THIS CLUB HAS GOT TO BE THE MOST PRETENTIOUS THING
I'm
back, and I'm all confused. After being out of town for two weeks
I started to feel homeless and strange, like living out of a suitcase
was normal. Now I keep looking out the window at my car, going,
"When do we leave again?" The good news is I have become
a champion airplane flyer after not doing it for fourteen-ish years.
There's always some excitement right before a flight -- the check
luggage line is so long we almost miss the plane, the pilots are
AWOL, a crazy person in security is holding everybody up -- so that
there's no time to be anxious. And even though I know I can't use
it because it stays in breastmilk for six hours and the baby needs
to eat every four or the hail mary screaming starts, I keep my little
xanax close. Sometimes crutches are nice.
I'll
save the travel report for another day because this is the Year
In Cellphone Pictures entry. And man oh man are they boring this
year, but so are lots of other traditions we're obligated to sit
through. Speaking of traditions, traditionally I thought Portland
was supposed to be filled with midwesterny-types who'd be all friendly
and nice, but it was like we stepped out of Los Feliz in Los Angeles
where every person was 28, white, and too cool for school. Grose.
Now
I bring you 2007 in crappy quality cellphone pictures. PS. Fear
not, I got an iPhone for Christmas, so next year's selection will
be vastly improved. PPS. iPhone, you are so awesome I want to marry
you.
My
baby shower tea party. I didn't want a shower-shower, so people
took me out to tea.
Notice
the tea rack in front of the camera is empty. It's mine. All the
other ones had remainder food on them because nobody else is a pig.
I gained 34 pounds in pregnancy, and I have lost lots, but I still
have that pregnancy roll that everyone talks about. Curses. And
why am I talking about that when I could be talking about delicious
little tea cakes? This was in February, and we went back in September
for another girl's pregnant tea party when it was like a hundred
and ninety degrees and we all thought we were going to die and tea
cakes don't taste so good when you're melting.
A
few weeks before the baby was born Gray got a migraine and we had
to go to the ER. He gets the kind where slamming his head into a
wall would feel better than the pain inside, so a few times now
we've had to go to the hospital where they make him wait for four
hours and then give him a shot that takes 30 seconds and then he's
better. A-holes. So there were these ladies, pictured, who were
about 90, and twins, and all dolled up with makeup and sunglasses
at 10 at night. They were with a fancy-dressed black man, not pictured,
and wouldn't you love to know what their story is. I took this shot
in between Gray's moans of despair.
Taken
in February, pre-giving birth, going to the birth center for a check-up.
It's funny how life is broken into chunks. Mine are 1) everything
before and after my semester in London; 2) everything before and
after marriage; 3) everything before and after giving birth. That's
three acts, uh-oh. I hope I don't die soon.
Stealthpunch
Junior, two days after birth at the doctor's. Was he ever that tiny?
SP
Junior, getting circumsized. Normally they do it at the hospital,
but because I gave birth at a birth center I had to find my own
doctor to do it. I found a Jewish Moyle/MD, which is pretty awesome,
and I just got the bill the other day 10 months later for $700.
I'm glad his nice work has held up. Notice the vantage point of
the photo: Gray's with the baby, my mother is in front of me, and
I'm sitting down hyperventilating.
What
the? It just is.
This
was my cellphone screensaver for a long time. What a fat little
man. All his proportions are exaggerated.
July.
My friend's baby just born and alone under lamps in the hospital.
If you're gonna give birth, keep the kid with you. You're allowed
to, seriously. It's your baby, you can do whatever you want.
Third
from the bottom. Nice. Hey, Blue October and the Plain White T's
played there, too. That would have been cool. TFF is the only live
music I saw this year, I think. Unless you count Jersey Boys, which
I wouldn't suggest doing.
Outside
of Mendocino California in June. Horses in the street, dang.
Our
first dinner out without the baby. Yes, we went to Red Robin. Our
friends who babysat were like "You went to Red Robin, are you
crazy?" We happen to love Red Robin and the all-you-can-eat
french fries. We also told our waiter it was our first time without
the baby and to make our drinks strong, and he did one better and
made us drunk. It was a good time. I would pay $1000 for Red Robin
right now. FYI, breastfeeding makes me starving all the time.
Utopia.
A BevMo! ("Beverages and More") opened near us, and palletts
and palletts of booze were just sitting outside it while they were
organizing. It took every ounce of my willpower not to steal all
their Wild Turkey.
This
is a bar/restaurant in my local Vons shopping center. It's right
next to Bank of America, so sometimes when I'm withdrawing money
I can smell the cigarettes that aren't supposed to be smoked inside
the bar coming out the door. For awhile we were mystified because
we'd be out at night on a random Tuesday and the parking lot would
be jammed, and we'd be like, "That many people can't be craving
Ben and Jerry's from Vons at ten at night," and then I read
in the newspaper, when the newspaper did a week-long expose on the
San Fernando Valley's porn industry, that Sardo's is a a porno hangout.
All the porn stars go there and sing karaoke. Now after I go to
the B of A ATM I wash my hands very carefully.
I
don't know when this was taken, but it could have been May or June.
Or July. Or August, September, October or November. Ugh.
At
its worst.
Rose
Parade bleachers, taken in early December. We were in Cannon Beach,
Oregon for New Year's day last week, and we watched a few minutes
of the Rose Parade on TV and saw a marching band from El Salvador
going down Colorado Boulevard. The announcers were talking about
how those guys had had Visa troubles and had travelled 2500 miles
by bus to get there just so they could march because they were so
dedicated to their music, and I looked at Gray and said, "How
many of them do you think will show up for the bus ride home?"
It's like the Russains coming here for ballet in the eighties. Guaranteed
there was a field of scattered trumpets when the parade ended, and
the El Salvadoreans will never set foot on their home soil again.
Also, the
closest I got to a float this year was when we were behind one on
the road the other day and it kept dropping giant pieces of sod
and I kept running them over. It made me feel like I was participating.
Okay,
that's the end of 2007 in cellphone pics. Here's a better one:
