julian, restaurateur

Julian's thoughts while having lunch at Chipotle a few days ago:

"What if 100 elephants pooped and it filled up this room?" ::::looks around:::: "And what if you hollowed out the middle and left the walls. And then filled it with tables and chairs and served people food...you could call it Shit McGee's."

second grade

Julian started the second grade today! He keeps seeming older and older to me all the time, and in no way resembles the tiny baby that I first met in 2004. He's such a smart and funny little dude now.



I love seeing these boys start their day together. And as much as I couldn't wait for school to start this year, I found myself missing them all day until they both were home again.

cardinal

This afternoon while I was playing with Audrey and Julian in our living room, I saw a blur come toward the window and thunk into the glass, then crookedly fly off a few yards away. I was hoping the little bird was okay when I saw my cat, Stevie Wonder, haul ass in the direction of the fallen bird and come back a few seconds later with his prize catch in his mouth.

I ran outside to see if the bird was still alive, and if it was, how badly it had been hurt by the fall and probably now by my cat trying to murder it. So I yelled, "DROP IT!!" And I swear to you, that cat gave me a look of pure hatred, but he dropped it. Then he backed up a few feet and glared at me while I gently picked up the little bird to examine it.


A young cardinal! And when I inspected him (her?) more closely, I saw that he didn't appear to have any major injuries. Just some ruffled feathers and a little blood on his face from where he bumped into the glass. I brought him through the house to the back yard away from the cat and set him down on the deck. He was breathing hard and his little mouth was wide open, so I got him a small cup of water. I don't know....to drink. Or bathe in. Just wanted to be hospitable to my little patio guest.



For size reference, here he is by my hand. (Eeew. Why does my hand look like it's 100 year old?) Also, he must have been so scared because he dropped the grossest adolescent bird deuce on my hand right before I set him down. Hands were immediately washed, and then I grabbed the camera.

I also glanced over and saw a dead cicada nearby on the deck, so I scooted it over to the water bowl area with a leaf. My hospitality knows no bounds, people. Come to my house and I will give you food and drink.






Then I went inside and Audrey and I watched from the kitchen back door. She really wanted to go out and touch the bird, and even brought her little shoes to me, shrieking and pointing outside. The lady really connects with animals.



Julian, on the other hand, told me it was "totally gross" to bring a bird into the house and wanted nothing to do with it, and went right back to watching television because today was the last day of his summer vacation and he was determined to get the absolute most out of television before it vanishes from his life during the school year.

Audrey and I stayed and watched our cardinal for a while, and then went back to playing. When I checked about 10 minutes later, he had gone. I hope he was able to catch his breath for a bit and then take off back to his family. I wonder what kind of story he's telling them tonight...

gone

I don't know if turning 30 did it, or if it's just something that everyone goes through at some point in their lives, but I've been thinking a lot about death lately. Almost obsessed with it, and it really gets to me sometimes.

So, death. It's a natural part of life, right? We're all born, and we all die. And that's about all we know. Some people believe in Heaven and Hell, some believe in reincarnation, and others believe that there's just nothing. It all ends when you end. Which is maybe the scariest possibility I can think of.

Part of my problem, and why I think so much about death, is that I don't know what I believe. I used to believe in heaven and hell. It's the concept I was taught growing up, and I just believed what I was told. But I don't anymore. There are tons of reasons, which are too long to go into now, but suffice to say I don't believe in any of it at this point. And I wish I still did, in a way. It would make things so much easier to handle. When you die, you get to go to heaven and see all the people you loved and spend forever with them. That's packaged so nicely, isn't it? But it's just too much of a fairy tale for me to buy into anymore.

Here's how I view it now: You spend your life knowing and loving all kinds of people. Some, like a spouse or a parent/child relationship, you're closer with. You live your life and enjoy it - if you're lucky. And one day, you find yourself very old and frail. Old to the point of not being able to do the things you used to do with ease, and having random things keep failing. Eyesight. Hearing. The very bones and muscles that allowed you to do something as simple as standing in earlier years no longer work and you are confined to a wheelchair, or a walker at best. A gradual breakdown of the person you used to be, withering away in a tired old body but with a young spirit. And all that happens if you're lucky. What about the ones who never even get that far? They die of awful things like disease or accidents. Why? Who decides this? Is it random, or is there really some supreme being out there somewhere deciding all this for us? And why would he/she want or need to control these things?

And then, after you live that long life and get old (if you're lucky) you die. That's it. You're done. Everyone you've ever loved - do you ever get to see them again? This is what troubles me, what keeps me awake at night. I found myself looking at Audrey sleeping in her bed so sweetly one night, and the next thing I knew I was sobbing because one day I would have to lose her, and everyone else I've ever cared for. My life will end, and there will be no me.

It's the not knowing that gets me the worst. It's not the actual dying part that I'm scared of. It's what comes , or doesn't - after. People say they know their loved ones are in Heaven, but no one knows. None of us have ever gone there and come back. Nobody has died on an operating table only to wake up and say, "Whoa, that Hell is a really, really bad place. I'm staying outta there." Nobody knows. Nobody knows. Nobody knows.

And I think that really fucking sucks.

back!

Hello, loves! This is me, officially returning to the blogging world. See how much I've changed?


After a ridiculous hiatus, I am back. I've been meaning to be "back" for a stupidly long amount of time now and just haven't done it yet. So this is my way of pumping myself up by being all, "Allison, you just posted a moustached picture of yourself, promising to blog again. Don't be a liar in addition to being the giver of moustache rides." Eeeww. Too far? Probably. And on my very first post back.