Everything's comin' up Milhouse
SHE SAID "DATE!"
But first: I went over John's last night, and got to meet Zelda! If that is the right verb to use for a baby -- does "meet" imply a reciprocity? Can you meet someone who does not yet have object permanence? Well, regardless, I got to see Zelda, and hold her! I don't know if I've ever really held a baby before? But John handed her over, saying, "Here's Uncle Traiken! Or Uncle Rob? Do you want to be Uncle Traiken or Uncle Rob?" I went with Rob, since "Traiken" has fallen into more "artist name" for music than any real kind of nickname.
But it was so much, getting to see my best friend of fourteen years with a child. It's crazy, it doesn't seem quite real, and yet OF COURSE it's still John, and we still talked and hung out and played video games and everything was about the same as it's ever been. There was just a baby there for much of the time. She was a good baby, though! Not that, like, they're to be judged on behavior or anything; she's only a month old, just existing is fine. But she wasn't wailing the whole time or anything -- just the odd cry here or there, which seemed to pass like a fleeting whim. Maybe when everything's still so damn new and you don't even know you are a person yet, the emotions come and go with a given spasm of your tiny, tiny body. Or maybe when you haven't been socialized to develop an interior life and keep it from the rest of the world so not as to bother people, all the whirring, zipping thoughts that we assign language and concepts to are expressed, instead, as cries and giggles and burps.
I don't know; I have no idea about babies, man.
But it was especially amazing to watch her face, and there would be moments where it seemed like she was looking at something, or someone, or considering something -- as though she would say something any moment. Is that us projecting a thought process onto a human face, small and new as it may be? Or is that just how expressive eyes can be, and how keyed in we can be to the tiniest changes in a face? John did say that at one point, he noticed when she began to look at him. And yeah, of course that stuff has to begin at some point. Does it turn on, or does it develop and one day you notice it the first time? I DON'T KNOW, MAN. I DON'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BABIES, MAN.
There was one moment, though, when he was holding her and she was looking up at him. Definitely looking at him, and it seemed like she looked at him with such reverence. Can a baby love her father if a baby doesn't know what a father is, or what love is? Or are these things deeper than any of the words we've tried to attach to them? Either way, I thought it was beautiful. I wondered how long that look would last -- if she'd grow up into a typical rebellious teenager, at some point having to distance herself from her parents to find her own identity. But with John as her father? I literally cannot imagine a luckier human being.
Tonight I went down to Cherry Hill despite it not being Friday. The last couple Fridays haven't worked out for Demi, so we ended up hanging out briefly tonight. AND WE GOT RAMEN. I keep watching videos from English vloggers in Japan, and so I keep craving these foods. And it was so satisfying. The place itself was pretty cool, and decorated with each wall being a mural of anime. Catering to their expected clientele, for certain. Towards the end of the meal (which is after Demi has been done for twenty minutes and I'm still eating), she went to the bathroom. Sometimes -- most times, she'll text me from in there. I figure people have to do that all the time, but when you know for a fact your friend is on the toilet, it's... different. Well, this time, it wasn't to share a funny image or something she forgot to mention earlier: it was to inform me that this ramen place has special toilets. Fancy, accessorized, Japanese-style toilets. The kind that clean you. THE KIND THAT WORK FOR A LIVING. So she suggested that, before leaving, I try it out, too. She said the bathrooms are just single locking rooms anyway, and at the end of a hallway, no one would see if I went into the women's room or not.
Errrrrr, ummm.
I said I'd like to see if there was gender equality in this regard, anyway. So when I actually did have to go, I went down the hallway to the bathrooms, and the men's room... WAS LOCKED.
Err, ummmmm. Hrmmm. Well.
The women's was unlocked. And really, they're single-occupancy rooms, probably the same throughout, just with different signs on the doors. The men's room was locked. I had to pee. FUCK THE GENDER BINARY ANYWAY, AM I RIGHT
Holy crap.
So worth it.
It is true: the Japanese are light years ahead of us in toilet technology.
But wow okay THIS IS NOT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE NIGHT. It is, in fact, far from. Before Demi got there, I was waiting in my car, and checked my email. I do this much more often now that Vanessa and I are emailing again, even though she already sent me a message this morning, and texted me earlier this afternoon as well! So one email a day is the most I can expect, but I still check, just in case, just in slim hope that--
OH HOLY WOW SHE SENT ME ANOTHER MESSAGE
In her first message today, she brought up her Halloween movie marathon. She asked me how I feel about horror films, and if I had any Halloween plans, movie-wise. I responded that I didn't have Halloween plans of any kind. So, I wondered if she might want to do something for Halloween?
READER, SHE SAID YES.
What's more, she asked if I might want to go see a horror movie in theaters with her. AND! she referred to it, in her email, AS A "MOVIE DATE."
READER, SHE SAID "DATE."
Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooly shit YES! Gaaaah, all my fretting and wondering and trying-to-read-signs, that old song and dance, that old terrible habit that keeps haunting me, IT'S ALL UNNECESSARY NOW! I don't have to figure out how to broach the topic and ask about big important feelings like a goddamn high school prom-posal. So aside from the impending climate apocalypse, EVERYTHING IS FUCKING GREAT!
I've been working on my book a bunch, and fuck if it's not becoming more and more relevant. It'd be nicer if it didn't. I like how the book is going! I think it could be a very good book without becoming a comment on the state of the world! I initially thought I was gonna draw a parallel to 9/11 and the lead-up to the Iraq war! Turns out the world decided to sink further and further into madness, and the best thing I can do with that insanity is use it as inspiration for this novel! Okay these are all kinda sarcastic/exasperated exclamation marks, but the earlier ones were pure boundless excitement and joy!
Truth is, working on this book and knowing that Vanessa wants to go on a date makes me feel the most complete and contented that I have been in YEEAAAAARRRSSSS.
But first: I went over John's last night, and got to meet Zelda! If that is the right verb to use for a baby -- does "meet" imply a reciprocity? Can you meet someone who does not yet have object permanence? Well, regardless, I got to see Zelda, and hold her! I don't know if I've ever really held a baby before? But John handed her over, saying, "Here's Uncle Traiken! Or Uncle Rob? Do you want to be Uncle Traiken or Uncle Rob?" I went with Rob, since "Traiken" has fallen into more "artist name" for music than any real kind of nickname.
But it was so much, getting to see my best friend of fourteen years with a child. It's crazy, it doesn't seem quite real, and yet OF COURSE it's still John, and we still talked and hung out and played video games and everything was about the same as it's ever been. There was just a baby there for much of the time. She was a good baby, though! Not that, like, they're to be judged on behavior or anything; she's only a month old, just existing is fine. But she wasn't wailing the whole time or anything -- just the odd cry here or there, which seemed to pass like a fleeting whim. Maybe when everything's still so damn new and you don't even know you are a person yet, the emotions come and go with a given spasm of your tiny, tiny body. Or maybe when you haven't been socialized to develop an interior life and keep it from the rest of the world so not as to bother people, all the whirring, zipping thoughts that we assign language and concepts to are expressed, instead, as cries and giggles and burps.
I don't know; I have no idea about babies, man.
But it was especially amazing to watch her face, and there would be moments where it seemed like she was looking at something, or someone, or considering something -- as though she would say something any moment. Is that us projecting a thought process onto a human face, small and new as it may be? Or is that just how expressive eyes can be, and how keyed in we can be to the tiniest changes in a face? John did say that at one point, he noticed when she began to look at him. And yeah, of course that stuff has to begin at some point. Does it turn on, or does it develop and one day you notice it the first time? I DON'T KNOW, MAN. I DON'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BABIES, MAN.
There was one moment, though, when he was holding her and she was looking up at him. Definitely looking at him, and it seemed like she looked at him with such reverence. Can a baby love her father if a baby doesn't know what a father is, or what love is? Or are these things deeper than any of the words we've tried to attach to them? Either way, I thought it was beautiful. I wondered how long that look would last -- if she'd grow up into a typical rebellious teenager, at some point having to distance herself from her parents to find her own identity. But with John as her father? I literally cannot imagine a luckier human being.
Tonight I went down to Cherry Hill despite it not being Friday. The last couple Fridays haven't worked out for Demi, so we ended up hanging out briefly tonight. AND WE GOT RAMEN. I keep watching videos from English vloggers in Japan, and so I keep craving these foods. And it was so satisfying. The place itself was pretty cool, and decorated with each wall being a mural of anime. Catering to their expected clientele, for certain. Towards the end of the meal (which is after Demi has been done for twenty minutes and I'm still eating), she went to the bathroom. Sometimes -- most times, she'll text me from in there. I figure people have to do that all the time, but when you know for a fact your friend is on the toilet, it's... different. Well, this time, it wasn't to share a funny image or something she forgot to mention earlier: it was to inform me that this ramen place has special toilets. Fancy, accessorized, Japanese-style toilets. The kind that clean you. THE KIND THAT WORK FOR A LIVING. So she suggested that, before leaving, I try it out, too. She said the bathrooms are just single locking rooms anyway, and at the end of a hallway, no one would see if I went into the women's room or not.
Errrrrr, ummm.
I said I'd like to see if there was gender equality in this regard, anyway. So when I actually did have to go, I went down the hallway to the bathrooms, and the men's room... WAS LOCKED.
Err, ummmmm. Hrmmm. Well.
The women's was unlocked. And really, they're single-occupancy rooms, probably the same throughout, just with different signs on the doors. The men's room was locked. I had to pee. FUCK THE GENDER BINARY ANYWAY, AM I RIGHT
Holy crap.
So worth it.
It is true: the Japanese are light years ahead of us in toilet technology.
But wow okay THIS IS NOT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE NIGHT. It is, in fact, far from. Before Demi got there, I was waiting in my car, and checked my email. I do this much more often now that Vanessa and I are emailing again, even though she already sent me a message this morning, and texted me earlier this afternoon as well! So one email a day is the most I can expect, but I still check, just in case, just in slim hope that--
OH HOLY WOW SHE SENT ME ANOTHER MESSAGE
In her first message today, she brought up her Halloween movie marathon. She asked me how I feel about horror films, and if I had any Halloween plans, movie-wise. I responded that I didn't have Halloween plans of any kind. So, I wondered if she might want to do something for Halloween?
READER, SHE SAID YES.
What's more, she asked if I might want to go see a horror movie in theaters with her. AND! she referred to it, in her email, AS A "MOVIE DATE."
READER, SHE SAID "DATE."
Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooly shit YES! Gaaaah, all my fretting and wondering and trying-to-read-signs, that old song and dance, that old terrible habit that keeps haunting me, IT'S ALL UNNECESSARY NOW! I don't have to figure out how to broach the topic and ask about big important feelings like a goddamn high school prom-posal. So aside from the impending climate apocalypse, EVERYTHING IS FUCKING GREAT!
I've been working on my book a bunch, and fuck if it's not becoming more and more relevant. It'd be nicer if it didn't. I like how the book is going! I think it could be a very good book without becoming a comment on the state of the world! I initially thought I was gonna draw a parallel to 9/11 and the lead-up to the Iraq war! Turns out the world decided to sink further and further into madness, and the best thing I can do with that insanity is use it as inspiration for this novel! Okay these are all kinda sarcastic/exasperated exclamation marks, but the earlier ones were pure boundless excitement and joy!
Truth is, working on this book and knowing that Vanessa wants to go on a date makes me feel the most complete and contented that I have been in YEEAAAAARRRSSSS.