Sensical

One of those international fusion cuisine places opened up in my neighborhood. They've got an Asian/Latin menu, and they've named the restaurant "Thai Chihuahua."

***

Nah, just messing with you. It's a punchline that came to me in a dream.

***

We got so much done this weekend. I cleaned the house, cleaned out the fridge, cleaned the study. Okay, so I nearly burned the house down with a candle... everything else was positive.

MOBB put up the Christmas decorations with almost no help from me. I was busy doing other stuff. Really.

***

The new tree looks great, I must say.

***

Wolfboy spent a few hours at the office with me Wednesday, watching DVDs, charming everyone around. One of our Venezuelan staffers asked me, "Donde esta Lobito?" after I dropped him off with MOBB.

It means, "Where is Little Wolf?"

***

THEGIRL drew the most brilliant-yet-mad picture today, and as soon as I can convince the scanner to talk to my laptop again I'll post an image. You'd have to just see it to believe it.

She and I had a moment tonight after we returned from buying groceries. She commenced to whining when I explained that bedtime was coming soon. She blurted out some angry baby talk, a common tactic of hers.

"YOU need to be nice to me," I said in Big Daddy Voice.

She scowled. "And you need to be nice to ME," she said in perfectly clear English.

We glared at each other for a minute.

"Okay, but bedtime is still coming," I told her.

She's not a child; she's a force of nature, like her mother.

***

What do you think... keep his name as Wolfboy, or go with Lobito?

***

Nighttime is the right time, right? Isn't that what Brother Ray Charles said?

This is it, my time. I'm the night owl all right. As I said before, if I won the lottery I'd never see another sunrise. I said that to a young woman once who replied, "If you won the lottery you'd DIE??"

(Uh no, you see, I'd have the option of setting my own hours, so to speak, and given that freedom I would never again willingly get up with the sun...)

***

I hope Santa brings me some biceps for Christmas.

***

This is the time that calls me though. It used to be so clear. It seemed like every song, every thought, every passing moment just sang to me, beckoning me. Everyone else would be asleep and I'd be wrapped in some meaningless project, maybe hunkered over a pad with a pen in hand, maybe lost in the headphones, or outside somewhere, following the piper.

I can't play like that anymore though. Sunrise will come, and I'll need to rise too, vampiric tendencies be damned. I've got kids to take to school, clients to see, a job to work, and a life to jump back into.

I'm making less and less sense. Good night, sweet night...