[As the crow flies]
It's been a busy week. It's not likely to slow down, as I'll be working my usual off day on Sunday since we'll be shorthanded. Off Monday. Then I work four days. And then I'm off for three days and will spend some time in Murfreesboro for Kristin's graduation.
The day before yesterday, Phil's mom, brother, niece, and cousin spent the night. Rickey was scheduled to get his cast removed at Le Bonheur so they just made a couple of days of it in Memphis. Rylee is such a sweet baby. Phil's mom, Lila, let us keep her while she and the boys went to the hospital. It was really weird being in charge of a baby. The last time I did that was last summer, to comical results. Rylee is only seven months old; she can just barely pull herself up and stand. So she's completely dependent, and a good deal easier to keep track of than those annoying toddlers out there, since she crawls at less than half a mile per day. Her favorite thing to do is bounce up and down -- standing, sitting, whatever. Just bouncing. She smiles easily, gurgles to herself happily, and doesn't seem the least bit shy.

I found myself feeling self-conscious when interacting with her in front of anyone, though. Everything I did felt fake and contrived, completely unnatural. I feel like maybe I've squashed my maternity instinct with my heavy disdain for all things stereotypically feminine. Lila assures me it's there and that, if I ever have kids, it will just sort of emerge and take over. I'm not so sure. But if all babies were as nice as Riley, I wouldn't mind having one. The thing is, they're not. And I'm neurotic enough to ruin the best baby in the world.

But let me digress just a little bit. Maybe there is hope for the mommy in me (it makes me twitch just to write the word 'mommy' and mean myself). With Rylee in my charge, I didn't want the television to be on, even on cartoons. I didn't want Phil to sneak bites of cake or sips of Dr. Pepper to her. I scolded him for cursing. I was acutely aware that every little thing she saw or heard would be absorbed and form the bricks and mortar of her personality, countenance, outlook, and worldview. What an intense responsibility, even for four hours. This, no doubt, explains why all parents are crazy. But being crazy is the price you pay to do your best to make sure this little life grows up unhindered and undamaged. And for those four hours, I actually became convinced that it was something I'd like to try someday. It's the timing that's the issue; I can't imagine being at a place in my life where I could plan to create and rear a life. I'm that fucking selfish. So I guess I'll be one of those accidental parents eventually. And maybe I'll turn out to like it.

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We braved the humidity and mosquitoes to see a drive-in double feature Monday and came away with a fairly positive opinion of The Island and more than 60 collective mosquito bites on our feet. I wish I was exaggerating. I don't know why they went for the feet exclusively, but I can tell you that deciding between flip-flops and socks and shoes is just about impossible because they both pose their own mosquito bite-related challenges.

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Some jerkbag hacked into the Scripps servers tonight and rigged the entire freaking internet to direct every browser to his stupid blog. So almost every time I went to a web site, it took me to this guy's blog. There were a few exceptions, but it had everyone in the office freaking out. I'd link to this asshat's site, but I don't have his real URL and I wouldn't send the traffic to him anyway.

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I want a Mighty Mouse. Left and right clicking and a scroll wheel? Be still, my heart.

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So the view from space is that we're squandering our resources and ruining the Earth. That's among the most depressing things I've read today. What else? Trapped submarine sailors. Hundreds of thousands are dying of starvation in Niger because of wrecked crops last fall. The President will enjoy his 319th day of vacation in a couple of weeks (hat tip: Daily Kos). Robert Novak had a bad day.

But there is good news out there, too. John Roberts has some redeeming qualities, it seems. Tony Blair takes a hard line against terrorist wannabes. French Muslims will get a taste of capitalist freedom with some fries on the side. And the Daily Show got away with airing "bullshit" uncensored. Can someone name the law that allows this? I'm looking at you, journalism nerds! Seriously, tell me. I can't remember. Technically, shouldn't it count under the safe harbor laws, since it airs at 10 and 12 (at least in my time zone)? But they bleeped out "bullshit" when what's-his-face said it later. So would it be fair comment? I really don't know.