Where the hipsters are

 
Spent tonight w/ good friends B & K. They're the kind of people who you can go months without seeing, then sit down w/ them and actually have a real conversation about real stuff. Y'know, like what reality shows you're addicted to, between New Yorker and Atlantic issues of course. They have a new baby, little E, who is wild and crazy and doesn't much like to sleep. She's a cutie pie, though... and astoundingly their tales of sleep deprivation and temporary insanity didn't dissuade us from our recent - and kinda surprising, most of all to me - turn toward the possibility of kiddos. For years I was sure I didn't want any - loved Rocky the shih tzu (and Sparky, her now-deceased pal) and books and quiet time and restaurants and also my job. And I thought that was enough, which it still could be.

But lately all the reproducing our friends are doing - I just hit the big 3-2, so my friends are procreating like crazy - has kinda lured me into pondering babies. Babies. So weird.

Don't know where this will end up. But we're talking.

And as for the running? Yeah, we did about 2.5 miles the other night. The race, which is 6.2 miles, is in a week. Hah. Hahahahahaha. Clearly the temporary insanity is catching. Must. Go. To. Bed. (Because, after all, it is 10:48 on a Friday, and that's where all the hipsters are - in bed, with magazine, separated from spouse by the bowling-ball-like weight of a 9.5-pound shih tzu.)