Sunday

Stripping and sanding the paint off windows is an awful job. Word of advice: don't even bother with the non-toxic stripper. Better to risk brain damage from the fumes than insanity from a stipper that doesn't work. A palm sanders helps. And however long you think it's going to take, it will probably take you twice as long. Can you tell what I spent this rainy Sunday doing? Argh. There are at least four layer of paint that had bubbled and cracked on the bathroom window. One of these days, once my hands get so cramped up that I can't sand or scrape any more, I'll actually be able to paint it.

On a happier note, we're getting the hang of our new camera. This is Matt's handiwork.

LOLcano

Some people have way too much time on their hands ...

Methalicious

Today City Pages came out with their "Best of the Twin Cities." Some of their picks seem reasonable, others are right on the mark, some seem just plain wrong, others I've never heard of, and some are downright ludicrious. Take "Best Cheap Thrill: Crystal Meth." Predictably, this entry is getting many people's undergarments tied in knots. I'm not going to waste much time thinking about it, as that's what CP seems to be inviting (I have brothers; I know all about baiting), but come on. The blurb probably won’t entice someone to go out and whip up a batch of crystal meth in their woodshed or buy it from their local dealer, but the logic of their reasoning is ridiculous. Jumping off a bridge doesn’t cost one penny, and what a thrill! Somehow using stats from Hazelden seems to undermine their point rather than support it. And if they’re being intentionally asinine or ironic, a la Jonathan Swift, it doesn’t work.

Anyway, here's the entry:

BEST CHEAP THRILL

Crystal meth

Granted, meth (or crank or ice or glass or tweak or whatever else you call it) has wreaked horrendous damage on families and communities across Minnesota. Between the blizzard of scare stories in the media, the proliferation of those nasty "Life or Meth" billboards on the freeways, and the batch of harsh new meth laws passed by the legislature, Minnesotans seem to have come into collective understanding: meth is the evilest drug ever. Actually, not everyone agrees on this point. As it turns out, there are still plenty of enthusiasts in Minnesota. They value the drug for one reason: It provides a cheap thrill. Whatever else you want to say about meth, you can't deny that. In the "bang for the buck" category, meth blows away rival stimulants. At 80 to a hundred bucks a gram, a user (though not a high-tolerance addict) can stay energized for days on a single score. Before you have conniptions about the social costs associated with the meth abuse, we'll reiterate: It would have been best had meth not been invented. But remember this as well: In terms of overall social harm, meth still pales in comparison to the perfectly legal (and very lethal) drug of choice for most Minnesotans, alcohol. By the way, you've probably heard that a meth habit is all but impossible to kick. That does not seem to be the case. According to a study of 952 patients at the Hazelden treatment center, there was "no difference in outcomes between meth users and non-meth using patients as measured by continuous abstinence rates one year after treatment, satisfaction with psychosocial function, and satisfaction with health functioning."

The Air Up There

This is the same man that almost threw up during our helicopter tour over Kauai. It was a glorious weekend for climbing trees, and Matt rose to the challenge. (And no, dear, this blog isn't for dissing you.) He actually did an admirable job of removing an errant branch on a tree in our backyard. Does anyone know what we're now supposed to do with branches? Maybe we'll have a campfire. Somehow I don't know if we can get away with just leaving them at the curb. And did you know that big extension ladders only lean against things? I know that's probably an idiotic thing to "discover," but when it came time to climb one, I was surprised that that's all the support they get. I briefly attempted to wash the windows using this ladder and then came up with a "better" plan that involved leaning out one side of the window and cleaning the other. It worked and I'm still in one piece, other than a potentially broken thumb. But that happened about four months ago. Somehow I doubt that I'm cut out for rock climbing.

New arrival!

Please join me in welcoming Jonah Nathaniel Beinart to the world. Born on Friday, April 14 at 12:38 p.m. What a cutie!

FYI

Just a reminder ... if anyone would like to pay me to avoid bad press in my blog (à la Jared Paul Stern, allegedly) I do have a paypal account. E-mail for details.

For more on that juicy scandal: http://www.gawker.com/news/payola-six

Wall Candy

I thought I'd pass along this website where you can buy cool wall-hanging kits. We have this one hanging on our bedroom wall. They make a statement and aren't that expensive, and they have a pretty good selection of Merimekko and Ljungbergs fabrics that range from botanicals to abstract to more traditional. I guess wall hangings are a throwback to the 70s...but who can remember back that far?

http://store.txtlart.com

The Whole White Thing

I'm not taking about race relations. I'm referring to the "No White Before Memorial Day/After Labor Day" commandment. A friend and I were recently talking about this golden rule of fashion. Where did it come from? What did it mean? And to what did it apply? I have been carrying around a big pearly cream bag since about January, and suddenly I realized that I may have been committing a serious fashion faux pas. Or had I? Do purses apply? I should preface this question by saying that I really don't care one way or another, since the rule is obviously old-fashioned and irrelevant. After all, if the omniscient rule-makers had known the trends to come, I suspect they would have made a "No Furry Ugg Boots After St. Patrick's Day" rule, but one of the hottest (get it? hottest?!) trends in NYC a summer or two ago was Ugg boots with skirts in the dead of summer. No thanks.

I did some research, and it all comes down to shoes. Or class. Or the heat of summer. Really, the original rule appears to have been: Don't wear white SHOES (pumps, flats, etc.) before Memorial Day. It just wasn't done. And since your shoes are supposed to match your bag...my bad. I guess someone had to make up such a rule to distinguish proper fashionistas from the rest of us.

Luckily, breaking the rules is now just as often a mark of fashion independence and confidence rather than cluelessness. At least, sometimes it is. Cross-trainers with nylons and a business suit still make me cringe.

Ratman

One day last year Matt and I were debating whether to read Dostoevsky to each other or watch "The 50 Funniest Pranks" on VH1. Since we had just the night before acted out Camus' "L'Etranger" en francais and each written essays on the literary ramifications of the absurd, we opted for VH1 (granted, we had been channel surfing for a while). I think this was the winner for the funniest prank, and I have to say we found it hilarious. We were telling some friends about it last night, and I knew it had to be on the Internet. So, for your enjoyment...

Bathtime

Do you know what it's like to take a bath every day? We do, because we've been painting the downstairs bathroom, and the upstairs one only has a bath. Eventually we'll put a shower up there, but right now the wall slants into the tub so there's no easy way to rig up a shower. But that's ok. There's nothing like waking up and jumping in a refreshing, hot bath! Or coming back from a workout and jumping in the bath. At least this bathroom has the movie star lights all around the mirror. Here's a picture from when the house was listed. I especially like the flower touch, the carpet toilet cover and the padded toilet seat (take my word for it, it's divine! Not really.)

This bathroom is also pink, you might notice, but happily it's only the walls, and that can be easily remedied when we get around to it. We are nearing completion on the painting/regrouting effort downstairs. If anyone wants painting/caulking/grouting tips, check out the following websites: thisoldhouse.com, hgtv.com, and thewizardsworkshop.com (this is Brian Santos—I had to talk to him for work, as he was a featured speaker at the Home & Garden Show, for which we produced the program). You can also send me your questions, but I don't pretend to be an expert (although at this rate I might be soon).

Holy WMD, Batman!

If you haven't seen the photo on the cover of the New York Times today, check it out. It's very surreal. A couple of Iranian men dressed up in traditional garb standing in front of a mural of doves and holding a few vials of ... can you guess? Peace powder? No. Bottled sunshine? Un-unh. Milk? Nope. Oil? Not even.
Actually, it's enriched uranium (or so they claim). I just thought the image was very bizarre ... it could almost be postmodern kitsch if it wasn't so scary.

Man vs. Goose

Yesterday I was running through Wood Lake Nature Center and enjoying the unseasonably warm weather—80 degrees in April! I was startled to see, coming at me, another runner waving a giant walking stick over his head. He then threw the stick at a Canadian goose that was standing by the running path. The goose started freaking out and the guy began waving his arms and throwing rocks at the goose. I can't tell you how strange this was in the middle of the calm, idyllic nature center. Why does someone run in a NATURE CENTER if he's going to throw sticks and rocks at the NATURE? I was just standing there watching it and wondering who was the biggest threat: the man or the goose. "Can you please stop that?" I asked, trying not to further provoke. "No, I can't," he said, as he continued waving his arms. Finally he ran past the goose kicking rocks at it as he did. "Did it attack you?" I asked. "No, but one of them did yesterday. They're mean!" he answered and started running off. I stood there for a good five minutes trying to muster up the courage to run past this goose, which was now doing weird things with its beak, including opening and closing it as I came closer. I finally gave up and ran the other direction. I encountered another goose further down the path and it hissed at me, but that was it. Apparently geese get slightly aggressive when they're guarding their eggs. That, I suppose I can understand. Throwing rocks and a big stick at a goose? Seems a bit much.

It's Wyatt Time

Welcome to my blog. I hope you find it entertaining. Whoever you are. I was trying to think of something to call it, and I have to give at least partial credit to my husband for the final result, as he likes to make up words and mix cliches. Not that he specifically suggested this title, but I believe he did recently use the phrase "Life is like a bowl of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get." I'm sure it had something to do with our new house, which we just bought a few weeks ago.
It's near Wood Lake Nature Center in Richfield, MN, and it's got a lot of potential. Great hood with lots of trees, two fireplaces, nice deck and a family room. It also has two pink bathrooms, psychedelic striped carpet upstairs, a bit of a box elder problem, and other quirks that we're just discovering. We do have nice neighbors: the little girl next door even wrote "Welcome Home!" in chalk on our driveway as we were moving in, and Richfield's finest (think Barney Fife) stopped by as Matt was unloading the truck to assure us that they'd been keeping an eye on the place. People say "Hi!" when you pass them on the street, and a woman whose car broke down in front of our house even wrote us a note and rang our doorbell to assure us that it wouldn't be there for long. Thank goodness! Quite a change from New York, and even Uptown, where we'd probably assume she was casing our place and there was no real "stalled car."
Anyway, Matt's initial suggestion for my blog was "I'm Not Married to Eddie Murphy, But Neither Are You," which I liked, but it was too long. As for my reason for starting a blog: I'm a writer and what respectable writer these days doesn't have one?! Plus I can't be the only member of the Core Four without my own corner of the Internet! Puh-leez! I probably won't be able to rival Shannon with tales of social craziness, but I suspect our house and new abode in suburbia will provide ample fodder.

So far we've painted the bedroom (not quite as olive as it looks in the above photo, but a real improvement over the half-teal, half-white with fake headboard created by a triangle of wallpaper and chair rail that was there before). Next it's on to the pink bathroom. Matt initially threatened to build an outhouse rather than use a pink bathroom, but I think he's since realized that his manliness is strong enough to overcome its hue. Plus, tearing out the tiles would be a complete nightmare. Thanks to my dad for scraping the wallpaper glue. Happy Friday!