appear stupid and/or intoxicated but in fact play up my intelligence. I verily do.

Other things that I verily believe in are as follows: I verily believe the Manhattan will be my first liquor drink after the baby. I verily believe that it will be made with Maker’s Mark. I verily believe I will become drunk. I verily believe that this will cause exuberance in me bordering on mania. I verily believe during this Manhattaned induced exuberance I will more than likely fall and meet an untimely death. I verily believe at the gates of heaven St. Peter will ask me if it was worth it. To which I will reply “Well, St. Peter, I know lots of people would be pressed to say no, but I disagree, for I verily believe it was.”

Why I Am a Dork. I think that this may be a continuing series because the list is very long. First I would like to report that I have gotten an A in Big Brain Academy on my Nintendo DS Lite. Although I am satisfied with this grade, I still want an A+. Also in the realm of gaming goofiness, John and I just moved the Wii into the bedroom so that we can play Mario Party 8. I will let you chew on that for a bit. I allowed a gaming system be moved into my bedroom so that I can play Nintendo with my husband before bed. I think that violates total girl code, but whatever, I love the Wii. I am officially on Day 2 of my Weight Watchers diet. So far, so good. Of course my in-laws came over last night with boxes of See’s Candies. Curses! However, I only ate 2 pieces, which is an improvement over grabbing the box running to a corner and growling at any passerby. And you probably think I am kidding. I will like to state as a nursing mom, I get 10 extra points a day for a total of 35 points. 10 extra points? That is basically a big slice of pizza a day because I breastfeed. Finally my ravenous hunger makes sense.

I just made a purchase of a Jonathan Weiner print entitled “Flower Offering” that makes me so happy that I would hop, skip, dance, sing and whistle all at the same time if it would not cause me to fall flat on my face in a heap of twisted leg and tongue. As luck would have it, I stumbled upon his site from my numerous searches for art for Owen’s room, and fell instantly in love. The print is above. Of course, I am still looking for art for Owen’s room as well as pondering whether to buy Flor tiles. I am seriously insane when it comes to anything in that room - the crib and bedding purchase alone was a two month adventure in internet searches. But I got the Dick crib and the ABC Dwell Baby sheets and crib skirt and the room itself is a cold steel blue with white curtains. The color scheme being brown, blue and white. I have to say that I am rather impressed with how it came out, but I still must get the art and the rug which causes numerous headaches. I have this great Interpol print by Tara McPherson that is what the colors are based on, but still need to get some other things. I should seriously just get an entire wall of mirrors given Owen’s love of himself, but alas, I guess this is normal. I hope. Otherwise, I just gave birth to reincarnation of Narcissis.

So to sum up, I am a dork for the following reasons:

1. My grade on Big Brain Academy bothers me.
2. I have a Nintendo Wii in my bedroom.
3. Weight Watchers.
4. A piece of art has made me as giddy as when the Red Sox won the World Series.
5. I equate my son to a Greek god who fell in love with his reflection.

Don’t worry; this list is in no way complete.

Boston Betrays, Infant Flying and Competitve Trickery. Remember how I said there are things in Boston I miss? Like scali bread, Wellfleet Oysters and Famous Roast Beef. Well, there is one thing I don’t miss and that is humidity. After 3 years of only visiting in the winter, I returned in June to find the welt in swelter. Holy crap. The next day however it was 50 and rainy. My dad repeated the phrase “If you hate the weather in Boston, just wait a day.” Well, I have another saying “If you hate the weather in Boston, fucking come to your senses and move already.” Needless to say, I am glad I moved for the weather in San Francisco although foggy on occasion, is never ever hell-like in its heat. Well except for the day I got married and it was 112 in the shade. In other news, I shan’t ever go on a plane again with Owen until he is at least 18 years old (maybe). The plane ride out was not bad, but the one back was six and half hours of pure torture. The poor guy got a head cold 10 hours before our flight, and was indeed Woe-wen. Thankfully, it is all a distant memory (photo of Owen in Boston above). The wedding was great though as was seeing my family. But from now on relatives and friends - you visit me.

This Monday will be my first Weight Watchers meeting, which is horrendous to type, but alas the 10 weeks of bed rest, the fanatical addiction to ice cream and my inability to stay on track has caused me to make the move. However, I have to say there is only one motivation for me joining the WW, and that is the fact that I am ultra competitive and need to join in order to put others to shame with my dramatic weight loss. Yep, I am this pathetic. At my old office we used to have something called Fat Track in which we all put in 20 bux and whoever lost the most percentage weight over a specific period of time, was named winner. And guess who was named winner and co-winner on every occasion? Me. And you wanna know how? The last weeks I would be running on my treadmill in garbage bags in order to eliminate any water from my system as well as eating hardly anything but tuna in a can and water. All this suffering for a mere 200 dollars, but it was worth it. Because I won! I won! I won! So, in order to trick myself into getting focused I have joined weight watchers. Even though there is a total crazy lady running this thing who annoys the hell out of me. Her name is Gwen, and she is a vocally high pitched cheerleader. But it must be done, for the boy is 6 months old, and I have exactly 6 months before we try for baby number two (who will never see the inside of an aircraft).