Ruminating Slav

iGeek

What's new, pussycats? This weekend I drove down to Austin to attend my very-first Buffy Sing-a-Long, and holy crap, how much fun was that? Copious amounts of alcohol were consumed all day long, but I'm pretty sure that sitting among my people belting out, "You're the cutest of the Scoobies with your lips as red as rubies and your firm yet supple ... tight embrace!" would have been just as much fun stone-cold sober. Along similarly nerdular lines, Joss Whedon is selling himself on eBay. I plan on bidding my final paycheck, which, let's face it, might win me a glimpse of the back of Joss' head while nibbling on a cocktail weenie in the broom closet of the restaurant where the winning bidders will be wined and dined. By Joss Whedon.

So I've been watching the new Doctor Who, internets, and man alive, is it ever good. Yes, yes, go ahead and get the pointing and snickering out of your system. Rest assured that my husband sees to it that I am properly shamed every time I put on an episode. Because clearly, Mr. I-Own-Ever-Batman-Comic-Since-1962 can talk.

Are we all properly Depends-clad for tomorrow's iPhone launch? Doubly useful for both fanboy/girl squee-leaks, and for not having to leave your place in line in front of the Apple store (unless you're the chump who hired this guy, in which case, I hope he puts his shirt back on in time for the hand-off). I have called AT&T to switch my service over (promotional goodies for being a long-distance and DSL customer, don'cha know) and they're FedEx'ing me a SIM card along with a free Razr which they could not be talked out of sending. Don't think the irony of being force-fed 2004's hot cell phone for free while eagerly waiting to drop hundreds of dollars on this year's hot cell phone is lost on me. Cause it 'taint.

Good news -- daycare has been going well for Baxter! Which is good news for me since it means I don't have to spend my 12 precious free hours a week being riddled with guilt. Instead I get to do things like slog along on the treadmill and eat canned tuna fish drizzled with lemon. You got it, time for a Lifestyle Change. I have high hopes -- pounds are being dropped and self-respect is being restored. It's actually easier than I thought it would be since I'm not nearly as tempted as I would have been pre-Baxter when we went out to eat a lot more. So there you go, gentle readers, I'm putting it out there and making it official. Now the shame will keep me motivated because I hate talking about something and then not following through.

Finally, as you can see on the left, I've joined the Twitter revolution. What's that you say? The Twitter revolution was in 2006? Oh well. If I manage to get an iPhone, just imagine the inane details of my life that you'll be subjected to: "Sitting at a red light on the way to the bank!" or "Watching my kid wander around the park and pick up cigarette butts!"

I know. I can hardly wait.

Laid back off ... with my mind on my money and my money on my mind

Yesterday I drove up to work because my boss wanted to talk to me about summer projects. Turns out that summer plans involve doing the Dread Annual Report again, immediately followed by being shitcanned. Noice. Three out of the six positions in my departments (that's 50% for all you mathletes out there) are being eliminated, mine being one of the lucky three. So my advice to you, internets, is, if you want it to rain, get your car washed. And if you want to get laid off, enroll your kid in daycare so you can get more work done.

Speaking of daycare, today was introductions day over at the JCC. Songs were sung in Hebrew, and camp t-shirts were passed out. Also, tears fell copiously from the little red-rimmed eyes belonging to my son, who spent the whole hour piteously tugging on my shirt and begging, "Up! Up!" I'm not sure why he was so freaked out since he didn't know WTF was going on -- maybe because BK has taken him to the JCC a few times to work out and left him in the babysitting room there? In any case, next week is going to be quite traumatic for the little dude if today was any indication. Update: Baxter woke up from his nap with an over-103° fever, so I think I have my answer.

Yesterday I made Pecan Crusted Chicken Tenders and Salad with Tangy Maple Dressing for dinner. My first batch of tenders turned out just fine, and then all culinary hell broke loose. The oil got too hot, chicken started burning, the smoke started smoking, and the fire alarm that's connected to the security system started whoop-whoop-whooping. Whoopy! All the doors and window were open, the fans were going, and the alarm was blaring in exactly 2½ minute intervals. We finally had to call the security company and have them reset the system cause momma didn't need no 150-second reminders about what a failure she was in the kitchen.

Mongeese, it is time for me to make a public apology to Neil Patrick Harris. Some time ago I viciously maligned his television show. How wrong I was! Not only am I now a big fan of How I Met Your Mother, but I think I may have a teeny-weeny crush on Barney Stinson. Seriously, WTF? What is it with me and the fictional assholes?

buster, originally uploaded by *Karo*.

In other news, I got my news lens! And I'm in the process of switching over from iPhoto to Aperture and the steep software learning curve is hurting my soft, soft sedentary brains. And I haven't even started shooting in RAW yet, sheesh. Hey, on the bright side, I'll have something to keep me busy while I'm officially unemployed and Baxter is in daycare. What's that? You thought that come the end of July when I'm out of work I'd quit with the daycare? Hahahahahaha.

You'd be wrong.

Also, my kid hates fingerpainting with the fire of one thousand suns:

oh my god what have you done?!?!, originally uploaded by *Karo*.

I dare you to look at Baxter's expression in this photo and not cackle out loud. Dare you.

Recent Baxter photos

Created with Paul's flickrSLiDR.

The prom scene from Carrie

Let me preface today's story by saying that whatever thoughts you're having about calling CPS, it's too late; I've already called them.

This afternoon we took the dog for a walk, avec stroller. Mid-walk we see some dude holding a bunch of carpet samples getting out of his car. Buster decides to go completely insane and lunges at the man, growling and generally acting like he wants to tear his throat out. Much chaos ensues, the result of which is Baxter's stroller completely upside-down on the sidewalk. After quickly rightening it I checked the poor little dude out but he seemed no worse for the wear. He kind of tucked himself in to the corner of the stroller for a while and his mouth did the W of Despair, but he didn't even cry. Thank the sweet baby jebus I had him strapped in.

Then tonight we're up on our bed hanging out right before bedtime and he rolls right off, dammit. I just wasn't fast enough. Apparently he hit his head on the corner of the bedside table? Or maybe the sideboard? I don't know, it all happened so fast, but there was blood everywhere. So I'm trying to figure out if my kid needs stitches and he's hollering and blood is just cascading down the back of his neck. Absolutely terrifying, and of course it's a night that BK's out of town. Anyway, it was a small cut and stopped bleeding pretty quickly, but not before his jammers, the comforter, my shirt, and the carpet were all a big, bloody mess.

I kept him up for a while to make sure he wasn't dizzy or disoriented, but he seemed fine, so I put him to bed. I'm sure I'll be going in there every 30 minutes to make sure he's still breathing.

I need a beer.

If this post was a casserole it wouldn't be very tasty

yucking it up
Originally uploaded by *Karo*.

Hi pork chops! Guess what? I done got my baby enrolled in daycare at the local JCC three mornings a week starting next month. Think of it! Twelve oh-so luxurious, child-free hours a week during which I can lay around on the couch stuffing my maw with those proverbial bon-bons do work and go to the gym. Plus, the whole interacting with other human beings his own age has got to be good for the little scamp, right? Right!

Volvo XC90
Originally uploaded by *Karo*.

I also got a ... brand new car! My S40's lease was up soon so the nice people at the Volvo dealership were kind enough to let me pay them even more money monthly for a bigger car that beeps ever-so fearsomely at me if it thinks I'm about to back up into something. The stereo system also has an auxilliary input for that iPod that I never use any more, and plays mp3 CDs. Who needs that iPod when I can have upwards of 1,000 songs in my six-disc changer! Man oh manischewitz, am I ever living now.

I don't even really want to mention it, but since I've been faithfully chronicling my MacBook Pro saga for posterity, I guess I shouldn't omit the fact that I am now on MBP number 4. After my last post I found out that number three had a faulty RAM bay, so I couldn't install my additional memory. So I had to mail it in, and after it came back it started the whole not-sleeping-when-the-lid-is-closed thing that number one used to do, oh joy of joys. I know, right? It'd almost be funny if it weren't so pathetic. The cow I ended up with in tier-two AppleCare kept insisting that it was software related, even though it only started happening after I got the machine back from the repair depot. After the whole litany of "fixes" ending with and archive and install didn't fix it, I went back to the Apple Store and gave it to them, because I had a feeling she was going to make me wipe the hard drive clean next. Anyway, the long and short is that the geniuses replaced it. Again. This one's trackpad button is a little on the wonky side and sometimes doesn't register clicks, but I'm going to ignore that for now because I'm just so disgusted with the whole mess.

green shoes
Originally uploaded by *Karo*.

Oh! So I came across this awesome deal for the Canon SD1000, and because I'm an idiot and cannot pass up a good tech deal I bought one to replace my old point-and-shoot Canon S230. Among other things, it has much better video-taking capabilities than the S230, but it can also do this. --->

Listen up, Dallas! I am now ready to be your crappy "artistic" wedding photographer. Please allow me to take stunning black-and-white photos of your flower girl kissing the ring bearer, and my camera will color up those red flowers she's holding! These priceless and fancy memories can be yours to hang on the wall next to your Thomas Kinkades for the low, low price of two thousand U.S. dollars!

Finally, those of you reading the Buffy Season Eight comic book, or those who aren't and don't mind being spoiled: how awesome is this? Check out J-Dub sticking it to the shippers. Good times.

Courtney Cox, I love you

Hi internets! You don't write, you don't call ... What? You've been calling every day and I never pick up? Unpossible! Clearly, it is You (Time's Person of the Year, natch) who has failed to maintain this beautiful and delicate relationship we have spent weeks, nay, MONTHS cultivating. No, shhh! Don't speak! Don't speak.

No, for real. I've got a headache.

So, what's new? How's the holiday season been treating you? Good, good. Here Chez Slav things are plodding along quite nicely. In BK news, on Friday the man himself was named the newest partner at his law firm. Woohoo, go BK! Good things happening to good people -- me likey. Also, BK's Christmas gift to himself was Lasik. Look how cute:

The Stanimal emailed me yesterday to tell me he was not able to figure out at which terminal our flight to Toronto will be landing. Not surprising considering we don't leave for another week. Eager beaver much, Stanimal? This trip has all the ingredients of a true holiday fiasco, I'm telling you You. The Stanimal and his wife now live in a condo in a high-rise, and they were very insistent back in June that we make reservations one of the rental apartments in the building. But see, the baby, he goes to sleep in the seven-o'clock hour. Hm ... maybe this is all part of the Stanimal's evil plan to see as little of us as possible.

Speaking of the baby, he walks!



A weaker woman than I might also say he talks, but I'm waiting until he repeats things a little more before giving him the gold speaking star. They probably don't give gold stars any more, do they? They're all exclusionary for the kids who didn't get one. Let's give everyone a nice pale yellow star instead! Just for being you You!

Wherein I refuse to address the issue at hand

I know, right? Let's not speak of it.

Hey, guess what? Tomorrow the Slav Family heads to New York City. BK has been out of town an outrageous amount the past month (I opted not to accompany him to Milan with Baxter, because, come on. Who are we kidding? Bad idea.) so Bax and I are tagging along. Did you know a certain Buffy alum is currently filming a movie on the Lower East side? No? Well, I DO.

I bought two pairs of new shoes!



Remember when I was all geeking out over that software update I'd be getting on my Directv TiVo? Well, I got it, and it hasn't been pretty. The past three weeks have been full of phone calls to the Directv people, multiple lost recordings, audio dropouts, reformatting of hard drives, and 50% more gray in my hair. The problem, she is fixed? No.

My kid turned a year old!



I'll spare you the cake-smooshing shots, but if you're the sort who enjoys looking at photos of small children coated with chocolate icing, knock yourself out.

You've been thinking about my Macbook Pro, haven't you? Admit it. The latest there is a sudden refusal to go to sleep upon closing, which is apparently a known issue following the 10.4.8 upgrade. I've reset the PRAM on mine and it seems to have solved the problem. FOR NOW.

Hey, fellow Veronica Mars afficionados! How about that last episode? LoVe? Regina Spektor? WEEVIL? Good times. (I cannot write more as El Paso has screwed poor SueSue up the pooper -- the cable co. there hasn't signed a contract with the CW yet and she cannot watch. The horror. My god, the horror.) And you, the brave, the geeky, the Battlestar Galactica viewers! Did Friday's episode rip you a new one or what? To borrow a phrase from Canadian pre-teen programming, IT WENT THERE.

My godfather visited for Baxter's birthday, all the way from Poland:



cue inevitable Lech Wałęsa comparisons

In November I head down to San Antonio for the way to help my college roommate celebrate her recent wedding (congrats, the artist formerly known as KCG!), then it's off to Mississippi for a BK Family Thanksgiving, complete with a brand-new addition to the family, and finally Christmas in Canada with the Stanimal and his wife.

Let us revisit these topics and others soon.

Poop of the non-baby variety

So! Here's some things. Last night BK and I went on our first date since Baxter was born. I know, right? Shameful. Everything was hunky-dork* until we set off for the restaurant and realized that all of the exits off the highway were closed because the service road was a lake for miles on accounta the 40 days and 40 nights-style rain Dallas experienced this weekend. Because having a baby has mellowed me out considerably, according to BK anyway, I responded to this change in plans with a "meh," as opposed to my usual barrage of cursing, huffing, and moaning. I remembered reading something good many, many moons ago about a Cuban restaurant in Dallas, so I called my friend C. to telegoogle (thanks, C!) and we soon found ourselves at the Samba Room which surprised the hell outta me by being really frickin' good despite both barbacoa and sushi being on the menu (WTF?). Mojitos? Good! Ceviche? Good! Sea bass? Good! Blue crab California roll? Good! Really! Oh, and wee little key lime pie in a shot glass? Also good. We then went to see V for Vendetta which I was resigned to simply providing company for, but turned out to be also good! We rolled on in after midnight, so I guess that should do me another 6 months until the next time the in-laws come visitin'.

Speaking of the in-laws, I have never met people who poop more often in my life. My mother-in-law, in particular, poops three to five times a day. This results in many poop-themed anecdotes from the weekend, like that time I was in our bedroom and my mother-in-law didn't know it so she closed the bathroom door that leads to the hall but not the one that opens to the bedroom and proceeded to have violent diarrhea 10 feet away from me OR the time BK and I were in the nursery changing Baxter's diaper and were conversing very loudly about why does it smell like shit in here when his diaper wasn't poopy and is it coming from over here, no, is it coming from over there, no, oh it's coming from the bathroom and then cue long, uncomfortable silence. But seriously, people. Constant pooping.

My smiley little baby has been a McCrankster Supreme the past couple of weeks, which has the effect of slowly beating me down over the course of the day so that when precious, precious free time rolls around the last thing I want to do is try to assemble a coherent blog post and instead slump in the armchair watching multiple Buffy episodes back-to-back with a thin rivulet of drool trickling from the corner of my mouth. C. and K., Baxter thanks you for his Longhorn gear which he looks quite smashing in.

* This was some sort of freudian typo that made me softly cackle when I previewed so I left it.

My router brings all the boys to the yard

So I got this new laptop, right? It's supposed to be all fast and shit, right? It pains me to tell you that the joy of the Intel speed demon has been somewhat mitigated by the stellar crapitude that is our current wireless signal. I'm not kidding when I say that sometimes it takes 15 seconds for the front page of cnn.com to render completely. I've bought new routers, upgraded our DSL to "pro," bought a 5.8 Mhz cordless phone, but still, the crapitude. So the other day in a fit of rage I tore the Airport Express from its home at the stereo and shoved it into the outlet by the router, and plugged it in. I have no idea why I did this. I have vague memories of reading something somewhere that claims the Airport Express can be used as a repeater to boost your wireless signal, but I assume that is a more complicated process than simply plugging it into your 3rd-party router. But the internet fairies must have sprinkled some kilobyte dust on me, because it worked! In the sense that now CNN renders in a reasonable two seconds and the signal is relatively strong throughout the house, it works! I have no idea, though, what it was I actually did besides render iTunes unplayable through our speaker system, so if you're all smart and techy and shit, please let me know.

I have been poking around online for a bag for my MacBook Pro, since my existing Crumpler McBain's Lovechild is too small. I finally decided on the STM Medium Loft, although I was very much tempted to buy one of these laptop sleeves. In the end, though, cheapness won out -- I couldn't pony up the 78 bucks, so off to Microcenter I went yesterday to buy the STM. I took my laptop with me so I could make sure it fit. It fit, I bought, and on the way home Baxter fell asleep in his car seat. We've been a little lacking in the nap department around here of late, what with the newly-found ability to roll roll roll; he rolls himself into a corner on his belly and gets stuck and pissed off. If I pulled into the garage I'd have to take him out of the car because it was so hot here yesterday, and if I move him, he wakes up, and if he wakes up, my self-composure held together with spit and Elmer's Glue cracks just a teensy bit more. Are you putting the numbers together, my furry little lemurs? Sleeping baby + laptop + newly enhanced wireless signal = Karo sitting in an idling car in front of her house for 20 minutes surfing the internets. NICE ONE.

The many faces of my son