Kiddie party

Today, we had the kiddie version of our work Christmas party. As I am kiddie-less, I didn't go. But it is impossible to not notice some 20-odd bundles of energy darting about the hallways. I happened upon one of these--stationary this time--near the library. She was standing in the middle of the corridor, about two feet high, her tiny face in a half-frown, half-smile, palms up in a questioning gesture, demanding of the world-at-large: "Where's daddy? Where'd daddy go?" "Hmmm! Where DID daddy go?" I wondered. And, as I watched, the half-frown disappeared, to be replaced by a full grin, as daddy appeared. "There's daddy!"

I went into the kitchen, and stumbled upon another little guy, only slightly older, sitting at the dining table, picking at a piece of pizza, long gone cold, somberly absorbed in the news on TV. Someone came in and asked him where his parents were. He mumbled something shyly, and went back to playing with his food and watching the news. "Hah!" I thought. "A journo in the making!"

And as I walked back to my cubicle, one of The Rock's two daughters, and a boy of unknown parentage, shot past me shouting, "Hide! Hide!" (At first, I thought she was yelling "Hi! Hi!" and I was almost moved to tears that she remembered me.) They rushed into the empty office next to mine, and I tuned out. A few minutes later, my attention was drawn to them again as The Rock and Pendio, a senior reporter, approached the office.

"You know, Pendio here is the BEAR of the whole of The Mag," The Rock informed the kids. Pendio duly growled to show that he was indeed the bear of the office. "Yes, he's the BRAIN of this WHOLE place." Pendio puffed out his chest, and pointed to his head. "So you guys need to be quiet, so he can THINK!"

The kids were clearly unimpressed by Pendio's greatness. "Well, we're leaving now anyway," one of them informed The Rock, duly putting him and all of Pendio's bearness and braininess in place. And, after a little more high-pitched excitement, they did.

Ah, for peace and quiet. Although, I must say, it is fun to have little people around--for a little bit at least-- in such a very grown-up place.

Published authors

I wandered into a bookshop during lunchtime today in search of a guide book for my trip this weekend (yes, I'm actually venturing outside of Tokyo-- yaay! But more on that later) I stopped in front of the shelf displaying the latest arrivals. . . and what do you know? There, sitting on the shelf, was Gio's new book.

And, right below it was the book that Pendio edited.

It was very strange. How does one go all one's life without knowing ANY of the authors of any of the multitude of books displayed in a bookstore, and then suddenly, in one day, find that one knows TWO of them (and interviewed a third)?!?! Weird, I tell you!

I felt a prick of pride, particularly on seeing Gio's book. I've been receiving vague updates on its progress for the past few years, so to actually see the finished product, so prominently displayed, gave me goosebumps. With a huge grin that I couldn't wipe off my face, I picked it up, read the introduction, flipped through it, and debated whether my wallet could bear the dent buying it would leave. In the end, I didn't. I think I might still buy it (and yes, read it!) despite my woeful lack of knowledge about (and interest in:() the subject.

And now, methinks, maybe it's time to write my own. What say you, good reader? Actually, I have sort of thought about it (well, in the vague way that one would consider climbing Mount Fuji--which, incidentally, I'm also contemplating doing. . .sigh, I've such high hopes for my life). I even have the makings of an idea for a book--although even the thought of pursuing it makes me want to go take a nap. Only problem (or I guess I should say, one of many problems). . . I have the attention span of a comatose grasshopper. So whether I could finish writing an entire book is highly questionable. And even if I managed to miraculously plough through one, all the waiting around for publication would be enough to drive me to the madhouse. So maybe not? I can always live vicariously. I'm sure Gio has quite a few more books up his sleeve. . .