In the same way that I envied Pamie back in the day, I used to think that I wanted to be as popular as Dooce. But ever since she posted about her recent return to 'marital duties,' her daily photo posts have become long lists of congratulations and commentary on her sex life. Which is gross. I want to be popular, but not at the expense of total strangers wishing me well in my naked pursuits or telling me that if my vagina is too bruised by birth for regular sexploits immediately after, I should offer my asshole.

(I guarantee that if the Boy had tried that line on me when I was postpartum, he would've resembled a set of finger cuffs. One hand down his throat and the other jammed up the party zone. Now that's a tender moment!)

Today I looked up & realized that I haven't written for close to a week. What's up with that? I think that some of it can be attributed to the shame of joining the childless party for a single Saturday night and vomiting in the Savage Garden toilet. That kind of shook me – my whole appeal as a web writer used to lie in silly stories about going to the Garden dressed wholly inappropriately & behaving in a manner entirely unsuited to well-brought-up young ladies. Suddenly I'm back wearing bunny ears and a tight brocade corset, but throwing up after 3 beers. So I was a little rattled by the final demise of what has come to be a touchstone of the Rocketbride experience.

Other than that, I guess I was feeling a bit lame about the fact that I am totally obsessed with slipcovers. I don't sew; I barely decorate my home. It's kind of like a self-replicating Martha Stewart nanobot has colonized me. But it's okay. I'm going to stop planning my slipcover exploits in writing and merely confine myself to reporting actual progress. Such as the fact that this weekend we went to a fabric store. I did not buy slipcover fabric, but I did buy enough felt to make a cute handpuppet for a friend. Other than that, I shall not say...although I do promise you a small puppet picture eventually. If all goes as planned, this little puppet will be too cute to leave off the Internet.

Yesterday Pixie & Joe drove in to spend the night on their way home to Chicago. As they'd arrived too late to see a happy awake baby, I gave them the full dose this afternoon in a ramble around Queen Street West.

We had an excellent time. Pixie wore Blake in his carrier, I toted the massive backpack of babygear and Joe held doors for us as we meandered up & down & in stores. It is very relaxing to be around the two of them – nothing really bothers them and they're not hell-bent on doing anything other than experiencing the day. Even when we realized that our parking metres were 40 minutes overdue and counting, it wasn't the cause of panic or ill-tempered words. Pixie loved playing the momma for the afternoon with my curious baby. Joe bought a coat & played with Blake. I got to visit Peach Berserk for the first time and finish Pixie's waffles at Tequila Bookworm.

It was also refreshing to be with these two on a city ramble; Pixie is nostalgic about her old city and Joe is excited with all of the novelty & possibility. I've always had a secret crush on Toronto ("Do you like me Toronto? Circle yes/no") and I truly enjoy being with friends who aren't jaded by their time in that big Canadian Gomorrah.

My one regret was leaving the camera at home. Blake in the re-purposed confessionals at Black Market Vintage gazing lovingly at Pixie through the confessional mesh is a moment I'd pay money to have on film. And also the one of Blake in Tequila Bookworm gently patting Joe's cheek before he tries to rip his glasses off.

the boy catches blake with daddy's sound equipment.
he's got blue footed sleeper and a microphone...

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 10/04/2004 08:31:00 p.m.