Mooreover / Blog

I’ll do this without the pomp and circumstance of last time - see if people still read it…

Kami’s pregnant! Due on January 5th - two days after my own birthday. Kami’s starting to show, but Selah still doesn’t quite understand how much her life is going to change six months from now. Before you ask, we don’t (and won’t) know the sex of the baby. I was up for finding out this time and Kami looked at me and said “Who are you?!” I took that to mean that it’s going to be a surprise again.

My sister Andrea and her husband Rob had a baby girl on the 10th - Ryann Elizabeth Ferguson. I don’t know much beyond that, so Andrea will have to update you all in the comments. Welcome Ryann!

There are two people at the table now. The man, of course, wasn’t good at directions, so she had to spend an inordinate amount of time on the cell phone, smiling and laughing occasionally at his inability to find her, seemingly unaware of her own disability in giving directions. If Mickey Mouse was a valley girl, he would sound like this girl, and I can’t help but tell that her voice doesn’t match the rest of her. She has dark hair, dark eyes, and very sharp features. Her voice should be warm and give off smoke in its timbre. She does have a heavy hand with the makeup though, and her smile is a little small, and perhaps the small mouth and sharp nose account for the pitch.

He’s here now, and they’ve been talking across opposite sides of a small table. She’s leaning back, her arms hanging like a mannequin, the decal of her shirt stretched awkwardly across her large breast, which seems to be her point. He leans forward and starts rubbing his hands together – unconsciously telling the female of his species that he can make fire with two sticks, that he can kill wild game and wrap her in their skins.

She can’t stop tilting her head to the side, and he can’t stop talking with his hands. He’s taking up over half of the table now, as if his consumption of coffee table real estate will leave her with no choice but to sell her family’s share and take up with the wealthy coffee table real estate baron.

In reality they are talking about conversation starters, his t-shirt, and her favorite jeans, which she happens to be wearing now. He finished his entire drink in three minutes (grande iced mocha, easy on the ice), and she’s still sipping from her tall vanilla mocha, which she was warming her hands with before I got here.

His interview continues, and he’s starting to talk too much. She’s looking absently at her coffee cup, and she is staring more and tilting her head less. She’s realized that she doesn’t have to work hard with this one, and I can’t tell if this puts her off or if she’s content with the capture.

40-year old guy with long skater hair and soccer shoes just walked in to buy ice cream with his girlfriend and their two friends - but not great friends - they have the relative ease and awkwardness of neighbors.

I pack my things up and leave before I write something I regret.

It’s been one of those weeks, where things didn’t quite work out the way that I hoped. I’d like to end it with a laugh, and thanks to these guys, I did. Whatever the circumstances of my week, it’s not as bad as what happened to these guys:

I’m trying to wind down enough to go to bed, and I just watched a scene in a television episode where a frustrated novelist turns to writing for a blog in an effort to rid himself of writer’s block. If he were listening I could tell him that it doesn’t work that way, which is a realization that I’ve been coming to over the last few days.

I think best when stuck with loud mundane tasks. Today I pressure-washed our back patio and mowed our lawn, which was about 2.5 hours of the loud and the mundane. As I swept the sprayhead back and forth like a metronome I realized that it might be time to end the blog. It’s had a good run - over four years of at least weekly posts, sharing thoughts, pictures, events and media with friends and family. But life is becoming more and more complex, and it might be time for me to simplify things. I don’t know yet for sure, but it’s a fertilized egg of thought that will soon have nailbeds and teeth.

My tv recommendations haven’t gone that well in the history of the blog. “Creature Comforts” was pulled after three episodes, despite years of success on the BBC. I loved it, but many of you weren’t too impressed. I tried to turn my family on to a little known show on Spike TV called “MXC” - which is just a japanese game show with dubbed American voices, and as funny as anything on tv. Most of the laughs come from watching an uncoordinated contestant take an uncomfortable fall into a big lake of goo, but the dubbed commentary is side-splitting as well. ABC has replicated that show in a new offering called “Wipeout”, with American contestants and American commentary. There is an element of the entertainment that is missed (the eccentricity of Japanese showmanship and its interpretation by dubbed American voices), but the physical humor remains. I watched “Wipeout” tonight, and I can tell that I’m going to have a hard time turning it off.

So this post might be vague to protect the innocent - which are my thoughts and as of now undisclosed information. Information that will see the light of day with any luck.

I’m sitting at “The Cow” by myself, taking some time reading through my writing journal and thinking about the future. The last entry in my writing journal was made July 1st, 2001, and on that page I wrote down an idea that I think demands further exploration. Over the next six months it’s an idea that I hope to pursue ardently. Pursuing this idea might mean that the blog might suffer. There are only so many hours in a day, and I have a hard enough time making time once a week to log-in and try to say something revelatory. The inverse could also be true - tapping the cathartic might mean that I’ll only become post-happy.

I wrote in my writing journal today. I apologized to myself for the lapse in visitations, and then turned seven blank pages past my last post and started writing - one blank page for each year.

Work is keeping me busy. My daughter and sunny days keeps me busy, but in the most satisfying way. Keeping a daughter entertained will probably keep my young longer, forcing me out of doors and into natural avenues of exploration.