16 January 2004

The thing about Maren is, she's got the toys. And I don't mean grown-up versions. She's got an entire shelf of Lord of the Rings figures, including an ent on her desk. She has a stuffed spaceship that comes with a stuffed lunar module and two stuffed astronauts inside. And she has...

...a dragon, behind us, big enough for Arianna to ride on!

Arianna has some good toys, too, like her attack turtles. I was permitted to read a Peanuts board book to her four times. A good book is apparently always a good book. As someone who made her parents read Cowboy Andy until they resorted to deception to avoid it, I feel somehow honor-bound to do the repeated reads myself.

Maren and I -- maybe I've said this before -- had previously missed each other repeatedly despite the universe's desperate attempts to throw us together. Our moms were friends Back In The Day. We went to the same college. We had some of the same friends, many of the same acquaintances. We both write SF. You would think that somewhere along the line, this would have meant that we would spend time together, more than five minutes. Apparently not; not until Beth's party in December and then last night. So that was kind of funny -- the kind of stories that come up in normal conversation about parents made us kind of squint at each other every once in awhile, thinking, "Does Mom know that one?" or "Oh, it's that Scott" or the like. It was almost the opposite of hanging out with Stella, where I felt I'd known her for ages when we had never intersected before. Maren's life and my life had come so close, it was almost more confusing that way.

Anyway. I'm pouring liquids down my throat this morning, because I am so dehydrated. I don't know why. In the mornings, I always have a glass of milk first thing, with breakfast, and then an hour or so later I have a mug of white cranberry peach juice and a glass of water. This is the routine; this is how it goes. I like milk with my meals, much to the delight of every doctor I've ever had, since I'm in those lovely bone-building years still; I drink some form of cranberry juice as a talisman against bladder infections, since one was enough for me ever in my entire life; and it never hurts to grab a glass of water while I'm down in the kitchen in the first place. This morning, they have not been routine elements; they have been totally necessary for my continued movement through the mortal sphere. I don't know what my body is doing here. I had no alcohol and only a very little coffee (decaf) yesterday, and I drank plenty of water at Maren and Jeff's.

So I don't know what the deal is. Maybe it's worked in with the exhaustion somehow. I came home last night just beat, and we didn't get home all that late. I stayed up for the Daily Show just so that I wouldn't wake up at 4:00 a.m., but then I woke up in the middle of the night and thought, "Oh, crap, I'm still crazy-tired." Went back to sleep and woke up not crazy-tired. But not completely rested, either. Plans for the day include lunch with Rachel, work on the book and on around-the-house stuff, reading The Raven Ring some more, and hanging around here in the evening. Maybe going out for dinner, maybe avoiding Friday crowds and huddling home with something garlicky and something animated. We'll see.

Oh, and there's this:

That's the pitcher Sarah made for us. Also this:

The enormoose! (To make Marymary happy, since she wanted a picture of it. Cheesy teeth-baring look, I know. I was pretty tired by then.)

I hope they let us take pictures of the Ice Palace when we're inside. Yesterday one of the Strib guys was whining that they weren't letting people into the Ice Palace for free. It's leaving out the pooooooooor, he griped. Admission is $5. It's not like they're charging $50 a head to get into this thing. $5. So yes, a truly poor family is not going to be able to get in. (Schoolchildren, by the way, are being let in free in droves.) But I think that if you have a family who cannot scrape up $5 in entertainment funds, there are other things they need more than to see the Ice Palace. There are other things you could fund for free for them that would probably be more appreciated in the long-run. I'm not saying we should have no free public arts events -- if that's what people want to do, I think it can be very welcome. But if you can partially fund the Ice Palace and maybe get some money for future Ice Palaces by having the people who are using it pay for it, that seems quite reasonable to me, not at all a vast injustice.

So. Tiredy girl, going on with her day. With a fresh box of new books to distract and delight. Do you ever have those days when you want to read the entire world? Yeah. Well. I have to do other things, too, but still.