This is really creepy...how did my photo (of me during labor) end up on this website?

Today, while digging through my coin pouch to find 34 cents, I came across a weird looking penny. Upon closer inspection, I learned it is a 1902 Indian Head penny. I just googled to see how much richer I am: this coin is worth ONE-HUNDRED TIMES its original value!!!!!!

The thing about flickr...it's a universe of links in which you can easily get sidetracked, and then lost in a tangent of clicking. And before you know it, even a meager number of clicks can take you from, say, here to here. I'm still trying to backtrack through my browser history to figure out how this happened. (Side note: clicking through networks like flickr is almost like anthropological spelunking. There exists this subgroup of people who all obsess over these same things?)

Today, Maxine turned one. Yesterday, she took her first real walk. She had been taking 2 steps here and there, but yesterday was the first time she walked across the room.

Instead of paraphrasing an email to family that I just wrote, I will just post that email:

maxine turned 1 today. apparently, steve started walking ON his 1st birthday. maxine had to 1-up her dad and start truly walking the day BEFORE her 1st birthday.

it was no big surprise that steve and i had nothing planned for her birthday, so in typical fashion, i was running all over the neighborhood (while the sitter was watching her) to get maxine some fun stuff (cupcakes, presents, card). I was also zigzagging in and out of a bunch of other stores, the bank, the big post office doing errands for steve, myself, maxine. This is important to note, because I made a LOT of stops, going into many places I probably only go into a couple times a year. along the way, i slipped and sprained my ankle pretty seriously and then joked out loud that i needed a doctor. hobbling home--totally bundled up in a completely black, outfit that looks like everyone else's winter uniform, and wearing a hat that covers my eyes--i ran into a doctor. actually, she was calling my name; she was bundled up, too, so i would never have recognized her if she didn't call out to me. this wasn't any doctor, this was my OB, the one who delivered maxine! we don't see each other outside of the bi-annual checkups, so it's a small miracle that she even registered who i was, the last time i saw her was over 6 months ago, and the hospital is a pretty far walk from where she was taking her break (she says she loves walking out in the cold). she asked how maxine was, and i told her, 'believe it or not, she was born 1 year ago, almost exactly to the hour.' she was equally impressed with how well-timed our bumping into each other was.

what does this mean? i dunno, but it's pretty cool ;) (btw, yesterday i went to a couple of food markets, and my totals were $11.11 and $7.77. the 7.77 cashier told me to play the lotto.) seems like i'm on some kind of streak.

Last night, Steve and I consciously made a 'poor judgement call' and took Maxine with us to a rock concert at Beacon Theater. Why on earth would we do this, other than just being lame and not finding a nighttime sitter? Because huge loyalty to Glen Hansard and The Frames clouded our ability to think rationally--and now that we are big fans of his extremely talented girlfriend, Marketa Irglova, we just had to be a bit selfish and BOTH go see them perform as the band The Swell Season (even though we just saw them at The Blender in July and at Webster Hall in September). It wasn't AC/DC loud, but Glen loves AC/DC. Also, with the Beacon being a seated venue--which is usually a plus at singer-songwriter shows--it made us feel even more uneasy about bringing in a squirmy 11-month-old loudmouth at 9.30 pm who without fail begins to cry for my boob at about 10.30 pm on the dot. It didn't help that the theater is big with no bar lounge to escape to = lots of potentially irritated fans, or that there were no other kids to be seen anywhere--even out on the street. When we entered the theater, jaws dropped (though the security and stage folk didn't bat an eyelash). We entered clutching our weakly-thought-through tote bag of baby distractions, I didn't look anyone in the eye and sweated bullets, and definitely did not expect her to just sit there for 2 hours straight--but the gods were watching us, and she did! She sat still and silently, and even enjoyed the show, affectionately looking up at us from time to time to smile or touch our faces. This kid never falls asleep before 11 pm, but in the middle of the show, at the loudest point (I had ear protection for her), another miracle happened--she fell asleep. I guess in order to work, the white noise has to be turned to 'high.' P.S. Even though we had a great experience with Maxine's first rock concert, we will not try this again. It's not very comfortable sitting there holding a time bomb when you're not sure when or if it will detonate. P.P.S. The show was AWESOME. That middle piece where Glen was attacking his guitar strings...a-mazing.

I just received a general mass email from a painter reminding his fan base that he's still out there painting--I am on his fan list because I purchased a couple of his paintings at a Giant Robot exhibit early this year. Anyhow, I went to his website to look around at his other work. In his gallery, he has posted all his works from past shows. Clicking on the Giant Robot show portfolio, I came across thumbnails of the paintings I bought. It lists them as belonging to the collection of Jean Lee. I quite like the rarified ring of that--it implies that I am an art collector, which also carries the implication that--as an art collector--one is truly an adult. :)

Maxine was a hot dog for her first Halloween, but she was not happy about it at all. There was no tantrum during the time that we suited her up and pushed her out to the Cobble Hill Park children's parade. She just sat there in her stroller--unsmiling, disinterested and seeming truly bummed out. Usually, she loves being out and among other people. But today, I really do think she felt like a dork in her costume and was embarrassed by it. I have a feeling it will come back to haunt me when she's in that stage when all girls hate their mothers. But, I'll deal with the consequences because she was too cute as a hot dog to skip her first bout of public humiliation.