Oct
12
October 12, 2006
I am disturbed by how quickly the weeks fly by; I feel like this is an eye-rollingly banal observation I’ve made at least four hundred and fifty-seven thousand times in this journal alone, but, you know: whoah, time keeps on slippin, slippin. Into the future, man.
Also, I have clearly created this particular problem for myself, but posting to four separate blogs (this one here, and that one there, and that parenting-related one, and Workplace’s blog, and jesus christ I am sick of the word “blog” and yet I’m actually considering attending this conference for work-related reasons which will be like bathing in a rich creamy soup of BLOOOOG) sometimes feels like…hmm, what’s the word for rolling a big rock up a hill throughout eternity? Sinbad? Sassafras?
It does seem like there are never-ending deadlines to consider, especially as I try and get posts lined up in advance so I’m not tempted to spend my limited office time doing personal work – not really even an option as the January Macworld Expo shuffles closer and I have to devote entire cobwebbed sections of my brain to planning out Workplace’s corporate presence, did you know renting a trash can at the Moscone costs, like, forty hojillion dollars? – but I am enjoying the work, I’m enjoying the fact that I’m forced to keep writing, even if I feel like I have nothing to say.
There are times when I wish I had a few more diverse hobbies, because some days I come home from my work day, which is spent almost without exception in front of a computer, to power-bonding with Riley for a few hours, then once he’s in bed I’m right back in front of a glowing screen. I think a lot about how I hope Riley will be a kid who prefers playing outside to the lure of the Xbox or fucking MySpace or whatever when he’s older and how we as parents aren’t exactly providing a stellar example in that department quite yet.
It’s really all about balance, just like everything is, but it’s a relatively new sensation for me to wish there were more hours in each day, so I can fit in everything I want to do. I used to think in terms of killing time. I don’t anymore. For this, I’m glad.
:::
Lately Riley has been making these very distinct sounds whenever we put on his shoes or our own shoes. Or even if he crawls past some shoes lying on the floor. He says “Ba ba! Ba ba!” and while “ba” and “da” and “pa” are basically top of the pops on Riley’s lexicon hit parade right now and can be substituted for almost every word in the English language including pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism, these are deliberate sounds he says the same way each time.
I theorized at first that he was saying “backpack”, like, it’s time to put on our shoes and go for a walk in the backpack, but he says “ba pa” for backpack, not “ba ba”. Next I thought he was saying “bye bye”, like, it’s time to put it in B for boogie and get the hell out of here, but no, he says “beh bah” for “bye bye”. So: shoes = “ba ba”. Why? No one knows. It is a mystery! Sort of like how a human that weighs less than 25 pounds can produce a sound equal to that of a Boeing 747 jet engine.
Oct
10
October 10, 2006
Yesterday I was trying to think of somewhere to go with Riley that would allow us to enjoy the amazing last-gasp fall weather we’re having, and it was with a guilty, guilty heart that I turned into Marymoor and headed to the off-leash dog area. Who goes to the off-leash dog park and leaves their dog, who by the way goes batshit insane with joy for the dog park, at home?
Well, I do, goddammit, because she wasn’t with me and yes I could have driven home and picked her up but I didn’t. Okay? I didn’t.
(Now I’m doubly going to DIE IN A FIRE for BEING A SLUT! Also Dog Services is going to take my dog away!)
We were trundling along, pointing at dogs (“Da! Da!”), and I got to one end of the off-leash area where a path continues past a fence and into the woods. JB and I have never gone this way, because you’re required to put dogs back on leash to walk there, and the whole point of the off-leash area…so anyway, I decided to see where it went. Being as how I didn’t have a dog with me. (Guilt!)
The path wound through the trees and sunlight dappled the ground. Eventually we moved onto a raised wooden walkway upon which Riley’s stroller wheels made a pleasing ba-bump ba-bump sound that reminded me of being a child myself and riding a Big Wheel on my grandparents’ deck in Michigan. And all of a sudden, the path opened up to the edge of Lake Sammamish, which glittered blue and cool and smooth. Dragonflies darted all around us and Riley said “Teh. Teh.”
We walked the rest of the trail which led through the marsh, through the forest edge, and back into the meadows that opened into the off-leash area. It was such a surprise, to experience so much beauty in an everyday sort of outing. I was reminded of how lucky we are to live here, how even in the city and suburbs the natural world always shines through.
Maybe I’ll go back on Friday, and this time I’ll bring Dog.
:::
Okay, there’s something I just have to say. There’s a certain relationship I think that we have, you and I. It’s the kind of relationship where I can tell you things, and you tell me things, and maybe we agree and maybe we don’t. But the thing is: it’s honest, right? As much as it can be, anyway? So it hurts me, it hurts me deeply to know that nobody, not one of you…
Oh, this is so painful. I don’t know if I can go on. Okay, deep breath.
WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ABOUT MEERKAT MANOR??
Seriously, people. There’s a whole show about meerkats, and it’s a drama? Hello, clearly something you should have shared before now. Honestly, I don’t know if I can forgive you.
If LIKE ME you had no idea this mesmerizing show existed – well, forget that Project Runway business all the kids are excited about, Meerkat Manor’s where it’s at. Will they ever find Shakespeare? Will Daisy be kicked out of the group? Will Flower spawn, like, four hundred more pups? Will the Commandoes attack the Whiskers? How about Youssarian, is he ever going to get some hot meerkat action?
It is, no shit, a soap opera starring meerkats. Actual meerkats. In the Kalahari. You should check it out: Animal Planet, Fridays.
And if you know about a sitcom featuring platypuses or something, you better kick down.
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