Good lord, this silence has got to be some sort of record. Maybe I was just so relieved to be speaking again that I had to use up all my words orally. Something sounds wrong about that.
Yeah, my voice is mostly back. After three weeks--sheesh. I still sound a tiny bit froggy on those high notes. But I will return to my voice lesson this week, oh yes. I will.
Just returned from a Passover/Easter weekend in the OC. It's fast becoming a tradition to stay in the Residence Inn near my parents' house, which has room for us to spread out, and a kitchen for making snacks. Jarrah is bonkers for the pool, and David can loll on a shaded lounge chair with his Xoom while I sweat it out to my iPhone tunes in the tiny but sufficient gym. That way all three of us are happy.
Lots of niceness this weekend. Baby Lilah is now about 13 months, the age Jarrah was when I met her (though about half the size) and hilarious, outgoing and easy. I got to see my family for the first time in like three months. Breakfast with my dear old pal, Bryan, from high school. A stunning walk around Balboa Island, a breezy ferry trip, and some Skeeball (in place of the Area 51 which turned out to be broken--drat, I was really in the mood to blow the heads off some aliens.) It was all niceness except for the part where I had a great big ol' baby tantrum, as I often do when I'm around my family. I just stew and simmer about things until I blow over one seemingly tiny and inconsequential thing. And everyone just goes about their business or talks about me like I'm not even there. It's like I'm in one of those time-space continuum bubbles that you see in movies, or I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past or something, totally invisible to the naked eye. It's disconcerting, so I just keep yelling and feeling like a crazy person, trying to get noticed. Yep, good times. You'd think I'd grow out of it, but no, because it's in no way fun, and then I feel super-ashamed on top of being mad. Luckily, it had blown over by dinnertime. Everyone just pretends like it never happened. Family tradition, I guess.
Today we had Easter lunch with Mary and Paul and Joy, complete with yummy treats (so yummy it was less hard to turn down the rolls and the cornbread--we've just completed Day 2 of eight days of carb-free living) and an egg hunt. We also had several sequels of an original play, "The Easter Bunny's Mistake," written and performed by J and J with impressive amounts of hopping.
Next week I'm off on a girls' weekend to San Francisco to see Spamalot and indulge in some gluten-free frolicking with two friends from my University of London days. Really pretty stoked about that prospect (though not about the gluten-free part.)
Oh, and are you on Instagram? That's my new slightly obsessive hobby, taking pictures of random stuff, bathing it in filters and posting it to Instagram. Come join me, won't you?