2005-10-31 - 7:36 a.m.

Ok, first and foremost, let's get this out of the way: HARPY HALLERWEEN! There. We got that out of the way. Good thing too. Because I've got some things we need to cover, and I can't be chancing that vengeful goblins and gremlins will be interfering due to my lack of proper Halooowine greetings. Or something.

You know when you get distracted and your Cinnamon Life is in the milk too long and then you go to get a big spoonful and it's all mushy and soggy and it comes up all at once, like this riboflavin-filled, cinnamon-tasting leviathan? Yeah, this isn't one of my rando metaphors. I'm just eating Cinnamon Life as I write this and I neglected it and now it's all soggy. God, not everything I write is coded you know? That said, new information that I've received has made it practically impossible for me to stay "friends" (or something aproximate to that term) with Ben. It's nice to know that while TC and I were trying our best to resuscitate the near flatlining friendship (check out the book "Benervention: Awkward Conversation Over Pizza & Beer" at your local library today!) ["Benerventon" - copyright Hayley] Ben was doing his best on his end to sabotage it. Ah well. Nothing lasts forever.

Ok, so on to the business at hand. Shall we?

The players: 1 Man (that's me) and 3 Babies. Or 3 Babies And A Man (that's me) if we want to jibe it with the title of this here business. Ready? Go!

The Story of Baby #1, who's really not so much of a baby

I've seen a ton of Cameron lately. There's really 3 reasons for this. #1 - Despite my ridculous amounts of work lately - and teeth extracting - I've gone by Justin and Renee's because there close to my work and I was sick of hardly ever seeing the kids. Not through any fault of theirs. Justin had just brought the kids to Uno's for lunch with me during my break not long ago. It gave us a chance to slip nicely into our gay dads role. Though he usually doesn't ask me, he just goes into character whether I want to or not. But yeah, so I had stopped by for some social calls and had seen Cam-bot & friends lately. It also doesn't hurt that my dentist is right down the street from them. #2 - I'm going to keep this reason brief. Friends shouldn't let friends drink and drive, sure. But friends really shouldn't let friends drink and IM. For drunkenlies. Last Thursday, after B. Cole, Shan-Y & God's Favorite and I concluded another successful meeting of the Jack Bristow Fan Club (aka - watching Alias), I proceeded to knock back a few (more) Moosehead that B. Cole had so generously brought over. As well as finish the Stella that I had bought. Yeah. That shit ain't Miller Lite you know. So next thing I know, I'm Bellicose Barry and I'm itchiin' for a fight. And since Kenichi and I were the only ones home, I took the fight online. [Which isn't to say Kenichi and I don't fight. You just wait.] Long story short - too late - I got into it with Justin (and by extension dragged Andrea in to). "it" shall remain unspecified. But it should be noted that they didn't fight with me. I just fought with them. And knowing me I was angry that they wouldn't fight back. I'm known to be slightly contrary from time to time. This was one of those times. The funny thing about getting into fights on IM? They can be saved. Which you just know our good friend Justin did. So when I woke up the next morning - fully clothed - I knew I had done something that entirely noble (to put it lightly) and that I owed Justin an apology. So I went up to their place after work Friday night and bestowed unto him a 12-pack of Bass. Ironic, since it was good beer that got me into this whole mess. [Though, having since read the transcript of the convo, I as much as admitted to him I probably owe him far more than a concilatory 12-pack]. So that visit led to even more Cameron and Keeley time. But mostly Cameron throwing a plush cat with a witch's hat at my eye and the witch's hat puncturing my retina. He's precious. #3 - Yesterday, Catfish babysat Cam while Justin and Renee did house room switcheroos. She was originally gonna bring him to the farm to visit Shan-Y and the animals, but that fell through. So she brought him to campus to show the world how cute he was. Then she brought him to Emory Farm so he could have his own pumpkins. Awwwww. Then she brought him to the 7th letter of the alphabet, where I was working. And he played and played and played. Oh lordy did he play. When I got out of work her, Cam, and I went back to my house, ate dinner (which consisted of subs for Kate and me and the constant chanting, but not eating, of "applesauce. applesauce? applesauce!" from Cam. But he was mostly content to sit on the couch next to me, while holding Spider-Man and watching the Eagles lose to the Broncos. I explained to him that T.O. is evil and that despite what his Daddy says, he should listen to his Uncle Zach in matters concerning T.O.'s evilness. Kenichi came in at one point. Which thrilled Cam to death. Can't say Kenichi was too thrilled. They hadn't seen each other since my birthday and Kenichi was in nor hurry for a reunion. But as usual, Cameron behaved the whole time we had him and only bonked me in the head once. Which was my own fault, as I had instituted a rather rough game of "AFLAC duck", where we both just make pretend to be the duck and say "AFLAC" about 147 times. Good times.

The Story of Baby #2, who's really not so much of a baby . . . or a human

So Kenichi and I have been getting along pretty well lately. Which isn't odd. We tend to get along almost always. Something that certainly helped his mood was that my mother delivered about a pound of catnip last week when she met me after I got my teeth extracted. Kenich hadn't ever really shown much interest in catnip before. This was no longer the case. He fucking went koo-koo bananas. No, koo-koo-banana sandwich. That's what he went. I tried to hide it in my sweatshirt and he tried to bite through my shirt to get to it. When I tried to take it away from him he tried to sever my limb. That ol' Kanook. What a card. Howabout some visual aids to better show his addiction?

Yeah. He's fucked whacked out on that shit. I know. Trust me. I was here for it. It's not good to be on painkillers the same time your cat is high as a fucking really high kite. It makes it so very little housework gets done between the two of you. So yeah, now that he was a junkie, he was already eating way too many french fries and turning tricks at the pier. Oh . . . don't worry Kate, that doesn't mean you're a junkie. So the next day after I gave Kenich his stash, I had the day off to recover. He spent the morning inside with me, constantly wanting to know if we could make english muffin pizzas. Honestly, I don't know where he comes up with this shit. We have NEVER had english muffin pizzas together. Maybe Ben used to make them for him . . . I don't know. Anyway, I let him out late morning and he went off to do his crazy cat thing. Which is mostly hanging out under parked cars. He's a smart boy. So later, I'm at the sink and I see him sitting up straight in the middle of the backyard. Which is odd. Since anyone who owns a cat knows their natural position is sprawled out. And I can tell he's playing with something. Mentally cursing him if it's my string collection he got into, I go outside to see what he's got. A chipmunk. A bloody, panting chipmunk. And good lord almighty is Kenichi proud of himself. As a peacock one might say. So he picks it up, and brings it about 10 feet over to me. And lays it down at my feet. The chipmunk fucking splits.

And Kenichi runs after it.

Catches it.

Brings it back to me.

It runs away.

Kenich runs after it.

Catches it.

Brings it back to me.

It runs away.

Kenich runs after it.

Catches it.

Brings it back to me.

This time, it goes to run, and obviously, it's losing blood here, and is increasingly more confused, dives under Kenich's stomach to hide (presumably from . . . me?). Kannerson thinks this is hilarious and just laughs that the chippy is hiding UNDER him. But doesn't hurt him (moreso), just lets him cool out under there. Until the chip wises up and runs for the big tree. Kannerson will have none of that. So he goes and catches him AGAIN. But at the same time catches a leaf too. And he can't decide which one he wants more so he decides to catch them both.

Yeah. Nature's perfect killing machine, Kenichi is. (Yes, yes Hannah, I know, you thought that was The Littlest Little Peeper's claim to fame. It IS. IN SHAWNEE, ILLIONIS! Not Rollinsford. Jeeze.) So he stands there. All buggin' out with his two current preys in his mouth. I ask him if he'll put the chipmunk down so I can get a better shot. Which he commences to do. But we're so close to the tree that the chipmunk books it up the tree as soon as he's free. Honestly, he "booked" it. Kenichi runs up the tree himself until it dawns on him that he's . . . up high in a fucking tree. Which then scares him/pisses him off. So then he just sits in the middle of the tree meowing his head off and staring angrily into the branches waiting for the chipmunk, I don't know, to honor the samuari code I guess and march back into Kenich's mouth. Well he never came back and as Kenichi was walking by me later he mumbled, "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" So yeah. I think he's still kinda mad. At least he's not STILL waiting in the tree.

The Story of Baby #3, who's both human and an actual baby

So last night, as we were watching Baby #1 and football, while Baby #2 stalked angrily around the house looking for more catnip, Peter called me to inform me of the arrival of . . . BABY #3!!!! That's right dudes and dudettes, Baby Evelyn was finally born last night! Titie had been admitted into the hospital Saturday(!) night around midnight and then it was go time. And then wait time. And then go some more time. And then - oh not quite go time. And then, ok, yes, now it's definitely go time! So once Peter called, the Baby Farmer Protocols went into effect! I called all the parties to inform them that the stork had finally made its way to Southeastern New Hampshire. [I was originally supposed to call Ben, but Peter didn't hold me to that one when the time came about] All I know as of right now is that everyone is healthy. Full head of hair on the baby - length and weight weren't yet known when I spoke to Peter. If they're still at the hospital tonight I'm going to go up after work. If not, it'll be Baby Day on Silver Street. Sweetness. I'm quite excited. I can't even imagine what it's like to have a real baby. I just watch other people's babies and take care of a fur covered one of my own. But a real one? That's not a cat? And is half you? I think my brain would explode. But a good explode. Which is probably somewhat what Peter is feeling right now. Congratulations P & T! And E!

It's been real,

Darjeeling

ps - I forgot to tell the story about my summons from the Portsmouth Police Dept. Oh well, it's really not all that exciting anyway. Seriously. It's a pretty borning story.

pps - Oh yes, for all of you that followed through and tried out mySpace? Thanks. You are pretty sweet yourselves.

ppps - I apologize if the title of this entry implied some shenanigans involving Steve Guttenburg, Ted Danson, or Tom Selleck. That said, it IS Halloween and there most likely IS a ghost in this entry! Just like that dead boy ghost in 3 Men And A Baby! See! It all comes back around!

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