The tree is being reintroduced to its box at this very moment. Gavin, with the same efficiency he showed taking out the ornaments in the beginning, took down the ornaments and passed them to us for packaging. It was a great season this year, I'm sad to see it go.
Yesterday, Mike took us out too look for New Year's Eve supplies. We bought all the snacks in Costco and were very sad about their lack of drinkable beer. My mother dragged off a huge roast for us to gnaw on. Back at home, I sat around in my newly-clean living room (with thanks to my mother for taking Gavin out while I got the place in order) and zoned out in front of Robotech while my mother annoyed the neighbors by letting Gavin interact with their kids. After the boy was safe in bed, Mike and I snuggled up in front of Garden State while Invader Zim shrieked from my mother's bedroom upstairs.
Today we'll continue our hunt for Guinness, champagne, soda, and fireworks, as Mike winds up for his party tomorrow night at his drummer's house. We all hold out hope that Gavin will sleep soundly with Gabe's babies despite the noise, so that I may stay the night and be designated driver for Mike and my mom. Otherwise, I'm looking at a lonely New Year's Eve with the cats. We will see.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Monday, December 27, 2004
Beyond Boxing Day
We spent most of the day washing our cars yesterday. Gavin refilled his little bucket over and over to help rinse the soap off. We vacuumed and dusted, then applied Santa's gift of Armor-al and RainEx. The cars look spiffy, and Gavin had a good time chasing the neighbor boys with his bucket.
In the evening, we packed up potluck food and went to the Boxing Day party at my aunt's coffee shop. Gavin enjoyed a big plate of pumpkin pie, the rest of us enjoyed roasted lamb, pomegranate, chicken salad, sushi, and rum-soaked figgy pudding. I even had a glass of scotch on the rocks, which I never do, and I remembered why. During the gift exchange, we scored a calendar of Scotland. Inspiration for Mike and I when considering our long-overdue honeymoon.
This morning I cringed when I stepped on the scale, and was surprised to see I had lost a pound. That makes 34 in all so far. It was a Christmas miracle, I think, considering the amount of chocolate I ate in 2 days.
Gavin puts glasses on his head to look like mama:
Gavin acts cool, practicing to be a teenager at the wheel:
Po is very impressed by Gavin's driving abilities:
Gavin helps daddy rinse the car:
In the evening, we packed up potluck food and went to the Boxing Day party at my aunt's coffee shop. Gavin enjoyed a big plate of pumpkin pie, the rest of us enjoyed roasted lamb, pomegranate, chicken salad, sushi, and rum-soaked figgy pudding. I even had a glass of scotch on the rocks, which I never do, and I remembered why. During the gift exchange, we scored a calendar of Scotland. Inspiration for Mike and I when considering our long-overdue honeymoon.
This morning I cringed when I stepped on the scale, and was surprised to see I had lost a pound. That makes 34 in all so far. It was a Christmas miracle, I think, considering the amount of chocolate I ate in 2 days.
Gavin puts glasses on his head to look like mama:
Gavin acts cool, practicing to be a teenager at the wheel:
Po is very impressed by Gavin's driving abilities:
Gavin helps daddy rinse the car:
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Christmas 2004
For the first time since I was a little girl, I had dreams of full stockings and woke up every hour until morning. When Gavin yawned and stretched, I poked him until I saw his eyes pop open, and jumped out of bed. Stockings! Presents!
Gavin made happy noises about everything he pulled out of his stocking, pausing to appreciate his new crayons and coloring book before dumping his candy on the floor. I did the same. We tore into the presents, which were mostly for Gavin. I was really happy to get a complete set of Robotech DVDs and photo printer, Mike loved his new iPod, my mom was happy to get a stereo for her own iPod, and Gavin got enough train track to circle the living room twice. Books, movies, t-shirts, and more!
When breakfast time came, my mother made eggs Benedict. We plugged in my shiny new brushed-steel toaster. "Something smells like burning paper," I said a minute later. "Well, it's a new toaster," my mom said uncertainly, but she looked inside and yelped, then unplugged the toaster and pulled a flaming warranty card out with a pair of tongs. We have half a mind to sent it to the manufacturer as a statement about packing paper inside toasters.
Breakfast was perfect, and we spent the morning lying around fatly while Gavin made gourmet plastic meals with his new microwave, stove, and dish sets. He poured us all "tea" and we sipped politely. We took pictures when Gavin painted his face with wet M&Ms and pretended he was a pirate, dropped him into bed when he fell asleep standing up, and watched the latest Harry Potter movie until he woke up.
That evening, as Mike headed to work, we escaped hosting the holiday meal by visiting my aunt instead. The boys played with Chris' toys and the adults lit the pudding on fire with a dowse of rum. Gavin and I fell asleep together as soon as we returned home, sleeping like logs until morning. It was a great day.
Gavin made happy noises about everything he pulled out of his stocking, pausing to appreciate his new crayons and coloring book before dumping his candy on the floor. I did the same. We tore into the presents, which were mostly for Gavin. I was really happy to get a complete set of Robotech DVDs and photo printer, Mike loved his new iPod, my mom was happy to get a stereo for her own iPod, and Gavin got enough train track to circle the living room twice. Books, movies, t-shirts, and more!
When breakfast time came, my mother made eggs Benedict. We plugged in my shiny new brushed-steel toaster. "Something smells like burning paper," I said a minute later. "Well, it's a new toaster," my mom said uncertainly, but she looked inside and yelped, then unplugged the toaster and pulled a flaming warranty card out with a pair of tongs. We have half a mind to sent it to the manufacturer as a statement about packing paper inside toasters.
Breakfast was perfect, and we spent the morning lying around fatly while Gavin made gourmet plastic meals with his new microwave, stove, and dish sets. He poured us all "tea" and we sipped politely. We took pictures when Gavin painted his face with wet M&Ms and pretended he was a pirate, dropped him into bed when he fell asleep standing up, and watched the latest Harry Potter movie until he woke up.
That evening, as Mike headed to work, we escaped hosting the holiday meal by visiting my aunt instead. The boys played with Chris' toys and the adults lit the pudding on fire with a dowse of rum. Gavin and I fell asleep together as soon as we returned home, sleeping like logs until morning. It was a great day.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
The Christmas Spirit strikes again
Merry X-mas, indeed. A big thank-you goes out to the folks who left us this life-sized holiday message spray-painted on our car! A fitting symbol of the season. Ho ho ho.
Assoles.
I have pulled on my new Christmas sweater and am prepared to spend one last day out shopping on Santa's behalf. We are hunting for foil-wrapped Chocolate Oranges.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Over the hills and through the rain
Fate is testing my driving abilities these days. The rain came down in buckets as I kissed my baby goodbye and ran to the car. Why I didn't think to bring an umbrella at that point, I don't know. I waded through rivers of runoff as I headed toward the most treacherous cliff-side road on the island. I made an excuse to stop at 7-11 on the way and buy a diet soda (another Pepsi? Am I nuts?) and kicked the tires to be sure I wouldn't fly off the mountain. Even with the stormy weather, I arrived a half hour early for my appointment at the library. I parked as close as I could and sat safely in the car, contemplating my next move. The radio was on, and I settled back to listen and think, realizing that I couldn't remember the last time I had just sat and listened to music. The last time may have been in college, 3 or 4 years ago. In the glove box there was a yellow emergency raincoat, but I decided to forego it, kind of like how the WWI pilots chose to forego parachutes because they weren't stylish enough. After all, how wet could I get?
The emergency entrance to the library ever since the flood is all the way around back. By the time I got to the front door, I was drenched. When I arrived around back, I was soaked to the skin and shivering. While I waited for one of the assistants to find the secretary, I searched for a dry patch of shirt to wipe my face. Finding none, I smeared the water around and pulled my hair into a bun to disguise it. It seemed to work. I filled out my paperwork and was pronounced officially hired, then cursed my way back through the rain to the car. I should have taken off the shirt and wrung it out when I got in the car, but instead I turned on the hot air and immediately steamed up all the windows. I hate driving in bad weather. Forget it, I'm never moving to the mainland.
The emergency entrance to the library ever since the flood is all the way around back. By the time I got to the front door, I was drenched. When I arrived around back, I was soaked to the skin and shivering. While I waited for one of the assistants to find the secretary, I searched for a dry patch of shirt to wipe my face. Finding none, I smeared the water around and pulled my hair into a bun to disguise it. It seemed to work. I filled out my paperwork and was pronounced officially hired, then cursed my way back through the rain to the car. I should have taken off the shirt and wrung it out when I got in the car, but instead I turned on the hot air and immediately steamed up all the windows. I hate driving in bad weather. Forget it, I'm never moving to the mainland.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Grades are in
Look at me, sitting pretty with a 4.0 gpa this semester. This pulls my cumulative average up above 3.0, and makes me wish I could go back to 2001 and kick my unclassified ass for doing a shitty job in that random class I took.
Today I drove over the mountain to fill out paperwork for my new job. As I drove through the Pali tunnels, a motorcycle tore around me and almost caused me to kill myself. My mother once saw an ad for motorcycle tours of the Big Island, complete with Road Captain. I contemplated the idea of Road Captains for the rest of the ride to the university.
I downed a Diet Pepsi and walked across the empty campus to the student service center, where I brandished my gpa and managed to get a job referral which would allow me to work at the library. My mother told me recently about a man who stopped to take a piss next to a highway and was struck by ball lightning, incinerating a path from his heel, up his leg, and hollowing out his body cavity. From her descriptions, Pepsi does the very same thing to her. And, as it happens, to me as well. It feels terrible. While waiting for my appointment and feeling jittery, I discovered that the women's room was closed for cleaning, and snuck into the men's room instead. I'm such a rebel.
Tomorrow I have yet another date with paperwork at the university, after which I will be trained and scheduled and, much later, paid. Sorry to leave my (three?) readers with fewer tales of Human Resources, but that is how it must be. It must!
Today I drove over the mountain to fill out paperwork for my new job. As I drove through the Pali tunnels, a motorcycle tore around me and almost caused me to kill myself. My mother once saw an ad for motorcycle tours of the Big Island, complete with Road Captain. I contemplated the idea of Road Captains for the rest of the ride to the university.
I downed a Diet Pepsi and walked across the empty campus to the student service center, where I brandished my gpa and managed to get a job referral which would allow me to work at the library. My mother told me recently about a man who stopped to take a piss next to a highway and was struck by ball lightning, incinerating a path from his heel, up his leg, and hollowing out his body cavity. From her descriptions, Pepsi does the very same thing to her. And, as it happens, to me as well. It feels terrible. While waiting for my appointment and feeling jittery, I discovered that the women's room was closed for cleaning, and snuck into the men's room instead. I'm such a rebel.
Tomorrow I have yet another date with paperwork at the university, after which I will be trained and scheduled and, much later, paid. Sorry to leave my (three?) readers with fewer tales of Human Resources, but that is how it must be. It must!
Monday, December 20, 2004
Meaty meats.
Printing is tedious work. Samples must be given to the chiropractor to prove I am, in fact, illustrating his book. Mike went to his last practice of the year before his New Year's party, and he sat for half an hour quietly playing guitar in the living room. I get the feeling he thinks I don't like his music, he rarely does it in front of me, but I do like it. It reminds me of who he is, and of our college days when we laid around together doing our own things, me drawing and him strumming. I miss him sometimes.
Yesterday my mother, Gavin, and I went through Costco with hungry eyes, picking out our Christmas dinner. We settled on a huge package of thick, marbled rib eye steaks, and a pack of lamb shanks. We figure we can wing it with the veggies. I don't think I'll be doing my food tracking on Christmas, which is why I'm sitting here with a bag of grapes on my lap. Have to watch it if I want to break even this week. So far so good; less than a week until Christmas, and I've still lost 3 lbs this month. I mention this because today is Monday; the day I step on the scale and record my results. I love Mondays.
Yesterday my mother, Gavin, and I went through Costco with hungry eyes, picking out our Christmas dinner. We settled on a huge package of thick, marbled rib eye steaks, and a pack of lamb shanks. We figure we can wing it with the veggies. I don't think I'll be doing my food tracking on Christmas, which is why I'm sitting here with a bag of grapes on my lap. Have to watch it if I want to break even this week. So far so good; less than a week until Christmas, and I've still lost 3 lbs this month. I mention this because today is Monday; the day I step on the scale and record my results. I love Mondays.
Friday, December 17, 2004
A trip to Kaaawa
As Gavin splashed happily in the sink, experimenting with soap and toothbrushes, my mother called to beg me for a favor. She had forgotten to bring a present for the staff party, and I needed to assemble something and deliver it up. I got a basket and stuffed it with packets of instant cider, chai, Christmas candy, and the McDonalds gift certificates Mike had won at his Christmas party. After a few pathetic attempts to wrap the basket, I tied a sagging bow around it and popped Gavin in the car for the ride.
The road to Kaaawa is dangerous on a good day; it's one of those winding country roads with two narrow lanes, no visibility, and a poor excuse for a shoulder. As Gavin drooped slowly into sleep, I turned up the music and watched the ocean waves against the rocks on the side of the road. The giant trees were covered with vines and fruits, and tiny yellow leaves showered the road, almost glittering in the sun. We passed the ranch, where a cowboy rode through the fields with his rope flying, and I enjoyed the smell of hay and manure as we rounded the bend. The mountains split open past the ranch, into a valley with tiny white birds flying in the mist. As we parked behind my mother's white bug and I pulled my limp baby from his seat, I regretted that I hadn't brought our suits, to take advantage of the beach on such a clear, warm day. Maybe I'll take him swimming this afternoon.
Gavin is up now, my mother has her gift, and I stopped by 7-11 to pick up musubi and drinks for lunch. It's time to drive home. My assignments are done, school is out, and I have nothing to do but enjoy the day.
The road to Kaaawa is dangerous on a good day; it's one of those winding country roads with two narrow lanes, no visibility, and a poor excuse for a shoulder. As Gavin drooped slowly into sleep, I turned up the music and watched the ocean waves against the rocks on the side of the road. The giant trees were covered with vines and fruits, and tiny yellow leaves showered the road, almost glittering in the sun. We passed the ranch, where a cowboy rode through the fields with his rope flying, and I enjoyed the smell of hay and manure as we rounded the bend. The mountains split open past the ranch, into a valley with tiny white birds flying in the mist. As we parked behind my mother's white bug and I pulled my limp baby from his seat, I regretted that I hadn't brought our suits, to take advantage of the beach on such a clear, warm day. Maybe I'll take him swimming this afternoon.
Gavin is up now, my mother has her gift, and I stopped by 7-11 to pick up musubi and drinks for lunch. It's time to drive home. My assignments are done, school is out, and I have nothing to do but enjoy the day.
Gavin turns 2
The little man turned 2 yesterday! For most of the day, the poor kid had to follow me around on errands. We drove up to Kaaawa to visit his grandma and help her decorate the cafeteria for the school play today. Gavin helped me paint the mural and apply sparkles, then joined us for a bag lunch of musubi, milk, and apples. My mother finished her final paper in the 11th hour, and we zoomed down to the university to deliver it in the nick of time. Gavin and I walked across campus, through the fallen leaves and past the gardens of cats, to deliver my library books at Sinclair (my future place of employment). On the way home, we picked up dinner.
We stuffed ourselves on Thai food in honor of the night I went into labor, Gavin ate sticky rice and made faces over the chicken curry, then we came out with the cake and he blew out his candles like a pro. He dug in with both hands before I could get it served. He liked the whole present thing, but was annoyed when I kept handing him things to unwrap, when I could clearly see he already had a toy to play with. The most popular gifts were the little pink doll houses. He enjoyed reading his new books before bed time (which I had to read "doh" - aka "again") and he got up first thing this morning asking to play with his toys and eat "pie". I can't believe my baby is 2 already! Just before bed, I laughed to Mike about how great Gavin was all day, and how nobody could accuse him of being in his "terrible twos". Right on cue, Gavin smacked me in the face. He was a bit confused when we burst out laughing. (In his defense, he knows he's only allowed to smack people on the butt, and sometimes he has trouble telling between my butt and my head. Doesn't say anything good about my looks, does it?)
We stuffed ourselves on Thai food in honor of the night I went into labor, Gavin ate sticky rice and made faces over the chicken curry, then we came out with the cake and he blew out his candles like a pro. He dug in with both hands before I could get it served. He liked the whole present thing, but was annoyed when I kept handing him things to unwrap, when I could clearly see he already had a toy to play with. The most popular gifts were the little pink doll houses. He enjoyed reading his new books before bed time (which I had to read "doh" - aka "again") and he got up first thing this morning asking to play with his toys and eat "pie". I can't believe my baby is 2 already! Just before bed, I laughed to Mike about how great Gavin was all day, and how nobody could accuse him of being in his "terrible twos". Right on cue, Gavin smacked me in the face. He was a bit confused when we burst out laughing. (In his defense, he knows he's only allowed to smack people on the butt, and sometimes he has trouble telling between my butt and my head. Doesn't say anything good about my looks, does it?)
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
The interview that wasn't
Last night I surprised myself by finishing up all 52 pages of my final papers, an entire day early.
Proudly bearing two manila envelopes stuffed with my homework, I gathered up the baby (as Mike unexpectedly was summoned to work) and drove to the university to tie up loose ends. We dropped off my envelopes in my professor's box, walked over to the student employment office to bargain with them over my eligibility to work for the library, and headed over for my informal second interview. On the way, Gavin and I hid behind a big surfer from a crazy man screaming at an invisible enemy ("She's FUCKING hot, I'm gonna FUCK YOU UP man, WHAT?? You fucker!"), and stopped for a Thai tapioca at the campus Bale cafe before arriving at the library and discovering my interviewer had called in sick. I left my contact information and headed back to the car. As we passed under the shade of a banyan tree, someone said, "Beautiful child you have there." I looked up, surprised, to see one of our resident homeless men smiling at me.
"You're doing the most important job in the world, you know, raising a beautiful healthy child."
"Thank you," I said.
"No, thank you," he said, saluting me. Made my day.
Proudly bearing two manila envelopes stuffed with my homework, I gathered up the baby (as Mike unexpectedly was summoned to work) and drove to the university to tie up loose ends. We dropped off my envelopes in my professor's box, walked over to the student employment office to bargain with them over my eligibility to work for the library, and headed over for my informal second interview. On the way, Gavin and I hid behind a big surfer from a crazy man screaming at an invisible enemy ("She's FUCKING hot, I'm gonna FUCK YOU UP man, WHAT?? You fucker!"), and stopped for a Thai tapioca at the campus Bale cafe before arriving at the library and discovering my interviewer had called in sick. I left my contact information and headed back to the car. As we passed under the shade of a banyan tree, someone said, "Beautiful child you have there." I looked up, surprised, to see one of our resident homeless men smiling at me.
"You're doing the most important job in the world, you know, raising a beautiful healthy child."
"Thank you," I said.
"No, thank you," he said, saluting me. Made my day.
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