The other day mako-kun, my little, made Missy laugh a lot by indulging in a little Musical Toothbrush Action while we were brushing our teeth.
Here's an example (not me) of the sort of thing I'm talking about.
Missy just laughed and laughed and laughed some more. I love that, and love her. There's something really special about the guileless, innocent, goofy humor my little has. It connects me to something really good, that I don't have adequate words to describe, but love all the same.
I was working from home the other day when I got a call from my old friend, J. She and I worked together several jobs ago, for about a year.
J's one of a very small number of special friends I have. She's a work friend, and a good one, who knows all about me.
Yes, all about me. We had been working together several months when I distinctly got the sense that we were close enough that I could share the icing parts of my cake life with her. One day we went out for lunch, and had a nice long talk about all sorts of interesting things.
She was utterly unperturbed, even delighted to hear about the various exotic aspects of my non-work life.
The job we both worked at was the sort of soul-eating, tiresome, pointless stuff that can drain the very life from your veins. My friendship with J. went a long way toward making our office a place I looked forward to visiting. We were in one another's corner, fast friends.
I ended up leaving that project, and then about a year or so later, leaving that company altogether.
But every so often, J. and I check in with one another. This particular day was just that sort of thing. She called me up, and we caught up, talking about our lives, changes since we'd last spoken, new work, new side projects, our personal lives, the whole deal. I told her how refreshing it was to have her, a good friend who I haven't seen naked, who I can talk with about my life which includes lovely people who I often do see naked. There's something great about having a friend who lives in the Clark Kent world I also occupy, while being open to hearing about my um, "Kryptonian" exploits with my superpowered friends.
We talked for over 2 hours, and they just flew by. I'm grateful for her friendship.
"Pool there is amazing. But when going through the locker room, look straight ahead, or you'll see naked people."
Lately, I've taken to using FourSquare from time to time. It's fun, and several people I love use it. Every so often it tosses a "tip" my way that just makes me laugh.
Like this one from when I went to the pool the other day.
I'm not too worried about seeing the naked folks though.
Slowly but surely, I'm getting back into walking and running. Went out for a nice 3 mile walk the other day.
And it was a walk, not a run. But that's okay. Actually, it was great.
At 17 minutes per mile, I wasn't exactly tearing up the streets
I walked at a good, solid pace, and explored, walking down streets I hadn't gone down before. There were hills. I got sweaty. It was good.
Afterward, I felt happy with my calorie burn, and that I'd just got out there and done it.
More, please.
So my girl Katie and I made a plan to get out of town for a getaway weekend. We were going to go to a cabin in the middle-of-nowhere (which as it happens, is only about 90 minutes outside of Washington DC, who knew?), and she was going to get to be little, and I would be big.
I decided to read her a story. I went looking for an old familiar favorite book I loved as a kid, that I could read her at bedtime. It's called The Girl with The Silver Eyes. It's about a girl (who is also named Kate) who has silver eyes and is telekinetic.
It's kind of a grammar-school x-men pre-story. The book came out in the 1980's, and isn't available as an e-book.
I ordered it right away, and it came a few days before our trip.
I loved reading it to Katie as she drifted off to sleep in bed next to me. It was a sweet, tender experience. I actually ended up staying up way later than Katie, because I got wrapped up in the book.
Reading it as an adult, and as an author, was so different from when I first read it as a kid. All the stuff I loved was still there. But I could see "how the sausage was made", and did find the book lacking in many places. There was some really ham-fisted foreshadowing, and some plot elements which didn't quite click. It's funny too - the book very much shows its age. There's no Internet, no cell phones, and a certain sort of social naivety to the book which make it very, very dated. But I could still see the essential magic that made me like the book in the first place. It makes me want to go back and read lots of stuff from when I was a kid.
I especially want to do this with Katie. I like reading to her.
