Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Stolen Post

I have to credit my brother for alerting me to this video. His blog is hibinoseikatsu.blogspot.com
I have to hand it to my brother for being politically minded and actually considering what his opinion is in a world (BYU) of mostly sameish politics.

I love the Romney part, and I think it's awful, yet funny, so in a way scores him some points. Not sure on which board I would score those points, but at least they're out there.
I also like this post because right after I saw this I took several IQ tests on facebook. Which means I am way smarter than Abe Lincoln. YEAH!

Sunday, January 20, 2008


I should become a motivational speaker because I have been able to break several of my addictions over the years, and I almost never miss them.
Miracle Whip left me when I got to college and went on a food budget, and I've mostly totally given up best foods mayo (Helleman's on the East Coast). I gave it up completely until I got pregnant, and then I decided that mayo was absolutely necessary and I've been hanging onto it a little ever since (but rarely, like a glass of fine wine or something. In my case, it's mayo).
I gave up chapstick my senior year of high school after reading several articles about chapstick addiction. I always feel very proud of myself about it until I go to the mainland and I just feel my lips drying up into little shredded pieces of skin. So I always find myself buying a tube and then testing it out until I get on the airplane, stick it into my Hawaiian bathroom cupboard, and let it melt into old age.
TV was another thing to go with college, and I've not missed it. Especially because of the incredible invention of TV on DVD. You can also add that I've broken my addiction to commercials.
These may not seem like addictions, but they are, because pretty much everyone else partakes of them. I can also include carbonated drinks on that list, because I never liked them. I only drink them if I buy them from the Mexican grocery store (because they're special, apple or jamaica sodas, and guarana is quite tasty as well). See how amazing I am?
Wow, I'm feeling really great about myself. I even broke my addiction to ice cream, because I only ate the ice cream I made myself (in my new kitchenaid attachment) and the ice cream that Micah and Jill left in our fridge, and the ice cream that was included in the smoothie that Micah made for us. So really, I haven't had to buy any at all.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Baby Vomit: Read at your own risk, no editor on duty

I generally don't want to wallow in filth, but Jake suggested that I write about baby vomit. It does tell an interesting story, I believe.
Amaya has been sick for the last week, and she hasn't been eating anything. She vomits any time she puts even a little piece of something in her mouth. She can sometimes keep down a couple of bottles of infant formula for sensitive babies, so that's what we've been feeding her. The most interesting places this has occurred so far:
Our Bed (early early in the morning, and when I suggested to Jake that we needed to get up and clean it up, he said, "Yeah, 'cause I didn't want to sleep anyway," as if lying in vomit was a more sensible choice.)
On the rocking chair and inside the pocket of the armrest (while Jake was making macaroni and cheese for lunch--he emphasized to me how difficult it was to make macaroni, clean it up, and put her in the bath--I was at work, thank goodness.)
Subway (yes, the sandwich place. I'm not sure why we risked it. un/Luckily it was directly onto Jake's sandwich and the paper, so we were able to just wrap it up and throw it in the trash. Too bad he was still hungry.)
We'll keep you posted on any new developments. Ha ha.
This did make me think of my own childhood fear of vomiting in public. In Japan I was always severely dehydrated but we always thought it was the flu, so every time we visited when I was a kid I was always scoping out the nearest exit. This also happened in Australia when I was a teenager. I had no idea how poor fluid intake could affect you until I was a senior in high school. I learned that at cross country camp. Ran 33 miles in high altitudes in one day, and only drank about 24 oz of water. My coach lectured me between dry heaves.
This also reminds me of Ramona Quimby. Beverly Cleary perfectly describes the embarassment that a girl Ramona's age would feel about vomiting at school. As a teacher I've experienced it more than once, and I've been surprised about how my students reacted. More than once I've had to stop the other kids in the class from touching or examining it before it can get cleaned up. I do realize now that vomiting at school is much better, actually, because there is a person whose job it is to clean it up with their sawdust and rubber gloves and extra strength chemicals. It's terrible to say, but man, it's something I'm not very good at handling.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

The "New!" and "Improved!" Resolved

Jake said my new year's resolutions were boring.
Just what are you saying, Jake?
So here are the exciting ones.
#1. Learn how to do a quadruple kick flip while grinding on a handrail! Yeah!

#2. Build a roller coaster that encircles the moon and then ride it! Wooo!

#3. Very nearly almost die while attempting to infiltrate the habitat of some wild carnivorous animals! But then live! Rockin'!

I feel tired just thinking about it. Nap time! Yahoo!

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Hair Cut

Every time I cut my hair I remember how Ephraim told Cailin that she was only a half a woman when she chopped her hair off.
Maybe I am only half a woman, but I tell you, my neck is feeling like a whole woman.
My hair was getting ridiculous, as when I'd put it up in a pony tail my entire forehead was being pulled back in a poor man's face lift. While I admit that I've been getting saggy around the chin(s) region, I'd rather see that my hairline was not receding from the strain.
So I chopped it off. I told the woman 6 inches, and she cut off about 10. I know, why am I complaining? I mean, how many people even have 10 inches to cut off? And it still falls a few inches below my shoulders. The funniest part was how as she was cutting, it was looking more and more like her own hair cut. I guess imitation really is flattery.
So now I have bangs (actually, I cut those myself, another story) and this crazy layered hair cut. Jake says to me, in all seriousness, "Mariko, I really don't like your hair. You look like someone from the 80's." Yeah. It's true. Other people have been pretty nice about it, but even I think it looks pretty bad.
I cut my own bangs off in a fit (I was already in a bad mood). I tried to cut them long (like, past my eyes), but then they did this bouncy thing when they dried and fell well above my eyebrows. Hmmmm. It's funny because I think that's the exact look I was going for when I was thirteen and my bangs just stayed hopelessly listless. I immediately despaired and acted pissy for the rest of the day, but refused to admit it was because I'd given myself such a bad trim.
After I got over it, I decided that I have to have that sweeping to the side bangs look, but it hasn't worked yet. Probably because I refuse to do anything other than wash and brush (I don't even use conditioner any more). I kind of assumed that my hair would do exactly what I wanted it to do simply because I had a hairstyle in mind. I'll let you know when my positive thinking (is this what they teach in that book, "The Secret"?) results in that cute hair that I'm imagining.
When I went in for the rest of the hair cut, the hairdresser looked very sideways at my bangs. "So what do you want to do about those?" she asks. "Um, nothing." I say, scared that she wants to cut them even shorter. She did respect that part of my request, at least.
But really, I guess it's kind of nostalgic for me to have a bad hair cut. I mean, I spent most of my elementary and middle school years in a home perm with bangs. Yeah. I think my mom also was practicing some of that positive mental projection when we spent a couple of hours the night before school picture day (several years in a row, mind you) setting my hair in curlers, squeezing that nasty smelling solution, and rinsing in the kitchen sink. The next morning she would faithfully "pick" my hair and send me off to school. There is not one person who could look back at those pictures and think that home perms were a good idea.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008


#1. Take Amaya out every afternoon after school.
#2. Eat only GOOD treats. None of this crap I get from the store. That reminds me, I have an awesome homemade oreo cookies recipe.
#3. Write a book and win some kind of award. It can be hard, with all of the terrible young adult literature out there these days.
#4. Check my phone messages at school. Currently, my voice mail box is full.
#5. Cook new meals and update my old repertoire. This may require more cookbooks, which I have no problem with.
#6. Learn how to cut vegetables into matchsticks in a more efficient way. It's very important for Bi Bim Bap.
#7. Say something more interesting than "Tired," when someone asks me how I am.
#8. Complete a pull up. The last one I did was in middle school.
#9. Find some foods that Amaya likes other than Chef Boyardee, chocolate chips, and cheese. Vegetables, preferably.
#10. Deep clean my house at least once, rather than these quick clean ups I do while I tell myself I'll get to the cupboards and baseboards next time.
I'm sure I've got more, but I think this is enough to keep me busy. #7 will be a real challenge if I can actually do everything else.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

It's a girl!

Amaya is SOOO girly. Ridiculously girly. How did that happen?
We got her several things for Christmas. Her favorite? A doll stroller I picked up at the swap meet for a dollar. She found this kind of scary looking doll at Pam's house and carries it around all over the place. She cuddles it and says, "Beebee." At nursery while everyone is playing with play dough and trucks, she's rummaging through the doll pile. Rachel, her babysitter, bought her doll for Christmas, which was very perceptive of her. I totally didn't even think of it, which I should have, considering how much Amaya likes "beebees." The doll is a cheerleader and is pretty hilarious/disturbing. I think Amaya also came to the same conclusion. It says the following things.
#1. I stomp my feet, I boogie to the beat, I turn around, I touch the ground, I wiggle it, just a little bit.
#2. We're number one, we can't be number two, we're going to beat the *whatsees* outta you, the *whatsees* outta you.

I think for this case I must combine the descriptives. Disturbarious. I will probably disable the speaking function, once the arious part wears off a little.

Three things that have been bothering me lately....

1. I saw a car with the license plate "Big Dan." When I saw the guy driving it, I thought, "That is not Big Dan. Maybe I should call the police and told them someone stole Big Dan's car." I think people should consider the case of mistaken identity when they get personalized plates.

2. The word "hardly." Think about it. I can't stop thinking about it.

3. If I go out and get exercise, in order to stop looking this way, then people will see me looking this way. They will think things like, "Looks like another New Year's Resolution." It's an excuse, but it's a dang good one, I think.