unaccustomed earth

I had started reading this book last year and loved all the short stories but couldn't get into the last part, which was a novella centering on two characters, Hema and Naushik. Maybe I was put off because the story starts in the second person and I think that is a very hard narrative point of view to pull off. But I hate not finishing a book. It's just a compulsion of mine that once I start a book I have to finish it, even if it is over a year later (although I might have to break this compulsion with The Dinosaur Man, which I dread finishing). Anyhow I picked up Unaccustomed Earth to revisit the last part and I easily fell into the story and couldn't understand my initial hesitance to finish reading (although I know that how much I enjoy a book us has a lot to do with what is going on in my lives that might make the book resonate all the more powerfully to me). In fact, the last part is now my favorite of that book and I bawled on reading the last page, wept harder than I have with any other book I read, it killed me. I don't even know how to comment with respect to Jhumpa Lahiri's writing aside to say that I'm completely amazed at the command she has for writing where everything is distilled down to it's essence, she does not write one superfluous word in her books. And as good as her writing is stylistically, the level of insight she has into the intricacies of the human heart could put the best therapist to shame. I think she is, hands down, the best person writing fiction in America today.

black swan green

So I finished Black Swan Green a couple weeks ago, read it during my two days home from school nursing pink eye or paint that got in my eye from doing the ceilings, still not sure which it was but it cleared up nicely after a steroid/antibiotic combo. I can't recommend Black Swan Green highly enough, it was such a wonderful book. I love coming of age stories. Even though I'm now middle aged I feel like I can relate to adolescent angst so well, probably because I remain as socially maladroit as a thirteen year old. There don't seem to be any memorable coming of age stories told from a girl's point of view but Catcher in the Rye, The Perks of Being a Wallflower and this book are my three favorites in that genre. Oh I can't forget part two of Michael Chabon's A Model World which is a wonderful novella about this boy Nathan Shapiro, after reading it I just wanted to hug Michael Chabon. I've been listening to Summerland in the car with Owen, Oona is staging a mild protest about the book on tape choosing select times to start reading her Highlights out loud to drown out Summerland. I love listening to Michael Chabon reading Summerland, he does different voices for the various characters. It just might be better than reading his books on my own, because I love how endearingly geeky he is and his writing is so funny and kind and beautiful. There's a comment about Michael Chabon by his wife, Ayelet Waldman in the back of one of his books. She talks about how brilliant, talented and handsome he is, but how he's also arrogant, a bad dancer, and knows far too much about klingon politics and the lyrics to Yes songs. Even that criticism is endearing. I do not know either of them, aside from interviews I've heard where they seem to have a loving repartee when commenting about the other, but I truly envy people that have that, where you truly love the person faults and all, in a sense love them because of those faults.

So back to Black Swan Green by David Mitchell. Maybe I love it because the narrator, Jason Taylor, is thirteen in 1982, the same age as I was that year, but he's in England when all the great British 80s music is going on. Maybe it's that so much change in this boy's life is encapsulated in a year. It could be that I love it because Jason stammers and writes poetry under a pseudonym or that it's written in such a engaging colloquial style where, at times, Mitchell will have triple contractions. He captures the feeling of not fitting and adolescent longing, which can bring up such confusing feelings of ambivalence, like he was just thirteen yesterday. There was one line, so brief, where Jason sees Dawn Madden wet from the rain and wants to go over and suck the water from a lock of her hair, it seemed so erotic and charged with that energy of when your body first hums over someone of the opposite sex. I'd really like to read his other novels too but I'm a wee bit worried because they aren't as linear, they'll shoot back and forth in time, place and can have up to nine narrators, it seems a bit daunting but if they're as well written as Black Swan Green it shouldn't be a problem.

stupid humor

Saw this on someone's car and I laughed out loud.

pinkeye

Can someone tell me how I wound up with pinkeye when neither of my kids have it and they weren't even with me this weekend? I woke up Monday morning to a pus dripping crusted over right eye, took my test at school, stayed to figure out my score (96!) and left to go to Medexpress. Got an antibiotic for my eye that caused it to get pinker, itchier and more swollen, this morning I was not looking pretty. So I stayed home again today and got a different eyedrop (steroid and antibiotic) that's much more bearable. Hopefully I'll look more normal, less infectious by tomorrow. At least I get two days off from school, I'm spending all this luxurious free time reading. I cannot stress how nice it is to read non-nursing related material. Heavenly.

ceilings

A few weeks ago I had the ceilings replastered in all the bedrooms and the hallway on the second floor, the living room and they redid the finish on the dining room ceiling so that it's smooth and not textured. They did a fantastic job and I was really pleased with their work but dreaded having to paint all these newly plastered ceilings, not to mention all the rooms that need repainting. It's a lot of work and my lower back has been bothering me for well over a month. Plus after I went to get a massage to ease this lower back issue, which didn't ease up, I now have a pulled groin muscle and rotator muscle (to keep my miserable back company) thanks to an overly enthusiastic masseuse who was pulling at my left limbs while chiding me for being so tight. I've been hampered with pain for over a month now. From now on I only go to the kooky masseuse who talks throughout the massage but actually works magic on my tense muscles. So I really wasn't looking forward to painting the ceilings but I tackled all but one (the living room) this weekend. And I went above and beyond, two coats of paint that goes on pink and dries white, thank God for that or else I would have gone crazy trying to discern where I had and hadn't yet painted. And I'm not noticing the pain in my groin or lower back because my neck, shoulders and upper back are in agony now. Nothing like displacing the focus of your pain. I rewarded myself with a triple scoop sundae, hot fudge, dry malt and whipped cream on top - it's scary I think I'm the person that frequents the local Baskin Robbins most often, aside from the people that work there. And there have been evenings where I've gotten that and a Reese's peanut butter cup sundae - I can live off of ice cream in the summer. But my real question is do you think I can just dip myself in Biofreeze and all my pain will go away? Maybe I should rub it on my temples and try to alleviate my psychic pain.

Well speaking of pain, I have to go back to my powerpoints and study for my test tomorrow. Wish me luck. I'm already starting to panic over the idea of taking the NCLEX in the fall, my guardian angel/surrogate mother of nursing school tells me not to worry, that I'll do fine on it. But she isn't privy to the madness of my mind, that can over think the most obvious question when stressed. My God I'm going to need drugs to deal with the level of anxiety I'm going to get around that test come October. And then I need to find a job.

Deathly Hollows Part 2

Owen and I went to see Harry Potter last night, I was at a bit of a disadvantage having not seen the first half of Deathly Hollows, although I did read the book, but that was years ago. We went to the 3D version and I was so frustrated with myself that I started crying during the movie- why I should have been frustrated or surprised for that matter is beyond me since I bought Deathly Hollows the day it came out, read it in one day and was crying throughout reading it. Then I looked over at Owen part way through the movie and saw him lifting his 3D glasses to wipe away his tears. My little buddy. He's going to be my date for tearjerkers in the future, I'll just have to remember to bring a box of Kleenex for us to split. He leaned over to me and I hugged him rubbing his fuzzy head from time to time, his Dad shaved it last week 'doesn't it feel like velour' Owen said when he showed me his buzz cut. We teared up throughout the rest of the movie and on the ride home when we rehashed the best parts of the movie. He's such a sweet boy, I know he's getting older but I was so happy that he brought his wand to the movie and held my hand as we walked to the car.

Oh and can I just tell you, what a difference adulthood has made on Neville Longbottom. He is now really good looking and crazy tall, I think he towers over the rest of the cast. It's an amazing transformation I'm so happy Neville blossomed into his looks or whatever the male equivalent of blossoming is. Still love Ralph in all his evil noseless, bald glory, that man just makes me drool even as Voldemort. I also love Alan Rickman but am a bit concerned, he looked a bloated in the face with this last Harry Potter - I can't tell if it was the 3D glasses (I can't deal with 3D, I'm too shallow I guess, the glasses reflect the exit signs and it drive me batty),age, booze or illness.

sting

On Wednesday Owen got stung by either a wasp or hornet while at camp. He was near a piece of playground equipment where a hive was so he's lucky he didn't get stung more. It's the only the second time he's been stung and I didn't think more of it after he showed me his pinky and couldn't even point out where he had been stung. Then he woke me up at 3 in the morning crying saying his hand hurt. I was annoyed and about ready to tell him to just go back to bed but when I turned on the light I noticed his pinky finger was swollen. He stayed home from camp and my mom took him to the doctor's and they didn't seem terribly concerned, said it was a large local reaction and recommended Benadryl, elevation and ice to help with the swelling (the triage nurse recommended Benadryl when I had called in the wee hours of the morning but I didn't have any, having bought bottle a bottle years ago as a precaution for the kids, which I never used it and promptly threw it out and never replaced when it expired). I got home from Western Psych (my clinical rotation), got the report from my Mom and brought Owen with me (he had a dose of Benadryl in him) to get Oona from camp and then we had to stop at a mechanic's. All the while swelling continued with his hand (to continue with the Harry Potter theme his pinky resembled Dudley's Aunt Marge when Harry inadvertently blows her up while angry). His pinky was ready to pop. So I called the doctor's office again and went back over. I became more concerned when Owen started telling me his throat felt scratchy. They put a pulse ox on him that measured his O2 sats at 92% and it didn't go up- just for reference, the monitor limits (vital signs) at Children's Hospital are set to alarm when they go below 93% because children can desat much quicker than adults. So another doctor looked at the hand, was similarly nonplussed by the rash or for that matter Owen's O2 sats, but wrote a scrip for a steroid which he recommended on top of the steroid to help alleviate the swelling. This picture isn't the best because the flash wiped out the redness but can you see that the swelling went up to his wrist and across to the middle finger and that portion of his hand. I have never seen a twelve hour delayed reaction to a bee sting, let alone a reaction like this. The other picture shows a profile of how fat his hand got because he's pretty skinny so you can usually see the bones in in his without a problem, like how you can notice them in the right hand in the first picture. Now I don't know if I should have him tested for allergies to beestings or not. Most literature says people with large local reactions will be fine but they do mention that a percentage of those who have large local reactions can go on to develop anaphylactic reactions and if the large local reaction goes beyond 10 centimeters (almost 4 inches) that increases the risk. I'd hate for him to have a reaction like this if he got stung on the neck and call me crazy but I'd rather have an epi pen on me if he suddenly developed a systemic allergic reaction. Thankfully the steroids and Benadryl combo have made the swelling go down significantly. His pinky is still a bit red and swollen but nothing like it was.

batwings

Over the weekend I took a brief sojourn from all things nursing school, I had a twelve page psych assessment to type up, two care plans and an OB presentation, I was feeling a bit slammed and needed a breather so I headed over to the Gap because right after 4th of July you can get some crazy good deals. My score was this raspberry swiss dot batwing top that I got in Gap kids (XL). Originally $24.95 I got it for a dollar. Yes, $1. I was so thrilled with my score I wore it to class today, all smiley and happy thinking surely someone would comment on the cute top and then I could tell them the deal I got. No one said a thing, I don't seem to register with my nursing peers when it comes to fashion... or politics, music, anything? sigh. it's hard not fitting in. Well I went to pick up Owen and Oona from camp later in the day, the weather was crazy, torrential downpours with wind gusts so strong the rain drops went horizontal on my windshield. I was at a red light sheltered by the sizable bulk of West Penn hospital and I could still feel the wind tugging my car. I was scared to go when the light turned green, I thought my car would get carried down Liberty avenue (although if it could be written off as totaled and I could get a new car that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing). Well I got to camp unscathed and as soon as Oona saw me she came running over at full speed, saying how much she missed me and I was putting my weight in my legs so she wouldn't knock us both over when she gave me a fierce hug. Then Owen saw I was there and ran over to hug me. The first thing he said to me was, 'I like your shirt.' so I let him know how much I paid for it and he was suitably impressed, 'Wow! That was cheap!' it was all the confirmation I needed. Between the hugs and Owen noticing the bargain shirt I felt like the luckiest mom in the world.

With my zealous nature when it comes to cleaning I don't know how it took me so long to discover the power of OxiClean. Last week I washed my scrubs and forgot to take a pen out of the front pocket. There were pen marks all over my pristine white scrubs, assorted light colored shirts that I'd thrown in with that load and my beloved shabby chic via target sheets that are a pale pink with rosebuds scattered throughout. I was devastated. I squirted Shout on all the pen marks, I went through half the bottle with that endeavor there were so many marks, washed everything again in hot water with some type of Tide stain lifter and washing booster potion, it faded the marks from black to pale blue but they still weren't budging. I've been sleeping on the pen marked pillowcases and feeling rather tawdry, I'm too close to having OCD, oh I probably do have OCD to a certain extent, I have to arrange the crayons and colored pencils in my children's plastic bin just so, I feel feel drab and dirty sleeping on stained sheets like that. And I was loathe to shell out money for another pair of white scrubs, I think I've written at length about how much I loathe wearing white scrubs. So I was complaining to another student with children and she mentioned the OxiClean and that I should just let my scrubs soak in a water OxiClean mixture, that I could leave them in it up to a week and it wouldn't break down the fabric the way bleach can, and I would never risk soak clothes in bleach for a week, they'd be gone. Well that OxiClean got rid of all the pen marks overnight, my scrubs have never looked so good. I can't wait to soak my pillowcases. It's the little things in life that can make your day and I can't tell you how thrilled I was to see those stains go away. But then it rained and I was faced with the water making its way through my sandstone foundation and into my basement. A little thing that can ruin your day. Or the graffitied load of laundry, take your pick. It's the infuriatingly pedestrian ups and downs of being a grown up and owning a house.

So my kids had their first week of summer camp and things went off relatively smoothly. No beads stuck up the nose, Oona's incident last year (which I somehow neglected to blog about, (she shoved a blue bead 'for honesty' up her nose and we had to take her to the ER, where she gave various not so honest stories about how it made it's way up her nose, to get it out) resulted in a policy change where they have a 'bead ceremony' but they give out stickers instead of beads. Sort of confusing I know. Owen and Oona are having some minor difficulties at camp because Oona idolizes her brother and wants to follow him everywhere and Owen is annoyed that Oona is trying to join drama club, which is Owen's thing. Being an only child I always feel lost with the sibling rivalry stuff, I just try to tell them both that they're going to be around each other for the rest of their lives so they might as well get along. But overall the week was a good one. They went swimming twice (I worry about them drowning even more now that I've been at Children's and since they don't really know how to swim, but it sounds like they have to stay in water under their armpits), went to the library and went to Soldiers and Sailors museum. I got Owen's report card in the mail and he did great, he got straight A's except for handwriting, where he got a B. Last term he got a C in handwriting. Truth be told he probably should get a D in handwriting because his writing is barely legible and this is only after we go over his homework repeatedly. The hardest part of his homework is being able to print well enough that someone can read it, we wound up having to erase and rewrite a lot. He gets so frustrated by this and it makes me feel awful, he'd be better off typing his homework. I just don't get how his handwriting can be so god awful, Oona's three years younger and her penmanship and drawings blow Owen's away. Oh well, what are you going to do, if that's his only trouble in life he's pretty well off. I still haven't gotten Oona's report card, don't know how to interpret this. Perhaps her behavior was so bad Mrs. M is at a loss for how many N's for needs improvement to give her? I'll leave you with Oona's article for the camp newsletter. I'm kicking myself for ever promising the kids a dog once I graduate from school.

About Dogs
Dogs are furry. You can play with them. I can play catch with them. They are fun. They live in your house. Dogs eat dog food and they can eat out of the garbage. They can sleep with you. They make me happy. Some are fast, some have no fur. They can be big or small. They can be nice or mean. And they are so lovable!

in no particular order

I can miss my father so acutely on random days throughout the year but yesterday wasn't random. He always used to enjoy watching as much golf as humanly possible on Father's Day and gmail had this creepy reminder in the contacts to call Dad, and I say creepy because what the hell am I supposed to do when my father is dead? I don't like stuff like that, it just makes me hyperaware of how people can sort of take a lot of things for granted. I know I did. I wouldn't have thought twice about something like that until now. And yes, I feel more than a little guilt at the fact that my Dad ashes are hanging out in a box on the third floor, it's so hot up there with the windows closed and no a/c, I feel like I should put his cremains in a more comfortable place. I also feel guilty that I'm mad at him that he decided he wants his ashes spread out in San Francisco, rather than Moosehead lake, where his mother's ashes were spread and where he said he wanted his ashes spread years ago. But the man lived beyond his means in life so I guess wanting his ashes spread off the coast of Marin makes sense in a way. My father was far from perfect, but I know he loved me and faulted as he was I miss him. I miss playing Scrabble with him and how he could make me laugh and making him laugh, because he when he laughed he put everything into it so it was oddly flattering to get that sort of reaction from him based on something I said.

In other news, my kids had their last day of school last wednesday, which was followed with a pizza party at the park I'll take them to when I'm able to get out of school early. They had a lot of fun, faces were painted, popsicles were eaten in bulk. My mom watched them on thursday and friday, since I was at the hospital, and they went to the zoo thursday. My mom told them that she would buy each of them stuffed animals but they had to find something under ten dollars. So Oona found a cute little macaroni penguin within the price range but apparently Owen's stuffed animal needs are so high maintenance that he just couldn't find anything he liked under ten dollars so she wound up buying him a really cool, over budget stuffed squid. Then we went to Burgatory for dinner on friday, it was Owen's choice, and I'll never go there again because it's so loud I can't hear myself think. And yes saying that I'm now officially ready for my AARP subscription. I played hangman with Oona and being the smart ass mother that I am said to my mom, 'What are the chances that Oona correctly spelled her clue?' Actually she did spell 'Hannah Montana' correctly but she didn't fully understand the rules of the game. Like when I said 'a' she only put one 'a' in and she did the same thing with 'n'. I tried to explain that it's like 'Wheel of Fortune' and you have to show all instances of the letter. To be fair though she draws a very nice interpretation of hangman where the person is jumping off a chair. Owen complained that that isn't how you do hangman but I think she gets bonus points for creative interpretation of the hanging.

Finally, I've been at Children's hospital for my clinical rotations the past two weeks and I absolutely love it there. I'm so confused. How can I love pediatrics this much when I'm not a fun parent, frequently feel inadequate and exhausted when it comes to being a mother? I don't get it. But I'm not going to analyze this too much, it's such a wonderful environment, it's 'my mother' in terms of a specialty in healthcare that fits.
Last day of school
Oona looks much better when her bangs aren't hanging in her eyes
Owen keeping the park safe

out of the mouths of babes

I stand corrected. Owen sort of elaborated on his abilities, or perhaps had a different interpretation of what his math teacher said. It turns out it was within his grade level, he's still doing extremely well, but yesterday I was thinking he was some math prodigy and I wondered how he beat out fourth and firth graders if he hasn't even been exposed to the math they do. Well no need to wonder about that anymore. I mean for the most part my children are very accurate in the stories they tell me but yesterday Owen also said his one friend was really scraped up badly because he fell off his bike and then a cub scout rode over his friend on his cub scout bike, yeah Owen insisted it was a cub scout riding over him on the 'cub scout bike'. I'm thinking the whole cub scout part might need some reexamination. And then there was the time Oona told me her dad's fiance was pregnant, and yes, I'm probably a gullible idiot, but I did believe her until I asked Toby. I can only imagine what they say about me.

So Owen just told me that his math teacher took him aside today to let him know that he tied for third highest score on his PSSA tests that he took a while back (I wrote about him taking a warmup run before the test, the principal encourages all the students to do this, where he wiped out and wound up scraping his nose up). So graceful he's not but smart yes. I mean, apparently he outscored most of the fourth and fifth graders, the teacher is saying he tied for third in the school, although I'm not sure if it was for the test overall or just in math. His math teacher is super nice and has mentioned to me before that Owen does really well in math. I was so happy for him, I had him call my mom and his dad to share the news. But then I started thinking, what can I do so he's challenged in school because I sort of get the feeling, based on what he says, that he's not. I'm wondering if I'd be able to get him into a private school on an academic scholarship (because God knows he will not be going to one on whatever I'll make once I get a job).

In other news, even though it might not look like it from the photo with the painfully prominent clavicle I promise you that Owen eats plenty of food. He just doesn't seem to put on weight, or he's growing too quickly. I imagine he'd look amazing in skinny jeans.

hotness

Maybe it's the weather, being on match or going to celebitchy every friday to check out their hot dong friday but I keep thinking of what men I find physically attractive (ooh and especially at the gym when my favorite is getting his sweat on). Sure, there are men that I find physically attractive that I'm sure I would have felt the same way about twenty five years ago and then there are those that I find attractive that I probably wouldn't have looked at twice ten years ago. But this weekend I'm thinking of hot Scots (James Mcavoy who is lovingly covered in the hot dong friday link) and the very very young (20!) Aaron Johnson, who's engaged to someone older than me (Sam Taylor-Wood). At first, this seems a bit creepy, but then I'm like fuck it more power to her. I mean, God knows I'd be happy as a clam to have that face and body lying in my bed. And there are so many men that date people where the age difference is even more than twenty-three years between them. I mean my personal rule tends to be I want someone who can at least recall bicentennial because I remember leapfrogging over the fire hydrants in my town that were painted to resemble midget pilgrims. But I see that for the very arbitrary line drawn in the sand that it is. And, really, if James McAvoy (32) or Aaron Johnson (20) decided they simply must be with me I'm sure I'd be jumping right over that line in the sand in a heartbeat.


So James Mcavoy (above) is better known than Aaron Johnson. He was in Last King of Scotland, Wanted (which I rented just to watch his loveliness) and Atonement (which I own because I loved the book and the movie isn't as great as the book but the book didn't have James Mcavoy in it so it's sort of a tie). And, yes, I'll admit to renting Penelope under the guise of it being a family film I could watch with my kids when really it was all for me to lust after James in all his hotness.

Aaron Johnson was in Kick-Ass, which was actually a pretty good movie, and he's such an adorable goofball in it. I also watched Nowhere Boy over my break in April, which is where he met Sam Taylor-Wood since she directed the film. It's about John Lennon's years as a teen and the very very early start of his music career. She got amazing actors for her film, Kristin Scott-Thomas, who is always so incredible and James Mcacvoy's wife, plus that cute little Boy that played Liam Neeson's stepson in Love, Actually plays Paul McCartney in this (and he's actually older than Aaron Johnson in real life, wow this boy is crazy young). Aaron Johnson does a really good job in this film, it's a small film but I thought it was very well done (some of the shots in the film are stunning). And, so I guess the perpetual nineteen year old in me finds Aaron Johnson incredibly hot and just wants to have a makeout session with those full lips of his and run my fingers through his goregous curls (just look at how flipping lovely they are in that last shot of him with his fiance, how does she not have her hands in his hair?!). Okay, I'll stop panting now.