We = In California.
Trip = Good, so far
Van = Still gone.
I = Getting massage at 2:30 today.
Update = Imminent. Hang with me.
Till then I will leave you with a picture of a delicious baby. Enjoy.
....but I wonder if they know a bad song when they hear it?
This is the time of year when I turn off the Sixties on Six on XM radio and turn to their Christmas station, Holly. Unfortunately they have a habit of playing the same songs over. And over. And over. One of their most unfortunate choices is Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas?" I'm not sure that song could be any more smarmy and condescending. Contains possibly one of the worst lines in a charity song ever: "Tonight thank God it's them instead of you." That's either hideously cruel or unforgivably self-righteous (I'm leaning toward the latter, considering Bono was involved). Oh, and don't forget the classic, "There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas." Shit, really? I can't imagine. Do go on. I wasn't aware that the snow shortage in the desert and tropics was tops on the global crisis list. There won't be snow on California's central coast this Christmas, either, and I don't hear anyone writing a song about it. Of all the reasons I have to feel empathy for the people of Africa, the fact that it doesn't snow there at Christmas would not be anywhere close to on the list.
P.S. to Bob Geldof -- it snows in the Drakensberg mountain range in South Africa so, ostensibly, there WILL be snow in Africa this Christmas. Perhaps a bit of studying up on the geography of the next continent you so generously decide to save would be in order.
When I went to bed last night it was December but, when I awoke, I found myself on April 1st. That's the only explanation I have for this. Surely it must be a joke:
I'd like to say more, but, frankly, I'm dumbfounded. Why? And how? And who? But mostly WHY?
It's just so many different types of wrong.
While in the city this weekend I went to Best Buy and picked out a new laptop on Saturday night but the price of it was over our debit card's daily spending limit so we agreed I'd go back up there today with cash. I did and, to my great delight, discovered that the laptop had gone on sale Sunday so I ended up getting it for almost $200 less than we had expected to pay!
Now I'm sitting here catching up with all my online stuff, having spent the last hour customizing it and getting all my bookmarks and such set up. The first thing I did was download Firefox.
It's a lovely HP Pavilion Entertainment PC, which means it's got a really good video card and a cute little remote to control the media stuff. Wireless internet, of course, and Windows Vista. I am worried about changing to Vista but, I will admit, it's very, very pretty. And since I'm scarcely above the intellectual level of a seagull, in that I'm fascinated by shiny objects, I am impressed with Vista so far. If you haven't seen it, you can put different modules right on your desktop. I have a clock, a slide show of all the pictures on the computer, a feed of the top headlines and a little notepad for jotting things down.
The keyboard is also a little wider than my former laptop so it's more comfortable to use. Also the touchpad has the little area on the right edge of it that you can slide your finger down to scroll down the page. The first laptop I ever used (borrowed) had that and when I got miy former one I was disappointed that it didn't have that feature.
Ooh, I've got a built in webcam, too! I'll probably never use it but I am incurably gadget-obsessed and like knowing it's there, whether it's actually useful or not (this also applies to Robert, come to think of it).
Also, as part of my commitment to taking tip-top care of my new baby I purchased a laptop cooling pad. It has a built-in fan which keeps both my lap and the computer cool. A most excellent invention, I must say.
Now I must be off, for I have a moral dilemma which I need to ponder: would it be untoward of me to sleep with my new laptop under my pillow?
No crucifixes needed; dear Eliza could ward off vampires tonight on the strength of her breath alone.
We ate lunch at the Cheesecake Factory today and Eliza had one heck of a good time. First she had some sourdough bread and some dark brown bread that was possibly pumpernickel. Then the appetizers came and she sampled Robert's calamari. Nothing major; just a few tentacles. Next the salads were delivered and Eliza helped herself to Robert's Caesar. Lettuce doesn't gum up well so she sucked off all the dressing and ejected the greens. Then Robert gave her one of the giant croutons from the salad and she went to town on that for the longest time, sucking all the dressing out of it and whittling it away to half its former size.
I got broccoli cheese soup with my lunch. It had some sort of peppers in it, as the cheese tasted Mexican. I offered her some and she loved it. She insisted on taking the spoon and wouldn't be parted with it, objecting vociferously when I tried to remove it. Since she was still wearing her silk dress (it was after we'd had her picture taken) I didn't want to let her spoon feed herself so I dipped some bread in the soup and she was happy with that, and allowed me to take back the spoon. And, okay, in the interest of full disclosure I will admit that she also had some pumpkin cheesecake. Her reaction to that was priceless. I think if she could've gotten up and danced a jig on the table, she would have.
When we got home I kept catching whiffs of garlic breath and thought it was Robert exhaling in my direction. After a while I realized it was coming from my child, which is not exactly something you'd expect from an eight-month-old. That's Eliza for you, though. She doesn't want any of that bland, pureed crap, She'll take an order of seafood with its limbs still attached and a salad that would make Dracula quail in fear, and put some stank on it. And what will be worse than her breath tonight? Why, her diaper tomorrow, of course! Too bad I'll be in the city picking up my new laptop and will miss all the fun!