Butterfly

Disclaimer: No butterfly was harmed in this shoot--it was already dead.

Macro Mooshi & Yes, I'm Still Pregnant

Older & More Creative

Gerber

Yesterday, I received a most excellent bday present from Alex--the Lensbabie 2.0 and Macro lenses. When we got home from Body Worlds, showing at the Museum of Science, I dinked around with the macro lenses. These here blossoms are the result.

The Lensbaby is not a 'traditional' lens by any means. It's more of an artistic, creative sort of photo toy. The effects end up looking like photos shot with a Holga. I haven't quite mastered it yet but am having fun attempting to.

Anyway, it was a swell day to turn 33.

Unfolding Gerber

Nastrutium

Dalia

The Rescuers

Stefanie

Yesterday was a big big day for me--I left the house, used 'my words' on someone other than Alex, and shot some photos at Forest Hills. Big ups to Stefanie (photog extrodinaire-check out her site) and her kiddies for rescuing me from confinement.

Madison

Garrett

The Natural Law of Public Transportion in Extreme Conditions

I fancy myself a person of reason but must admit that I'm becoming more and more superstitious with age. I'm convinced the universe is plotting against me which is why I am a firm believer in the Natural Law of Opposites. Nevertheless, this latest curse of Mother Nature is just unfair.

To escape the heat I could go to the pool at MIT or some other 'cooling center' but the problem and reason I don't is a subsection of the Natural Law of Opposites, it's called the Natural Law of Public Transportation in Extreme Conditions.

The Natural Law of Public Transportation in Extreme Conditions works like this. Take a scorching or freezing day, or just any day where you are in a hurry, running late or maybe sick and have to rely on public transportation.

You go to the bus stop expecting a 5-minute wait, the norm, but end up waiting and waiting leaving you to wonder if the MBTA has cancelled the route in the direction you're going. It will become clear that the same route going the opposite direction has not been cancelled because during your excruciatingly hot 30 minute wait caravans of busses going the opposite direction, 3 deep, running every 5 or so minutes and almost completely empty will pass and taunt you.

The above scenario happens every time I brave the bus and it doesn't matter which direction of the route I'm waiting for--I will wait and wait and wait and count the number of busses going the opposite direction. I'll end up having conversations with the transients who occupy the benches and like all conversations with strangers these days, the talk will be baby, which is mildly pleasant.

The Devil and The Clown

My nephew, Dashiell (aka 'The Devil') just turned 21 and this is what he's getting from me--a print of him and his sister Greer on Halloween, 1987.

Photographic Proof That We Exist

Exhibit A

Photos of the two of us together (or shall I say 3 of us?) are rare. Probably because one of us is always behind the camera.

Exhibit B

Slumbering Sandeep in the Co-Sleeper

Baby Paws

Flared

Another film ditty from the archives. This one was taken in the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle a few years back.

The traditionalists and purists say photographic lens flare is a no no, but judging from the plentitude of pro work out there with lens' a flaring I'm going to have to say its 'the thing.' based on the pro work out there flaring for effect. The above version was an error but this one from Forest Hills was not--I planned it and consequently my agency picked it up.
My Rule: Always Break The Rules :)

Plastination & You

Finally! Finally I say! Body Worlds is coming to Boston!

Von Hagens and his corpses have been creating controversy where ever they land, which surprises me because his people are the best looking dead people you'll see anywhere. Check out the Body Worlds site and if you're looking for a good read, check out 'Stiff' by Mary Roach, which features a section on von Hagens that's both informative and a crack-up, which is a good description for the entire book.

Getting Sushi's ashes this week reconfirmed my desire for an 'alternative' post-mortem process--a once 11 lb cat is now 1 cup of gravel. I want something more, something fabulous for my body when I'm gone and I'm in luck.

It turns out that von Hagens is accepting body donors--yes, I'm very healthy and don't plan to die anytime soon, but when I do, I hope I can be plastinated by von Hagens. If you want to be my friend in the end, maybe you'd like to join me at von Hagens Institute for Plastination.

Body Donation forms here.

Somewhere in Tunisia, 10 years ago

Long ago, in another life, I went to Tunisia on vacation. Here's a shot from somewhere in the Sahara which I scanned and converted to black and white. I quite like it.

Waiting & Other Bits

I'll technically be 'full-term' on Monday which means the little man could arrive at any point, although his ETA isn't until the 14th of August. I'm waiting to unplug the above phone because of punch-drunk-baby-induced-fatigue.

There's a theory that first timers are more likely to be overdue which is why I'm invoking the spirit responsible for The Natural Law of Wishes, wishes that don't come true.

The law: If you wish for something it's very very unlikely it will come true.

My wish: To be really overdue, 14 days in fact.

Now, since I'm far from lucky and The Great Spirit of Wishes will surely not grant me my 'supposed' wish, I'm hoping I've bypassed this law of nature. On the other hand, if my superstitious ways prove to be true, I probably just ruined it for myself by confessing that I'm trying to outwit 'the system.'

Other bits:
I submitted another lot of photos to my agency for potential sale--54 in total--we'll see which, if any, of them they want. It's sort of my last photography hurrah for a while since I doubt I'll have much time to do such things in the near future.

The weather is now fabulous--in the 70s and tolerable.

We picked up Sushi's ashes at the MSPCA today and well, there's not much left of him, about a cup of gravel really. I was dreading doing this and of course it created another breakdown but at least it's done. Something very weird: The various colored chunks of him--there's one pebble that's a robin's egg color.

The baby room is done, painted, set up and clean. I went against Dr. Nosey of Yumont Hardware's advice and exposed myself to paint. I'll post photos someday soon.

Bags for the hospital are almost packed.

*Badeee badeee, that's all folks!

Bainbridge to Seattle Ferry

See these people? These people are comfortable. It's about 70-75 degrees and they are not sweating like pigs. Oh how I wish I was there........

Rhubarb

Nothing much to report so have this pretty picture I took a year ago.
I'm officially on pregnancy 'confinement' as my mother terms it. What's pregnancy confinement? Think house arrest and what's arresting you is heat and discomfort. Only 32 days left before the little man is due to arrive.

She's On The Job!

KiKi, Retail SuperHero has made contact with the Nordstroms and all is well. Read about her selfless and amazing retail adventure which is making our material world a better place!

Galaxy In My Glass

Three Years Ago Today

July 5, 2003

Baby Knats

JP: The Center for Prenatal Advice and Predictions

Macho seems to be the consensus from the baby bump experts. Saturday, at the hardware store, while waiting for Alex I sat down to give my bear paw feet a rest. A very friendly woman from the Dominican Republic decided to join me, grope me, and give me her opinion on what I'm having. Her opinion: "Que macho!" Bingo, but she could have just asked me.

Although the above baby oracle is clearly knowledgeable about boy vs. girl bumps her declaration required groping whereas the man in a wheelchair, going top speed down Centre Street, who passed and yelled "You're having a boy!" Needed no hands-on time to make his judgment—he wins the blue ribbon.

The same hardware store with the groping lady also has a full time Dr.--call him Dr. Nosey. If you posses no medical care and need a quick consultation look no further than Yumont Hardware. Although I do have medical care I was totally oblivious to the dangers of paint. Did you know paint will melt your baby's brain? The hardware store doctor has personal experience with all sorts of brain damage-- "When my mother was pregnant with me she drank and now I have OCD." I wanted to add to his list of issues but wimped out and couldn't tell him to shut his trap and give me my paint so I could go home and guzzle some whiskey and bask in paint fumes.

33 weeks

Yeah Ghana!

Who's the most unpatriotic American you'll probably ever meet? Me, yes me. Sorry if you're offended but I have 2 reasons to be super duper happy that Ghana beat the US.

1. Alex, the dear, is from Ghana. Alex's parents still live in Accra.

2. Who doesn't love a triumphant underdog?

RIP Sushi

Sushi Mallet Loved Boxes

Achhhh. My heart. It hurts oh so badly. Our dear cat Sushi had to be put to sleep yesterday. Here's a link to Alex's ever so sweet tribute and another photo of Sushi.

http://alexmallet.blogspot.com/2006/06/sushi-mallet-111998-6182006.html

Bare Foot is to Pregnant as Leather is to Rock Star

I now understand why pregnant women and bare feet go together like rock stars and leather. Here's the scoop: When your appearance prompts people to say "Wow you look like you're going to pop!" chances are you feel that way and have limited range of motion as a result.

Case in Point: I made a trek to Macy’s today (I usually avoid department stores but to date I require a Neapolitan shopping experience: water fountains, bathrooms, and A/C all in one) to get some comfy walking sandals and a piece of clothing that has long been extinct in my wardrobe, shorts. It's just so freaking hot, humid, hazy and hellish that I've decided baring my pillars and shoes for comfort are necessities.

Anyway back to the shoes. I ask the Macy’s shoe man to bring me the shoes I have in hand, which he promptly dumps on the floor in front of me and high-tails it. I thought he was going to get himself a little shoe salesperson stool but that was not the case. He decided to stand around and gab with the other sales people while I grunted my way to the floor to pick up the shoes before me. Out of the box they came but that’s about as far as they got—I can’t reach my feet anymore, so I just sat there until he came back. To his credit, he did eventually put my shoes on for me, but very grudgingly. It was an all-around embarrassing experience, for both of us.

Today's Lesson: Don't do self-service shoe shopping when transporting another human.

Popsicle Woes

New and Improved FDA Recommendations

What food deserves its own group and a large portion of the FDA food pyramid, or whatever the hell shape it is now? Popsicles. Yes, Popsicles.

I want popsicles, and damn the NE and its obsession with ice cream, I can't find one anywhere. Well, that's not totally true, I have found 2 varieties but neither are suitable for my pregnancy-induced lust for frozen calories on a stick.

The First: A Lifesaver Pop, which is a frozen toxic concoction of corn syrupy dregs from the bottom of the juice cask in colors resembling crayons. If partially hydrogenated oils were appropriate popsicle ingredients you can bet these would be chalked full of em.

The Second: A Tragic Joes Pop. Don't get me wrong, I love TJ's but they've got the popsicle thing all wrong. Alex, the dear, brought me home the lime version-- they're sitting in our freezer gathering a protective ice glaze. Way too sweet with a hint of 'if-I-were-to-melt-I'd-be-in-a big-ol-glass-with-Tequila-and-salt' just aint working for me—oh what I would do to have the melted version…..

Today’s mission: take the bus to a super duper grocery store and find some damn popsicles

restored

Me and the shrimps (aka my mom and sister)

Industrial

Hi-Rises

Smile from Seattle

List of the Latest

3 weeks left at the Institute for Extraterrestrial Humans, which is great because commuting is becoming laborious and working here seems to be getting more dangerous by the day. First, walking to and from the T, switching trains, walking across campus, all in the heat and humidity, is far from fun, especially when you have chub rub (yes, my inner thighs have recently become acquainted). Second, the scary-lady-with-the-way-too-calm-voice-alarm and the air raid horn that sounds after she kindly asks you to 'exit the building immediately' is a big frightening. There's a lab a couple of doors down that keeps having toxic gas leaks--yesterday was the second time in a month the alarm sounded. Things seem to have gotten more serious; this morning there is yellow 'Police Line Do Not Cross' tape across all the lab doors.

13 images new of mine are about to loaded onto AGE's site, adding to the 10 images I already have with them.

The 'childbirth' classes start next week and I'm far from gung-ho given I'm not much of a 'group' learner and right now the whole 'let's-all-bond-even-though-we-are-complete-strangers-having babies'' feels like it's going to be one gigantic blind double date x 10, revolving around a topic I'd like to keep private. Besides, this class is generic and 'mainstream' and we're planning an alternative approach, drug-free using hypnobirthing.

Just because we're on an 'alternative' birthing/childrearing topic, I'll add this to convince you that I'm truly crazy.
After searching and searching for a cloth diaper service in Massachusetts, I finally found one, yes only one for the entire eastern portion of the state. Anyway, we're doing cloth. It's much cheaper and better than plastic throw aways. They'll come once a week and drop of a load of clean diapers and take the 'used' ones away.

The lack of cloth diaper services here brings to mind the thing that just keeps coming to me about the East vs. West Coast: There are so many things about the East Coast that are far from progressive. Example: The lack of businesses that accept depit cards--I never ever carried cash until I moved here.

rock and seaweed

rocks

Big C in Sea Town

List Fun

I can’t help thinking how weird and cool it is that because I’m pregnant with a boy I have a penis.

The shower was splendid, we’ve been gifted with a ton of great baby items--Thanks people!

Proof that you have little control over pregnancy weight gain: In Seattle, I ate a lot of everything I wanted (including dessert every night) and rarely exercised. I gained no weight—thank god.

A swelling recipe that really works: Boil a bunch of fresh parsley with a lemon until it’s a green sludgy mess—drink it and water be gone!

A good way to test people’s sense of humor when they ask you “Are you excited to have a baby?” is to tell them you’re really glad Massachusetts has a ‘safe haven’ law (which is something like a car lemon law for babies, allowing you to drop off your unwanted baby at any fire station within 7 days of birth without being prosecuted).

Another good test of humor: When people ask what you’re naming your baby, tell them the most horrendous names possible, with a straight face, and watch them squirm. Our standard joke name is Donald Chuck. Donald is Papa Mallet’s name and Chuck is Papa Todd’s name. As individual names, they’re just fine but in combination……

Pregnancy dreams increase in bizarritude the further along you are.
Examples: I killed someone, Hid out in-disguise in an old folks home then climbed a tree full of cats.

crabby

Crabby

I'm a crabby crabby lady these days.

Here's why:

I'm freaking tired like the worm jumping to get out of the Mexican bean. Our bed is HORRENDOUSLY hard and my ample portions and weight is really taking its toll on my relationship with Mr. Sandman. Rolling requires Alex to hoist/flop me over. Getting out of bed requires a 3-point turn and wrestling the Anaconda (a giant U-shaped pregnancy body pillow) is becoming more work every day.

I'm so crabby I can't even get creative enough to write anything else.

Showers, Showers and Showers

Off we go to Seattle to visit family and friends. The photographer in me has been in hibernation and is expected to awaken during this trip.

For now it's later to Boston Showers as we head to the land of Showers for our baby Shower...

UPDATE: Not to So Live Wire

UPDATE: Ahhh, the wonders of 'sleeping on it' and also inconsistent montitors. That said, I have officially decided that I DO NOT like this photo anymore. I'm looking at it and wondering why I thought it was redeeming. I'm my own best critic.

I took this photo a while back while visting my brother-in-law, Victor, in Philadelphia.
Some might think it's dull or wonder why someone who fancys themselves a photographer would post such a photo. Here's my explaination: I like this photo because of its simplicity. I like that the only color comes from the only non-straight edge in the frame. True, I did render everything but the wire blk & wt, but the shot was essentially pretty monochrome anyway.

I asked my photo editor, Alex, what he thought and he said "uhm.. I don't really know what to make of it" and then I asked my French Fashionista Friend Geoffrey what he thought and he didn't have much to add at first and then he asked me about the color. Upon telling him what I did he said it reminded him of the girl in the red coat in Shindler's list. Interesting.

Contrail Over Jamaica Pond

Channeling Shamoo

IM conversation with sister in The Land of Milk and Honey

Sister: Are you swelling yet? I had terrible swelling in my hands, feet and ankles when I was pregnant.

Me: Nope not me! Aren’t I lucky?

Stupid, Stupid me. I jinxed myself—24 hours later I’d be looking at my man hands and sausage toes.

Flax seed, Lemon juice, Gallons upon Gallons of water, Dandelion tincture—did they help? Not really.

And then, I attempted what I thought I’d never do….. I put on my Shamoo suit and hit the pool.

I’ve chosen the Orca as my swimming mascot, which seems a natural choice given my NW roots and my swimming costume, which is clearly in fitting with the Orca color scheme, black and white--black maternity bathing suit and white winter skin.

Flippers on, kick-board in hand and off I go, and so do the man hands and sausage toes.

Lesson of the day: When you feel like a whale, act like one.

HypnoNapping

I'm going to count down from 5 and when I get to 1 you will be………………………………………………………..

Then..... I wake up and..... "Wait where am I, what happened?"

Falling asleep is what's happened 2 of the 4 times I’ve attempted practice my Hypnobirthing program.

It's clear I have no trouble relaxing, but if I’m asleep through half of the program it’s pointless and I have to start again. The program I’m using consists of a bunch of CDs that I need to start listening to at the beginning of my 7^th month (yes, I’m that far along.. . holy mole, that’s a bit scary) and I'm supposed to listen to each program 7 consecutive times. With my amazing ability to conk out, I’m going to need the gestational period of an elephant to get through the entire program before the little man arrives.

Restoration

My parents' wedding, August 28, 1971.

My mom sent me this photo to fix up which I was happy to do--it was simple and only took about 15 minutes--just the crease at the top, a bit of discoloration and few splotches really.

More restoration: Mommy Restored & Kleiner Alex

Once we move back to The Land of Milk and Honey I plan to have my own photography business (portraiture) and I think photo restoration, in addition to stock photography, would be a nice addition. Why? Because unless you can time travel, photo memories are all you’ve got and they’re probably faded, yellowed, and on non-archival photo paper, which means they will continue to age. That's were I come in. Give me your photo, I'll scan it and spruce it up and even make prints on my fancy photo printer which uses archival quality inks and paper--these images should last 300 years, or so they say.

Word of warning: If you are printing your digital images and then dumping the files you are going to be sorry. The paper most prints are made on is good for about 7 years , after that you're going to get fading and discoloration. Be sure to save all of your images on a CD, whether you think you'll print them or not. Dad, remember this please. :)

Film Crime vs. Film Punishment

Crime and Punishment, the sweater

Match Point Yeah! Enduring Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment has finally paid off and I'm now talking to you from my high-brow-smarty-pants soap-box because it's completely clear from my classically read mind that Crime and Punishment was Woody Allen’s inspiration for this film. Crime and Punishment is long, really long and I don't recommend you read it unless you like classic novel torture or you find yourself in a cell, being punished for a crime. I endured all 5 badillion hours of Crime and Punishment on cd, mind you while knitting an atrocious sweater which has aptly been named Crime and Punishment because it was a crime to knit and is punishing to wear. Okay I'm off topic, Match Point is indeed a sexy thriller--see it.

Good Night and Good Luck... is all I have to say to those planning on watch this movie. I feel like a real lamo for not catching this film’s brilliance. Maybe it’s my lacking attention span, or my ability to fall asleep in 10 minutes flat, but nothing about this movie rocked my world. To me, it was like sitting in on a bunch of really boring meetings--probably along the lines of what it must be like for sons or daughters on take your kiddie to work day. I had to listen too hard to follow and there was no eye candy, be it human or landscape. Good Night and Good Luck with this one.

Shame on me!

Good lord, get the second comment, aka diatribe, regarding the post below. 20 hail Mary's for me.

Regardless of me saying I was Mexican-American or not, my points still stand. And, claiming I was Mexican-American did what it was supposed to do, make the xenophobes feel bad about attacking a group of people on a public board. Sure I could have chimed in as myself, but would those people have felt bad about their comments, unlikely. Would I do it again, ya I would. Why, because doing so brought about the reaction I intended it to.

Have you ever been around someone who says something inflammatory about an ethnicity, or race, and there's one person in the group who is exactly the sort of person being flamed? What happens when that person speaks up and says, "Hey, I'm...(insert ethnicity or race) and I don't appreciate your comments." ?

Now take that same situation but this time a person just like the person making the comments says something like, "Hey, dude, that's not cool." Which reaction is likely to have an impact? Ya, that's what I thought.

Two more things dear lurker, if you're going to invest so much time thinking about me and my sins, at least sign you name--otherwise, you're a coward. And if you don't have the balls to sign your name, you have no right to say "Shame on you for saying you're something that you're not" cause, well.. you, you can't even say who you are.

P.S. Don't you dare tell me what my intentions were, you don't know me. " You were trying to stir up trouble, much to your protestation to the contrary. If you weren't, you would not have lied out of the gate."

Interactions with the other side

Update:Since I posted the below post, there has been an eruption of sorts. When I first posted to the "Day without a Mexican" thread there were about 15 posts, it's now at 60 and that's all it will be because the Babycenter locked the thread because two very vocal sets up people started to chime-in, really more like gong-in--it got ugly. Since it's been locked, I've been receiving emails from women thanking me for my words. Ahh, a days job of rebel rousing, for a good cause, is done. :)

Now that I’ve joined the legions of soon-to-be-mother-hood I've discovered the amazingly informative and sometimes scary web culture of parenting and pregnancy. The majority of my time is spent on BabyCenter’s August birth board, which consists of a bunch of women all due to deliver in August, posting and answering each other's questions.

Sometimes the topics can cause serious knock-down-drag-out online fights. I’ve learned that the topics of breast feeding and circumcision are the most controversial and I stay away from them. I’m not one to balk a controversy, but those topics, to me, are boring--I’m pretty set on doing both and don’t really care to debate the topics.

One posted topic that has me really riled, and it’s not even a topic on the August board, rather it’s from the April board is this:

“Is anyone else concerned about "a day without a Mexican?"

Some of the comments have been very xenophobic and full of hate. I felt compelled to respond and doing so caused quite a stir. I fibbed and said I was Mexican-American because I thought presenting an 'e-face' of the 'enemy' would make some of these people think twice about their tone. I’m so glad I did. I think my comments brought forward a women who might have otherwise been scared to declare that her husband is an illegal immigrant ( Poster8)!

Me I'm lurking from another board and just wanted to say that as a Mexican-American I am sort of offended by not only the title of this thread but some of the comments. Here's my beef:

1. It's not a day without a Mexican, it's a day without a Latino/a--many of whom come from many other countries in Latin American, not just Mexico.

2. As a nation we are very lucky that illegal immigrants and migrant workers do the jobs they do. Without them you'd be paying very high rates from the nice fruits and vegetables you eat, pay more to have your lawn fixed up, house cleaned, baby watched, etc. Case in point: In Washington state, the government actually sends buses down to the border to pick up Mexicans willing to be seasonal workers during apple season. You know those nice apples from Washington state we all love? Well you can thank an 'illegal' migrant worker for them, and the US government for keeping our produce costs down by ulitlizing their labor.

3. The US has a border maintenance problem but that's our problem and our fault and I don't really think we can blame people who are hungry and need to support their families for seeking out a better life. I think that as expectant mothers we probably understand this dilemma . Wouldn't you risk being 'illegal' if it meant you could feed your family? I know I would.

4. My final point: Isn't the fact that some people are worried about how this day of protest will impact them a clear example of just how important the Latino community is to our economy and daily life?

I'm not trying to stir up trouble but I just wanted to present a different view point.

Thanks for listening, Cristina


Poster1: My induction is scheduled for May 1st, and I know that a lot of the local restaraunts are closing down because there will be no one to work. I'm worried that there will be riots or something because of how hot this topic is in my town. I'm also worried about the hospital staff not showing up. Obviously the doctors and nurses will be there, but I don't know how many of the other positions may be taking the day off to protest. It's not just the illegals, there are many legal people who agree with them that are protesting too.

Poster2: I'm all for a lifetime without illegals personally. We're flooded with them here in Michigan too.

Poster3: Ticks me off we pay for illegals healthcare bills (im in Texas, so I know ALL about illegals), but honest hard working people who are here b/c our govt allowed them to be, cannot even get help. They need to fix this dam* border problem or just close it off for good. I'm so tired of all the drama and complaints from people who will possibly lose their jobs to illegals who will work for less money....

Poster4: I know... I didn't want to get into my opinions on this because I get so worked up, but I totally agree with you guys. It just makes me mad that this is something I have to worry about on the day I have my baby. I feel so overprotective of her on top of feeling angry that these people think they have the right to protest. Not something I really want to be dealing with.

Poster5: If illegal mexicans (and other nationalities) were not here to pick our apples I am quit sure that our own citizens would be willing to do it. What the heck do you think we did BEFORE we got flooded by illegal immigrants? Just starve? Did we let the apples and cherries rot off the vine? Poster 6: I would GLADLY pay extra to have those apples picked by legal citizens. (and I mow my own lawn and take care of my own kids thank you.) Then we wouldn't have to pay for all of the government programs that dish out to illegals. It would all equal up in the end. Oh and I wouldn't have to hear the option to press one for English, two for Spanish everytime I make a phone call to a company. I only wish that while the illegals are protesting that the government would step in with busses and take every last one out of my country.


ME: Wow such vehement dislike of migrant workers. How many of us on this board are Native Americans? I'm guessing not very many which means most of us have ancestors who were immigrants. Regarding seasonal crops and willingness to pay more for them. THat's all well and good but part of the reason this labor pool is used is because our products are exported to Asia the global market is very competitive. I think you'd be surprised to know that the reason the government uses illegal immigrants to pick apples and other crops is because it's necessary to keep the farmers in business. Our economy depends on exporting many of these products to Asia and the competition between the US products and other nations products is fierce. The US can offer the best rates for these exports because the migrant labor is so inexpensive. Our economy would seriously suffer if we were no longer able to export our products because of the high prices needed to pay American nationals who would surley demand higher wages--migrant workers do not earn minimum wage, they earn less and it would be illegal to American nationals the rate illegal immigrants recieve.


Poster 6: Like I said in an earlier post, I'm a legal immigrant from Canada and to legally come here on my visa I paid over $1000 US and then on top of that, once I got here I had to pay another $500Us or so for paper work. Recently I had my green card re-newed and it cost me another $200. When I hear of people being here illegally and not paying these fees it makes me upset. Also, I pay taxes as well. Do they? I had to get a workers SSN to get my drivers license. That's about $200 so I can drive legally. Can you see why it would upset people who go about it the right way. Oh, and not all apples are picked by migrant workers.


ME I completely understand the money issue and I agree it is a huge financial burden for not only our nation but for the people who come here legally. I am not disputing that it needs to be fixed and that it is unfair. All I'm asking for is a bit of compassion and empathy for these people who are very poor and an acknowledgement that our nation can not survive without immigrant labor. I'm sure there are other people who pick apples and other produce, but I've never seen them and can imagine it's a very small percentage of the population, which is why the government condones the use of illegal workers for harvesting. I've spent time on major farms and I have yet to see an American national picking. This is grueling work and I can't imagine only the most desperate of people would do it. Many of these crops are harvested 24/7 using flood lights at night to pick. Cristina

Poster 8: My husband, who just fathered my beautiful baby boy, is here illegally. He came from Mexico. Before he came, he earned a degree in Industrial Engineering. He tried to get a visa, and they gave him a 2 week one as a visitor. He couldn’t get anything other kind because his family isn't rich. Yes, that's how it works in Mexico. So, he came here illegally and of course can't use his education. Instead he works a manual labor job to support us. And he makes about 3x more than he would in Mexico using his degree. We have been trying to get his visa through me, his natural born American citizen, for over 2 years now. We aren't even anywhere close to getting it. Even when we do get our appt, he can get a 10 year bar to the country. So, that effects me, too. My son and I (both "Americans") will have to leave the country, too, to be with Dad. Why does this process have to be so complicated? My husband pays his taxes every year, and is a good person to be here. (don't forget that illegal immigrants still have taxes, social security and Medicare taken out of their checks and they 'll most likely never be able to use the social security). also, as far as the jobs no one wants... look at who is cleaning up New Orleans? the majority of them is not the residents that were living there. All of those ppl are still living in apts and hotels that FEMA is paying for, using food stamps and all the other services provided free by the government. And I'm sure that most of the same ppl are not working! Yet, the ppl cleaning up the area, risking their health, are the illegals! but they're taking the jobs that other ppl want?! the the mayor of New Orleans still has the nerve to say he wants to make sure that the city returns to being "chocolate"! And he didn't get any heat for saying it! Why, because he was only talking about the Mexicans! If a white or black were to say that comment about someone else, there would be he*l to pay. as for May 1, it's the equivalent of labor day in Mexico. that's why that day was chosen. it' the day to let the gov't know what a person would like changed, etc. According to what I've heard on the news, if a person wants to protest, they are suppose to ask for the day off, not just skip work! one pp said it was a cheap way to get out of work. I have to disagree since they won't be getting paid and are going to be out protesting!Remember this all started when congress was trying to pass laws, one including that it could be a felony to have an illegal alien your presence. This protest, in my opinion, is just to get the message across that the illegal aliens are not just ppl that don't matter and that value less than us (as I can see that some ppl on this board think). They are all individuals that came here with a dream. Each and every one had a reason to come here, to make life better. And they do make a difference here in the US and our daily lifes. My husband for example came here to be able to send money to his parents. His dad had a stroke and he still sends money to buy medication.Please don't let some high school students protest, who don't evne know what they're protesting, taint the true message that is trying to be sent by the ppl who are trying to protest the right way and the right message.

Tami, proud mommy to my Mexican-American baby, Noah

Poster 9: I am not going to get into the arguments about the topic, but if anyone is interested in what the day is all about, there is a movie called A Day Without a Mexican that came out in 2004 that might shed some light on the topic. Also, ALL Latinos/as will be participating in the marches - not only "illigals." please remember you don't know who is on the other side of the computer, so no matter which side of the issue you are on, please be nice! (Also, don't forget this board is not just used by Americans, so we are representing America here. There are a lot of ppl here from other countries, too!).

Amy

The Finest Brasserie in Boston

Living on a graduate student's stipend does not mean gourmet is out of the question.

This is the way we do fancy tower food in our house. We call this Refuse Ratatouille, or Plat de Poubelle in it's traditional form. Just a few orange peels, some mashed tomatoes, grape vines and egg shells and you can have yourself a picnic as pleasant as this picture, table cloth not included.

Bon Appetit!

My hump, my lumpy bumpy hump!

Thanks for the very appropriate song, Black Eyed Peas, the song for which this entry is titled after.

If ever you were vain, narcissistic or just loved to photograph yourself, then pregnancy will really suit you. See... it's like this---My body... my god, is this my body?

It's just really amazingly strange to have a person inside you and one who is serious about making you know when he's awake and ready to jump around.

High Fashion Photo Shoot

I'm happy to say I've been selected as the new spokes model for the sexy new "Quality" stove you see to the left of each frame. Because there's nothing sexier than a pregnant lady cooking.

A Very Special Place

I'd like to share some of the things that make my 'day job' so very special. After all, it is the world's most prestigious research institute, so super duper special-ness is a given. But please read this list anyway because my 'list of specials' points out very specific specialities, some that might even impress you.

1.
Out my large office window is a courtyard with a lovely tree with birds mating in it. I can also see the people in the offices bordering the courtyard, including the gent who rocks himself back and forth in his chair like a metronome. He only stops to take a bite or drink of something. I've been here since 8:30 this morning and it's now 1:00, he hasn't stopped.

2.
The simplest technology is apparently beyond the brains here. For instance indoor plumbing (flushing) is just a waste of time.

3.
Personal space is not really personal. Slamming into pregnant ladies as you race up the stairs, or standing so close to the person in front of you so that you blow dry her hair with your mouth air is okay.

4.
Ice cream spells a WHOPEE good time! Apparently a really great way to get people together is to have an ice cream social. I'm sorry did I miss something? Is this 1950? Isn't ice cream socializing a bit, uhm... juvenile and outdated? What’s next--sock hops?

5. If you want to make a fashion statement, your choices are pretty limited.
a. Wear high heels with anything you have on, even sweats.
b. Go barefoot for that special 'I might be a nerd but I'm a radical nerd' look.
c. Wear flip-flops all-day, everyday, even in blizzards.
d. Grow your facial hair like Rasputin.
e. If you want people to know you're sexually liberated wear the widely available T-shirt from the Coop which instructs you to 'Love your beaver.'

* Note: Talking to yourself while wearing any of the above fashions will not make you appear to be any smarter than you are or more of a fashionista--self-talk is the norm.

6.
If you see a pregnant lady, be afraid, very afraid. In fact, avert your eyes, her gaze will melt you.

Did I mention I have 83 days left of work, including weekends?

Thanks Terry Tate, Subway Linebacker!

You, a man riding the subway at rush hour, have a seat.
A pregnant gal gets on but there are no seats left so she stands and braces herself as the train lurches through the bowels of the city.
You, like many of your fellow subway riders, pasty and dorky in your Lands End coats and toting cheap brief cases, are hard pressed to offer her your seat. I mean come on, it's like 5:00 and you worked hard to get that seat. You just avert your eyes and pretend you don't notice.
Then, a very large, very tough looking black man smiles at the pregnant lady, noticing her bump.
He also kindly points out the seat behind her that's free but as she turns, someone grabs it.
The man looks down at you and all the other lame excuses for men.
He waits.
Nothing happens.
Then something does happen. This man channels the powers of Terry Tate Office Linebacker.
He, in a very stern yet quiet voice ( a voice implying pain cake was ready to be served) says "Which of you gentlemen is going to give this pregnant lady your seat?"
You all look up to see this man glower at you. You act surprised and taken off-guard because you can see the pain cake candles in his eyes.
You get up, pregnant gal sits down, and Terry Tate gets off at the next stop.

Thanks Terry Tate Subway Linebacker!

Humpty Dumpty Versus Chyna

I volunteered at the MSPCA animal shelter last Sunday. Good times walking dogs and holding cats. Such good times in fact that the staff there decided I'd be a good candidate for walking the dogs that are off limits to volunteers because they either have behavior issues or haven't been evaluated by a dog whisperer. Of course I agreed, gleefully in fact.

"How about you take the Siberian Husky or the Pit-bull?"
"Sure thing" says me.

Chyna, the pit-bull ( I should have figured out sooner why this dog is called Chyna), was a force to be reckoned with. The cute whimpering behind the cage, it was just an act.

We leash up and away, I mean AWAY AT HIGH SPEEDS we go. Mind you, I'm sort of front heavy and a little tippy in a humpty dumpty sort of way. This made restraining, or attempting to restrain, Chyna a challenge at best.

I decide there is no way I was going to be able to walk this dog so I took her into the dog run, where there were lots of toys and room to gallop about. About this time, a volunteer walked by with two pit bulls from the 'safe-to-be-walked-by-volunteers' category--this is when things got a little, uhm... exciting.

Chyna, like a wrestler trying to psyche out her opponent, started to race back and forth while throwing herself against the fence--she added some growling for effect. The other two dogs were unfazed and the volunteer was a mindless foolio. I had to yell at her and tell her to get her dogs out of sight.

Chyna then proceeded to add mauling a deflated soccer ball and jumping all over me for the extra special tough finale.

A more 'seasoned' volunteer walked by, one who had also been recruited to walk the 'staff-only dogs', and let me know that it was really nice that I was walking Chyna because she was going to be put to sleep because she can't be adopted because she's so out of control.

After our fun time in the dog run, Chyna was nice enough to pull me up a flight of stairs on our way in--I needed that help, so thanks Chyna. In her cage she went and off I went to ask the 'staff' what the deal was with this dog.

"Ya, she's pretty dangerous. She's actually getting worse."

Hmm. Things I would have liked to know ahead of time.

On the other hand, I got to walk some very lovely pooches. There was Zeus the rotund German Shepard, and Ella the retired Greyhound from a Florida dog track.

The Mean Lady in the White Coat

From Friday to Saturday I gained 4 lbs, which can only be a result of water retention from the Vietnamese food we ate on Saturday.

Background: I have always been, shall we say 'weight conscious', some might even say obsessive, maybe even a touch of body dimorphic-ness.
I work out, we have no car and therefore I walk everywhere the T can't take me. Bottom line, I get my workout on.

This morning I woke up puffy, but nothing unusual--my rings still fit.

We walked to the train. I sat on the train and watched my fingers turn into sausages.

This had me a bit worried and had me thinking I had a raging case of preeclampsia.

I get to work, call the clinic and they tell me to come in immediately to see a Dr.--my midwife wasn’t in today.

Background: My opinion of MIT medical? Let's just say I don't much care for it. Bedside manners have a lot to be desired there, which is why I went with a midwife, and even that decision wasn't without it’s problems (The downs syndrome scare of 2006).

So I get to the clinic this morning and the nurse says it's weighing time. I told her I had divorced the scale but she begged to differ. The number was as I expected.

Background: I decided last Sunday night that the next morning's 20 week appointment was going to be the time I rebel against the scale. After himming and haaing about my Vietnamese water weight, I decided to divorce the Drs office scale. At my appointment I declared "You will not be weighing me from this appointment forward". The nurse was of course a bit taken aback but I felt totally justified because my first visit with my midwife she told me that if I ever got to a point where seeing the scale numbers was too much to bear that they would just stop weighing me. She let me know that this was very unconventional in MIT's eyes and the Drs at MIT are very old school. She told me that there is no evidence that weighing expectant mothers does any good--they don't usually do anything with the numbers except berate you if they're too high. She said they don't weight in the UK and as long as it's clear I'm not starving, which it is, then I can decide to take the scale or leave it.

I'm put in a room for the usual extended Dr. wait time. She finally arrives.

Question: What's the first thing she says to me?

Answer: "Gaining too much weight, that's your problem." "You need to see a nutritionist and exercise." I wanted to cry but held it together. What this has to do with the puffiness and water retention I called about, I have no idea.

She ordered some lab tests which she said were unnecessary because there's nothing wrong with me other than gaining too much weight.

I go to the lab. They draw the blood. I leave the lab and blood starts gushing out of my arm, dripping all over the floor. They put me in the emergency room until I stop blood letting.

The blood didn't freak me out but the people in the ER thought I was clearly shaken because they could see I was teary-eyed. What they didn't know what that it was because of the meany in the white coat who made me feel like Miss Piggy.

On the way back to my office someone asked me if I was due in May--don't I wish jerk!

The End.

10, 15, and 20 weeks! Half Baked!

No whining!

Whiners with Elephant Ears

Remember that whiney tattle-tale in elementary school?
Wonder what kind of adult he turned out to be?
Check out the Toronto Star's article if you're curious.

More Stuff, in list form

I love and hate Boston for its garbage.
Love what you come across on the street on garbage day (couches, chairs, books, bookcases, etc). Hate all the trash littered, everywhere.

Yesterday was a Boston love day as I came across a bag labeled FREE outside a swanky house. Being the daughter of Chuck Todd, the world's most prolific salvageer of things deemed junk, I naturally had to inspect. What I found is now mine. Inside that bag: fancy damask bed linens from Spain, complete with embroidered pillow shams. SCORE! I'm sure something dark is associated with these sheets. Perhaps a body was rolled in them, or maybe a wife came home to her husband having a nooner on them. Whatever the dark secret of these linens, I don't care because they are LOV-E-LY.

Alex felt Little Man Mallet kick last night.

We saw a great bumper sticker the other day. "BOYCOTT SHAMPOO! Demand Real Poo!"

Stuff

I'm not feeling particularly long winded these days so here's a list of the latest.

Spring is officially here, but unfortunately that is not yet apparent to Boston's Mother Nature.

We got our first baby presents and I think they are just about the bestest presents eva. They prove just how cool my friends are and just how well they know what I'd like. Thanks to Lori, Paul, Claire and William for:Lullabies from the Axis of Evil , The Baby Owner's Manual : Operating Instructions, Trouble-Shooting Tips, and Advice on First-Year Maintenance; & a super groovy handmade mobile of Savanna creatures, which Sandeep loves ;)

This May, in The Land of Milk and Honey my sister Rhonda is throwing us a 'goodbye to adult life' party (aka: baby shower). It's going to be co-ed and people will be required to sign a "I promise not to 'ohhhh', 'ahhhh', or say the words 'cute', 'precious' or 'adorable' at any time during this adult soiree which will have adult food and beverages." I've had a hard time stomaching my sister's vision of us all "sitting in a circle watching you open baby presents", which prompted the above mentioned contract. I'm just not really the cutsey wootsey baby showering sort, so living out of town and coming home for it makes it seem more like a 'Hey, we're home! Let's Party Like Rock Stars' sort of affair. Not that I've ever partied like a rock star, but maybe I should try before I'm "MOM".

Speaking of Seattle, I've discovered I'm really bummed out that el Niño won't be born in Seattle, like me. If he's going to be American then I wish he were brought into the world on the west coast, because we all know the west is best. He'll be the first East Coaster in my family.

I only have 15 weeks, or 103 days (including weekends), left at work. June 30th will be a glorious glorious day.

My rib cage has expanded 4 inches, which from what I've read is due to the fact that my lung capacity has increased 40%. If ever there were a time to run a marathon..... ya right.

The End

Sandeep in Sweater

Shot with Hopes for Bought

I recently sent in a submission to Age Fotostock, the photo agency I have a contract with, and this is what they picked up.

Message From The Womb

Hi, I'm a boy and a happy boy because this house I'm in has gotten a lot more comfortable and relaxing since last Friday when my parents got word that I'm healthy and normal. See, a couple of weeks ago there was this big ol' needle that seriously harshed on my amniotic-fluid mellow.

Now, for the adult version on this go to my dad's web thingy.

My Better Half Says it Better

Check out Alex's recent post (linked here) on funny phrasings.

Cat in the Hat

Big ups to Sandeep, our cat, for being such a willing fit model. He's modeling a hat I just finished for el Nino.

Now is this not the face of a proud Papa?