Just updated the software for my iPhone, and I lost all my contacts. If I weren't a mature adult, I'd throw it on the floor, stomp on it a few times and curse it with a thousand deaths. But I am a grown up with full control of myself, so I'll just put it back in my pocket, be content with screaming "FAAAAAH QUUUUUUE" loudly enough that it gives the neighbors pause, and go about my life.
Oh, iPhone, why dost thou farsake me?
So I haven't had a chance to tell you all about the fun I had over the holiday weekend. I went with my family to San Antonio since my family reunion (mom's side) was effectively cancelled the week before. We decided to spend that time with Granny (who did marvelously with her radiation, thank you, and decided to go ahead with chemo, which she starts this week), and take Tyler to the San Antonio Zoo. Three day long pool party and the zoo, or hours sitting in the heat with distant relatives I see only once a year, if that often? Hmmm, tough choice...
We showed up at Granny's house Friday morning (after being diverted by SAPD from the neighborhood 4th of July parade route, complete with kids on bikes and people waving flags from the beds of pickup trucks) and had a blast that afternoon swimming and cooking out hot dogs and playing Scrabble, and didn't even really give any thought to watching any Fourth of July fireworks until the baby was in bed, and Molly brought it up.
"Let's go watch the show at Fiesta Texas."
So we changed out of our swimwear and loaded up into the car to head a couple miles up the highway so we could park on the side of the access road of I-10 and watch the fireworks display there. It was nice, but there was a hill between us and the park, which prevented us from seeing anything but the biggest and brightest explosions. I guess we got our money's worth.
After that we decided to go buy some sparklers and little fountains and things to show Tyler the next day. The only problem with that plan was that the county had banned all fireworks earlier in the year because of draught conditions. The fireworks vendors didn't sit too kindly with that decision, so they proposed to set up safe zones for people to set them off outside of city limits, in return for letting them continue with their regularly scheduled sales. The county accepted and added fire department and police presence to keep all the crazies in check.
Pops had read the paper that morning and knew that there was one nearby, but he apparently forgot where it was because we went on a wild goose chase halfway around town before we finally pulled out our iPhones and figured out just where in the crap we were going. It turned out that the safe zone was actually just a few miles beyond the spot where we had been parked an hour or so earlier outside of Fiesta Texas, and I think Molly would have lost her cool once or twice if we had not passed by an even better fireworks show while we were lost.
Anyway, as we neared the safe zone, traffic started to build up, slowing to a crawl. I think the entire north side of town showed up to this one location that night. They had a huge warehouse set up to sell firecrackers and roman candles and artillery shells, and the pasture next to it was FILLED with the residents of the Alamo City, all setting off huge, booming fireworks at the same time. It was amazing.
Seriously. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Think about every time you have ever seen a fireworks show, and then picture a hundred of those shows happening at the same time, in the same square mile. Think about every time you have set off fireworks with your friends and been disappointed when they weren't very big, or didn't last very long, or cost too much money. The safe zone solved all those problems. We spent a few bucks, enjoyed over an hour of non-stop fireworks (which continued into the night after we made our exit), and since we were also able to enjoy the more expensive stuff that other people were buying and setting off for all to see, there was no shortage of huge, beautiful, booming pyrotechnics. They might not have been as awesome as the ones being set off in Philadelphia that night, but we had front row seats, which made it seem better than anything Disney or the Olympics has ever given me.
I hope they do it again next year. I hope you get a chance to come, too. It's the best thing to happen to July 4th since the Declaration of Independence. Okay, that may be a stretch. But you get the picture.
So I have a regular babysitting gig on Friday nights. Saturday belongs to the in-laws, but Fridays are all mine. I get off work and rush to Molly's house, where my dad has been holding down the fort for an hour-ish so my sister can go to work (she is mostly a stay-at-home mommy, but she works on Friday and Saturday nights - and sometimes a random day or two mid-week - at a snooty high-dollar place out on the lake west of town). Usually by the time I get there, the living room is scattered with toys and the baby is hauling around a thirty pound diaper that Pops refuses to change. Thanks, Dad.
This week was just like any other week. I showed up right about beer thirty, and Pops had plans to celebrate the start of the weekend, so he cut outta there pretty much as soon as I got there. So I changed the little man and fed him dinner, and settled onto the floor next to where the toy bomb had gone off. I sat, leaning against the coffee table, as Tyler crawled into the room, eager to show me each of his toys, for the eight hundredth First Time Ever, Look at THIS one, can you BELIEVE how AWESOME these TOYS ARE?
He slowly worked his way through the toys, and as he lost interest and moved on, I tossed the poor discarded items into the toy basket that Molly stores under the end table nearby. He made it to the ottoman about five feet away and pulled up to a standing position. Nothing new there, the kid is a professional at the standing, and has recently moved on to the more advanced standing-without-assistance-or-holding-on-to-anything.
I picked up this contraption that has buttons and switches that, when pressed or thrown, release five little doors jack-in-the-box style, revealing five different zoo animals. Tyler doesn't quite get how to make the doors open yet, but he LOOOOVES to close the doors if someone ELSE opens them first. He had his back to me, and since I am desperate for his attention and acknowledgement as his favorite aunt, I couldn't have that, no sir.
"Hey, Tyler, look at this!"
He turned around to face me, saw the toy, and then he WALKED! OVER! TO ME!
From the other side of the room! Okay, it was only a few feet, but it was MILES to him. He did it, and when he started it was just like, whatev, I do this all the time, but then he realized he was walking after he'd already made it into no man's land, where he couldn't grab onto anything to steady himself, and he got so excited and freaked out that he barrelled the rest of the way straight into my outstretched arms.
I was thrilled, and proud, and all that crap, but it wasn't until Molly got home that night that I realized, after saying "Tell me you've seen that baby walk," and her replying "Nuh UHH! He WALKED?", that I saw his first steps. His first trip was to visit me (across the living room). He could crawl any old day, but to see me? He WALKS!
So of course I had to cry, alot because Molly missed it, but mainly because I got to have a first, all by myself. I haven't gotten to witness any of his firsts, and this is a pretty major one, one that we've all been waiting for for weeks. And it was MINE! So yeah, it was awesome.
So okay, it’s not all quite as bad as I may have intimated in my last post. Maybe that was just me, in a mood. I am not a hate-monger, really. Except where Bush is concerned. He mystifies me, so I’m passionate about that one. But really, the lion’s share of my hatred has subsided. Actually, in an effort to persuade you all (and maybe myself, as well) to believe in my rising level of contentment, here’s a list of a few things that are joy-inducing:
1. I got my job back a couple of weeks ago. It’s the same place I was temping at, but now they have enough business to keep me, especially since they lost an employee during the time that I was on my “hiatus”. This time is different, though, because I got a raise and benefits and permanent status. And all I had to do was not work for five weeks, making it the easiest raise I’ve ever earned.
2. My nephew is crawling, and is totally liquored up and pissed off about the fact that he can’t walk. Now that he has his get-along in gear, I think it’s dawned on him that the crawling business is just a precursor to actual bipedal motion, and he is frustrated at his own legs for not being quite as ready for walking as his heart.
3. Speaking of hearts, Heart was on Idol Gives Back. Ann Wilson. On stage. Is it lame that tears sprung to my eyes when the spotlight hit her?
4. Speaking of Idol Gives Back, I just have to say that, as someone who is generally ambivalent about Carrie Underwood, the combination of her and “Praying for Time” was my favorite part of the whole dang show. I watched it three times. In a row. That’s always been one of my favorite songs because of the message and George Michael’s mournful sense of urgency in the original, but for whatever reason, when she sang it last night, I had an emotional response to the song’s lyrics and structure that I had never had before, and I found myself having to struggle to catch my breath, all the while having to restrain myself from licking the television screen because it was so beautiful. Was it just because of all the sad, hungry, poverty-stricken children in the show’s vignettes, plucking my liberal bleeding-heart-strings? Or was her iridescent gown playing tricks on my eyes, causing me to have a crisis of conscience? Who knows?
5. Only twenty-two shopping days are left…
6. Have I ever mentioned my love of Big Brother? Because, yeah. I love Big Brother.
7. Oh, and Survivor.
8. And The Office is back tonight. Praise the baby Jesus!
Hate America.
Hate Bush.
Hate war.
Hate economy.
Hate weather.
Hate home.
Hate car.
Hate body.
Hate hair.
Hate skin.
Hate clothes.
Hate self.
Hate life.
So I think I have a job. If so, I won't start until next week because they have no equipment for me to use in the execution of said job, so I am still wasting my time in the usual pursuits. And that, my friend, is perhaps contributing to my lack of posting, because in the meantime I am spending waaaaay too much time watching reality television. Seriously, why do they have to put Big Brother (bonus in-season run - woo hoo! And the best part - even better than the fact that they are still gonna run the regular summer season this July - is that Molly is hooked on it now, too. Like heroin. So I have someone to talk to about it, which never happens, because this is America, not the UK, where people have their Big Brother priorities straight), Survivor, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, AND The Bachelor on TV all at the same time? I mean, this is a recipe for brain rot. I sleep late (because, duh, no job), and then I go to Molly's to babysit (because, duh, I'm not working and am available to babysit, which makes it possible for her to pick up shifts at the restaurant), and then when the nephew is sleeping I am basically watching all the reality television that there ever was.
And it's all so delicious!
Also, ABC has all the back episodes of Lost available in HD on their website, which is no good for me, because the only reason I've never gotten into that show is because I missed the first half of season one (for what reason, I can't remember), and I have this compulsion to do things in order, from first to last. But now I have started watching Lost online, and hellooooo, my new television friend!!! What is with the cliffhangers on EVERY EPISODE? It's like some crazy scheme they cooked up to keep viewers, or something. Those bastards.
Oh, and one last thing, so I can put it out in the universe. I am soooo happy that Amanda Skunkermyer is no longer on Idol. It's reason enough to buy a ticket for the tour when it comes through town.
Fuck Yeah! Cloud Sandwich!
