May. 3rd, 2005

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Tonight is try number two for fajitas. My body has decreed (via hormones) that I must have fajitas, nothing else will do. Last night there I ordered from Chico and Chang's because I recalled my dad telling me that their chinese food wasn't too bad. I'm sad to report that their fajitas are that bad. In fact, they were the worst fajitas I've ever had in my entire life. It seems like it would be really really hard to fuck up fajitas, but they did. Tonight I'm ordering from one of the two places that Zifty's delivers from who sell fajitas. If it goes badly I can see myself trying for a third night and possibly a fourth (at which point I'd be cooking them at home).

The girls are in the other room playing some imagination based game that involves covering much of the living room in a tent village (made from sheets and blankets), making pb&j's in the kitchen and filling bowls and cups with croutons, Panda Puffs (parent approved organic cereal), and oj, crawling around and pretending to be "in love". Isadora keeps calling Rhiannon 'Sportacus'. Speaking of love, Rhiannon got in trouble at school last week for hugging too much... or hugging the unwilling. She has to ask permission to hug now.

I upgraded to Tiger last night for the sole purpose of having Hula Jesus as a widget. Yup. $130 for Hula Jesus.

Today Rhiannon brought home her stack of the day's artwork. She tends to produce pieces with a common theme. The actual picture might change from day to day, sometimes it's a half dozen paintings of hearts, sometimes stick people, sometimes houses, but almost always somewhere on there is 'I love you mom.' or 'I love you dad. or maybe, 'I love you mom and dad'. Today there were a few that were pared down to 'Mom'.
It's really interesting to watch because Isadora will crank out 20 of the weirdest pictures every day, each one totally different than the one before. She does a lot of people but the context and purpose generally changes. Yesterday she drew her family as suns. None of us had bodies or hair, just great big beams pouring out of our cheeks, chins, and heads. Last week she drew this picture of me, Jeffrey (with 8 eyes, holding a coffee mug and with a levitating lollipop over his head), a picture of 'baby daddy' (mini-Tomas portraits are popular with the girls these days) and a giant bridge that bisected the entire thing in the shape of a huge arrow (she assured me that it was really a bridge).

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