Thursday, April 14, 2011

In case of the apocalypse

The Boobla has been inconsolable from teeth pain as of late (seriously - how crazy is it that our teeth CUT THROUGH OUR GUMS to emerge?!) so we ran out and bought this hastily researched homeopathic product, camilia, which purports to soothe irritability, restlessness and painful gums. It looks like this:

Of course our family doctor gave us all skeptical/wary face when we told him about it and was all like, "'s homeopathic so it hasn't been tested - I'd recommend Tylenol" as if he wasn't reassured by the smiling visage of Koala, M.D. on the packaging! It knocks the little guy out COLD - last night we gave him some and he slept almost 12 full hours. We're not sure if he just needed the sleep or if we basically drugged him to sleep so that we could gorge on Popeye's in peace. We'd feel pretty guilty if it was the latter.

Last night was so fun! PBR and fried chicken are a match made in heaven - or so my alcoholically inclined guests seemed to indicate. The dinner convo was amazing and spanned many topics - the apocalypse, where we decided that if it was truly nuclear armageddon (and not just like, Biblical apocalypse with the locusts and the sea boiling and the raining frogs - which we all agreed would be pretty cool to witness), we'd want to meet our maker with a nice, healthy heroin drip, or failing that, weapon's grade camilia. LOL!

I also tried to make a case for hell not being that bad and that I would want to be one of Satan's minions, but the Dotytron curtailed THAT dream by saying, "Dude. It's HELL. There is no way that it could be anything but the worst. They would know you'd want to be a minion and would just never pick you, but keep stringing you along every day - that would be your hell." Hahahaha! The thought of me languishing in the fiery bowels of the Dante's Inferno, constantly thinking that today might just be THE day that I'm finally allowed to be one of Satan's minions and only to have my hopes crushed day after day, is actually pretty funny.

But enough about that. Today marked my first run in a little under a year - it was hell. Apparently after you have a baby, when you run, you pee a little. FANTASTICO!

For dinner I made us perogies (frozen) baked in the oven with caramelized onion and fennel with sautéed rapini (that I blanched first to take away some of the bitterness - I'm also continuing my mean mum routine and pureeing rapini for the Big Yam and making him eat fennel.) For dessert we had leftovers of the cake I made yesterday for our dinner - a delicious, light, springy orange cake (made tender with sour cream) with a milk chocolate buttercream.

Okay, here are some book reviews, coming at you fast and furious.

I read Elizabeth Gilbert's Commited waaaaaaaaaaay back in January for my book club. I had studiously avoided her Eat, Pray, Love based on my assumption (founded on nothing but a gut feeling) that it was honky grandma be trippin' wah wahing catnip and that I would find her intensely self-absorbed, boring, and would want her to call me when she had REAL problems (it turns out that I was right. Not that I've read Eat, Pray, Love to determine that, but this is one of those instances when I'm SO right about a cultural product that my rightness transcends things like actually having to consume the cultural product in question - it's the same way I feel about like, LCD Soundsystem or something.) ANYWAY, this book was the same - it details her attempts to reconcile the legal requirement that she marry her Brazilian beau, Felipe (the "love" of the previous book) who was played by Javier Bardem in the movie but in real life looks like this:

They were obviously separated at birth [/deadpan]. I will concede that there's a certain self-deprecating witty humour that's kind of par for the course for any memoir-ish book and that makes it readable enough - I just couldn't be BOTHERED with all the navel-gazing and faux-anguish. YOU EITHER GET MARRIED OR YOU DON'T. CALL ME WHEN YOU HAVE REAL PROBLEMS. YOU HONKY GRANDMA.

As a companion fiction piece, the book club also read Brady Udall's The Lonely Polygamist. This is a sprawling work of fiction (not like, Jonathan Frantzen sprawling, but featuring a cast of many) about a fundamentalist polygamist named Golden who has four wives, an armada of children and finds himself experiencing a mid-life crisis - detached and apathetic. The author's use of a polygamous family is really just a way of taking the ordinary family struggles that people experience and using the multiple wives aspect to exaggerate them - from a male perspective. The writing was pretty engaging as were the characters, but in the end, I found Golden's lack of engagement and general bewilderment with his life and lot too hard to stomach (seriously? You made these choices!) and didn't finish the book - I read ahead and found out what happened, but skipped some of the last third. It's a good read - I mean, I WAS slogging through this with a 1 month old baby, so that might have affected my desire to persevere.

I blew through the latest and last installment of E. Lockhart's Ruby Oliver series, Real Live Boyfriends in about 30 minutes. It wasn't as satisfying as the other three in the series - Ruby is at her best when she's got real drama to contend with and the last book is really about wrapping things up and leaving Ruby in a fairly stable place in her life - the discord with her boyfriend Noel felt really contrived and false and didn't have the emotional resonance of the other books. Supporting characters also didn't really shine and Roo's parents (one of the highlights in the series) were also made to be an afterthought. The book felt rushed - although I might be dealing with some angsty grief because the series is over? Could it have ended in a way that I would have loved? Who knows?

I have a few more, but it's the end of the day and I'm exhausted...I'll wrap up tomorrow.

I will end by saying (again) that I do love my street more than anything. All the neighbours were outside today after work and we were all watching the kids zooming around on their bicycles, tricycles, scooters and whatnot and it was really sweet. We have a neighbour going through some health issues right now and it's really warming to see how our street is coming together as a community - we really really really lucked out - it's unbelievable. I feel so fortunate that we live alongside such warm, welcoming people with so much care and consideration for each other - our kids are going to be going to the same schools, separated by only a few years (or in the same year, as is the case with the Big Yam and our neighbours' daughter) - I freakin' love it.



dr. rei said...

"They were obviously separated at birth [/deadpan]."


Aunty T said...

I'm curious to find out who her James Franco -dude looks like in real life.

karl lagerfeld, esquire said...