daytripping:  The little man spent the weekend with the grandparents, so that a certain someone and I could have some much needed alone time. Friday night itself was unusual. Being able to lounge languidly…the spontaneity of dinner and a movie. And then, even weirder, not having to worry about staying up too late…because we could sleep in, if we so desired. Whoa. Although that threw me off a bit. The game plan for Saturday morning was to get up and leave for Duluth as early as possible (marking my first road trip since 1998). But after staying up past my usual bedtime, I felt like I was moving underwater all morning. Thus we didn’t get on the road until noonish. Which was fine. The trip took under three hours. The main reason for heading up to Duluth was Low’s record release party/show, but playing tourist was a lovely fringe benefit. I hadn’t visited Duluth for at least six years, and someone else hadn’t been there in many more. The vastness of Lake Superior always surprises me. And gloomy as it was, with fog clinging to the hills below a gray sky, I still found it to be beautiful.
dining:  Upon arriving we needed food. I’d compiled a list of veg-friendly restaurants for us to choose from. We didn’t make it to Pizza Luce, but we frequent the Minneapolis locations enough. We were told they have the same menu anyhow. Perhaps another time. First we headed to India Palace, but were chagrined to find we’d missed lunchtime by about a half hour, and they wouldn’t reopen for dinner until 5:00pm. Doh. So instead we lunched on fairly tasty black-been hummus sandwiches at the Amazing Grace Bakery and Cafe. It’s located in the DeWitt-Seitz Marketplace, a nifty renovated warehouse in Canal Park.
dawdling:  Afterwards we embarked on a chilly stroll around the park area. We crossed the Lift Bridge and were promptly stranded…by the bridge being raised. Doh. At least we witnessed the spectacle of a huge ship passing through. We weren’t the only tourist gawkers there, either. The canal was lined with ‘em. And we were all taking snapshots. After the bridge was lowered we crossed and got back into the car to warm up, and to locate the venue for the evening’s show. It seems that in the main downtown area everything is contained within a few blocks (kind of like Reykjavik) so it wasn’t difficult. We wondered if tickets were being sold in advance, but nobody seemed to be around. Until we walked to the side of the building. We were treated to the sounds of Low warming up, playing one of my favorite songs, “Words”. We stopped long enough for me to take a few photos while listening, then were on our merry way again. We had a few hours to kill, and no clear idea of how to kill ‘em. So we drove. Past Fitgers and Pitwicks, through Leif Ericsson Park, down London Road a bit, near UMD and past the Congdon Mansion, I’m pretty sure. All places I’d visited years ago…but was in no rush to revisit. Instead we looped back to the downtown area. Spent an hour or so browsing and buying at a crazy old used book store. Can’t figure out the name of it, for the life of me, but a sign out front declared it “Duluth’s finest tourist attraction”. We meandered through the haphazardly piled stacks, coming across the damndest things.
dining (again):  Still sated from our earlier lunch, we nonetheless headed to dinner. It was cold enough to store leftovers in the car (one of the benefits of living in Minnesota). India Palace had indeed opened for the night. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the menus not only indicated vegetarian items, but vegan as well. The appetizers, breads, Aloo Gobi, and Chana Masala were all tasty (but nothing beats the Batura and Chole Peshwari at Udupi). I only sampled a bit, didn’t want to get all full and logey before the show. Had intended to stop into a coffee shop down the way, Jitters (not sure if it is related to the Minneapolis coffee shop of the same name), but, being Duluth, it was only open until 7pm, even though it was Saturday night. Instead I had a cuppa bad restaurant coffee to perk me up just enough, and we were on our way.
delightful:  We arrived earlyish to find the doors to Sacred Heart open. People were just beginning to file in so we were able to nab some decent seats. There’d been some confusion regarding what time the show was supposed to start. The web site said 8pm, but the band had thought it was 9pm. To compromise they announced they’d start playing at 8:30. By that time the place had filled to capacity anyhow. A little before they were to take to the stage we found the personable Alan manning the merch table. I approached to pick up the Canada CD single just as a friend of mine was making his purchases. We seemed to embarrass Alan a bit by commenting on how much we enjoyed his weblog. He remarked that “some people” think he may be giving too much away. By “some people” he was likely referring to Mimi. Heh. But I don’t think it’s too much. And that’s not just the fangirl in me piping up. I’ve always liked the behind the scenes snapshot into the creative process. It started with a Mr. Rogers episode when I was a kid, when they toured the Crayola factory and showed us how our beloved crayons came into being. And continues today with my regular reading of Neil Gaiman’s journal. Umm, anyhow…on with the show. The lights dimmed, the audience hushed, and Low did their thang. It was beautiful. The acoustics inside the former church were good. They mainly performed songs from their new album, but threw in a Pink Floyd cover, and a few of their own classics. Including an ode to their DJ friend turned rock-star nanny, Starfire. It was a lovely end to a lovely day.

In the middle of another 11+ workday I slunk away. Away from my desk. And away from the building even. The new Low album, Trust, is slated to come out today. I am going to the record release party in Duluth this weekend, but I had wanted to get it ahead of time. I thought listening to it while working might make the day pass more quickly. So I snuck down the Nicollet Mall to Let it Be records. Alas, my plan was thwarted. The CDs had not yet arrived. The UPS truck was late. The store expects them still some time this afternoon, but it is not likely that I’ll be able to make a break for it again. Until it is time for Buffy. Oh yes. Buffy. Season seven, baby. If I have my way I will have my butt firmly planted on a friend’s couch, so we can savor the premiere together. Unfortunately that plan may be thwarted as well. How often do I get my way anyhow? Just after posting about how little I saw of the little man yesterday, he woke up screaming. I rushed into his room to find that the poor monkey was burning up. He had a fever of around 102. Gave him some tylenol but the poor little guy was miserable. He also wanted his plush ducky, which I found. And he sweetly/sleepily thanked me for. But then he wanted me to sleep in his teeny toddler bed with him. I compromised and asked if he instead wanted to sleep with the ducky and me in my bed. In a sad little voice he said “okay” and we shuffled off to my room. Naturally he sprawled diagonally across my bed so as to take up the most space possible, as I clung to the edge. It was all right, I love cuddling with him. And around 4am I realized he must be feeling a bit better. He woke me up, all smiles, and asked for a high five. This went on for about 15 minutes, then he fell back to sleep. I snuck out around 6ish to take a bath and get ready. He was very confused when he woke up. He stumbled out of my room looking totally discombobulated. It was pretty cute. He still had a slight fever though, so I am a bit worried. No calls yet from pre-school, which is good, but if he’s not feeling well I want to be at home with him…Buffy be damned. Sigh.

Home now. From another fine 11+ hour work day. Returned just in time to put the little man’s jammies on (on him, not me). Cuddled with him for a few minutes before he was out cold, then tucked him in. Saw him awake for maybe 40-50 minutes today. And those were some of his crankier minutes. This is not how it should be. I should be spending my days at the little man’s beck and call, not “the man’s”. Something’s got to give. But I’m too exhausted to figure out the what and the how. Right now the price of motherhood is too great.

The past couple of weeks have been a blur. Too much activity combined with prolonged ooginess. When I try to boil it down this is what floats to the top:
august moon (attempted and thwarted). the birthday party. btvs premiere anticipation. cohabitation experimentation. contacting no-kill shelters (poor crazy kitties). introduction to flonase. hop-fu envy. kinhdo. located the wayward hulk. lunch-packing. meth lab (you had to be there). monkey suit. monsters, inc. nebulizer usage. new toys. old friends. overworking. playground time. potty-training pandemonium. pre-school. punch. queens of the stone age. schoolhouse rock. seward. sinus infection. spirited away. sweater weather. ultraman. urgent care clinic visits. wallace and gromit. woody and buzz, reunited (and it feels so good…or something).

So little time. Soon. Very soon.

Any excuse would be a good excuse to go to the Bay Area, in my book. From my constant craving of Ambrosia Gardens’ fine food, to checking out what’s new at Subterranean Shoes or flipping through the recent arrivals in the mammoth used section at Amoeba Records. But this, oh this is the best of all. The fabulously collaborative Mirror Project is approaching it’s 10,000th submission. To mark the event Ms. Champ is shooting a group photograph this weekend…and everyone is invited (I’ve had the Dismemberment Plan song in my head since I first read the post). Unfortunately it is this weekend, and I’ve got even more important celebrations to attend. The little man is turning three. Woo-hoo! I’ll report back on the Buzz Lightyear-themed festivities soon.

· here is new york
· september 11th didn’t change everything
· it was a matter of time and place
· the dead and the guilty
· one year on: a view from the middle east

Some punkass beeyatch in my office has been eating my peanut butter. I’d stash it in my desk, but I buy a brand that requires refrigeration. I had been keeping it in its native container, in the main fridge, along with the company-provided condiments. So folks may have thought it was communal or something. It was disappearing quickly, at any rate. So I got sneaky. Transferred it to a beatup old rubbermaid container…so it would be less appealing. I’ve already got one mouth to feed at home…I don’t need to be feeding my cow-workers as well. But they are still eating it. Not only is the supply severely depleted, today I noticed there is jelly mixed in it! Ew. They’ve stolen and contaminated my once-pristine peanut butter. I feel dirty. So this morning I wrote a nasty note on the outside of the container with permanent marker. I don’t know if it will stop anyone, but it made me feel a little better.

Still sick. Hopefully improving somewhat. But my senses are all dulled. And I’m so delirious I’m getting those mixed up. Earlier I was thinking of how stuffed up my ears are. And how they are making my music taste weird. Umm, yeah. I guess that works…food mostly sounds bad to me at the moment.

Totally miserable. It’s 3ish in the am and I am so very sick. Achey. Feverish. Can’t breathe through my nose. Took forever to fall asleep. Only to be awakened a few hours later by bizarro weather. Crazy thunderstorms. Lightning flashing like giant strobe lights were turned on outside my bedroom window. Booming thunder. Forecast warns of flash flooding in some areas, monster puddles in others. And the next four days are supposed to be hot and steamy. About 15 degrees warmer than normal, and humid. Woo-freaking-hoo. Not sure how or when I’ll be able to get back to sleep. And there’s no chance of calling in sick to work either. Too much to be done that only I can do, and I’m not set up to work from home. If the work doesn’t get done many people will be even more stressed out, including myself. Argh.