People have been asking me about things, so I'll just answer them. First of all, some people wanted to know whether L'Ailee or I are marching for immigrants' rights. Not yet, though we are very aware that today's Latinos are being treated much differently than, say, Russians in the end of the Cold War era, and it's neither fair nor right. She feels like she isn't needed or wanted when she's tried to contact various groups. We'll keep writing our letters and sending our e-mails, though, for all the good that will do. We don't think much will happen. After all, somebody needs to maintain the golf courses for Mayor Bloomberg and clean out the Representatives' bogs at home...
Yes, I saw American Idol. I'm so glad Taylor danced again. The song was so perfect for him, too. I hope Ace is voted out. Anyone who can mess up "We Will Rock You" doesn't deserve to take up valuable stage space.
Today, one of my friends figured that the perfect job for me would be writing the blog for the National Zoo's panda, a/k/a Butterstick's Big Ol' Baby Blog. Little Tai Shan, who just turned nine months old, does get most of the attention, and his keepers write about him in all the loving detail many proud parents of much-wanted firstborn babies might given an international readership of thousands. (Tai Shan is the National Zoo's first panda cub to survive for more than a few days.) However, I think it would be extraordinarily difficult work. Because children read it for education and entertainment, and they love pandas too, it has to be made pretty much G-rated, even when the subject is something like mating season. Of course, the minutes of fun Butterstick has with his own little personal toy must be omitted. The pandas don't care what is written about them, but their fans certainly do--when the anonymous blogger noted that keepers referred to their active, curious, mischievous, stubborn cub as the "little monster", they got many e-mails of complaint. (Don't know about y'all, but I haven't been able to raise a kitten up yet without using that phrase!) It's obvious that they don't think Tian Tian, the daddy panda, is the brightest crayon in the box even by panda standards, but they can't come out and say that the panda village called 'cause their idiot's missing. Even things like Tai Shan eating flowers or hiding under his tub are curiously missing. No, if I got the job, I don't think I'd keep it very long at all. :-)
Okay, and now it's time to answer..."What is it like to share a gynecologist with your wife?" Found that out at a lunchtime appointment today. I have to admit, that question makes me feel very 21st-century indeed. Over the past couple of days, we were comparing notes like two kids at the principal's office: "Okay, what all did you tell her?" "Do you really think that will come up?" Because my reticent L'Ailee would sooner shave her head than divulge a ton of personal details to a doctor*, I knew I'd have to get our stories straight, no pun intended. She feared that I'd be telling her an entire Penthouse Forum's worth of stories, which is not, as y'all know, an altogether baseless fear on her part. The thing is, I don't tell the gynecologist everything, but I do think that, for example, it's helpful for her to know that I have cake toppers** and know how to use them, the same way that I'll admit my love for cheese when my cholesterol's bordering on high. The bad part, for me, is that at this point in my life, what I say for myself also goes for L'Ailee, pretty much. I am telling two stories in one now.
But it wasn't as weird as we feared. No "Wow, she didn't tell me *that*," no "oh, she does that, too!" She did say we're the first couple she's ever treated, though she's had sisters and mothers-and-daughters for patients. It occurred to me, on the table, that if we lived in a small town, that might have been our only option anyway. But we don't, so all our friends laughed when I told them about it. I'm just glad I don't have any new stories. Instead, I think I have my first decent NYC gynecologist, which is ever so much better, really.
*Yes, I know. That's L'Ailee's joke on herself, adapted for my purposes.
**Another term from the MessageBoard of Love, same meaning as "BOB" or "Battery-Operated Boyfriend," only a bit more inclusive, I think. Like it?