Wrap it up

Best of 2010:

• Music: John Legend and The Roots, “Hard Times” Nearly OD’d on this one long drive to Leesburg and back.
• TV Show: Sherlock Holmes.  Cumberbitches, unite!
• Movie: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World Also winner of best soundtrack
• Book: The Internet is a Playground by David Thorne. Yeah, it came out in December 2009 but I just realized that I don’t believe I read a single book published this year.  The implications of this are staggering.  Note: the local libraries will attest that I have not given up reading entirely.  Just the purchasing of new books.  For myself.
• Magazine: Granta 112 (Granta: The Magazine of New Writing).  At least, I assume it is.  I now have three copies but I haven’t had a chance to read more than one story.
• CD: Matador at 21
• App: Angry Birds
• Podcast: David Mitchell’s Soapbox
• The Oatmeal: Ten Reasons to Avoid Talking on the Phone
• My Milk Toof: Special Delivery
• Wondermark: In Which a Spoiler is Alerted
• BBC News: Past Scottish Voices
• Damn You Auto Correct: Good lord, take your pick
• World Cup Moment: US vs. England
• Letters of Note: Mohammed Ali

Do I have more to list?  Yes.  Do I have energy and time to do so?  No.  P’raps Gojira will grace us with a few 2010 thoughts of her own.  I’m off.  Happy New Year!

Mommy, will you read me a story?

wondermark, stop spying on us and recording our lives in comic form!

click bibliophibians to embiggen

From my great-grandfather on down, I come from a long line of bibliophibians.  Growing up, I frequented the local library and then, when I had my own cash, the bookstores – well, bookstore singular; I don’t recall there being more than one at the Green Tree Mall.  It seems my genetically-encoded reading tendencies have been passed along to the next generation.  ZP can already read (small words and big) and AP is well on her way (at least when she pretends to read, she has the cadence down pat).  We’ve already graciously donated several shelves on the various bookcases around the house to their books.  Some books are hand-me-downs from their cousins and faux-cousins.  Some can be read in the bath.  Some were gifts by people who know us and our tastes well and carefully choose books with more thought behind the selection than “this is in the kid’s section so it should be good”.  We’ve got scads of classics already and our libraries have a fair share of decent books too but lately, I’ve begun coveting “indie” children’s books.  Here is a sample of books on my wishlist … you know, for the kids:

• It’s a Book by Lane Smith, clever author of another book The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales which I owned pre-children and have given as a gift as well.  I mean, come on.  The book has its own trailer.
• Interrupting Chicken by David Ezra Stein, based solely on the Barnes and Nobel salesperson’s recommendation after watching me caress like-minded books.
• The Pigeon Has Feelings, Too! by Mo Willems because both kids enjoyed Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late!, and The Pigeon Wants a Puppy which has amusing drawings, clever writing, and a great use of space; but mostly because it allows them to shriek “NO!” to the pigeon and then laugh at his pouting and anger and tears.
• Scaredy Squirrel Has a Birthday Party by Melanie Watt coming out next year.  The other Scaredy Squirrel books were an enormous hit, especially Scaredy Squirrel at Night whose cover has a tremendously attractive feature of a glow-in-the-dark smile which is (a) fun and (b) a perfect segue to bedtime because it requires turning the lights off
• Monkey vs. Robot by James Kochalka.  Read the title.  Need I say more?
• Polkabats and Octopus Slacks: 14 Stories by Calef Brown based solely on dooce’s recommendation.  Well, maybe the appearance of Señor Pulpo has something to do with it too.

Where the Sun Really Don’t Shine, Like, Ever: In Which Baji and Gojira Are…Blah Blah Blah (Days 4 and 5)

Day 4: I Dream of Haleem. Baji begins the day with a cup of hot coffee, three of Dr. Praeger’s Potato Pancakes and cinnamon french toast. Gojira wakes up to discover that she has contracted meat face, a condition that results from the overconsumption of meat and manifests itself in red splotches upon one’s face. (Meat face is commonly accompanied by meat body, also contracted during this vacation.) A failed attempt to go beachcombing at Manasota Beach due to high winds and cold temps nevertheless results in a handful of shark’s teeth for Gojira to use to replace her own teeth when the time comes. We seek warmth in the form of mochas at neighboring Venice Beach.

Cures What Ails, or Chills, Ya

Throwing caution to the wind, we try out a strip mall Thai restaurant, where Gojira politely excuses herself before spitting out a dumpling not to her liking.  Just to be bossy, Baji insists on following tradition and makes Gojira pick out her own mug at the Goodwill store and makes TP pay for it. Back home, TP exercises, Baji naps and Gojira downloads Scottish-accented apps.

The kids are afforded an opportunity to participate in the $2 per bag bonanza at the library but instead hit the computers for some game time. Baji and Gojira carefully select another bag’s worth of books to donate to the retirement community’s clubhouse library and include an inscription in each one.

Two out of two Bajira!s recommend this reading

Baji makes black bean soup which nicely complements the meat dish Nani made for us. ZP asks, “Auntie Gojira, can we play hide and seek ten times?” Gojira assents and ZP counts them off, telling Gojira where to hide each time and squealing in terror each time Auntie Gojira finds him (even though she is the one hiding). After the tenth time, ZP asks, “Auntie Gojira, can we play hide and seek twelve times?” Gojira suggests lounging time instead and is rebuffed. Baji remains safely hidden for the duration. After the kids and grandparents are asleep, we netflix. We have our doubts while watching I Am Alan Partridge, but then the references to 20-foot chickens and ladyboys cocktails win us over.

You farmers, you have great big sheds that no-one’s allowed to go in, and inside those sheds you have 20 foot chickens! And the chickens are scared because they’re so enormous, and they say “why am I so big?” and they look down and see all the other normal-sized chickens, and they think they’re in an airplane.

Day 5: Meat Face Flies Away. Baji starts the day scrounging around for the amazing cream-filled Italian doughnuts Gojira brought over but forgets that she gobbled those things up ages ago. Gojira starts the day with 12 pieces of french toast or thereabouts, one piece of banana bread, one potato pancake, and half a paratha. A light breakfast (and totally vegetarian!). She scares the children one last time, then Baji and TP take her to the airport. TP and Baji morosely find ways to fill their Gojira-less time by buying some car seats, going to Jummah/napping respectively, and playing tennis/watching tennis respectively. Gojira has developed Meat Scalp and has not eaten since. TP and Baji are eating broth for the next ninety days (depending on what your definition of “broth” and “ninety” is).

Did Bajira! turn their award–winning blog into a BBC miniseries starring Colin Firth and a cheeky monkey? Did Baji finish writing Good Fishing in Florida: The Musical? Did Gojira drive off a cliff? We’ll never know, because we’ve reached the end of our travelogue (though most of you know that Gojira can’t drive, on or off cliffs, and that Baji refuses to write any musicals without assistance from Joss Whedon).

Where the Sun Really Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Gojira Are Baji and Gojira (Days 2 and 3)

Day 2: Breakfast and Books Bonanza. As promised, Nani makes Gojira a mountain of buttery pancakes and true to her name, Gojira eats the mountain (her own) as well as the little hill abutting it (the beasts’). Then throughout the day, when no one is looking (and also when they are), she sneaks more pancakes from the fridge. ZP asks Gojira what her sister’s name is and when Gojira tells him that her sister is a brother and his name is Graxenheimer Schnitzel the Third, ZP says, “That’s a silly sister.” Indeed, ZP, indeed. AP tries to hobble Gojira to prevent her early departure by smashing Gojira’s foot with a basket of eggs. Concerned, AP takes the eggs to the local cardiologist, who is playing minigolf in the next room. He declares them bad for her cholesterol but good for the adorableness pageant.

With the threat of thunderstorms turning out to be empty, we return to the Jacaranda Public Library a few minutes after it opens and attack the book sale, where you can fill up a plastic bag with books for just $2! We each fill up a bag and have a grand old time, taking pictures of the sign for “Adult Videos” (consisting of videos about World War II) and of us with Wagamama Lackawanna Jacaranda eyes (you had to be there, and by “there” we mean “Ireland” and by “you” we mean “we”). TP reports that he is enjoying the country club’s tennis courts and so we go to Fatty Starbuckles and drink some caffeinated beverages while reading our books, one of which is the all-time classic  Good Fishing in Florida with a supremely useful author‘s note:

Rube Allyn’s Advice

Visit consignment store in attempt to find a sweater for AP in light of the inhospitable cold spell we are subjected to.  Return home, where Gojira is forced to speed-read  A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian because Baji will take it later. Gojira multitasks by devouring the book and a bowl of keema, which she washes down with mango lassi. In the evening, TP exercises while Baji and Gojira lounge around on the couch until bedtime during which we lounge around watching Lost. Baji patiently endures Gojira’s questions: Who is Jacob? Which past-future is this? What is that on Claire’s head? Did you know that those “Iraqi” goons just said, “Dost thou want to come with me?” Sawyer loved who?!

Day 3: Sushi! Also pancakes. Baji, TP and Gojira go to the outlet mall and look for a can opener. TP finds a shirt, a belt, and some kickin’ kicks; Baji finds a jacket and a styling yellow ensemble for AP; Gojira finds some underwear. Using the food court’s free wi-fi, we hem and haw over a place for lunch and finally decide upon Bonefish Grill, where we are cruelly denied entrance seeing as how they don’t open until 4 pm. Driving aimlessly and hankering for fish, we spot a sign for a sushi place at a local strip mall near the airport. Screeeech! But first we have to convince TP that mall sushi is clearly going to be safe and good and amazing.  In fact it is, and later he pretends it was his idea. We applaud Kumo Japanese Steak House and Sushi Lounge and mark it for future visits.

Tempura Tower awaiting destruction by Gojira

Later we buy more chips and eat them in the car as an appetizer for our meaty meat meat dinner (spinach and gosht and leftovers). Inhale Häagen-Dazs chocolate ice cream while thoroughly enjoying Julie & Julia (particularly when we draw similarities to our own cooking—”poaching an egg is not that hard!”; “living with her must be exhausting”; “I hate cutting onions like that”—and blogging). Agree that we like Julia better than Julie.

And then what happened? Did Bajira! commit aggravated philanthropy on a group of defenseful senior citizens? Did we plaster Lil Baji’s room with posters of Robert Pattinson? Did one of us contract a rare tropical disease? Some of the answers and more tomorrow!

Where the Sun Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Gojira Are Reunited (Pre-Day 1 and Day 1)

Pre-Day 1: Reunited and It Feels So Good. Baji travels to Sarasota in the company of a charming scared-of-flying-so-snacking-throughout Canadian who reveals her admirable frugality by explaining how she drove to Buffalo and flew for $300 rather than departing from Toronto for $900. Baji is pleased with her fellow canjoose traveler. The next day, Gojira lands in Sarasota and is greeted by Baji, Baji’s snazzy hairdo and TP. Baji, Baji’s snazzy hairdo and TP are in turn greeted by Gojira and Gojira’s snazzy hairdo. First things first: We buy some arrabbiata chips and blackened pretzels for which Sarasota is famous. Then we eat them in the car. We see an unbelievably enormous planet-sized yellow moon and consider whether we are driving to the house or have ended up on a movie lot where we will be threatened with expulsion or, worse, get hit on the head by a boom mike. We go home to our retirement community off Jacaranda, which is not Lackawanna, where Gojira gets to see the beasts, highly smushable and cute as always. Baji looks on with fondness from a safe distance in hopes that they will accept their new mommy while old mommy seeks refuge on the couch. With her feet up. And without being on high alert in case of attack or demands. Bliss and meat (haleem and keema with a side of bhindi) for all.

Day 1: Florida Pretends to Be Sunny. Sous-chef Baji preps the makings of the Spanish Tortilla and Chef TP assembles and plates it. Breakfast contentedly consumed, we make plans for lunch. Today turns out to be the only really sunny day and fortunately we spend the majority of it outside.  A 40-minute drive turns out to be an hour and a half due to the unexplained stand-still traffic but we finally make it to St. Armands.

Señor Pulpo after having spent too much time in the alleged Florida sun

Lunch at Crab and Fin with Señor Pulpo and his pals, followed by gelato and cafes at Le Macaron (not to be confused with El Maricón).  We saunter and wander and meander around the circle until we collapse at incomprehensibly soft-sanded Lido Beach, where Gojira makes a sandboot, Baji makes a sandhigh-heel that doubles as a cast and TP makes a face. Gojira and Baji lie in the sun and listen to several Ricky Gervais podcasts while intermittently breaking the silence with fits of giggles and repetition of what Karl Pilkington said, which makes us miss what Ricky and Stephen JUST said and so we rewind and laugh all over again.  “Just pop it on your wrist!” is trotted out on several occasions whether or not it is appropriate at the time.

With extra kid-free time still allotted, we hit the Goodwill bookstore but are offended by their “half off the cover price” gouging and attempt to salvage the scavenger hunt for cheap books at the Jacaranda Public Library instead.

“I’ve had it up to HERE with your … (air quotes) RULES!”

Apparently our citified ways don’t play well here and we are chastised for attempting to purchase anything at the book sale at 4:45 pm when the library closes at 5 pm. We seek and find solace in meat (Italian meatballs and more haleema) and flan.

And then what happened? Was Gojira attacked by the precursor of a 20-foot chicken? Did Baji attempt to buy books with a heretofore unheard-of “twenty” dollar bill? Is Locke really dead and what’s up with Claire’s hair? Find out tomorrow, when our exciting non-adventure continues!

You Get a Beard! You Get a Beard! Everybody Gets a Beeeeeaaarrrdddd!

It has come to Bajira!’s attention, via WordPress’s statistics-tracking system, that David Malki ! is Oprah.

Accordingly, Bajira! would like to thank Oprah for choosing us as one of the ten lucky recipients of Clever Tricks to Stave Off Death. We shall treasure it always until court-ordered to stop, after which we shall treasure it sporadically.

A Wondermark Bibliogenealogy ™

[click to enlarge]

Legal disclaimer: Only low-level, nonviolent Google searches were performed in order to create the above. No Malki !s were harmed in the undertaking of this project, although an otherwise perfectly good Saturday was sacrificed. By clicking on the above, you acknowledge that you are over or under or at the age of 18. You further acknowledge that 50 percent of Bajira! is a lawyer and 50 percent knows a lawyer and so you had better not mess with Bajira!.

In which my life is, once again, reflected accurately and more cleverly in a Wondermark comic

I have never been able to pinpoint exactly what the attraction is (because if I could, I would go to great lengths to counteract it) but for some inane reason, TP loves to draw my attention to something that he makes out to be wonderful or interesting or amazing but actually turns out to be hideous or grotesque or vomit-inducing.  Not regular vomit.  The kind that burns behind your eyelids and comes out of your nostrils.  Examples:

• Shopping at an Asian grocery store: “I think we are out of these.”  [I foolishly pay attention and see him holding up a bag of sliced pig feet]
• Walking through the zoo: “Wow, that kid looks just like you!” [Anticipating an adorable brown girl with lightness in her step and a sunny smile and instead laying eyes on a fat, freckled, red-haired kid loudly weeping over the loss of a toppled over ice cream cone]
• Handing me something pulled out of the microwave: “Here, you’ll love these homemade nachos.” [Almost gag on the smell of melted Gorgonzola when he knows I can’t abide bleu cheeses]
• Pointing in a direction completely opposite of one I’m facing: “Oh man, look at that!” [Twist around to look quizzically at nothing of particular note only to realize he’s just pointing out a regular boring old dog/flower/tree]

And so, once again, I must share the following to illustrate the above and to be steely in my resolve NOT to look the next time it happens.  Behold, the latest Wondermark:

In which a Diversion fails to impress