2005-08-08 - 5:02 p.m.
Yeah, I haven’t updated in a while. Blame my job.
Wisconsin was nice and cool. 80 degrees in fact; all the while St. Louis was smothering under 100-plus temperatures. The Professor and her cousin Clare got along swimmingly, as a couple of giggly young girls can, and the rest of us just hung out and shopped at the Land’s End outlet. They were having a “Clear the Decks” sale: 70% off certain items. I snagged a couple of very nice linen shirts and some new slacks for work for around $20. I keep saying clothes don’t matter much, but hey, I’m management now. I have to maintain a certain level of professional decorum.
We came back to find that one of the window units had leaked into the Professor’s room, and caused the some of the subfloor to swell up under the new tiles. Rats. Then one of the light sockets on the ceiling fan in the living room shorted out, leaving us with no overhead light. Double rats. And last Friday night, we found that someone had tried to debit our checking account… from Mexico City. The debit cards have been cancelled, and it’s going to take at least a week to get new ones. Triple rats.
Birthday was very quiet: spent the day with Mom, ate barbecue and cake. I’d wanted a big blowout, or at least dinner out somewhere fancy. We may still do dinner out somewhere fancy; no telling. Not bad for the big 35.
J’s in that third trimester. I’ve battened down the hatches, metaphorically speaking: for the next three months, I will be either the worst, most inconsiderate, lunkheaded sonofabitch that ever walked the planet, or the absolute best thing that ever happened to her. No happy mediums here, all or nothing. The baby is growing apace; J now looks very obviously pregnant, and you can actually tell faintly where his head is lying at any given moment. This time around is a lot easier: we’re not panicking at every little thing, we don’t have childbirth classes to attend, and J’s not getting morning sickness. We’re already starting to refer to him as Michael, although William and James are strong contenders.
(A friend of mine encouraged me to call him Thor. I told him that was a guaranteed “hit me” name. Example: “So, you’re Thor, huh?” Whack! “Are ya thor now?” Whack! “How ‘bout now?”)
I’m getting a creative itch again. Maybe a little leatherwork, maybe something as simple as some throw pillows for the couch, maybe some brewing. I’ve been getting evil ideas about a ginger short mead; I got some birthday money so I’m going to buy some smaller carboys and try my hand at small-batch brewing. I may get some calligraphy supplies too. Nothing fancy, just a couple of pen nibs and some ink. J has some other ideas for my creative bent, but they usually involve creatively moving clothes from the laundry to the dresser drawers, or creatively reconfiguring the closet. Yee-hah.
So, just another quiet, normal life. I feel like I’m in a David Byrne song.
