In high school, every time “These Dreams” by Heart came on the radio, I had to call my friend Alex so she could turn on the station. I forget what song she did that for me.
Archive for January, 2012
Womanizer by Britney Spears
Womanizer, Woman, Womanizer
You’re a Womanizer, oh Womanizer oh
You’re a Womanizer, baby
You you you are, you you you are
Womanizer, Womanizer, Womanizer
Must mistake me, you’re a sucker
To think that I
Would be a victim not another
Say it, play it how you wanna
But no way I’m ever gonna fall for you, never you, baby
Nebulizer by Tina Lee
Nebulizer, nebu, nebulizer
You’re a nebulizer, oh nebulizer oh
You’re a nebulizer, baby
You you you are, You you you are
Nebulizer, nebulizer, nebulizer
You’re full of snot and gross saliva
You help us out
But we prefer to eat Godiva
You’re so loud, you scare my son
But so far, you’re the only one to clear his chest,
Clear his chest baby…
Could I finesse this more? Sure. But can I justify spending more time on this than I already have? No. Incidentally, bo-kum-bop is kimchee fried rice. Ugh, the way my dad makes it is so good, it’s KILLER DELICIOUS, but man your breath is stinky after. Here is the Britney Spears song that’s in my head.
We’re still working on the names for the Twins. I also would really like to try this time to see if we can get a korean name as part of the mix, since they are half-giant-headed-me. It’s not that easy, but the Korean naming process feels almost impossible. Mom has been tasked with coming up with some suggestion, but some of her contenders are not really possible to capture phonetically in English. I looked up some names online – Eu-nah or Oona seemed like a possibility: it sounds pretty in English and there was Oona O’Neil, Eugene O’Neill who became a child bride of Charlie Chaplins…not that I want the daughter to split early for a pedophile groom but I have a weakness for names associated with artists. I asked my mom what she thought and she said, “Huh, Eu-nah means eel.” Great.
Would it be totally racist and lazy to just name them Jin and Sun after the Koreans on Lost? Kind of, even though two friends I asked said no. And sorry if I’ve mentioned this already, but Husband asked if we can just name them emo (which means “aunt” or “mother’s sister.”)
When I picked this up, I wasn’t expecting much. These celeb books are usually episodic. Like Tim Gunn’s book called Golden Rules, or something, is all over the place, and mostly, I walk away with the feeling that he is really into thank you notes and hates rude people, but is that worth spending 200 pages saying? I actually really liked him, but his book makes him sound very tedious and was all over the place. Tina Fey’s Bossypants made me laugh, but again, it was like a series of magazine articles. She doesn’t really get into any subject that deeply, and although she’s a good writer, not every good writer has a book in them, you feel me?
So with Mindy Kaling’s book, I figured it would be a pastiche of funny, but largely shallow and unrelated blog entries — boy, was I wrong. Okay, I wasn’t entirely wrong, but I was pleasantly surprised by the substantive chapters. They’re all somewhat relevant to career, but she writes a great deal about her friendships, growing up, and her family, and she’s funny, but it mostly works because she’s being honest. She has a chapter yelling at married people to stop complaining how much work marriage is, because single people need inspiration, and even her chapter on rules for kareoke was engaging, because I thought she had some really good good rules.
Anyway, if you’re looking for a light read, choose this one. I did because my brain is at a candy-only IQ level right now.
Baby has begun kissing. He kisses his toys on the mouth, he kisses characters in picture books on the mouth, and he kisses me and Husband on the mouth. There isn’t very much art to it. His mouth is usual open and there is a great deal of saliva. When he kisses Husband, Husband is very cool about it, and it’s over quickly. He loves it, so he doesn’t melt into hysterics like I do. I cannot handle it. I start to giggle like a banshees and try to extricate from the situation, but recently, Baby put his giant baby paw behind my head and pressed me close. He also grabbed my chin and tilted my face toward his, and I got so giggly I nearly gave birth. I. Cannot. Handle. Make it stop.
I have to quit cutting my bangs…it’s just that I really love doing it. The dude who cuts my hair has gradually trimmed them to a mega-short length, literally a Julius Caesar fringe, I think possibly because now that I am a mom, I don’t really have time to come frequently so he’s saving me time. But the short bangs look normal to me because of all those pictures of Rooney Mara with teeny monk-like bangs.
The first thing my mom said to me after my haircut is “WHY ARE YOUR BANGS SO SHORT!” And I was like harumph, that doesn’t have to be the first thing you say, is it? The first thing Husband said to me after my haircut is “CUTE HAIRCUT!” then after a pause “WHY ARE YOUR BANGS SO SHORT!” That was more appropriate.