Long day. The baby was being very finicky and difficult. I got little to nothing done. The only workish thing that I accomplished was going to to Pulp to pick up a press kit and some tickets for the N*E*R*D show in September.
Cara and I had good conversation, though. Unfortunately she was a little under the weather and left to go take a nap.
Now I'm just very very tired and don't feel like doing anything. But I need to go clean up the kitchen. whine.
The editor from the PG called and said that he, “really liked the article.” He thought it turned out very well, “lots of color and excellent quotes.” Of course, I'm anticipating the final product to look nothing like what I originally sent him and that's fine. ;-p
But, yeah, this is really going to happen. Very exciting.
And,
The baby pulled out my old Blind Melon cassette from the CD cabinet. Now I'm looking at it and thinking, “I bet the Bee Girl is a crackhead now.” Sigh…1992. Speaking of which, I bought the boyfriend one of his birthday presents the other day: tickets to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in September. Eeek! It's too bad that they aren't coming sooner. Their last album is the absolute perfect summer album. But, I guess September is summery enough.
Speaking of No Rain, it is another beeyuteeful day in my neighborhood. I want to take a walk but I have to wait for some window people to get here and measure the windows. (We're in desparate need of new ones.) They've taken a cable company attitude about the whole affair and informed me that they will be here “some time between 11 and 2.” That, of course, means that they'll come at 1:58, just in time to disturb the baby from his nap and wreck any chances of a nice walk today. Ergh. Need iced latte. Must have iced latte. *stabs eye with fork*
Yesterday, after our close brush with road pancakedom, I was a little terrified of crossing the street. In order to put it off, the baby and I went to watch the demolition at St. Francis like a bunch of townies. It was kind of entertaining, although I don't know how people can sit there all day and watch it like many folks do. My mom, in the spirit of the Great Blackout (as it's apparently being called now), keeps comparing the demolition to 9/11. Ugh. Again, except for the absence of a couple of hijacked planes, thousands of dead people, widespread panic, and some international terrorist organizations, IT'S JUST LIKE 9/11.
Oh, blast, I also have to go to the bank to deposit some money that the boyfriend gave me to cover my eBay seller fees. He put some records and his 909 up for auction and they've finally sold. Hurray! Window people, get here now!
I took a fantastic shower this morning. Lately, I've been having a lot of trouble squeezing in a shower on a daily basis. So that makes the showers that I do take that much more invigorating. I used this homemade soap that my mother bought for me that's scented like Nag Champa. So now I kind of smell like I've been hanging out with Digital Jesus. (Don't worry if you don't know who I'm talking about. I think only three people on my friends list will get that.)
Well, I should probably get some work done. I finally sent in my PG article (again) yesterday and the guy said that he would get back to me soon. pant pant. I'm just glad to be done with it. I feel like I've been working on it for two months…Oh, wait, I have been working on it for two months.
http://www.livejournal.com/community/found_objects/728595.html#cutid1
The tattoos are funny, though. Nazis are dumb as fuck.
No, these two things aren't related but they're on my mind.
First, the baby shower thing.
I never had one. My family has this thing about having a baby shower before the baby is born because they think it is bad luck. Whatever. I didn't have the energy to argue with them about it so I said, “Fine, we'll have a shower after the baby is born.” I had several offers from the boyfriend's family to throw me one before the birth but I had to continually decline. My grandmother ended up buying me most of the baby supplies, which I am incredibly grateful for. Of course, by that point, there was really no need for a traditional shower. That was okay, too. I put the word out that just a little “Welcome to the World” party would be lovely. But, no one stepped up to do this and it was apparently left up to me to organize a party for myself. Not only did I feel weird about doing that I also didn't have the energy. So the birth of my son was never “officially” celebrated. I don't know why this is bothering me now, when he's getting closer and closer to his second birthday. I guess it just says to me that since my pregnancy wasn't planned and the circumstances were less than ideal that no one felt the need to say, “Hey, Kelly, we're genuinely happy for you. Here's a cake.” I'm especially confused that my grandmother, Miss Martha Stewart herself, wasn't all over a baby shower-type affair, regardless of the situation. I don't know. There just still seems to be this vibe of “You shouldn't have a baby” hanging in the air and it's really getting to me. I guess I'm just upset that since I'm not planning on having any more children that the one I did have wasn't celebrated the way that everyone else's was. Or maybe I'm insane. It's really a very silly thing to worry about.
Moving on. Summer nights.
I don't like air conditioning. Granted, when it gets extremely hot I do turn it on just to be sensible. But last night it was just cool enough to leave it off. I woke up around 3 a.m. for no apparent reason. I lied awake in bed for awhile, listening to this one cricket chirp. I have these sheer white curtains on my window and one of the reasons that I love them so much is because on breezy summer nights they billow up the slightest bit. It looks so pretty. I loved lying in bed and feeling that tiny little breeze come through and cool the sweat that was starting to form on my brow.
I have these great sheets that my grandmother gave me and for awhile I just moved my feet back and forth, letting the edge of the sheet run in between my toes. It felt luscious. I love summer. I'll be sad to see it go. Of course, that means I'll have autumn nights to look forward to.
The baby and I went for a walk about an hour and a half ago so that we could enjoy the nice weather before it got too hot.
We stopped at the crosswalk at Penn and Main and waited for the light to change. This intersection is notoriously hard to cross because people are always turning onto Penn from both directions. When the light turned green, I looked behind me and saw a woman in a black car with her turn signal on. She was talking on her cell phone and didn't show any immediate signs of turning. I looked across the way and a man in a silver car was looking at the black car and me. He beeped his horn and waved at me to go ahead and cross. I waved back at him and started to scurry across. There was a lot of traffic and I was trying to hurry across out of courtesy. When I got about a quarter of the way across the street, I saw something rapidly approaching out of the corner of my eye. It was the black car, taking the turn at about 25 mph. The woman, obviously engrossed in her very very important cell phone conversation, had not even looked to see if there were any pedestrians before crossing. She stopped about an inch and a half from the baby's stroller, still chatting away. I stared at her in disbelief. Only then did she put down her cell phone to scream at me through her window, which was closed. I flicked her off and pointed to the stroller when I heard another car horn. It was the guy in the silver car. He was beeping at the black car, pointing at her and screaming, “That was your fault!” I was starting to get very upset from our close call, so I just ran the rest of the way across, leaving behind me a cloud of obscenities about cocksuckers on cell phones.
Now, I take responsibility for not looking one more time before crossing, but I think anytime you come *this* close to hitting a woman and her baby, you're the asshole no matter what. I'll just say that she's lucky that her car didn't actually touch us, or I would have dragged her out of the car right there in the intersection.
I have other stuff to talk about but have to get some work done first.
I'm sort of absentmindedly putting finishing touches on the PG article and waiting for Jwan to get here so I can ask him some stuff. Any other obstacles aside, this thing should be ready to be emailed to the PG tomorrow.
Hey moms: the baby has a light rash on his face, lots of little red dots. Considering his recent illness, should I be worried?
Today was boring. Cleaning, laundry, but a really excellent shower.
I can't remember what I was going to say.
m-w.com, quit wasting my time with Words of the Day like “tankini.” It's upsetting.
Is today Ruby's Birthday? If so, Happy Birthday!
I'm having one of those, “I-must-keep-posting-entries-or-else-everyone-will-forget-that-I-exist” days. This is something like my fourth entry today.
Other things that I can't seem to stop doing include eating sweet stuff, picking at my lips (I look like a crackhead now), looking at my knees in this one picture from Conneaut, listening to Massive Attack.
This is what happens when my loved ones abandon me.
I just watched Monster's Ball and now I'm feeling kind of spent. That movie was quite sad and Billy Bob Thornton makes me feel somewhat ill. Well, in general, graying chest hair has that effect on me.
I just remembered the big pile of laundry that's waiting for me downstairs. I'll start shuffling in that general direction. 'Night all.
I'm back, and I'm sure this lonely-Saturday-night-play-by-play is going to get very boring for those of you reading it tomorrow or Monday.
Ummm…Oh, yes, I was going to say that before Dead Alive came on, I tried to watch Donnie Darko again. I wanted to watch it all the way through just so I could hear that remake of that Tears for Fears song, but I just didn't feel like it. It's not that I hate that movie, I just kind of don't care. I think I would have liked it much better if they would have just kept going with the six-foot bunny thing. And those Gyllenhaal siblings haunt me.
I don't think I mentioned anything about it before, but I thought that the media coverage of the blackouts was a bit…much. I mean, I realize that it sucked quite badly for many people but they had way too many man-on-the-street interviews of people saying stuff like, “It reminds me of 9/11…” Yes, except for the absence of several hijacked airplanes, thousands of dead people, a couple of destroyed buildings, and some international terrorists it's JUST LIKE 9/11. Relax.
Although I couldn't help but feel a bit smug that we weren't affected. I don't know why, it's not like I had anything to do with it.
Ohh, I'm trying to think of clever things to talk about but I'm kind of at a loss. I think it's bathtime anyway.
