Indefinite Hiatus

This blog is on indefinite hiatus while I chronicle our adoption journey to bring home our child from Vietnam on my new blog: http://sincofffamily.blogspot.com/

Please feel free to stop by!

Vacation, all I ever wanted....

I apologize up front for the super-obvious title, but I had no choice.

It's been about 2 mos. since my last posting. This should suggest to you just how interesting my life has been in the past 9 weeks or so. I've been doing nothing but working and preparing for the holidays the entire time.

Thankfully all that mishegas is finally at an end and I am on day 5 of my 10 day vacation. I have sworn to spend as much of this vacation as possible in my PJs and slippers. I even went across the street to the cafe in my PJs and winter coat to get lunch yesterday. When I make a promise to myself, I keep it. For the most part, I'm just reading, knitting, and watching TV. I sorely needed to check out for a week and I'm making the most of it.

This weekend will be busy. Friday night we have dinner with our friends Ernie and Eleanor, Saturday is New Year's Eve and New Year's Day I promised to make traditional PA Dutch pork and sauerkraut for at least 6 people, supposing they're all still coming and aren't so hungover that the mere smell of the pungent dish will prevent them from partaking.

We haven't solidified our New Year's Eve plans just yet. We had thought about going to the event at the wine bar around the corner from us, but I'm having second thoughts. NYE falls during a time of the month when I shouldn't be drinking in the event that we might be pregnant. I know many would say that no time of the month is a good time when trying to conceive, but let a girl have a glass or two of pinot on her period for Christ's sweet sake. It's the only thing that keeps her sane and her husband out of harm's way.

Besides, $30/person is a lot of money if you're not knocking back the hooch. That's the charge from 8-11pm ($30 for hors d'oeuvres and open bar) at 11 it converts to a cash bar. Not a bad deal if you get there early, but from 11 on there's a $10 cover charge. WTF is that?? Cover charge AND cash bar? There's a wonderful liquor store that's part of the wine bar. I think we should just go there earlier in the day, by a few bottles of wine and a bottle of champagne and hole up in the apartment with lots of good snacks.

I hate going out on NYE. It's never as fun as you think it's going to be. You either get too drunk or not drunk enough and then you have to schlep home from wherever you are praying the whole way that some drunk asshole doesn't plow into you. Cuz that's when it'll happen, you know. Not after a great NYE party, but a sucky one--so the last thought in your head before the last of your blood flows onto the pavement is, "Dude, I KNEW I should've stayed in tonight. FUCK!!"

So far I'm enjoying my vacation. For the first time in about two months my neck and shoulders are relaxed and that annoying crease down the middle of my forehead has softened and all but disappeared. This not-working gig is pretty sweet. I'm still working on convincing Ethan that I should be a stay at home mom (he's all for the idea in general, just not sure that we can swing it financially right now). Not that being an SAHM isn't tons of work, but that period just before the little one pops out where I just get to put my feet up and relax and be pregnant sounds too, too fab. Working pregnant sucks ass.

That's it. I have nothing else to say. It's been a slow newsweek and my brain is on vacation along with the rest of my body. I just wanted to check in to let everyone know I'm not dead, just boring.

Talk soon,
V

We Had an Interesting Week....

For a change. As mentioned in my previous post, we went to see Weezer and Foo Fighters last Friday. I dug the show a little more than the ball and chain, but I happen to have insane, schoolgirl crushes on both Rivers Cuomo and Dave Grohl, so that's to be expected.

Weezer put on a great show with the perfect mix of old and new stuff. We think Rivers might be sporting a little bald spot on the back of his head, but it could have been a glare. Foos rocked my ass off. They had a spectacular light show complete with video screens that we couldn't see from our seats at the side of the stage, but I imagine it was really cool. Those in view of it seemed to enjoy it.

I have yet to download the new Foo Fighters album. My friend Tom burned the new Weezer for me a while back. I gave it one listen and immediately dismissed it. At first listen it's a really pussy sounding album. Fortunately, the guys were on Howard Stern the other day and Rivers gave an amazing interview.

I always assumed he was a tortured artist/control freak/diva like Billy Corgan, but he's actually a really down to earth, humble, even shy guy. Apparently he's been celibate the last 2 1/2 years and plans to remain so until he finds the right girl to marry. I'm pretty sure he used the "m" word. I was transfixed. And immediately began racking my brain for single girlfriends I could fix him up with through whom I could live vicariously. I forwarded his picture to my friend Chantel, whom I think would be a PERFECT match for Rivers by the way, but she dismissed him as a "total dork." I was crestfallen. I told her that what she said was blasphemy and that Rivers is beautiful and perfect and that she is wholly unworthy of his geek godliness. She has no idea what a testament it is to her person that I would even consider her as a potential mate for Rivers. What an ingrate!!

Anyhoo, back to the point--after the interview I decided to give the album another listen and now I really like it. Apart from Beverly Hills and We Are All on Drugs, the rest of the album is either Rivers apologizing for being a jerk in his past life (part of his whole self-improvement kick) or love songs about how he fucked up past relationships or how he would like his future relationships to be. It's actually really touching. If I hadn't heard the interview, I would have dismissed many of the lyrics as trite and, as I said before, pussy, but now I realize that they're completely open, honest and earnest. Some of the choruses are pretty weak, but the songs are still good enough that that's easily forgiven.

Speaking of my fellow Weezer fan, Tom, he and his wife Jamie just had their second daughter, Gwen, yesterday. She's gorgeous, as is her big sister, Evie. Congratulations to the proud parents!

I found out the good news last night when we got home from Sukkot dinner at a co-worker's house. It was my first time dining in a sukka. I really enjoyed the experience. My co-worker's family is much more observant than we are, so it was nice to get a peek inside an observant Jewish home. It makes me realize what slackers we've been this past year. We need to get back to temple soon. We're bad Jews.

Looking forward to the weekend. Saturday night is my friend Jen's pirate-themed Halloween party. Ethan and I haven't gone shopping for costumes yet. Hopefully we'll find something not too lame, especially if my best friend Kayly decides to have her pirate-themed birthday party after all. Then we won't have to go shopping again. I'm sure pirate costumes are harder to come by in December than October.

On the girth tip, I have officially lost 9.8 lbs. so far. I've finally lost enough that one of my co-workers commented on it today. I rock. That's my daily affirmation. I'm not getting cocky just yet. I've lost the equivalent of two bags of potatoes. That just leaves.....a shitload of potatoes to go. Best not to think about it in those terms. Then again, I'm German-Irish. How else am I supposed to think about it? Beer, perhaps--in which case I've lost almost 10 pints of Guinness or Franziskaner Hefe Weizen. That's more than I can drink in one night, so you KNOW it's a lot! ;)

Nighty night,
V

This Sucks

It has been raining for six straight days. The weather has us so depressed that we did nothing with our day off today save sleep until 2pm and watch bad tv.

We were up briefly around 8am to move the car so as not to get ticketed and walk the dogs and found ourselves watching Sidekicks until the end. We couldn't tear ourselves away. Six days of shitty weather has stripped us of all our motivation, taste, and will to live, apparently. Mostly, I just felt really sad for Jonathan Brandis. Imagine Sidekicks being your crowning achievement. No wonder he cashed in early, the poor bastard.

If this weather doesn't break soon, I may lose my shit. Enough is enough. Ethan expressed it most eloquently when he said, "Where the fuck are we? Manchester??" I can't hack this much longer. A blizzard would be a welcome change. Even the dogs are depressed. Lulu spent most of the day on the couch on her back with her head lolling over the side. I had to poke her periodically just to make sure she was still alive. Fred just looks cranky, which is his normal expression, but he looks exceptionally cranky the last few days.

If it rains throughout this weekend I just do not know what I'll do. I have to get out. I'm the original homeboday and I have cabin fever. We're going to see Weezer and Foo Fighters tomorrow night, so that will be some welcome excitement. After that, I have no idea.

Looking forward to the last weekend of the month. November 1st is our 2nd wedding anniversary and Ethan booked us a weekend at Kate Pierson's Lazy Meadow Motel up in the Catskills. We have room no. 7--the duplex! I'm so jazzed. I put him in charge of planning something for our anniversary and he came up with the idea all on his own (or so he says, so keep it to yourself if you had any input!!)! Hopefully we'll have nice weather by then.

No other news right now apart from my ever-decreasing girth! Ethan and I went back on Weight Watchers 3 weeks ago and we've both lost about 7 lbs. so far. Go us! We're doing the "Core" plan, which is sort of like South Beach, but not as strict and it's pretty easy to stick to so far. I had issues with the "Points" plan. It was too hard to keep track and I was always hungry. Wish us luck! My immediate short term goal is to get down to the weight I was before I got pregnant the first time before I get pregnant again. That's another 16 lbs. Eek. I have no idea how I put on so much weight in 2 years. Actually, I know exactly how I did it, but it's still quite shocking.

Off to spend a little QT with the man before beddy-bye.

Talk to ya later...
V

Try to Catch the Deluge in a Paper Cup...

After weeks and weeks of a virtual drought (broken up by the odd five-minute downpour), it is now raining like a goddamn motherfucker in Jersey City. It started before I woke and continues now. It's supposed to rain for the next...decade, I think? Something like that.

Normally on a day like this I would hole up with a good book or some knitting and not budge, but today we had many errands to run. First Ethan had to walk the dogs to the groomer, then we both walked to the dentist. From there I walked to the salon to pay an ungodly amount of money for a hairdo which was ruined the second I left the shop. Then we hightailed it home to do a quick clean job on the apartment before a 7:30 dinner date at Madame Claude's (a fabulous, cozy French bistro right here in JC) with our friend Mary and her friend Beth.

Now we're finally settled in for the evening with our friends John and Dina to watch boxing on Pay Per View. If it's still raining like this tomorrow, I'm not setting one tender tootsie outdoors. Hopefully I won't have to.

I hope there's not too much more of this crap before the cold weather sets in.

Nothing exciting to report, guys. Just wanted to check in so you know I'm still kicking.

On the baby front, my doc wants me to take my prenatal with an additional 400 mcg of folic acid for three months before we re-open the baby factory. So, come Chrismannukah, we'll be quite busy. Wish us luck!

XO
V

Awright already!

You know, when I sarted this blog, I was sure Ethan and I were going to be the only two people on the planet who read it, but I've recently received admonitions to update, so here goes. Don't say I never gave you anything.

I don't really feel like discussing the miscarriage at this point. There's not a whole lot to say. It was disappointing, it sucked, and I'm getting right back on the horse (Ethan's nickname for obvious reasons) as soon as the doctor gives me the go ahead. I will mention, however, that quite a few women including coworkers and family have come forward to share similar stories which I found incredibly touching. Although it's horrid to think anyone else has ever had to go through what we've been through the last two years, it's still comforting to know we're not alone.

On to Katrina--Unfortunately, there's not a whole lot I can say about it because every single comment or insight I had in the first day or two is already cliche'--"Why are they calling them REFUGEES??? They're Americans!! Why can't we get these people food and water??? This is America--not some third world country!!," etc. At first I felt very unoriginal, but then I came to the realization that it was a GOOD thing that thousands of people around the country and world were as outraged as me and for the exact same reasons and at the exact same people.

The attrocious conditions are terrible enough, but the media accounts of situational cannibalism and rape and murder among the victims completely floored me. I don't remember hearing of this sort of behavior during the aftermaths of earlier hurricanes, as devastating as they were. Then again, I don't think the damage was quite as extensive as this.

I look at the map and I get it that the affected area is huge, but it didn't sink in just how vast it was until I read a quote from Our National Shame Bush that the disaster area is larger than Great Britain! That sort of brought it home for me.

This is where I make my obligatory plea for any readers to donate whatever they can to the hurricane relief fund of their choice--assuming you haven't already. Thanks. Had to get that out of the way.

On a lighter note, the Hughes sisters of Rockville, MD and Bristol, UK are in NYC visiting. I haven't seen either of them since the wedding. Very good to see them again. They're always a hoot. Congratulations to Sue on her recent engagement and acquisition of a first class rock! And safe and happy travels to Sara as she embarks on her upcoming round-the-world trip.

I wish I had other news to report, or something else to bitch about, but it's been rather quiet around here lately. I'm enjoying that.

Having folks over to dinner tonight, so I need to: a) put pants on, b) go grocery shopping, and c) clean--roughly in that order.

Blog atcha later,
Vick

Pee Pee Stick Says "No"

That's the fourth time in a row. I'm still not despondent, but a little disappointed. We tried extra hard this time, if you catch my drift.

I even rubbed this Jamaican fertility idol that one of my coworkers brought in for another woman who's ttc. According to the coworker, the idol belongs to her mother and her mother swears that every woman who touches it becomes pregnant shortly thereafter. My coworker had to bring it into the office wrapped in towels for fear she might come in contact with it--she has no plans of making babies for a while. Maybe it will work its charms in the next cycle or two.

I wouldn't have been so disappointed, but the morning of the test I was snoozing while Ethan showered and I dreamt that it was positive. I dreamt that I took the test in the restroom of the Lebanon Valley Mall (Ethan and I were there with my folks this past weekend). I was so happy that I burst out of the ladies room and skipped the whole length of the mall waving my pee stick (with TWO pink lines, mind you) over my head and shouting to everyone within earshot that I was pregnant.

I was sure the dream was precognitive, but I soon learned otherwise. :( I know from being pregnant with Sam that when it's positive, that second line begins to appear either at the same time as the first or very shortly thereafter. After 1 1/2 minutes if there's only one dark pink line I've already tossed the stick in the trashcan. I always dig it out again after the 3 minute mark just to be absolutely sure, but I haven't been proven wrong yet.

I had been taking a daily multivitamin with a folic acid supplement for the first few months. I switched to prenatals from GNC, but they're 2 pills a day as well and I think they might make me nauseous when not taken with food. I'm going to schedule a preconception exam with my OB/GYN so I can get a prescription for the prenatals I was on before. I didn't have a problem with them, and they're only one pill a day. It's time to visit the girly doc for other reasons as well, so it's a good idea all around.

I'm also starting to worry that my job stress is affecting my fertility as well. The good news is that I shouldn't be nearly as busy by the end of this month, so hopefully that will no longer be an issue.

As disappointing as it is to find out I'm not pregnant for the 4th cycle in a row, the only thing to do is to get right back on the horse--or the nearest Jewish male. If you're reading this, Kayly, my next window starts just in time for your visit for the Mermaid Parade! I know you're jazzed about that!! We'll be extra quiet. Promise! :)

Nighty night. Must spend some QT with the cutie.

V

Stuff That Happened

Good Morning, Kids. It's 3:00 am in Jersey City. Normally I would be sound asleep, but we just got home a little while ago from the wedding of our friends Rachel and Ed Derbes and we're still a little wired.

It was a beautiful, fancy-shmancy shindig at the Yale Club in Manhattan. Rachel looked gorgeous as did her mother. Ed and Rachel's father were handsome devils in their tuxes. We had a wonderful time.

The handsomest devil of all, of course, was none other than Mr. E, himself. That boy wears the hell out of a tux, let me tell you. I wore an emerald green satin halter dress with a matching green vintage-ish brooch. I must say I looked none too shabby myself. I got quite a few compliments on the dress. If only they knew I'd bought it at the mall at the slutty-clothes-for-fat-chix store! HA! It's not slutty, however. Very tasteful 40s glam-ish. Slightly vampish perhaps, but definitely not whorish :).

One cute little hippy girl told me she liked it because it reminded her of something Bjork once wore and she LOVES Bjork. I had mental flashes of the swan dress, but took it as a compliment nonetheless.

Thursday night we went to see Mike Doughty at Bowery Ballroom. Sold out show. Just him and his keyboardist. Fucking awesome. He signed copies of his new CD--Haughty Melodic-- after the show. When I got up to him all I could say was "Hi." He said "Hi!" really enthusiastically like he was waiting for me to engage him in conversation, but I was muted by my admiration for him. I completely geeked out. It was awkward. Ethan stepped in to save the day and exchanged a few words with him. I am indebted. Next show I'll bring my copy of Slanky (his book of poems) along with me so he can sign it and I'll force myself to say something to him.

To be fair, I was next in line to this chick he obviously knew who had him sign her boobs. How do you follow that? We found out on his blog the next day that this was the chick to whom he'd lost the big V some 18 years ago. Jesus..if I'd known THAT I wouldn't have even managed to say hi! Still, I felt like a huge dork, but at least I have a signed copy of the album which is wonderful. "Unsingable Name" is really one of the most beautiful songs I've heard in a very long time. It's been stuck in my head all day. And "Busting Up A Starbucks" just solidly rocks.

If you're not familiar with Mike, check out his website www.superspecialquestions.com. His blog is well worth reading and you can listen to music from his two previous solo efforts and fall in love with him as hard as I did.

Next Thursday we're going to see Weezer. I still don't have the new album, but I'm totally jazzed to see them. I've never seen them live. They'd better rock my ass HARD and not disappoint. Rivers Cuomo is a Geek Rock GOD! He'd better live up to my expectations. Then again, girls, when has any man every lived up to our expectations really? What's that? Nevery, you say? Fuckin' A.

I should really watch my potty mouth. I could be someone's mommy right now, for all I know. We'll find out on the 12th. Wish us luck! I've noticed that ever since I was pregnant the first time, Ethan is more sensitive to my potty mouth. He never seemed to mind it before I was the mother of his child. Now he chides me and says it's "unladylike." I never claimed to be a lady. I'm more of a dame. Or maybe a moll, but not a lady.

I'm off to fall asleep with my head in Ethan's lap while he watches grown men pummel each other. Heaven!

V

Fuck Spring

I used to love spring. I tend to favor the milder seasons. I dig all the spring cliches: birds, flowers, sunshine. I live for that first day it's warm enough to wear flip flops or eat outdoors or sit in Washington Square Park and watch the freaks emerge half naked from wherever it is they hibernate all winter long.

This spring, however, has been miserable. Between the rain and pollen count, I've had a sinus headache for nigh on 6 weeks. There have only been a handful of genuinely nice days so far and they're invariably weekdays. I recall one or two nice Sundays (this last was one), but the weekends have been largely overcast and damp.

I'm convinced I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, so I look forward to spring as a time of renewed energy and increased serotonin levels. I got so robbed, man. Fuck spring, and fuck mother nature.

Unless, of course, this is all part of her plan to get me knocked up. The boy and I weren't too diligent the last two cycles, only taking advantage of about 3 days out of the six day window both times. All the lackluster weather this cycle has given us reason to stay indoors and focus on the task at hand. And we've been focusing daily, lemme tell ya. Hopefully this will be the month. I won't be crushed if it isn't--only 25% of couples conceive in the first 3 months.

As Ethan mentioned on his blog, this past Saturday was Sam's yahrzeit. He passed away April 12th last year or the 21st of Nissan on the Hebrew calendar--a fact that makes trying to conceive this cycle that much more bittersweet for all the obvious reasons. Suffice it to say, I hope he knows we love him, we're not trying to replace him, and it's his fault we want so damn much to be parents again.

On that note, I'll sign off. I'll check back in after the next pee-stick test, at the very least.

V

Pressure

So, we are on the final day of what is supposedly my "fertile window" for this cycle. (I know I promised not to get too specific about personal matters, but humor me for the sake of humor, kids.) In the past six days Ethan has been out of the country (read: Not putting out the baby juice) THREE of those days. We've "attempted to create life," to put it very nicely, exactly three times in those 6 days and yet last night he claimed he was already feeling pressure to perform. This from the man who, when we're not attempting to procreate, claims we'd engage in that particular activity daily if it were up to him. Typical male bullshit!!

I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, CHRIST, it's not like I'm asking for the moon here. Just sex every other day for a six day period to make sure there's a constant supply of viable sperm in the ol' uterus. In the end, faithful readers, he cowboyed up and did his husbandly duty, so no harm no foul. Big up, Ethan! Go on with your virile self! And I didn't have to ask, beg or give him a roofie--he actually initiated. What was all the hubbub about?

Anyhoo, March 19th is official "pee stick" day. We'll see if we were successful in our endeavors on that date. Off to spend some QT with my stud mule.

Nighty Night,
V

Just a small observation...

Have you seen the recent Budweiser ads where they show the original 1936 can design they're bringing back for a limited time? I was mortified. That design couldn't look more Nazi-esque if they put a smiling Hitler and an emaciated Jew on the can. They should just show stock footage of Hitler at the '36 Olympics and superimpose a Bud in his hand when he gives the old "Sieg Heil."

Stay tuned for the 3 crummy pics I managed to get of The Gates this past Saturday before I DROPPED MY GODDAMN DIGITAL CAMERA AND BROKE THE SHIT OUT OF IT. I'm such a fucking loser...

Vickster

Mommy & Daddy Dance

As usual, my friends, not a hell of a lot has happened in the Sincoff universe in the past 6 weeks or so. Only two highlights to mention, and only one of them significant.

On Saturday, February 12th, Mr. E and I went for a couples massage at the lovely Oasis on Park Day Spa in Manhattan. It was a two hour indulgence with the first hour being instructional and the second a straight-up massage. Ethan has finally learned how to rub my shoulders without making me scream in agony. $300 well spent, I'd say.

That following Thursday we met with our genetic counselor and learned that it's very unlikely that any future children will have the same health problems Sam had. We were planning on trying again this year, but after that good news we're anxious to start right away.

I immediately went to babycenter.com and used their ovulation calculator to figure out my "fertile days" for the rest of the calendar year. Needless to say, we won't be available for socializing from March 5th thru the 10th. And, in the event we don't knock one out of the park on our first at bat, we also won't be receiving visitors from April 2nd thru the 7th.

I'm interested to see how long it takes us to get pregnant when we're trying. Considering the circumstances of the last time, it should be pretty fast. Ethan's got that super-tenacious Jew sperm--those kids didn't survive almost 6,000 years of oppression, genocide, natural AND deity-wrought disasters by chance, ya know. It's somethin' in the genes, baby.

Readers should be forewarned that this will most likely be, from here on out, a conception/pregnancy blog. I will not go into disgustingly graphic details, however. Have no fear of that. No detailed discussions of the consistency of my vaginal mucus or how many times the hubby and I copulated or in what positions. I'm sure my postings will be more psychological and emotional in nature.

So, in my first official pre-conception post let me just say that I'm very excited about the next few months. I'm looking forward to (mush alert, kids) the experience of making love to another person with the intention of creating a baby. Never done that one! I'm looking forward to the moment when we finally see those two pink lines on the pee-pee stick and everything in between. I'm even looking forward to the emotional support and coddling I'll get from Ethan in the event the test is negative and we have to do it all over again the next month.

We'll see how this goes. I'm not 100% sure how comfortable I am putting such personal stuff out there, but I'll give it my best shot. And it's not like there are more than, say, TWO of you who ever read this anyway, and you'd be the two people I'd be telling all this to regardless.

I couldn't sign off without a reference to the pets, so humor me one short Fred story, because this is too darling not to share. I had a miserable stomach virus from this past Saturday thru Tuesday. Monday night I was lying on the couch watching TV, my stomach feeling like it had been stomped by an elephant. Just then Fred jumps up on the couch with his toy monkey in his mouth, places it on my pillow and then curls up and goes to sleep by my knees. I assumed he wanted to play, but he showed no interest. I really think he gave me Monkey to make me feel better. What else could one possibly infer? Pets are far more intuitive than people give them credit for. Freddie Sincoff is the handsomest dog and sweetest boy in the whole wide world--and he loves his mama :).

V

Ethan's bugging me to update again, so I decided to appease him. As usual, not much has happened since I last checked in. Well, a few things happened, but nothing earthshattering.

Ethan's phat neighborhoodie finally arrived. It is baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadass, if I do say so myself. I intend to photograph him in it for their photo gallery and will post the picture here when I do. Check out the site if you haven't before. The merchandise is top notch and the staff are very friendly--I got a handwritten, hipster thank you for my order included in the box. It's little touches like that that will make my buy from them again.

As E mentioned on his blog, we've been on a health kick for the past week and a half. In our defense, we started right after Xmas unlike all these schmucks with their well-meaning New Year's resolutions. We've finally gotten a clue and realized that the only real, permanent way to lose weight is to eat less and exercise more. Not that we ate like hungry, hungry hippos before, but we were certainly as lethargic as the aforementioned beasts. It's going well so far--we've both lost about 2 1/2 lbs. Go, go Superjews!

It's a cold, rainy day in JC, but thanks to my new diet, exercise regimen and annoyingly positive outlook on life, I'm actually looking forward to going out tonight. We're meeting friends at the Film Forum in the Village to see "Hitler's Hit Parade"--sort of a montage of German pop culture from the Nazi era including home movies of der Fuehrer shot by civilians, anti-semitic cartoons, the whole megillah as my adopted people would say. I'm very jazzed. Jazzed for the movie, jazzed to be going into the city for the first time in about 2 weeks, jazzed to see people with whom I neither live nor work. I'm just super stoked, obviously. Can you tell?

I just scrolled up to re-read what I'd written so far and was sort of struck by the "nothing earthshattering" comment. Obviously I'm referring to my own life there, and not the horrible and ongoing tragedy in East Asia. Not to get heavy here, but please consider donating to the charity of your choice to help out. Good hearted Americans have donated over $3 billion so far. I like to think that the bulk of that $3 billion came from lefties who were mortified by Bush's initial stinginess, but I'm sure just as many people on the right dug deep as well, and for that I thank them. Once again, a horrible tragedy seems to be the only thing that can bring these two warring factions together. Fucking beautiful.

Ethan's cleaning the kitchen all by himself and I feel like I should be helping out, so I'll sign off for now.

(This post is dedicated to the memory of Jerry Orbach, Law and Order's beloved Det. Lennie Briscoe).

V

I'm so goddamn boring...

I haven't had a SINGLE exciting or interesting thing to post to this blog in 45 days. I was too emotionally distraught after the election to say anything coherent about it, so I chose not to. Other than that, I've been so busy at work that I'm too tired to even look at the computer when I get home, so I don't read nearly as much news as I used to and therefore am not able to comment on current events in any meaningful way.

Ethan's been hounding me to update this blog, but I honestly have had bugger all to say. Before I started this blog, I was of a mind that regular people shouldn't have them. Who wants to read their mundane, banal bullshit? Four months later I still feel that way, but I'm not a quitter so I have to stick with it out of spite.

Obviously not blogging, I've been spending my time doing things I genuinely enjoy: reading, snuggling on the couch with Ethan and the dogs, cooking. I love winter because I can enjoy those things without feeling guilty about not going out more. It's like winter gives us a meteorological excuse to be a hermit.

If it were up to me, people would hibernate in winter. I really have no desire to go out from around mid-December to mid-March. I don't think it's SAD (as in Seasonal Affective Disorder, not pitiful), because I'm really happy being indoors. I'm not moping, I have a blast! And it seems completely natural to me, because by the time spring rolls around I've had enough solitude and can't wait to get outdoors again, allergies be damned.

Unfortunately, I'm married to a very social type who goes stir crazy if we stay in even three nights in a row. He literally gets "antsy." Okay, so not literally, because that would mean he had actual ants in his pants and I never, ever want to witness that. He gets squeamish and girly at the sight of one bug. I can't imagine if he were crawling with hundreds of them. In his defense, he's very manly in a lot of ways, too :).

So I do have ONE interesting thing to report. Last night we went into the city for dinner and a movie with Susannah (That's not the interesting thing). After the film we went to Veselka on 9th and 2nd Ave. for coffee and dessert. Halfway through my carrot cake I look to my left (we had a killer table right next to the restrooms...yak!) and there's Rufus Wainwright coming out of the loo (That's the interesting part). I had to look at him a second until my brain figured out if he was someone I went to school with, a friend of a friend or a celebrity, but the penny finally dropped and I realized it was him. I'm a big fan. I didn't talk to him. I'm not a celebrity approacher. I can't make an ass out of myself like that.

That made my night. It was like God had decided to reward me for getting my fat ass off the couch for a change. I love New York.

I'm off for some husband and canine snuggles. Take care and I promise to check in more often. Matter of fact, I just might make that my New Year's Resolution along with drinking 8 glasses of water a day and cleaning once a week and paying bills on time, and....ha ha ha! I kill myself.

Love,
Veekee

Oops, almost forgot...

Let me not retire from blogging for the evening without taking this opportunity to address my husband of 366 days directly:

Ethan,

Despite all the shitty, shitty, shitty things that happened to us this year, I'm still insanely glad that I married you and loopy in love. You're still the funniest, most interesting, sharp-tongued sonofabitch I have ever met. In a year full of heartache and tough breaks, it was comforting to know that our relationship was the one thing I never had to worry about. Here's hoping 2005 is a little easier on us--and that we're a little easier on ourselves and each other.

Happy anniversary, bubbe.

XOXOXOXOXOX

V

32 Days to a New America...

or the end of the world. After tonight's debate, the former doesn't seem so impossible.

It's very late and I'm very tired. Been working hard at the new job, so I haven't had the time or energy to post my daily political diatribes to this here blog o' mine, but I just had to say how impressed I was with Kerry tonight. He was concise, clear and to the point. I especially liked how he mimicked Bush's strategy of staying on message and reiterating the key points he wanted to get out to the american people tonight.

I daresay he was even better than the president at this tactic. He was able to skillfully weave his talking points into the question at hand whereas Bush seemed to invoke his when he couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer, whether his particular mantra of choice made sense in context or not.

And despite the Repubs downplaying Bush's debating abilities and playing up Kerry's in the hopes that Bush would appear successful so long as he didn't make a complete ass of himself, I think he still came out looking like he hasn't the slightest clue what he's talking about. He sounded like a trained parrot, frankly.

Let's just hope the remaining debates go as well for Johnny Boy as this one tonight.

Big ups to Jon Stewart (my other Jewish boyfriend--the other being Marc Maron) for not being a pussy while interviewing Giuliani and actually calling him on that bullshit statement of his about Kerry flip flopping on whether or not Saddam was a threat. He's such a fucking whore. The only way his post-debate commentary could have possibly been more vile would be if he were actually wiping W's seed off his chin while he was talking to Tom Brokaw.

Okay, that was a little too vicious even for me. I'd best be off to bed.

Take care, kiddies.

XO

Thank God for low centers of gravity. Sometimes being short has its perks. Susannah, Ethan and I defying hurricane-like winds to complete the 2004 Walk for PKD on 9/18/04.  

Neither Rain Nor Sleet...

This past Saturday was not the most ideal day to schlep around Liberty State Park with the remains of hurricane Frances or Ivan or whichever wreaking havoc on the weather, but we managed to complete the 5k Walk for PKD nonetheless. Fear not, generous donors--your contributions did not go to waste. In fact, the NJ chapter more than raised its goal of $42,000, making the walk a complete and utter success. We were all glad to be a part of it!

We woke up at 8:00 am to heavy rains and flooding, but, thankfully, the skies cleared in time for the actual walk. The wind, however, was another story. For the first 2.5k it was our friend, pushing us along our way. The way back was brutal. I felt like a mime, except with real wind. So I guess that's not really miming, but you get my meaning...

Who knew walking 5k was such a workout? We were useless the rest of the day, relaxing and watching movies. Sunday we slept until 3:00 pm, did laundry and then visited the Shingletons for a bit.

My first two days at the new job have gone relatively smoothly. Right now I'm in charge of booking CME presentations on Stress Urinary Incontinence (check out the "clinical tools" on www.stressui.org for a good giggle. I highly recommend the pelvic floor muscle assessment and physical exam tipsheet--I can laugh, I've had Stress UI). I have 4 all but booked out of 9. Apparently I'm doing better than my two counterparts working on the same project, so I may need to reign it in so as to a) not piss them off and b) keep my bosses from expecting so much effort on a regular basis. At least I know I'm making a decent impression.

I barely have a cube. Since I'm on the end I have no back wall, so my back is completely exposed. I hate that. I have a Wild Bill Hickock complex, I always like to have my back to a wall so I can survey the entire room. I feel unprotected. I also startle easily, so maybe they'll move me to a better cube after 2 or 3 occurrences of someone coming up behind me and me screaming "JESUS!!!!" at the top of my lungs.

In other news: This Friday at sundown begins Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement and (sigh...) fasting. We'll see how good we do on the second half of that--the atoning we have down pat. It's the not-stuffing-our-faces-for-24-hours that needs some work.

I'm off to bed. The only reason I'm still up this late is because I passed out on the couch from 8:30-11:00 pm. Getting up an extra half hour early really f's up your whole groove, man.

Good Yuntiff!

Technically, Rosh Hashanah ended at sundown, but l'shanah tovah to any readers of the Jewish persuasion.

Tonight we went to Ethan's Uncle Joe and Aunt Eileen's in Brooklyn for Rosh Hashanah dinner. There were about 16 Jews gossiping and stuffing their faces with gefilte fish (I tried it for the first time ever. Not a fan, frankly), brisket, turkey, kasha varnishkas, potatoes, etc. etc. We had a blast. It was my first opportunity to see how a normal(ish) Reform Jewish family spends the holidays so I know what to do when we have our own family. I'll be leaving out the gefilte fish, however.

As Ethan mentioned on his blog, we were at their house on Tuesday as well--which was another first for me, my first live boxing match. I was excited to go as we're all big fans of the main eventer Dimitriy "Star of David" Salita. He's an up and coming Jewish boxer. Cute kid originally from Odessa, Ukraine now fighting out of Brooklyn. As Ethan says, he's a great technical fighter, but it's difficult to tell if he has any power punches.

I love watching him because, as an observant orthodox Jew, he often comes out to the ring with his spiritual advisor/rabbi with stars of David containing his initials emblazoned on his robe and trunks. This night the rabbi didn't accompany him to the ring, but in his stead were what can only be called a "hardcore klezmer band." Maybe even "hardcore surf klezmer." Imagine Korn, The Beach Boys and The Klezmatics rolled into one. He really likes to push the Jewish angle. It amuses me greatly. If you go to his website, www.dsalita.com, and go to the photo gallery, among the photos of him training and beating the crap out of his opponents, there's one of him in his prayer shawl strapping on his tefillin.

I must say that watching boxing live is a lot different than watching on TV. Watching on TV gives you that extra layer of detachment that keeps you from really being affected by the violence happening in the ring. I was actually a little squeamish at first, witnessing it live. One of the Irish brothers who fought, whom Ethan mentioned on his post, was knocked out cold by a Puerto Rican fighter. I missed the punch, but when I turned back to the ring he was lying face down and his legs were twitching. For one second I was afraid he'd be a vegetable and I'd be traumatized for life--never being able to watch boxing ever again. Alas, he was ok.

As E also mentioned, this took place in very Russian Brighton Beach. Salita Being Ukrainian and Jewish, there were tons of Russians and Jews (and Russian Jews, I'm sure) in the audience. They were all rabid fans--they have their own cheers and everything. I was shocked to see so many orthodox (and I'm talking ORTHODOX, not this modern orthodox or metrodox bullshit) Jews were there. I thought the orthodox were strictly opposed to violence. I guess I was wrong. Maybe that's just the Chasidim. Or maybe there's some technical reason that it's ok that Dimitriy boxes that makes it ok for other orthodox Jews to watch. I have no idea.

Anyhoo, I'm sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy. Will write more when I actually have something interesting to say.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Sincoff...

I've been too busy to post the last week, but had to take a second today to say Happy Birthday to my dearest husband! He is 34 VERY SEXY years old today.

I've been telling him that all week, but he didn't believe me until his 32 year old best friend's 23 year old babe of a girlfriend said, "Ethan, you're looking JACKED!" Now his already huge pumpkinhead is even more inflated. Thanks, Kate--you bought me at least a day or two of not having to listen to him groan about his weight or how old he is! Why he doesn't believe his own wife is beyond me, however.

Anyhoo, happiest of birthdays, toots! Many thanks to your parents for having sex 34 years and 7 mos. ago. Where would I be if they hadn't??? I'd probably still be a single gentile living in DC. Perish the thought...