Oh my god, she is BEAUTIFUL!

Could it be that I am actually really finally realizing what kind of a miracle this little being really is?

Nah.

Actually, I'll probably never get more than a glimpse of it. My mind is just to small.

I am a bad, bad parent.

My wife went back home for a couple of days, to surprise her mother on her sixtieth birthday. So there have just been the two of us this weekend. And the poor little thing got sick. Fever, a little bit of vomiting, runny nose, etc.

I should feel bad about this. And I do, don't get me wrong. But this is an energetic kid. Who likes to climb and crawl and roll and dance and fling her toys around her. When she's not sleeping. But now, she's just so little. And just wants to be held. And have her cheek stroked gently. And then she utters the most pathetic little whimpers you can imagine. All of a sudden, I am needed. I mean truly needed.

I know. Bad, bad, bad.

I am always equally amazed by my own shallowness.

If cartoons can make me cry now, then this, which I stumbled onto earlier today and can't stop reading, will silence me. Take my breath away. Leave me cold. And empty. Closed up, boxed, and unplugged.

This war will kill us all. In part or in whole. And I am not able to save us.

I am beyond hope.

Just saw Jurassic Bark. And cried some more.



There is just something so completely overwhelming about faithfully spending your life – your precious time – waiting for someone else to come to you.

*Sniff*

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME??

I am addicted to the cancelled TV series Futurama. And since I don't own a TV, I've downloaded most of the episodes from the internet.

Anyways. I just found one I hadn't seen. It's called Leela's Homeworld. I won't bore you with the zany plot. But at the very end, where the mutant father tucks in his sleeping daughter, I started crying. Bawling is more like it, actually. And I cried and cried. And cried!



Is this my destiny? Am I eternally lost? Doomed to cry over chick flicks and sleezy romance stories??

CRUEL FATE, SAY IT ISN'T SO!

My wife shaved off all her hair.

Actually, I did. At her request. She just alway wanted to try it. So she did. A couple of weeks ago. And we did not think anything off it. Except that she looks cool. And sexy.

It wasn't until this morning that I realized the amount of shock this has had in the outer circle we move in. Not my friends, mind you. We seem to attract friends that go "cool doo" or "whatever". I don't think any of them where shocked. Or even perplexed. This is more like the people whose name you actually remember and you just meet every now and then. For example, we went contradancing the other night (yes, really, I kid you not). And we met our midwife. On the middle of the dancefloor. And when she saw the hair, or the lack of it, she just blurted out "Oh my god! Are you OK? Do you have cancer??"

I did not really give this another thought. There was some funky stuff going on at that dance, anyway. Until this morning. I went to the gym. With my daughter. And one of the women who usually takes care of her was obviously dying to ask me something. So, after a little dancing around the subject she said that they, i.e. the babysitting crew presumably, just wanted to know if my wife was all right. I did not get it right away, and just told her, matter-of-factly, that I was alone this morning because she had taken a trip back home to be with her mother on her big birthday. "No no," said the woman, "I mean, is she ill?" Then I got it, why she was asking, and after talking with her a little while, I finally really realized that people around here are generally really lost when confronted with something like this. Why would a woman do that, if she was not forced to? Never mind all the fat, clean-shaven male heads you see bobbing about all around here. No, she is a woman, for Pete's sake, and women just don't go around shaving their heads for no good reason!

I ask you, what could possibly constitute a more educating experience than living in a community that is fundamentally different from where you come from?

Did you ever take a bath with your clothes on?

I was brought up in a household where people just did not do that. I seem to remember someone telling me that was the kind of behavior that crazy people exhibit.

Yada-yada-yada. Or let me quote Mr. Flintstone: Yabba-dabba-do. No, actually, yada-yada-yada fit better.

I just came in from the rain. That warm, smooth, calm almost-summer rain. It is a privilege to live where the rain is warm enough to bathe in. Granted, it was a little brisk, it being morning and all, but it was great!

I can't wait until the river in the valley beneath my house is warm enough to swim in it.

Summer...