Yep, liveblogging was designed for me. "Tomorrow, you'll be four, and you're going to be good then, right? , and I can never decide which is my favorite.
For all the soulful, funny, silly, loving parts of him, I'll put up with his other side.
I spread out my things and looked around me at the car full of families, holding onto Truman's shirt as he licked the window, eager to play with the pigeons scrambling for treats outside.
and recognize Truman! For how he sometimes calls his baby brother "little fella" and pats him on the head.
I'm knitting here, there and everywhere.
" The poor little girl looked over at him angrily, and he giggled and lunged for the door between the cars.
Oddly, someone had installed a little doo-dad that allowed the bike to be unscrewed and folded in half.
And Robert Scoble, man, is quite the happy fellow.
And as I rode to Trader Joe's last night for bread and bananas, I thought.
We can't just jump in the car and end up at Target, where we'll find that toy for Everett, and the new bathing suit for me, that we can't possibly do without.
The view out the window of a train is so much closer, brighter, more tinged with the country's industrial past than the view out a car window. And, most importantly, we made coffee, in my spotless kitchen. And what will go in the then-empty category? My family has been on its low-car diet for two weeks, officially, and nearly six weeks, unofficially.
I made my own wedding dress of raw ivory silk, with an embroidered silk bodice and lots and lots of silk crepe for the lining.
So I'm "live blogging" Blogher for you, but I'm not live blogging it.
Thank you Tri-Met, and thank you Portland. From state fair knitting to Tri-met riding, I'm willing to give my uniquely passionate-and-wacky perspective.
I had good ideas, really I did.
Red knitted purse, RAZR, one dollar, some change, debit cards, driver's license. Well, I'm afraid even to look at it, myself, because it will only prove how ridiculously behind schedule I am. Truman squirmed out of my arms and, after a few tries at keeping him cooped up in our seat area, I let him launch himself, swaying wildly, up and down the aisle in our coach. "I'm kind of away," I typed. He mentioned the sign. " Actually, that last one made me laugh. All day, I'd been hearing highly-charged emails and IMs flitting around the electronosphere, with phrases like "you could be fired!
Whatever, he doesn't want to go home most days.
And though I dread the possibility of a long evening freak-out, I can't wait to ride the Coast Starlight again. really, really, really late. I told him about how, this time four years ago, I was about to be prepared for surgery. I'm actually doing something about it! That day I downloaded my form.
I walked past it so many times, gazing at it, wishing it would one day return to its former glory.