Alien Spouse

Silent Laughter.

How is this child not laughing yet?

Look at those expressions, damn it, obviously I was being HILARIOUS at this point - but still no audible laughter.  Evalyn Alice is a tough crowd.

Still, I did get some very nice photos of Eva, in fact I posted this one on Doc C's Facebook wall and he called me from work to say how lovely he thought it was.  The next time we spoke he said he had just kept opening Facebook to look at it, and wanted a framed copy of it.  I laughed and asked if that would be going on his desk next to our wedding photo.  Doc was like "Yes.  What of it!?!"

I suspect he quite likes being a dad.

 

Tummy Button.

Ok fine.  I'm smitten by this kid, but I can't help it! She's just ridiculously sweet in a number of ways that I wasn't expecting. A good example of this would be her tummy; how cute is this tummy button?   I didn't know tummy buttons came in a perfect swirl like that! It's adorable, damn it!

Also pictured here is the top of her nappy (American Translation : Diaper), we are really happy with the cloth nappies and the delivery service we use is great, so the whole thing is incredibly simple and convinient.  Of course the most important thing is that Eva seems very comfortable and, when Doc C decided to use the last of the disposable nappies we had left over from the hospital, she actually seemed quite unhappy about the disposable nappy.  Doc C told her she was being ideological, but that didn't appear to sway her opinion and she wouldn't settle down until he put a cloth nappy on her instead.

Questions and Answers.

We went back to the NCDMV today to re-submit my (totally fine and not at all expired) immigration papers, and that seemed to go smoothly.  Of course, it seemed to go smoothly last time as well, but the examiner this time was aware that it had already been messed up once so he got a colleague to come and double-check his work before submitting it.  He also apologised for the inconvenience and thanked me for my patience; I said it was just one of those things, so it didn't seem worth getting het up about, but, if it made better material for teasing the other guy, that he should say I totally flipped out about it.

I have to say I wasn't best pleased about having my photo taken again today, because I didn't bother to put any make-up on this morning.  So the photo is bound to be even worse than the last one. Oh well, these things are not meant to be flattering are they?

On the way back we stopped to get some Krispy Kreme Doughnuts.  It always takes me slightly longer to make a decision than Doc C so he ordered his first, then the lady behind the counter turned to me and asked "And you?  What are you having?" To which Doc C chirpily replied "It's a girl!" to her evident confusion, because she couldn't actually see my bump over the counter and meant what doughnut did I want.  Hilarity ensued, and I don't think I stopped giggling to myself for the next hour.

Doc C is on a hair-trigger as far as questions about the baby go, clearly!

Light Bruises.

This morning I had laser treatment on the scars from my mole removals this summer, the worst part about it was having to get to the dermatologist's office for 7 in the morning - The treatment itself took about five minutes and wasn't too painful. The doctor described it as being flicked with a rubber band repeatedly, and that's fairly accurate. Apparently the scars will be darker for about a week, because the laser bruises the area but then, once the bruising goes down, the scars should be less visible and less sensitive. Yay!

Afterwards Doc C asked what colour the laser was, and I said red; Doc said "Oh no!", because this must mean that my dermatologist is a Sith Lord. Once again I am reminded that I married an intelligent and articulate man who, none the less, remains totally unable to pass up an opportunity for a Star Wars reference.

Rose-Coloured Spectacles.

I have been most remiss in sharing my new specs with you - Mainly because I haven't worn any make-up in the past couple of weeks, and these do look particularly good with a nice bit of eyeliner. Today I decided to just snap a photo and then edit the hell out of it in Picnik; which is why the frames are pin-sharp and the rest of the image is super soft-focus! Pores? My skin doesn't have pores!

As you can see the new glasses are slightly cat's eye, which Doc C thinks brings out my cheekbones (love that man), and they have a tiger grey exterior with a clear pink interior. That sounds like a car, but you see what I mean right? The outside of the frame is one colour (well, it's sort of marbled really) whilst the inside is another; so there are hints of that inside colour as I move my head and the angle changes.

As you can see here:

Again with the Picnik soft-focus, which I am especially grateful for here. It took me forever to get the angle right on this one, so you could see more of the edge of the glasses and less of the bags under my eyes - I didn't sleep very well last night.

Please feel free to reassure me that these are stylishly fun, without being wacky. I'm still a touch self-conscious about them.

First Friday of 2012.

Doc C was sure that today was Thursday, he was quite surprised when I said I was Friday. In fact he almost convinced me that I was wrong, but I stuck to my convictions and you can all thank me for insisting we have a weekend now.

For dinner I made Macaroni Peas from the Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's Veg book. It's a very simple recipe, just peas, parmesan, macaroni, butter and garlic, so I'm not convinced it really requires two sauce pans, a fryin pan and a blender to make. I feel sure there are some tweaks to be made to reduce the washing up.

The Week in Review.

The Good : Doc C is having the best week ever, professionally speaking, and has got papers accepted by two of the top journals in his field. My husband is a philosophical rock star.

The Bad : Nancy Wake-Cat was named after the WWII heroine Nancy Wake, and I was very sorry to read about her death at 98 this week. The White Mouse was an incredible woman. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/aug/08/nancy-wake-white-mouse-gestapo)

The Ugly : Following my minor surgery for further mole removal I've posted a photo of my potential scars on Flickr! Yay!

Seriously. She is Obsessed.

Doc called TiVo this evening to open our own account for the TiVo box that Randy and Laura generously gave us months ago.

At one point in the conversation with the call center Doc said "I'm sorry I don't understand the question". This was fair enough because It turned out the guy had asked him "What information lead you to TiVo?" which is a really weird way of phrasing the question "how did you hear about us?"

Doc's answer was, of course, "My wife".

Mad Men - The Hobo Code

We're watching season one of "Mad Men" and Pete has just been snarky to Peggy. As her face crumples and she tries not to cry, Doc C yells at the TV "Oh Peggy! Don't waste a single tear on that pig!"

Doc's Rules.

Oh I almost forgot!

On the way home this evening I mentioned to Doc C that I'd seen some really cool wooden blocks with the periodic table on, and that was exactly the kind of subtle indoctrination into geekdom that any potential child of ours should come to expect.

Doc then asked how to actually play with blocks, and I explained that you built towers, then knocked them down again. The Doc was bemused, but then explained that as a child he mostly felt comfortable with toys and games that came with very clear rules and instructions. He had a Lights Alive and would only do the pictures that came with a template, the blank pages never got used. He also would meticulously build the exact model on the Lego box, with no deviation from the plan or improvising.

This has continued, to a certain degree, into adulthood so that I am now married to the only person I know who enjoys filling out forms and following recipes precisely.  This explains why every time I cook Doc C wants to know why it's different to the last time I cooked what ever it is. Probably because I rarely follow a recipe or a pattern exactly as it's written, so I tend to go off the page a bit and add stuff if I think it will work and/or it needs using up.

Poor Doc, between me and the cats he must be constantly trying to keep us on track and we just keep skittering off to play with shiny stuff.

All That's Missing is the Sea.

This morning I was getting dressed and hadn't yet put on my jeans, so, when Doc C walked into the room, I was wearing white socks; hot-pink, white and black argyle boy shorts; a hot-pink camisole and a turquoise t-shirt. He looked at me for a moment, nodded and said "Nice! You look like you're on the set of a Wham video."

The very fact that my Fugazi loving husband could make that reference was hilarious in itself, and it was a point well made so I changed the turquoise t-shirt for a black one. The colour scheme for this morning wasn't an entirely random desire for over saturated colours, it was in fact because I finished my argyle scarf yesterday and I wanted to wear it today. It's hot-pink and turquoise, which probably looks better against the black t-shirt anyway.

However, this does mean that I've had "Club Tropicana" stuck in my head all day, because what other Wham video has Pepsi and Shirley wandering around the place in their bikini bottoms and cropped t-shirts?

Doc C's Approach to Gift-Wrapping.

The cookie baking marathon is complete!  Yay!  

Today we bought a dozen jam jars with a really cool quilted pattern molded into them, specifically so we can package the cookies and give them to Doc C's family when we see them over Christmas.  When we bought the jars we also bought ribbon, because as Doc C said "Tie ribbon in a bow round the jar, and it's fuckin' Christmassy right?"

That's my Sweetie!

Doc C is Down with the Street.

Whilst playing a video game we are all prone to talking to the characters, and Doc is not immune to this urge.  Usually I don't even notice, but this evening I was really very amused to hear him address a gentleman in full armour with the deathless phrase:

"Bitch! All my shit is real significant!"

Yes indeed, my husband who holds a Phd in Philosophy was talking to smack to an avatar.  I could not stop laughing.

FEED ME!

This morning in the gym I felt a bit light headed on the elliptical, so I slowed down and monitored my heart rate,although I was on the machine that generously rounds up the number of calories you've burned, so I don't really believe it's heart monitor anyway.  This was merely a forewarning, however, of The Terrible Hunger to come.

I like food, as I believe I may have indicated, but there are certain times in my monthly cycle when I just want to eat everything; especially toast, chocolate, hot tea, pizza, red wine and cake.  I do hate to deal in cliches, but I believe most ladies know whereof I speak.  When the painters are in, Auntie Flow visits and you are surfing the crimson wave, to use three absolutely delightful metaphors for The Curse, there are times when you don't just fancy a bit of chocolate, but you WANT all of the chocolate in the world right now.

This evening I listed to Doc C the chocolate I'd eaten today, because he specifically asked, and they were:

• My post-gym Kashi protein bar (which shouldn't really count I don't think, because Kashi make health food)
• Reese's Peanut-Butter Cup at lunch time (and the chick pea salad I had before it cancels it out, right?)
• An Almond Joy (bought at the supermarket on the way home after work, so I wouldn't eat my own shoe)

Actually fairly restrained! 

Doc started to say something about how he wasn't a hundred percent convinced that women really needed chocolate when they got their periods, and he actually seemed to be attempting to enter a debate with me on the subject.

I advised him most strongly to stop talking, before he got himself into trouble.  

Then I ate the sofa with Nutella.

Say What You See.

Doc C was early to pick me up yesterday, and took to messing around with post-it notes.

It says

"Department of the English Lady".

House Hunting - Day Two.

Before work this morning we had an appointment to look at a house, and it was actually nice but also actually a shoe-box.  OK, not actually actually, but compact certainly.  I was uncertain if we could fit our bed in the bedroom, and knew for a fact that no bedside tables or chests of drawers would be getting a look in.  The size was probably the only drawback, it was otherwise in a nice quiet location with a tree shaded balcony that I could actually venture onto during the daytime.  Also the owner said that he did not want to rent out any of the units to students, so it was likely to remain nice and quiet.

On the drive to work Doc and I discussed it, and agreed the size really would be an issue; but the more I thought about it the more I thought we could probably manage it if necessary.  In order for it to work there would have to be some serious clutter reduction, and we might need to consider getting a loft bed to maximise the space.  And I actually like those really high beds!  As an only child I'm not entirely clear on why I had bunkbeds as a kid (Moth?), but I loved climbing up the ladder and sleeping high off the ground.  Sleeping on the lower deck was less fun because my hair would sometimes get stuck in the springs of the top bunk, this would not be a problem if the beds were on wooden slats instead of springs though, right?

So that was one option.

I also had the number for the rental agent our friends Randy and Laura were renting through, so Doc gave her a call and five minutes later was on his way (with my camera) to see a house she had available.  He came bouncing back into my office with the news that we were going back this evening, so that I could see it,.. and he had already written a cheque for the deposit and pet fees.  

Apparently if I didn't like it then the cheque would just be torn up by the rental agent, but still!  Crikey!  Doc C can move fast when he wants to!

The house has two floors and a little loft platform thingy (it's like a built-in bunk bed, we could use it for storage or we could put a mattress up there for guests), and the rent is about the same as we pay here now but there it would include basic cable and the house is slightly bigger.  And there is a wrap around covered porch.  And there is a little laundry room just off the downstairs bathroom, which is imminently suitable for litter trays.  And there is a large pond with geese and fish and dragonflies.

We happened to see the agent just as we were leaving, so we've already told her we would like to move in.  She's going to run our credit check tomorrow and, assuming everything is in order, then we can move in on the 1st of August.  Ironically this house is right behind Randy and Laura's house, or what was Randy and Laura's house a week ago.  It would have been so convenient!  But, oh no, they had to move to the other side of town before we even knew this place existed.  Some people, really!

As we drove home Doc was saying this was by far the nicest house we'd seen, and he was really glad to have found somewhere because house hunting is so difficult when you have cats.  I pointed out that we had only really been looking for two days, and he said "And it's been a really difficult two days!"

Doc's asleep on the sofa now.  I think all the excitement has worn him out.

Both Do Apparently Rock

Doc (regarding his being in a really silly mood): "It's like a Rocketeers show around here!" Me (puzzled): "Do you mean Rockettes?" Doc: "...Whatever!"

Dinner and a Movie.

It's Sunday.  

I have eaten my dinner, which included the first smores of the summer, and now we are settling down to watch "All The President's Men".

This is made slightly problematic because of the seventies sound (which won an Academy Award, that seems a little ironic), so Redford and Hoffman are having difficulty competing with the dishwasher in our kitchen despite the TV being wired through our stereo for the best possible audio quality.  Marry a former sound engineer and you too can hear a pin drop on any reality show you fancy.

Still, it has been a very pleasant evening.

Reference Check.

Whilst I was having lunch with my husband today (Doesn't that sound grown up?  Unless you know I ate a packed lunch of cold pizza in Doc C's office, and then took my afternoon nap on the sofa), his phone rang and it was the Custard Depot.

They weren't calling to tell him that we were customers of the month or that we had won a lifetime supply of frozen custard unfortunately.  It was the manager and he needed Doc to give him a reference for one of his students who had applied to sling custard over the summer.  The Doc didn't know this particular student would be using him as a reference, but he gave an off-the-cuff recommendation with no problem.  All was well.

Five minutes went by. 

Doc C suddenly turned to me and said "I was talking about Jane Doe-A, not Jane Doe-B, and that's who he was asking about.  Oh..."  Brief silence as Doc C considers the conversation with the Depot manager. "Actually everything I said would apply to both of them, so it's fine."

Today's Alien Spouse top tip is for job seekers: Do tell your referees if they can expect a reference check on your behalf, if only so they don't get you mixed up with someone else with the same first name.

Sleeping Through Saturday.

Well, nothing much to report because I've been asleep pretty much all day today.  I woke up, fed the cats, had breakfast and then just felt like lying down for a minute. Didn't wake up again until 3:15 this afternoon.

I think it's the change in temperature, but it might be a combination of that, my new job and a little bit of residual Mono I suppose.

Of course Doc C is of the opinion that all I need to do is go for a brisk walk.  I feel certain he would have got on extremely well with my Granmouse.

In the Event of an Emergency, I'll be the One in the Jeans.

When we got home this evening Doc C said "I just noticed that your socks match your top!", which indeed they did because when your are wearing hot pink you may as well go for it.  Then Doc said "Actually I thought you were wearing a dress this morning.  I'm often surprised to see what you are wearing at the end of the day." Please note this is not because I have several costume changes through out my working day, and when I asked which dress he thought I was wearing today he couldn't tell me, because he apparently has no visual memory of my wardrobe at all.  Instead he just makes up outfits for me apparently.

So in the event I go missing Doc C is highly likely to describe me as wearing a dress I don't even own, when in fact it's probable I'd be in dark jeans, a t-shirt with 3/4 length sleeves, a cardigan and a pair of Converse.

I'm toying with the idea of taking a polaroid every morning, a la Cher in "Clueless", just in case there is some sort of emergency.  Of course if I did that Doc would just forget where I keep them, so it's pointless really.  I'll just have to never go missing, it's the only solution that I can see to the problem.

Dream Wedding.

Doc C told me that he had a dream last night that we got married again.  Naturally I asked "What was it like?" and Doc replied, apparently bemused by the question, "You said yes".

Upon further questioning it became clear that he couldn't give me any details of where the dream-wedding took place, who the dream-guests were or, most importantly, what dream-dress I was wearing.  Nothing.  Not one teeny tiny dream-detail.  Honestly he is hopeless, it's probably a good I didn't let him organise the real thing, can you imagine?

I will say that he had enough sense to mention that dream-me looked pretty.

Doc C Has Landed!

Doc C just texted to say he'd landed and was on his way, so he should be home in two hours.  He also asked if he should stop on the way to pick up some Dunkin' Donuts.  My response?

"Umm... HELLO?"

Shelling Out Blame.

Doc just accused the cats of peeing on his washing because of a musty smell; but then, as he was doing a very thorough sniff-through for firm evidence of this, he discovered a mussel that had been thrown in the machine with his towels.

We had mussels for dinner two weeks ago.

"If You Want to Be A Record Breaker!"

Doc C has to go to the doctor on Monday, and for reasons we needn't go into here, he can't eat anything on Sunday except for blue or yellow jello.  We were talking about that on the way into work this morning, and I said that I quite like jelly (as long as I don't think about the actual gelatin of course).  Doc looked at me and said "Jelly or Jell-O?", and I explained that in England we call Jell-O Jelly.  So Doc asked if that meant we make Jelly moulds, which yes we do; but we'd just call it Jelly, and the shaped mould part would usually be assumed (My Mum had a mould shaped like a rabbit for example.  Or it might have been a cat.  Hmmm).  Actually, a few days ago, a British archaeologist we were watching on a documentary about Pompeii described something as having held it's shape, like "a Jello Mould", and I thought it was really odd because it was so Americanised a way of phrasing it.

The UK Vs US thing still crops up occasionally, not in a confrontational way but sometimes something that was just an ingrained aspect of my childhood will pop into my head and no-one will have the slightest clue what I'm talking about.  For example, when I started singing the theme tune to "Record Breakers", which I know wasn't shown over here, so then I tried explaining what it was to Doc C and he was just bemused by the whole thing.  Possibly my explanation was a little garbled -

"Well, it was a kid's TV show and it was always on.  The presenter was Roy Castle and he sang the theme tune, and played the trumpet on the theme tune, and lead record breaking tap dance routines on that fountain at BBC Television Centre.  Oh, and they had Norris McWhirter, who was a proper adjudicator from the Guiness Book of Records, and people would, um, break records.  Which is why it was called 'Record Breakers'.  Anyway... "Dedication. Ooh Dedication.  Dedication!  That's what you need! If you want to be the best, and if you want to beat the rest, Oo-Oh Dedication's what you need!'"

Doc's used to that sort of thing every now and again, but it's a damn catchy theme tune to inflict on a poor unsuspecting husband.

AND - I found out this week that they don't really do Advent Calendars in the South!  I still can't quite get my head around that one.  No tiny piece of chocolate shaped like an elf?  No little plastic toys that are almost certainly a choking hazard?  No pictures of mangers and stars?  But how did you know when it actually was Christmas?

A Big Bowl of Halloween

Doc C took me into the office for a couple of hours today, and then I came home to sleep whilst he went food shopping.  Before he left I said something about maybe getting some Halloween sweets, and when he came back he had a whole carrier bag full.  I laughed, and told him I hadn't meant him to go quite that crazy, and he was all "What? This is nothing, this is the bare minimum!" and then ate 14 Almond Joys.*

As was clearly required if only for blog posting purposes, I immediately had to take some photos, so I set the bowl up next to my huge volume of Poe and a nice candle-in-a-storm-lantern.  As you will probably observe my career in product placement is already over before it had any opportunity to begin; almost all of the logos in this picture are either upside down or partially obscured.

_{* Footnote regarding Chocolate for British Readers:}

_{Almond Joy are like Bounty bars, but with an almond perched on top of the coconut.  They're nice!  If you really want to approximate a Bounty whilst here, then you need to look for Mounds; which ironically do not have as much of a mound because they don't have the almond on top.  American chocolate naming conventions are most peculiar.  For example what we would think of as a Milky Way is called a Three Musketeers over here, and how does that make any sense at all?  It only has TWO components - The fluffy stuff in the middle and the chocolate, so where does the third Musketeer come into it?  Has he nipped out for a bit?  Oh, and I have no idea what an American Milky Way is like, but I am pleased to say that Kitkats are exactly the same over here, which is very reassuring.  Actually the thing I'm most surprised to be unable to find here is a Dime bar, I mean how American sounding a product is that?  The closest I've found is a Heath Bar, but it's not quite the same texture of brittle toffee and the chocolate also needs some work in my opinion.}

Seriously, I WILL Faint.

Ok, so my Doctor doesn't think this is Swine Flu or anything H1N1 adjacent, which I am very pleased to hear.  She thinks it might be Mono, which I think is what we refer to as Glandular Fever in the UK.  I know I was tested for that as a teenager, during my summer of mysterious falling asleep bloody everywhere, but I don't think I actually had it.  Do you remember Mum?

Anyway, I was sent for blood tests which are never my favourite thing.  It's a pity, because I have lovely veins and nurses never have a problem actually getting the blood, it's just I get a touch of the vapours.  I hate it, because being my Mother's daughter, I do not like to make a fuss and fainting seems so attention seeking.  I always warn whoever is taking blood that I don't react well, but I tend to underplay it because it's not like I totally freak out at the sight of needles or anything. This time the nurse asked if I'd like Doc C to come with me, and I said yes. The nurse sat me down in a funny little sofa thingy, with arms that folded down in front of me.  There was a very faded sticker of a puppy on the left arm, and I took a couple of pictures of that mainly because I was trying to stay upbeat by not thinking about the whole blood thing.

The nurse very quickly found a good vein, and complimented me on how nice my veins are, so she soon had the needle in and was busily filling up the various vials.  I didn't watch and was talking to Doc C who was literally holding my hand through the whole thing. When she had finished, she took the tourniquet off my arm, and walked my blood around the corner to the lab; just as "Shout" by Tears for Fears started playing on the radio. 

At this point I thought that I turned to Doc, and said I feel a bit faint, and just moved into a chair with a slanted back with a bit of help from Doc.  However, according to Doc I looked him straight in the eye said "Tears for Fears... My head feels funny..." and then my pupils dilated and I slumped over sideways.

Poor Doc C was, and I quote, "totally freaked out" and had to shout for the nurse, who came racing back with a paramedic and smelling salts.  Actual smelling salts!  I had no idea those were a real thing that were still used!  They tried to wake me up, and then all three of them moved me to the chair I woke up in.  I had to sit there for a while because my blood pressure was really low (I am, indeed, my Mother's daughter!) and they didn't want me to leave until it got a bit higher.  Well, that and my lips had turned blue, which is never a good look.  After about ten minutes the nurses decided I was recovered enough to let me go, so they sent Doc to pull the car round and walked me to the door.  They told me to go straight home, to rest and drink plenty of liquids.

The really weird part was that I had no idea I had actually passed out.  I thought I'd just got a bit light headed, but it wasn't until Doc told me the whole story in the car that I found out I'd actually lost consciousness.  Weird!

Happiness Is... ...Really Selfish Apparently

Doc was teaching a class today and one of his students came up with such a delightful definition of happiness that I couldn't resist scavenging from "Love Is..." cartoon web archives to create a custom one. 

Doesn't that just make you all warm and fuzzy inside?

Doc wants it on a t-shirt.

Seven Years.

When we got home I flopped on the sofa to get on with crocheting the larger Brain Slug for Doc's Halloween hat, whilst Doc C went upstairs to get changed.  Then he came running back downstairs in his boxer shorts, because he'd just remembered that it was the seventh anniversary of our having met and he wanted to give me a big smooch.

He is so sweet.

The Unanswerable Question

I'm already in bed, but Doc C is downstairs and everything was quiet until I heard him talking to the cat.

Doc: Edith! What the hell are you doing?

Edith: (Silence. Followed by the sound of paws scampering up the stairs)

Edith walks nonchalantly into the bedroom, her plumed tail waving gently like a banner behind her. Nobody ever knows what Edith is doing or intends to do, she a cat of chaos and mystery.

It's Not Easy Being Popular.

"Today I showed my students really offensive art and I gave them the finger.  Let's see how many have dropped!"

Takes moment to log into class list.

"None! That's how good I am!"

Nobody Likes Me Everybody Hates Me, Think I'll Go and Date Avatars.

Scene: This morning on the way to the gym.

Jen: sigh. I have "Nobody Likes Me, Everybody Hates Me, Think I'll Go and Eat Worms" stuck in my head.

Doc: Well I've got "Do You Want to Date My Avatar?" stuck in my head for the 19th day in a row.

Jen: (Heartless laughter, as she was the one who introduced Doc to the song) You are welcome!

And for those of you who don't yet have "...Avatar?" stuck in their heads, here's the video on YouTube.

Come. Join us in repetitively humming the chorus for the next month and a half.

A Mini Pregnancy. (No, I'm not annoucing anything, calm down)

So yesterday was a very long day, and we spent all of it either driving or at the Mini dealership.  The forecourt of the Mini showroom is so much fun, it's covered in Minis as far as the eye can see.  Every colour and optional extra is represented, and it's like being in a sweet shop for Mini fans.  Our appointment was for 11, and Dana (The sales woman who sold us the black Mini) had got some cars lined up for us to look at. We looked at a cream Mini with heated seats, an "Oxygen Blue" (sort of a smoky sky blue, I loved that colour!) with sun roofs, one in the front and one in the back, and a silver Clubman, which is the biggest car Mini makes and has much more room in the backseat and the boot. They were all nice cars, but really if we were going to be tempted away from our black Mini we wanted something with heated seats and sunroof.  Those might sound like cosmetic concerns, but believe you me, on a frosty Monday morning a cold car seat really adds insult to the injury of having to get up for work. As it happened Dana had a "Chili Red" Mini on hand, which had the toasty seats and the breezy sunroofs.  We quite liked that.

Then came the negotiations part, which was dull but necessary.  I won't got into all of the details, because it's snore-inducing, but eventually we came to an agreement that allowed us to drive away a brand new red Mini with ten miles on the clock, and pay less per month on it. It was at this point that Doc posted a Facebook status that said he was, and I quote, "...freaked out, but also excited.", then we went to lunch, before coming back to hang around until we could sign all of the paperwork and finally drove our new car off the forecourt at 5:45.

It wasn't until we got home at about 9 that I logged onto Facebook, saw Doc's status and also that about half of our friends on Facebook took that to be a baby announcement.  The comments section was practically suggesting names already.  We swiftly issued official denials, because really People no I'm not, which in turn lead to my lovely friend Jonny leaving what I suspect will be my choice for best Facebook comment of 2009, "I've already started knitting the bonnet."

I know people say LOL all the time on-line, but seriously that is comedy gold Jonny!

We Are A Two Pod House.

Doc C has been assimilated. Over the weekend his defences weakened, then today the Borg Nanoprobe arrived and identified it's target.
By which I mean The Doc has finally bought an iPod Touch.  Squeee!

I've been telling him pretty much since I became assimilated myself six months ago, how fantastic it is so I am very excited.  First of all because I think Doc will really like it and find it useful, but also because the 3.0 software update allows iPod Touches to communicate, so you can play games together.  I have no idea why I am so thrilled by that development, but I really cannot wait to try it out.

Doc decided he wasn't bothered about getting his iPod engraved, so he chose to get a refurbished model because that was a bit cheaper.  He gets very Catholic (Quick clarification: Doc is Agnostic, but was brought up in a good Portuguese/Irish family which provides a healthy dollop of Catholic guilt) about buying stuff for himself, and I have to convince him that he has worked more than hard enough to earn himself the odd treat.

When we got home Doc immediately unpacked his refurbished friend and attached it to the desk top to get it acclimatised to it's new home.  I helped him with the initial set-up, and then left him to it.  It was very quite in the study for about an hour, and then he called to me.  I couldn't hear what he was saying, so I went running into the study.
Doc had a massive grin on his face and he said "I'm addicted!  This is addictive!"

He'd already downloaded a few applications, but he was really most excited by being able to download hours and hours of philosophy lectures.  Oh goody.  I really cannot wait until our next long trip in the car now that my husband has HOURS of philosophy lectures he can play to keep us entertained.

I really did not think this one through.

Even A Stopped Doc is Right Twice A Day.

Last night Edith seemed to be systematically working her way around our bedroom and experimenting with how she could make the most noise with what she could find on hand.  Paper is her instrument of choice, but she also very much enjoys pushing objects off furniture to make a worrying thump on the floor.  Nancy's current night time exercise is to jump onto Doc's pillow, walk over our heads then jump off the bed.  She'll then loop back round to Doc's side to repeat the loop.  Over and over and over... I eventually had had enough and shut the cats out of the bedroom, but essentially neither myself or Doc slept at all well last night.

This meant that after work today Doc and I were both exhausted.  I slept for about 90 minutes whilst Doc C went to the supermarket (how amazing is my husband?  I'll tell you, he went to the supermarket by himself and bought tampons for me.  I know that's a little TMI, but I'm still always ridiculously impressed when he does this), and he napped when he got back.

The Doc's was zizzing away quietly, until he suddenly jerked awake.

Doc: When are we leaving?

Jen: What?

Doc: When are we leaving?

Jen: To go where?

Doc:  To **unintelligible**

Jen: I'm sorry?...

Doc: To go to work!

Jen:  Oh... You do know it's 7.30 in the evening, not the morning?

Doc:  No, I totally forgot that.

And with that he relaxed, and went back to sleep. 

About ten minutes later, when Doc woke up properly, he told me that I could easily have convinced him it was Friday morning, and that we really needed to leave now.  Apparently he saw the clock said 7.30 and felt so tired that he was convinced it had to be the morning, the Doc is not a morning person.

When We're Not Reading Voltaire in the Original French.

DC: "Hey, you know what really annoys Edith?  If you look for the end of her tail!"

AS: "Why would you want to do that?"

DC: "Because I want to see it!"

Edith Thinks: *What the hell are you doing human male?  Leave my tail floof alone!  Ooh, I might chew my toe nails...*

Benches I Have Seen.

I still have photos from Massachusetts.  It's a good looking State.

As you can see this one is part of my ongoing collection of photos of nice benches with plaques on, or in this case, just a sweet invitation to sit down.  I particularly liked this one from Province Town because it was in a front garden, and it was right next to the pavement (American Translation: Sidewalk), so I think it was for anyone walking past who felt a bit tired.

I love that.

Have I mentioned that Doc and I have intermittent discussions about what will be put on the plaques of our memorial benches?  Morbid, but fun!  This week he was threatening to put "She was accommodating" on mine, because I'd been considerate or something.  That sounds distinctly insulting to me, it makes me sound completely spineless and I have a spine, damn it!

Hair Spray! (Well, Actually It Was A Gel)

It's the first Saturday after pay day, so naturally I had an appointment to get my hair cut today.  All this week Doc has been dropping subtle hints such as "Are you sure you need to get it cut?" or "You look so pretty with your hair longer", and "I think I like your hair this length".

Well, that's tough luck Sweetie!

Because once my hair gets to a certain length it goes really flat and loses all body, which drives me crazy, so it needed to be cut today.  This time I compromised with Doc somewhat and kept some of the length, but asked my hairdresser to take out a lot of weight and put in more layers. Of course when you go to the hairdresser in a Southern State and say that you want more volume, they really take that very seriously.  I think my hair is probably adding an extra half inch to my height right now.

Right now Doc is pleased that I haven't had it all cropped off which is my usual default mode, but he's not going to venture an opinion on the compromise cut until I've washed and styled it myself.  He's a very sensible husband.

Things Nobody Tells You About Tattoos.

My tattoo is a week old today!  Weird!

I'm still not used to having a permanent image on my skin, it's most odd.  I'll just catch sight of it and think "Oh!  That's right.  I have a TATTOO now. Huh."

You know what, Mum, I don't think you'll want to read the next two paragraphs after the photo, but do join us for the third.  That's when I stop talking about the actual process, and go into why I chose a key.  See you there!

I was expecting the sensation of tattooing to be more painful than it actually was.  It wasn't like a nice relaxing massage, but it really wasn't agony either.  It was more like when a cat starts licking you and won't stop; their tongues are so rough that it's not really a pleasant feeling and, if they get really obsessed, it can start to hurt.  So it was sort of like that, but with moments of stinging occasionally.

The annoying part that nobody tells you is that, because a tattoo is essentially scar tissue, it has to heal; so it scabs over and gets really itchy and you cannot scratch it for fear of damaging the image.  If you pick at the scab and it takes away too many layers of skin, that will leach out some of the ink too.  I'm pleased mine hasn't scabbed too much, so it's looked quite pretty from the moment I unbandaged it, but bloody hell it is itchy now.  Annoying!  Doc tells me that once the healing is complete the "...bad-ass factor kicks in" and you forget how aggravating it was for that first week or two.

The other thing that Doc C didn't mention until after I'd got my tattoo, was that when people notice a tattoo they tend to ask what the significance of the image is, and they generally want a nicely complex back story.  My tattoo is a key, which I chose because I wanted something that I wouldn't be embarrassed by in twenty years time, so I didn't want skulls, or kittens, or Doc's name, much though I love all those things, obviously.  So what did I want?  I don't really invest a lot of personal significance in symbols, but I did want something that would remind me that I can do things if I just apply myself, and it had to be something small that I could cover up if I really needed to with a large bangle.  The other reason for the small size is more practical; I have very pale skin and I have a lot of moles, so I couldn't cover a large area of skin up without one getting in the way (actually another thought was just putting numbers next to my moles, so that I looked like a large dot-to-dot drawing, but my moles aren't coherently grouped enough for that!) I also knew that I wanted something that was what it was unambiguously, so I wanted a clear image and I immediately thought of Victorian engraved illustrations.   

The more esoteric explanation is that my tattoo means that the right key will unlock anything, you just have to find that key, although really that's a little bit more new age than I like to get usually.  Still, when I tell people this version of the back story, I'm also adding in an unlocking gesture with my hand whilst making a clicky noise with my tongue. That seems to be going down well.

Of course after we'd left the tattoo artist, I thought it would be great to have blank key fob tattooed onto the key, so I can write whatever it is that I want to unlock with a felt tip pen.  The only difficulty with this ingenious embellishment to the design, is that I can't write with my left hand.  The devil really is in the details.

Stinky, Stinky, Stinky.

Today's top tip, should you be about to drive route 81 through Pennsylvania, is to bring gas masks and some sort of air freshener because OHMIGOD there is a stretch of about fifteen miles that stinks to high heaven.  I am not even joking.  I found myself hoping for a skunk to become enraged at one point.  Funnily enough this stink was very close to the town of Hershey, I will say no more. *cough* chocolate-should-not-taste-like-that *cough*

Our trip was further enlivened by Doc C noting that his beef jerky purchase, far from adding to his manliness, in fact indicated that he was "...not a real man of the road...I went for the low sodium option."

To round up this post of dubious taste I'll just add that I have been reading "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" which combines the classic tale of romance with a plague of reanimated corpses.  It's very fun, and the conceit does explain why there is a garrison of soldiers permanently stationed by a sleepy English village.  Unfortunately Miss Austen's co-author rather stretched my credulity by adding a scene in which chipmunks scurry across the Bennet girls path, followed by several other animals, including a skunk.  That's just taking things too far!  Zombies? Yes. Misplaced wildlife?  No.  You have got to have limits and that would be mine, it's exactly the same issue I had with the live version of "101 Dalmations" frankly.

The Ups and Downs of Being an Academic.

Doc is in the middle of a end-of-semester final paper grading frenzy.  This is usually unrelenting misery, but occasionally his face will light up with pleasure at what he's reading.  

As happened yesterday evening, when he turned to me and said:

"I love it when a student uses the word 'biaatch' in an essay!"

Which is actually justified in this instance, because it was used in the context of a paper on the aesthetics of hip-hop culture.  That particular essay made him considerably happier than the one page paper that was written in what amounted to text message speak, and should have been ten pages long.

Cat Mini Spa Day.

Today is mini-spa day in the Alien Spouse house!

By which I mean that I plastered on a moisturising hair mask (Marilyn from Lush, my hair responds very well to a weekly treatment I find) when I got up, so it'll have a nice long soaking in period.

Then we had breakfast (Crumpets! Yum!) and I suddenly decided it was time to bath the cats, because their fur still has an undercoat, and it's starting to get hot so we need to get that off them before we get into the shedding-furballs-puking cycle that all cat owners know so very very well; plus they both smell like cat food and frankly that's not delightful to my nose.  Doc has been talking about actually putting the cats in a bath with water, and personally I would love to watch him try that but I'll have no part of it because I think it would end badly all round.  There would be a lot of indignation and hurt feelings in both the feline and human camps, and I'm fairly certain everyone would say things they didn't really mean. 

Instead I got out the bottle of dry shampoo we'd got free with the Furminator.  Now it's called dry shampoo, but it's actually a liquid that you spray onto the cat, rub in and then allow to dry before brushing it out along with the loose fur and dirt.

Can you see any design flaws there?

That's right!  You try spraying your cat with a liquid and see how far you get.  They hate it.  I quickly worked out the only way to get this done was to spray some into my hand and then rub it into the fur.  That they will tolerate, although with no good grace.

Then you have to brush the stuff out.  Both of our cats don't mind the first stroke or two of a brush, but then they get annoyed with it.  Nancy believes you are trying to kill her with kindness, and Edith just tries  to kill you.  Note to self:  Miss Edith Cavell-Cat requires both a manicure and a pedicure before her wash-and-set, and she does not suffer mistakes gladly.

 

(Doc glanced over at one point to see what all Edith's fuss was about and said "Baby! You've got a really nasty scratch on your arm!" I was all  "Yes, Love, I do know.  Thanks.")

Still both cats look a lot better now, very sleek and shiny, plus they smell like they've just come back from the hairdressers with that expensive fruity coconut shampoo smell.  So to re-cap I am bloodied and neither cat will come anywhere near me, but I think it was worth it.  Just look at the size of the hairballs I've pre-empted!

A Most Varied Saturday.

 This morning when I came down to feed the cats I immediately noticed that the cat tower had been knocked over, because I am perceptive like that.  What I don't understand is how the thing fell on it's side without waking me or The Doc up.  I mean it's pretty big, wouldn't it have made some noise?

Anyway, then Doc made me crumpets for breakfast.  This time I had jam on mine.  It was nice.

Then we went food shopping and on the way we stopped off at the pet shop.  We wanted a food container, but they had none in stock.  However they did have cat harnesses and leads.  More of that later...

On the way to the supermarket we were walking passed a small bookshop and I spotted Tori Spelling's autobiography "Stori Telling" on the sale table.  It is now mine.  It turned out that it was actually a bookshop, newsagents and cigar shop.  We browsed the magazines, and Doc asked me who the little old lady sitting outside was doing out there; on the way in I'd seen that she had a stack of books and a sign saying she was doing a signing.  Doc went back outside to chat with her, whilst I was asking about the empty cigar boxes they had on top of the shelves.  It turned out they were all for sale, and I have found a fantastic square box with a open front to it for $3.  I have no idea what I'll do with it, but it just looks really useful for something.  When I went back out, Doc had decided to buy two books from the author outside, she was a Russian emigre who had moved to the US when she was 8.  Her first book was about that experience, and the second book was a collection of the letters she and her husband wrote to each other before they married.  Doc asked her to sign the second book and bought it for me; she also gave him a copy of her husband's poetry, I think just because he was interested in it.

After doing the food shopping we came home, and put the harness on the cats one at a time.  They had no idea what the hell was going on, and as you can see Nancy looked particularly comfortable in it.  Poor Nance liked the going outside part, but hated the harness, so she kept walking backwards to try and get out of it.  Edith mainly just rolled around on the front path.

Then I came back in for my movie marathon.  "I Married A Monster from Outer Space" was fun, Doc went so far as to say it was "Rocking", mainly because of the surprisingly good special effects and some good solid performances.  As planned I then watched "Cheaper by the Dozen" which Doc wasn't interested in, so he cooked and just caught the odd scene.  Straight after that on TCM was "Funny Girl" OMG!  Doc lasted about 15 minutes before declaring he had enough.  I can't think why.  I mean I'm not a huge Barbra fan, but her early movie career was pretty good, so I watched the start and end around the "Ashes to Ashes" finale.  It was a very good evening for film and TV.

Oh, That picture in the bottom left hand corner?  That would be Edith killing her crinkly shiny ball toy, because I think it's hilarious when she does that.  She takes it so seriously!

Doc C: The Thinking Woman's Crumpet.

When I moved to North Carolina in October 2007 I knew things would be different, and I was somewhat prepared for that; but whilst there are things you can acclimatise to and things that you can import, there are other things that it is very hard to accept are lost to you.

I speak of crumpets.

There are few things as cautiously flavourful, and with such a satisfying texture, as a good crumpet.  Piping hot, dripping with salty butter and accompanied by a good strong cup of tea they are simply delicious.  And impossible to get here.  Oh, I after some trial and error I discovered a half way decent English muffin, and you can easily get PG Tips, but crumpets still alluded me; so naturally crumpets were what I really really wanted.

Today Doc C has successfully made me crumpets. 

The Doc is such a sweet and modest man that all he asks by way of thanks was "big post props" which he later specified should also be "Poetic".  He also wishes that I convey to my Mother just how well her daughter is being cared for, even if she is several thousand miles away from a branch of M&S.  I'm sure you will agree this is only fair and proper.

I would post a picture of the deliciousness, but frankly my camera was upstairs and the hot crumpets, fresh from the griddle, were downstairs.  Would you really expect a woman who has not eaten crumpets in over eighteen months to postpone that reunion for the sake of documentary evidence?  Of course not!

Anyway, Doc made loads!  I'll take some photos tomorrow, after work when I'm enjoying a hot cup of tea and a plate of crumpets.  I think I may spread marmite on them, and then put some slices of good sharp cheddar on top and then grill (American translation: broil) them until the cheese is bubbly, and the marmite has sunk through the deliciously spongey layers.  I almost can't wait, maybe I'll just have that for dinner and go for a new household record in carb consumption in a single 24 hour period.

Yum.

Television, Television.

I am totally addicted to Hulu.  It's just so nice to be able to watch back-to-back episodes of all of the shows that I actually like, instead of getting sucked into mind numbing dross.

The only problem being that this afternoon I logged in and blithely plowed through "Lie to Me", and was just watching "Fringe" when Doc C walked into the room, stared at me in horror and yelped "Are you cheating?"

Apparently he really likes "Fringe", "Lie to Me" and "Dollhouse", so I shouldn't have watched those without him.  Whoops.  He would have been really quite cross I think, but fortunately I was working on a crochet project for him as I hulued so I think I am forgiven.

It Was, I Believe, Shaken.

We went to see the new Bond movie last night, and I am pleased to report that it was pretty good.  Personally I think it would have been helpful if they had done a bit more of a recap about what happened in "Casino Royale", because whilst I remembered that Vesper had been a very morally conflicted character who ended up dead, I couldn't really remember any specifics, and the plot of this film really does follow straight on the heels of that one.  So maybe it would be helpful to watch "Casino Royale" again just to refresh your memory before seeing this one.

But really all you need to know is that Bond is brooding a lot and has gone rogue, then just sit back and watch all the explosions and pretty girls in nice frocks.

I must admit to expending a fair amount of my concentration on the costumes and jewelry, and I definitely want to be M when I grow up, Judi looked great!  I was also delighted to see that Gemma Arterton's red hair doesn't look anywhere near as fake on the screen as it had done in the publicity shots that I'd seen.

After the film we went to our favourite bar for drinks, and as they have just started serving mixed drinks, I ordered a Martini.  Doc C told me after he'd paid the bill that it was only $5.50, which he commented would have made it practically free in London.  He'd asked why it was so cheap and it turn out the standard Martinis they serve are bought pre-mixed in a bottle.  If I'd asked for a specific type of Martini that required them to summon the mixologist on duty, then it would have been more expensive.
I'm sure Martini purists would shudder at the thought of a pre-prepared bottle, but I liked it and it went straight to me head, which I believe is the point of the exercise.  My favourite part was the olive at the end, that was just delicious, I could have eaten several of those.

First Morning!

Upon receiving the excellent news that the someone had been where they were supposed to go, Doc C announced to the house in general:

"I'm so proud of whoever it was that used the litter box!"

Oh good!  I was sort of desperate...

The Political Satire of Doc C.

Doc C and I are at the supermarket on the way home, and as we wandering down the canned vegetables aisle Doc turned to me and said:

"Do you want to stock up on tins of beans in case the economy crumbles and the fabric of society splinters? Oooh! M&M's!"

He then zoomed off to grab a large bag of the peanut and chocolate treats.  Do you think that's what happens at script meetings for "The Daily Show, with John Stewart"?  Someone is right in the middle of an amusingly scathing riff about the current political situation, when they get distracted by sugary snacks?

I Think Therefore I Am! Woooh! I Love This One!

Yesterday Doc had given his afternoon lecture which went as normal, dismissed the class and he then turned to clean the board as the students filed out.  When he turned back to the classroom there was a pair of pink lacy g-string knickers on the floor right where he had been standing whilst lecturing. 

He has no idea who they belonged to, and the last few students in the room claimed to have no knowledge of them either.  The Doc grabbed a piece of scrap paper to pick them up with, and threw them in the bin.

So in case you'd ever wondered how good a lecturer The Doc really is; he can make a lecture on Decartes so rock-and-roll that he gets underwear thrown at him.  He is the Aerosmith of Philosophy.

Zombie Slow.

As the very slow car we had been stuck behind turned off the road, Doc C said "Good.  Now we can move at the speed of the living".