Cruisers Unite

Before I get into the recap of the cruise I'd like to throw out some old pics for our viewers and some side stories.

As you know, LMA had some weird thing with her leg. She's fine now, mysterious ailment that it was, was probably nothing more than a muscle pull. However, she did feel pain and had enough toddler sense to figure that stickers made her feel good, so they should make her leg feel good. We left out all thought of a bath, seeing as she'd had a traumatic day as it was, so we let her fall asleep on the couch and moved her to her bed later, leaving her "sticker-cast" in place.

We can rebuild her, we have the stickers.

Next on the agenda is the Moon Tower Christmas Tree in Zilker Park. At one point, in the late 1800's, there were several dozen of these Moon Towers; over sized street lights about 5 stories tall. There are only a few left standing in Austin. To commemorate the holiday season, the Zilker Park Moon Tower is strung with lights like a big tree and people gather around and under the lights and have a little party. Nearby, but not open when we went, is the Zilker Park Trail of Lights. It's a big deal and having been here just over 3 years we've only now decided to go. We probably won't hit the trail of lights again this year, we gave it the one shot and they had the nerve not to be open. Well, we'll show 'em.

A Rave does not seperate generations.

The experience was one of medium size city trying to be a small town. There was funnel cake and hot chocolate and some music. There were your token christian school kids singing all the carols that had God and Jesus and Angels in them, which was nice background music. There were a lot of little kids and young at hearts looking up at the spiral of lights from under the "tree" and spinning around making the spiral optical illusion complete, then falling on their butts. LMA made a friend in a little girl and her unusually young mom and they did several rounds of Ring Around the Rosie. A short carraige rider later and we were off.

And finally, LMA has figured out how to take pictures. She can also take them of herself. Yes, we take so many pictures of her and the family that you only have to point a camera at her to get a well rehearsed "Cheese!" The fact that she's taken several pictures that have turned out is shocking and frightening and a little hilarious. As an experiment we gave her a camera and told her to take a picture of the Christmas tree, which she did, after a few dozen takes. Turns out, the self portrait on your right must have been a fluke, but how amazing that she was able to recognize a camera, know where the shutter button was and have the vainity of a supermodel to be drawn to it in the first place. Did I mention she did this when we were sleeping? I'm glad she didn't have the camera pointed elsewhere, morning dude issues and all. Yoiks!

Cheese!!

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Okay, don't forget where we parked.

Now onto the reason why you're all here. To find out how soused I got on our cruise to lovely Cozumel. That is why you're all here right? Ok, well for those who haven't left already after your weekly LMA fix, Mrs. A and I dropped Mrs. Squiggles off at Grandma's house and hit the Gulf. We left Galveston at 5pm Thursday and we in open waters by that evening. The ship was the M/S Celebration on the Carnival cruise lines. M/S stands for Mother Ship, apparently. I would have preferred Flag Ship or The Honorable Vessel or Dingy Extraordinare, actually. Anything but Mother Ship. Trust me, once you see some of the fine folks partaking in this activity, you'll understand why a cultish icon generally uttered in the same breath as Heaven's Gate is not far off.

I digress. The trip was amazing and expected at the same time. There was very little glamour involved, as I thought there might be. I mean, it's a cruise for Pete's Sake, aren't they supposed to be fabulous and full of intrigue and midnight rendevous and tuxes and ball gowns? Ours had some of that. We looked pretty fabulous going to dinner one night, I was intrigued at the amount of liquor I drank, there was a midnight buffet and I do believe the maitre di wore a tux. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time, but it wasn't the cream of the crop that I was bumping elbows with as the sea cast us fore and aft, it was the people I just left at HEB.

So with our expectations dropped from Breakfast at Tiffany's to Slingblade, we proceded to go with the flow and mix it up with the rest of the cruisers. We learned the Cha Cha, played trivia, bought Carnival imprinted souveniers that labeled us severe tools and ate as much buffet as possible. The 24 hour pizza stand was top notch to have around after a day of slamming Long Island Iced Teas. We did get to dress to the 9's and attend an evening dinner. Our waiter was outstanding, even while he and the other staff of varied nations did their best show routine in the middle of the dining hall. At our table was a couple from Oklahoma (boo hiss) and a family from about 10 minutes from our house. No fooling. We're 400 miles in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico and we're sitting with basically neighbors.

So we make it to Cozumel, which is an island off the Yucitan Penninsula, near Cancun and Playa del Carmen. It's only 3% developed and that's almost entirely for tourism. There's a small bit that's an ecology park, but you can tour it so let's say it's ALL tourism. So a big ass boat full of drunk American's pulls up and it's go time for these purveyors of all things tour. First thing we do is find out that while you're pregnant, the only thing you can do on this island is shop and snorkle. Mrs. A was crushed that all the activities didn't have child carrying members in mind, and if you don't like haggling over jewelry and trinkets, you might as well stay on the ship and play Bingo. We did get to snorkle a lot and I did a Sea Trek Helmet Diving thing (which Mrs. A thinks sounds like a gay porn movie.) Afterwards we hit, of all things, a Carlos 'n' Charlies (yeah we have those in Austin) and I drank a YARD of Long Island Iced Tea. Man, after that Mrs. A could have bought the island and I wouldn't have cared.

Head back to the boat and the rest of the day and a half until returning home is a blur of buffet eating, semi interest in ship's events, being a little sea/home/child sick and having our day interrupted by the Saddam thing. Nothing brings you back into reality like a little news from the front. If it wasn't for the fact that the "local" stations were from Nashville and New York, I would have been able to believe I was truly out to sea.

Heck yeah I'd do this again. I'd like to do it when Mrs. A's not preggers so we can both drink and scuba and ride horses and drive jeeps and drink and play with dolphins and drink. Reason I mention drinking so much is that when you're sense are heighted due to child carrying, a sip of alcohol turns into "You're OOZING with BOOZE! Go take a shower!" But we got back safely. LMA missed us but had a good time with her cousins and Grandma.

She's not mad, that's her prepared face.

Had to keep the hat on.

We're both happy there were plenty of lifeboats...and booze.

Mrs. Onasis relaxes in the warm Caribbean winds.

First of many with me and a drink.

Mrs. Ausitn auditioning for the latest Gap ad. Her motivation, "THERE'S NO LAND OUT HERE!!"

Nothing says classy and sassy like a cruise ship robe.

And nothing says truly odd like a towel animal in your room.

"Take the red pill, and I show you just how deep the waters are out here."

We looked this good on The Chairman's birthday, only fitting.

New in time for Christmas from JC Penny.

Beach ball bingo, I lost.

They had vegetarian food on the swank menu. Mrs. A was all smiles.

The answer is 42. (Those of you who know may laugh now.)

Mr. Austin holding a...hmm...sea...thing. Looked like a mini german chocolate cake.

Holding a sea horse. Yes, the water level in my helmet was rising.

I think I saw this scene at the beginning of Perfect Strangers.

I'm tempted to put a shot of NYC in the background and photoshop out the bubbles and mask.

Mrs. Austin has found weapons of mass destruction.

She's got an anchor there, hopefully it wasn't to our ship.

Pancho suddenly realized the gringo sheriff was piss drunk.

Probably because I drank THIS!

Hello? (hello?) Echo! (echo!)

No Beard, the Terror of the Touristy Shops, and that pirate standing next to her.

New thing, pics of me with fruity drinks and that fly shirt. Line up ladies.

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"The lo-ove boat. Soon we'll be making another run. The love boat..."

Yes, yes. Mrs. Austin and I are on a lovely cruise to the paradise island of Cozumel in the Mexican Caribbean. It's been quite a trip. As I type this we're heading back to Beautifully Mediocre Galveston to end the 4 day cruise. Lil Miss Austin is staying with Grandma and hopefully having tons of fun herself playing with her cousins.

Internet costs are huge on board a ship (all that wireless crap costing about as much per minute as the drinks, of which I've had mine AND Mrs. Austin's share) so I must cut this short.

Expect pictures and what not in a few days.

Ciao!

Next season's West Wing has Special Aid to the Democratic Minority Leader, Mrs. Austin, confronting the Republican lead Congress on the issue of Redistricting.

Rest assured, dear reader, LMA is doing fine. Sorry to keep you in the dark for days upon restless, eternal days, but physically there wasn't anything the medical professionals could pin point. The tried and true methodology that is Wait-n-See has proved again to be the mighty sword of ambiguity that has solved our pained questions with a definitive "Huh?"

The tests they took came back negative and after another day of favoring it, she was back to her old hyper jumpy self. The whole thing is a memory at this point. No body knows what it was either; pulled muscle, sprained/strained/twisted knee, end of a virus that caused some joint aching, who knows.

So we set up the Christmas/Yule tree last night. Well, we partially set it up. We started around 6:30 and had to deal with a bath, a headache and dinner at the same time, so the tree with lights was done by about 9:00.

I'll tell you what, as much as I like the idea of setting up holiday decorations, the actual act of putting up the tree makes me crazy. I turn into everyone's dad. I get grumpy and short and loud. No one helps the way I want them to so they might as well not help, but you can bet your ass I'll make them feel guilty about not helping. "I had to set up this whole dang tree myself, thank you!" I'm such a Nazi when it comes to lights and stuff, but I'm seeing someone for help now. It's getting ok.

Seriously, it wasn't bad and the tree looks ok with the lights off. LMA calls it the Santa Tree, which is fine with Mrs. Austin and myself, avoids the Yule vs. Chirstmas debate. And MAN does her face light up when she sees it. She came out this morning and got all bent outta shape because Santa himself wasn't sitting on the couch waiting for us. "Ohhh, Santa's not here. Where's Santa?" Looks like our next purchase is a calendar.

Some killer news from Mrs. Austin. As you know she's been going to school to get her psych degree and her first class is Texas History. The professor has ties to the legislature in some capacity and is so impressed with Mrs. A's love for all things Texas and most things Governing, he suggested her for an internship with the next session of the Texas Congress in 2005. Pretty cool stuff. It's not the West Wing, but I'm sure she'll love it.

With this in mind, I'll be setting up a paypal account going to a donation site for when she runs for President. It'll be used to pay bills in the mean time, but consider it a political contribution. ;)

Yes, yes, need to get more pics up.

As most of you may have heard, LMA is having some issues. The little monster has a limp.

I picked her up from school Monday and as she ran towards me, like she usually does (one of the high points of my day) she came up short, her right leg gave out on her, she grabbed her knee and started to cry. It wasn't a full blown wailing cry, but enough that I knew something was wrong. LMA is such an active, playful, energetic kid that this was like TNT in my heart. Instantly I began to think about leg braces and years upon years of medications and treatments that would turn her into a walking zombie, the little fire that is her life force snuffed.

I'm sure I'm over reacting, but I'm not the only one.

So we iced her knee at home and she couched for the evening, standing and jumping long enough to show Mrs. Austin the problem. You could tell it wasn't just a bump as she would wince and her leg would give every time she tried to step up or push off with that right leg. We called the doctor and were told to make an appointment for the next day.

10:15 the next day we hit the sick kids wing of the Pediatrician's office. After almost a 90 minute wait, and a 5 min visit from the doctor, we walked across the way to get an x-ray of her little knee and lower leg. If you thought toddler's legs were small before, image them sitting on an x-ray table while you envision how small those bones inside must be. She suddenly became this creature made of blown glass and wishes. We also pushed for some blood work as well, not wanting to wait it out. Both the x-ray and blood work came back negative, but that doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet. The next step is Motrine off and on for pain for a week and see if it goes away. The doctor thinks it's the end of a virus, she had a fever a week ago and it may be that the bug is in it's final throws of life. After that, if it's still not better, they want to check for jeuvenille arthritis, but that's 3 month's worth of persistant symptoms before a diagnosis. Three months of little 14 inch legs limping around.

Of course the internet has been especially helpful and dreadful in its myriad sites of research on the subject of toddler limping and as you can see, we're all over the place with paranoia and fear. At this point I'm hoping for a hairline fracture that x-ray didn't pick up over, say, septic arthritis or an absess forming on the spince or Legg-Perthes-Calve disease.

One thing the doctors haven't done is say, "Well, it's not this or that or the other thing" which is what parents are looking for. Shoot, any patient wants to hear some things ruled out in their favor. To quote George Castanza, "Cancer? Get outta here!!" I know the medical professionals are just doing their job by running tests and eliminating things, but give the parents some update, some progress report. What are you looking for? What are some causes? What do you suspect?

Ugh.

Meanwhile LMA and Mrs. A are at home buidling blocks. She's been cleared to go back to school on a supervised basis. For a 2 year old, that's a rough deal. Not much more to life than running around the sand pit and playground. Take that away and you're left eating and trying not to wet yourself.

So we're in a wait and see mode now. We're scared of course. Both families have been real nice. Yesterday I made the comment to Mrs. Austin how I felt I was the only one not over reacting to the situation. It's ironic that I'm the one online most of the time looking to compare symptoms to bacterial meningitis.

Will keep you posted.

Dallas Con.

Mr. Austin here. Went to the Wizard Universe Texas Convention in Arlington, TX last Saturday. Boy oh boy am I glad I showered.

Let's face it, I'm a geek. I like Star Wars and Lego and comic books and movies about all of the above, but I will admit that I in no way consider myself a Fan Boy. You might ask, what is a Fan Boy? You might also ask for your 5 minutes back when you're done reading this. You might also ask for pie. To me a Fan Boy is a human being that lives, eats and breaths comic books. They know all about each and every creator under the sun, they know all the story lines, they know all the histories, and they are intimately aware of all news and events surrounding comics.

Most genres of entertainment have similar creatures. Groupies, buffs, 'heads, stalkers. Call 'em what you like, for comics it's Fan Boys.

The main difference between myself and an average FB is I posses some measure of talent. Not to say all FBs are talentless hacks or wannabes trying to schmooze up to any and all creative geniuses they ever meet. Well, yeah that's exactly what I'm saying. I know most artists and writers have had inspiration and a reason that they got into the field, but I've never heard of a true Fan Boy making it big. Likewise I've heard of very few movie critics that have made feature films.

The other difference is that for the most part I just don't care who did what on which issue. I'd like to be entertained by the story, but that's about where my loyalties end. I could really care less some times about the guy inking for Green Arrow or the guy who took over on a back up story of Batman because the main guy had a heart attack or whatever. I mean, there are characters I like, and books I've read that I was blown away by the story telling or art or something, but my life just doesn't end there.

I guess it's different for everyone. I don't mean to harp on the guys and girls who read religiously and follow their favorites and go to cons to get signatures and sketches and press the flesh with the almighties. I wandered around Arlington Convention Center in a daze. I wasn't with anyone for most of the time, and I didn't have any plans other than get a few sketches from the people I knew from Penciljack, so my time was spent searching for books that were recently out, something I never found. I shook hands with and got a signature fromPeter Mayhew, very nice guy, and got a Ray #1 and #2 signed by Joe Q. That's about the extent of my Who's Who.

So you can imagine how humbling it is to come home to a wife who wants to be involved in what I do, but is finding it harder and harder to give two craps about it. All she wanted was to put a sink in, not listen to me go on and on about how Noah Hathaway was in a car wreck and couldn't be there to sign autographs. I don't consider myself a Fan Boy, but I'm sure others would.

So while I was considering leaving early because, frankly, I had no business being there, I realized that no matter how cool I thought I was, or how dorky I thought everyone else was, I paid my $20 to get in. I stood in line for an autograph of an E&C. I seriously considered buying loads and loads of books and figures and toys and shirts and art. So while I can actually claim some Fan Boy Holy Grails such as having sex or owning a home or getting paid pretty decently, I can't claim I'm 100% removed from that life, because like it or not, I made the choice to be part of it. I can either embrace it, or get rid of my pencils altogether.

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Completely unrelated note, Mrs. Austin and Little Mystery (as we'll refer to the latest offspring until such time as they reveal themselves to us) are doing fine. Yes there's the typical uncomfortableness and irritability that can only be found when a woman is with child, but Mrs. A is handling it with aplomb. She IS a little worried, though, I mean, look at the size of this kid. Keep in mind this is 3 months.



Kid is laying on it's back sucking it's thumb, probably. If they're anything like LMA, they're picking their nose. But you can see the head, body, toes, elbow. There's a video of the sonogram where you can see the heart beating very strong. Reason we're worried is right now the kid is more than twice LMA's size at the same time. I hope for Mrs. Austin's sake this isn't a large child.

That's all.

And for those requesting New York pictures, you can email us if you want to get copies, but trust me, it's nothing spectacular. Bunch of buildings at night, mostly out of focus. Probably better off watching Letterman or doing a stock photo search of Midtown.

Ciao.

Sorry folks, had to take down the movie. It was just chewing up space on my site.

Will update more later.

17mb - 2mins 10 sec on 10mb/s DSL

Little experiment, we've got a little movie of Lil Miss Austin. Hope it works. It's pretty funny. I don't have a lot of web space so these might get rotated in and out rather than stuck up here ad nauseum.

Anyway, nothing new.

You ever have one of those weeks when you feel like Charlie Brown? Basically a blockhead? You forget things, you lose things, you break things. Doesn't matter how hard you try to remember, take care or be nice, the universe has deemed it your turn to wear the big floopy shoes and pointy hat.

Look ma, no brain

Lately not only have I felt like Chuck right after Lucy pulls the ball away, but I've also felt like my parenting skills are lacking. Lil Miss Austin has become a No Factory as of late and is maxing my abilities to cope effectively without resorting to corporeal measures. I can feel my grip on any situation slipping with every sass or refusal or outburst. Anymore our interaction has become the game Taboo, where I can only say certain things in order for her to respond, but each time those things change. What worked yesterday, won't work today or tomorrow. A year ago I could get away with getting her to go to bed or eat her food by using the same tactics again and again. Now she's become a flu virus and adapted beyond my abilities to synthesize a new vaccine. She knows my tricks and has started to develop tricks of her own, forcing my brain to fire and fire and fire until the synapses are blown and I'm left a crazed idiot using the almighty Time Out trump card.

Which is NOT how I envisioned how this little life would be treated. It makes my heart hurt to always say negative things. No. Get off that. Don't jump. Put that down. Go back to bed. Be quiet. I wish I could slow down and not let her crying and shouting short out the fragile parenting circuits while I think of positive and creative ways to help her become a good, loving person AND keep the house peaceful and orderly.

I didn't expect to play this role, the role of the bad guy, the disciplinarian. Not that Mrs. Austin has it any better. LMA throws things and bites and punches with all she's worth sometimes, and I'm not always the target. Lately, though, I feel like I'm the one who's putting the foot down, while Mrs. Austin is the one providing the love and affection and understanding. Her near limitless patience taxes my imagination and only adds to my fear that I'm not a good parent.

Add that to all the normal adult crap one usually goes through during a slump of brain activity, and you start to feel you're a video camera away from having CPS knocking on your door. LMA is a great kid and her capacity to learn and grow is just amazing to me. Within two years time, she's had to cram in learning how to effectively make me look like a gibbering baboon and at the same time learn our language, customes and gross and fine motor skills. If I had a 2 year old's capacity for adapting, I'd be, at the very least, doing better at my job.

The Matrix Lost You

I hope the rest of you don't see this because, well, it wasn't great. I wasn't HORRIBLE, but it was a giant let down. There's no way it could have pleased everyone, and I've heard there have been folks silently praising this as a decent film, or at least entertaining.

***SPOILERS BELOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!***

First off, the Neo as the Christ figure was an ok story line, as long as it wasn't handed down with the subtlety of Sherman tank. The Wachowski brothers are very religious or at least very heavy into spiritualism and it shows in their movies, dripping and oozing with imagery and subtext. I was fairly certain at some point a chorus of Hosannas was about to break out above the industrial pounding.

I can complain all I want about this trilogy, but I'd be swimming in hypocrisy. I liked the story, I liked the fight scenes, I liked the special effects. The problem is, I liked them in Star Wars and Alien and Lord of the Rings. Yes Matrix changed the way films are made, but it was the first movie that did it. These latest installments are just so much after thought. There was an attempt to answer at least some of the questions, but to answer a question with a question is not an answer, it's a crappy way to get seven more dollars out of Drool Q. Public. Any movie that lists a character called Deus Ex Machina is just begging to upset people. I left no closer to understanding the story line then when I walked in.

That is however until I was able to process the film a bit, let it stew around in my head for a little while as bits of all 3 movies fell into place. I played a little of the Spaz-tacular Enter The Matrix game, hoping to glean a little more of the continuity, but it was SO bad I didn't play past the first few levels. Even most of the Animatrix was weird and goofy enough not to be bothered with. This leads me to think that the first film was SO cool and such a good idea, but it could have stood ALONE, by itself, for all time. There didn't need to be a sequel, did there? Was there a need to have it all wrapped up? They explained it to us. War between man and machine, the Matrix is a program, Neo's there to get rid of it. Leaving us with him destroying Agent Smith was good enough for me, good way to end it. But no, now we have to live through Zion Dance Party, The Death of Trinity, 150 Tons of Metal and Shell Casings, Blind Neo, and some of the worst writing, acting and directing I've seen outside of high school. A friend commented that Matrix: Revolutions was like watching Blade Runner, Superman and Dallas all rolled into one meaningless story and given to a couple of fan boys with an unlimited budget.

Now I don't want to totally down this movie, there were high points. Ian Bliss was great as Bane, Jada Pinkett Smith I could watch in anything, there's something stoic, sexy and urban about her. She had some crap lines to deliver. I liked seeing all the horror of the machine's final invasion of Zion and seeing the mountain defense around the machine city as Neo and Trinity approached. Sati and her family were good and their scenes were pretty well done, if not long. That was the main problem I think, is that most if not all the scenes in the movie went on WAY too long. Maybe the movie was ghost directed by Lorne Green and he's trying to make an SNL move towards totally blowing a good concept by beating his audience over the head with more words and lines than we really need. Does Trinity have to babble so much when she's dying? She sounded like 5 year old getting home from her first day of school and having so much to tell you just tune it out after a while. There were actually giggles in the theater while she was doing her Hamlet audition.

They handled Gloria Foster's death as well as could be expected. Some thrown in story about them needing to sell her "shell" so the last exile could be freed, but then she got another shell. It seemed over looked as it was a big part of the story in the end, but something that may not have needed telling had she not died.

A couple more high points. One, the preview for Troy starring Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom and Eric Bana. The preview looked SO cool, if you can find it, watch it. It was stellar.

The other high point, for the first time in my life I was first in line for a movie. I got there 2 hours ahead of time, which for Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or Spidey or X-Men it would have been too late by then. So with a bafflement I can only assume was the result of years of inhaling faux butter fumes, the ticket attendant said they weren't making a line yet. 30 mins later when I asked again he said go ahead and I took my place, the only place, at the head of what was to be a fairly long line. What was funny about this, was the ticket guy and I spoke at least 3, 4 maybe 5 times. On the last time we talked, I had gone outside to find some friends and was coming back in, at this point he ripped my ticket and told me where the line was forming. I was sitting 10 feet from him for 60 minutes and talked to him repeatedly about where the line was.

I'd love to go off on this longer, but arguing how much of a dork the guy was as I'm relishing my being first in line for a movie is a little two faced. Let's just say it was my first, and it was a good feeling as I walked into the theater slowly, knowing that my pace dictated the pace of all behind me and I was in fact able to pick, out of all the seats, which was to be mine.

It was a fine day. Then the movie started.

All Hallow's Eve

Remember Halloween? Remember being a kid and the unbridled thrill you could feel creeping into your bones as you applied copious amounts of make up and donned yarn wigs and thing colorful material. Remember putting up with the fact that you couldn't breath through the mask because you knew the mask made you look cool? Remember the sugar starved insanity that preceded dumping a bag of candy onto the floor, sifting it through the haul like a gold-digger looking for flakes, weeding out the good candy from the crap trinkets?

Yeah me too.

I also remember carving pumpkins and watching Peanuts on CBS and football games and raking leaves and the light going out early and the weather being on the cusp of winter, nipping at your heels as your tennis shoes, which didn't match your costume, mounted assault after spirit of the dusk assault on lighted porches and driveways. It's a magical time of year for me, one of which I never forget and always look forward to, but one that I never plan for until about 3 days before the event. There's no commercialism in it for me, there's only the deepening of the sky and the chill on the air and the smell of apples and cinnamon and burning pumpkin guts. What this translates to is an almost obsessive desire to see Lil Miss Austin dressed up in something cute. Yeah, I'd like her to have the most creative costume, or the most endearing, but when she sees the costume at the store and goes into toddler bliss, who am I to argue?

Yeah I think it's a bit different now then when I was a kid. I had a mom that was pretty skilled in the area of, how shall I say, Seemsteric Creation. I had a clown outfit as a standby for a good couple years just in case my Tron costume didn't pan out. And while I constantly tell people about my infamous Mystic costume from the Dark Crystal as they politely go inside their own heads and scream at me that they've heard it before, I haven't considered creating a costume for LMA. There was talk of the three of us dressing up as Lego pieces, then the Ragedy's (Anne, Andy and, hmm, is there a third?) but in the end, $20 at Target did in a pinch. Next year. Right? Next year she'll be a beautiful butterfly with home made wings and teased up hair and sparkly make up. Next year she'll be Kyra the Gelfing and I'll reprise the Mystic role. Next year Mrs. Austin and I will dig out our M&M outfits and make a Mini M&M outfit for her. Next year. Promise.




ooOOooo, the ghost is so scary!!




Don't get near me clown, I'm mischievous as all get out and I WILL take your bubbles.




A bumblebee on the edge! Look at that barely contained excitement. Anymore sugar and she'll explode.




Mrs. Austin let's me play with knives. Lil Miss Austin was there to supervise.




"That's right honey, get the whole arm in there. It's not Halloween until you're covered in orange slime."




Not so ghoulish after all, well done kiddo.


I keep saying, Halloween, when in fact only 1/3 of our household celebrates Halloween. That minority is I. The women of the house celebrate Samhain, the Last Harvest, the darkening of the days before the god is reborn. It's yet another holiday that all good Christians celebrate that has its roots firmly founded in more ancient beliefs. It's ironic; Samhain is all about reflection and recognizing that the end of the light is coming, but with a strong belief that the light will come again. It's in no way evil or satanic or even spooky. The fact that Christianity has both adopted this as All Hallows Eve and bastardized it's meaning is quite extraordinary. It's like ignoring a family member for most of their life, then towards the end creating an imaginary friend in their likeness that you tell people you hate. It makes no sense. Ah well, with Resurrections being portrayed as Chocolate Eggs, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

At any rate, regardless of what you call it, it still seems ok to go out and basically beg for candy from strangers, which I find mind blowing. As a kid you don't catch the subtle hypocrisy of "Don't take candy from strangers, except for this one day and you have to ask them for it while dressed up all funny." I haven't worked out if Trick or Treating is cool on Samhain, but I will say this, I had to do a lot more Tricks when I was a kid. Between having to tell jokes or sing songs, it's a wonder I got any flippin candy at the end of the night. I think next year I'm also going to put a sign up, or carve it into a pumpkin on the porch. "No costume, no candy. And some face paint doesn't a costume make." There's no effort there, grab a pillowcase and bum rush all the little kids in costume at a doorway, not even saying Trick or Treat. They just hold their bags out like if I don't give them candy they're gonna tell on me. Man, kids today. (Yeah screw you I'm old.)

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Random Pictures





Fresh off her role as Ms. Nora Dinsmoor, the starlet takes time for a photo op.




Uhhhh...I hope I can retrieve all Daddy's files before he gets back.

Big Ass Apple

Holy crap I'm in New York. And not just New York, Midtown Manhattan, Times Square baby! My company decided they needed more people up in NY for some testing so they were very kind in appropriating the funds to fly and house me in the city that never sleeps.

I'M IN NEW YORK, MAN!

For those that have never been, let me start off by saying, you just have no idea. It's so big and so loud and so alive. I don't care where you're from, you will just overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. (With apologies for those random readers from Tokyo, maybe).

Coming from Texas, big means spread out over several, sometimes, dozens of miles. Yeah there's 4 million people in Houston, but Houston has the same area as Rhode Island. (Don't check on that, I'm pretty sure it's poetic license.) Meanwhile you have twice, three times that number living or working in an area 5 miles wide and 15 miles long. Just unimaginable. There's no grass, no dirt, no trees. It's just concrete and steel and people. Ok, well you get the idea, it's big. Moving on.

I haven't been able to do a whole lot, my job's kept me pretty busy, but in just wondering around you see things that for someone's whole life, sometimes, you only see in movies or TV. Studio 1A, Radio City Music Hall, Time Life Building, Hello Deli, the CBS Studios, the Ed Sullivan Theater, Rockefeller Plaza. This is all within 10 blocks. I haven't even been to the ESB or Ground Zero/Freedom Tower site, or up to Central Park, or the Met, or Yankee Stadium, or the Garden, or the Statue of Liberty, or the, or the...

I'm here 4 days, two of which are spent traveling, so to try to cram everything in would be foolish, so what do I do instead? That's right, try to fit in. I don't have the time to catch a train to see the Museums up on the West Side or down to Battery Park. You'd need a two week vacation just to see the famous things in Midtown. Easier for me to blend, do my job, appreciate that I'm here, geek out internally, and go home to my family. I'll be back.

So to fit in you can't take pictures, you have to have an umbrella and you have to walk very fast. No one stands here, and if they do they are a doorman, a moving guy or mentally unstable and directionless. My friend I met for drinks said she found me because I was the only one standing still. Pretty sad. There are also no traffic rules that apply in the known universe. Lanes are not strict, they're for decoration. Drivers have a third arm that lingers on their horn, but not in a road rage type way, more like a car saying, "Pardon me" or "Come on that's yellow." Your head has to be on a swivel here, and you always have to be moving. If you stop, you have to pull over (on the sidewalk) and find a doorway. If you stop in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoe, well then you die. It's that simple.

Oh, and everything here is priced like the island consists of Maharajas and Texan Oil Tycoons. Pack of smokes? 8 bucks. Heineken? $5. #4 breakfast at McDs? 6 bucks. The umbrella I bought was less than a pack of cigarettes. And people don't MAKE more here, and with living here the way it is, they eat out more too. So how do they do it? I'm thinking lots of crack and or Hawaiian goof balls. I know Austin isn't that pricey and I know people are making ends meet, but only just. How one could survive with the same pay, but higher rent, higher food prices and constant use of public transportation just boggles the mind.

Anyway, cutting this short because I'll write more when I get back, and include pictures.

Ciao.

Life In Austin: Episode II

For those who didn't get blanketed with emails, Mrs. Austin and I are expecting our 2nd child. We found out a couple days ago, Mrs. Austin is 8 1/2 weeks along. The due date predicted is June 5th of next year.



JUNE 5th! That's like (Nov, Dec, Jan...) not very long from now!

I don't know what the protocol is for telling people, whether you have to wait 2 months or 5 months or just introduce the kid at parties, but we decided that the shock we were in was really prohibiting us from keeping a secret any better than the White House.

And it's Shock and Awe, I tells ya. Nothing like going into the Doc to check on a cold and he tells you you're pregnant. It's like saying "Pinch me, I'm dreaming" only to have 5 people punch you in the gut. We were absolutely sideswiped with this news, it coming on the heels of a LONG summer discussion on how having LMA around was good enough for us for a little while longer. We had thought of having more kids, at most one more, so LMA could have a sibling, but our current life was really getting good. We were taking small vacations and going back to school and following dreams, all the while still being able to pay the bills. LMA was 90% potty trained, and becoming quite self sufficient. It was pretty groovy.

Now before you send me hate mail about not loving #2, that's not what I'm saying at all. No one plans on getting pregnant the way you plan to see a movie. It can take months, years, and even then you question whether you can handle it or not. Overwhelmed would be a better word, but overwhelmed with caveats.

Second time around we don't have to worry about labor pains and if it's time to go. We'll know how to deal with diapers, teething, sleeping patterns, how to feed, how to nurse, how to do all things Baby. LMA was a learning experience, and I'm sure was a bit coddled and overly protected. #2 will be less so, just by nature. I'm pretty sure we won't be dangling them out a balcony window in front of the paparazzi, but we'll be a little more lax in our, how shall I say, neurotica protectiva.

Plus, the 2nd will have the benefit of having a play partner. LMA is going to be a great big sister. She's fun, sweet, happy. She always wants to help and wants to play. I'm sure there will be normal regression for her and (write this date down) I vow to not over look her needs or place either child's needs above the other. LMA is going to need extra attention, almost forced, because most of our focus is going to be on keeping #2 from rolling off the bed, sleeping on their face, feeding, etc.

It's going to be so much fun, though. Mrs. Austin is a great mommy and she's said I've been a good dad, so who's to say this is going to be anything but a wonderful romp through family life. She'll have cousins, grandparents, probably great grandparents. I think it will be really groovy.

Mrs. Austin will still be going to school, I'll still be drawing, we won't lose who we are, just be making more people that look like us.

LMA and Mrs. A taming the wild bayou critter.


It's been a few days hasn't it? I'm sure you've got a lot done in that time. 10 days, that's enough time to wait for two handguns in the US.

So what else. Red Sox forced a game 6, Cubbies got knocked out in game 7. Avs lost to St. Louis but beat Chicago. Tonight they play the Wild, vengence shall be theirs. And it shall be good. It shall run down the mountain and smite its enemies like a crazed avalanche. UT got SERVED by OU. Wasn't even a game. I think St. Mary's School of the Deaf and Blind would have done better.

I'd like to mention that I love my wife. She's been great lately and just loving school.

LMA is getting more and more lippy and self aware as the days go on. Picking her up from school each day is like going to the airport with a car service sign, you never really know who you'll get, it's new and exciting. Well, it's new, exciting depends on whether or not I have snacks with me. If I don't, it's just new and loud.

Speaking of Loud, the family went to Conroe this weekend to partake in a two fold celebration of Texas size magnitude. First off was the birthday celebration of, count 'em, 4 of Mrs. Austin's family. Two kids, two adults. I can't describe to you with words the din that is associated with so many children in one room. Since I've moved here, 4 children have been born. When they all get together it's like those movies about family get togethers on Christmas or Thanksgiving where there is noise and laughter and wrapping paper flying and shouting and crying and running. No punch line there, it's exactly like that. I came from a family that was a little more somber and relaxed, although I didn't know it at the time. So to be thrust into what I can only call vainly controlled chaos takes a lot of deep breathing and frequent smoke breaks. What's amazing is everyone behaves, everyone is generally happy and if there are problems, they aren't brought up in front of everyone. It's kinda groovy.

With the majority of kids staying back at the homefront, a group of us head out to the Conroe Catfish Festival. If you've ever been to a street festival you know what this is; arts and crafts, food on a stick, beer bought by coupon (ah the American dream) and music. We again were able to see our favorite live band Los Lonely Boys and a few of us got to ride a mechanical bull.

You heard me.

No this isn't Urban/Rhinestone/Midnight Cowboy or whatever movie that was in. There was no Travolta, no dimly lit bar and very few cowboy boots. (There is a movie clip of us on the faux beast, but gimme a while to figure out the web stuff for that.) Of the three of us that rode, it was hard to tell who was the better. No one stayed on for more that 3-4 seconds, and a couple of us had problems getting on, but no problem falling off. LMA got to ride for a second or two, the operator was very nice and didn't try to throw her.

I'm sure my Colorado parents are so proud of me.

It's actually harder than it looks, most of the "holding on" as it were, is done with your legs clamped down on the bull leaving your groin muscles to ache for some time. Unless your Mrs. Austin's brother, in which case only your pride is hurt.

Seguay.

I know I'm getting older. Everyone is. But I finally felt a bit OLD today. I was talking with Mrs. Austin's brother on a smoke break and we both decided that music videos are for kids. Think about it, do you watch music videos? You do? How old are you? I haven't watched MTV since they stopped playing videos and I haven't watched VH1 since I realized there was better TV and other things to do. I can imagine, with great detail and richness of color, a world without music videos. Musicians are in music because they are musicians. If they are worried about their looks, chances are they aren't very good musicians and I don't listen to them. Anyone think Janice Joplin was hottie? How about John Popper? Lyle Lovett? Yeah Britteny Spears is every 18-48 year old male's guilty fantasy, but is she a good singer? Maybe. Can she play an instrument? Don't know, never seen her. Why then do I care to watch her music videos?

The industry as a whole baffels me. Somewhere, sometime in the late 70's, someone decided that just hearing music wasn't enough. They had to see it. So after the entertainment venue failure of laser shows was exhausted, they turned to broadcasting short bits of drama or assembled concert footage along with the song or performance.

Anyone ask for this? Anyone say, "You know, I like the Cars, but what would make my enjoyment jump that last bit would be to see Rick Ocasek as a fly on a bar of soap." I didn't think so.

So this begs the question, or maybe it doesn't, depending on how much free time you have. If this trend is so popular as to require its own award show, what does that say about others in the performance art industry? Does anyone want to see how well a comedian can weld or assemble a killing machine from mere junk? How many ballet dancers are also excellent chefs, I think they should have an entire station devoted to finding out.

Yes, yes. It's a ramble. It's what happens when the days of writing test scripts at work start to wear thin the small membrane seperating your brain from the rest of you that gives a crap.

Like carnies, but with better weapons.

The Austin family's gone medieval! That's right, it's that time of year again. The Texas Renaissance Festival opened this past weekend and we were again part of the madness in all its turkey-legged, period costumed glory. Both Mrs. Austin and I worked the fair in the past, her in Texas, myself in Colorado. We both have fond memories of the fair, how it changed our lives and how it changed our viewpoint on life.

This, however, was the first time I'd been camping at the fair. When I worked the Larkspur, CO fair, the partner I had wasn't about to camp and get all dirtied up, so we drove there and back each day. Mrs. Austin had camped in "Toon Town", as the employee camping area is commonly known, but never in the patrons area. So we were to meet another family there and camp together on Friday, then hit the fair the next day. We arrive around 9pm on Friday and set up camp with 2000 of our closest friends, most drunk, probably high, and all Rennies. Wow. I wouldn't say it was Sodom and Gomorra, but I didn't go near the Fire Pit. We proceeded to set up our little world with tents and lanterns and chairs and alcohol, put the kids to bed, drank and then tried to sleep.

We were awaken twice all night. Once by the retired dude who decided it was cool to play Shania Twaine at 3 am as loud as possible until Mrs. Austin shouted at him, "For the love of God, turn that shit off!" Then again around 5-6am by a group of drunkards who'd split up looking for their camp site and decided to stay abreast of each other's progress by shouting their locations to each other in poetic, yet still annoying, fashion. When the train rolled past around 6:30, we knew it was time to wake up to the dewy chill of Plantersville and get ready.

So, a camp like breakfast and some mild morning traditions later, we made our way to the front gate. We tried to hang with the other family for a time, but keeping a group of 4 adults and 3 kids together in what ended up being a 28,000 person fair was just too much. How we found them twice again during the day was an exercise in celestial odds. After about 4 uneventful hours, we decided we'd had enough. It wasn't that we had a bad time, just that we didn't have a time at all. The camping was fun, but the actual festivities saw us aimlessly walking around, not wanting to see any shows, not wanting to shop or eat much. LMA was perfectly behaved for the most part. I think in this instance, the lack of sleep really wore on us.

So we did what most tired people do, head the exact opposite way from home. We made a pit stop in Conroe to drop off an item for Mrs. Austin's aunt, had lunch, and got a hotel. Man I love hotels after a day of walking around in dirt and sweat. It was the last room in the place, thanks to the overpowering numbers of rennies and fans. We bought some ice cream, Doritos, cokes and milk and just vegged for a few hours before getting what amounted to 10 hours of sleeping. Fully rested, the next day was killed by trying to decide on how best to further exhaust ourselves. There was talk of Galveston, the Zoo, the Butterfly place or just going home. We hit the Outlet Mall north of town, another shop and lunch, then back home.

I will say this. I love camping. We went a lot when I was a kid, and I am very nostalgic toward the smell of camp fires, the taste of Dinty Moore stew, and the chill of crack of dawn breakfasts. Now as an adult, I can also enjoy the warm stupor of liquor to boot. There's something peaceful about entering an environment, making it your own, then leaving it exactly as you found it the next day. I hope we do more.

I also hope I can fill out my costume a little more. For some reason I chose a Scottish get up, although I don't think there's much Scot in my family history. I think I did it because I knew I'd get a sword to go with it and man aren't lowland broadswords just the coolest?

Oh yeah, some more cutie pics.

Notes from the Peanut Gallery

Mrs. Austin here. I just wanted to take a moment to let you all know what horrible parents we are. Lil Miss Austin has, on various repetitive occasion, been known to poop in her "night time panties" in bed. These are pull ups so there's no real harm done other than we have to change her and she still isn't asleep at 10:30 at night. We've been very clear with her that you don't poop in your night time panties. She knows that she is supposed to poop in the "big potty". I think maybe we were a little too clear on this.

Last night she walked into the living room (west wing interrupts) with a handful of poo. Yes, you hear me. A hand FULL of poo. But she didn't poop in her panties. That's right folks. She put her hands in her pants, pooped, and then brought it to us.

"See, Mommy-Daddy? I didn't poop in my night time panties!"

God.

Highs and lows, man. Highs and lows. Lil Miss Austin is to the point where you can almost understand her, even if you don't live with her. Words like "dangerous" are starting to be clear now. She's also decided to start using inclusives like "we" and "us." It's something of a gradual step, because while I still think it's parrot like repetativeness that leads her to these vocal improvements slash cognitive leaps slash quasi adult communication skills, it's starting to become more and more her own thoughts and actions rather than just repeating what she's heard. I came to a realization recently that she's already reading letters, and soon she'll be putting words and sounds together, not even realizing what a huge step that is. She'll be reading cat, not exactly knowing that she's reading a word that she's already known for years. It almost seems backwards to the adult mind, doesn't it? I'm going talk about something I don't know anything about, and then go learn all about it. Well, I guess if you work in marketing that's how it's run.

So we think it's a big deal. She now wants to do things together, or follow us, or "we can do it". It's no longer about her. The I has been replaced with TEAM. It makes it seem like she's finally figuring out that even though she's a left handed shot, she's still better off on right wing; now part of the family, inclusive.

I'm guessing now that because she's been having all these great mental accomplishments, her brain is working overtime. Which would explain why she's NOT SLEEPING! Holy Pot of Coffee Batman, this kid hates going to bed and hates getting up. While she's getting some verbal skills, she still has a long way to go for temporal reasoning. "If you go to bed when we tell you, you won't be crabby the next morning." Yeah, good luck with that until she's 28 and can truly appreciate a good nap. She doesn't sleep at school or at home. She only naps on long car rides and the last couple weeks has been like a horror movie each morning. She cries herself to sleep and cries as soon as her eyes open. It makes for fun car rides to school.

I can't really fault her, I've got shoes that are older than her, so it's not like she's got any idea what's going on. But man I feel bad about her not getting sleep. She has to be at school at 7:30 so I can get to work on time, and then she's there till 5:30 so I can stay at work till 5. Then it's a flury of activity in the evening right before she's shoveled into bed, story, bath, dinner or not. Ugh, poor kid. I'm seriously hoping my company adopts a more European work week so I can knock down some of my hours. Of course, we could always wait for Mrs. Austin to gain financial independence allowing me to quit, draw at home and have LMA in school only partial days until she's 5 or so.

Of course, if it turns out she's a genius, she can stay up as long as she wants. Right?