Aug 132010

Before I left for work yesterday, it began to downpour. Because I never think very far ahead, I kicked off my shoes, grabbed the camera and ran outside with Chooch.

“I had a dream that you were taking me to my new classroom and you looked ugly,” Chooch said when we were on our way to buy him new clothes for school.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“What?! It was just a dream. God.” And then came a series of annoyed and exasperated grunts that he must have learned from Henry because I am never annoyed or exasperated.

Nearly every shirt he picked out has skulls on it.  And he’s clearly not afraid to make bold statements by wearing purple.  I wonder what scene-kid fashion will be like by the time he’s in high school. I wonder if there will be cool scene-ish four-year-olds in his pre-school class.

Henry came home from work during our photo shoot and proceeded to sit across the street in the parking lot like a creeper, probably finishing up his daily phone sex with his girlfriend. I didn’t even realize he was there until I came back inside and saw that he texted “you guys are idiots.” He’s just jealous that he’s too old to play in the rain; it’ll enrage his arthritis.

And then I had to leave for work, where I sat in air conditioning for the next five hours while squirming under wet hair and damp clothes. And when I get sick, of course I’ll act surprised.

Mar 082008

My photo shoot ad was posted yesterday on Craigslist and I’ve since received two interested replies. This is what I wanted, it’s true, but now I’m freaking out because I’m going to have to talk to strangers. So I begged Christina to come in from Cincinnati (if she survives the current snow storm) for that weekend and we’re going to pretend like I’m a mute and she’s my psychic translator. Plus, she’ll flirt with everyone and make them feel real uncomfortable, which should make for some very artistically awkward poses.

I tried to confide in Henry about my feelings of inadequacy and nervousness.

"I’m really worried about this now! What if people think I’m an idiot?" I fretted.

"You are an idiot," he assured.