Jan
10
January 10, 2007
Apparently the steroid medication they gave Riley for his croup is wearing off right on schedule, and JB is doing the hot-shower, cold-air routine with a cranky baby back at home and I officially feel shitty for being gone. I’m worried from afar, which is a helpless, unhappy feeling. Seattle is in the midst of a snowstorm and the roads are nasty, so even if JB felt like doing a quick jaunt to the ER just to be on the safe side it’s not really a great option tonight.
Oh, here’s hoping our boy falls asleep and breathes easy tonight. Maybe if I sit here and power-fret for a few hours I can magic that airway-inflammation out of existence.
Before I got the news about Croup II, Electric Croupaloo, I had a wonderful evening with Lisa, who was kind enough to ferry my ass away from the Moscone for a few hours. We had dinner at a super-tasty Italian place in the Inner Sunset neighborhood (I hope I have that right), and I was thrilled to be 1) in such good company and 2) visiting a part of the city other than the three-block radius around the convention center.
Notable mentions from Macworld today:
• I saw Robin Williams. Like, not the Peachpit author, the guy with the hairy arms who should really stick to comedy instead of playing psychopaths in movies. (Mychal, did you see him too? He had some kind of crazy hat on with sparkles. Also, sunglasses, because OF COURSE.) I was strangely excited by a quasi-celebrity presence and found myself pointing and hopping up and down while saying “Robin Williams! Robin Williams!” like a total goober.
• When the people offering the 10-minute massage services yell out “Chair massage? Anyone want a chair massage?” it’s probably best to curb your desire to yell back, “Does it come with a happy ending?”
• People need to pace themselves on this iPhone craziness. I mean, seriously. Take a baby aspirin and lie down for a while, tech pundits, you’ve got until JUNE.
• I had a cab driver today who started complaining about Macworld in general and went on to berate all the people who had waited in line overnight for the keynote. “All I say,” he said. “Is people need get lives.” I said how I had a couple coworkers who waited in that line and he shook his head in disgust and peered at me in the rearview mirror. “Maybe you should find different job.”
S.F. photos:
And JB’s contribution, so to speak, from Seattle:
(You knew his name wasn’t really JB, right? Also, did you know he had such good…uh, penmanship?)
Cross your fingers with me that Riley is on the mend, will you. I’m feeling so far away, and I miss his little face.
Jan
9
I talked with JB this morning and he told me that Riley had been coughing, had sounded phlegmy and awful and he woke up at 3 and JB was so worried about the sound of his breathing he slept propped in our bed with Riley in his arms until 6, when presumably the various ominous creaking sounds in his back woke everyone up for good.
He took Riley to the pediatrician who diagnosed croup. Croup! I told my coworker about this and she said, “Croup? I thought no one got that any more.” Croup is so 1800’s.
But no, croup is alive and well and currently residing in my baby boy’s air passages. Riley got some kind of oral steroid (…steroids? Really? Is he going to, like, grow a bunch of zits and Hulk out and start whaling on us when the sippy cup isn’t produced in time?) and was sent home where according to JB he’s eating and acting just fine, except for this seal-bark cough business.
I know just how stressful the last 24 hours has been for JB and it was scary to be so far away and have to wait to hear what the doctor said and I feel really, really bad that Riley got sick while I’m gone.
And maybe I’m also just a tiny, eentsy, microscopic bit glad I missed it. Maybe.
(THIS JUST IN: I AM A BAD PERSON.)
My first full day at Macworld went by surprisingly quickly, normally I feel like I spend a lot of time standing around bitching about how much my feet hurt and how booooring it all is but today I found myself oddly excited to talk with people. There is something great about connecting with people in person, seeing real live humans that love Workplace’s software; for a marketing person who mostly writes gobbledygook that gets tossed out at sea for the faceless masses it’s satisfying in some deeply geeky way.
I saw Macworld Hugging Lady, the incredibly wonderful woman who *hugs* me each and every year and tells me how much she likes that newsletter thingie I write. “I missed you last year, girl. You had that baby, right?” she asked, and I said yes I sure did.
I also saw Ed, the folksy elderly gentleman who I swear has stepped right from the magnolia-scented pages of some wonderful old novel set in the South, whose accent I could listen to all day long. I see Ed every Macworld, bless his heart, he comes for the whole damn week. We talked about aching feet and he said, “Yep, them old girls start talking after a while, don’t they.”
My only view of S.F. today was the path between my hotel and the Moscone, for the most part, and as I type this I have a room service pizza cooling on the table, intended as comfort food to make amends for the embarrassing, lame “meet and greet” I was subjected to a few hours ago. Yes, I treat emotional discomfort with food, is that UNHEALTHY or something?
Hey, so I was right on the iPhone announcement, but that was kind of a no-shitter. The price point pisses me off, because I’m sure I’ll want one of the damn things by the time they ship. I don’t even like cell phones. Stupid Apple and their stupid compelling consumer products.
I feel like an impostor this week, every aspect of my day is so unlike my normal life it’s truly bizarre. I am enjoying myself somewhat and feeling guilty for that, because the fact that I’m taking any pleasure from this temporary state of affairs seems bad, like I should just be completely unhappy and vowing never to travel again ever because O the tragic separation of mother and child, and then I get irritated with myself for feeling guilty because god, I only have one event per year that requires travel, it’s no big deal, and really, the fun never stops when it comes to parenting self-criticism.
Okay, I have a question for you guys: why do hotels include both a built-in gratuity charge and a place to add a tip on that little piece of paper you sign when you get room service? I mean, if they add 16% to the bill for the gratuity, isn’t that sufficient?
Lastly, the view from my hotel window this morning:
P.S. My aunt’s blog continues to be extremely awesome. I recommend bookmarking that page, because her writing is worth your while.
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