Lately, I've been honestly surprised at how much I can't wait to get off work to go spend time with Simon. Not that I ever didn't want to spend time with him, but the past few days, he's taken his playfulness to a whole new level. He's started eating bean burritos, and working on saying the word "beans". He's also gotten pretty good at saying "Lola", as Moz wrote about the other day. Plus, you've got to admire his approach to new challenges:
He puts his hands around it and tells it who's boss. I believe it's the same approach taken by Al Pacino in Godfather II, before giving Fredo the kiss of death and I think by The Joker in the 1989's Batman, telling someone "You are my number one guy!", only in a very creepy, insane Bugs Bunny way. It's a way of living that I find admirable and highly deserving of mimicry, in many walks of life. When someone questions your judgment, put both hands around their face, and then while they're transfixed by your gaze, either a) stare them down, b) questioningly lick their face, or c) knee them in that special spot. It'll get the job done.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
As we blindly try to climb our way out of the seemingly endless pile of guano into which we are born, we sometimes see some light at the top of the cave, and a little joy comes into our life, and if we can just get over this next mound, we'd get a breath of fresh air, and maybe get out of the crap heap. But then, a hundred thousand metaphorical bats show up and dump a ton of steaming dook on you. Like when your new car breaks down and it costs more to fix it than you paid for your last 2 cars combined. And then you start trying to climb again, with your head down, hoping to not get dumped on again. But you know it's coming. What form it's coming in, exactly, you don't know. But the crap will dump on you for the rest of your life, and it never stops.
Wow, that's a downer of a paragraph. I try not to keep this mindset, but sometimes, life sure feels like this. Today, I'm fretting over a phone call. If it goes one way, I'll be giddy. If it goes the other way, I'll start thinking about the mile high pile of guano again.