My only regret about being gone this weekend (on a stretch of lonely road in California with bad radio reception to boot) is the fact that we were unable to watch the smiling Iraqi faces as they cast their ballots for freedom and peace. Just looking at the photos on the Internet is amazing, enough. Thank God for the brave Iraqis who overcame the fear of terrorists and boldly went out to make their voices heard.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Land of Aquatic Adventures
I didn’t realize until this past weekend that Kevin had never been to SeaWorld. (I think he had just as much fun as the kids!) We all had such a great time. And, to top it off, it was one of those picture-perfect San Diego days . . . bright, sunshiny, and 62 degrees. Mmm . . . beautiful.
With a bit of advance planning, we managed to do just about everything in the park. The dolphin and Shamu shows were indescribably incredible. It’s amazing what they can do with those animals. The trainers must have a lot of confidence to work with the killer whales especially. One of the trainers stood on the nose of Shamu as it launched the trainer eight stories into the air. Another trainer ran in place on top of the whale as it rolled around in the water. In addition to the surprise tricks, a lot of humor was interjected into the shows.
We also really enjoyed interacting with the many different sea animals. There were different “petting zoos” at the park, including a tank with a bunch of rays (obviously with their stingers disabled). The rays would come up to the surface and curl their “wings.” To my surprise, they felt very slimy and mushy. We also got to “pet” three or four different dolphins. By contrast, their skin was very slick, smooth, and rubbery. In order to touch and interact with the dolphins, we had to buy a tray of fish to feed them. Kevin bought two trays saying, “I paid enough money to get into this blasted park, I’m not going to leave without feeding the dolphins!” I don’t know which was more fun: watching the dolphins or watching Kevin.
With a bit of advance planning, we managed to do just about everything in the park. The dolphin and Shamu shows were indescribably incredible. It’s amazing what they can do with those animals. The trainers must have a lot of confidence to work with the killer whales especially. One of the trainers stood on the nose of Shamu as it launched the trainer eight stories into the air. Another trainer ran in place on top of the whale as it rolled around in the water. In addition to the surprise tricks, a lot of humor was interjected into the shows.
We also really enjoyed interacting with the many different sea animals. There were different “petting zoos” at the park, including a tank with a bunch of rays (obviously with their stingers disabled). The rays would come up to the surface and curl their “wings.” To my surprise, they felt very slimy and mushy. We also got to “pet” three or four different dolphins. By contrast, their skin was very slick, smooth, and rubbery. In order to touch and interact with the dolphins, we had to buy a tray of fish to feed them. Kevin bought two trays saying, “I paid enough money to get into this blasted park, I’m not going to leave without feeding the dolphins!” I don’t know which was more fun: watching the dolphins or watching Kevin.
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Friday, January 28, 2005
Making Good On A Promise
Well, I made the “mistake” of telling my little brother and sister, David (10) and Melissa (8), maybe 8-9 months ago that we would take them to SeaWorld sometime soon. Since then, we’ve been reminded umpteen times that we need to fulfill my obligation. For instance, last August I got this sweet note from my brother saying “I’m glad you got a new house. I love you and miss you. I hope I can see you soon. David.” Then I opened the letter from my little sister and it said: “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE US TO SEAWORLD? Love, Melissa.” So . . . the short version of the story is, we’re going to take them this weekend. It’ll be a rush-rush trip to San Diego and back. But it should be fun.
It was a last-minute decision (as of yesterday) to make this trip this weekend. We were originally planning on going next weekend but something had unexpectedly come up on my calendar for next weekend. And then we realized, much to Kevin’s chagrin and dismay, that every single one of our weekends are booked from now until April, except for one. “At least we have a life,” I said, trying to console him. “Yes,” he replied. “But it would be nice if we could have a slower-paced life!”
It was a last-minute decision (as of yesterday) to make this trip this weekend. We were originally planning on going next weekend but something had unexpectedly come up on my calendar for next weekend. And then we realized, much to Kevin’s chagrin and dismay, that every single one of our weekends are booked from now until April, except for one. “At least we have a life,” I said, trying to console him. “Yes,” he replied. “But it would be nice if we could have a slower-paced life!”
Introducing Barbara
I don’t think I’ve ever “introduced” another blog on my site, but, hey, there’s always a first time for everything. Right?
Barbara Curtis, although she’s an experienced author and speaker, has only just recently joined the blogging world. And I’ve really appreciated reading her posts. Not only does she have a wealth of experience to draw from, she’s down-to-earth, endearing, humorous, and “real.” I like that.
So, anyway, because I’ve enjoyed reading her blog so much recently, I thought I’d share it with you. (But, gee, it’s getting harder to find the time to read all the cool blogs out there!)
Barbara Curtis, although she’s an experienced author and speaker, has only just recently joined the blogging world. And I’ve really appreciated reading her posts. Not only does she have a wealth of experience to draw from, she’s down-to-earth, endearing, humorous, and “real.” I like that.
So, anyway, because I’ve enjoyed reading her blog so much recently, I thought I’d share it with you. (But, gee, it’s getting harder to find the time to read all the cool blogs out there!)
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Oscars
Okay, one more link and I promise I'll log a "real" post next time. :)
This is an incredible article by Michael Medved, a Jewish man who was once a liberal activist but is now a conservative talk show host and one of the most brilliant thinkers of our day:
"Oscar Bids Reflect Industry's Discomfort With Religion"
This is an incredible article by Michael Medved, a Jewish man who was once a liberal activist but is now a conservative talk show host and one of the most brilliant thinkers of our day:
"Oscar Bids Reflect Industry's Discomfort With Religion"
What makes people happy?
This essay, on measuring happiness in light of economic growth, is interesting. The study shows that despite our economic growth and increase in our standard of living, people are less happy. In determining happiness, the common factor among the reportedly "most happy" people is marriage (or at least a monogamous sexual relationship). Although the study interprets the data as "happy people are people who have lots of sex," I think it's interesting that marriage and happiness go hand in hand, while marriage is one of the primary social building blocks under attack today. No wonder our nation's overall happiness is receding.
Don't Drink Water; Drink Pepsi Instead
One of Kevin’s mantras is that you don’t have to drink 6-8 glasses of water a day to be healthy – and if anyone tries to convince you otherwise, it’s a hoax. He says that your body will tell you when you need more hydration by making you thirsty.
Throughout our several years of marriage, he has pointed out different authorities (sometimes even medical professionals and nutritionists) who agree with him. Most recently, he found this factoid on an MSN quiz:
“6. Everyone should drink eight glasses of water a day to stay healthy and properly hydrated. True or False?
The right answer is false. While it's a good idea to drink plenty of water, there is no scientific or medical basis for the specific amount of eight glasses per day. Water intake needs vary from person to person, depending on age, size and amount of physical activity. We can also get water from food and other beverages, so we don't necessarily need to get all of our fluids in the form of drinking water.”
One of the things that attracted me to Kevin is that he thinks independently. If my doctor told me to drink eight glasses of water a day, I would probably determine to just “do it.” Kevin, on the other hand, will find reasons why the doctor might be wrong. Gotta love the guy.
Throughout our several years of marriage, he has pointed out different authorities (sometimes even medical professionals and nutritionists) who agree with him. Most recently, he found this factoid on an MSN quiz:
“6. Everyone should drink eight glasses of water a day to stay healthy and properly hydrated. True or False?
The right answer is false. While it's a good idea to drink plenty of water, there is no scientific or medical basis for the specific amount of eight glasses per day. Water intake needs vary from person to person, depending on age, size and amount of physical activity. We can also get water from food and other beverages, so we don't necessarily need to get all of our fluids in the form of drinking water.”
One of the things that attracted me to Kevin is that he thinks independently. If my doctor told me to drink eight glasses of water a day, I would probably determine to just “do it.” Kevin, on the other hand, will find reasons why the doctor might be wrong. Gotta love the guy.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Virtual Hairstylist
Okay, if you want to waste a lot of time (while having lots of fun), you can check out the Virtual Hairstylist. What’s amazing about this website is that you can either upload your own photo – to see how you’d look with a new do – or you can pick a model with a similar face shape and coloring. The appeal of this website, I think, is that it could possibly save you from those infamous tears of dismay at the salon.
Isn’t it wonderful that God made hair grow so we can play with it, do wild things with it – if we want to, and not face long-term repercussions?
Isn’t it wonderful that God made hair grow so we can play with it, do wild things with it – if we want to, and not face long-term repercussions?
Boy or Girl?
Hmmm . . . this is an interesting little guessing game. If any of it’s true, we’re probably having a boy. But I doubt it’s anything more than a compilation of old wives’ tales.
Guess Your Baby's Gender
And, to support my last speculation - here you go.
Guess Your Baby's Gender
And, to support my last speculation - here you go.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Cabin Congregation
This past weekend we went up to Truckee (in the Sierras, near Tahoe) to spend time with two other married couples at a cabin, nestled quaintly in the snow. (Lots of snow!) It was nice to get away, experience fresh mountain air, and enjoy good conversation with friends. Two of us are expecting our first child. There were several times when I felt badly talking “baby talk” so much with the other mom-to-be (Kristi). It’s amazing how when you get two pregnant women together, that becomes the natural topic of conversation! But, trust me, I tried really, extra hard to be sensitive to the non-pregnant wife and talk about many non-baby things too. Especially when I caught her rolling her eyes whenever the subject of child-rearing, breast feeding, or how-to-decorate-the-nursery would come up.
It didn’t help matters that I brought the book Babywise along with me, thinking I might get a few moments to read it. Kristi had heard about it and was strongly opposed to any idea of scheduling. (Most of her opinions were based on what other young mothers had flippantly said about the book. And, trust me, I know how heated – and defensive – young mothers can be about how they’ve chosen to feed their babies, raise their children, etc.) By the end of Friday evening, however, I convinced Kristi to at least read the book. I told her that if she reads it and still disagrees with it, then she can at least disagree in an educated manner. I also convinced her that, even if she disagrees with 95% of it, there will still probably be a few concepts in there that she does agree with and she’ll be better off learning about them. By the end of the weekend, Kristi had read the entire book and said that she, surprisingly, agreed with nearly everything the author had to say. I was proud of her. Honestly, I can respect someone who disagrees with something as long as they’ve read what the other side has to say and know “for sure” that they disagree. But when someone disagrees with something based on what they think the other side has to say . . . I have a hard time respecting that.
_______________
This post about our Tahoe weekend just wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t include the story of our new glass bowl (or is it a vase?). On Saturday we went to Old Town Truckee to look at some of the specialty gift and antique shops. Although I periodically enjoy browsing through these shops, I’ve never bought anything at one of them. This is partially because I’ve never felt I could afford anything in those shops. But on Saturday, as Kevin and I were browsing through the merchandise at one of the shops, we became captivated by this large, cream-colored glass bowl that stood tall on several wispy, fragile-looking legs. “Isn’t that cool,” said Kevin. “That is so cool,” I replied. Feeling very spontaneous, we asked the saleslady how much it was, expecting it to be $999.95 or some other ridiculous amount. We were shocked that it was much, much less. On a total whim, we bought that stupid, artsy, beautiful, wonderful vase. Even though it wasn’t expensive, it also wasn’t cheap. In fact, I think it’s the most expensive spontaneous, non-useful item we’ve ever purchased!! (Shouldn’t we be thinking about buying baby furniture?!)
Several days later . . . I think we’re still trying to recover from the shock that we actually purchased it. Several times we’ve looked at each other and said, “Can you believe we bought that?!” (I’ve tried repeatedly to justify it by telling Kevin that it can be an early birthday present for me . . . or that we’ll eat out less for the next five years of our marriage . . . or . . . ?)
Anyway . . . Now it sits beautifully on top of our dining room table. (If I get a chance to take a picture, I’ll post it.) I’m sure that, years from now, we’ll laugh over this experience . . . especially when we have a defiant two-year-old who crawls on top of the table and breaks it.
It didn’t help matters that I brought the book Babywise along with me, thinking I might get a few moments to read it. Kristi had heard about it and was strongly opposed to any idea of scheduling. (Most of her opinions were based on what other young mothers had flippantly said about the book. And, trust me, I know how heated – and defensive – young mothers can be about how they’ve chosen to feed their babies, raise their children, etc.) By the end of Friday evening, however, I convinced Kristi to at least read the book. I told her that if she reads it and still disagrees with it, then she can at least disagree in an educated manner. I also convinced her that, even if she disagrees with 95% of it, there will still probably be a few concepts in there that she does agree with and she’ll be better off learning about them. By the end of the weekend, Kristi had read the entire book and said that she, surprisingly, agreed with nearly everything the author had to say. I was proud of her. Honestly, I can respect someone who disagrees with something as long as they’ve read what the other side has to say and know “for sure” that they disagree. But when someone disagrees with something based on what they think the other side has to say . . . I have a hard time respecting that.
_______________
This post about our Tahoe weekend just wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t include the story of our new glass bowl (or is it a vase?). On Saturday we went to Old Town Truckee to look at some of the specialty gift and antique shops. Although I periodically enjoy browsing through these shops, I’ve never bought anything at one of them. This is partially because I’ve never felt I could afford anything in those shops. But on Saturday, as Kevin and I were browsing through the merchandise at one of the shops, we became captivated by this large, cream-colored glass bowl that stood tall on several wispy, fragile-looking legs. “Isn’t that cool,” said Kevin. “That is so cool,” I replied. Feeling very spontaneous, we asked the saleslady how much it was, expecting it to be $999.95 or some other ridiculous amount. We were shocked that it was much, much less. On a total whim, we bought that stupid, artsy, beautiful, wonderful vase. Even though it wasn’t expensive, it also wasn’t cheap. In fact, I think it’s the most expensive spontaneous, non-useful item we’ve ever purchased!! (Shouldn’t we be thinking about buying baby furniture?!)
Several days later . . . I think we’re still trying to recover from the shock that we actually purchased it. Several times we’ve looked at each other and said, “Can you believe we bought that?!” (I’ve tried repeatedly to justify it by telling Kevin that it can be an early birthday present for me . . . or that we’ll eat out less for the next five years of our marriage . . . or . . . ?)
Anyway . . . Now it sits beautifully on top of our dining room table. (If I get a chance to take a picture, I’ll post it.) I’m sure that, years from now, we’ll laugh over this experience . . . especially when we have a defiant two-year-old who crawls on top of the table and breaks it.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Here's a Radical Thought: Raise Your Own Kids
I’m currently reading a bunch of Universal Preschool garbage that was just introduced as AB 172 in the California legislature. While the bill calls for voluntary preschool, available to all children ages 3-5, it also seeks to incorporate universal preschool with preexisting day care programs and state programs for infants and toddlers. And this, of course, is the first step toward making preschool mandatory – the transcendent liberal dream.
Am I really a right-wing radical person to believe that parents should raise their own kids and not dump them into state institutions when they’re practically still in diapers? For me, the bottom line is: “If you’re not planning on raising your own kids, don’t have them.” Get a BMW instead. It’s probably cheaper, too.
This brings up another question. Why do people have children in the first place? Is it to raise them for God? (I hope this is, ultimately, the reason why I'm having children.) Or is it for personal fulfillment?
Am I really a right-wing radical person to believe that parents should raise their own kids and not dump them into state institutions when they’re practically still in diapers? For me, the bottom line is: “If you’re not planning on raising your own kids, don’t have them.” Get a BMW instead. It’s probably cheaper, too.
This brings up another question. Why do people have children in the first place? Is it to raise them for God? (I hope this is, ultimately, the reason why I'm having children.) Or is it for personal fulfillment?
A new career awaits Kevin . . . if he wants it, that is.
Yesterday we had a frustrating experience when the cable guy came to hook up our modem. (We’re finally exiting the dinosaur age of dial-up at our house!) Ironically, it was cheaper to get both internet cable and basic cable TV, rather that internet cable by itself (you get a steep discount if you already have basic cable). The frustration began when, after being at our house for nearly an hour and a half, the cable guy kept asking me questions and telling me about certain “problems” he was running into. I thought it was very bizarre that he was including me in on his problem-solving sessions. I had a few questions for him too, which remained unasked:
“Do I really look like a techno-nerd who will be able to help you?”
“And, speaking of which, aren’t you the expert?”
“Shouldn’t you be able to solve these problems on your own?”
“Isn’t that why we’re paying you to come to our house?”
Finally I called Kevin at his office and handed the phone to the cable guy, hoping that the two of them could resolve it together. In the end, the cable guy said that the cable modem we’d purchased couldn’t be hooked up and he’d have to install his cable modem instead. Kevin told him, in no uncertain terms, that we are not paying to rent his cable modem. (If we get a bill for it, I think Kevin will go ballistics.)
When Kevin arrived home last night, after bible study, he sat down and read a sheet of directions that were sitting there, left by the cable guy. In less than ten minutes, Kevin had figured out the entire process of hooking up our cable modem, called the cable company to get a hook-up number, and had it installed properly. It’s been running perfectly ever since. Needless to say, I was very proud of him. “Kevin,” I said, “If the law thing ends up not working out for you, a brilliant career awaits you in cable installation.”
“Do I really look like a techno-nerd who will be able to help you?”
“And, speaking of which, aren’t you the expert?”
“Shouldn’t you be able to solve these problems on your own?”
“Isn’t that why we’re paying you to come to our house?”
Finally I called Kevin at his office and handed the phone to the cable guy, hoping that the two of them could resolve it together. In the end, the cable guy said that the cable modem we’d purchased couldn’t be hooked up and he’d have to install his cable modem instead. Kevin told him, in no uncertain terms, that we are not paying to rent his cable modem. (If we get a bill for it, I think Kevin will go ballistics.)
When Kevin arrived home last night, after bible study, he sat down and read a sheet of directions that were sitting there, left by the cable guy. In less than ten minutes, Kevin had figured out the entire process of hooking up our cable modem, called the cable company to get a hook-up number, and had it installed properly. It’s been running perfectly ever since. Needless to say, I was very proud of him. “Kevin,” I said, “If the law thing ends up not working out for you, a brilliant career awaits you in cable installation.”
Thursday, January 20, 2005
“Liberty will come to those who love it.”
I thought the inauguration speech was great. The only thing that left me with a little gnawing question inside was Bush’s statement that liberty will come to those who love it. What if you’ve never known liberty? How can you love something you don’t know?
Apparently there were 21 drafts of Bush’s second inaugural speech. I used to think it would be fun to be a speech writer but now I’m having second thoughts. Not only would the 21-draft thing provoke my patience (or lack thereof), I would also grow weary of constantly creating words to express the ideals and philosophies embraced by other people. It’s much more freeing to be able to express my own opinions. So, for now, I’ll stay in public policy. And, of course, I’ll happily remain a humble blogger.
_________________
As if it were yesterday, I distinctly remember the inauguration of four years ago. My good friend Meredith flew into town to attend the festivities with me. Somehow (through a very well connected co-worker), we got “tickets” to work (hang coats, pass out memorabilia, etc.) at the inaugural ball. We were so excited to be able to go, we didn’t care a lick that we’d have to work to get in. On January 20, 2001, we got up at the crack of dawn, stuffed our “ball gowns” (i.e., prom-like dresses) into bags, and took the metro into D.C. Pretty soon we met up with other friends and were herded like cattle onto the capitol lawn for the ceremony. It was 34 degrees and raining. (For all you Californians who don’t know what that’s like . . . it was pretty miserable.) But we loved every minute of it. The excitement of the moment carried our spirits and soon we were oblivious to the slushy mud beneath our feet, the dampness on our faces, and the numbness of our fingers.
We watched some of the parade, ate lunch at union station (Kevin was there and I think I liked him even then, but was in serious denial), tried to clean the mud off the hems of our pants, and were soon on our way to the D.C. Armory for the inaugural ball. As we got dressed in a cramped bathroom, Meredith and I both vowed that someday we’d come back as U.S. Senators so we could have covered, front row seats for the inauguration, a warm, ritzy hotel room to change clothes in, and tickets to attend the ball – rather than have to work at it. But, hey, when you’re 20 and 21 years old, respectively, (or any age, really) you can endure a lot when you love adventure and have big dreams. So, we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.
We wore our big, poofy dresses, walked around the ball like we were some bigwig’s daughters, took pictures of John Ashcroft and many other famous people (Meredith knew them all), and of course took lots of pictures of George W. Bush and Laura dancing.
As soon as we took our seats in the metro, I fell soundly asleep from exhaustion and Meredith took pictures of me snoozing with my mouth open. (When I later found out, I wanted to kill her.)
And that was the end of that wonderful, blissful, fatiguing day.
Apparently there were 21 drafts of Bush’s second inaugural speech. I used to think it would be fun to be a speech writer but now I’m having second thoughts. Not only would the 21-draft thing provoke my patience (or lack thereof), I would also grow weary of constantly creating words to express the ideals and philosophies embraced by other people. It’s much more freeing to be able to express my own opinions. So, for now, I’ll stay in public policy. And, of course, I’ll happily remain a humble blogger.
_________________
As if it were yesterday, I distinctly remember the inauguration of four years ago. My good friend Meredith flew into town to attend the festivities with me. Somehow (through a very well connected co-worker), we got “tickets” to work (hang coats, pass out memorabilia, etc.) at the inaugural ball. We were so excited to be able to go, we didn’t care a lick that we’d have to work to get in. On January 20, 2001, we got up at the crack of dawn, stuffed our “ball gowns” (i.e., prom-like dresses) into bags, and took the metro into D.C. Pretty soon we met up with other friends and were herded like cattle onto the capitol lawn for the ceremony. It was 34 degrees and raining. (For all you Californians who don’t know what that’s like . . . it was pretty miserable.) But we loved every minute of it. The excitement of the moment carried our spirits and soon we were oblivious to the slushy mud beneath our feet, the dampness on our faces, and the numbness of our fingers.
We watched some of the parade, ate lunch at union station (Kevin was there and I think I liked him even then, but was in serious denial), tried to clean the mud off the hems of our pants, and were soon on our way to the D.C. Armory for the inaugural ball. As we got dressed in a cramped bathroom, Meredith and I both vowed that someday we’d come back as U.S. Senators so we could have covered, front row seats for the inauguration, a warm, ritzy hotel room to change clothes in, and tickets to attend the ball – rather than have to work at it. But, hey, when you’re 20 and 21 years old, respectively, (or any age, really) you can endure a lot when you love adventure and have big dreams. So, we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.
We wore our big, poofy dresses, walked around the ball like we were some bigwig’s daughters, took pictures of John Ashcroft and many other famous people (Meredith knew them all), and of course took lots of pictures of George W. Bush and Laura dancing.
As soon as we took our seats in the metro, I fell soundly asleep from exhaustion and Meredith took pictures of me snoozing with my mouth open. (When I later found out, I wanted to kill her.)
And that was the end of that wonderful, blissful, fatiguing day.
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