weapons of massdistraction

It’s been a few years since I’ve been to Chicago. This summer seems like as good a time as any for a visit. Especially since Pitchfork just launched the site for their second music fest. Ted Leo, Mountain Goats, Mission of Burma and more. What’s not to like? Oh yeah, it’s a music fest. My first experience with one happened to be the very first Lollapalooza. I remember being annoyed by all of the drunken fools…especially the ones who were burning piles of cardboard pizza boxes for no apparent reason. It was a warm summer’s day, it’s not like they needed a heat source. And man, that was super smelly. And it had rained recently so the ground was all muddy. And I’m short so it was difficult to see anything…other than all of the drunken fools. Hmmm, maybe I’m talking myself out of this already.

In other memories from 1991…I’ve never been a sports fan, but I do recall the Twins winning the World Series that year. But the 1987 Twins win, now that I remember much more clearly, because my brother was still alive and he was such a very big Twins fan (his was more of a quiet intensity, rather than the spazzy yet infectious enthusiasm I’m known for). During one of the ‘87 games my dad, brother and I were upstairs at Sweeney’s Saloon, attending my step-sister’s wedding reception. Rather than interacting with the other guests we were hiding out in a corner, huddled around a very small television. I didn’t much care about the game. It was just good to be with those two. And I would gladly subject myself to any amount of sports viewing - if it meant the three of us could be together again.

Like Milk and Cake’s Thursday, my Friday was ridculously productive. Ran oodles of errands. Among them…picked up some disposable contact lenses from the eye doc (for swimming/working out), bought my MiL a birthday present, and finally had my danged lobes stretched. And in the afternoon I took the little man to his first swimming lesson. I think it went well. We both liked his instructor but I made sure to stay nearby, in the pool (but not hovering so near as to be a distraction). Hopefully his comfort level will increase as the lessons progress, and then I can go hang out in the hot tub during them. Aww yeah.

Lately I’ve had a terrible hankering for vegan spaghettios. Used to be such a product was readily available, in a can, at the co-op. But I haven’t seen ‘em in years. Instead I made do with some Imagine Foods tomato soup, Nate’s meatless balls and macaroni, with Soymage parmesan sprinkled on top. It hit the spot.

Something that isn’t quite so satisfying…the little man has become a homebody, just like the husband. Neither wants to leave the house today, but I don’t want to miss Vladmaster (being as I skipped last night’s performance in favor of an early bedtime). So it looks like I’ll be flying solo for family day at the Walker. How lame is that? Sigh.

When I picked the little man up from the bus stop yesterday we engaged in the usual “how was your day” discussion, which, with him, is like pulling teeth…of the non-loose variety. In general he quietly says “fine” and when pressed for details he responds with “I don’t know.” But sometimes he’ll offer up gems on his own, at random. For instance, we’d been driving in silence and had nearly reached our destination when he chimed in, telling me of a classmate who had been pretending he was a toy. And the other children had to try to find his off switch [moment of concern] which, thankfully, was located on his back. So I asked if we should pretend to be toys when we got home. This gave him pause. After a moment of silence he replied, in a very serious tone of voice, “no. Let’s just be real.” Good advice.

In the past couple of years I’ve heard the word “fluke” used far too many times because my life is, apparently, rather fluke-filled. This morning the husband and I went to the clinic for my post-partum checkup, and to consult with the doc about the long-anticipated autopsy report. Anatomically Felix was perfect. I could tell this when I held his lifeless body, but the autopsy confirmed it. His minor heart problem wasn’t even a problem. They’re not entirely sure what killed him, but think it was a placental abruption. It’s likely that the placenta peeled away from the uterus wall sometime between December 29th (my last prenatal exam, where everything seemed a-ok) and January 6th (the day I was admitted to the hospital, because Felix had stopped moving). The doctor said it was highly unlikely that we’d suffer a repeat of this nightmare if we were to try again. But our previous pregnancy loss in 2003, due to anencephaly, was also highly unusual. A fluke. I can just envision something else going horribly wrong. But we have some time to think about it. My body won’t be ready again for nearly 17 months. 18 months from the date of the c-section. If I were to get pregnant too soon my uterus could rupture. Big fun, that. But if we do try again, that would mean attempting to get pregnant in, oh, June of 2007. With the earliest possible due date some time in March of 2008. I’d be closing in on 35 then, and the little man would be nearly nine. Yowza.

In other heart-in-my-throat news…this morning I had to get up early (despite a late night out at the fantastic Andrew Bird show) to take the little man to his bus stop. Despite my lack of sleep I noticed that my eldest cat, Jasmine, wasn’t making her usual morning demands for food and/or attention. I was a little alarmed as our other cat, Selina, was inadvertently trapped overnight in a closet recently. But I thought to myself, self, it’s all right, I’ll just locate her when I get back. So I returned from my chauffeuring duties but still couldn’t find my aging feline. And suddenly it was time to rouse the husband and head out for the doc appointment. I decided to go out to the car to wait for said husband. While waiting in the car I saw a cat saunter up to our sidewalk. First thought, just a neighborhood stray. Second thought, oh my god, that’s MY cat. My elderly indoor cat. I hopped out of the car and opened the front door of the house, into which she bolted. I quickly checked her vitals and god-damned if she didn’t seem just fine, albeit a little cold. It must have been about ten degrees overnight, and the little miss was declawed years ago. Sadly I didn’t have time to cuddle and coddle her just then as we had to get to the appointment. Though we needn’t have hurried. The doc was a full hour-and-a-half behind schedule. It was just one of those days.

I’m hoping the remainder of the weekend will be better. But it’s overstimulation central with too many options to choose from. The Riverview is showing the 2006 Academy Award nominees for Best Short Documentary (though not the animated shorts, dammit). There’s another somewhat spontaneous flickr photowalk slated for tomorrow. The Mondo Jugglefest is going on this weekend. My friend’s band is playing tomorrow. Twice. And we have a family brunch thingie on Sunday. And I’m sure I’m forgetting something.
Bonus: Raumpatrouille translates as “Space Patrol” in English (via Afrojet).

Too many thoughts percolating to the top the last couple of days. I’ve been having trouble choosing one and running with it. Maybe I’ll find my focus later on.
Bonus: “It is a sea of excellently tousled hair.” La Coquette returns to France.