kris

Heather's got my back

Blog Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 00:50 on 12 August 2006

This morning, Kris and Heather were up early to move a truckload of Heather's stuff up north to Oakland (so sad! Our roomie is leaving us!).

On the way out, Heather said to Kris, "I need a Starbucks!" so off they went to the nearest Starbucks. As they arrived, Heather turned to Kris. "I'm buying, order anything you like!"

So he ordered a coffee.

Oh shit.

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 21:09 on 9 August 2006

Call from Kris today. Shake up happened at work today, and half the staff was laid off. Kris included.

Contrast our two reactions:

Mine: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Kris': "Eh."

Kris had been working a LOT of hours semi-recently, fewer recently because the big push was over and they were all recovering from the long hours. His boss was forced out two weeks ago, just as the department was ramping up to work horrendous hours again, hours Kris wasn't sure he wanted to work.

He wasn't sure about the long term viability of the company, given the hours they were about to be asked to work. His boss leaving gave them a small reprieve, but ultimately not a full one. Kris had been asking if I had enough hours to keep him busy full time. Mike really doesn't want spouses working together, and I can see how scary the dynamics would be: feast and famine of a small business is scary when all your eggs are in one basket.

One basket.

One very small, burnt out basket.

To say I'm not a bit scared would be lying. I'm nervous. We have health insurance paid until the end of next month, so we're good there.

Kris, I'm with you, just as I before. It's just a fire under the butt to get us going, time to start on our projects, see where we end up. We have our safety net. We have each other. You are my rock. :*

Row your loveshack six words long in the rain

Blog kitt decided around 00:51 on 3 August 2006 to publish this:

After leaving the watchtower, Kris' niece and nephew joined our car on our continuing journey to our Grand Canyon lodging. As with any two children under 17 and over 4, put two in the backseat of any car, and they'll start fighting. One two three, right on time, the fighting started.

Kris decided to end the fighting with the distraction technique, by asking them if they knew any songs. Simutaneously, they starting singing, "Singin' in the rain! We're singin' in the rain. Just singin' in the rain. Singin' in the rain!"

After about three minutes of the endless repeat of the four words with minor variations, Kris turned to me. "I think they'd do well at 'This Song is Just Six Words Long'."

The chorus is the back seat immediately shifted. "This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long."

A few minutes later, I realized the song had changed again. William was still singing, "This song is just six words long," but Michelle had changed back to, "Singin' in the rain!" Kris looked over at me, smiled, and started in.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..."

Before we the kids had joined us in the car, Kris and I had been discussing songs that would never, ever be allowed in our collective iTunes library. "My Hump" was one that wouldn't make it, unless I had to choose between "My Hump" and "Loveshack" by the B52s. I'll let the shack burn to the ground first. That song is the worst song known to mankind, and NOT going on my iPod.

Tragically, with the row, row, rowing and the sing, sing, singing and the word, word, wording, the only song in my head, yes, was "Loveshack."

I gave in, and started belting out the song, bringing our cacophony to a fevered pitch.

I lasted all of ten seconds before laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

Good times.

Make it through the next ten years

Blog Instead of being asleep at 20:57 on 2 August 2006, kitt created this:

On our first day of vacation at the Grand Canyon, we drove into the East gate and stopped at the Watchtower. The watchtower sits close to the edge of the Canyon, with four stories to climb up for spectacular views. The nearness to the entrance gate and the spectacular views means many people stop there for their first view of the canyon.

Which means crowds.

Even on a Wednesday.

We arrived close enough to sunset that most of the other people there were also arriving at the end of a long day of travelling.

At least, that's what i'm convinced was the reason for the large, red-headed woman used to explain why it was okay to scream at her children in front of everyone. The child was about to take a picture that his mother didn't want taken (with a digital camera, no less); the picture was not of his mother, so I'm not really sure the reason for the woman's violent reaction,

Through the course of our visit, we crossed paths again with the woman, her husband, and their three children several times. The three siblings were all red-heads, and all very striking, good looking kids. Each will definitely grow up breaking hearts.

Assuming they can overcome the verbal beatdowns they receive from their parents.

In the twenty or so minutes our lives crossed with their, neither parent said one nice thing to any of the children. Worse, the father's voice was accusatory, the mother's dripping with contempt.

I wanted to take the kids aside, especially the boy, and talk to them. I wanted to tell him it gets better, that, no, this is not what life is, and that yes, thinking for himself is a good thing. I wanted to give him a hug, and tell if he keeps trying, he'll do wonderful amazing things. I wanted to encourage him to try, even when people say no. I wanted to tell him that not all women are like his mother, and, yes, he can do right.

And I wanted to tell him that his sister was skilled in parental manipulation, and that he'd need to learn how to play the game. Oh, kid, learn to play the game, and grow bigger than this shitty childhood life dealt you.

Frivolity of my pain

Blog kitt decided around 02:06 on 31 July 2006 to publish this:

End of a long day spent on the ultimate field, and one where we ended victorious beating Brass Monkey 9-7 at hard cap (had they scored that last point, it would have been 8-8, and double game point).

I started off the day thinking I could play, but managed only the warm-up square drill before my back seized again. I played the first game against Frizbee Nation, as they were the bottom ranked team in our pool, and I figured it would be a good warm up game.

Oddly enough, R played with them. They clearly wanted to use R as we use Adam Brown, but not as well, as he had to attempt to run down a series of tragically misdirected hucks. It was strange to see him, much less see him play. I doubt he knows that he and his friends are dead to me. Can't wait to tell them.

I tried to keep playing, but even two Advil™ and one Vicodin™ didn't help. My back was still in too much pain to do much other than walk, and slowly at that.

The end of the day, I was hobbling around like a little old lady. I turned to Kris and commented,

"Either the vic wore off, or it didn't help in the first place."

"I thought you were going to take the second one."

"I was, but it's our last one, and I didn't want to waste it on something as frivolous as my pain."

blink.

blink. blink.

"I hope in five years you'll understand just how funny that statement really was."

City pulse before dawn

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 10:11 on 29 July 2006

Funny how early morning cities are so much different from "normal" cities. Very rarely am I ever up before most people. Even more rarely am I up before the sun during the summer (except for ultimate tournaments, of course). Kris is having a routine procedure done in the morning (who makes 6:30 am doctor appointments? Oh, yeah, my husband), so we were up uncomfortably early to head north.

The advantage of being the first patient is that you can eat again the soonest. At least he'll be done at 8:30.

I've dropped him off at the doctor's office, and am off to find an okay breakfast place. I'll most likely head to the nearest Peet's. As I'm walking over, though, I stop and just wait, listening to the sounds of a sleeping city on the verge of waking up. It's light out, but only a few people are out, most of them somehow connected to the hospital.

It's strange, this morning thing.

Time to go back to bed.