something geeky and gorgeous about traditions

(photo by the lovely J. Lanae)

I make pizza on the same days I bake bread because it's easy that way.

After punching down the dough and dividing it into loaves, I roll the extra flat and bake it on a pizza stone. When I did that yesterday, my little 21-month helper stood on a kitchen chair and insisted on assisting with the cheese (by putting it on the pizza, and then off the pizza and into her mouth).

Watching her, I wondered if some day, when Claire and her future siblings come inside from playing and smell bread baking, they'll know it's pizza night.

Maybe this new rhythm—that I'm creating out of ease—will feel comfortable and reliable to them by then. Maybe it will become tradition. Maybe not.

But traditions. Get me thinking about a word and I'll head to the geekiest dictionary I can find. Definition number one...

tradition: act of delivering into the hands of another

Yes, traditions include a fair amount of repetition and festivity (definition #6). But I love the idea that tradition might first be about giving something, delivering a sort of gift—a gift that passes on a recurring message: "This is what life means. This is how much you mean to me. This is what to rely on when things feel shaky." I hope she gets the message that I mean to send.

More ta da

This is Christopher, I'd like to add something to Kathy's last post.

The night we found out, Kathy came out of the bathroom and said "I know why I've been acting crazy."

We laughed and celebrated and looked up names in the Oxford English Dictionary, which shows what kind of nerds we are. We've had over a year to think of names, because we've been trying for a while. If we have a girl, we'll name her Ermenie, and if a boy, Truman.

Ermenie is my grandmother's name and etymologically related (in my mind, at least) to Hermes, the god of writing. We'd call her Emmie.

The Greek Hermes is the Egyptian Thoth

Truman was a U.S. president, but we won't name our baby after him because he was a war criminal. Truman has the simple meaning of "true man" but is also next to "trumeau" in the dictionary. Trumeau is "a pillar supporting the middle of the tympanum of a church doorway." This brings to mind the pillars Boaz and Jachin that adorned Solomon's temple.

So it's like naming your kid "The Rock" in nerd-tongue.

If you steal our names, I'll curse you (with cuss words, not voodoo).

I still can't believe it's true, but Kathy throws up a lot to prove it to me.

Define: Colocation

Kathy and I saw the word "colocation" on a billboard, and ended up laughing about it for about a half an hour (it was past our bedtime).

Before you google it, tell me what you think the word means.

I thought it was a kind of vacation that you never want to go on.

Wo is me: Flight of the Conchords Edition

Tickets for a Flight of the Conchords concert went on sale twenty-three minutes ago. They are now sold out.

I called in at 10am and got through, but the phone rang for about two minutes, which made me think my call had been lost or something, I don't know how phones work. So I hung up and dialed back again. Busy. Again. Busy. Again and again on my way home from school. Busy. Busy. Busy.

I called 51 times.

Finally at 10:06 I got through again. The phone rang for six minutes. I waited. And waited. An operator picked up, and told me the bad news.

If only I hadn't've hung up that first time. I wouldn't be in the misery I am now.

I'm not crying. It's just been raining. On my face.

so i'm a nerd. are we surprised?

My friend, Clayton, tagged me on his blog last year. Literally last year.

It's taken me so long to finally post my answers here because I've hesitated to confirm all of your suspicions of my nerdiness. The tag asks about tv shows and wishes; I don't watch enough tv to fill up the list, and all I wish for are books. Here goes. Fewer than 8 reasons why I am, indeed, the nerd you thought I was:

8 shows I watch:
The Office, The Colbert Report, The Daily Show. Um...
That's it, really. I don't have eight. I don't actually have a TV that works. I watched LOST and the first season of Heroes. I hope nothing's wrong with me.

8 places I like to eat:
Cafe Rio, El Azteca, Tucano's, Bombay House, La Dolce Vita, Guru's, One World Cafe, and Zupa's.

Fortunately, I'm not sure it's possible to be a food nerd. Unless you own this. Which I do.

8 things on my wishlist:
All of them are books. And I have more than eight.

But if we're going with unrealistic, non-bookish, pie-in-the-sky type wishes, I would choose these eight: a baby, peace in Israel, a decent health care system, a voice loud and wise enough to make a difference, magic laundry fairies for all the women of the world, the ability to fly, a hawaii-like climate in provo—oh, and another bookshelf.

you know you've played too long when...

I don't really like video games much; they're generally too violent for my taste and they stress me out. But Christopher bought this lovely little game called World of Goo, which is the first video game EVER that I have plans to beat.















If you mess something up in the game, you can click on a little bug, the screen flashes, and you go back to your previous turn. When the little goo structures you create collapse or fall down, you can just go back in time and try it again. Apparently, my hour tonight with the game (and its you-can-go-back-one-turn policy) made me forget reality.

While moving some things on top of the fridge just now, I knocked over some dishes. They clattered all over the floor. Nothing broke, but the whole thing startled me. My instant reaction in that moment? Click on a little do-over flash bug. I tried to press my thumb down on the game controller I didn't have in my hand, and it actually took me an entire second to realize that I had to pick the dishes up. Maybe I won't play video games again for a little while.

Celebrating Dentist Style

We have an old dentist chair stored in our garage waiting to go to the D.I. I got it from Dave, my father-in-law, and thought I could look commanding while playing video games.
Our friend (and landlord) Janel spotted it and asked if we were keeping it for some sort of Obama victory celebration. I'm assuming she thought it was a sacrificial altar (watch your back, Mike).

Great idea:

R2 BackPack

I need this:

From: fredflare

Halloween Costume

I found what I want to be for Halloween:Unfortunately it's sold out everywhere. So this year for Halloween I think I'll just hide under my bed and cry, because my dream has been crushed.

What will you be for Halloween?

speaking of nerds...

We moved last week, but still haven't totally unpacked. When faced with the prospect of arranging and organizing our dishes, clothes, and other belongings, I immediately went with the most important task—organizing the books.

When Christopher got home from work last Friday, he noticed that all the dishes were still piled on the table, and we still couldn't reach our bed without stepping over massive piles of stuff. But if he wanted to know where all the poetry books were stashed, I could point him in the right direction.

He definitely helped make the books a priority. Look what he did before we ever even moved in the couch or table:
















Nerds. Both of us. But if you need any book recommendations, we can point you to the right shelf.

Panerda's Box

I found myself whispering to my wife as we walked together on campus. I had to keep what I said secret, keep it safe. No one could hear, otherwise they would know WHAT A BIG NERD I AM.

The secret: Battlestar Galactica.
I reviewed the storyline with my wife so that we could start watching season 3 together. I got overexcited as I told her the plot, and got kind of emotional too. Then I realized what I was saying, so I lowered my voice. I imagined I might run into cool people who would think less of me if they heard. Imaginary wedgies tickled my crack.

My wife has been too busy with reality to join me in fantasy land. I'm already halfway through season 3.

Other reasons I'm a nerd:

1. I've seen every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
   
2. And every episode of Angel, a spinoff of Buffy
3. I enjoy comic books
4. I pick my nose in secret

If I've left any out, let me know.

Go Speed Racer (Racer X=my hero)

Kathy and I went with some friends to see Speed Racer at the dollar theater. We went with low expectations, and only wanted to see it because Matthew Fox, a.k.a. 'Jack' from LOST is in it. We were not disappointed.

Stephen Colbert was right, watching it was equivalent to being tossed around a clothes dryer with a strobe-light. It was cartoony, and catered to children, but so enjoyable.

For the kids, Speed Racer had a goofy little brother whose best friend was a monkey. The villians were easily discernable from the bad guys buy their ugliness and their own creepy background music. But all this child-pandering notwithstanding, the movie was really enjoyable.

Jack played the mysterious Racer X. He kicked some butt. One of my favorite scenes involved him fighting a ninja in his pajamas. Another was when a race car was upside-down in the air above his car, and he jumped his car just under that car, and punched the driver in the face just for the heck of it. That was awesome. Jack, or Racer X, should have his own spin off show where he beats people up. They don't even need to be bad guys, just people who could do with a beating.

Go with really low expectations like we did, and the payoff will be great.

My wife is a nerd

We brought home Kathy's 7th grade spelling bee championship trophy from her parents' house.



















I lost on the word "February" in 3rd grade. Arrgh that first 'r' is silent, at least in Utah.

She told me that three years after winning that the 2nd place winner told her he had finally dropped his grudge against her, but he still remembered the words he lost by, she didn't. The losers remember. February, you jerk.

I married her because she was a nerd, just like me. After we got married I found a box she had stored away completely full of star wars memorabilia. So nerdy, so cool.

Nerdiness is part of her soul. This week she had a nightmare and woke up screaming. I held her and asked me to repeat her nightmare to me, not so much to comfort her as to sate my morbid curiosity. The details were frightening for sure. Our 4am room started to look like a morgue. But the kicker, the end of the dream that startled her awake in screams: Voldemort.

Voldemort was the bad guy of her dreams. I chortled, a silly, 4am, uncontrollable laugh. I found it is difficult to comfort someone when you're laughing at them.