Second to last post.

Mamalujo is some kind of Probing Questions savant. I will answer him because I have no energy to talk about the minutiae of life right now. Suffice it to say "I am here. We are well." (As I side note, I've never verbalized the unpleasant feeling I've been tip-toeing around since we made the offer on our new house. To be direct, I felt like there was a sexual predator in our neighborhood. I avoided the website wherein I could check the area for registered sex offenders - I just didn't want to know. It turns out I was right, but the man is dead and gone now. He was the former occupant of our house. Do I feel icky? No. I feel like we shooed him out.)

1. How well do you sleep?
Not. The baby still sleeps with us, and he preferes to be perpendicular to the flow. If it weren't for him it would still be Not. I have extremely vivid, plot-driven dreams and wake up frequently, shaken and scared. Or sad. Or ecstatic. Or thoughtful. Regardless, there's never a dull moment in my bed. Ha.

2. Do you like backpacking?
Literally? Yes. I love accessories, and backpacks are high on my list. It's very satisfying to feel the cushioned curve of backpack straps slung over my shoulders. I never did the one-strap cool kid thing. Backpacking in nature? In theory yes. My husband is a mountaineering sort and yearns for the day when the kids are old enough for us all to do the Swiss Family Robinson thing. At this point there's no opportunity and so I don't even think of it. But the idea of not showering for several days and eating hotdogs by a campfire is lovely. Just don't say the word T-I-C-K. That'll turn me into a quivering mound of chickenshit girly-girl in a heatbeat.

3. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?
The Ngorongoro crater. I don't think it will ever happen.

4. Is there a hobby you want to take up, but never have?
No. Well, yes. I've pretty much tried everything I'm even remotely interested in, but never to the point where I've been able to say "I can ___" whatever. Play guitar, do HTML, bead, skateboard. I want to be the best at something the minute I try it, and at this point in my life I can't be. So I quit before I struggle. I want to take up guitar. I want to be able to play Closer to Fine and scream out "I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHIN ABOUT MY LIFE"

5. Have you seen someone die?
Yes. Two people. Once, in college during an intramural basketball game, a seemingly healthy 19-year-old boy had a heart-atack running back on defense and was dead in less than 15 minutes. I watched him get shocked by the paramedics twice before anyone thought we should clear the gym. Purplish foam bubbled from his mouth. That's what I remember. I don't recall what he looked like, but he was wearing red nylon shorts and a black t-shirt. A year later I was the afternoon weight-room attendant in the same gym complex and a 65-year-old man running laps in the humid track above the amphitheater-shaped swim stadium dropped dead of a heart attack. They yelled for help and I ran from across the hall. Another jogger was giving him CPR, but the old man was so terribly ashen and limp. I went back to work, knowing he was dead.