It’s been awhile since I blogged—May has been a busy month! So here’s a quick lowdown on the Rocketfam’s recent activities.
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Chapter I: Flight of the Hummingbird Due to my own idiocy (I deleted the still shots accidentally) I only have one quickie visual of this story, but it’s a fun one. Several weeks back, I came home late from work to find a hummingbird flitting between our TV antenna and umbrella plant in the living room. When it sensed my presence, it banged against the window a few times, until I got near enough to open the 6′ x 5′ window; in the meantime, it flew into the kitchen, where the window is a fraction of the width, and where the fixings for my dinner were waiting. At this point, I was charmed by the presence of the little guy. Surely, I thought, it’s wonderful luck to have a hummingbird in your downtown apartment when you’re pregnant! (Just so you know: our windows were open about 2 inches at the bottom; the little bugger had to make an actual choice to fly in. This wasn’t a case of "I’m-flying-I’m-flying-whoa-how’d-a-couch-get-in-the-sky?") I opened the kitchen window, and moments later, the idiot bird dropped between the two panes of glass in the window; got out; and promptly got stuck again. My enchantment veered quickly into full-on terror: if it’s good luck to have a hummingbird in your apartment, then what kind of luck is it to have said hummingbird die of a stress-induced stroke in your apartment? [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xf20Y-lK3GU&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1] During the next 90 minutes, I called Animal Control, the Wok Shop Cafe, and read The Amber Spyglass in our bedroom to block out the awful buzzing sound of a panicked hummingbird trapped in a window. By the time my lo mein had arrived, I was starving (Animal Control had ordered me not to go into the room with the hummingbird, as that would stress it out further); that said, the buzzing seemed to have stopped. I crept through the apartment; the window was empty. But I had no idea if the bird had escaped into the apartment, lying in wait for me to get near it so it could poke my eyes out with its needly little beak. So I called off Animal Control, and then I called them again, and 30 minutes later—9:30 PM—a very nice, and only slightly patronizing, man showed up and looked under all my furniture to confirm that the hummingbird had, indeed, escaped, probably by squeezing between the bottom frame of the top window and into freedom. At one point, taking in my facial expression and rubbernecking, he said, "Are you afraid of it?" to which I replied, "I’m very freaked out, YES!" After he left, I had myself a bowl of ice cream and spewed forth stress-relieving tears like any good pregnant woman should. |
 Me at the start and posing with Polamalu Chapter II: A Tweaker Dressed Only in a Ninja Turtle Shell Just Ran Past Me; It Must Be May The third Sunday in May brings a grand San Francisco tradition: Bay to Breakers. Conceptually, it’s a footrace/walk that starts at the Embarcadero and goes straight through the city to the ocean (Bay to Breakers, get it?). In actuality, it’s a uniquely San Francisco combination of frat party and nudist colony, parade and freakfest. I actually ran it three years ago, my first race ever, and it was wonderful: evenly paced, filled with cheering supporters, a big finale of Pacific breezes cooling my tired skin. This year, I walked it with three friends, and let me tell you: never again. Yes, I’m glad I did it, and thus can offer an opinion on it, but the one lesson I learned during the 7.5 miles was that I’m just too damned old for some things. We walked with the walkers and floats, which is to say, with the drunk bastards who woke up at 5 AM to don their beer hats and get plastered. That I could avoid, except that there’s also a sense of entitlement for the drunkies: "It’s Bay to Breakers, come ON!" I don’t know if they thought my belly was a clever costume or what, but basically, walk with the riffraff and get annoyed with them, and you just do not belong. Walking-wise, I’m proud to say I covered the full length of it with only one short break, despite the sweltering heat (our third heat wave this spring). All told, I walked nearly10 miles that morning in 85-degree heat, no mean feat for my 28th week, if I do say so. If we do it again next year, though, I’m going with the runners, whether or not I’m walking. |
 Our furry friend Chapter III: The Best Tap Water, Ever Memorial Day weekend we headed up to Lake Tahoe to my friend’s ski house, and I had one goal for the weekend: to spend as much time as possible reading in the sun. I went armed with Harry Potters 6 and 7, and by Sunday morning, had finished The Deathly Hallows, so I’d say I achieved my goal. I also went on some short hikes and saw this little guy, who posed for us for a good five minutes before scampering away. For those of you who have not been to Lake Tahoe: it’s beautiful. Extraordinarily so. It’s also big. And very clean. And if you drink from bottled water while you’re there, you’re missing out on the best tap water I’ve ever tasted. |
 We need a crib?! Chapter IV: What Do We Need That For? A few weeks back, my boss bought us our first item from our registry: the crib. Aside from being bowled over by the generosity, I was assailed by a sudden sense of panic: we need a CRIB? To quote The Doctor: "What? WHAT?" The constant kicking and my ever-expanding middle is not enough evidence of the changes to come: what it really takes is furniture. RocketMan, while handy as all get-out, is not big into assembly, I’m afraid. After a snappish phone call to me and one trip to the hardware store—which involved a nice walk to bring down his blood pressure—he did a fine job of assembling the Emily Mini-Crib, which now stands in our alcove. His lesson learned was, when faced with poorly-translated instructions, line up all of the nuts and bolts and parts first, and take notes on the instructions as to what gets used where. The assemblage equivalent of measure twice, cut once, I suppose. |
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Chapter V: Other Stuff That Happened I got a TransLink card, an exciting new development in my life as a city-dweller. Blueberries and raspberries have been on sale at Safeway for three weeks, which means I’m eating them three times a day. I’ve woken up several nights in a row with charley horses. 17 Again is awesome to see with the girlfriends; Star Trek is awesome to see any time, with anyone. |
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Next week on RocketCityDigs: RocketMan moves around yet more stuff; RocketGirl squeezes into a Devil-Ette costume; RocketBaby gets bigger. Until next time! |
