Bon voyage, Kim


If you saw the finals of American Idol, you already know what I’m about to say. The “original” songs were anything but. The performances were OK. Justin’s hair was fabulous. Kelly stayed away from the flesh-colored lipsticks. Who should win? Who cares? Flip a coin or something. If they’re going to make them sing the same sappy songs, what does it matter?

And why did they change the format at the last minute? I mean, one of the best reasons for watching was the catty feedback of the judges/Simon.

And that poor guy that won the British version! What was that about? His song was terrible! And the poor guy had a lisp! So he chooses to sing “The Sweetest Thing”?! “The Thweeteth Thing”? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Jethuth, Mary and Jotheph!

*snicker* I love it when I crack myself up.

At any rate, Auggie and I hosted a home visit with our Parents As Teachers parent educator, Cheri, this afternoon. She exclaims over all of the wonderful things that Auggie can do that I take for granted. ‘Look how well he can pick up his food!’ ‘He’s looking back at you to see your reaction [before he drops yet another toy off through the banister]!’ ‘He’s walking around so well!’

It’s always nice to know that he’s keeping up with most other toddlers his age. Not that there is any pressure or anything…

Kim made it back to San Francisco, safe and sound. I got to wheel her all the way to the gate, which was nice, because she was randomly selected for extra security screenings. So I got to take her bag for an extra X-raying, open them up for a thorough search at the gate and then take her down the jetway. Poor Kim was then strapped into some kinda crazy contraption to get loaded onto the plane. She looked like Hannibal Lector or something!

I guess they really didn’t want her to fall out of the chair…

It was really great to see Kim. I told her that I think our friendship is a really good one, because even though we hadn’t seen her since April, it was like she never left.

Since her last visit, she had lost her job, gone through a few weeks of unemployment hairiness and gotten another job. I mean, when you think about it, it’s kind of funny that we still keep in touch at all. She is a single, cosmopolitan woman. I’m a married, suburban mommy. She works in the fast-paced wacky world of the Internet. I do the same freelance publication, talking to executives of the same health insurance company about the same topics every month. But we still had things to talk about all weekend. And not just indie rock.