RSVP

Anna-Lisa: "Ted, tomorrow I am going to Ireland." And then I said it with a Polish accent: "Irlandia"

Ted: "Irlandia? Tomorrow?"

A-L: "Stuart's brother is getting married. We are going to his wedding." And then I marched across the kitchen humming "The Wedding March".

Ted: "Stuart's brother? Finlandia?"

A-L: "Yes, but no. Yes, Stuart's brother, Andrew, but not Finlandia, Irlandia", which now I've decided is the name of a country.

Ted: "How many people?"

A-L: "I think about 150."

Ted: "Big wedding. My wedding, 180."

A-L: "118?"

Ted: "No, 180. We say to 210 people, but 30 say 'no thank you'."

There you have it, folks, the most polite RSVP: 'no thank you', and it must be said in a Polish accent.

Migraine Relief

Stuart had his hand over his eye.

Anna-Lisa: "Do you have a headache?"

Stuart: "No."

A-L: "Do you want one?"

Stuart: "No, but I'd take yours for a while to give you a break, if I could."

And on his birthday he said this. And meant it. What a nice person. Happy Birthday.

Auster-Doyle Syndrome

So the second time that Gemma, of EU political writing fame, e-mailed friends a photo of herself with a famous author, Paul thought there might be something, well, medically awry with her. We briefly discussed the fact that Gemma had forwarded us photos of herself with Paul Auster and Roddy Doyle. Who would be next?

Paul: "Maybe it's like a syndrome, some bizarre illness whereby you function normally in all other aspects of your daily life, but then you are compelled to attend book signings and author talks, have someone photograph you with the author and then boast of the encounter to others. Auster-Doyle Syndrome, maybe."

I've never laughed so hard in my life.

Anna-Lisa: "Yes, it's very sinister indeed. And Paul Auster looked spooky. But I don't know the Doyle man. Do you think there are other Auster-Doyle sufferers 'on the circuit', if you will?"

Paul: "I will. And yes, perhaps thousands. But they each target authors from different genres."

Anna-Lisa: "What's a 'genre'?"

Paul: "It's French for 'province'."

Anna-Lisa: "Do you think Auster-Doyle Syndrome is hereditary?"

Paul: "No. Quit asking stupid questions."

Anna-Lisa: "I don't think we should tell Gemma that we've diagnosed her. I think her feelings will be hurt. And then we can't study her behaviour undetected."

Paul: "But I've never seen you laugh that hard. You can't take the high road now and pretend you weren't a part of this."

Anna-Lisa: "Yes I can, I'm passive aggressive. I was diagnosed by my friend Greg Swartz. He confronted me one day and said, 'Anna-Lisa, you're passive aggressive', to which I replied, 'that's a very passive aggressive tactic, to publicly diagnose another as passive aggressive.' And you are too, Paul. Extremely passive aggressive. I heard Callum diagnose you. I would add to that a Messiah Complex."

Paul: "That's totally incorrect. A Messiah Complex is when someone wants to find a messiah. What you're thinking of is Auto-Messiah Complex, that's when someone thinks that they are the messiah."

Anna-Lisa: "Cite your source."

Paul: "Jesus told me. He works with my dad."

Anna-Lisa: "Cool. Can you ask your dad to ask Jesus where I left my silver earring, please?"

Paul Maria Gemma Hannah

Aila's First Job

It looks like she's ready to go to work at Hot Dog On a Stick.

Niece-O-Rama, Part IX

Let me tell you what happens when you're Annais Katarina, Baby #2: a. Your parents don't take the camera into the delivery room, so there are no photos of your first moments of life, and b. when the baby gifts start rolling in, they put them on Aila. (see super niece sequence at left: Aila in outfit sized 0-3 mos!)

Peter & the Mexicans

Peter is a kid magnet. They are drawn to sit on his lap, and then they close their eyes, in adoration. The Mexican on the right is dear Aila, and on the left is her cousin Aaron (Hector's sister's son). The white man in the middle is Peter. Sometimes called Paappa.

White Space

I don't know how to rid my blog of the silly space between the title and the photo collage of the fabulously chubby and sweet Annais, so you'll just have to bear with it. White space is the new 20. I meant to do it. And that pesky Paul Rollo who might be able to help me delete aforementioned space is gallavanting around Elgin. So Annais will just have to hover in cyberwhitespace for now. Ain't she darlin'? More Warhol-type super-uber art to follow. It's raining, so what else can I do here in Edinburgh?

New job starts Tuesday, July 5th. Fabulous new job. In publishing. In Edinburgh. More to follow.

(White space appears to have disappeared. Please disregard. Note: Paul still pesky, even in absence.)

Quintuplets (oops, I mean Quadruplets)

Annais Katarina x 4

Dora the Explorer

So Aila (the *first* niece) has a special place in her heart for all things Dora the Explorer. She watches the show at daycare, and has two Dora books, a small Dora doll (who she looks for by calling out "Dora, Dora"), Dora slippers, and one of Aila's first words was "packpack", her version of "Backpack", a character from the show.

A couple weeks ago, Aila went to a birthday party for a friend from daycare. A Dora-themed party, no less, and Aila got to take home one of the centre pieces, a Dora the Explorer piggy bank, about a foot tall. So Aila was proudly carrying Dora around the house and Maria was trying to explain that "you can put money in it", which perplexed Aila.

A few minutes later Maria hears the sound of cheap ceramic hitting linoleum, and Aila walks out of the bathroom holding Dora's head.

Now I'm not so sure why I decided to tell this story... oh yeah, because I liked my line.

So a few days later, when we had developed photos and there was one of Aila proudly holding Dora (pre-decapitation), Maria tells Hector about the incident and how Aila walked into the room holding Dora's head, "which had a totally Jagged Edge." And then, for attention, I said that Glenn Close could play Dora the Explorer. And they totally ignored me.

Herr Pope

My very funny friend (funny ‘ha ha’, not funny ‘peculiar’) told me that her very funny (‘ha ha’) father calls the *new* Pope ‘the German Shepherd’. (They’re Catholic, so they can make jokes about the German Shepherd.) So I told this to my mom, who likes a little word play, and very uncharacteristically she seemed to miss the pun (and the fun) when she replied, ‘yes, he does kind of look like a German Shepherd.’ And then she added, ‘the Pope, not her dad.’ Thanks Irma for playing along.

30

Since I'm in L.A., last week I had lunch with Drew (Barrymore), Angelina (Jolie) and Nikki (Taylor). We talked about work, and the pressures of fame, and turning 30. Can you believe we're 30? Nikki wanted to invite Tiger (Woods), also 30, but Drew and Angie were totally against it. I haven't seen him in ages, so I was up for it, but . . . whatever.

So, yeah, it was a nice lunch. Your 30th birthday is kinda like New Year's Eve, because it makes you look back on the past. I did at least. Angie confessed she slept through her 30th because she was on her way to Cambodia to buy another son, or clear some landmines, or something. So she didn't use the day to examine the past 30 years. But I did. I now remember events that happened 25, 26, and even 27 years ago. And it hit me that when my *new* niece is 30, I'll be 60. Hmmm.

So on my birthday I went to see friends Hannah and J.D. at their new house in Venice. Beforehand I stopped at the store to buy a bottle of wine. The cashier looked at me, hesitated, and then unhesitated and said, "I was gonna ask for your I.D., but you look 30." I wish she had re-hesitated. And then Hannah's friend came over for dinner and said "I'll be 30 in September." And before I could say another word, she said, "I know, I don't look 30!" And I do???

And three days later I found a gray hair.

Annual FREE Credit Report

Did you know that we (the American readers) are entitled to one free credit report a year? I didn't. You can get yours at www.AnnualCreditReport.com.

Hospitality

I've read that "Hospitality is the art of making someone feel at home when you wish they really were."

I think Aila wished we were all "at home" when the *new* baby, and me, and numerous cousins and aunts and uncles, and her grandparents, invaded her peaceful life. There were people sleeping in the guest room, on her bedroom floor, on the futon in the living room. And messy boy cousins were messing up her orderly pink bedroom. Aaron and Andy (three and two) had made themselves at home in her bedroom, which meant pulling out ALL the toys and books. Aila walked in and, after surveying the damage, she said only two words: "Uh oh."

And then, when I had been making myself at home in their guest room for about a week, Aila entered to retrieve a red belt of mine (which she calls a "jump rope"). The bed was unmade, there were clothes and shoes here and there, and Aila announced her verdict to us at the kitchen table: "Messy."

Reverse Psychology

My sister has become an expert in reverse psychology since having kids. Two weeks ago when her three-year-old nephew was visiting, Maria pulled an amazing stunt: she confused him with politeness. Aaron had been kicking the ball inside the house, and it was confiscated. He wanted it back. Read on...

Aaron: "Tia Maria, can you get me that ball because I want to play with it and I won't kick it, I just want to roll it? Can you get if for me, please?"

Maria: "No thank you." And walked away.

End of conversation.

Dinner Conversation

(In case you're a new reader, Pete and Irma are my parents.)

Irma: "What would you like to drink?"

Anna-Lisa: "7-UP, please."

Pete: "You can use plastic 7-UP bottles to catch snails."

Anna-Lisa: "Really?"

Pete: "Yeah, it works the same way as a fly catcher. You make an opening that they can crawl into, but one they can't get out of. Farmers will put them near the chicken coop."

Anna-Lisa: "Really?"

Pete: "Actually, a two-liter 7-UP bottle works best." (see here)

Irma: "But I won't buy two liters of anything."

Pete: "Beer is good bait."

Irma: "That's a waste of good beer."

Anna-Lisa: "Can I have another sausage?"

Irma: "We have a creature in our yard that is eating all the snails and leaving empty shells in the planter. I think it's a tree rat."

Pete: "I think it's an opossum because I don't think rats eat snails. Maybe we could raise them for escargot. Remember when Pinky (the cat) caught a rat in the neighbor's yard when we lived in Somis? The neighbors who owned the carnival rides?"

Anna-Lisa: "The O'Connor's? You've got your timeline wrong because they didn't move in until about 1987, and Pinky died when we lived in Germany. Kidney failure."

Irma: "No, it was the neighbors who were from New York and the wife worked as a nurse at Pleasant Valley Hospital."

Anna-Lisa: "The ones whose car rolled down into our yard because they didn't put the hand brake on?"

Pete: "Yes, and when Pinky caught the rat in their yard they told us they only had one rat."

Irma: "Yes, and she was a nurse. I couldn't believe that she would say that. She was a nurse after all."

Anna-Lisa: "Pinky died in 1980. It was Mirri who caught the rat."

Pete: "Well it was one of our cats."

Irma: "That reminds me of the time I was walking Muffin at night and I almost pet an opossum."

Anna-Lisa: "Can I have more 7-UP?"

I wrote a song

Maria's *new* baby cries just like a little lamb. So I wrote a song. Please sing to the tune of "Mary had a little lamb":

Maria had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb,
Maria had a little lamb who looked just like a baby.