Year of writing 329

12/27/12

Christmas has come and gone, and the one thing that Miles plays with most is a harmonica that I found in a box of my old stuff.  There is nothing cuter than a toddler walking around with a harmonica clenched between his teeth, lending music to his breath.  I approve.

Year of writing 328. A computer death.

12/22/12


Right after I made my pre-new years resolutions, my poor overworked macbook died.  I learned a lot about myself in that moment - not the least of which being my emotional attachment to a machine.  Mostly I just learned I don't take setbacks really well.  At any rate, blog posts will be sporadic until I get a new computer soon.  I have a lot to make up, and will do my best to document the holidays as I go.

Year of writing 326. Motivation.

12/11/12

It's getting close to the end of this year of writing, I intend to do 365, even though that wont end January 1, where this started, due to some recent fits and starts for the blog.  However, I would like to set out some things I'd like to be better at next year - I'll revisit this on the first to see if I still feel the same.


- I'd like to spend more time one on one with Isla, playing her games, and letting her be in charge for a while.  It's tough to be second to the baby for everything from where we go, to what I can do.  I can make time as he gets older to be just her daddy too.

- I'd like to get familiar with Ableton live and create music for our Wild Stallion sets.  That seems like the next logical step for us.  I'd also like to get some gigs in Santa Barbara where there's more people.

- I'd like to set up a poetry slam here in Ojai, just to make a team for me to go to Nationals again.

- I'd like to be more involved in Isla's school, to go help out, do whatever they need done.

- I'd like to really be proactive about my shoulder injury and get back to exercising more.

Year of writing 325. Great-Grandpa

12/10/12

I've been helping my Grandpa with his memoir over the past few years, and he's almost completely done.  He's an extremely motivated man, who very, very rarely fails to finish what he sets out to accomplish, so I'm not surprised.  Today I took video of him talking to one of his best friends about what friendship means over the course of 50 years or so.  Listening to these two men talk, share stories, and laugh was amazing.  They both have such a deep respect for one another that was apparent through every spoken sentence.  One interesting thing to me is that my Grandfather could speak for hours about the business venture he started at 7 years old, selling Muskrat skins to a shop that turned around and made them into the fur lining for bomber jacket collars, but he could scarcely recall one significant detail about his most recent business dealings.  I could attribute it to his Parkinson's disease, but I think it's not the right thing to do.  I think that more accurately, as we get older, and realize what is truly important to us, those events that imprinted on us these important things become clearer, while the end result, the "stuff" we end up with becomes less and less worth remembering.  My grandfather is a lover of lessons, both receiving and giving them, and I think these are what he holds dear to his heart.  These lessons of manhood, of life, of friendship, and of love.

Year of writing 324. The sickness.

12/10/12

I haven't written since Wednesday because at 3:30 AM Thursday morning, after a horrendous night of sleep, due to Isla's refusal to adapt to the norms of sleeping 4 year olds, I woke up (literally) in the act of sprinting to the bathroom with vomit nearly escaping my clenched lips.  It came out of nowhere, and everybody got it.  I know Isla came down with the stomach flupocalypse first, but I thought I was immune to that.  Nope.  So, for the last four or five days, either I, Tegan, Isla or Miles has been puke-tacular.  I'm just now getting my legs back. 

On top of all that, I had to do a show on Saturday, which was actually not that big of a deal, and a really good show, until the end when some dude started waving a knife around.  Oh, my life sometimes.

Year of writing 323.

12/5/12

Today I went to every place I used to work in Ojai, completely by accident.  It was scary.  I think I might have entered the twilight zone.  It started with the hardware store, that used to be Double J market, where I would "work" but mostly attempt to steal six packs of beer by putting them in the crates out back.  I chickened out almost every time.  Then, I went to Jolly Kone for lunch, where I once manned the fry station, and where the fry station once burned the crap out of my face.  The Jolly Kone is still the only job I've ever been fired from, they said I was giving away too much ice cream.  Finally, I ordered a pizza from Ojai Pizza, where I used to drive all around the valley, smelling like tomato sauce and garlic.  Needless to say I gave the driver a big tip.

year of writing 322. Soccer.

12/4/12

Tuesdays are Isla's soccer days, and due to the rad setup I have with my cousin, I have missed the last 6 weeks or so of her classes.  Today my cousin needed a break, so I took the girls to practice.  I think this might be one of those times when a person realizes that their child is growing up right before their eyes.  It's not very often when I can see a drastic increase in ability, since I see my kids all day every day, but today at soccer my baby girl was all growed up.  She used to stand and wait with the ball when the coach would play "come get me" games, but this time, she was dribbling with both feet and really launching the ball at the coach. 

This coach is awesome too - he is British with an accent and affect that screams "mediocre semi-pro player who blew out his knees early!"  But, he's awesome with the kids, pretending to be a pirate, race car, winnie the pooh, or whatever it takes to get 4 year olds motivated to kick a ball, which shouldn't be that hard, now that I think about it.  But it is.

Year of writing 321. Scott Free.

12/3/12

I have mentioned before how much I dislike going to "meet and greet" things anywhere, much less at Isla's school where for some reason my awkwardness always takes over completely, and the rich stay at home moms all treat me like a homeless rat.  It's not like I'm bitter or anything, though.  Anyway, I avoid these get togethers like the plague, unless it's something that Isla would miss out on because of my own issues.  Then, I man the eff up and handle biz.   

This brings us to today's "Caroling get-together"  apparently the kids all are supposed to go to school around 6 PM and get on a bus to go Christmas caroling at an old folks home and a couple other places.  Meanwhile, the parents are relegated to the library for coffee and "chatting."  I broached the topic with Isla, who said caroling sounded "great," much to my chagrin.  So, I resigned myself to an evening of awkward small talk and warm eggnog.  Just then, Isla's teachers walked by the car, and on a whim, I asked them what this caroling thing was all about, and how many preschoolers went.  She replied something to the effect of "Oh, preschoolers shouldn't go - it's too late at night and they are usually really shy."  Thanks, teachers.

I broke the news to Isla, whose lack of emotional response gave away her lack of passion about the whole situation in the first place.  Meanwhile in my head I was cheering, and applauding the near tragedy I avoided.  Ahh, sweet introversion. 

Year of writing 320. Miles Update.

12/2/12

Miles needs an update.  Here's what's new -

1.  This boy babbles non-stop.  He sounds a little bit like how one would imagine a concerned turkey would sound.  Only funnier.

2.  Miles is scared of lots of stuff, but it isn't anything that makes sense, like monsters or dinosaurs or anything like that.  He is scared of (in order of descending horror)  a: gloves - any kind of gloves.  He literally loses his shit when he sees a glove on the ground.  b: dog paws, but only dog paws from a large black lab/ vizsla mix named Riley.  Miles will sit and scream at this dog's paws until we take him away.  c: Baboon puppets - this has only been verified once, but it was absolutely horrifying when it happened.

3.  He now does animal noises - horse is my favorite, with him sticking his tongue out and giving a raspberry.

4.  He sleeps with Princess Leia.  Case Closed. 

Year of writing 318 - 19. Ah, yes. More puke.

11/30/12 - 12/01/12


Friday started off awesome.  A friend came over with his brother and made huevos rancheros while entertaining Miles.  It was super rad.  Then, I grabbed Isla from school and watched her play with her cousin Paulo in the playground for a couple hours, also super rad.  I made an awesome white bean soup for dinner, and kicked it hard, watching Homeland then fell asleep.  Damn - this day seems rad.


Saturday also started off great - found DJ equipment for cheap at a garage sale, had a clean house, Isla played at her cousin's again, had an amazing Eastern European meal at my sister's (no thanks to my god-awful attempt at Polish knot cookies).  - everything is awesome.  Until about 40 minutes ago.  That's when Miles puked.  His puke used to be cute little baby puke that you just sorta wipe up and continue on your business.  This evening, his little belly was full of cabbage and sausage - not the nicest combination to saturate one's sheets and bedclothes.  Once he was disrobed and the bed undone, Isla began to wail like a mountain lion with it's tail caught in an electrified pencil sharpener (it's a thing).  She was distraught like I've never seen - while Tegan was trying to be nurse mom for Miles, Isla would not accept any solace from me.  When I tried to comfort her, I got kicked and hit for my efforts.  Not fun - and in the end, when Tegan was finally able to calm her down, the reason for the mega-tantrum was "You are two rooms away, that's too far!"  Some days you feel like a super parent, and some days you just try and survive.  Ah yes, more puke indeed.