sweet baby p...

my precious p is growing into

a little boy.

and i think i am at that stage in pregnancy where i

am beginning to mourn baby p.

i LOVE toddler p, 

walking, talking, laughing, cuddling,

tantruming.  :)

this really is such a fun stage,

a challenging one, but fun.

soon though, my little guy won't be the baby of the house.

how are we going to handle that?

its definitely not a "how can i love another child"

feeling.

much more of a my little baby boy,

will soon be off to college.

but at the moment?

he is refusing his nap again,

which i am fairly certain college boys would

NEVER do.

so at least i have that.

these were the days...

on a totally unrelated subject:

my current project is to use everything in my fridge

before i go to the grocery store again.

so tonight?

making homemade pizza dough

and topping it with blue cheese, lettuce, grape tomatoes.

grilled.  hope its delicious!

plus we'll have grilled zucchini boats with our extra

squash, more tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese.

and tomorrow?

the grocery store.

Crime to be Broke in America

Today I went down to the ferry building because I forgot to pack my lunch. I spent $11 on a bento box that I didn't enjoy that much just because I couldn't decide what I really wanted. Then, because I have a bit of a sweet tooth, I stopped by the candy shop and spent $7 on a package of chocolate graham wafers. Later in the afternoon I went with a co-worker to grab an afternoon cup of coffee and spent $3.95 on a chai tea latte.

While we were sitting and sipping in the evasive sunshine, an old woman who looked a little worse for the wear approached. "Excuse me, pardon me for interrupting and bothering you but I am wondering if either of you can help me get something to eat" she said. I was taken aback at her demeanor, clearly downtrodden and embarrassed. I wondered what had made her choose me instead of the 25+ other people sitting in the same area. Immediately I knew that I wasn't going to be able to turn her down. "What do you need that you would like me to help with?" I replied. "Just maybe a slice of pizza or a sandwich, doesn't have to be much". Since the city has quite a large (and aggressive) homeless population, it is not unusual for people to ask for money and be upset when you offer them food. This woman seemed genuine. I asked her if she'd like to walk across the street to subway so that she could order her own sandwich. She grinned with an empty mouth and said that sounded just fine and thank you for not being rude. We quietly walked together through the crosswalk and into the shop, engaging in some small talk but unable to hear each other well. There was a lot of smiling and nodding.

The women behind the counter seemed surprised when I directed her attention to the petite woman dressed in sweats, missing some teeth when she asked for my order. My friend was fairly soft spoken, so I needed to be there to relay the requests. "What kind of bread would you like?" the server asked. Your softest kind was the response. Please add turkey and swiss cheese. Do toppings come with or are they extra? She looked at me for approval. "They come with the sandwich", I said. "Please, order what you would like". Tomatoes and a little bit of dressing. I paid the bill of $4.95 as the cashier still looked curious about the situation.

I walked back to work with a little spring in my step. I'm not sure how hungry she was or if anyone else had helped her that day. But I gained a little bit of perspective about the things that I take for granted and hope that I can remember this lesson. Everyone deserves to be shown a little kindness. Regardless of my other charitable contributions, sometimes it just feels right to give in the moment.

It's Raining Men (Hallelujah?) Part One

First things first: Nothing has changed in my personal life and I definitely am not trying to go all Elizabeth Taylor out here on the West Coast. I've never really been a fan of giant jewelry. That being said, I realized while sharing a few of my most recent stories with LDL that they all involve some kind of bizarro conversation with a strange man. I've done my best to categorize them.

THE GAMBLER - "know when to walk away; know when to run"

Recently I was invited to an event by a member of senior management for my company. It was hosted by the Asian American Society of Architects and Engineers. The event included dinner (Chinese) and a speaker who happened to be the project manager for an upcoming $4.6 billion sewer reconstruction project. The goal was to present a good image about our company. I'm the token "diverse engineer" (as a white female - duh). Anyway, during the meet and greet mingling session everyone jostled for a place between the presenter's table in the front of the room and the bar. Being the crazy observant person that I am (it's not normal to locate an exit immediately?), I spot an unfortunate looking character. He is definitely passed middle age, shorter than 5'8", wearing an old school Texas-style string neck tie, transition glasses midway through transitioning and a hat that is best described as a cross between a cowboy hat and one used by fishermen. Flaps tied up obviously. I've sketched a picture: please remember I am an artist by desire only.

So this man "Walter" saddles up next to my manager, a co-worker and myself and begins selling his trade. Ignoring me. Turns out he is a "private consultant" looking to be paid by the hour for engineering work. It was clear he did not think I was important enough to impress and bypassed me when handing out his business card. As he was leaving, he scooted up behind me and whispered in my right ear. Immediately I am two things: Perturbed and Losing. Because he is speaking into an ear that hasn't worked in 27 years it appears by my body language (turned toward him, neck arched, reading lips) that I am actually interested in what he is saying. What's really happening is that I am listening intently, desperate not to accidentally volunteer for something. What follows is a series of questions that I deem totally inappropriate and so I lie. I lie easily. It's scary how easy it was to make things up. It saved me this time but oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. Self-defense is excusable right?

Gambler: What's your name? How old are you? Where do you live? Do you have roommates? What are your favorite places to go? Can I look you up on your firm's website? I notice you aren't wearing a ring - good thing for guys like me. Have you ever been to The Starlight Lounge? I'm there practically every night. I'd love to take you to dinner there. No? Huh. Okay, well if you change your mind or just want to stop by it is located - location conveniently forgotten. Enjoy your evening. Here is my card in case you want to get in touch. Extra long gaze into my eyes and purposeful finger graze. I threw up in my mouth a bit.

It's funny how when he was looking for work he didn't have enough business cards to hand one to me but when he is looking for company at the Starlight Lounge he has plenty. Gross.

So that's it folks. Just another day in the life of a young(ish) engineer, desperate to break free of cubicle land.

Decisions, Decisions

It seems that all I have to do to get a audition that would pay decent money, is plan a trip I really want to go on.

Once again, this is the case. I am, and have been, planning on joining the eldest of the bloggers out west for a little snow shredding session, which will no doubt, be awesome.

As I checked my email this morning, I saw an email from my agent. Awesome. Any sort of audition at this juncture is welcome. Oh, the shoot dates coincide directly with the dates of the ski trip. Yikes.

What to do, what to do.

I could go to the audition, and book the job, and not go skiing. Or tell my agent about the trip, and not go to the audition, and risk drawing the ire of my agent. Of course there is the much more likely scenario of going to the audition and not booking the job, which would not make the agent mad(since they would be none the wiser about the dilemma ) and allow me to grace the slopes of Park City with my presence. Of course this would mean money left on the table.

I guess there is no use in crying over spilled milk, or milk that's still in the carton, or milk that's spilled directly into the sink.

Tune in next time to find out what happens.