Ozzily Yours

Fun with Language

2009-05-05T10:07:00.002-05:00

So I went to Target yesterday. Which was thrilling, as always. Anyway, on my way in, I noticed a sign on the door that said, "Only service animals allowed inside store."

Which was awesome, because it made me picture a Target that caters exclusively to seeing eye dogs and helper monkeys.

Fly, My Pretties! Fly!

2009-04-05T10:33:00.003-05:00

So this photo was posted on Dogs Looking Like People with only the following commentary:

"I don't know."

OK, I know most people aren't as obsessed as I am... but really, does no one else immediately recognize them as the Wicked Witch of the West's flying monkeys???

Good TV Remains Addictive, Even with a Baby to Distract You

2009-03-24T09:51:00.005-05:00

The husband and I had not watched an episode of "Lost" since Ozmo arrived on January 28. I was a little worried that his two-week spring break would not be enough time to catch up on the 7 episodes that had piled up on the Tivo.

It took two and half days.

Adjustments

2009-03-02T13:10:00.002-06:00

Just six months ago, I considered the following to be noteworthy accomplishments:

A sold-out house; patrons going out of their way to compliment my staff on their excellent customer service; a quantifiably successful ad run; creating and implementing more efficient data collection procedures.

Also: making and serving a scrumptious dinner; ample time spent with the husband; finishing an excellent book.

Not to mention: getting all errands done quickly and efficiently on a Sunday morning; meeting friends for a leisurely brunch; being caught up on e-mails and phone calls.

And now, successes include:

Getting through bedtime at night with minimal fuss; loading the dishwasher; taking a shower; convincing Floyd we still love him; and best of all, coaxing a smile out of Ozmo.

I know this period will be brief, and that items from the above lists will eventually make their way back into my life. Still, though, it feels a little strange. Good, but strange.

Ozmo Blogzmo

2009-02-11T11:27:00.002-06:00

As you likely know, before we knew Calvin was Calvin, we referred to him as Ozmodiar - Ozmo for short. We have the sneaking suspicion that that nickname will stick around to some extent (thanks partly to Rob, who continues to insist that our child's name ought to be Ozmodiar Floyd Jr. Elzweig). As such, to keep up with his comings and goings, we are proud to present Ozmo Blogzmo. (There are some older posts here as well detailing some of the pregnancy goings-on....)

Because you don't already have enough that you're not paying attention to in your RSS feed, I know....

41 Weeks and Counting

2009-01-25T14:51:00.002-06:00

So for those of you keeping score at home, yes, Ozmodiar's estimated date of delivery was Monday, January 19. And for those of you assuming we've just forgotten about you... while I must admit I wish that were the case, that I had, in fact, given birth and just flaked on communicating that to my friends, no, the stubborn little stinker is still hanging out inside my uterus.

The husband has pointed out that he and I both tend to be just a tiny bit stubborn (I know you're all shocked by that revelation!) and, as such, perhaps should not be surprised by our offspring's reticence.

If he or she doesn't choose to make an appearance within the next few days, we'll head to the hospital later this week for an induction. (The husband was glad to hear that "induction" is the official medical term rather than "inducement" since, as he pointed out, we've been trying inducement for days now, shouting at my belly, "Hey, come on out! Bush is out of office! We have great things out here like chocolate and video games!" These efforts, clearly, have been to no avail.)

So there you have it. Hopefully you'll see a blog post and/or e-mail (from him, clearly, not from me) by the end of the week. Thanks, as always, for the well wishes that you've been sending our way, and wish us luck!!!

1 in a Series of N

2009-01-07T12:21:00.004-06:00

Where N will, I assume, approach infinity. Theorizing that the likelihood of me being six months pregnant just in time for Halloween was unlikely to happen again, the husband and I decided that a theme costume was clearly in order. And, as such, I present the first photo which we have no doubt we will enjoy using to embarrass Ozmo during his or her adolescent years:

And for those who are wondering, that dress is not from a costume shop, but from a website that purports to sell actual maternity clothes. What you can't tell from the photo, sadly, is that it came down to the mid-thigh area, if that. And that the neckline was, um, deep. It was fascinating. And led to many jokes about how women who dress like that after becoming pregnant? Well, it's not hard to guess how they got that way (ruining my feminist cred a little here, but come on! it's just so easy!). Sadly, though, the sequins scratched my arms up so badly that the dress ended up in the dumpster the next morning, so I'm afraid you'll never get the chance to see it yourself.

Not much excuse for my silence over the last couple of months. Given that I pretty much spend my days incubating, it's not like I haven't had the time... but I suspect that's actually the reason for my lack of communication. After all, how many times can I say that my joints ache (to be expected), I'm pleased to have the time to cook a lot (although that's fading now that we're in the home stretch and I'm spending less and less time on my feet), and I thank my lucky stars for Netflix (speaking of which, "Weeds"? Is AWESOME. At least season 1 is.).

Anyway, not much else to say. The pregnancy has not been complication-free, and we got to know Prentice Women's Hospital much better than we wanted to much earlier than we wanted to. But all issues seem to have cleared themselves up, there was never an official period of bed rest, and we're feeling lucky for the support and good cheer of those around us. We're 12 days away from the due date, but we also know that first babies apparently frequently arrive late, so I'm preparing myself for the possibility of, say, 3-4 more weeks of sore knees and shoulders. Such is life.

See? This is not interesting. Pregnant prom photos, however? Those are TOTALLY interesting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a second season to dig into.

Tiny Slices of History?

2008-11-17T13:27:00.003-06:00

This morning, I dropped the husband off downtown at his internship, in a government office surrounded by other government offices. I've done this many times before. This was the first time, however, that traffic was stopped at Adams and Dearborn by a traffic cop who waved a squad car over to block the intersection... after which three more squad cars passed through, followed by at least half a dozen enormous black SUVs piloted by beefy guys in dark suits and sunglasses. Bringing up the rear was a Chicago Trolley, which I first found incongruous, but then concluded was perhaps ferrying the press. All told, it delayed me maybe a minute total... and I thought, I guess this is what it's going to be like in Chicago for the next few months. And I was pleased all over again.

What I Learned Today

2008-10-27T14:49:00.002-05:00

It may not be the wisest decision in the world to send the pregnant woman shopping for the Halloween candy.

Inappropriate Responses

2008-10-06T16:53:00.002-05:00

In our weekly online survey (sent to folks who attend the show the weekend prior), we always ask if folks have "other things they'd like to share." I had one respondent today complete the entire survey, including the information that his/her household makes upwards of 100K/year (this will be relevant, I promise), and then comment: "Wish I could help you, but I skipped the show to watch the VP debate. I sure wish you had an exchange policy."

It is SO HARD not to e-mail back, "I sure wish you had a VCR or a DVR."

The This-Next Controversy Continues

2008-09-26T12:32:00.002-05:00

Conversation at work this morning:

Director of Development: Hey, Grants Writer, does Rosh Hashanah start this Monday or next Monday?
Grants Writer (who happens to be Jewish, clearly): ...do you mean... next Monday or the Monday after that?
DD: No - I mean this Monday or next Monday.
GW: But this Monday already happened.
DD: What? No, I mean...
Me (explosively, I will admit): No, GW, this Monday is the Monday that's three days from now, and next Monday is the Monday following that!
GW: No, this Monday is the Monday of this week, and next Monday is the Monday of next week.
Me: No, that is completely untrue.
Intern (not only doing awesome work for me, but also having my back, woo!): She's totally right about this, this Monday is the upcoming Monday.
DD: THANK YOU! I fight with my husband about this all the time!
Me: Yeah, well, tell him he's wrong. And GW is wrong, too.
GW: OK, clearly you've recently gotten into a fight about this very subject [funny, because he's occasionally read this blog...]. But I think I'm right and, DD, I'm going to call your husband and tell him he's right, too.
Me: No, you're wrong, and do I have to remind you that DD is your supervisor? I don't know if you want to be stirring up shit in her home life, given that she could make things difficult for you.
GW: ...Rosh Hashanah begins on Monday the 29th. Does that answer your question?
DD: Yes. Thank you.... MCM, do you have any documentation on this, so I can prove to my husband he's wrong?

And so I seem to have stumbled into a project....

Save Bitch!

2008-09-18T12:56:00.002-05:00

OK, I never imagined I'd be promoting a cause here, especially given that I have all of about 4 readers... but I think Bitch Magazine (subtitle: Feminist Response to Pop Culture) is a really important voice in today's climate, where feminism is either dismissed as irrelevant/outdated, dismissed as women being a bunch of whiny dykes or, in the last few weeks, weirdly co-opted by a woman whose history doesn't seem to imply all that much concern for women's rights.

I think Broadsheet puts it better than I can:

Bitch's themed issues -- on such broad and varied subjects as "Risk" and "Maturity & Immaturity" -- dissect the arts, the media and the larger cultural conversation through the lenses of gender and sexuality. The quarterly magazine is one of a very few remaining sources of sensible, contemporary, long-form feminist critique. While I don't always agree with Bitch's articles, the magazine unfailingly challenges me to think harder about the films I watch, the music I listen to, the news I read and the culture I live in.

Even if you don't give, check Bitch out, and tell other folks about it. I would consider just exposing more people to their awesome work an important victory....

Irrationally Annoyed (and Defensive!)

2008-09-16T12:53:00.002-05:00

So I just sent someone this e-mail:

You are all set with one ticket for next Sunday, 9/28.

And got this response:

that's 2 sundays from now. 9/28. thanks.

And I really really really want to write back and say, yes, that's next Sunday. THIS Sunday would be 9/21, whereas NEXT Sunday is 9/28. And why do people always get that confused? Seriously, it's not that hard! And now you think I'M the dumb-ass when, in reality, clearly it is YOU who are the dumb-ass! And yes, the correct verb there is ARE, not IS, because it corresponds with YOU. RAR!

In the interest of keeping the peace, though, I should probably just ignore it.

Neither H, nor N-E....

2008-09-08T11:32:00.003-05:00

When the husband and I were married, we were committed, first and foremost, to each other. We wanted to celebrate each other, and our life together, to the fullest before we even considered having children.

And when I say "considered," please know that that word is chosen very carefully. We went into our marriage knowing that nothing was a foregone conclusion. Frankly, it bothers me that so many people assume that having children is simply "what you do" after committing your life to another person (the same way it bothers me when women don't, for even a moment, stop and question whether they should take their husband's name upon marriage... but that's another discussion for another day).

It is a HUGE decision, not one to be entered into lightly. And it's certainly not a task that everyone is up for. Some people recognize that, and choose to opt out of parenthood, and are inevitably told that they will regret their decision some day. Other people go ahead and have kids, having had it drilled into them that it is the "right" thing to do, and never stop to question whether it's the right thing for them, for their marriage, for their life plans, or for the children in question. We didn't want to be those people - we wanted to make decisions on our terms and, if we did choose to have children, wait until we felt we were ready.

And we told people that - "don't assume we're going to have children." That phrase came out of both of our mouths several times, particularly in the first year or two of our marriage.

Many people took that to mean "we aren't going to have children." It makes me sad that we live in a society where people really do equate "I'm not chomping at the bit to reproduce right now, please don't make any assumptions about our future plans" with "I have no intention of having children, ever." One family member recently said to me, "You were so adamant about not having children!" Frankly, I got defensive upon hearing that, and responded, "No, that was never true. We were adamant that no one should make assumptions one way or the other."

We've talked about what the right choice is for us for quite a while. And we began referring to a future with HNEC... our Hypothetical, Non-Existent Child. Potential career changes? "Well, if you got a new job, maybe it would make sense for me to work part-time and spend some of my time with HNEC." The possibility of another pet? "I don't know, Floyd might have to get used to HNEC at some point, too." Moving? "Well, there's the chance we'd need another room for HNEC."

HNEC became a topic of conversation more and more often. Until the revelation that we probably shouldn't refer to it as HNEC any longer when it became neither hypothetical nor non-existent.

So now, five months in, we're calling it Osmodiar. Osmo for short.

Living the Dream

2008-09-03T14:17:00.002-05:00

In one of Chicago's tonier suburbs over the weekend, I saw a fancy-schmancy new Lexus with a vanity license plate reading CLICHE.

I couldn't decide whether I found it amusing or ridiculous.

On Pet Ownership

2008-08-21T12:47:00.001-05:00

At about 5:30 this morning, my cat sneezed.

I know this because his face was about 2 inches from mine at the time.

Ah, feline saliva....

An Addendum

2008-08-21T12:45:00.003-05:00

Two conversations I inexplicably left out the first time around:

Playing cards with I and H when C asks to play, too. We end up inventing a game in which H shows him a card and if he correctly identifies it, he gets to have it. "Fwee!" he cries. "Four! A!" Until we get to Eight. He stares for a moment, furrows his little brow, purses his little lips and then, shaking his head slightly, declares, "I don't want that one."
And a quote from C after he emerges from the bathroom: "There was a lot of pee in there! It was good to get it out."

Conversations with Boys

2008-08-18T14:37:00.004-05:00

Just spent a delightful 4 days in Wisconsin with (almost) the whole family, including all four nephews. Some conversational highlights include:

The husband comes outside with a cookie in hand.
3-year-old C: Hey, can I have some of that?
The husband: Sure, you can have a little piece.
C: What is it, though?
H: ...a cookie. You didn't know what it was when you asked for it?
C: [no answer, just wanders away chewing thoughtfully]

H to 5-year-old D: So what do you like best about being here?
D: I like you. Also, I like him [pointing to his grandfather], her [to his aunt]... wait... [counting everyone in the room] I like seven people!

Me to C: Hey, C, how's your morning going?
C: I'm not C! I'm THE FWASH!
Me: OK, then. [20 minutes later] Hey, Flash, what are you doing?
C: I'm not Fwash! I'm Supaboy!

D to his father, I: Can I be excused to go to the playground?
I: Tell you what - stay here long enough to order your own ice cream cone, and then you can take it out to the playground.
D: But I wanna go out NOW!
I: I know, but you have to carry your own dessert outside, that's all.
D: But I wanna go to the playground!
I: And you will, I just want you to order your ice cream first.
D: No, but I want the PLAYGROUND!
I: ...Um, okay. I'm offering you ice cream AND the playground, though.
D: I WANT TO GO TO THE PLAYGROUND. And I'm ONLY having ice cream if you MAKE ME STAY INSIDE.
I: All right, then. Don't have any ice cream, feel free to go outside.
D: Thank you.
I to me: ...That didn't make any sense, right?

The logic of boys is curious indeed. Still, though, they make for better conversation partners than their 13-month-old cousins, whose vocabularies pretty much consist of "Duck," "Ma," and "bllrghsagrblblbl."

Two Awesome Things That Happened This Morning

2008-07-15T10:30:00.002-05:00

1. I finally (finally!) had the opportunity to sample a Vosges Haut Chocolat Bacon Bar. And seriously, you guys? Oh. My. God. The problem is that now I feel the urge to spend hundreds of dollars at Vosges.

2. A coworker and I bonded over the fact that we have both been known to purposely aggressively shave over mosquito bites on our legs, scraping off the tops of the bites, to alleviate the itching. OK, this one is simultaneously disturbing and awesome. But awesome nonetheless.

Hippies and Highs in the 60s

2008-06-30T10:59:00.003-05:00

In SF visiting the husband for the whole week, which is nice. We went to the Symphony Saturday night for a performance of Dvorak's cello concerto, which was fine, and Lutoslawski's Mi Parti, which was amazing and a really exciting find.

It's always a challenge to dress when I'm away from home. Somehow I just never seem to pack right. I had my adorable grey sweater dress with me, but couldn't find the black wrap to go over it, and immediately wished that I had packed my black boots about which Kathy says, "There is nothing bad about those boots!" I made do with a black cardigan and pumps but, frankly, I was feeling self-conscious and not particularly well-put-together.

Until we walked in the box office door and landed in line right behind a woman who had gotten all decked out in a bright purple cotton skirt, a jacket whose tie-dying may well have been an at-home job, and a well-worn pair of Birkenstocks. And that wasn't even the worst outfit we saw that evening. An upside to being in a city full of hippies, I guess, you never have to feel self-conscious.

And speaking of being in a city full of hippies, I am really trying to identify why it inspires the passionate fervor it does. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a perfectly cromulent city; I just don't see why people love it so obsessively, refuse to live anywhere else, say, "Oh, your husband's spending the summer in San Francisco? At least you get to visit him there, I mean - San Francisco!!!"

The husband has asked a few folks why they consider it their favorite city, why they love it as much as they do, and thus far the answer seems to be "the weather."

The weather? Really? I call shenanigans. You don't get to be a world-class, adored city because you eschew seasons. I'm asking you, my four (five?) readers for your thoughts... tell me why I should love San Francisco above all other cities!

Awesome E-mail of the Day

2008-06-24T13:28:00.001-05:00

"Thank you so much for this information. I will defiantly look into this."

Blogiversary

2008-06-20T11:18:00.001-05:00

And only now, of course, am I startled by the revelation that today is Ozzily's second birthday. Phew, I'm glad I picked today to start posting again. Otherwise, this might have gone completely unnoticed.

Which, of course, would probably have been better.

Traveling, Produce, Whatnot

2008-06-20T10:29:00.003-05:00

Wow, it's been a month. And I feel like I've had things to say, but not found the time to say them. And now that I find myself with five minutes? Nothing.

Things have been complicated of late by the husband's temporary relocation to California. I believe most folks who might be reading this know that he has taken off to the Bay Area for 10 weeks for a summer associateship. I suppose if you didn't know that, well, you do now.

I headed out to visit last weekend, and will be there for the entire week of July 4th. We'll end up seeing each other every other weekend, in fact. Still sucks, though. Less than when we were long-distance for 2 years, I guess, but... yeah.

And what else have I been up to? Some work ridiculousness, lots of time reassuring the cat (who is feeling put upon that his playtime buddy is not here to throw him a toy mouse the right way - my way is, apparently, wrong), and just trying to catch up on some things around the house, I guess. I don't feel I have much to show for my month of silence.

I am pleased to report that the season's CSA shares started up again a couple of weeks ago. My awesome stepsister got me some fabulous cookbooks in preparation for the growing season. I am excited to really dig into them (I've stocked up on quinoa, farro, and other crazy grains)... but thus far, I've just been excited to make big ol' veggie sandwiches and lots of sauteed spinach. I'll get more adventurous with the next batch!

Important Questions for Our Times

2008-05-21T12:41:00.001-05:00

Why is it that people so very often reply-all when it's totally inappropriate?

And then people fail to reply-all when it would make life so much easier for all involved?

What's that about?

2008-05-15T10:23:00.003-05:00

So I heard this NPR story recently about the first white valedictorian to graduate from Morehouse, a historically black college. Interesting stuff, but the item that caught my attention was when the interviewer asked him something to the extent of, "Do you feel you've got a unique perspective, being the very rare white person who has been in the minority?"

What's your reaction to that? Because I immediately thought, well, it's not that rare. What about homo- and bisexuals, Jews, women in science, men in nursing? I'm not sure if the interviewer meant racial minority, specifically, but just didn't say it, or if she genuinely doesn't think that people in those situations are, in fact, minorities. I'm intrigued to hear other people's thoughts.