You might be a parent if, when dripping with chunky vomit that is not your own, it isn’t even your primary concern.

Or, I suppose, you might just be really drunk.

Yep, we got a visit from the Vomit Fairy again. I really hate that guy. Rebekah’s been going all Linda Blair everywhere. I must say that I’m really impressed with the spread she manages to get out of what must logically—if not by appearance—be only a couple of ounces. Poor little thing just looks so stunned when it happens.

Cough. Urp. BLEAAARRRRRGGHHH!!!SplOOOOshh…

That’s been my last 24 hours or so. But it does remind me of a funny travel story. And by funny, I mean horrible and nerve-wracking, but, hey, it happened a couple months ago so I can laugh about it now.

Or at least ride it for a journal entry.

So, back in November, we’re headed to Virginia for a week. Getting the kids into the car takes longer than expected (doesn’t it always? See, we even EXPECT that and STILL it takes longer) and we leave the house at 4:08 instead of 4. Relax, my wife tells me. We could have left at 4:30 and still been on time. My wife, knowing me, has lovingly lied to me about what time we needed to leave. I might have to admit that it is effective, even if duplicitous. Anyway, we’re making our way to the airport as rush hour is getting underway. Rebekah, having just woken up from a nap and it being close to dinner AND having not eaten much for lunch, is hungry. I’d grabbed the bananas on the way out the door because, face it, those suckers weren’t going to last the week. So, she eats one happily in the car seat and Reed has one. A little later, Amy starts in on one and Rebekah starts raising cane from the backseat. She saw Mommy having something and—hey—she didn’t have one! So, presuming she’s still hungry, we give her another banana. And she downs it. Like, we had to make sure she didn’t eat the peel.

We’re on the interstate exchange about ten minutes from the airport when I realize: Oh Shit. Yeah. That’s right. I capitalized it. It was that kind of Shit. We’d forgotten the car seat for the airplane.

Now, for those of you uninitiated in child air travel, ‘car’ seats are actually designed for land yachts. SUVs, minivans and such. Frankly, they’re motherfuckin’ big-ass things. I had to search to find one that would fit behind the driver’s seat rear-facing in our car, a family-sized sedan. Needless to say, these things simply will not fit in an airline seat. So, we’ve got this spare travel seat that is really minimal and fits in the airplane seats. We’d done 30+ flights with this thing without a problem.

Only, now, our problem was that it was still at home.

Shit. (See, still capitalized.)

So, I take the interstate exchange in the other direction back to our house. I am hauling. We do some mental calculations and can just make it back in time to get checked-in at the airport. I take the back, curvy way to our house, skid into the driveway, snag the seat, repack the trunk (shoving a bag on my wife’s lap so everything would fit), hop back in and peel out for the airport.

We’re slinging through the turns (here, my wife refers to me as ‘Mario Andretti’) when a curious sound comes from the seat behind me. I glance up into the baby mirror to catch the first discharge of digesting bananas roll out of her mouth, down her front and into the seat cracks like so much fruit-n-bile lava. Seriously, she only ate two bananas, but it was more like ten that came out. In hindsight, that exchange rate is really good and I might consider feeding her hundred dollar bills next time.

At this point, I pined for the knowledge and skill to pull one of those high-speed, 180 degree turns. We went straight back to the house and dived out of the car. I handed Rebekah to Amy, who sprinted inside, stripped her, hosed her down and re-dressed her. Meanwhile, I began feebly trying to FIND the car seat under that mountain of puked produce while simultaneously trying not to vomit myself. I gave it up as a bad job, yanked the entire car seat out, set it in the garage ("That'll be nice after a week!" I thought aloud), fished out the travel car seat and snapped it in just as Amy was coming out with the clean-if-still-a-bit-damp daughter.

All the while, I’m pretty sure we’re boned regarding our flight. Which is, pretty much, the only flight that will get us to Virginia in time for my Dad’s wedding. Didn’t I mention that part? Yeah. He kind of postponed it from it’s original date especially so we could be there.

As I navigate the traffic, Amy prepares me that we, in fact, might not make our flight. Fortunately, I’m outdriving the feeling of screwed-ness for the moment at least. We, being the engineering types, strategize our attack for arriving at the airport. There’s no way we can all go to long term parking, get out shit on the bus, then get to the terminal, check our bags and make the flight. We decided to go directly to the terminal, drop off everything and I’ll take all the bags and the two kids in, drop off the bags and make my way to the gate/plane while Amy parks the car and hopefully gets to the gate in time, unencumbered by any bags at all and aided by all kinds of uber-traveler first class status.

Though, in retrospect I’m thinking she was secretly hoping to get to fly solo.

Anyhoo, even though it’s about 40 minutes before departure, I’m able to check my bags curbside, whisk the kids through security (and, seriously, my 18-month-old is not a terrorist; why must I take off her shoes? All the dangerous stuff is in the diaper, anyway.), meet Amy and make it to the gate just as they begin boarding.

Oh. And Reed? He slept through the entire ordeal.
 

I have arrived back. Back to the west coast, back to home, back to work. Back to my scheduled life.

The holidays were, for the most part, grand. This year I asked for adult gifts mostly and I got adult gifts exclusively. New sheets, new towels, new dinnerware, new backpack. Also, a new haircut, one I only kind of asked for — when I told the woman that I wanted a trim "just above my eyebrows," it turned out that she didn't know what or where eyebrows are. My hair is very short now.

There was a span of days where I spent over 4 hours a day in an airplane/car — flying home on the 23rd, stuck in a car to Bristol, Va for 5 hours on the 24th, back to Richmond (4.5 hours this time — I was driving) on the 25th, a hellish 6.5 hours in the car to get up to Alexandria and back on the 26th.

And then there was the stress of navigating our way home on the 30th. Our itinerary was switched before we left in Richmond and we found ourselves almost stranded in Dallas. Of course, Eric and Lisa were going to take us in and we were going to spend NYE with them. But then we somehow got boarded on our plane. And, of course, Eric called, telling us not to bother boarding and just come spend NYE with them literally less than 4 minutes after we got onto the plane. It was not to be.

But I am home now, almost rested and feeling grand. It's a strange feeling and one I am not used to. I feel ready to take on the world. Unfortunately, this is not what I will be doing. But what I will be doing is continuing to produce media and put things out. My book of drawings should be out on the 14th. I'm getting back into the writing, the animation and video.

My goal for '07 was to get my environment, my life, my details organized — everything from money to doctors to boxes in my closet. It wasn't glamorous or fun really, but I got about 85% of it done. The rest will come with time. I'm unsure what this year's goal is. I hope it will include a non-stop stream of creative projects and works.

Regardless, I can't explain the large spring in my step. But I am going to make the most of it and make every day count. There are only 363.5 left. As John has become fond of saying:

Christmas is upon us. I'll be on the east coast soon, celebrating with family.

But this year things are hectic, family has become more critical than ever — the focus of the trip is not the presents or decorations or rituals. This year it is seeing and spending time with family.

It is easy to say that this is always the focus; the difference this year is that it is the only item on the table. My parents are stressed and busy; I'm unclear if there is even a tree. I suppose there might not be. And that's ok with me. But all of this coupled with the weird feeling that the holiday snuck up on me this year and I wonder if I've just grown up a bit more, if I am a bit more worn from my day-to-day schedule to be able to enjoy the countdown to presents and vacation.

I don't mind, but I'm not used to celebrating the season this way. I'm not clear on how to revel in it when I am so entrenched in work and life, when I can't seem to make time slow down the way I could ten or twenty years ago, when Christmas presents sat out for a week or more, when anticipation drove me insane, when I spent all my free time shaking and feeling and sorting every present, delighted at the puzzle.

This year will be something different for my entire family. I'm very much looking forward to it — ultimately, it will be the best of all worlds. But it's odd when the yearly routine disappears.

And because I can announce it, I have gotten my first present this year. From my manager, I am the proud owner of the 8bit tie now.

And that is not me modeling it. But you get the idea.

so i am sitting in starbucks, editing writing. roxy has joined me, she is sitting across the room doing her own thing. a woman walks in wearing a william and mary sweatshirt.

on the west coast, out here, this is a rarity. people generally claim to know of w&m out here, but you don't often see actual articles of clothing. when she walks back through, i speak to her; i tell her i went there. this leads to a solid 10 minute conversation — she graduated there in 97. i finished in 98. we never get to the level of 'did you know this person' but mainly because it is clear early on that 1. she didnt know many people there and 2. she knows none of the groups i ran around with while there (see: wcwm, the radio station and psi u, the frat).

still, its pretty cool.

though i did feel a little awkward, what with this attractive woman talking to me while my gf sat across the room studying. i kept saying 'we' when talking about moving here and such. though i still felt like i was supposed to be asking this girl out or something. (no, not really. but i dont talk to strange girls often, so i felt all unsure what that experience is supposed to be like. i did wonder if she thought i was going to ask her out. again though, once r came over to talk to me, i think it became obvious that there would be no phone number trading. or whatever it is that people do now. numbers? emails?)

wow. this might have been the most notable thing about my day. that's saying something. i'm not sure its a positive thing.

rachael and i are in the car, on the way to cape hatteras in north carolina. i'm excited, she seems to be. we will see how insane my family makes me over the week.

i wish i had pictures to throw up but i dont at the moment. but saturday was spent going through pictures and boxes with my parents, followed by dinner/birthday party at david's. his daughter julia had turned 5, so we showed up to hang out and eat cake and visit with him and his family. sunday, annalily came down from dc and we all went to the shooting range. fun to watch her and rachael shoot a handgun. and then we went over to matthew's house for dinner and to see his 6week old son, winston. his wife heather was there of course and nick (yes andrea, that nick) dropped by for hours and we all sat up and talked, catching up.

its been a wonderful couple of days; here is hoping a week at the beach will be just as fantastic. and ill try to get some of the pictures up in the next day or so.

i have written quite frequently over the last year or so about how the world is a very small place. i hope you like these stories; you're getting another one now.

on monday nights, we trek to ugly's for drinks with anyone and everyone who wants to come out. generally, this means i hop off public transportation, race home, stuff our faces with dinner and then race to the bar. to get there by about 7.30. some mondays it works better than others. usually we scarf dinner in front of jeopardy. (jeopardy, which, for some reason, comes on at 7pm on the west coast, followed by wheel of fortune at 7.30. on the east coast, these shows are swapped. ive never known why this is and have never investigated further.)

last night, we flip on jeopardy.

and wilson rickerson is staring right back at me.

wilson and i went to college together. we were in the same frat. now, granted, i haven't seen him in years, but we are still only a degree or two away form each other. (in fact, i got email today from cs box (whose site seems to be mia at the moment) about all of this as well.)

i freak out and call petunia. i know she is on the east coast; it's too late for her to catch it. i should have called chris davis and adam. sorry guys, i hope you can forgive me. she and i talk as i watch wilson play.

wilson gets the last clue, which also turns out to be a daily double. he bets it all.

the answer, in case you can't read it is:
'this heroine details her own consumption of 5,277 cigarettes, her gain of 74 pounds & her loss of 72 pounds'

the question is: 'who is bridget jones?'

wilson misses it. (look at his expression in the photo. it says it all.) with it, he misses out on final jeopardy, bowing out of the game with $0.

but i look at it like this:
1. wilson would fairly easily be in my 'top 5 people i know i would expect to see on jeopardy', even if i cannot fully explain the surprise and delight i got from turning on the tv and seeing someone i knew, especially for longer than 10 seconds.
2. if wilson was going to lose, this might have been the perfect question to go out on. it's a pop culture question, devoid of anything he should have learned in college. and, let's face it, it's a girl question.
3. as i said several times last night, if there had been a 'frat foolery' column in last night's game, wilson would have cleaned up. i feel like i must have photos or video of him acting nutty. perhaps with a mohawk. he cleans up nicely it seems.
4. seriously, it was insanely cool to find him on my tv randomly.

right now, last night especially, i love the world.

and wilson — i was rooting for you, buddy.

i know most of you are no longer in virginia, but:

the state will now fine you $1,050 for failing to use your turn signal

[via consumerist.com]