No Walking and Chewing Gum

January 9, 2011 at 1:12 am (Baby on the Brain, Randomness) (, , )

I am not a multitasker. I do not possess the skills required to do more than one thing at a time. That does not serve me well when I’m on the computer, on the phone, or driving. My girlfriend knows that I can’t listen to her if I’m working on a project (but she still talks to me anyway). She multitasks with the best of them, so she acknowledges my one-thing-at-a-timeness, but is unable to truly get it.

I can’t even listen to music if I’m trying to read or fill out paperwork. Some people need music or tv to fall asleep, I can only go to sleep if there’s no noise. Hence my need for earplugs (well, my girlfriend snores, too, but that’s another blog post).

This inability makes me worry about when we have kids. I’m never going to be able to get anything done if I have to finish one task before I can start another. At best, I’ll start a whole lot of stuff, get distracted, move onto a whole lot of other stuff, and have a half diapered child waiting to be fed while I’m in another room trying to pay bills or cleaning the microwave.

Another thing that worries me about this potential child? I stress out easily. To compensate I usually need a day all to myself to decompress. Like today–I cleaned the house, did the laundry, did some really anal-retentive things with my contacts list in my Outlook (I accidentally erased all of my contacts a couple of days ago. Talk about stress), and didn’t talk to anyone. All in all, I had a very good day. But I figure I’m not going to get a whole lot of these kinds of days when we have offspring. I don’t know how my mother did it. I mean, she’s one of the most independent, I-like-being-by-myself people I know. Does being a parent make you less selfish? I certainly hope it does for me.

I had a point to this post but I was sidetracked by watering my plants. Then I tripped on the way to the sink and had to clean up the water off the floor. Which led to getting out the mop. And now I’m too tired to do anything but stare at the words I’ve just typed.

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Christmas: It’s All About the Music

December 3, 2010 at 12:03 pm (Randomness) (, )

And by music, I’m not talking about the crap they play on the radio starting the freaking day after Halloween. I’m talking about the traditional carols, unbelievable harmonies, and Chanticleer. I’ve loved Chanticleer since they came to my high school to perform and do a workshop with my choir. I’ve seen them perform their Christmas concert in Carmel and at the Disney Hall in L.A. I have it on DVD. It gets played multiple times the week before Christmas. One of the pieces they do every year is on my top 10 list of favorite songs of all time.

I absolutely love sacred choral music and Christmas is a perfect opportunity for me to indulge in listening for hours, although my girlfriend probably would prefer we listen to Taio Cruz or something. It’s weird, I suppose, that I love sacred choral music so much, given that I was raised Buddhist and don’t believe in God. Or maybe it’s not so weird. I enjoy mass, too, although not for its dogma but for its ritual, structure, and tradition. Yes, I can probably recite the mass in Latin, only because I’ve sung it. Buddhism doesn’t have the same ties to music. We have chanting. Which doesn’t necessarily require the ability to sing in tune.  I’ve loved singing big choral works, my particular favorites are requiems:  Mozart, Brahms, even Rutter. And part of our holiday tradition is to participate in the L.A. Master Chorale’s Messiah Sing Along, which will happen this weekend.

Christmas for me is about family, yes, but even more, it’s about the feeling I get when I hear a great choir sing There Is No Rose. I could spend all day posting youtube videos of Christmas songs. But I should probably do something a bit more productive, like return my overdue library books.

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Dress to Impress

November 18, 2010 at 8:01 pm (Randomness) (, , , )

UPDATE: I just read this post and it’s mostly incoherent babbling. My excuse is that I was typing this as my girlfriend was watching Super Size Me on Hulu about 5 feet away. And she’s kind of deaf, so the volume was up kind of loud so I couldn’t really concentrate. Sorry.

I’m now the proud owner of 2 compression shirts, one white, one black. They work well for flattening my chest even more than my sports bras. Why flatten my AAA cups? When I’m working it’s just more convenient. And it’s way more comfortable when I work out. I’m not sure what binding (and I use that term loosely, I’m not really binding my breasts) says about me, and I don’t think I’m doing it for a more masculine look although more androgynous is ok with me. I have long hair and unless I’m wearing a baseball cap I rarely get mistaken for a man anymore. I think it might work to my advantage to be androgynous in construction.

Anyway, I wear mens clothing most of the time, but until about 2 months ago, I owned one pair of pants that weren’t jeans. I had to buy new pants and now that I’ve lost a little weight the womens pants now fit better than mens. So I have 3 pairs of womens trousers. My dress shirts are all womens because the cut is more flattering, but I’m really looking at custom shirts online that I can order to size. And I’m becoming enamored of cufflinks. So dressing up–do I feminize myself? I don’t think so. Not much, anyway. I feel much more butch in my every day stuff. Anything more than jeans and a t-shirt? Definitely androgynous. But with boots with chunky heels. I’ll never be a girly girl, that’s for sure.

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I Have a Big Mouth

November 10, 2010 at 12:07 am (Baby on the Brain, TGF) (, , , , )

I have a problem not telling people every single thing about me, my relationships, my friends, etc. I can’t keep a secret. I’m not a private person by nature. So if you ask me a question, I’ll usually answer it and give you more information than you ever wanted to know. People think I gossip. I don’t, really, I just don’t think what people tell me is ever private unless you tell me so specifically.

My girlfriend is quite the opposite. For all that she has a “public” persona whose face is all over numerous blogs and who serves on a board of directors for a prominent theater company in L.A., she doesn’t tell just anyone her business.

This creates conflicts in our relationship. More to the point, it pisses her off royally when I say stuff I’m not supposed to. I’m not discreet. At all.

Which is why, after telling 3 people in rehearsal tonight that we might try to have a baby, I had to then tell them, “Don’t say anything to anyone. My girlfriend’s gonna kill me if she finds out I told you.” Yes, I say that a lot. One would think I’d be better at keeping my mouth shut. But no, I’m an open book. I say what’s on my mind and rarely do I think before I say it.

This is my leading theory on why I’m not very employable, by the way.

But so far, I’ve not told anyone about this blog. I’m thinking that I want to keep it anonymous, even though my avatar looks eerily like me. I’ve not even told my girlfriend that I’m writing here. Maybe that’ll come up when we actively start trying to conceive. Maybe it won’t. Because I’m not really sure I want her to read what I’ve written so far, and I don’t want to start self-editing or leaving things out because I don’t want her to feel bad. Or worse, get mad at me.

So I suppose I need another sign. This one will say: KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.

Incidentally, the whole baby conversation started because I wore something kind of tight to rehearsal, and got a few comments about my weight loss. I said I’d like to lose another 30 if we’re going to try to have a baby. Yep. Big. Mouth. Dumb. Me.

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Adding People to my Blogroll

November 5, 2010 at 7:26 pm (Uncategorized) (, )

So I’ve added a few links over there on my blogroll. People I’ve been reading, off an on, for a few months. Lurking.

To those people I’ve added, if anything I’ve written sounds familiar, it’s because stuff you’ve said has made me think. It was not my intention to copy you in any way, it’s that I see that I have similar thoughts and thank Paula Deen that I’m not alone (I rarely invoke any deity if I can help it, and if Paula Deen can still be alive after cooking with so much butter all these years, she must be some sort of goddess).

So hello. If you’ve landed here, welcome.

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