Dec
14
A bunch of hot air
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December 14, 2006
Ooh, thank you so much for your suggestions! What would I do without you guys? Wander the earth, alone and ill-read, sporting unattractive raccoon eyes, that’s what.
I particularly enjoyed all your book recommendations, and I’d love to see some kind of conceptual data model (the kind with overlapping circles, what are they called…Venn diagrams?) of the various book titles so we could see all the common themes. It’s oddly fascinating to know so many of you have read Seabiscuit, Time Traveler’s Wife, and Lamb: The Gospel.
I’m going to (nerdily) collate your recommendations together and next time I’m at the bookstore or library I will be PREPARED. And I can kick the copy of “The Emotional Life of the Toddler” off my nightstand because seriously, it’s great and all to understand my child might be internally conflicted with feelings of attachment and independence, and that’s why he’s eating a rock, but I can only take so much toddler navel-gazing. Unless of course we’re talking about his actual navel, which I could happily stare at all day long.
(It’s a combo outie/innie! And it demands a blowfart at least once per day.)
Seattle is supposed to get some kind of massive windstorm this evening, which I’m not looking forward to because we had some high winds yesterday that dropped all kinds of tree detritus on the roof, scared Dog, and resulted in an hours-long interruption of cable service, which wiped out our internet connection, phone, and TV in one fell swoop (hilariously, we received a flyer in yesterday’s mail reminding us “THAT’S COMCASTIC!” Bite my dong, Comcast). It was like living in the DARK AGES, OMG. I’m kidding, but it was surprisingly annoying to have the internet down – it’s a little freaky how much I rely on it for everything from movie reviews (IMDB could have possibly saved us from World Trade Center, which in my opinion was schmaltzy, formulaic, and entirely unemotional despite all the heavy-handed sentimentality. Also, Nicolas Cage in a semi-porny mustache = disturbing) to recipes to fact-checking to good old fashioned websurfing (IE, the list of worst toys ever made).
High winds are always bad after a shitload of rain, so I hope this storm passes with relatively little damage. Also, I hope the local news refrains from calling it WINDSTORMWATCH 2006, but I won’t hold my breath. Those of you who live in the area, what do you want to bet some poor fucker is hunched over a copy of Photoshop right now, furiously working on a properly dire image to accompany the weather updates tonight?
In other news, the boy had a checkup yesterday and he’s at the 50th percentile for weight, 75th for height, and 90th (again) for head size. I fear he will have to wear custom-made hats someday.
His doctor ran through a list of various developmental questions – is he talking a little, is he walking, blah blah, and then she asked if he was stacking things. I lied and said yes, because I felt that although I haven’t witnessed him stacking his toys, exactly (he likes to throw his stacking rings under the couch), if he’s able to take a phone over to JB when I say, “Brrr-ing! Hello? Oh, it’s for Daddy. Can you take the phone to Daddy?” and wait with panting openmouthed excitement for the moment when JB says “Hello? Oh! Well, I think you’re going to have to talk to my SON about this,” and hands the phone back to him, so he can hold it somewhat near his head while jabbering intently in Toddler-ese…well, fuck it, he’s not getting a black mark for “Doesn’t Stack; Is Dumb” or whatever. Take that, Milestone Police!
This doctor also called him “Zachary” on at least five occasions during the visit, so frankly I don’t think she’s meeting her own milestones. “Repeatedly Refers to Patient By Wrong Name; Is Dumb”, that’s what I’m marking on her sheet.
Dec
12
December 12, 2006
Every time I read another news article on James Kim I feel myself blinking back tears. Somebody posted a graphic detailing Kim’s journey through that harsh terrain, and seeing the trail leading back towards his family’s car about breaks my damn heart. I wish like hell we could all spin the earth backwards like Superman, and fly to him, a deus ex machina to pluck his still-living body from the cold ground, and return him to safety and warmth and his family’s arms.
I know this world’s got a million sad stories, but this one just won’t leave my head. I hope for peace and healing for the Kim family.
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Boy, I don’t even know how to segue from such a sad topic without sounding like an insensitive asshole, so let’s just…move on, together, to the incredibly shallow topic of concealer. Specifically, I need your advice on a good cover-up for my spectacularly unsexy dark eye circles, because you guys know EVERYTHING. Leave me a comment, or shoot me an email, and help me not spend so much time getting up close and personal with Photoshop’s Dodge tool.
And hey, as long as I’m soliciting advice, I need a good book. I keep picking things up from the library that aren’t very enjoyable, and then I feel resentful about spending my practically nonexistent free time on something that is teh suck, so YO, kick down with the suggestions. What’s the last great thing you read?
Work is incredi-busy lately, what with Macworld and a new product release and Workplace’s upcoming semi-closure for several days in a row over the holidays (would you believe I actually argued against that decision? I really am an asshole). I’m pleased to report, though, that I had time this week to write a very stupid blog post that included a photo of one of our employees in a monkey mask, so the next time I have a mini career crisis and wonder if I’m Really Being All That I Can Be, I will remind myself: monkey mask.
I’ve been posting photos of the various Christmas accouterments scattered around the house, and for those of you with really good memories, here’s an old friend: Porny McSquirrelton, He-Who-Wields-Anal-Beads. Speaking of anal, my ass is going to get really fat if I keep doing this.
In other news, this video is oddly wonderful. Rescue many horses, yes indeed! (Thanks, Jilly.)
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