Monthly Archive for January, 2008

What Happens In New Jersey, (Sort Of) Stays In New Jersey

Let me just preface this set of photos by saying that, (1) you should never get too drunk at a wedding; (2) in this age of digital photography, everything is forever; (3) it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Jay tasked me to go through my harddrive and sort out all my shi-ite after what happened the last time when I lost like a billion images.

Hence I ended up looking over some very, very old photos. And came across this set of, ahem, portraits taken at a wedding in New Jersey.

Some alcohol may have been consumed by this time. The white nets around our ears were previously used to hold lemons for our steaks. Don’t ask me how it started.

I, er, will not be naming anyone in these photos.

Because I don’t remember half of them, and I’m hoping the other half remains my friends.

If you’re wondering why we have the same stare…I think we were told where to look. Or maybe we were all just equally buzzed.

Published by dorothyho on January 31, 2008 in Musings and Photography. 1 Comment

Does Anyone Buy Film Anymore?

Jay likes to call me a purist when it comes to photography.

Sure I have digital cameras and sure, I understand that it’s a fact of life for many photographers out there to get the decisive moment and upload it before anyone else, but there is something to be said about film.

The color’s different, the texture’s different, and best of all, none of that Photoshopping that drives me nuts.

As with anyone who owns 20 and some cameras, it is a hard choice to decide which one to take to the hospital. I want to take at least three Ã¢â‚¬â€ my digital Lumix, my Lomo, and my Nikon 35 Ti Ã¢â‚¬â€ hence the very dusty box of film I got from the store today.

See, the problem is, I know exactly how I want to photograph the event. But unfortunately, I am the event.

I will be indisposed.

I suspect Jay will be indisposed as I will be squeezing the living daylights out of his hands.

Question. Can a woman push AND shoot at the same time?

Published by dorothyho on January 30, 2008 in Musings. 6 Comments

Every Day Is A Birthday

What is a dessert but a hug to yourself?

After dinner tonight, I decided I wanted a chocolate cake.

Not a slice of chocolate cake.

A chocolate cake.

There, I said it. And behold, we had a chocolate cake.

As we stood in front of a million cake choices at Whole Foods, I told Jay we could consider the purchase an early birthday celebration.

“Every day should be your birthday,” I said.

“I just like how you said that with such conviction,” he replied.

“Why not? Isn’t that what a dessert is? Every time we have dessert, we are giving ourselves a hug and saying, ‘Happy Birthday to me!’”

And so, like a strung out cake-oholic, I started singing “Happy Birthday To Me” loudly in the car as we transported the cake home. Jay joined me. It was a good birthday.

You there!

Yes, you.

You look like you need a hug.

You know what to do.

Published by dorothyho on January 28, 2008 in Musings. 3 Comments

People. I Am Hallucinating. I Must Be.

The things you find on Wikipedia.

This is.

A burger.

Between two Krispy Kremes.

Let me say that one more time.

This is.

A burger.

Between two Krispy Kremes.

Amen.

Published by dorothyho on January 24, 2008 in Musings. 5 Comments

Frost Is Not Cool

Da cold, da cold!

Who knew it got so cold in Seattle?

My poor Beetle has been frosted over most mornings as temps have dropped below zero.

Because I am too cheap to buy an actual ice scraper, I have variously used credit cards, plastic thingamagigs, random other stationery items to do the very thing they were never intended to be used for.

Scraping ice off a car.

And every time I spend 15 minutes in the freezing cold desperately scraping ice off my car with non-ice-scraping tools with the above sorry results, I tell myself, “Dot, you really need to buy a goddamn ice scraper, okay?”

And every time I tell myself that, I immediately think, “Who needs a Special Tool for this? I can make do with this ‘fill in the blank‘ just one more time.”

That’s exactly what I tell myself every time I scoop ice-cream with a teaspoon.

Published by dorothyho on January 23, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

My Other Car Is A Tricycle

I haven’t been in a Toys ‘R Us since, er, since I was 12?

Maybe. I can’t remember if there was a Toys ‘R Us in Singapore when I was growing up.

Now that I’m utterly baby crazed, we had to visit a nearby Toys ‘R Us/Babies ‘R Us when I determined that we did not have the all-important BABY WIPES to prepare us for the 100 diapers we will change a week when Mini DJ is here.

It’s been a while, folks, so it was a thoroughly surreal experience.

Toy-makers must believe children can only see two colors in their lifetime. Why else would all girly stuff be pink and the boy stuff be blue?

Enter the “Barbie Escalade SUV.”

I don’t like EscaladesÃ¢â‚¬â€they look obnoxious and ugly on the roadsÃ¢â‚¬â€so to see it miniaturized and pinkified was horrifying.

The good people at Fisher-Price didn’t think so. They wanted $350 for it.

Is this what my future holds? Saying “No” to a wailing girl in front of a pink abomination?

Published by dorothyho on January 21, 2008 in Musings. 8 Comments

A Triptych Of Doubles

White Beetles Rule!

The flower really ties everything together.

Parker’s mousepad in Design Commission.

Published by dorothyho on January 17, 2008 in Musings and Photography. 0 Comments

When. Will. It. Deflate.

Admit it, you love a good balloon.

Who doesn’t?

I got this Hello Kitty gem at the baby shower last weekend. That’s like five days ago. And it’s still in the air.

I remember the days of the Cheap Ass Shopping Mall Balloons they used to hand out to kids. I was so giddy with happiness that my palms got sweaty because I was deathly afraid of letting go and losing it. In fact, I always made my parents tie it tightly around my wrist, and I would STILL maintain a vice-like grip on the string.

Those balloons were guaranteed to start deflating the minute I got home.

Each passing day was marked by an ever-shrinking and sinking balloon that broke my six-year-old heart just a little bit more.

I don’t know what they put in these modern balloons for that staying power, but it’s going to be a race against time to see which of us huge puffy things deflates first.

I’m going to bet Me.

Published by dorothyho on January 16, 2008 in Musings. 3 Comments

Ask Not What Your Man Can Do For You

Do not judge your man by how big the diamond ring is.

Do not judge your man by his ability to remember all the anniversaries. (Who can?)

Do not judge your man by the number of roses in that Valentine bouquet.

If you really want to know, do judge your man by how far he will go to do something he ab-so-lute-ly hates, but you love. Just LOVE.

Enter The Epic of Jay and The Musical.

In our first year or two together, for his birthday, I bought Jay tickets to see The Producers on Broadway, when we still lived in New York City. At the time, I didn’t realize he didn’t watch musicals with similar (or any) fervor like me. But still, he politely enjoyed it and that was that.

Fast forward to Seattle. Three years ago.

I bought us tickets to watch The Sound of Music.

Jay went to the show.

He didn’t say much during the show except that the seats were a little uncomfortable.

And last year, I got free tickets to watch Spelling Bee. Jay gamely went along.

At some point, I believe he said, “I don’t think I want to watch musicals anymore.”

These days, I know better than to ask Jay to any musical. I am grateful he endured three musicals for me because I realize now how difficult that was for him.

It would be like asking me to watch Giant Power Tools breakdance to Notorious B.I.G while a Chorus Line of Workmen welded Steel Structures behind them.

Published by dorothyho on January 14, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

Jay Sucks Better Than Me

Where there’s Krispy Kreme, there’s, well, there’s Dot.

More specifically, there’s Dot and a whole bunch of people coming together to “babyshower.” (Is that a verb too?)

It appears that wishing ALOUD makes your wishes come trueÃ¢â‚¬â€as this donut tower attests toÃ¢â‚¬â€so I’d like to officially wish ALOUD that a million dollars appear in my Beetle’s boot tomorrow.

Donuts were eaten, drinks were served, and presents were opened. Lots of them. Thank you, all!

Here, Jay and I are battling for naming rights for the baby. I call it the “Who Sucks More” game.

If you finish your apple juice first, you get to name the baby.

Unfortunately, the bottle’s nipple had a tiny pin prick so it was the longest 10 minutes of my life. I lost. To Jay.

That means the baby’s going to be named Home Depot.

But I take heart in the fact that I can say Jay sucks more than me.

And of course no baby shower is complete without the “Guess What The Hell That Is In Your Baby’s Diaper” game.

Kerri and Dave kindly melted indistinguishable and highly realistic (People, it was warm) brown “poo” into diapers and the person who guessed what candy was used won a prize. I think it was more candy. Specifically candy that the poo was made of.

Ninety-five-year-old Grandpa Gene looked confused and a little horrified as the diaper was passed to him and the rules explained.

For the record, it was his first baby shower. Ever.