Monday morning, another blur of a workday… I like it busy, goes faster.
At nights I started this new thing: no laptop until Keaton goes to bed. You’d think this would be something I’d just do, being that I’m literally on the computer all day as my job – but it’s not. I frequently get home from work and pull my laptop, which I just put into my bag no more than ten minutes ago, out of my bag. Yes, you’d think I’d make it a point to give myself a “break.” No, I don’t. Because, you see, when I get home I have all these “home” things I want to do on the computer that, for the most part, I don’t do at work. No, no porn. Mostly I want to check a few message boards I lurk on, check what’s new in the world of music blogs, make the political and world news roundup, whatever. Like I said, I, for the most part, at least, don’t do that kinda stuff at work.
So anyway, I’ve been making it a point to leave the infernal thing in it’s el-cheapo laptop bag at least until Keaton goes down. This way, I find I’m more prone to actually enjoy those few hours I get with her each day. Usually, I see her for thirty minutes in the morning, an hour at lunch, and maybe three hours after work – and not that I need to “force” myself to pay her attention during those times, but I feel like I should do what I can to make them matter. So, no laptop until she’s down – that’s the rule.
I got my hair cut Sunday afternoon, mostly because I was long overdue but also partly because I’ll be “face-to-facing” with some customers this week and want to look somewhat presentable. As luck would have it, I ended up in the chair of the same ebullient Vietnamese immigrant whose fervent patriotism I’ve commented on before. I don’t mind the guy, actually kind of like him, and anyway he’s not why I’m writing this story. Sitting across from the infinite mes in the infinite chairs stretching deep into the infinite deep of the mirrored walls was a young girl. She was ten, in fact, I heard the Saigon Turtle ask her mom as he entered her information into the haircut-computer.
Being that she was getting her haircut on the opposite side of the room, our backs were to each other, but I could see her face by virtue of the mirrors. She was pretty, as far as ten year-old girls go I suppose, with long brown hair that the pierced-up stylist had twisted up in clips and was busy spraying down with water. Now listen perverts, I’m not saying this young girl was pretty because she was “pretty” like that, I’m saying it because, as a father of a daughter, I couldn’t help sneaking glances and thinking to myself, “Keaton is going to be that old one day.” The stylist asked the girl if she ever wore her her “this way,” and pulled a large swath of it back around her ear in the mirror. “Yeah, sometimes,” she replied. “Some day,” I thought, “Keaton will know how she ‘sometimes’ wears her hair back behind her ears.” “Some day,” I thought, “Keaton will have a little black purse with nothing important in it, just like that girl.” “Someday,” I thought, “Someday.”
Half of me can’t wait for the day when I can walk down to the park with her, maybe kick around a soccer ball or fly a kite or have a picnic. The other half of me stares into her little blue eyes before I put her down to bed and wishes silently that I’ll have just a little more time with her as she is.
Here’s a bunch of random stuff to round this thing out.
Another Arcade Fire track leaked today, still waiting for the whole thing… still waiting.
Upgraded to WordPress 2.1 today, things went smoothly and the backend improvements are nice. Just another step towards bringing you the best blog possible (step one would be to improve my writing, but I’ve somehow jumped ahead and began toiling on the minutiae instead).
Before I go, and I know this has been making the rounds lately, I just had to post the Andy Griffith vs. the Patriot Act video. Check it out below (I actually know this particular episode quite well) and see what one of my most treasured TV icons has to say about eavesdropping and the law. On a side note, who’d’ve thunk little ol’ Andy Griffith of Mayberry to be a terrorist sympathizer. He obviously hates our troops, and I find it disgusting. See for yourself:
Goodnight.
Also written on this day...
- bits - 2019
- thump-thump th-thump-thump - 2009
- the night is still mine - 2008
- t-minus one month and counting - 2006