Jen is on a Nikka Costa kick right now. She comes home from work promptly at 9am, hits the stairs right over my head and bursts through the door, and presses play on the CD player. I don't care for Nikka Costa. I think she's horrid and over rated. And who cares if she's related to friggin Frank Sinatra. Nepotism only has its privileges with Jakob Dylan in my book.
At least most of her musical taste is good. She's also on an ABBA kick, so she's been playing the same two songs over and over. It's funny, makes me think of Linda.
Again with the rain here. It is pouring out. And it isn't going to stop until maybe tonight or tomorrow at latest report. We need the rain, sure. But it'd be nice if there could be a few minutes where Geoff could run around outside for a while. He has so much energy... that indoors for a full day turns into a lot of pent up Geoff.
He invented a game which we can play while I'm working on websites. It doesn't require a lot of my attention, just enough that I can participate and type at the same time.
I just spent the better part of 3 hours working on cateringman's site, and the better part of it was an hour of pokemon battle. I'm so close to being done that I could scream. But there's just so much I can do with Geoff, so at least this little game he made helps.
He hands me a pokemon card, and tells me we're having the battle. I have to say things like "Lapras! Use your water gun attack!" and he yells "Geodude! Use your punch stone!" and then he jumps around for 30 seconds and I have to then call out the next pokemon strike, for him to counter strike, and then do his sound effects and make all sorts of action happen. It's kind of funny to watch, and I can type and think and do photoshop and he's having a blast.
And he'll patiently wait when I forget it is my turn to yell crap like "Weedle! Use your horn attack!"
When I can't think of anything else to "attack" with, I say "I'm down and out and I'm up and splat," and he rejoices because he won the battle.
Down and out and up and splat is something he and Jessica invented. I have no idea how to really play it, but it is one of two games they play together lately. It usually involves Jessica pissing him off and yelling that, so he has to yell "Aw!!! Now I have to start over!" And he starts whatever he is doing over... and she yells it again, and he freaks... it is a riot until he starts hitting her.
The other one is "Winner, in your face!" which is kind of a race game. She yells "Whoever gets to the [whatever she is standing closest to] first is the winner!" she touches it while he runs over, and then she yells "Winner, in your face!"
He yells it too, she argues that he cheated and she really won, he fights with her. She does it again. It can go on for hours.
I'm usually the target of what to get to first. "Whoever gets to mom first is the winner" and she's standing next to me, so I have both kids tagging me and yelling "Winner, in your face!"
He rarely wins. But at least she'll play with him.
I told her she has to change it so it isn't something she's standing next to. Doug told me "That's no fun. Then she has to work to get there. Defeats the older sibling purpose." Seeing as we're both oldest siblings I see the truth in his statement and her philosophy. But sometimes I feel she should give him more of a chance, so sometimes I pick the goal. When we're out on a hike, "Whoever gets to THIS tree first is the winner!" And I have Geoff standing next to me. He likes to win.
We have to take the car into the shop today and get the oil changed and some work done to the front end. We were in Maine and had a total full load in the car, and I hit a pothole that I thought broke our front axle. I didn't see it in the dark. Now the car shakes and pulls to the right. So that needs adjusted. I hate the idea of taking Geoff to the dealership, but they could get me in today, and I totally need to get it done.
We grilled out last night on the Weber. I love grilling, as I've praised the activity before in the past here. It smells good and takes a minute. I marinated some chicken in an Emeril garlic lemon pepper marinade, and it rocked steady. I felt like a pro. It was a good meal. There are left overs.
I really prefer the charcoal grill to a propane grill. For some reason I feel like a propane grill is going to explode in fiery death if I use it, plus I just like the taste of charcoal grilled meat. Hank Hill would hate me. I've heard all his arguments on the propane vs. coal debate and I still am not swayed.
Last night a friend of mine from the old neighborhood called me. She has been reading the journal for a while and wanted to call me and express her sympathy.
What a nice surprise... what a gift it is to get an out of the blue call from someone. It was great to talk to her, almost two hours catching up on the phone... sometimes that's just one of the best things to do. I totally used to worship and admire her when we were kids, and in high school we kind of grew apart but were still friends. She was so cool when we were growing up. I could write a whole bunch of crap about what we used to do growing up but she'll get all embarrassed, and I want to keep her as my buddy. So I'll refrain.
I will say that she was a wicked good Charlie's Angels player.
We would run around with this other girl Barbara and I'd be Kate Jackson (she was the smart one, so I wanted to be like her...) and pretend to shoot guns at people and save the day. It was a riot. I have this distinct recollection of us running along the top of a humongous snowbank after a blizzard, and Barbara had on a brown corduroy coat. And a long scarf. Nothing greater than the fantasy minds of a chubby blonde girl, a Costa Rican beauty and an Orthodox Jewish girl pretending they are Hollywood's finest.
Funny how you can see things clearly, but totally forget everything else about things, like what year it was... what else was going on in life... I think it must have been 1978 or 79.
Anyway, it was great to catch up with the her. She is one of those people I look back on with such great fondness and adoration. So thanks J... you rule.
We're still thinking of getting another dog, in case I haven't yet mentioned that. Kinger has become a neurotic mess when we leave him. I went outside with Geoff to get in the car yesterday to go pick up Jessie for a dentist appointment in the middle of the day and opted not to take him. He SCREAMED in the house as we walked away. You'd swear someone was beating his wife in the neighborhood based on the noise this dumb dog makes.
I think it would do him good to have someone else here when he has to be left. Oy. I'd get another rottie in a minute. Gotta get that Rottweiler Carpeting thing going again. But perhaps just a mutt puppy. We shall see.
Alright. Gotta get ready for our errands. Geoff will be happy to do errands. Wanna know what we have to do in addition to the car repair? I need half and half. I forgot to get garlic cloves for the roast I'm making... so It's Market Time! And I have to pick up the roll of film we dropped off the other day. Lots ta dooo lots TA dooooo. Crap it's really 12:30. Oh man. Gotta get going!
Kowloon (bwong!) is a mishmash of Thai, Polynesian, Chinese and Pirates inside as theme. The lure of the South Pacific, the palm trees, the buddhas the very strange statuary and tiki god stylings. Aaaah, Kowloon (bwong!). Right up our alley. For as long as he's been here, Doug has never eaten there (I'd been 3 times in college... once on a date, and twice with my dorm floor as a group activity). 