oh, hi. now where was i?

"i think there's a bigger difference between people who have kids vs. people who don't have kids than there is between democrats and republicans." -jon stewart

so this was stated in the context of making a point that our political views don't divide us as much as the media would like us to believe, but given my new parental status, i got hung up on the former part of the idea. a year ago i would have said NO EFFING WAY. now, i can kind of get my head around it. and although i'm not entirely willing to believe i have much in common with someone who doesn't support the right to marry, the right to choose, or the right to healthcare, it does accurately acknowledge the supreme significance of the metamorphosis that has gone down in the castillo ryznar house this year... and that goes down in households every single time a first baby is born. i can respect it now, with every fiber of my being.

when someone asks, 'so how is it being a parent?' we tend to keep the responses bite-sized, much akin to answering 'how's it goin?' but if i was gonna get all confucius (and totally honest) on you i would clumsily rip off a quote i read somewhere and say that having a baby is experiencing reincarnation within your own lifetime. or in my words, 'it's like, the biggest thing that has ever happened to me.'

so all you cuckoo parents, grandparents, and random baby-obsessed others: you win. babies really are magic and justify every second of the hullabaloo. i'm slow-clapping at you today, and... at, errr... me.

killing time

work's wrapped up. holidays are over. just waiting for gary. limitations: it feels like someone has attached a bowling ball filled with 2-3 squirrels to my abdomen with an ace bandage. tightly, but poorly. so "getting dressed" and "doing stuff outside the house" is a lot of work and usually better just avoided at this point.

i look out the windows a lot. fortunately, we have a fantastic view of all of los angeles. just as good as the one at griffith park observatory, yamashiro japanese restaurant, or the getty center. not bragging... i once lived a whole year in a non air-conditioned efficiency above a garage with a sole view of the rich neighbor's sparkling aqua pool. i've earned this. what makes the view even better now is that i received a telescope for christmas! for "stargazing". but who are we kidding, there ain't no stars in the LA sky. so i've been narrowing in on who's picnicking on gravesites at the forest lawn cemetery, the christmas tree on top of the capitol records building, and what's happening in the mc donald's drive-in on fletcher avenue and san fernando blvd. i haven't worked up much of a desire to spy on neighbors yet, but i am sure that'll come. if there wasn't a hill between us, we would have been able to see who was cutting a rug at our friend's new year's party we didn't make it to lastnight. ironically, the blue moon was on the wrong side of our house til well past midnight, so i didn't even get to see it. nonetheless, the telescope is one of the greatest gifts i've ever received. just looking at it on our balcony makes me happy. it gives me a sense of secret power.

more to come in telescopic observations. do i need a baby or what?

the end

any day now this baby i have been growing since april is going to come out, and i have been blessed with some serious quiet time to reflect on what that all means. i'm excited. i'm scared. i'm exhausted. i'm emotional. i'm disconnected. i'm ready.

i never thought i would ever feel ready, but it's not even 'ready' in my natural sense of the word. turns out, most of my assumptions on what happens next in life and how that is going to feel are not necessarily dead-wrong, but totally unimagined. and that makes me feel an excitement about life i really needed.

right now i am reading the latest chuck klosterman roundup of deep thoughts, and he proposes the theory that we are physiologically happier when we don't know what's about to happen. by that logic i should be jumping out of my skin with elation right about now. i would say i am in some kind of anticipation fog where time is almost standing still, which is sometimes pleasurable, sometimes miserable, but undeniably present.

so the baby stayed in until 2010, which is great cause we have better insurance now. i think i am subconsciously giving him the go ahead to come on out now... maybe wait til tomorrow so i can get the last of the laundry done... but it's down to days now, and the real-o-meter just went up to 11.

i'll light the fire...

this month's move marks the 20th residence I have inhabited. i've lived in guest houses, tree houses, garage lofts, victorian flats, studios, efficiencies, spare rooms, dorms, other peoples' bedrooms, and seriously considered one of those huge playhouses for insanely rich peoples' children during a particularly desperate time in my mid-twenties. not kidding, i've pictured a few below. they are insulated, climate-controlled, and incredibly rad.

























































i had a memorable amount of fun imagining my 26 year old self living in one of these out in the woods, on the beach, or in someone's backyard.

but that's neither here nor there (pregnant brain, please excuse). the point of this entry was to reflect on the only house that really got into me... the house we just moved out of over on walcott way. more importantly than all the wonderful physical features of living in what could be thought of as gordon lightfoot's hideaway on a crazy windy hill surrounded by crazy windy neighbors, there were so many life-defining moments happening inside as well. lots of milestones and lots of love. our landlords once told us that the house used to be something of a drug den back in the 70s, which made me feel like our old house had seen some scary and neglectful times. it felt good to breathe some real joy back into it. in all my 20 residences, i've never felt a house's soul until living at ol' walcott way. i suppose the house was a metaphor for the transformation happening in my own life. whatever the case, it really affected me to see it emptied of our things and back to the boards and nails it once was.

aw man! i'm getting sad now. another awesome playhouse to cheer me up:
















here's lookin' at you, walcott way, for housing our hearts for awhile.

maternity clothes racket

it's no different than any other consumer racket to get you to buy stuff you don't really need (stretchy jeans aside), but because you are pregnant you suddenly have zero tolerance for it and (if you are me) have no problem telling them so. no joke, the saleswoman actually said to me, 'what do you normally wear?' in a tone that suggested i'll need assistance differentiating underwear from sweaters because these garments are all slightly roomier in the stomach and therefore like nothing i have ever encountered. she went onto explain to me the intricacies of maternity sizing: if you are normally a "small," then you would still buy a "small." when i told her i would be fine browsing on my own, she gave me that 'okaaaaay' that really says, 'don't come crying to me when a tag says ankle length and you don't know what to do!' ironically, i received zero assistance as i carried around an armload of heavy jeans looking for the dressing room. but not to fear, they were back again as i checked out, offering me everything from blood-cord banking (yeah, i'm at the glendale galleria. this seems like a good time to sign up for vital organ storage) to registering for an account in which to start my baby's college fund (now that i have overpriced pants to fit over my ass, let's buckle down and get serious about paying for USC!) seriously i think i said 'no thanks' 5 or 6 times before i dropped the 'thanks,' maybe a 'nope' and an 'uh-uh' for variety before the questioning finally came to an end. fittingly, i left my first trip to pea in the pod empty-handed, because the one offer they couldn't give me was the one advertised for the jeans that i was buying. turns out they forgot to take the 'sale' sign down and the jeans were actually fifteen dollars more. never has it been easier to say, 'you know what? you guys have no handle on your demographic,' take back my credit card, and walk out the door. as i made my way over to mrs. field's cookies i realized, unfortunately, i still needed those damn stretchy jeans–desperately–and so i went back on a weekday when i knew different salespeople would be there. they still offered me the blood-cord banking, they still got my hard earned extra fifteen dollars. but the lesson's not lost on me: not unlike a cookie break, some victories are short but pretty dang sweet.

i'm a published photog!

well, to clarify: i submitted some enthusiast shots of LA to a friend who was putting together a book inspired by the weather in LA, and some of them made the final cut... one shot even making the cover! lots of creative folks contributed to the book, and priced at $9.99 it can be yours for a song.

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/80andsunny/7383513

no comment.

i took the comment option off my blog. when you're a small-time blogger, at some point you realize it's never going to give you the validation comment sections are meant to provide.