7.20.2003

It's still way too fucking hot. Here's an example of the synergystic relationship between the sweltering and my mood: Jo, Ep, and LH joked about going bowling. I have no humor when it comes to this subject:

Jo: I would bowl with y'all. One must choose
> > one's bowling partners
> > carefully, however. Otherwise the experience can
> be
> > a bit overwhelming in
> > its close and reminiscent relationship with the
> > nation's midsection.

Squid: > I hate bowling. Or any other sort of semi-organized,
> team-prone sports. Maybe if there was a lot of beer,
> though...

Ep: > Are there teams in bowling? D'oh!

Squid: Is there bowling without teams? Doesn't matter. I hate
bowling. I hate sports and games in general. And it's
so damn hot right now that I think I hate everything
else, too.

Ep: That's the spirit!

Really, though, it's usually perfect here. Two weeks of fucked up sweaty-assed grouchiness is tolerable. So say I when it's not those two weeks, anyhow.

----

Today we went to a great kiddie party up in the mountains, at the house of the most insanely creative artist/woodworker/designer we know. He can dream up anything, build it or repurpose it, and make you cry when you see the results. Makes me realize that my brain's creative center has either atrophied or died.

Anyhow. Isobel and Leelo were all about the paddling pool, so Iz immediately tore off her clothes--right there in the middle of the party--and demanded swim gear. Then, naked, she patted her bottom and announced to me in her usual top-volume manner:

"Mommy! My bottom feels good! Do you want to touch it?"

She does have the world's cutest bottom, it's true. And I do like to pinch it and give it pats. But. But!

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