So ...

... Fido is growing, it seems. This is of course a good thing. But progress is luckily S-L-O-W. Unlike some other ladies in our neighbourhood my girlfriend and the therein contained tiny human have decided to not explode outward at an exponential rate from week 1 on out but rather taking it slow. Like smooth, cool jazz. A comparisson which will drive my girlfriend bonkers, I suspect. Or not, as the case may be. However, slowly, but surely, it seems that there is a bulge forming. It's hard to tell but you know ... it's there.

The kid is growing.

Suddenly I realize that at a certain point in time I may be called upon to explain things. To the kid, as it were. Now, I'm not much of a teacher so, you know, that's a worry (I have one class, consisting of one student). However, how do you explain things which are just unexplainable?
Things like whale hunting, boredom, (fuck, this morning in the train I had way better examples, typical, sleepy-eyed my mind works better or something), war (oh, the cliché), meetings about nothing ... what does one say?

The sex talk, we've figured out, though: when a mommy and a daddy love eachother very much, God decides to send a stork to fetch a kid from a cabbage patch and deliver the kid to the mommy and daddy. That's the story and I'm sticking to it until he/she is 18.

Well ... 16.

Update ...

... about sundry things including Fido.

So. The kid is doing fine. That's basically it, really. The tests performed around this mark all came back excellent, as we anticipated, so, you know, GREAT!!

Imagine getting less than stelar results. You have to feel for those people ...

My house is still a sty. Luckily there are things being done during my abcense which help to create ordo ab chao, or something. The walls are done. The floor is being done. The heaters are being re-installed. All good.

Now, however, there are plans floating about to return to the upper floors and remod them. You know, so the kid might actually have a room to sleep in that doesn't look like total and utter shyte. Which, you know, means that we'll spend a few good months in an improvised living situation. Improvised living. It's like camping. Only with the added insult of it being in your own house.

Oh, and: sorry neighbours for the early, EARLY morning vacuuming. It sucked. Sorry. No pun intended.

And I'm reading the Twilight series. Hope to talk about it as soon as my girlfriend has read them as well. I bought them for her, actually, for Valentine's. Aren't I the bestest? In the mean time, enjoy some Twilight inspired tattoos:

http://www.geekologie.com/2009/07/sure_why_not_twihard_tattoo_ga.php

Yesterday ...

... we informed Chcko of Suus' pregnancy. He did not believe us which was sort of a weird moment. Even with pictoral evidence before him. Tenacious boy. We finally managed to convince him, though ... a mini-gi might be in the future of the kid, somewhere. Unavoidable, really. Quite welcome, though.

Afterwards we went to the messiah and everything looks and sounds and feels normal, apparently. Not that we have any basis of comparison but whatevs. Suus tricked the good man into taking yet another echo of the kid. He didn't plan on that but she can be quite persuasive ...

Now if only I could egt the walls done I might feel a bit lighter ...

Yesterday ...

... it snowed. And it was cold.

This should not come as a surprise, considering the winter we're having, but still. Now, the day before that I was lying in a bath, soaking, watching Dexter. And in Dexter somebody was playing 'kind Of Blue' by Miles Davis. At least I think it was and it inspired me to play that album on the iPod the next day, i.e. the snow day, on the platform at the trainstation. And it was perfect. Absolutely the right choice for that time (too late for my job) and those circumstances (snow and cold but spring around the corner).

And all of this got me thinking. I think I try to hard to get into some music. You know, really try to force a liking for, in this instance, Jazz, because it's so nice and it looks good and it's nicely pretentious, when actually I should just relax and wait until it's just the right time to listen to an album. Get the timing right and the pay-off (if you can call it that) is so much bigger and better. Also, I shouldn't feel guilty for not listening to all the stuff on the iPod. I'm sure that when the timing is right the album will still be there.

So, that was what I was thinking, when it was cold and snowy and I was on a platform of a trainstation.

LeSigh ...

... my house is once again a shit sty.

Basically what happened is this: we, my girl and I, looked at eachother and said to eachother, quite swoony and romantically,'We're going to have a kid' and after some more swooning we said 'we're going to have a kid' and after that we said 'We'll never, ever, ever have fucking time to repaint the fucking walls ever again, will we? Oh, and the fucking floor is butt ugly as well!!!'

So, basically, the lower floor of our house is stripped and gutted, again, so soon after our kitchen installment.

Pretty soon, everything will be white. And white. And white.

Which I just realised is an interesting choice when housed with a permanent kid (M/F).

Hmmm ...