Saturday, May 01, 2004

The Day That Was (And the Day That, Perhaps, Will Be)

Let's take a walk through my day. Pick up a few choice moments and hold them up to the light to see how they sparkle. Mmmm, pretty.

Then I'll take a stab at guessing what tomorrow will be like. Tomorrow night's entry will probably include the play-by-play of what REALLY happened, which as often as not provides some Marx Brothers-level comedy due to the obvious "this is what you want/this is what you get" thing.


Rough night last night. Lots of waking, and sleeping, and waking, and dozing. Dreams in which I was smoking again, which is odd. Quit 13 years ago, but I still dream of cigarettes from time to time, and wake up feeling guilty. Huh.

Got to sleep-in a bit, which was really nice. Rolled up and out around 8:00. Nice strong coffee to kick me in the ass. Miserable day -- rainy, cold. Under 60 degrees on May 1st in Austin, TX. If a pale guy on a white horse rides by I'm gonna freak-right-the-fuck-out.

And then the typical Saturday acceleration begins.

Brought the kids to the local Home Depot at 10:30 for the monthly kids craft thingie. Mickey Mouse bookshelves this time. Ahh, Korporate Krafts! The kids are elated, I'm mildly disturbed, but whatever. Miranda and Trevor each got a nice new Disney/Home Depot smock. And (aside from the gradual soul dilution) it's all FREE! Wonderful stuff, really, and a great time is had by all.

Then lunch with Mom at Applebee's (they have balloons. The kids like balloons. And grilled cheese). Jaunt to Super Target (god I love that place-- they opened one here about 3-4 months ago and I've managed to completely avoid anything resembling the hell that is Wal*Mart ever since). Crappy haircut at TGF while the family shops (hair looks shitty, but at least it only cost $9. Plus, a little styling glue makes it look just ducky).

Still rainy and cold. I'm walking around in shorts, so I'm feeling less that brilliant. Off to the mall to catch Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed with The Cherubs, Christine, and Mom.

While waiting for the movie, bought a game for the kids called Silly Stories - sort of a memory game with some cool early reading stuff built in. Basically, you choose three tiles, each of which provide a portion of a story outline sentence. The results are often silly -- such as "The fireman / kisses a frog / on Mars."

Hmmm. This may be how Tom Robbins got started.

Anyway, got through Scooby Doo 2 without permanent damage. Enjoyed the first one far more, perhaps because I expected so very little. However, Matt Lillard is awesome, Sarah Michelle-Gellar remains the perfect Daphne, the Velma is geekalicious (way too lipstick for proto-lesbian Velma, but it works for me anyhow), and Freddie Prinze is still the Acting Antichrist. So, there's consistency at least.

Mom departs. Sighs of relief are heaved by the adults. Drop everyone home so that the dogs can be released from their confines. Off to the store (Alone! ALONE!!! Tool playing far too loud in the CD player the whole way there. And back.) to buy some turkey meatballs, fresh bread, Godiva liqueur. Rent a couple of DVDs specifically selected to address the damage caused by Scooby Doo (Ripley's Game, Master & Commander).

Spaghetti, meatballs, bread. Sauce-encrusted children cause many moments of joviality. Good eating is rewarded with Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream (with rapturous results -- those little fudge fish are a huge hit. Finally, something to thank those smelly hippies for, should I ever meet them face to face. God knows I won't have a damn thing to say about their music).

Bath time -- Christine gets the honor, since I got to run to the store like 47 times today ("Oh shit, we're having spaghetti for dinner, but we don't have any!" etc.). Prolonged kitchen cleanup accompanied by Everything But the Girl (strangely appropriate, doncha think?). Time for stories -- Miranda and I read chapter 2 of C. S. Lewis's "Voyage of the Dawn Treader." She's totally diggin' on the series, which makes me So Damn Happy. Wonder how old she'll be before the whole Christian Imagery connection is made.

And then, kids go to sleep. Quick shower to finally rid myself of the itches caused by the crappy haircut from many hours previous. Shorts and tank top. It's 8:30PM.

And then, the unsettling realization that, last time I sat down and relaxed for more than 5 seconds, it was about 10:00AM this morning.

And it was a good day. But damn, I am CERTAIN that time didn't used to move so friggin' fast.

Watch a TiVo'd Monster House (man, that show RAWKS!), chat with Christine (Me: "Well, lecture -- I tend to ramble." You: "Yeah, no shit -- look at how long this damn entry is") about some of the issues/ideas/etc. that beginning a journal is already stirring up.

And then it's now. DVDs go unwatched. Journaling, nice glass of bourbon.


So, tomorrow. Hmmmm.

Best guesses: Decent night sleep, with far fewer carcinogenic dreams. Kicked out of bed when the kids get moving around 6:45 (after all I got to sleep in this morning, so fair is fair). Coffee, blessed coffee. Something not entirely irritating courtesy of Disney or one of their Daemonic Relations to keep the kids entertained and indoctrinated in American Culture (chortle). Breakfast -- eggs and turkey bacon. Flip through the paper. Briefly consider going to church, then realize that there's no more Sunday school so what's the damn rush?

Note: This is the first event of the day which may not go my way. My churchgoing is a rather involved and complicated affair. I'm sure we'll get around to it. Suffice to say I'm Catholic. By default. For now.

Then. Lift some heavy objects and run a few miles at the gym (please! PLEASE!). Grocery shopping. Side trip to the video store or appease the marauding children. Back to the homestead. Mow the backyard (a.k.a. The Plains of Austin). Spraypaint the kids Disney Bookends (see Home Depot run, above). Play some Hoyle's Casino 2004 (we're doing Vegas in September, so I think this qualifies as research). Briefly consider cooking up a storm, then default to something simple because damn-it-it's-Sunday-and-I'm-beat.

Pull the ripcord and begin the getting-ready-for-bed tango. Baths, playing about, reading, and good night. Relax, jockey for some "Barry White time" (if you know what I mean, and I think you do), suffer through an episode of Alias (god I loathe that show. But Christine seems to enjoy is, and it's rather pretty, so whatever. That Jennifer Garner looks like a boy with boobies, though). Watch a TiVo'd episode of Deadwood (still catching up -- crude, good performances, well-written, not sure I'm gonna sign on for the long run).

Slow sinking feeling (Oh shit, weekend over).



So, we'll see how that turns out.

Jeez, my weekends reek of suburban domesticity. What my life lacks in thrilling narrative, it more than makes up for in the fact that I'll probably live to see 70+ and grandchildren. There was a time this was far less likely. So that's good.

And I wouldn't change a muthafuckin thing.

It's days like this that make me realize that I love my melodius life. I just want some more grace notes.

Love is all around.


Current Mood: satisfied
Current Music: The thrilling tones of an episode of Trading Spaces

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