2/9/10

perfection

auntie b, the kids, and i spent last Saturday evening at the theater. to amuse ourselves, and attempt to be terribly civilized, we taught the kids to pronounce theater, "thee-ah-tah".
sam says, "fee-ah-ter", with a delightful brooklyn accent.
on the ride home in the car, the following conversation took place.


maria: mom, i have a funny question.
mom: what's that?
maria: do perfect people fart?
mom: yes.
maria: good, because i just did.

2/6/10

grandparents day

maria's school had grandparent's day last week. all of the official grandparents live out of town, so much so that flying in for a wednesday morning performance is a bit much to ask.

thankfully, our local grandpa (uncle h) was more than willing to stand in as grandpa extraordinaire for the day. he behaved himself nicely and represented the cedros clan quite well.
we liberated the girlo from school early and whisked her away for a lunch at her favorite local joint where, in true grandpa form, uncle h surprised her with a cookie.

2/4/10

dig, dig, digging

we received a flier announcing the necessary replacement of sewer pipes on our street. I could hear neighbors groan about the blocked streets and the general mess while we shouted, hooray!
to us, construction vehicles making a huge mess in front of our house is better than cable.
they've been working around the neighborhood so we've done a few construction drive bys to check out the action. there are lots of holes in the streets, big excavators, dump trucks and odd shaped pieces of pipe that are mesmerizing to my little truck obsessed dude.

it's all sam can talk about, so last weekend - when the coast was clear - we headed out to investigate the equipment they have dropped off in anticipation of digging this week.

i know i shouldn't let the kids play around the stuff, but i'm just as giddy around heavy machinery as my son - so we all broke the rules and promised not to tell gramma.

when the digging officially began yesterday, the wee cedri begged to eat dinner on the front steps so as not to miss any of the action. we opted not to do dinner al fresco, but did make a plan to make cookies for the workers this weekend.

another successful distraction by le mama.

2/3/10

perspective

the majority of my life is filled with hand holding, challenging conversations, and the explanation of rules - both at home and at work. unfortunately people in both locations are grumpier than i would like, for a variety of reasons, and i wish i could fix it and make everyone happy.
auntie b send me this article. i think it is hysterical and dead on, offering a lovely perspective on our unrealistic attitudes and general disappointment towards everything.
i wish we could return to a culture that was positive and more respectful (yes, Justice Alito, I'm looking at you!).

What the hell is wrong with you? Are you really going to wear that? Why aren't you right now cooking me a nice meal and wearing those hot boy shorts you know I love and saying those words you know I want to hear at exactly the moment I like to hear them, to make me feel better about everything, even though I probably won't?

What happened to my bonus? What happened to my job? What happened to my country? Why can't it all go the way it's supposed to go? You mean having a kid won't solve my marriage problems? Why don't these drugs make me feel better? Where's that goddamn waiter with my salad? Have you seen the stupid weather today? Is this really all there is?

These are, from what I can glean, the most important questions of the day, of the month, of modern life itself. Hell, what with the economy and job situation, the housing market and the overall feel and texture of the nation right now, it's no wonder Americans are, by and large, a goddamn miserable bunch. We don't like anything right now. No politician, no decision, no situation, no inhale, no exhale. We are sick to death of all of it, including ourselves.

Can you blame us? Have you seen how many things there to be disappointed about these days? Love. Sex. Marriage. Stock market. God. Gas mileage. Death. Air travel. 5/9ths of the Supreme Court. It's all just a big goddamn letdown. The list is endless. And getting endlesser.

The evidence is everywhere. I calculate it took about seven minutes, give or take, after Steve Jobs finished introducing the shinypretty iPad before the whiny attacks on the wondergizmo began flooding in, how it didn't have this or that expected feature, how it can't do live video chat, doesn't have Flash, the bezel is too big and it won't double as a meat thermometer, how it doesn't really revolutionize much of anything despite how it's, you know, this gorgeous 1.5-pound slab of aluminum and glass that works flawlessly and can perform roughly one thousand tasks in a more fluid and astonishing way than any device of its kind in history.

Big f--ing deal. We just do not care. It's all a big disappointment. Hey, I was expecting to be blown away. I was expecting miracles and transformations and multiple twitching orgasms on sight. Do not come at me with tantalizing promises only to reveal that you can fulfill most of them to a fairly good degree, and not far exceed all of them in every imaginable way. We're Americans, goddammit. Ye shall know us by the tang of our bitter and untenable jadedness.

Also, global warming? Total effing letdown. Americans are no longer believing in it. Do you know why? Not because the mountains of scientific proof aren't there. Not because it's not happening. But because it's not yet happening to us like they said it would in the movies and those worst-case scenario books. Where are the zombies? The ice forests? Where's the tidal wave crashing over the Himalayas? I want my goddamn apocalypse, and I want it now.

Hey, you annoying gay people? Ditto, to you. All this uproar about rights and gender, all this talk about how gay marriage is now legal in a handful of states, and still the very fabric of whiny sad 50-percent divorce rate Christian society has yet to unravel and cause riots and induce all white Midwestern children to spontaneously combust. I mean, WTF? So disappointing.

My God, did you hear that pathetic State of the Union? That guy, that President Obama? Disappointing times a thousand, am I right? What the hell happened to him? Why is he so weak and ineffectual? Why the hell can't he step up and fix the entire planet in under 400 days like he promised he would, in my dreams and fantasies and impossible liberal grass-fed organic tofu greengasms? Doesn't he know I put a goddamn bumper sticker on my Subaru for him? I've never done that for anyone. Bastard.

He's only accomplished what, about 100 of the things I expected him to accomplish by now? Big deal. I have, like, 5,000 more. Health care reform has failed. Guantanamo is still open. Wars are still warring. Jobs are still sucking. Gays are still unhappy because the entire human understanding of love and gender in this nation has not completely transformed within a year. Infuriating!

But the biggest disappointment of all? Turns out one calm n' brilliant Barack Obama isn't enough to solve the problem of 535 vile n' slothful congressional jackals who aren't Barack Obama. Go figure.

Shall we recall just how violently disappointed those fundamentalists were when Bush bumbled off the stage, the single greatest disaster as president we will ever know? They were, of course, mostly disappointed Bush wasn't able to do far more repellant damage than he did. They wanted nothing less than full-scale war on Islam, death to all abortion doctors, creationism in schools, homosexuality banned outright, all you scary women to please stop it with your needy n' terrifying vaginas. You know, the usual.

And now it's the hardcore Dems' turn, in reverse. Obama cannot do enough good, fast enough. He is failing as our personal SuperJesus. Not because he's not accomplishing volumes and making all sorts of history, but because we were expecting total mindblowing revolution. Hey, it's his own fault, right? He's the one that set out one of the most ambitious agendas in presidential history to go along with the million-mile hole he has to dig us out of first. Can you blame us for whining?

But we don't stop there. Not only are we disappointed, we need to express it. Vent it. Hiss it and spit it and hurl it like fistfuls of mental manure at the great wall of hey, screw you.

You have but to take a peek in the comments section below this column, any column, any article on this or any news site whatsoever, to see just how mean and nasty we have become. It does not matter what the piece might be about. Obama's speech. High Speed Rail. Popular Dog breeds. Your grandmother's cookies. The anonymous comments section of any major media site or popular blog will be so crammed with bile and bickering, accusation and pule, hatred and sneer you can't help but feel violently disappointed by the shocking lack of basic human kindness and respect, much less a sense of positivism or perspective.

Maybe this, then, is the ultimate upshot of our endless, self-wrought swirl of sour disappointment, of never having our impossible needs fully met, of constantly being thwarted in our desire to have the world revolve around our exact set of specifications and desires.

Our disappointment begins to curdle, to turn back on itself, poison the heart, turn us nasty and low. It shifts from merely being a national mood or general temperament, into a way of being. A wiring, deep and harmful and permanent. It's all very disappointing, really.

2/1/10

chef marf

i don't make a lot of resolutions, but this year i decided to spend some time learning to cook. daddyo is a fabulous cook and my skills tend to be more of the sous chef and dish washer variety. he's such a good cook and life is so crazy that i rarely take the time to try to cook something challenging by myself.

i wanted to practice, but also wanted a forgiving audience, so i hatched a plan to do monthly dinners with kates and auntie b.

they are both phenomenal cooks; they are also honest enough to tell me if something isn't quite right, and loving enough to tell me how fabulous my hair looks.
so the monthly potluck dinner was created.

here are the rules: we choose a particular chef, or cookbook, the host does the main dish and the others duke it out for apps, side dishes and dessert.
for our inaugural dinner we chose Ina Garten, her recipes are simple and delightful - perfect for me to try something new and not be overwhelmed by ingredients i can neither find nor pronounce.

our menu:
roasted pears with blue cheese
tomato basil elephant ears
spinach gratin
fennel stuffed pork loin
apple crostata





there's a line in Kitchen Confidential where Bourdain says he never hires italians as sous chefs because they always mess with the recipe. daddyo has that kind of confidence with his cooking. i lack that level of culinary confidence, but i don't like to follow directions and while we were at the store we both mentioned altering the recipe. our little change was perfect, but all of the dishes turned out spectacularly well and i have a new dish to add to my tiny repertoire.

next month we will be cooking brunch out of the macrina bakery cookbook

1/30/10

van doesburg

here's a fun little thing that incorporates two things i love, typeface and silly quizzes.

i'm am van doesburg which means i furiously believe all letters are created equal.
that's essentially true, but i'll confess that M, K & F rock the alphabetical casbah.

* password is character

1/27/10

sass

i love my chuck taylors.
they remind me of high school; english beat, talking heads, the eurythmics, ragstock, art class and being cool.
miss moo got a new pair and you can tell she is feeling the sass of the chucks.

a few days a week she goes to a school run aftercare program. it's for kids K-8 and there are several older girls who love hanging with the little ones.
maria has learned a ton of schoolyard rhymes, which after reading Iona Opie's the people in the playground, i find to be a fascinating look at culture.

here's a taste of one of my favorites. i have to confess, i was a bit taken aback when she mentioned the part about kicking your boyfriend out of town, but truthfully some boys need the boot and there is no better shoe to do it in than your chucks.
video