Famous among dozens
You arrive at the Las Vegas airport with a group of exhausted, hung-over bachelorettes. You sleepwalk through check in, and slouch together at the gate in indoor sunglasses and smoke-stale tank tops. There is a collective sigh.
“Fuck. I have so much blogging to catch up on.”
Little burbling baby? The only people in Amsterdam who are awake and happy at 3:30 a.m. are high or cavorting with prostitutes. Go to bed, kid.
We head back to Amsterdam Tuesday. On our last visit I was oblivious to my new state of pregnancy, which made me very moody (you may recall the Midget Busker Incident). I’m hoping the entire city won’t seem so vaguely uncomfortable this time around. Of course, this time we’ll have a baby with us, so perhaps that’s wishful thinking. Speaking of which, comments on taking international flights with infants and “Amsterdam with a baby” ideas would be much appreciated.
Me: I love her coat. Love it.
Bryan: Wow, you really love that coat.
Me: (Various kissing sounds.)
Bryan: If you love it so much, why don’t you marry it?
Me: Maybe I will. Maybe I will take her coat as my lawful wedded spouse.
Bryan: Why don’t you go hump it?
Me: She would object.
Bryan: You’re making an assumption there.
Me: True. This is San Francisco, probably coat humping is a thing. Probably there’s a coat-humping community.
Bryan: They have coat-humping parties.
Me: We’re out of the loop.
Me: Oh man, have you seen that You Tube video with the little kid who’s freaking out because he thinks his baby sister is hurt?
Ev: No.
Me: It’s so hilarious and sweet. You have to see it.
Ev: (walks over to desktop)
Me: OK, how will we find it? Search for like, “baby” and “blood.”
Ev: (furrows brow, fingers poised over keyboard)
Me: My bad. Better add in “not funny.”
It’s been a particularly hard day, and I’m swigging a large bottle of mineral water.
Me: I wish this were tequila.
Bryan: Mmmhmm.
Me: I also wish I were 23 years old. Just waking up from having slept in. Until 3 p.m. On spring break. In Cabo.
Bryan: I can make one of those things happen.
Me: Sounds good. I never understood spring break anyway. It was like, why would I spend a week throwing up and pushing away the wasted, persistent guy who wants to put his diseased penis to use?
Bryan: …
Me: I was a blast in college.
We had Mother’s Day brunch at Barndiva in Healdsburg where I spotted these fantastic Campari-bottle light fixtures. A friend of mine used empty Campari bottles as bud vases for big white lilies at her wedding, and I’ve seen them used to hold swizzle sticks or long fireplace matches. This light fixture takes the prize. I love beautifully designed objects with a sense of humor.
A lifetime ago, we attended the Air Guitar Championships. There was exactly one girl who was a contender. She had it all: the snarl, the reckless abandon, a mean air technique. She was going into the final round, rocking it out, and bringing the house down. At the end of her performance, the crowd was going wild, she was strutting around the stage, grinning from ear to ear. And then, as if in slow motion, she raised both hands above her head and sort of twinkled her fingers. The crowd gasped and drew back. “Cheerleader,” one of them said. And just like that, everyone went silent and headed for the bar.
San Francisco was always picked last for kickball.
If you were me, you would like:
-Dogs that insist on having the leash in their mouths so they can play tug of war while they walk
-6 a.m. coffee shop regulars
-Men with big noses.
1. “The ancient Celts spoke of ‘thin places’ and ‘thin times’–when the veil between heaven and Earth is worn thin, where the temporal and transcendent seem to touch.” –Krista Tippet, O Magazine
2. They captured a dog-sized cane toad in Australia.
3. Have I been laughing with dead people?
Mighty Girl 