completely unrelated topics that just kinda... happened. [28 Oct 2001|08:47pm] Spent a good bit of today hanging plastic and paper and ripping tape in our living room. Helping my dad. He was speckle-painting the ceiling and getting ready to paint the walls. It's fun. Work, but fun. Heh, did the same thing on Friday, except then we got into some serious discussion while we were at it. Which was also fun. Today we didn't talk much. Unique thing about my family: we're very comfortable with absolute silence. It's not unusual for us to be on a road trip and go two hours, all of us in the car, without ever speaking; shattering the silences only rarely with a "Look at that!" or "Eeek!" (depending on who is driving ;-)). I found out last week that babies cry in church the most when it's silent. Of course, I being the curious creature that I am, wondered why. I never cried like that. So... I'm theorizing that it's because these babies never hear silence, so they feel obligated to fill it. Thus, pray or bless or moment-of-silence things, and waah-waah-waah. Which would explain why I wasn't a crying-baby; our house is full of silences. (Also probably why I was a quite late talker.) But some adults never stop! So of course babies cry in silences: what's this? Speaking of babies, I saw the prettiest little baby today... ::shrugs:: And last week, one of my friends ran to take a diaper somewhere, and left the baby crawling around on the carpeted floor. With me the only other person in the room. I'm like, you can't leave me! What if he cries? What do I do? I'm envisioning all the women in the class next door pouring out of the room and coming to berate me after five seconds of this baby bawling. Which, thankfully, he didn't do. No, he sees my shiny fake-silver-and-fake-leather-Walmart watch. The clasp, not the face. Okay, whatever rocks your boat. And he had this funky rattle thing, and I'm asking him what it is (he doesn't talk), and we're speculating that it's some sort of worm -- it's a S-shaped thing made up of little spheres, looking vaguely like the sandworms on Dune. I'm wondering, quite sensibly, why they're making rattles in the shapes of worms -- ooh, maybe it's a rattle snake -- and he's just staring at me as I ask all these deep philosophical questions about the meaning of worm-shaped rattles. Then he reaches for my watch again. Fine, play with the watch. Just as long as it stays on my wrist. At which point, his mother comes back. It's a caterpillar rattle. Not only that, but it twists around and does poses; a very cool toy indeed. I muse something about 'they' make all the cool toys now that we're all grown up, and explain in half-enunciated words that I thought it was a worm. I'm not sure what that says about my psyche. post comment

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