Bath time is fun time
We were at a party Friday, and talking with this couple about how everyone should have toys in the bathroom. “Totally,” I said. “Bath time is fun time.” We have this narcissistic ducky and a color-changing dinosaur in the shower. The other day we were in the shower and I kept putting the dinosaur under the hot water to watch him turn pink. “Do you play with the dinosaur this much when I’m not here?” Sara asked. “Usually more,” I said truthfully.
The ladybugs are still an issue. This morning I was getting up and I heard Sara say, “One two! Hahahahaha!” I asked what that was all about, and she had killed two beetles at the same time. They bring out her bloodlust. Our bedroom is like judgement day for bugs. If Sara gets them, she’ll pop their little bodies in a tissue. If I get them, I scoop them up in an empty cereal box and set them free.
Decorating continues. The latest episode is a committment to buying a new houseplant at every grocery store trip. I like to stick toys in the dirt with the plants, like this pirate and the three-eyed fish from the Simpsons.
Our walls are really coming along since we got the molding hooks. You can also barely see the little blue and red speck against the white curtain backdrop. I hung a tiny Spider-Man toy above the dining room table, with thread attached to each hand so it looks like he’s swinging across the room. It’s amazing.
Sociables. This is our new friend, Roxanne, between my beer and coffee at the Matador. She came over last night, and joined us at a party at Jason, Michael and Nathaniel’s house Friday. We had a great time at the party. Jason and Michael both finished their albums, and Nathaniel is managing a campaign for a city council candidate. It’s exciting to catch up, and see friends doing well. It’s comforting seeing friends at all. Since they moved to North Portland, it had been a while. The party was so fun. I got very drunk after a horrible day at work, but just got all giggly and silly. I licked every chocolate covered almond in a bowl and put them back. Then some girl and I took bites of each Fig Newton and put them back in the box. They were all eaten by the party’s end.
This is a party for a co-worker of Sara’s. She works at Storables, so every work party incorporates the name: “Snowables,” and “Eileenables,” for example. We’re going to have a party next weekend to celebrate Sara being laid off. It’s called “Sarables,” which sounds like a disease, appropriately enough. I think we should call it “Sarables Palsy.” Look how cute Sara’s tiny pigtails are.
Don’t shit here, part 2. Longtime readers might remember my favorite bathroom in Portland. The unusable toilet has since been removed, as well as the wall between stalls. Now it’s one big gross stall with no door and this sign on the wall.