I've decided that Victoria's Secret must not like men very much. I know that sounds somewhat irrational given that the retailer provides great joy to men who date/marry Victoria's Secret shoppers and provides great "catalogs" for those men that don't. But how else can you explain the BioFit Seven Way Bra ? I was walking through the mall recently when the V.S. window sign advertising the BioFit scared the hell out of me. Apparently, this technological marvel has straps that can be fastened in seven different configurations. There's the Standard, the CrissCross, the Crossback, the ZigZag, the Loopty-Loo, the Flying V and the Cloverleaf. For decades, men have been confounded by ordinary bra straps and clasps, now we have to wrestle something that I need an engineering degree to decipher? Hopefully, the packaging includes a diagram and instructions for removal.
As a married man I know there is a narrow window between "Let's fool around," and "Nevermind, I wonder who's on Letterman,". I can't be wasting crucial seconds staring at blueprints. If Amanda purchases one of these things I may be in real trouble. I'm going to have to dispatch some Bothan spies to steal the plans to this thing or the Rebellion in my pants is going to be short-lived. Of course, even with instructions I'd still need my ham hands to cooperate. I'm not exactly operating with a surgeon's finesse. I'd hoped that as I aged I'd get smoother and more confident, kinda like the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World, but now this bra threatens to make that a "one step forward, two steps back" proposition. Thanks, Victoria's Secret.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Rejected Halloween Costume #2
Amanda has vetoed another Halloween costume for the girl: Grace and I wearing matching white suits. Ah, just as well, she's too young to say "Da plane, Da plane." anyway.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
"There was nothing normal about that."
My daughter Grace had surgery five weeks ago to repair a partial cleft of her soft palate. The surgery was successful thanks to the fine docs and staff at Johns Hopkins. While sitting around Grace's room after the surgery I was thinking about how I would describe the whole process. I thought about Tom Petty's lyric, "the waiting is the hardest part". And the waiting was tough-the anxious anticipation in the preceding days, the nervousness during the actual surgery and the boredom in the room after the surgery -but it turns out the waiting was not nearly the hardest part. In the evening following the surgery Grace sent a worrisome father's heart rate skyrocketing, giving me the biggest scare of my life.
As I said, the surgery was a success; we simply had to stay overnight until Grace recuperated enough to start feeding properly. Around dinnertime, Grace, who was acting pretty happy, if a little off from the anesthesia and her big day, decided to throw up. Blood. A lot of blood. One moment she's sitting in her hospital crib looking around. One cough later she's pouring out a coffee colored Niagra Falls. Sissy Spacek had less blood poured on her in Carrie. I don't know how Grace's digestive system housed that much blood. And, of course, her little body decided to do this while the nurse was out of the room.
I have genuinely feared for my safety a handful of times in my life, but I've never been as scared as I was at that instant. In that way that time slows and you can think a thousand things in a millisecond, I was instantly afraid for her, wondered what the hell was going on and felt incredibly helpless. As Amanda ran to Grace's side, I punched the nurse call button and, in what I can only imagine was a squeaky Peter Brady croak, yelled to them to please send someone because my daughter was vomiting blood everywhere. Grace, who has grown into big girl, suddenly looked impossibly tiny sitting in a blood covered hospital gown.
Our nurse responded immediately and calmly explained that this occurence was normal post-surgery and that since the blood was not bright red (fresh) we shouldn't be concerned. (I should say here that this was one of the instances that made the Hopkins experience great. The nurse was in no way condascending or dismissive when she explained all this. She understood our concern and anxiety, but her calm kept us calm. Because in my mind all I could think was that this was anything but normal.) So, since the blood looked like barbecue sauce and not bright red Hollywood blood the sutures were probably intact and the blood Grace threw up was old blood that had drained down her throat during and since the surgery. A visit from the Plastics resident confirmed this and set us somewhat at ease. Although, the resident also used the word normal and I maintain there was nothing normal about what I witnessed.
Hopefully, I'll never again experience that combination of fear and helplessness. The good news was that The Puking, though it scared Amanda and I, made Grace feel a whole bunch better. Grace has a check-up next week to see how she is healing. Hopefully, that day I'll hear the word normal and believe it.
As I said, the surgery was a success; we simply had to stay overnight until Grace recuperated enough to start feeding properly. Around dinnertime, Grace, who was acting pretty happy, if a little off from the anesthesia and her big day, decided to throw up. Blood. A lot of blood. One moment she's sitting in her hospital crib looking around. One cough later she's pouring out a coffee colored Niagra Falls. Sissy Spacek had less blood poured on her in Carrie. I don't know how Grace's digestive system housed that much blood. And, of course, her little body decided to do this while the nurse was out of the room.
I have genuinely feared for my safety a handful of times in my life, but I've never been as scared as I was at that instant. In that way that time slows and you can think a thousand things in a millisecond, I was instantly afraid for her, wondered what the hell was going on and felt incredibly helpless. As Amanda ran to Grace's side, I punched the nurse call button and, in what I can only imagine was a squeaky Peter Brady croak, yelled to them to please send someone because my daughter was vomiting blood everywhere. Grace, who has grown into big girl, suddenly looked impossibly tiny sitting in a blood covered hospital gown.
Our nurse responded immediately and calmly explained that this occurence was normal post-surgery and that since the blood was not bright red (fresh) we shouldn't be concerned. (I should say here that this was one of the instances that made the Hopkins experience great. The nurse was in no way condascending or dismissive when she explained all this. She understood our concern and anxiety, but her calm kept us calm. Because in my mind all I could think was that this was anything but normal.) So, since the blood looked like barbecue sauce and not bright red Hollywood blood the sutures were probably intact and the blood Grace threw up was old blood that had drained down her throat during and since the surgery. A visit from the Plastics resident confirmed this and set us somewhat at ease. Although, the resident also used the word normal and I maintain there was nothing normal about what I witnessed.
Hopefully, I'll never again experience that combination of fear and helplessness. The good news was that The Puking, though it scared Amanda and I, made Grace feel a whole bunch better. Grace has a check-up next week to see how she is healing. Hopefully, that day I'll hear the word normal and believe it.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Welcome New Readers
Since I may have a few new readers via Facebook (thanks for reading guys) I have decided to post links to some of my favorite posts so that, if so inclined, new readers can check out some of my older stuff without having to read all of the archives. Check out these links to see my thoughts on:profiling potential terrorists, why I despise Coldstone Creamery , my frustrating weed eater ,space travel , how President Bush has lost my respect, the marketing of the human male, flea markets, my fear of foodborne illness, the wussification of America, my raging germophobia, my first solo trip with Grace to the grocery store and my adventures as an amateur orthodontist.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Rejected Halloween Costume.
I'm sure this will not be the last, but I have had my first halloween costume for Grace vetoed by the wife. I thought we should dress Grace like the creature from Alien and then I would wear her in the Baby Bjorn which would be decorated so it looked like she was bursting from my gut just like the movie. Oh well, back to the drawing board.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
We Now Return To Regularly Scheduled Programming.
Okay, so that was a much longer hiatus than I anticipated. I haven't blogged since early June because it has been a very busy summer. Since Memorial Day I have: moved (twice, technically), started working at the Big Green Bookstore again (glad to be back working with my buds), stepped down as the Governor of Alaska (You Betcha!), sweated my Dad's five day hospital stay (he's fine), ignored my fantasy baseball team (sorry Warren), learned much (about myself and others), helped remodel our rental house(man, I hate painting), called the President a liar during a joint session of Congress, beamed proudly as Grace learned to crawl and pull herself up (she'll walk soon I think), worried mightily through her cleft surgery and recovery (she recovered great and hasn't missed a beat), memorized a half-dozen Elmo DVDs ("Read, read, read, read, Elmo's a pirate who loves to read."), was eliminated from the AL East race by September 1st (wait, that was the Orioles) and had reaffirmed for me what I already knew (that as long as I have Amanda and Grace, I have everything I need). Now that I've updated, how about a return to snarky, sarcastic, insignificant opinion and nonsense?
Even though I wasn't writing, I spent the summer observing, worrying, cheering, reading, complaining, fretting, watching TV, wallowing in pessimism...well, the usual. I have some notes, on paper and in my head, so hopefully I'll have some rapid fire posts out of the gate. Though, time management is not a strong suit of mine and available time seems ever dwindling. We'll see. Tonight I start with a short post-a few unimportant questions that have been nagging me lately.
Will landscape designers who plan layouts for business properties ever take into consideration how their shrubs/trees/hedges affect a driver's ability to see oncoming traffic? I'm tired of having my front end almost ripped off by a passing vehicle because I've had to inch out into the street to peer around an ill-placed hedge. Or maybe I should just stop going to the mall.
How did it take me this long to discover Chick-Fil-A's chicken mini breakfast sandwiches? A chicken nugget on soft, buttered roll that is the exact size of the opening of the barbecue sauce container, thereby making it perfect for dipping? Brilliant!
Why is it that while plaid shorts are deemed acceptable summer attire, plaid pants are considered ridiculous?
If Dan Brown writes a book, but there's nobody there to buy it, is it still the biggest release of the year?
Should I feel guilty if, while eating the aforementioned chicken mini, I pass a tractor trailer loaded with chickens stuffed into cages?
What will happen to all the Marvel themed rides at Universal Studios theme parks now that Disney has purchased Marvel for $4 billion? Coming in 2010-The Incredible Bulk roller coaster and Slider-man 3D thrill ride!
I understand being required to carry car insurance because I may harm someone else, but why must I be forced to carry health insurance? Of course I have coverage now, but if I was single and healthy I would consider skipping it (if given that option by our heavy-handed President.)
Even though I wasn't writing, I spent the summer observing, worrying, cheering, reading, complaining, fretting, watching TV, wallowing in pessimism...well, the usual. I have some notes, on paper and in my head, so hopefully I'll have some rapid fire posts out of the gate. Though, time management is not a strong suit of mine and available time seems ever dwindling. We'll see. Tonight I start with a short post-a few unimportant questions that have been nagging me lately.
Will landscape designers who plan layouts for business properties ever take into consideration how their shrubs/trees/hedges affect a driver's ability to see oncoming traffic? I'm tired of having my front end almost ripped off by a passing vehicle because I've had to inch out into the street to peer around an ill-placed hedge. Or maybe I should just stop going to the mall.
How did it take me this long to discover Chick-Fil-A's chicken mini breakfast sandwiches? A chicken nugget on soft, buttered roll that is the exact size of the opening of the barbecue sauce container, thereby making it perfect for dipping? Brilliant!
Why is it that while plaid shorts are deemed acceptable summer attire, plaid pants are considered ridiculous?
If Dan Brown writes a book, but there's nobody there to buy it, is it still the biggest release of the year?
Should I feel guilty if, while eating the aforementioned chicken mini, I pass a tractor trailer loaded with chickens stuffed into cages?
What will happen to all the Marvel themed rides at Universal Studios theme parks now that Disney has purchased Marvel for $4 billion? Coming in 2010-The Incredible Bulk roller coaster and Slider-man 3D thrill ride!
I understand being required to carry car insurance because I may harm someone else, but why must I be forced to carry health insurance? Of course I have coverage now, but if I was single and healthy I would consider skipping it (if given that option by our heavy-handed President.)
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