Thursday, June 5, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Look!
Who knew Salt Lake City was such a rockin'town? Despite its bizarre liquor laws and all the rumors about it, it is actually an ok place to spend a week. I don't know what I like more - the bakeries, the mountains, the shopping or this:
Just in case you might be so inclined to run out into the street without looking or something, you know...
Just in case you might be so inclined to run out into the street without looking or something, you know...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
boinkage
The mr. is taking an anthropology class this semester and right now he's currently learning all about different cultures' notions of kinship. I happen to love anthropology and was secretely thrilled when he started recording the lectures and listening to them at home. I happened to be around and wasn't really doing anything productive when he replayed the last lecture, so I listened in and little did I know at that time that my listening to that lecture would set the stage for a chain of events which would also lead to a (ok, relatively miniscule) chip being made in Mimsy's (as in little 15-month-old inoocent, elfin Mimsy) innocence.
Now, before I say anymore, come closer. There's some pretty racy material here, folks.
That particular lecture was on the Canela Indians of Brazil. (You can read about them here, if you're so inclined.) From our primitive Western Judeo-Christian point of view, their notion of family is pretty odd. Basically, the culture is matrilineal (meaning that, unlike our society, inheritance is passed through the mother's side of the family.) And that ain't all. Apparently, extramarital sex is not a taboo. In fact, it's the norm. Fidelity is considered deviant.
But that's not what I wanted to tell you. I was just setting the stage. See, the professor apparently wanted to convey to his students that these people are doing nothing wrong and should not be judged because "Hey, sex is fun! Sex is great! There's no problem there! Everyone loves sex! Why shouldn't we do it all the time, with everybody?...And he used the word "boinkage" in there, not once, not twice, but many times. )
As for the extramarital sex, he apparently thought that this concept would be difficult for his students to grasp, because he was very explicit in his explaining it, and used several examples. My favorite was the last example he gave: ..."so imagine that I'm married to so-and-so (points to girl sitting in front of mr. redbench)... Now, since I'm married to her, we can have sex. Lots of sex. We can have as much sex as we want because we're married. But that's not all. Besides me, she can have sex with whoever she wants!..." at which point mr. redbench stopped the recording because I was huddled up in the fetal position on the floor laughing and he couldn't concentrate on the rest of the lecture. And then, being the drama queen that I am (and I mean that both literally and figuratively) I had to go into my own monologue about the subject.
So there I stood in my livingroom, wearing a grossly mismatched outfit and a stocking cap on my head (it was cold, alright?) doing my rendition of mr redbench's anthro class. It was something like this:
"Yeah, sex is great, sex is fun, sex is incredible! Sex is good for you! In fact, why don't we all have sex right now? Right here. Come on, who's first? Who wants a piece of me? .... (laughing)" ..."If I were married to what's-her-face-over-there I would have sex with her all the time, day and night, we'd be having sex on the bed, we'd be having sex on the floor.... on the kitchen table... on the rug, on the table again, in my car, on the kitchen counter... and then her mom walks in and I have sex with her, too..."
And then I stopped. I mean, it just got old all of the sudden. And then, then, my precious little darling of a daughter, who had apparently been enjoying the whole spectacle, and who just last week entered an adorable yet ever so slightly inconvenient phase in which she repeats things that we say without knowing what she's saying, clapped her hands, smiled at me and exclaimed: "Sex!"
What is a mother to do? At least she didn't say boinkage.
Now, before I say anymore, come closer. There's some pretty racy material here, folks.
That particular lecture was on the Canela Indians of Brazil. (You can read about them here, if you're so inclined.) From our primitive Western Judeo-Christian point of view, their notion of family is pretty odd. Basically, the culture is matrilineal (meaning that, unlike our society, inheritance is passed through the mother's side of the family.) And that ain't all. Apparently, extramarital sex is not a taboo. In fact, it's the norm. Fidelity is considered deviant.
But that's not what I wanted to tell you. I was just setting the stage. See, the professor apparently wanted to convey to his students that these people are doing nothing wrong and should not be judged because "Hey, sex is fun! Sex is great! There's no problem there! Everyone loves sex! Why shouldn't we do it all the time, with everybody?...And he used the word "boinkage" in there, not once, not twice, but many times. )
As for the extramarital sex, he apparently thought that this concept would be difficult for his students to grasp, because he was very explicit in his explaining it, and used several examples. My favorite was the last example he gave: ..."so imagine that I'm married to so-and-so (points to girl sitting in front of mr. redbench)... Now, since I'm married to her, we can have sex. Lots of sex. We can have as much sex as we want because we're married. But that's not all. Besides me, she can have sex with whoever she wants!..." at which point mr. redbench stopped the recording because I was huddled up in the fetal position on the floor laughing and he couldn't concentrate on the rest of the lecture. And then, being the drama queen that I am (and I mean that both literally and figuratively) I had to go into my own monologue about the subject.
So there I stood in my livingroom, wearing a grossly mismatched outfit and a stocking cap on my head (it was cold, alright?) doing my rendition of mr redbench's anthro class. It was something like this:
"Yeah, sex is great, sex is fun, sex is incredible! Sex is good for you! In fact, why don't we all have sex right now? Right here. Come on, who's first? Who wants a piece of me? .... (laughing)" ..."If I were married to what's-her-face-over-there I would have sex with her all the time, day and night, we'd be having sex on the bed, we'd be having sex on the floor.... on the kitchen table... on the rug, on the table again, in my car, on the kitchen counter... and then her mom walks in and I have sex with her, too..."
And then I stopped. I mean, it just got old all of the sudden. And then, then, my precious little darling of a daughter, who had apparently been enjoying the whole spectacle, and who just last week entered an adorable yet ever so slightly inconvenient phase in which she repeats things that we say without knowing what she's saying, clapped her hands, smiled at me and exclaimed: "Sex!"
What is a mother to do? At least she didn't say boinkage.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
from the mouth of mimsy
Mimsy: baba! baba! baba!
Me: (handing her the sippy cup) here's your baba.
Mimsy: (pointing at box of cookeis) baaaaaaaaaaaaaabaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Me: No, that's not a baba. Those are cookies. Here's your baba. (handing her sippy cup)
Mimsy: (pointing at cookies) baba!
Me: No, cookies. This is your baba.
Mimsy: (demanding) BABABABABABABABABABABA!
Me: COOKIESCOOKIESCOOKIESCOOKIES!
Mimsy: (mumbles...) bookie?
Me: (handing her the sippy cup) here's your baba.
Mimsy: (pointing at box of cookeis) baaaaaaaaaaaaaabaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Me: No, that's not a baba. Those are cookies. Here's your baba. (handing her sippy cup)
Mimsy: (pointing at cookies) baba!
Me: No, cookies. This is your baba.
Mimsy: (demanding) BABABABABABABABABABABA!
Me: COOKIESCOOKIESCOOKIESCOOKIES!
Mimsy: (mumbles...) bookie?
Monday, February 11, 2008
Monday
It's a happy Monday in the corner of the blogosphere that I inhabit. Beth and Chris welcomed Owen Gregory yesterday, and Leanne came home from the hospital! I don't know which news makes me happier! So, while I'm chipping through layers and layers of ice to get to my car that's under there somewhere and scowling at the wind and sleet as I dodge falling icicles and larges chunks of ice, I will be smiling on the inside.
Happy Monday, everyone.
Happy Monday, everyone.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
About
I am Za (I know you know that's not my real name, and that's ok) I'm a 20-something grad student at a well-known university in a certain Midwestern capital but I won't tell you in what because 1, it would be possible to at least make an educated guess as to my identity if the wrong eyes should happen upon my blog and 2, no one would believe me, anyway. I am a petite brunette who never quite grew out of her adolescence geekiness and has an affinity for peppermint hot chocolate, theater, thrift-store shopping. I have seen every episode of Seinfeld at least a gazillion times and I never, ever pay full price for anything.
I am married to a man I'll call the mr., a 20-something import from South America who likes cars, airplanes and poetry, writes a mean sonnet and makes one hell of a meat dumpling. We disagree on virtually everything and no one can quite understand why we even went out on a second date, let alone got married. I am ambivalent about my marriage and don't really feel like talking about it. But just on a side note, the mr's initials happen to be M.F. So if I use that acronym to refer to him from time to time, you'll know that's the reason. Right.
In November 2006 we welcomed a wonderful little surprise who I'll call Mimsy. Mimsy is quite elflike, both in appearance and demeanor. However, I do believe she is also part monkey and part rodent. She enjoys eating blueberries, cuddling stuffed animals, imitating doggies and kitties, saying "mama" and "duck" and analyzing small bits of lint. She is the love of my life and although sometimes I grow a bit tired of her incessant whining, I will not sell her. Ever. So don't ask.
Together, we live in a tiny, tiny apartment full of books, random junk that we got for free, and Mimsy's stuffed animals companions. mr. redbench works full time and goes to school full-time. I teach college students a language that they'll probably never use and unlike them, I actually use that language every day in my readings and writings. Mimsy's job is to be cute, and that she does.
So, now you know what it's like to be me. What's it like to be you?
I am married to a man I'll call the mr., a 20-something import from South America who likes cars, airplanes and poetry, writes a mean sonnet and makes one hell of a meat dumpling. We disagree on virtually everything and no one can quite understand why we even went out on a second date, let alone got married. I am ambivalent about my marriage and don't really feel like talking about it. But just on a side note, the mr's initials happen to be M.F. So if I use that acronym to refer to him from time to time, you'll know that's the reason. Right.
In November 2006 we welcomed a wonderful little surprise who I'll call Mimsy. Mimsy is quite elflike, both in appearance and demeanor. However, I do believe she is also part monkey and part rodent. She enjoys eating blueberries, cuddling stuffed animals, imitating doggies and kitties, saying "mama" and "duck" and analyzing small bits of lint. She is the love of my life and although sometimes I grow a bit tired of her incessant whining, I will not sell her. Ever. So don't ask.
Together, we live in a tiny, tiny apartment full of books, random junk that we got for free, and Mimsy's
So, now you know what it's like to be me. What's it like to be you?
Saturday, February 9, 2008
First
I've been sitting here staring at the screen for 45 minutes. I've typed 2 or 3 words in that time, and then promptly erased them. I've wanted to blog for a long time now, but didn't think I could do it. Not because I'm computer-illiterate (I'm not). Not because I'm shy. (I'm not) Not because I don't have anything to blog about. (I do). I just can't get started. For the past few days I've been posting nonsense in the hopes that I would be able to write a first entry more easily if it wasn't the first entry. But that didn't work. I'm too smart for that, I guess. So, you tell me. If you're here at this point, it's probably because I commented on your blog. Which means you have a blog. So, you tell me. How do you deal with that first post?
Friday, February 8, 2008
Last post
I didn't post that last one. It was blogarama. But it sounds kind of cool, so I'll leave it.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Question
Why is it that every school and institution of higher learning in this half of the state is closed today because of the white out, except for the one that I work at?
Who would YOU vote for?
If you happen to stumble upon my blog, I would like to point you in the direction of a very interesting site:
http://www.wqad.com/Global/link.asp?L=259460
after a quick quiz it will tell you who you should vote for, based on the issues alone. According to my quiz, I should vote for Mike Gravel. Interesting.
Hump Day Haiku: New Blog Edition
I've got a new blog
It's purple and red and white.
Read it read it read it, please!
It's purple and red and white.
Read it read it read it, please!
This is a bit awkward....
I want to blog, and I want my blog to be read. So, as tempted as I am to say "what the heck, no one is reading me anyway, so I'm not going to write..." I am going to keep writing, and eventually, someone will read me.
Monday, February 4, 2008
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