I got you

Loverpants and I were watching a show (Okay, it was "Baldwin Hills." Don't hate.) and one of the girls reveals to her friend that she is pregnant. The friend is at a loss for words, cameras are rolling, the two girls hug and the friend says, "I got you." Loverpants says, "Do you really know what that means at 20 years old? I mean...really? 'I got you.' Would you even say our friends know what that means?" ***

Michael is standing in front of the big front desk that dwarfs me for one of fourteen chats we will have throughout the workday at our miserable workplace of low morale and general chaos.  I say that I can't wait to have a baby. "Sometimes you don't have to wait," he says, suddenly pulling his gaze away, smiling and sighing at the same time.

"Michael, do you have a kid?!"

I am suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to be there for this person whom I have only known two months, whose girlfriend will give birth in four.

***

I get to meet Baby B. the day he is born. He does not have a name yet but he has Michael's face and Katie is glowing and Michael is amped and my eyes fill with tears -- it is too much to see my friends distilled into a new person.

*** Katie and Michael are among the first people I tell. Our baby has the same due date as Wyatt, just one year later.

***

Michael's dad is his best man and he gives the toast, "Katie, I ask that you never stop loving Michael, because I know that he will never stop loving you."

I cannot see Katie or Michael during the toast, but I can imagine what they look like. Katie, so beautiful and unpretentious, is smiling warmly, she has one hand around her wine glass and one around Michael, the person who stood by her as she was breathing her way through labor, the person who reminds her to keep breathing through every subsequent trial. Michael is smiling humbly, he is thinking that he is "wicked embarried" by the toast, but he is standing taller in this moment because he is surrounded by the dozens of people who embolden him, whom he does not hesitate to tell that he appreciates.

I give thanks in this moment for awful McJobs that compel friendships to grow.

***

Michael, you once cried before 4th grade listening to "Innocent Man"; you are the perfect sensitive, intense, good-humored person for Katie. Katie, you once smuggled Henrietta the chicken under your coat and pretended it ain't no thang, you are the perfect fun-loving, caring and spiritual person for Michael. Together, you will continue to cry all sorts of tears, make all kinds of mischief, and continue to gain new hearts and new love for one another and for your son Wyatt.

I love you kats and I want you to know, forevah and evah -- I got you.

Love, K-Swizz

Mamabama, etc.

I know that the DNC came and all the while you've all been waiting for Kendra to give you permission to practice popping out those chads AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT??? In all seriousness, I have felt a little bit sheepish about posting about Election '08 because I'm more of a local political scenester, and even here in my little hot pocket of civic engagement, it's easy to get jaded. But I suppose I'm on the Obama bus. We listened to the Audacity of Hope a couple of months ago. Even though it's 95% stumping, you really can't beat that gravelly voice, so enthusiastic is Barack about the foundations of this republic. However, the whole time we listened, we were wondering when he was going to talk about hope, and the audacity thereof. But we never got to it. Maybe our literal HOPES were too high, or maybe it was just the abridged version cutting out the meaty stuff?

I liked Michelle, aka Mamabama's speech. Did not love it, thought she was a little robotic in the delivery, but I'm a tough critic of speeches. First of all, my father is a brilliant orator, just someone I admire immensely for his theatrics and slinging images like paint on a canvas. Secondly, I don't really admire politicians for their oratory. I really think public service should be more deeds not words, but of course this would contradict my opinion of Dubya, which is to say that he often reminds me of the kid in 1st grade who would eat a lot of Elmer's glue from off his hand. Perhaps that explains why he would sometimes copy my handwriting papers, such that the teacher knew immediately whereby he had achieved such polished results. He always copied down my name.

***

Did I ever tell you about the time I met Helen Thomas? I was 20. She said George W. Bush made Dan Quayle look like a Rhodes Scholar. What a corker she was.

Michigrandparents

I like to take cheap shots at the Mid-West sometimes, especially as an insider moving out to look back in, if that makes sense. Like how the Mid-West just found out about craigslist two years ago but is still afraid to use it. And how it drives an SUV but lingers in the passing lane just hugging the speed limit. And maybe the Mid-West will consider a vacation overseas, but that would require a passport and that's kind of time-consuming isn't it? I mean, I heard my secretary's sister's neighbor's parakeet say it took four months! Sometimes it seems impossible that I lived in the M-Dub for 17 years.  But deep down I know it is so much a part of my fibers.  My heart and spirit will always be unabashedly Mid-Western friendly. My sense of humor will always be Mid-Western generous. My driving will always be... yeah, anyway, I may dog the Mid-West for being a bit myopic at times, but some of my favorite people live there...including Baby Girl's grandparents.

and her uncle Joe and his dog Pennie.

and her auntie Shannon.

I think I look like the mom from "Home Improvement" here: