Monday, December 17, 2018

Weekends Aren't Long Enough

So, Firstborn had a school trip to Six Flags this weekend. Beautiful Wife went along as a volunteer/chaperone. Last year, I purchased tickets separately for myself and Secondborn, but Secondborn is still recovering from a tummy bug that tore through us last week and decided to stay home. I'm still not sure whether or not I'm disappointed about that, but I think it was a wise decision.

I think we've shaken off the tummy bug, but the entire family's still at least partly sick, in a probably-allergies, can't-breathe-through-our-noses sort of way. And getting everybody out of bed, fed, and out the door this morning seems to have used up most of my energy. Still, there's a solid day of work that needs to be done, and I'd better get started.

Weekends, as Secondborn has repeatedly insisted, are not long enough.

Friday, December 14, 2018

Music: Long Way Down

Robert DeLong:

Today's Advice: Don't get sick

Especially, don't get any sort of tummy bug. And if you do, make sure you don't pass it to your younger child. And if you do, make sure you and your beautiful wife don't have a bunch of meetings scheduled that you can't easily cancel.

I will note that this year has been a lot easier on us than any number of previous years in terms of people being horrifyingly sick, though.

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Horoscope: Holiday Edition

This holiday season, give your guests what they really want: the flesh of their enemies, lightly seared in a nice soy-based sauce, with mixed vegetables and a spicy aioli dipping sauce.

The kids are about to be off from school. Take your heart and hide it, but be careful. Don't just put it in a jar or an animal. Hide it in layers. It needs to be hidden in a thing inside a thing inside another thing, or they'll find it. I'd specify, but -- they can read, too, you know?

So many relatives. So many humans making a claim on your bloodline. All because your daughter fell in love centuries ago, and bore a child. This isn't going anywhere useful, and if you let them persist then in a few years they're going to band together and take your magic for their own.

It's time.

Family activities are all well and good, but the dance won't come together if you don't feed them the elixir first. Mix it into the queso, the dressing for the salad, and the barbecue sauce. That should get everybody, but just to be sure make sure you dose the chocolate sauce as well.

This is a bad year for family gatherings, or for trying to heal that breach with the estranged branch of your family. Don't send any invitations, and leave town now. Otherwise you won't live past St. Stephen's Day.

The thing in the basement is hungry. It wants to share the season with you. It wants presents. Your entire extended family is coming over, and you know what their politics are like. Won't you make it happy this year?

This is the season for mending bridges and bringing people together. All together, their bodies writhing and twisting into a single colossal abomination ready to spread its tainted madness throughout the world, until it has absorbed every last individual being into one great collective mass. Get started.

Your plans at last come to fruition. Your holiday outlook is a formerly grand estate populated by nothing but the moldering corpses of those who thought they were untouchable.

It's your immediate family, and blood is thicker than water. Rip them apart, sparing only the ones who leap to help you with claws bared. Carnage is the only way to claim command of the pride and so show your worth. The throne awaits.

Those experiments you've been doing are illegal and immoral, but at least they're not *boring*. If your family stumbles on them during the holidays, make them part of your study. You'll thank yourself later.

Forget the visitors. Forget the guests. Focus only on the strange song that calls to you from the dark places between the stars. Let those strange verses fill your mind and guide your eyes... and your hands. Burn it all down afterwards to cover your tracks, as you seek the next revelation.

This year, why not consider an island getaway? Bring your friends and family down to the shore. Let them treat with us, and trade their seed for our strange treasures. Let the bloodlines mingle, and the town become isolated and strange. It's easiest this way.

Monday, December 10, 2018

Status Update plus Music: She Cries Your Name

It's been a busy weekend and I'm weirdly off-schedule and strung out, but that's kind of par for this time of year. The boys are about to be finished with school, Beautiful Wife is eyeballs-deep in finishing her grading for the semester, and I'm wishing I'd put in for some time off. (I am putting in for some time off in January when the boys go back to school, though.)

We went to go see the trains down at Northpark Mall on Saturday, and that was fun -- at least, the trains themselves were fun. I love all the little details in the landscapes, all the funny little Easter eggs that get put in the models. (I'd have some pictures to share, but I gave Secondborn my phone to play with on the ride down, and he left it in the car, so... no pictures.) Traffic was insane, parking was even crazier, and we timed it poorly enough that we wound up missing Firstborn's music lesson. Oh, and Beautiful Wife decided to come with us, which to my mind kind of defeated the purpose of the exercise (which was to give her some time with the house all to herself, because grading). Still, I think we handled it pretty well, it was just a lot more stressful than it should have been.

I still recommend seeing the trains if you're in the area, just not on a Saturday afternoon.

I'm so not ready to start this week, but here we are so here we go. I hope the rest of you feel more combobulated than I do.

Now, here's Beth Orton with a rather haunting little number:

Thursday, December 6, 2018

The sum of my life's wisdom

The sum of my life's wisdom, compiled:
  1. "I hope to God I'm making the right decision under the circumstances, but who the hell really knows?" is a succinct summary of the entire experience of being an adult.
  2. A big part of being a parent is never having time to just go hide in a hole and freak out.
  3. Parenting always comes back to the poop. It never really *stops* being about the poop, especially with pets. There is no escaping the poop.
  4. Frying pans without fires are few and far between. (I might have stolen that last one.)
This... this is the legacy and the lore that I will share with my children, and my children's children.