Monday, April 07, 2008
Miscellany: Braindribbles and the Tahoe Pix
As I’m awash in brilliance and genius the likes of which would leave you jabbering and blinded, I opt this evening to share a few pieces of nonsense and some photos that exceed standard cuteness quotients by a significant margin. Consider yourself warned.
I typically keep my RSS feed open, which is to say, if I’m parked (as usual) in front of the computer all day long, I have a screen open that tells me when my favorite blogs have updated. I even have myself on my bloglines roster so I can see if I, myself, have updated my own site during some sort of fugue state. I’ve noticed, when clicking between my feeds, that one of the databits that’s shared is the number of people who subscribe to any given blog’s feed. Some have dozens, some have hundreds, and my political blogs have subscribers into the thousands. I have: seven. And I’m really okay with that, because up till recently I had six. Yes, a newbie has signed up! Who it is, I cannot say, because most of my subscribers keep their data private. Of the seven, I am one and I know of one other. So if you’ve got me on bloglines, drop me a note and say hi, okay? Because otherwise I’m going to drive myself up a goddamn tree wondering who the hell you are.
While recently recycling a cubic jebus of cardboard and plastic from Z’s recent birthday party, I noticed that the box of Play-doh contained information that I think is worth sharing. Turns out, Play-doh is not “clay” - it’s a “modeling compound.” And here I was thinking that’s what they called the apartment where they film the “off-hours” segments of ANTM.
I am pleased to report that today we accepted delivery of an outsized box from Amazon, sequestered within which was an entire tramampoline. Was it fully assembled? Bwahahahaha I chortle my retort: it was not; rather, it was in a box the exact size of a not-tramampoline. We’d noticed, when ordering this boon to health and childcare, that several of the people who’d reviewed it complained bitterly about how hard it was to assemble. “Three able-bodied adults” was how the instructions read. Well, they were not counting on CHUCKLES. It took half an hour; I perspired through two shirts and most of a time zone; at one point I spoke in a sharp voice to my child, whose curiosity and excitement were entirely reasonable - but I put the damn thing together all by myself. And then I bounced on it a few times, and it works very well indeed. I am trampomaster. Hear me bounce! But not too loudly because there are no springs and we don’t want to wake the child. For god’s sake man, think of the children.
TAHOE PICTURES: because secretly you wish you were me
As you recall (just nod and act knowing) we went to Lake Tahoe recently. (Note: the Tahoe Tourism Council’s recent campaign, “GoTahoe.com,” just reads to me as “got-a-hoe.com.” Some people, eh?) ANYWAY, here’s some visual stimuli to remind you of how much fun I had:
We toasted marshmallows in the fireplace and then slapped some s’mores together. Did Zachary care for them? Exhibit A:
We were staying on the west shore of Lake Tahoe. Therefore, when I arose, inexplicably, at goddamn DAWN every day, instead of seeing the backyards to which I’ve grown accustomed, I saw this:
One good thing about this vacation was that we were protected by evildoers. Oh my mistake, from evildoers. To wit:
and let’s not forget the caped crusader, looking coy as a bat caught out of his cave:
Saturday Z went skiing - I stayed at home and read my goddamn time-travel novel, which I’m sorry but I’m not apologizing, it’s about time I read something just because it was fun - and this really was. However, later that day we stumbled out and found a sledding hill, with authentic abandoned sleds, for our low-friction amusement:
And here’s Z taking a solo run:
That is all. I’ll post something even more pointless next, so don’t come back too quickly!
