Monday, September 8, 2008

i know it's not nanowrimo...

...but here're my 1500 words anyway. Sorry about this.

So, yes, about this weekend.

I felt unwell on Friday and came home and took a three-hour nap. I know, that’s not really a nap, especially when there are nights (like last night) when three hours is about all of the sleep I get. I then stayed up late, because of this nap and got very little sleep before it was time to get up and head out for the hot air balloon races. We were a bit late…I kept trying to tell Cardo that we had left earlier last year, but oh well. On Friday, we went to Costco to buy some fruit and bread for the next morning’s breakfast. We got strawberries and these coffeecake things. On the way to the park, we stopped by 7-11 to get hot chocolate and coffee. I don’t know how I manage this, but I always forget that hot chocolate usually sounds better than it tastes. This hot chocolate did not restore my faith in the beverage.

We took my car specifically so that we would have the stroller and could pile all of our stuff in it (Pic probably would nothave wanted to sit in it). When we arrived, though, Cardo opened the trunk and…no stroller. It was back home, snug in the “secret” closet under the stairs (shorlty after we moved in, a kid came over one day to reveal to me the secret closet we had under our stairs; he was very taken with it). Ah, well. We lugged all of our stuff: insulated food bag and two sleeping bags up the hill. We mostly took turns holding Pic because we were so late for the opening events.

We ended up missing the Glow Show (ah…) but we did see the Dawn Patrol. The sun rose and the sky lightened quickly. The bald eagle balloon (or the hawk as one woman described him…I think of him as male) floated up into the sky, displaying the flag. Someone (Miss Nevada, maybe) sang the national anthem. I thought she sang it very well. (Someone explain why it’s such a hard song to sing. I feel somehow unpatriotic when I sing it on my own, like I’m killing a little bit of the US every time I do.)

We saw the Wells Fargo bees, Lilly and Joe and some balloons we didn’t see last year. There weren’t any strawberry balloons which made me a bit sad. We were, however, introduced to the Curves balloon. There was much announcer-talk of the Curves balloon. Finally, when most of the other balloons had raced off to drop their bean bags on some X or something, the “kiddie” balloon was inflated – it was a clownfish. Pic was very excited about “Nemo!” as she called it. (I’m sure there were plenty of other kids there also attributing this name to this fish. I’ve still never seen the movie, but Pic has seen it during movie day at school.) Pic and Cardo trekked over so Pic could get a picture next to Nemo. I feel a bit sad that I can’t offer more to her than a picture next to the balloon, but I get sad for weird reasons.

At four o’clock Saturday morning, I found my phone and realized that I had a message from Ms A – a return call from my Friday evening call. She had told me when she and Mr J were planning on heading out from their place for their Saturday climb. I waited until eight-thirty to call her back, telling her we wouldn’t be able to make the climb due to balloon race stuff. When I told Cardo, however, where Ms A and Mr J were going to climb, he insisted that we go out and find them after the races.

We drove out to Carson and ate at Heidi’s. Well, we tried. I’m sure they’ll never invite us there again. Pic had fallen asleep in the car and was feeling very sensitive or cranky-as-all-get-out when she woke up. She wanted saltines, but she had to wait. She cried for a good long time. She was sitting next to Cardo, who was becoming increasingly close to losing it. I kept telling him to give her to me so that I could take her outside, but he kept refusing because, he said, that would just make her cry harder. I really didn’t care at that point. I’m sure that several people at the surrounding tables were plotting our demise by flatware. Finally, I took Pic outside where she screeched like a banshee. “Yes, people, I’m torturing the child here on the side of the road,” I felt like saying to all of the passers-by. She finally calmed down and we went back inside. The server had asked us at one point if we wanted some ice cream for her, to calm her down (see…we should have taken her out earlier), and it was all I could do to simply say, “No, thank you.” Really? Give this hysterical mess some ice cream? Maybe she thought something else was going on, but I don’t think that my tantrum-throwing child deserved ice cream. However, now that I think about it, she was probably just trying to shut Pic up so her other patrons could eat comfortably. We left a more than 20% tip for the server. It’ll be a long time before we go back, if we ever do.

We drove out and spotted A and J’s truck pulled over to the side of the road. We parked behind them and crossed the rock face where A was leading a climb (or something…I can’t remember now). Pic absolutely loved being out, climbing on the rocks. (we don’t yet have a harness for her. We looked at REI on Friday night, but they didn’t have one quite small enough for her. The smallest they had was for a child 35-100 pounds…I have no idea why there’s such a discrepancy in weight there.) I don’t think she was too much or getting in the way. She kept telling us, “We need to get me a harness.” We will, baby.

Pic got to go with Ms A and pee out in the open for the first time. Ms A showed her how not to pee all over her legs (I think) and how to pseudo-air-dry. This must have been almost as fun as earlier when I had taken Pic to the port-a-potty and held her many inches over the seat that someone had pooped on.

Ms A and Mr J did some climbs. Mr J lead his 151st climb, I believe it was (I might need to be set straight on that). Cardo did a couple of climbs. I was hesitant to go, but I finally did (after I snipped my Freddy Kruger claws). The last climb we did, the only one I did, was a chimney. I seriously felt like the Grinch. Not so much like Santa Claus, who doesn’t get stuck, mind you. When I got into the chimney, my body’s first reaction was, “Yeah, right.” My instinct was, “This is so unnatural. There is no way I can even do this. I’ll just stand here for a minute and go back down.” However, I did end up doing the climb, with a lot of encouragement from the company down below. I haven’t been climbing very often, but every time I feel this weird fear or apprehension or anxiety or something. I think, “I can’t do this. I’m going to freeze up here and start bawling and someone is going to have to come up and physically carry (or drag) me down.” I hate this doubt. I hate even more that I constantly voice this doubt. I try not to, but then I hear myself saying to my belayer (Cardo, this time), don’t drop me. Like that’s what he was planning.

Ah, well. It ended up being fun and I’m glad we climbed. I can’t wait to get Pic some equipment and take her.

The rest of Saturday was used for long baths (and breaking the one drain plug we have…oops) and rest. I didn’t get anything school-related accomplished and had to play catch-up yesterday. I hate this catch-up thing. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have two free days. If only sleep and I had a normal, healthy relationship.

Yesterday, I read and read some more. I planned for classes. I took Pic to the library so I could work on this while she played. She’s really pretty good at entertaining herself, although she still wants me to watch her puppet shows or watch her put together puzzles. I love to spend time with her. Sometimes, I just want to take a big long break (for at least a couple of years) and just soak her up.

I was up until the wee hours of the morning, getting everything ready for today. Now, I have four more hours until I can go home, eat some Trader Joe’s chicken dinner thing (either chicken piccata or chicken marsala tonight) with some blender cauliflower (maybe with carrots blended in), and get some freaking rest.

1 comments:

gunma-gal said...

Your climbing sounds fun. I'm glad you're doing it. I honestly believe that everyone needs something outside of academia to escape to. And yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. I keep dodging the grammar police, but just barely.