2.26.2005

Way to be child-free!

"Child-free" is supposedly the politically correct terminology for adults who, for whatever reason, do not have children at the moment (as opposed to the old-fashioned label "childless"). At first "child-free" struck me as a bit mean-spirited. Aren't children our future? Aren't we privileged, educated, problem-solving first-worlders somewhat duty-bound to reproduce, at least in limited quantities, to make sure there's someone out there to fix the mess our planet is in? And, as anyone who's set foot in Baby Gap knows, aren't our offspringespecially the infant varietyjust cute, cuddly, and generally to be wanted and adored?

This Saturday morning, as I write this just before noon, I have only recently gotten out of bed. I woke up at about 11, decided not to go to the farmer's market after all because it looked like it might rain, and flicked on the TV to catch the end of some cheesy HGTV show. It was very nice just lounging around with Nick and the cats, not worrying at all about the tick-tock of the clock, the to-do lists, or the terrible state of our laundry.

Now, in the "childless" era, I might not have been able to enjoy this. I might have gotten up two hours earlier and jumped into Taskmaster mode. "We're childless, honey!—we have a deficiency to be compensated for by productivity! Get ON IT!!!" Instead, I am sitting here writing in silence. Nick is playing Gran Turismo 4. Coffee may be brewed in the near future. Breakfast may be cooked in the early afternoon. At some point, I may open up a book I've been wanting to read (Angels & Demons, which Nick bought in an airport and thought was better than the Da Vinci Code), or maybe I'll play some World of Warcraft.

It's an unabashedly child-free moment, and I'm loving it. Perhaps the new, politically correct term for renters can be "house-free"?

2.21.2005

New Hijinks

I've decided I'm going with Blogger instead of trying to be a technical superhero.... As you can see, I have managed to reconstruct my previous site almost completely. I thought it had been unceremoniously deleted in a fit of New Year's confusion and ambition, and I was convinced I was going to have to spend a bunch of hours poking around cached pages on Google and www.webarchive.org to locate any of the text. For the past couple weeks, I've been dreading this, so on this lovely rainy day off, I decided to just start up my new blog, leave the past behind, and let my old blog entries be pleasantly forgotten. But then I fell prey to the power and simplicity of Google. I did a simple search on my old URL and found a ton of old entries cached, and it became a fun little challenge (accompanied by a heartwarming trip down memory lane) to attempt to reconstruct all the entries in the correct order.

And just when I was about 95% done with that, the person who (I'd thought) unceremoniously deleted my files dropped by and magically located a complete archive of my old site. It was a serious moment of irony, since this was the point at which I had just accepted that Blogger was really quite easy to use, that it wasn't so bad not having my own URL, that my old site was way too hard to permanently archive anyway so it didn't matter that Blogger didn't seem to have this function either, that I should just trust Google, they'll be around forever, and anyway isn't it good to support Google since that's where my brother works, and on, and on, ad nauseum. I took my friend's poor timing as a sign that, even though I'd found out that I could have been a technical superhero at that point, my original Blogger plan was in fact the elegant solution. Seems technical superherodom in the personal web site category is not my true destiny, and my energy is better expended on other endeavors.

So here we are at Blogger, and I hope to stay.