Touch You Last

Well, Teddy had his first flight today -- a five hour flight at that. And he was completely awesome. Absolutely no problems through the take-off or landing. He got a tiny bit cranky near the end, but we did happen to be flying over Calgary at that moment, so draw your own conclusions there. And his superstar behavior didn't end with the flight. With the three hour time difference, we really wanted to keep him up later than usual, and get him used to this crazy west coast time ASAP. Well, the little dude managed to stay awake until 7pm Pacific, which is wicked because his bedtime back home is 7pm. Anyhow, I'm back in Vancouver for the first time in three years and things are pretty much as I left them. BC beers still make me sexy, I 'm still the Mayor of Gastown, and saki probably still tastes like butane (I have no desire to reconfirm this fact). The first thing I'm always struck with when I land here is how subtely different it looks. There's something about the a...

So Teddy said his first words last weekend. It was the day after his baptism and I'd just gotten him up after a nap. He looked around at everyone there in our living room—my brother, my mom and dad, my nieces—and then he shouted out, "GAY GUYS! GAY, GAY GUYS! GUYS GAY! GAY GUYS!" His first words and the kid outs my entire family. I suppose that doesn't count. Also not counting is the fact that he's said DAD DAD DAD about one hundred times, because just like GAY GUYS it's an accidental sounds and he's attached no meaning to it. When we stops saying DAD to the cats, the front door, a spoonful of oatmeal, or whatever gaggle of gay guys happens to be in my living room... and starts actually looking in my direction as he says it, maybe we'll count it then. He also got a few teeth since last month. We were in Georgetown a little while back for a McLean reunion, and Teddy slept terribly for the whole week we were there. Then the day we got back, tooth one ha...

Hmm. Watching Let The Right One In and it’s scaring me all to crap. It’s not horrific so much as moody. And mood is something I don’t get. Alright, fine: that’s a lie. It’s not that I don’t get mood, it’s just that I can’t put my finger on exactly how mood is accomplished, and why it can be so damn freaky. I recognize it when I see it, but I can’t deconstruct it. What’s really funny (and not ha-ha funny, but funny-peculiar) is that, while I’m enjoying the hell out of this movie, I also have this strong desire to be doing something else. Between work and Teddy, of late I’m accustomed to having small bursts of spare time. But don’t cry for me Argentina: I get my fair share of free time. It’s just that it generally comes in many short intervals. So when I have in excess of an hour of screw-around time in one continuous chunk, something just seems a bit off. What else? Dunno. I haven’t totally forsaken this blog. I’ll be back again soon. Like, this-weekend soon, not four-m...