Egyptian Chocolate

Have you ever had a friend with lots of chocolate who didn't share it with anyone but you? Everyone knew that he was horribly selfish, but you didn't really care because, hey, you love chocolate! And when everyone else started starving while you and your friend became mildly obese on the abundant flow of rich cacao, it still didn't matter because, hey, you love chocolate! Then one day the poor, starving people started to demand chocolate from your friend. They said "it's not fair! The only reason he has chocolate is because he keeps stealing it from us! Look-we have proof!" (Cue black-and-white security tape of friend commandeering a Hershey truck). They start calling him a tyrant and a thief. And, well, you still love chocolate, but you don't want the people to see how fat you've become from all that delicious, creamy goodness. So you start to distance yourself from your friend. Heck, after a few days you've lost enough weight that you're hanging out with your newfound friends and calling him a thieving tyrant yourself!

Perhaps you haven't had a friend such as this, but the United States of America sure has. And his big fat name is Hossni Mubarak.

Remember when democracy in the Middle East was the foreign policy American dream? Well, it turns out that democracy is a privilege of the chosen few, allowed only if The People can promise to vote in America's interest. Unfortunately the USA has a poor track record of supporting oppressive dictators in the name of its own stability and strategic needs. Then, once their cover is blown (they've been getting fat on chocolate, too!), they are relatively quick to backtrack and denounce their BFF as an oppressive violator of human rights.

This isn't to suggest that Mubarak is not a thieving tyrant who steals the people's chocolate because indeed, he is. It's just that we never seem to blame the friend's friend who got fat on the stolen chocolate (AKA oil, CIA dirty work, War on Terror, Israel, etc.) How can the US be such an advocate of democracy while simultaneously supporting an authoritarian leader who denigrates all notions of democracy?

It doesn't seem too long ago that this nation initiated an all-out war in order to overthrow a dictator and instill democracy. Now how is it that this dictator was so heinous while for 30 years the US administration had been puckering up to Mubarak, an only slightly-less evil version of the aforementioned? And if memory serves us correctly, it wasn't too long ago that Saddam was America's BFF when it was time to fight Iran (circa 1980)...

Ah yes, it seems that democracy is a strategy rather than an ideology for some in the USA. I guess it's time to go on a diet.

Maui Wowie

I spent last weekend lounging childless on the shores of Maui. I attribute my ability to have done this to an awesome husband who, with little-to-no persuasion graciously stayed behind to watch Harper, as well as a very well-connected Lindsay who has a friend with a condo in Kihei, Maui which we were able to use for free.

Although I had prior aspirations of waking early to get some sightseeing in, and staying up late to party hard (Mormon style, of course. Shirley Temples and PG-13 rated movies), we spent most of the weekend tanning our buns on the beach and watching trashy reality shows. And boy was it awesome.

We rented a great little Ford Focus. These are the faces of girls with newfound freedom, filled with endless possibility. Aaaah...


This is how we spent a lot of our time. You may think this was a waste of a perfectly good island vacation opportunity, but keep in mind that we take our babies to the beach every single day. A little Bravo, TLC and Style R & R is exactly what we needed...

We ate delicious Thai food uninterrupted by crying babies knocking over glasses of ice water. As luck would have it, though, we were seated (in a very uncrowded restaurant, mind you) next to a family with a baby and a small child. I think seeing the little ones made us miss our own little ones. But not too much...

Then we stopped by a frozen yogurt place to indulge in pumpkin pie fro yo topped with graham crackers and whipped cream. Yes, the girls went wild indeed...

We spent the second day casually crashing a ritzy Mariott resort, trying to act natural as we snatched the neatly rolled green-and-white striped towels from the hotel's lawn chairs and claimed them for our own.


The facade was short lived. After an hour of basking sand-free, hotel security asked to see our elitist "guests only" bracelets. Needless to say we were cast to the sands like the pilgrims we are.

The last day was rainy and cool, so we packed our stuff and headed to the mall with hours (and I mean hours) to kill before our thirty minute flight back home. Oh, but don't you worry. We found plenty of ways to entertain ourselves, much to the chagrin of many-a-salespeople.




It was a much-needed respite. When I got home, I was half hoping that Rivers would grovel at my feet telling me what a hard job I had in being Harper's primary caretaker. Instead I was told tales of how much fun his weekend was. And I guess this is a good thing.

First is the Worst, Second is the Best, Third is My Rivs so You Betta Recognize.

As Rivers and I sat in the church pews today, I slowly rested my head on his knee and shut my eyes. "I'm tired", I sighed as a pang of guilt simultaneously crept over me. If you're thinking that my feelings of guilt derived from my overtly irreverent display of disinterest at a church service, you would be wrong. The truth is, I was sitting on my lazy butt getting a massage from my husband who happened to have just run a 13 Mile mountain race as I complained of being fatigued. And no, Rivs didn't just run the race. Rivs never just runs, in case you didn't know. Nope, my omni-awesome husband ran off into the sunny peaks of Hawaii's Kualoa mountain range for and hour and twenty minutes to compete in the Xterra Trail Running World Championships. And he came third. That's right, my husband is the third fastest man in the world. Now, some may contest the validity of this claim seeing as no Kenyan, Ethiopian, or non-Western runners competed, by I stand by my man. He was just a couple of minutes behind the reigning champion who happens to be so fast that Montrail modeled a shoe after him. So, that's definitely saying something.

Congratulations Rivers, on being the Third Fastest Human on the planet. Now give me a massage. I'm tired.

Nanny Sue

Having my mum come to visit is always a real treat. It's as thought she's the perfect roommate; she cleans up after herself (and me), she always takes the trash out, she cooks delicious meals and she is really good at entertaining herself. Just give my mum a sidewalk and a sleeping baby in a stroller and she can go off exploring for hours, giving me time to work on my thesis (or catch the finale of America's Next Top Model, which is equally important.)

Harper absolutely adores her. In fact, she's starting to walk to my mum for comfort instead of me (oh yeah, Harper's walking). A few months ago this may have worried me, but I know that once "Nanny" leaves, Harper will love me again. For now, it's so nice to watch her cling to her hot babe Grandma as they gallavant around Hawaii together, eating Frozen Yogurt, harvesting sea barnacles and other fun activites.

Having my mum here also makes me realize how much of a kid I still am. I love that she makes me lunch while being sure that all the food groups are on the plate. I love how she bugs me to go to the dentist. I love how she gives me disaproving looks when I finish my 3rd can of Diet Coke for the day. I love that she's making breakfast before I wake up, just like in High School. And most of all, I love how she kisses my cheek before going to bed.

Yup, I'm gonna miss that ol' Brit when she leaves on Tuesday. Kinda wish she could stay forever.

Research Proposal Take Four

Back in the library again. Feeling like a student once more. It's finally time...

After three topic changes, two deferments and a lot of tanning at the beach, I am finally starting my thesis. It's funny how I've been putting it off for so long, but as soon as my mom comes out to Hawaii, I find myself sitting at a desk in academic mode. I guess mothers never lose their "do your homework" influence.

So, here it is. My final research topic (hopefully). I am going to be examining the extent to which satire news (John Stewart/Colbert Report) has influenced the formatting and content of mainstream broadcast news outlets (CNN/FOX). I'm feeling good about this one, and even if I wanted to change topics, I think my thesis advisor would officially disown me as a mentoree. Without his media research omniscience, I would be lost. And for that sake alone, I will plow through this thesis, page by page until I've written 16,000 socially significant words.

And yes, I've snuck a Rockstar Recovery into the library.

Shhh, don't tell my students...

Loves of My Life

That's all.

First (but really second) Birthday!

Harper's first birthday was way better than her original birthday. You know, the one where she was stuck in a cramped, contracting birthing canal for ten hours only to be pushed out into a cold, iritatingly bright room with tons of masked men speaking a mortal, unintelligible language? Hands down, even if you spent your sixteenth birthday eating a dessertless, balogna sandwich lunch alone in a high school bathroom stall, your original birthday was the worst. With this in mind, I knew that Harper's second First birthday would be her best yet, even with minimal effort on my part.

Of course I still wanted to make the day special. I know it's been said that a first birthday is more for the parents than for the baby, but I think Harper had a really awesome day. I mean, just look at her wake-up face. It's like she knew this was her day.


She really loved her Happy Birthday sign. She kept pointing to it and growling (because that's her #1 form of communication...)


She couldn't wait to open her presents, and was definitely stoked (and not the least bit humiliated) by her obnoxiously flashy headband. I tried to make her wear it all day.



I then made Harper her favorite meal for her Birthday dinner: chicken nuggets and peas. Yup, still wearing the headband...


After her gourmet dinner, we had the usual gang over for birthday cake. Harper had the happiest, most genuine smile the entire time we were singing "Happy Birthday" to her. It was as if she knew we were singing just for her. Then we just let her go buck wild on the cake. She made a few unsuccesfull attempts at eating the cake face-first with not hands, but eventually resorted to the hand-to-mouth method. She almost ate the entire piece!