Saturday, September 12, 1998

        Bob left for Minnesota last night at about 10:00. He and another friend were going to drive all night and meet a couple of other guys (who were flying) there. Bob likes to drive; he likes road trips. He loves packing up the car, making lists, picking out music for the trip, packing the cooler. And he likes driving at night. I sort of like riding at night, but of course I always go to sleep, and I like that, too. I don't much like driving at night for any distance. I get sleepy, and that scares me.

        But Bob can drive for twelve hours straight, and I don't think he ever gets sleepy on the road. He called this morning at around 10:00 to say they had just gotten to Ely, and that they had a few more miles to drive, but they had stopped for something and he wanted to call to let me know they'd made it through the night okay. He just called again (9:00 Saturday night) to tell me good night; he said he hadn't slept yet, so he was going to bed.

Later . . . much later

        I spent a couple of hours at my brother's house this afternoon, attending a birthday party for my nephew Kristopher. I didn't know they were going to have a party--they don't always--so I had already mailed him a card with a $5 bill. I used to shop for all the nieces and nephews, try to find out what they wanted, what their favorite toys were, and what they already had. I finally decided that that was entirely too much trouble, and that as they got older they probably appreciated money just as much or more. I know that even now I look forward to getting a five dollar bill in my birthday card from Bob's grandmother. Found money is great no matter how old you are, and no matter how small the amount.

        That's what I tell myself, anyway. I probably really should have gotten something for Kris, and I would have if I had known that I would be out there today. As I walked up to the door, I could hear him telling his friends, "It's Aunt Willa, she's my best friend!" and he met me at the door and asked me if I brought him anything. I told him no, that I had already mailed him a card and some money so he could buy something for himself, and he hugged me and said, "Oh yeah." He got lots of cool toys, a Tommy doll from Rugrats (which he immediately stripped naked), a Rugrats dog (Fido?), a Rugrats flashlight which is one of the kids--you press his stomach and his eyes light up behind his glasses--I want one, too, now--some coloring books and videos and a Koosh ball . . . Tons of fun stuff. I was jealous.

        Maybe tomorrow I'll go toy shopping . . . Actually, I probably won't. I'm pretty much able to resist buying that kind of thing for myself, as much as I love them. I can't seem to resist buying books, though. I bought a stack of them today--a Photoshop tutorial, a book on website design theory, a paperback mystery by Pete Hautman ("Ring Game") and a hardback book called "Like a Hole in the Head," by Jen Banbury. It's a mystery about a missing rare book, but the quirk is that the protagonist, the bookstore clerk who sells the rare first edition and then has to get it back, is a wisecracking young woman with some very weird friends--one of the quotes on the jacket describes it as "Slacker Noir."

        I had been working on a website in the morning and didn't want to stop, but about noon I did stop, took a shower, got dressed and rushed out to Independence to the party, and only really realized as I was driving out there that I hadn't had any lunch. I should have made a sandwich or something to eat on the way, but I didn't think of it, and then it was too late to stop anywhere. So I had a piece of chocolate cake and a muffin. Good, as far as it went.