A Weekend In Review:
The kids' aunt Kristen took the kids on Friday night and said she'd keep them until Sunday. Thus, I went up to Sun City on Saturday night after work, to hang out with Jimmy and the band and various hangers-on, and you know what? When I got there, I found out that the lady of the house, Sonya, had taken off to go dancing with friends. Then Kristen called and said that the kids were sick and could we come and get them? So Jimmy left early to go pick them up. And then I was there with no one I knew except for my friend Celeste. It wasn't bad, just, dare I say, boring? And a little irritating, but I'll get into that in a minute. I love Celeste and was happy to see her, but I had nothing to say to anyone else there. There was one guy who came and introduced himself to me, and sat there complimenting everything I said or did with great enthusiasm until I caught on and mentioned that I had a boyfriend, and then he just sort of drifted away.
Then another guy showed up. This is the irritating part. He had his twelve-year-old daughter with him, and a one-year-old girl in a baby carrier. The little one was asleep and he put her down in the living room near me and Celeste. He didn't say anything, just took off, and didn't come back for a long time. The little girl woke up, and I gave her the bottle in her carrier, and she went back to sleep. Then she woke up again, and didn't want her bottle, and seemed to be bothered by the loud TV, so Celeste moved her to the other side of the room from the TV. The guy came back maybe twenty minutes later and saw his baby where we had moved her, and he had the nerve to give us a dirty look as he brought her right back over and put her next to me. Me, and the 2-foot-tall speakers. He went to give her the bottle again, and I said, "I don't think she wants it," and I swear, I'm not making this up, he looked up at me and smiled this real big, shit-eating grin, and said, "She's a chick, she doesn't know what she wants!" And he tried giving her the bottle and she didn't want it, and he just left her there and walked away again.
And then the twelve-year-old came and sat down next to us, and from what she was saying, I realized that this was her dad's weekend visitation with them. And he brought them over to this stoner musician's house at 8:30 p.m. and left them both sitting in the living room with nothing to do, and apparently assumed that any women present would naturally take responsibility for them. I really feel sorry for whatever unfortunate woman procreated with that asshole.
Celeste and I left as soon as it seemed polite. I ended up staying the night at her house because it was closer to work. I haven't slept in my clothes in a long time, nor have I slept in a daybed in a long time. Maybe that's why I woke up on Sunday morning feeling strangely teenager-y? It wasn't bad, just disorienting. Or maybe it was that serotonin-boosting nine hours of sleep I got that made me wonder who in the hell I was when I woke up? Yeah, that's right, I go up there to hang out with the musicians and live the rockstar lifestyle, (not really), and end up asleep by 11:30 p.m.! Ha!
While I was at work on Sunday, Jimmy called and said the kids were still sick but he had everything under control. He figured I might as well not come hurrying home, if I had something else I wanted to do. So, after work, I went straight over to my mom's and took a nap. Yes, nine hours of sleep with a side order of sleep and some extra sleep on the side, please. Wow. Then I came home and got about six and a half hours last night. And woke up feeling like I could use another six and a half. Oh, well.
Y'know how Rachel was sick last week? Well, James and Selah are home today, and they both sound like little frogs. For breakfast, I made this weird poached eggs-and-crackers concoction that someone taught me years ago. You add butter and a little of the poaching water to it until it becomes, basically, a mush. I figured it would be easy on froggy throats. Neither of them was all that hungry, but James did say it was good.
I'm proud of myself, because the chair we use at the computer started to collapse under me when I sat on it this morning, so I flipped it over, found out what was wrong, and fixed it. As I mentioned to my mom last night: I can't think of better training for anything else that one might want to do in life, than raising a large family. It certainly gives one's problem-solving skills a work out.
Speaking of problem-solving skills: I keep figuring out more and more of the social/political structure of my werewolf world. You'd be surprised how often I sit down to write some throw-away bit or bob and realize that first I need to figure out the power structure ... My hat is off, even more so than usual, to the Tolkiens and other fine world-builders out there. That shit ain't easy.
Then another guy showed up. This is the irritating part. He had his twelve-year-old daughter with him, and a one-year-old girl in a baby carrier. The little one was asleep and he put her down in the living room near me and Celeste. He didn't say anything, just took off, and didn't come back for a long time. The little girl woke up, and I gave her the bottle in her carrier, and she went back to sleep. Then she woke up again, and didn't want her bottle, and seemed to be bothered by the loud TV, so Celeste moved her to the other side of the room from the TV. The guy came back maybe twenty minutes later and saw his baby where we had moved her, and he had the nerve to give us a dirty look as he brought her right back over and put her next to me. Me, and the 2-foot-tall speakers. He went to give her the bottle again, and I said, "I don't think she wants it," and I swear, I'm not making this up, he looked up at me and smiled this real big, shit-eating grin, and said, "She's a chick, she doesn't know what she wants!" And he tried giving her the bottle and she didn't want it, and he just left her there and walked away again.
And then the twelve-year-old came and sat down next to us, and from what she was saying, I realized that this was her dad's weekend visitation with them. And he brought them over to this stoner musician's house at 8:30 p.m. and left them both sitting in the living room with nothing to do, and apparently assumed that any women present would naturally take responsibility for them. I really feel sorry for whatever unfortunate woman procreated with that asshole.
Celeste and I left as soon as it seemed polite. I ended up staying the night at her house because it was closer to work. I haven't slept in my clothes in a long time, nor have I slept in a daybed in a long time. Maybe that's why I woke up on Sunday morning feeling strangely teenager-y? It wasn't bad, just disorienting. Or maybe it was that serotonin-boosting nine hours of sleep I got that made me wonder who in the hell I was when I woke up? Yeah, that's right, I go up there to hang out with the musicians and live the rockstar lifestyle, (not really), and end up asleep by 11:30 p.m.! Ha!
While I was at work on Sunday, Jimmy called and said the kids were still sick but he had everything under control. He figured I might as well not come hurrying home, if I had something else I wanted to do. So, after work, I went straight over to my mom's and took a nap. Yes, nine hours of sleep with a side order of sleep and some extra sleep on the side, please. Wow. Then I came home and got about six and a half hours last night. And woke up feeling like I could use another six and a half. Oh, well.
Y'know how Rachel was sick last week? Well, James and Selah are home today, and they both sound like little frogs. For breakfast, I made this weird poached eggs-and-crackers concoction that someone taught me years ago. You add butter and a little of the poaching water to it until it becomes, basically, a mush. I figured it would be easy on froggy throats. Neither of them was all that hungry, but James did say it was good.
I'm proud of myself, because the chair we use at the computer started to collapse under me when I sat on it this morning, so I flipped it over, found out what was wrong, and fixed it. As I mentioned to my mom last night: I can't think of better training for anything else that one might want to do in life, than raising a large family. It certainly gives one's problem-solving skills a work out.
Speaking of problem-solving skills: I keep figuring out more and more of the social/political structure of my werewolf world. You'd be surprised how often I sit down to write some throw-away bit or bob and realize that first I need to figure out the power structure ... My hat is off, even more so than usual, to the Tolkiens and other fine world-builders out there. That shit ain't easy.