Category: lil’ chino

It’s after dinner and I’m sitting here drawing my too-long index fingernail across my front bottom teeth, scraping the film of a good meal into little curls which I’ll then think about, and eventually just decide it’s easier to swallow. Sharaun went easy tonight and let me have chilidogs for dinner, although I did have to eat a salad to “balance” it. I just put Keaton down to bed. Speaking of Keaton and sleeping, we lost her morning nap about a week back – she just refused to go down. So, she’s a one-nap baby now, although it’s a nice long one around 1pm so it’s not so bad. I’ve hit a serious stall on my reading, last time I checked in with Sal Paradise he was on his way back to New York after an amazing-sounding shack-up with a Mexican farmgirl. I want to get back to it, but I’ve been otherwise occupied. Tonight’s the night though, I think.

Spring is coming. My lawn is starting to get green and the trees on the block are starting to sport buds on their winter-grey limbs. I’m excited for the day when the weatherman says that the rains are over and I can pull the the hammock and patio chair cushions out of the garage. I’m ready for the not-so-hot precursor to summer months, when we can start earting dinners outside again, music drifting through the screen door, Keaton crawling around in the grass. I’ve decided I’m going to put a screen door on our front door as well, so we can have the house “open” and get a nice breeze running through. This is typical in Florida, but I don’t see it much here in California, maybe I’ll start a trend. Anyway, the coming of spring and summer have my mind turning to camping again, and thinking about how much fun we’ll be able to have (and how much extra work it’ll be) now that Keaton’s a little more mobile and a little more cognizant of her surroundings. Yeah, springtime… bring it.

Goodnight.

Life sometimes gets in the way of blogging. Like tonight, I fully planned to shirk this thing, didn’t get home until 11pm and was tired. Then I remembered I had the binned paragraph about babies/cardboard/consumerism and I thought about going in and filling in around it – I again decided no. Then, laying down, I had the walking though, figured it was good for a paragraph, and went with it. So here I am then, listening to “Disco 2000” from Pulp’s absolute classic Different Class, literally one of my favorite albums of all time. Highschool all over when I hear it. Today was Keaton’s real first birthday, as measured by the sun and moon and tides, and wouldn’t you know it – she’s sick with a runny nose, puffy eyes, and a rattley cough. Poor birthday girl.

I think I’d like to try an experiment, wear a pedometer for a week and see how far I walk, on average, each day. I would expect the results to be nothing less of pitiful. I think of all the walking the human race must have had to endure to get where we are now. Walking through deserts, across ice-bridges, over perilous mountains – all with nothing more than two feet and a hunger. It shames me that me, some long-downline descendant of the great walkers of human history, walks so little in any given day. I can probably count the instances in which I’m required to walk: around my house in the morning after waking up; from the car into work and up to my desk; maybe a restroom break before lunch; lunch; to the car on the way home; and finally around the house again before retiring at night. It’s gotta be staggeringly low, and that’s the sum total of my daily “activity.” It’s shameful, it’s disgusting. Looks like the alliterative “Synthia” was onto something…

Ever since having a baby, our status as “consumers” has risen alarmingly. I’m weekly toting empty cardboard boxes out to the recycle bin, and even with all the “break down boxes” training from my days in fast food I still get lazy and try to stuff them in just as they are. Sometimes, when the bin is full, 90% air and 10% fully-assembled cardboard boxes, I’ll just pile up the new boxes on the bricks outside. Often hoping for rain so it’ll turn into a mush that’s easier to squish into the bin. But, they still come, box after box after box of diapers, wipes, toys, whatever. Week after week we consume, more and more and more. Keaton flies through diapers. We put one on her, she pees in it or poops in it and we take it off. It goes in the trash, the trash goes to the curb, and Keaton’s pee and poops end up in the landfill that’s about 10mi from here, a stinky hump on the flat horizon, flocks of seagulls hanging around the line of trees planted as cover. Sometimes I think there’s got to be a better way.

Quick check: Looks like I didn’t win the lottery. Back to work tomorrow it is then. Today’s piece of flashback humor: mistaken identity II. Goodnight.

Going through this stack of dusty papers that is the mail, I found a check from our credit card folks, $5.47. That’s good money now! I figure that’ll buy me half a bottle of Mega Man; I’m out, and feeling slightly off-mega. Somewhere between aggro and super, maybe… but definitely not mega. Bought some lottery tickets today, the check more than makes up for what I spent, so that makes me feel vindicated or something. I decided to buy them because the jackpot is all jacked-up, somewhere upwards of two-hundred million dollars. Went in with a couple buddies from work. Good guys too, it’s a shame I’ll have to off them if we win. If I win, though, I’ve decided to take up writing in my spare time. Writing, and swimming in my Money Bin.

Monday night though, we had tomato soup and grilled cheese, what I like to think of as an old “hobo standby.” I like it though, Sharaun makes it sometimes when she’s pressed for time or doesn’t want to run to the store, and I don’t mind because it’s tasty and I can launch black flotillas of pepper on the surface of my soup. She was busy working on some stuff on her computer, so I played with Keaton until about eight before putting her down. Her cold is getting worse, I think. Her right eye is all goopy, collecting at the corner in nice gooey eye boogers I lovingly scoop out with my fingers. She still acts like a trooper though, with nary a sign of discomfort.

The rain continues to come in sunny California. I like it. Last night I listened to it pelt the windows and tick down the drainpipes while I waited for sleep, I had that tent fantasy again, willed it, actually. It was still coming down this morning, I used my umbrella to walk from the car into the building at work. Umbrellas, though, as I’ve mentioned before, are useless in my opinion, and every time I use one I think about how I’d rather have a nice long London-style “Mac” to stay dry instead. Like I said though, I like the rain. It makes my grass green, forces lazy days inside. I like the way it makes the streets and sidewalks shiny and dark and uniform in color, like they all got a coat of lacquer and are fresh and new. I like the sun better, though.

Gotta get to scrubbin’ folks, dishes are calling. Goodnight.

Stayed home sick again, blah.

I know I’ve been remiss in posting pictures to Keaton’s gallery, but that’s because our camera is kaput, busted. I have, however, managed to scour the web and find some semi-recent pictures of our little darling which were hosted at the websites of friends. Here then, courtesy of Suzyness, is the joint 30th birthday party I shared with Kristi, where Keaton makes several cute-as-can-be appearances. Enjoy. There, hopefully that will help quell the nastygrams from friends and relatives hungry for a Keaton fix.

Everyone keeping an eye on The Universal National Service Act of 2007? It’s a new bill introduced in the house, and its purpose is stated as follows:

To require all persons in the United States between the ages of 18 and 42 to perform national service, either as a member of the uniformed services or in civilian service in furtherance of the national defense and homeland security, to authorize the induction of persons in the uniformed services during wartime to meet end-strength requirements of the uniformed services…

OK. Sounds straightforward to me. A draft+ kind thing. Not only is there compulsory service in wartime, but apparently we must all perform “national service” for the “furtherance of national defense and homeland security.” I hope this is something as simple as being prejudiced against Muslims or towelheads, that sure would be easiest on me. Anyway, keep an eye on this one, it’s bound to make some news if it makes it through the first set of hoops.

Sharaun and I both got new debit/credit cards today, along with a note that our old ones “may” have been “compromised.” So, I had to go onto every bill I pay via auto-pay and update the card details, not to mention change my pin number. What a pain in the ass. And, I’m sure that “may have been compromised” means someone hacked into their database somehow, since it seemed to be a blanket mailing thing. I check our account pretty regularly, and hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary (aside from Sharaun spending a bit too much at places like the Gap, Marshalls, and TJ Maxx), but I downloaded the statements and went back through them using AceMoney as a fine-toothed comb. Nothing seemed amiss, so I guess we’re cool now that we’ve got things all changed up. Stupid identity thieves, scourge of the internet age.

Wow, what a random entry. Goodnight.