NASA - NASA Satellites Watch California Wildfires

NASA - NASA Satellites Watch California Wildfires

Look at California. Gives new meaning to "burn hollywood burn". More to come later on today. (I think)

Letter from Bob and Nancy -

Dear Dunia:

We've been following your adventures avidly. I hesitate to say we're
enjoying them; the discomforts of pregnancy are hardly enjoyable,
except in retrospect, though they do revive memories of Nancy's own
travails.

Your latest entry brings up (is that a bad phrase to use? ) two
tangential questions. First, what in particular was there about 14
Below that made it so much worse than all the other venues you've
played? Second, can you tell us more about Aram, Austin and the the
barber shop story?

Love,
Bob and Nan

I figured all of these were valid questions that warranted clarification.

On 14 below
14 Below is a grungy little club in Santa Monica, a place I've disliked since I was first there but could not exactly put my finger on why. The main attraction of Santa Monica is a strip of stores called the Third Street Promenade, which is basically a mall. I don't really care for malls, as most of them are designed to help people conform to a particular style, and I have never been one for conformity.

I very much like many people who live in Santa Monica. Those people are generally ambitious, interesting, intelligent folk who live there for the beauty of the ocean and the proximity to other parts of Los Angeles. It's like a hop away from fabulous Malibu.

Then there are the "townies". Theses are the folk who, when you were in college, would make fun of you for being in college while they continue working the same grocery clerk job they worked in high school. These are the patrons of 14 Below. Beer swilling, somewhat pitiful, unsophisticated sorry-people. I'm a snob, I admit it.

The funny thing is that, despite being little more than a local watering-hole, 14 Below pretends to be a club of high standards. They actually made us sign a contract and everything!

They had five monitors onstage, but none of us could hear ourselves. They tried to make us start early because their clocks are off. They have no amps of their own, no anteroom to prepare and they made us pay for parking. I will never play such a dive again.

On Aram's brilliance
Last year for a class Aram wrote a paper describing the way the movie Barber Shop both comments on and affects the black public sphere. If you'd like to read it, please email Aram. The paper got submitted to a conference called "Global Fusion" in Austin, TX, where it received honorable mention for best student paper. It's so awesome, because although he worked hard on it, Aram certainly did not sweat over this paper the way he did over some others. Not only that, but it's so timely in light of the new Barber Shop movie coming soon to a theater near you!

That is all for this rather long entry. G'night!

Crap-for-Crap Day

Today I am in a lousy mood. It all started last night before our lousy gig at a lousy club called 14 Below. If you ever have a chance to go there, don't. It's crap. I mean, I'm sure it works for other people, but I think maybe we're too polished for that or we have bigger expectations or something.

Anyway, I left my flute at that stupid club so now I have to go back and get it. I was hoping never to go to that beer-stained swill hole again.

Now today I am totally screwing up at work, because try as I might, I cannot help but be brain-dead. I hate it. It's lousy and I'm sick of it. I want the baby to give me my brain back.

Maybe this is all a result of the solar storm.

I think I'm also having some wonderful hormone swings because I keep saying to myself that I hate people. Which is something I do say on occasion, but never so frequently. I hope this child isn't a morbid goth creature who prefers dressing in black with her/his hair over her/his face, talking about how cruel the world is and how unfair it was to be born into it. (That does sound oddly familiar though.) Although that could make for a damned good artist. And perhaps a rocking drummer who's into polyrhythms far beyond those which we today could possibly understand. (Such loftly aspirations for my offspring.)

I can hear her/him now..."Mom, that funky 13 is so passe. All I need to do is lay a 27 over it and....see?"

I can only hope.

Everyone wish Aram luck delivering his "Barber Shop" paper in Austin, TX this weekend. Offspring (or speck or child or whatever), if you're reading this, your father's brilliant, don't you forget it. And I'll try not to either.

Pregnant Dreams

I finally dreamed about the ocean last night. That's the typical pregnant dream. I went to the beach several times in my dream and swam in warm ocean waters. I can almost still smell the salt air.

Ah, the beach. I haven't been in a couple of weeks. I should give it a visit. It must be true what they say about the salt air and the electronic impulses from the salt water and stuff. All the rejuvenation talk. I love going to the ocean and just staring for hours at the waves. In Malibu we usually see some kind of ocean life, like dolphins or sea lions or whales.

I get very excited when I see dolphins. My heart leaps seven to twelve feet into the air and I am immediately transported to early childhood. From outside myself, I hear "ooh! ooh! ooh!" as if the ice cream truck just pulled up and it's a hot July afternoon and I'm pleading for 50 cents for a strawberry shortcake ice cream bar. Although those bars are $1.50 now. And they really aren't as good as the used to be. Too much high fructose corn syrup.

I digress.

I feel like I'm in the full throes of the pregnancy now. I think I can now distinguish between the queasy feelings that mean I'm hungry, the queasy feelings that mean I ate too much and the queasy feelings that mean I need to get more sleep. Soon the queasiness will stop and be replaced by energy with which I can return to the gym. And possibly even think clearly!

Well, until next time...

I think it's officially a fetus now

So I've gathered, from reading all the websites, that the baby is a fetus now. In two weeks I get a new picture from the doc (Halloween).

In the meantime I'm pretty queasy on entering week 9. Still no visual substantive manifestation of the queasiness, thankfully, but it does make the work day a little more challenging. My belly has started poking out a little bit, as the little gal/guy makes her/himself known.

I'm craving mostly fresh fruit and vegetables. Actually, mostly apples. Apples have been like nectar of the gods to me. When I think of them I get all happy. Gail is actually craving pickles and ice cream and all I can think of is fresh fruit. Why can't I have normal cravings like everybody else?

The hardest part has been remembering that sleep is a good and necessary thing. I slept about 15 hours total the other day and the next day at work was like a brand new me. I was alert and could remember things...it was great.

That's all for now. Just wanted to share the queasiness.

...and all is well

Yeah, we've been cruising along. Aram, our little embryo, the cats and I have just moved in to our new place in Highland Park. It's fabulous. No other way to describe it. It's big. The kitchen isn't great, but the dining room is awesome and the bathroom is fun. I think baby will like it here for a year or so. I'm able to stay awake during the day now, but I want to start sleeping at nine. The little person is starting to push stuff out of her/his way, while s/he grows. I'm starting to feel pressure when I bend over. Crazy.

I put a link to my favorite expectant parents website. The English version of this site is way better than the U.S. version, because it isn't trying to sell you stuff when it offers more information on things. I also like the fact that it says "you are in your eighth week" rather than "you are seven weeks pregnant". It just seems more optimistic and in the present.

My body forced me awake in the middle of the night to do yoga. It's true, I haven't been exercising enough because I have trouble staying awake generally. Since that's subsiding somewhat, maybe I'll make it to the gym 3 times a week again. Or at least wake up early enough to do some yoga before I start my day.

We have a gig at the Knitting Factory tonight. I will be napping beforehand, cats permitting. It will be fun I think. Ahmed is playing drums with us now. It's great. Anyway, see you next time!

Kudos to my father

By the way, note on the lower right hand corner of the page, the date 5/27/04. Big up to my father who predicted that due date in advance.

Our Speck is now a Smudge!

Yes, our little speck has graduated to smudgedom. The baby is the white smudge in the right corner of the dark matter (gestational sac). This is from the follow-up visit to my spotting episode which suddenly seems very far away. A lot really does happen in a week, though, doesn't it?

We are all doing fine, in case anyone is wondering. I'm learning how to sleep more so as not to pass out at work. Aram is learning how to do everything I can't do because I keep sleeping. Our social life has slowed down a lot because I don't want to be around anyone I can't be totally crabby with. Tristra knows. She's seen the beast within.

All in all, we're dealing, moving to a bigger place this weekend. Having a good time generally. Life is good!

The latest on the tiny one...

I have been experiencing what is commonly known as "spotting", which had been making me panic. I have seen the doc, however and not only is the coast clear, but there is even a tiny heart that has just begun to beat! Oh joy! babybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby....

Who were you in a past life?

I ripped this off of a friend's blog. Thought it was funny...

Who were you in a past life? by Kat007
Name:
Birthdate:
Favorite Color:
Country:
You were most probably:	An unknown German artist
If not then you were:	A tree
Created with quill18's MemeGen!