this moment in time brought to you by penelope

K.Lo: teething again, or still, or whatever. I feel bad for the kid because several are popping through at once, they take forever (weeks, months), and her gums are all swollen. She's just not her usual charming self.

N.Lo: getting bigger every day, and he's a kicker. Predict foot will be coming out of mouth by October.

Pen: tired, increasingly uncomfortable with sciatica, heartburn. Less patient than usual. And whiny, clearly. Not my usual charming self.

K.Lo and Pen together: a weary team. Outings are generally mishap-filled, so we tend to stay home these days. We watch Elmo until our eyes bleed.

House: pretty clean, but I gave up on the vacuuming and a few other things here and there. Should be presentable for kudzu, who is visiting today (yay!). Though really I doubt she cares about a few (or more than a few) wayward dustballs.

Outside: Scorching. Blazing. Ridiculous. I don't remember a day or series of days this hot in recent years. I mean, yes, it's August and it's North Carolina, and I'm hotter than usual this year with preggo heat. But sheesh. Yesterday, something was burning in ILM, and the air just felt like fire.

Cookies: lost again. Except not in that way. I baked a batch of banana-oatmeal-raisin-coconut bars (tasty!) for K.Lo's play group today, and when we left, I put them on the top of my neighbor's car. I predict they are somewhere in Castle Hayne, scattered roadside and hopefully not causing a scene. Whoops.

Top Chef: fun and fantastic as usual, but I wish that they did make the crabcakes, for one, and also that Sara would go home, because she annoys me. And Howie doesn't, strangely. Tom Colicchio grows on me more and more with each season. But it's all still not enough; I eagerly anticipate the fall lineup.

This Weekend in Pictures: I was...?

j.lo gives pen heart attack, bug just says "cheese"

Waiting to:

I'm hemorrhaging money right now: dress, crossing the white dashed line, running over a metal beam (insurance bastards), the money leaking thru my fingers- i gasp. But in lieu of a dreary post about vague non-specified, nebulous abyss like lingering anxiety- that we all have, bcs it spreads like a fungus- i will give you a list, mmm, list- of books i need to read or peruse more thoroughly: I need to get reading:

Found II
The New Book of Lists
Collected Poems: Richard Wilbur
Dud Avocado
Enjoying the Presence of God
Celebration of Discipline
City of God
Shadow of the Wind
The Mill and the Floss
Chaos
Commentary of critical essays: Buffy and Angel
Dust
Anton Chekhov: Short stories
Eric Rex
Pride and Prejudice
Mind of the Maker
The # 13
bird by bird
The bad girls guide to the open road
Julie and the Wolves
Island of the Blue Dolphins
A Swiftly Tilting Planet
Galileo's Daughter

Weddings

I went for a romantic greco-20's look. Of course the camera that has an actual pic of the dress is not giving up it's Gig, so these will have to do. It's chiffon, tapered just below the knees.i tried my hardest to pull it classic as it could've easily slipped 70's with the gathered bodice and the chiffon tie running down the front...

The wedding was good. It didn't have a lot pomp to it. But when you don't know anyone but one or two people that look "familiar" comfortable chairs and ceremony can go a long way, but then again they were already living together and known each other for more than a decade, so it seemed more like a rededication than anything.

My big mistake, besides general fatigue, unexplained except that hello it was friday night after a tiresome work week, was the heels, which i managed except for the grass. I feel that you should warn women that there's grass so that we can plan our shoe attire properly. Who wants to stab the grass and teeter backward or walk on the balls of your feet the whole time? Luckily the reception was in a hall. There were a few classic looks in attendence, smart cuts with fitted waists and tasteful but young and flirty formality about them, a couple conservative wearing black types which i feel though is awfully dreary for a summer wedding in california, the humble middle class whose tastes are usually simple and almost always smack of coming from the office. (ooo snob!) and then an overwhelming number of the mid-to-late 20' somethings entrenched in the fashion of the 60's and 70's. Drapey polyester, halter tops, patterns, browns, greens, pretty but seemed more suited for a night out than an actual wedding. Of course half of these girls were getting lit in the parking lot and seemed to impatiently wait for the dancing to begin anyway. The boys generally well suited with shaved heads- I don't know why.

I was tragically not into the wedding. Though it was beautiful and i love the bride. I felt completely out of place. It happens as such when one doesn't know anyone and you have nothing to do not even help. The couple weddings where i only knew the bride/groom I had things to do- decorations, trouble shooting. This time i was cut adrift and with my mom. Which posed a problem for the whole seating arrangement. We (my mom and i) were in the odd friends of friends friends category. Left with 2 empty seats besides me and 4 friends of the brides mother. Who also knew us as 'my next door neighbor for 15 years' and 'childhood friend of bride'... but with no one at all who cared to hear our stories or asked if we had any anyway. I looked longingly at the young set already getting smashed and clanking their glasses and felt i was sorely belonging to some other time and place. When the dancing began I thought it would've been fun to dance but I was already picturing my retreat and with a okay, we're leaving (after a meer 3 hour, 7-10pm attendence), goodbye, we love you, you're lovely, congratulations, we left with our wee pots of white pegonias and an unfulfilled desire for chocolate dipped chocolate icecream cones- who may i ask waits to serve the cake till after the dancing?! Torture. I had to leave without it. But props to them for the dance which was an entertaining salsa.

I felt a tinge bad for leaving but it was a small enough wedding where there weren't enough strangers to blend into, and left me rethinking my attendence at a jackson, wy. wedding coming up. I told the bride i was trying to come out, but no offer to stay with friends, or family, but a reference to cheap hotels in the area, and a 'love it if you could come' made it seem like some sort of decadent mercy invite. I don't get it. But can only assume that she thinks i'm wealthy enough to blow $500 on a plane ticket and 4days of hotel and rental carfare. Since it's ontop of a mountain and a 4 day event wedding- rodeo, day at the lake, night out and day of... seems like there wouldbe enough people to blend in with and get to know (maybe a hot outdoorsmen) but my show doesn't close until the 31st, so i'd just be up for the saturday wedding- and if i don't have time to get drunk with everyone 3 days running before, even if a friend of mine from chicago flies out with me, i am skeptical as to my social success at the wedding, as gorgeous and spectacular as i assume it will be-

I am left pouty without major story or incident, a vague feeling of displacement, a girl dressed up and pretty, but alone by the wall, near the cheese tray.

what wedding?

1. shaved

2. pincurled

3. manicured

4. exfoliated

for the ladies

Obviously, I'm a mom, so it might seem strange at first that I'm posting this link. But I have to say, this Newsweek article from a few weeks ago just rocked. To me, it not only defends women against impertinent childbearing inquiries, but it also takes a terrific stab at some abhorrent trends these days in mommyhood. It made me laugh, and reinforced such an important personal philosophy, which is, if and when you do ever become a parent, for everyone's sake (you, spouse, children, family, friends, the world), don't lose yourself.

My Turn: Stop Setting Alarms on My Biological Clock, by Carrie Friedman

Just the One Thing

El Torito Happy Hour is pretty fantastic.

lost between PA and New York City

So, the big event contained in our trip to PA was a Saturday excursion to NYC for my future sister-in-law's bridal shower. Being 3 hours outside the city with a toddler, a preggo, and my 89-year-old grandma in tow, it was deemed the best option to hire a limo for the trip. A bus would have been nearly as much, and a car trip more... emotionally expensive. The limo arrived bright and early, complete with TV, stereo, snack basket and ice water to drink. Our friendly driver, who took smashing care of us all day, was Deb. Bug's carseat hooked right into the back, and we were on our way. Immediately I felt overheated, which frankly is never a good sign, not while preggo. In my hand, I held a bracelet that I needed help putting on, because the latch is tricky--but then I noticed a link was broken, so it wouldn't be wearable at all. J.Lo gave the bracelet to me for our first anniversary; it is white gold with diamonds, in a pattern of "x's" and "o's." I wasn't too bothered about it breaking, because it clearly could be fixed by the jeweler whenever we got home, so I just held onto it, with the intention of putting it somewhere safe in a bit.

As the world whizzed past, I retreated inward, into some kind of quasi-meditation, concentrating on not being sick, although sometimes you just know it will happen anyway. Finally I had to ask for a bag. I hate, hate, hate having to throw up, especially into a bag and in front of others. I mean, it's not your fault, but you're instantly and totally That Girl. No one wants to travel with a vomiter. Sorry, Baby N.Lo, but you have to take the blame on this one, because typically your mom can hold her motion cookies. We pulled over almost immediately, to a scenic rest area with a few trash cans to do away with the sick, as well as a lovely view of the mountainside. It is here that I think the diamond bracelet was thrown away, I must have let it go into the bag while simultaneously puking and trying like hell to keep my dress clean (which I did, defying all laws of Peneloluck). Or maybe I lost the bracelet during Round 2, where we pulled over somewhere on the NJ Freeway and I vomited into the weeds while cars whooshed by. Regardless, the bracelet is gone, gone, gone. I lament this loss much more than the lunch I lost later, on the way home.

The shower itself was really fantastic, in spite of travel woes. Bug, due to the long and horrible process of teething 6 teeth simultaneously, was generally in a bad mood, but had her moments. She made friends with many accomodating and thankfully non-threatening strangers in Battery Park. The setting was simply lovely, with views of the Statue of Liberty and crowds traversing to and from the ferries. We even saw Spiderman (hobby or occupation? not clear).

Appetizer choices were:

Mission Fig & Cherry Tomato Salad: Brandied Figs & Tomatoes, Frisee, Bleu Cheese Mascarpone & Citrus Dressing, or

Peekytoe Crab Cake w/ red cabbage slaw, spicy Asian peanut sauce

Against my typical judgment, I went with the salad, because, ermmm, crab cakes on a sketchy stomach, not so much. I stole a few bites from Mom's plate, however, and either way, you couldn't really go wrong. As my aunt attested, the crab cake alone was worth the cost of the limo.

Entree choices were:

Miso Glazed Chilean Sea Bass w/ Jasmine rice, sauteed shitake mushrooms & haricot vert, or

Filet Bourguignonne w/ Pearl Onions, Yukon Gold Potatoes, Wild Mushrooms & Veal Jus

Also a tough call, but again I played it safe and went with steak, which was fan-tastic. For dessert, each table was presented with a large fruit salad, and also slices of terrifically frosted, lemon-filled cake. The company was pleasant, with the exception of a particularly sour family member (no rhyme or reason, what can you do), and the bride-to-be was most congenial and lovely, and appeared to just enjoy the day. As anyone should, preggo-sick, diamond-bracelet-losing, teething, or no, on a beautiful summer afternoon in NYC.

bug meltdown: a photo series