mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Update on the whole niece situation Well, among other things I do this way, I wrote my diary prematurely last night. And might I add the phrase, "Dammit to hell!" I missed the baby pool by 40 minutes. FORTY friggin' minutes! My sister was having some pretty heavy contractions last night until they gave her the epidural. As soon as she quit feeling the contractions, the baby heart alarms started sounding. Quicker than you can say, "At your cervix, ma'am!" (props to Robin Williams) they had her in surgery, carving her belly like it was a Christmas Ham. At 11:20pm, they pulled out a perfectly healthy baby. I would tell you what the name is, but I am at school and don't have it written down anywhere. I know the middle name is Lyla. And the first name is one I've never heard. So, I will just call her Lyla. My sister calls me Paul. She's the only person I know who calls me Paul. My best friend from High School used to call me Jon. Most of my friends up here call me JP. My grandmother calls me Dumas. She says it is short for "Dumb Ass." I love my granny! (I just realized that I think my grandmother is kewl because she calls me a dumb ass, and I think my Shakespeare teacher is kewl because he flips me off in the middle of class. What would Freud have of these delights?) That was a weird tangent, I know. But it just goes to show that you can be called all kinds of different things and remain the same person. So, if no one else calls her Lyla, she will one day have her own blog and write about her weird uncle who insists on calling her by her "Soooo 2000-ish" middle name. Oh. I'm not at my school. I'm at the university where I found a way to make my Shakespeare class so much easier. Not like it was hard in the first place. But now I can actually read and understand all at the same time. I just listened to some London acting company's "As You Like It" on record. It's been a long time since I listened to a record. I remember going to TG&Y (remember those?) and looking at their racks and racks of records. I distinctly remember looking at Michael Jackson's album, "Bad," and thinking how kewl I would be if I could buy that large, white album with the kewlest man alive on the cover. This was back when everyone thought he was a normal guy. This was back when everyone thought he was a guy. But yes. I remember them having records at all of the stores. Ahhh, the good old days. Having someone read Shakespeare to you is so much better than trying to sit and read it alone. I can understand the characters much better. Nothing funny or quirky about that. Just thought I would tell you. Well, I should run. I have a test to take in about an hour and a half. I was mainly wanting to update you all on my sister's condition, since I know you were all sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation. Sincerely, 2:37 p.m. - Fri., April 19, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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