Hmm.

Having enough.

In the month since I graduated, it's been a whirlwind of activity, including a trip to California to see family, and now we're making an offer on a house...a fixer-upper on the East side. Yikes. 

I long to update with pictures and reflections and the exciting plans we have involving my career and travel. Agapito procured free vouchers for the family to travel anywhere in the world! Because the girls have never been anywhere (other than Lucero visiting family in Mexico), and because Agapito has never been farther than Costa Rica, we've decided to France and Spain. And my sister is coming! And we'll visit one of my besties, Jane, in London! And I'm trying to convince Agapito we should go to Amsterdam and Edinburgh! And we're going search for Agapito's Basque roots! With what money will we do all of this, you ask? One thing at a time, one thing at a time.

But now I am off to read my brilliant friend's dissertation.

For now, I leave you with this: Why Women Still Can't Have It All.


p.s. Last night I dreamt that I needed to start incorporating the Gibson Girl hairstyle into my repertoire. Which reminds me, I love this hair blog, She Lets Her Hair Down, especially 1960's French Twist tutorial!

Revolving self-portrait

So, I just discovered this amazing gif after falling into a wikihole. It went: heaven--> Gustave Doré's illustration of Dante--> Gustave Doré (who was a looker, in an 1850s sort of way)--> Gaspard-Félix Tournachon.

How wonderful and creepy.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Nadar_autoportrait_tournant.gif

It's a gif made out of this self-portrait series. Oh, humans, how I love you sometimes.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Autoportrait_tournant_Nadar_c.1865.jpg

May in New Orleans

Magdalena and I went to New Orleans last week to be with my mom while we found out some test results. They ultimately proved inconclusive, though definitely more on the positive side of things. 

We also got to attend my niece, Ida's fifth birthday celebration. Ida was born just 3 weeks before Rosalía. That Ida melts my heart. This picture captures her spirit. Now I know what older people mean when they say a child has an old soul. That's what Ida seems like to me.

Turquoise ice cream and chocolate chip cookies.

Ben and friends play Ida some birthday tunes.

"How old are you, Ida?"

And, as usual, my trip was made possible and fueled by lots of PJs iced coffee.

JWS, PhD

I had planned on posting some pictures of me when I started the graduate program, nine, yes nine, years ago. But then I thought it might bum me out because I was so much skinnier. Granted, that first year of grad school was so intensely stressful that I was drinking Ensure because I couldn't bring myself to eat. And my friend Nikki finally confessed to me the other day that I was a little megacephalic at that weight, which made me very happy indeed--not that I was megacephalic, but that I've since rectified the situation.

Anyhow, after much worry that I would not graduate this semester over a piece of paper and last minute scrambling to fed-ex a piece of paper from France to Massachusetts to Austin (a classic Jess move), I was able to turn in all of the necessary paper to graduate. I left the office and had some fellows who'd just turned in their philosophy dissertations take this photo of me doing the longhorns symbol. For some reason I was making it gang-ish?

Longhorns represent.

We went out for steak dinner that night, and Agapito gave me silver longhorn earrings, pictured below. They are the only school-affiliated insignia I've ever sported. Very UT, very Texas. I would say that I've generally eschewed that kind of stuff because I see it as a lesser form of nationalism--doesn't that make me sound thoughtful and deep?-- but the truth is that I've just never cared to come off as the sporty type.  I sort of loathe college football. I even tried attending a game once. I haaated it. Anyway, I love my earrings, and I love that Magdalena is such a merciless carnivore.

We also went camping the week prior. It was the first time ever. It confirmed for me that I'm still not a nature person. I need human artifacts, whether ancient or contemporary, to really avoid feeling empty.  I don't know why nature has always made me feel an overwhelming sense of ennui, but it just does. As Agapito put it, I like attractive landscapes as a backdrop for other activities. Oh, but I do love hiking. Or at least, I love having hiked.

I get by with a little help from my friends...

This week is NUTS, I tell you...NUUUTS! Friday I have to turn everything in to the graduate school so I can finally be a not-that-kind-of-doctor doctor. And naturally, because I am who I am, there's an essential document that "went missing," resulting in a last minute Fed-Exing from France, to Massachusetts, to Texas, in 5 days. Awesome!

And naturally there's a bajillion other things going on: appointments, registrations, traveling, illness, familial drama, etc.

Fortunately, I've got help from this little stinkeroo--

"Oh mother, that's not how you spell 'necessary'!"

"Okay, we're done here! Now go get a job!"

Onward!

My daughter's language ideologies

The other day Lucero and Rosie were cleaning windows and other random surfaces in our apartment...for fun. This is the second time they've done it-- I wonder how long I can keep up this ruse. I remember how much fun my sister and I used to have cleaning windows when we were kids. It just felt so adult to use glass cleaner.

So Lucero says to me: "Mommy, you pretend we're maids and you tell us what to clean." Uh, okay? Felt sorta wrong, but whatever, I'll play. I ask the girls to clean the dirt off the front door. Then Lucero puts on a rural southern white accent as she says, "Well, ma'am, we cleaned the doors and windas and them thar shelves. Anything else we can do fer ya?" I was waiting for her to start whistling Dixie. I wondered if I was hallucinating the whole thing.

Have I ever mentioned the part where I spent a few years of grad school studying popular language ideologies toward non-standard dialects? So Lucero's little shtick was super fascinating to me. Not least of all because my daughters are Mexican-American, and if there's a stereotypical maid in Texas, it's gonna be Mexican/Mexican-American. So I was grooving on the fact that Lucero was shaking it up a bit. I asked her why she'd chosen the accent she had. She said it was just the first thing that came to her. What did I expect? "Well, mom, I was just having fun interrupting typical expectations about race and language, while reifying the correlation between class and blue collar labor."

Anyway, speaking of race and stuff, have you seen the first season webisodes of Awkward Black Girl?! It's so very awesome. I discovered it while reading about the hoopla over the whiteness of the new HBO series Girls over on Racialicious. Girls is about four upper-middle class white girls living in Brooklyn, leading really privileged lives. I watched the first episode because I love Judd Apatow--the producer and director of Freaks and Geeks and Knocked Up, the movie that made me laugh so hard it triggered my labor with Rosie. There were some amusing parts of Girls, but I was shocked that it was such a narrow and already quite well-represented group of people. Plus all the actresses are privileged daughters of mucky-mucks. Yeah, no thanks. I mean, really, there are a lot of untold stories that are going to be interesting to a wide audience. And, something else I found through the same article...have you heard of Stevie Ryan? She's a white actress who does this stereotypical chola shtick called Little Loca. How it is not (a) totally racist, and (b) a crappy chola/chicana accent to boot?

Wildflower highlights

Every single day I think about all the things I want to post here. I want to post about what I think about the whole foofora over supposed French vs. American styles of parenting. About the significance of each of my three daughters' names: Lucero, Rosalía, and Magdalena. About the impending departure of our nephew, Cysko, back west. About Agapito and Lucero's back story. About why, at 35, I realize I still identify with social outsiders and outcasts more than middle-class mainstream America, despite living a relatively conventional life. Starting tomorrow I will have a short break from my academic writing (which includes final dissertation proofs and another article), and then I can windbag away.

This weekend we are taking the girls camping. Fortunately, we're doing it through an organization that provides all the gear, even tents, and we're going with other families from Lucero's Girl Scout Troop. Easy peasy, right? And given that baby Mags sleeps like crap at home, how much worse can it be sleeping on the ground? Famous last words, I know.

 A couple of weeks ago I got my hair done by an acquaintance who needed models in beauty school. I wanted medium brown with subtle highlights, which I've been doing for the last year. Well, my friend's supervisor did the highlights, and they turned out sort of...white. From afar it looked ambiguous between blonde and gray.  So I decided to try "brights," which is basically unnatural colored highlights. I used my old friend, Manic Panic. It had been since my early 20s that I'd used that stuff, and it worked great! We even did a couple of plum strands on Rosie's hair, minus pre-bleaching, so it was sweetly subtle. Unfortunately, hers wouldn't really show up in pics. Here are pics of mine. I used a combo of "violet" which was more indigo, and turquoise.

Easter in The Valley

I have been a crappy poster of late. Magdalena has been sick off and on for a few weeks with a stubborn ear infection, and I was trying to finish an article whose deadline had passed. I finished the article, but now my final final dissertation draft is due on Monday. So this weekend I will be burning the midnight oil while Agapito "enjoys" the company of all three girls solo. Oh, and did I mention we're in the middle of looking for a house? Gulp.  

We went to The Valley last weekend to attend Valerie and Alex's baby shower, and to celebrate Easter with the girls' cousins and grandparents. My favorite part is always the cascarones. They are brightly dyed hollowed-out eggs filled with confetti, to be cracked over unsuspecting nephew's and husband's heads. 

 

The picture below is the girls with their cousins, in the backyard of their grandma's childhood home. This is family related through Vanessa's side (as are all the folks in The Valley).

At this point, Rosie has no awareness that Lucero is "more related" to everyone in The Valley than she is. I wonder if she'll ever have an ah-ha moment, or if it will be something that she doesn't even think about. She's never asked if Grandma and Popo (Vanessa's folks) aren't her "real" grandparents, even though she knows about Vanessa and that they are Vanessa parents. And the girls have never questioned if Nana (my mom) or Grandpapa (my step-dad) are more related to Rosie than Lucero. It's hard to know how they see it, and I don't want to try fix something that isn't broke by probing too deeply. My daughters are just so darn well-adjusted. I'm not bragging. It's really quite puzzling. And I'm not saying it's even my doing. Okay, maybe a little my doing.  Maybe it's because I sit around worrying and analyzing everything enough for our whole family? As Agapito says, I think about everything "6 ways til Sunday."

Speaking of Agapito, here's a picture of him at the baby shower, having just successfully tied his shoe despite the intrusive "baby bump." This is the face he makes when he's accomplished something against all odds, usually with a little skullduggery. For instance, in this case he maneuvered an arm under the pillow, because you know how women are able to just reach through the belly to get to our shoe laces. What I love most is that he looks like he's doing a Greek or Russian folk dance.  

 If I were a rich man, zaddy zaddy zaddy zaddy zaddy zaaaah....

Spring miscellany

It's hard not to be upbeat in the middle of an Austin spring. The whole city is abloom with wildflowers and greenery, and there's a pervasive mist that blurs the edges of plants and trees, creating a sort of Middle Earth effect (though I talked to Agapito about this the other day,  and it turns out I might just need to wear my glasses. Details).

The shoe above is one of a pair I received as a gift for dissertation defense from my mom and Patrick. They are the first pair of fancy shoes I've ever owned--they are Fryes, ooh la la. And they just so happen to look extra superb against the backdrop of bluebonnets (please ignore the ugly thick cuff). Below is a photo of Agapito and me after we took pictures of the girls in the bluebonnets. 

As I've mentioned before, spring is also the time when we have to get all of our outdoor fun in, before evil hot comes. Although we've tried to go hiking in the past, I gave up after causing Agapito to have an allergic reaction at The Wild Basin trail (it's amid the notorious Cedar trees).  

So, why not make things easy and get our outdoor fun in over at Amy's Ice Cream? We met up with Gloria, who's started blogging again over at Mama Tejana, and her sweet kiddos.  The picture of Rosie and Ben kind of breaks my heart. It's so very Texas, in the best way.

Family Style SXSW

I forgot to post these sweet pics from the last Sunday of SXSW. My step-brother, Davis, played a gig at Uncle Billy's BBQ on Barton Springs. It was the perfect way for Agapito and me to experience some SXSW action with the girls--eating BBQ and drinking Shiner on a patio while listening to Davis play songs from his latest album. The older girls are huge fans, and they can even sing along to some of his songs. In addition to playing his own songs, he played a number of New Orleans R&B classics. Too fun.

Dedicated to my friends spending their spring in France

...of whom I am terribly jealous. My friends, Lars and Karen, and their sweet toddler, Naomi, are spending the spring semester in France while he teaches at a university there. He is a linguist and she is an artist. And they make a very attractive couple, and their little girl is beautiful. Really, it's just too much. I bet they'll spend part of their April in...where else...Paris.  *sob* 

I just want to remind them (and myself) of what they are missing by not being in Austin right now, dammit.

So there. And we have vineyards too! :)  See you guys in not too long, I hope!

Take this dorky journey with me.

What got me into linguistics, you ask? The history of English. Actually, it was even earlier, when I was in middle school. One day I was looking up a word in my parents American Heritage Dictionary, and I came across this genetic tree of Indo-European languages.

http://www.best-infographics.com/indo-european-family-of-languages-tree/

I think I sat pouring over that tree for a good hour. But it wasn't until my last semester as an undergrad English major that I feel in love with linguistics, while reading Baugh and Cable's A History of the English Language. So what a treat it was when a couple of my fellow word nerds posted, on FB, this awesome video of people reciting Shakespeare using the Renaissance English pronunciation they have reconstructed. Enjoy! 

Vanity post

I'm doing cartwheels today, because my dissertation revisions have been approved and even complimented. I kinda feel like this dude:

One of the theoretical chapters needs just a little spiffying to be more journal-ish, but it shouldn't take too long. And I'm working on a very fun article on dialect and socio-historical residential patterns in New Orleans. It's due today...it's gonna be a long night. Still, linguist Jess is a happy camper!

In celebration, I am sharing two non-academic beauty-related items: coral lipstick and caring for curly hair! (note: these are just personal endorsements. I get no money for them.)

1. I finally found a coral lipstick that I love. Last year I found the perfect red in the Sephora Lipstain 'Always Red.' The perfect coral has proved more elusive. Beware Pepto Bismol-Pink lips! After a couple of misses, the right coral for me turned out to be L'Oreal Colour Riche in 'Volcanic.' I like pairing it with minimalist eyes: light yellowy gold shadow all over, no eyeliner, and lots of mascara--I love Maybelline Falsies. (For what it's worth, I've got a ruddy complexion, which my friend Melissa generously calls 'English Rose.' On a bad day it's more 'Drunken WASP.')

2. I recently got directed to this excellent website on curly haircare, naturallycurly.com. If you've never visited, it can be overwhelming. Here is a link to a summary of methods. Even better, here are the tips that have radically improve my curls. I have loose curls/wavy hair that curls up with product, and relaxes into waves easily. My challenge, besides frizz, is the lack of body at the root. Too often my hair is flat on top, and drifts outward, creating an isosceles triangle head and a very sad Jess. No es bueno. So here's the new regimen:

• I wash my hair no more than 3 days a week with a sulfate-free shampoo. Sometimes I just scrub with brown sugar. Currently I'm loving Jessicurl. The maker has a really informative site, and her products are awesome and fairly priced. (Some folks use a baking soda scrub followed by an apple cider vinegar rinse, but I found my hair smelled too much like vinegar-soaked ass afterward to be down with that method.)

• I apply conditioner (either lightweight Aloeba by Jessicurl or the richer and floral-scented Honeysuckle Rose by Aubrey), leave it in while I shave or whatever, and then, here's the kicker, I rinse it out with my head upside down! That's when you can comb it or brush it downwards with a denman brush or any other plastic many-bristled brush. 

•  Add some product, either gel or curl cream, to your very wet hair with your head still upside down. Comb through.

• Plop! I lay a pillowcase on the counter or toilet seat, lower my inverted head down so that the wet hair "plops" down into the fabric, and then roll the sides around and tuck. Here's a better explanation with diagrams by the pros, if you have no idea what the hell I was just saying: plopping. 

•  After 10-15 minutes, remove fabric, fingerstyle part, add a little more product of your choice. Either air dry or diffuse. 

It's been a total game changer! Body at the root? Check. Bigger, fatter, shinier curls? Check. Let me also add that my sister totally told me to do all of this last year, but did I listen? No. I owe you a drink, Patina!

Stealthy SXSW

Given that we literally live down the street from where a lot of the SXSW action happens, I feel like a loser for rarely attending events (seeing Big Freedia at the New Orleans Sissy Bounce Show a few years ago was a glorious exception). But, the prospect of schlepping my 3 daughters downtown and seeking out decent free shows is a little daunting (as my step-brother, Sims, puts it perfectly: Somebody always has to poop). So, I cheated and got a little SXSW action in mama-style. We parked in the parking lot of Book People and Anthropologie, which is cater-cornered from Waterloo Records, where bands play non-stop through the festival. First we did a little window shopping at Anthropologie-- which I typically treat as a museum housing expensive artifacts that I really want but can't have--and then we bought some books, gummy bears, chocolates, and beverages at Book People. We took our goodies outside to the picnic table in the parking lot, from where we could hear the band playing across the street and see all the festival-goers walking about (you can see a live stream of musicians playing at Waterloo on their website). It was perfection. I also got to avoid standing around a bunch of 22-year-old hipsters trying to act all mama-chic in the Waterloo parking lot.

p.s. How about that war on women? Kind of a bummer, no? If you've had your fill of the fluffier Jezebel fare on the topic, here's a headier piece, Birth Control McCarthyism, sent to me by my friend Brian.

Cursive

http://www.etsy.com/listing/38164588/cursive-vintage-typewriter-olivetti-for

Did you know that most states have adopted a non-cursive curriculum for our kiddos? A little sad, but I see the sense in it. Cursive is intended to help one write faster. Now that most communication occurs via computers, cursive is an art rather than a necessity. Still, nothing beats the handwritten letter from an old friend. 

Maybe I will tutor my girls in penmanship. Lucero already received some instruction last year (in 2nd grade), but she hasn't done anymore. And I might as well teach them old-school cursive, given that one of my life goals is to master the art of a spidery 19th script. I found this awesome website that has all sorts of examples and practice exercises to master Spencerian penmanship, which is the classic old school handwriting American kids learned in the 19th and early 20th century.

No child steps in the same juicebar twice.

Yesterday, Agapito and I took the girls on a leisurely walk from our apartment down to Juiceland on Town Lake. Walking in urban centers is one of my top favorite activities, and if there's one thing that I like least about Austin, it's the lack of opportunity for city walking. But the day was everything that's best about spring in Austin: flowers in bloom, balmy and breezy, and a smattering of clouds to lend dimension to the sky and filter the light. 

I know, it's boring to go on about how pretty the day was. But you gotta understand, spring is very precious to Austin residents! Just as mid-westerners know that fall heralds bleak days of frigid darkness, we know that spring is the prelude to 5 months of infernal heat, blinding light, and brown dead plants that might ignite at any moment and set your house on fire. One friend likened stepping outside in an Austin summer to standing behind the exhaust pipe of a running car. Austin summers offer few options in the way of family fun: splash parks worrying about skin cancer, lakes and rivers worrying about skin cancer, walking around the mall worrying about the death of your soul, and playing Wii in your apartment having surrendered to the death of your soul. I know, it is sad. I suppose I should be putting on children's plays and reading Dickens aloud as we cozy up next to the freon-scented AC vents. 

So anyway, yesterday was a lovely spring day and we went for a lovely spring walk. It took us about 45 minutes to walk from our place to Juiceland. How far is it, you ask? Well, it probably takes about 10-15 minutes at a normal adult stroll. We took the following picture of the girls in the spot we took their picture a few years ago. Here they are.

Yesterday and a few years ago.