smacky and bucky

Another half-day at work. We close on the new house this afternoon. For those of you keeping score, that makes three houses we'll own. Real estate-rich, cash-poor. I'd really like to see those two reverse themselves soon.

We had a nice relaxing weekend. One of my wife's sisters and husband also came down. We had a cookout, got out on the boat, went swimming, played some poker, watched a couple of movies, and played a few games of Cranium. Laura and I won both times. Between her spelling abilities, and my talent with the clay and drawing with my eyes closed, we were unbeatable! (And the funniest sight of the weekend had to be watching a retired army colonel (father-in-law) forced to try to hum Michael Jackson's Billie Jean, to his teammates, completely clueless of the melody.)

I also picked up the cats from the boarding place this morning and took them home. They'll be happy when we finally get moved in to the new place.

Taking a half day today. We need to sign some more papers, then I'm going to try to beat some monster traffic out of town. Good luck. DC on a Friday is traffic hell, but Friday before a three-day weekend? It's always important to pee one last time before you get in the car on those days, lemme tell ya. Nothing worse than knowing you have another 30 minutes in 2 MPH traffic and you're whispering to yourself the song Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now...

Hopefully all this stuff will wrap up by the end of next week. I want to write about stupid fun things, not stupid stressful things.

Stupid stuff I could be writing about if I weren't so self-absorbed:

*Chris Tucker, Jay Leno, and George Lopez: witness for the defense at Michael Jackson's trial(!)

*Tom Cruise fake-dating that Dawson's Creek chick that's half his age, and adamantly condemning psychology and psychiatry as pseudo-sciences. (From the man that follows a "religion" invented by a science fiction writer. And not even a very good science fiction writer!) He also said post-partum depression should be treated with vitamins. Ass hat.

*Recently released documents show the Koran-bashing may have gone on as early as 2002. Newsweek article not false?

*In the course of our cleaning and boxing things, I found my autographed copy of the album More Fun in the New World, by the band X, signed by the entire band: John Doe, Billy Zoom, D.J. Bonebrake, and the wonderful Exene Cervenka. Interesting piece of useless trivia: Exene Cervenka's ex-husband is Viggo Mortensen, Aragorn of Lord of the Rings.

I'll return to my beloved pop/trash-culture soon. I promise.

Last night my wife's mom came down and we looked at each room of the house. We grudgingly admitted it was a little "spare" looking. We wanted to go minimalist so people could imagine their things in the house, but apparently people are stupid. Example: In our second bedroom, we had a desk, chair, and the sleeper sofa. I suppose people can't see that as a bedroom. Well, here's what we did: Laura and her mom went shopping, and I got to work at home. I took two doors off their hinges and moved the sleeper sofa into the master bedroom. I put the futon in the second bedroom, opened as a bed. I took the mattress off the sleeper sofa to raise the height of the futon, and made it up with a comforter and pillows. Now it is a full-sized bed and people can see that yes, a bed will easily fit in there. Then I replaced the doors and touched up a couple of places the stupid sleeper sofa (which I had to move on its end) had scratched. We had a lot of pure white paint left over though, so my cover-up worked great.

Wife and her mom returned with a chair for the family room, a small coffee table for the living room, a slipcover for the sleeper sofa, and random pillows for here and there.

We're having another open house this Sunday. The realtor said people do indeed shop for houses on the holiday weekend, so okay. We're heading to the river Friday after work, returning Monday evening. Our schedule next week is also pretty frantic. On Tuesday we close on the other house. (We have the final walk-through that early afternoon too.) On Thursday, the movers are coming. The other company is also delivering the pod storage units to the new house. If the units are dropped off in the morning, the movers will unload them for us too. If the movers are gone, I get to do it.

I guess things will be all calm again around mid-June.

Confession: For today's post, I just pasted in the text from an email response to my mother, with a few specifics dropped. Yeah, I cheated.

All new content: I watched the season finale of Lost. I need to check the obsessive message board about the show. I'm sure there are things I missed.

My total cholesterol is 171. Kick ass. My HDL (good) cholesterol is only 30, which is low low low. I suppose as long as the total is low, that's okay. My blood pressure is right-on: 120/80. My body fat is in the "acceptable" range. (Acceptable to whom? In the eyes of the FDA? Insurance company?)

All this means that for someone who avoids regular exercise and vegetables, I must have some pretty good genetics picking up the slack.

We saw Revenge of the Sith last night. I can't give an objective review, so I won't even try. I had all the toys growing up. ALL OF THEM. (I was the baby of the family, and one spoiled lil' bastard!) I had the Death Star. (I'm linking to that auction just so you can see a few pictures of it.) It was immense. It was beautiful. It had a working elevator. A trash compactor that really "compacted" when you turned the handle. A big gun on top that would "explode" when you flipped the switch. It was a marvel of 1970s design. My point is, objectively reviewing the new movie would be like asking a father to objectively review his daughter's dance routine. It can't be done. "Well, she started out okay, but she was pretty weak in the middle and I got bored..."

I can say it was definitely the strongest of the prequel trilogy, and the one that finally gave fans what they wanted. It's the one of the first three I'm likely to watch the most often. I never liked The Phantom Menace. I was in Africa when it came out, and by the time I returned to the States, we had to go to a dollar theater in Portland, Maine to see it. (This was October 1999. The movie had been out six months by then.) After all the years waiting, I did not expect to see a little kid screaming "Yippee!" I suppose it's supposed to make it more tragic when you see what he ultimately becomes, but... And I totally didn't buy that the Jedi Council couldn't raise the funds to buy Anakin's mother too. Fine, they don't have the right kind of money, but when they got back to their home planet Yoda couldn't give them something from petty cash to go back for Mom? How much could she have cost?

Speaking of cost, no offers on the house yet. We have to remind ourselves it's only been five days.

Haven't updated in a while, huh? We took Friday off and got out of town. Had a relaxing weekend and returned Sunday after the open house. The realtor said about 60 people came by and looked the place over. Now we just wait. Make an offer, dammit!

I've been so tense about this. Haven't spoken much about it, beyond the blog. I just want this fucker sold.

Our office is having a health fair today, including:

Blood Pressure- How hard does your heart have to work?
Body Fat- What percent body fat do you have? A FUTREX device measures body fat painlessly, by passing an infrared light through your bicep.
Health Age Profile- Are you older or younger than your chronological age? Find out whether your health habits are adding to or taking away from your life expectancy.
Grip Strength- Find out how strong your grip is.
Stress Booth- Use a bio-dot to determine your stress level. Make a "stress-balloon." Pick up information on how to assess and reduce stress.
Women's and Men's Health Booth- Hands-on booth provides a variety of information on cancer reduction, heart health and disease prevention.
Nutrition- Displays and handouts.
Cholesterol- Finger-stick method gives results in minutes. Total and HDL (good) cholesterol.

I think I'm going to get every test I can. Might as well get the bad news early, right? I've never had my cholesterol tested, and I'm curious where I stand, with the "french fry and little exercise diet" I've been on recently. They'll probably tell me exercise will help with the stress. It's pouring rain here today. What are the odds of someone coming to see our house? We're supposedly looking at offers tomorrow. (That is if we get one. GAREHGEUGHJEHGEH!)

My sister-in-law's band has released their first 12 inch single. Check it out HERE. That's her on the cover. She's the singer. (She was an actress at one point, and I saw one of her movies. It included Cinemax-type simulated sex scenes. Awkward!)

There's a holiday weekend coming up, and I'm not sure I can enjoy it if our stupid house is still on the market. I sound so fucking self-absorbed and pathetically materialistic, I know. That makes my whining worse. I found out over the weekend a cousin of mine (somewhat distant. She's the granddaughter of my Grandfather's sister) has breast cancer and will need to have a mastectomy (both breasts removed). She's 29 and has a newborn. You see how disgusted I am with myself for worrying about a stupid piece of shit house?

Still haven't seen the new Star Wars, and I NEED to do this.

Today's title means nothing, except that our house is officially on the market now. Sign in the yard, lockbox on the door, neighbors whispering, wondering how much we'll get and how much it could again raise the value of their places.

I dropped the kitties off at the boarder this morning, along with a big bag of dry food they like (a mixture of Meow Mix seafood blend and Science Diet soft nuggets hairball formula). I also brought along a soft blue blanket they like, and a note that they like dry food in the morning and wet (canned) food in the evening. I felt like I was putting the kids on the bus for the first time. It was sort of sad. Sheesh!

Last night's episode of Lost was good. Each show usually concentrates on the background story of one character, but last night's covered many characters, giving little snippits of their activities in the airport in Australia before they got on the plane. Just about everyone on the plane had something to atone for, and the island seems to be acting as an absolving agent. It's a killer too though, and next week's two-hour finale promises some kick-ass fighting.

Tonight is the two-hour season finale of CSI, directed by Quentin Tarantino. I'm looking forward to that. We don't actually watch many shows faithfully. We've banned reality TV from our place, with the exception of an occasional episode of America's Top Model, just because it's such an entertaining trainwreck.

Off to the river after work, friends and neighbors. Bring your realtor, stroll around our house. Enjoy.

At work, I'm currently working on a book that contains these amazing illustrations by Tomas Bunk. Among other things, he designed most of the "Garbage Pail Kids" cards. Remember those? They're actually a little after my time, but I know they had a devoted following. Check out his other work here. He rocks.

According to our realtor, about 20 agents showed up to look the place over. Not bad for two hours. Hopefully they'll return with clients on Sunday and those clients will bring their fat checkbooks. Or their thin checkbooks that withdraw funds from a fat bank account. Yeah, I like the latter better. It's not the size of the checkbook, it's what you can do with it...

The "check engine" light on my car is on. I used to drive a 1966 Chevy Malibu. It looked like the one in the link, except it was four-door. That car didn't have air conditioning, no power steering, no power brakes, no nothing. Just an engine. So when the "check engine" light came on in that car, you pulled the hell over right away. It meant something was grinding against something else in a very bad way. Now I drive a VW Beetle from this century, and I can barely tell where to put the oil. It has a computer and a million parts. According to the manual, when the "check engine" light comes on there's a problem with the emissions system. That's pretty vague. Does that mean I'm polluting the air a little more than usual, or if I turn on the air conditioner carbon monoxide will pour into the car?

I dropped it off at the garage near my house, walked across the street to the 7-11, got cash from the ATM and coffee, called a cab, waited in parking lot for cab, and rode in to work. Hopefully it's something simple they can fix easily. Last time, maybe a year ago, it was an oxygen sensor. I don't even know what it does. Does it regulate how much oxygen the engine gets? I really need my car fixed today because tomorrow is a full day. Wake up, make sure house is immaculate, drive cats to boarding place, head in to work, work, leave at 3:30 for three days at the river. Maybe drive to a larger town sometime this weekend and catch the new Star Wars.

Today is our broker's open house. What the hell is that, smacky? Will there be chips or cake? Can I come? Slow down with the questions! Here:

The purpose of the broker's open house is to introduce a new listing to local agents. The chance that a home will sell as a result of a broker's open house is relatively high. Serious buyers usually work closely with agents in order to find a home. By exposing a listing to more agents, you increase the number of showings to bone fide buyers.

So, no chips, no cake, and sorry, unless you're a realtor in the northern Virginia area, you can't come. We have an open house scheduled for Sunday though! You can come to that, okay? Feel better?

I may be cynical and mistrusting, but I don't believe Newsweek's story was false. Is it difficult to believe interrogators at Guantanamo Bay desecrated the Quran? We have freaking PHOTOS of Iraqis making a naked human pyramid, chained to beds with panties on their faces, and with wires attached to their genitals. You think people who would do all that (and take pictures of themselves smiling while they do it) would suddenly say "Hey man. Put the Quran down. That's their holy book. We don't do that here. Attach this to that man's balls and run it to this car battery instead."

I know, I know. One group of soldiers is in Iraq, and the other is in Cuba. Not the same place, not the same people. I'm grouping soldiers together, which is wrong. It may very well be "a few bad apples" (with cameras). What likely happened is that this small Newsweek story caused violent protests (and deaths) across the Muslim world, and the US government delivered an ultimatum. Retract this story. Can't blame them. Why make the enemies we have even more determined in their cause, and why create new enemies while we're at it? I don't want any more troops killed because of a story that really shouldn't have been published in the first place. (First Amendment, Freedom of the Press? I know. If people didn't do these things, people wouldn't report on them, right?)

My wife's friend might have two extra tickets for the Thursday noon showiing of Revenge of the Sith. Wonder if I can take a long lunch that day?

We are so close to being ready. How close? We're at the "deciding what to put where on the walls" stage. I took Friday off and stayed home to do some things around the house, and to point out things to the painters since they were finishing up. Today a cleaning crew is coming to wash all the windows inside and out, and to give the house a "deep clean" (the man's words. I don't know what that entails exactly. Guess I'll find out when I get home!) After work I'll cut the grass one last time and we should be set. We'll just need three couples to decide they must have our house and have a bidding war this weekend. Okay? Thanks.

We went to the river this weekend. It took until around midmorning Saturday for us to start relaxing, as we were still tense from our week of stress hell. We both woke up at 2:30 am the first night there. Very strange. I watched the series finale of Enterprise Friday night. The producers had said it was going to be a valentine to the fans. It was more like a big "F You" to the fans. Yeah, it was nice to see the TNG people guesting, but how appropriate was it? It really marginalized the current series. As De correctly says, "The series deserved to go out on its own, not serve as a footnote."
And the way they killed a major character...If you want me to really geek out with the analogies, it's like the way Bendis killed Hawkeye in Avengers Disassembled recently. His quiver catches fire and he flies into the exhaust of a ship, committing suicide in a pretty meaningless gesture. That's how the death of this character was on Enterprise. Especially since it was shown as a flashback that had occurred several centuries ago! Could you be forced to feel more emotionally removed? The producers DARE you to try to care about the characters! Oh well.

More later.

We're delaying putting the house on the market for one week. There are simply too many small things the painters and handyman need to finish, and we'd rather make sure they do it right than fast (considering what we're paying them!) This is actually good news for mutiple reasons: it allows us to get the rooms all staged and have the broker's open house on Tuesday (This is when realtors look around and tell their clients to come see it later in the week.) So our house will go on the market Wednesday or Thursday of next week.

The carpet is in in the family room. It's nice and functional. Sure beats that tile that was designed to look dirty even when it was clean! What were the last owners thinking? I broke a little piece of plastic on top of the sliding wood closet door when I was attempting to put it back on the rails. I heard a crack and thought, oh crap. I went to Home Depot and thought "what are the odds of them having a replacement piece of plastic for a cheap wood closet door from 1983?" Woo hoo! They actually had them; they come in a package of four for $2.00. That is such a nice feeling. And they were in the second aisle I checked, which is the fastest I've found anything in Home Depot!

We also bought black cabinet handles for the kitchen. They look really good against the white doors, and help hide the fact that the kitchen, though functional, hasn't had new cabinets since it was built.

It's coming together. They painted the concrete stoop in the front yesterday. Little things like that (that we really should have done ourselves years ago) make a dramatic difference, which is what we're counting on.

Wanna see Star Wars as performed by Lego people? Well, you can! It's on the Lego site (so it's officially sanctioned) and it's called Revenge of the Brick. It has lots of cute jokes in it, which I'll let you discover for yourself. It's a nice 5- minute break in your day.

Monstee: This one is all for you! MONSTEE LINK

The good news: They've doubled the number of painters, in theory doubling the amount of work they can do and cutting the remaining job time in half. That math ain't hard.

The bad news: Every room in the house is in some stage of being painted. We can't even set up sleeping bags on the floor somewhere.

We grabbed the dog and the two cats and headed to the luxurious Quality Inn. Okay, not luxurious. And overpriced, really, but they allow pets. We got settled in and watched House. The guy who played Harold from Harold and Kumar go to White Castle guested as a guy who enjoyed domination, specifically being strangled. Strange.

This morning we checked out of the hotel and we each went to work. Laura took the dog and cats with her. We're leaving the cats at a "pet resort" through Sunday. Buzz especially hates riding in the car so much that he screams nonstop the entire trip. He screams himself hoarse. I have no idea why. When he was a kitten, he and his sister snuggled together and went to sleep the entire ride. Now he's not having it.

I will be so glad when this week is over. Day by day, it looks like we're gonna make it. Note to self: Calm the fuck down. See? It's still working...

Ever see The Three Amigos? This entry's title is a line Steve Martin chanted as he was chained to the wall and trying to free himself.

Yesterday after work (immediately after work, in fact) we met the home inspector and realtor at the "soon-to-be-ours" house to confirm it's not falling apart. It passed! A few small things to fix when we move in, but nothing that will require a second job selling my plasma. That's a nice feeling, knowing my plasma is safe.

Painting and sanding continues at our current house. They were gone when we finally got home (around 6), but the dust everywhere testified to their activities. It will be very nice when this is all done. Right now all the furniture is piled into one room, on each floor of our house. So all the furniture is in our master bedroom and the family room. When they finish painting, and the other guy finishes polishing the wood floors, we can put stuff back. I've been so tense about this stuff, my wife has gone from sympathy and concern into the realm of annoyance. I actually have to tell myself Calm the fuck down. When did I suddenly become Captain Worst Case Scenario? I've always been the cheery optimistic one. This just brings up my whole "I hate change" issue. For someone that dropped everything and moved to Africa, I find myself resisting change recently. I don't know if that's a growing-up thing, or just a lazy-ass thing. We stopped by Borders Sunday afternoon after my near panic attack, and I picked up The Essential Chill Collection. The reviews are mixed, but it's seven CDs of chill out music (one reviewer called it "boring," which seems to miss the point and purpose of the music). At $30, I was just happy it was the original artists, and not "The Original Chill Out Happy Time Singers Performing Your Favorite Hits!"

This whole move is bringing back memories of starting at new schools. I went to a "gifted opportunities" school for fifth grade, which meant all-new classmates from the ones I'd been with since kindergarten. Then moving up to middle school was so scary, because I was returning to all the other kids I used to know, and it was like I'd been out of town for a year and returned. Sort of like that song by the Eagles: New Kid in Town. I always loved that song.

I'm so sore and tired this morning. We spent all weekend the same way: Working from about 6am to 10pm, collapsing on the bed exhausted. Workmen were all over the house at the same time, plastering, sanding, painting...it's actually an escape from everything to come to work. Our house goes on the market Thursday morning. We are thinking of taking friday off and heading out of town early for the weekend. It will be soooooooooooooooooooooooooo nice when this is all over. I know our house will be beautiful for the buyers by doing all of this, but damn it's tiring.

You don't want to read these boring details anymore than I want to relive this weekend anytime soon. I'm going to eat some breakfast and try to wake up.

Moment of brutal honesty time: Sunday we snuck away from the chaos for an hour for lunch, and as I was sitting in the booth thinking of everything left to do, and stressing about everything, I started to tear up, and for about five seconds, it really felt like I was just going to start crying and never stop.

I'm a little tired this morning, but it's a self-satisfied sort of feeling, because I did so much yesterday. After work I went to the hardware store and picked up some supplies. Came home, completely emptied the attic. Replaced some acoustic tiles in the basement (had to cut some odd ones to fit). Used the weed eater to edge the patio (getting grass from between bricks). Met the painter when he arrived, showed him everything that needed done. Met the handyman that will install the new faucets and other random jobs. Packed a few more boxes. Rolled up family room rug. Emptied dishwasher, filled it up again. Ran three loads of laundry. Went to dinner with wife. Stopped by Best Buy, picked up season 1 of Enterprise (geek!). Returned home, added two cds to my iPod while watching CSI. Oh, I also set up delivery of a mobile storage unit (a big box they are going to put in our driveway) for Saturday. This weekend will be spent filling it up with boxes. Then they come pick it up and take it to their warehouse, and deliver it to our new house whenever we ask for it. This allows us to clean the place out to show it (and sell it) before we close on the other house. Thus avoiding having two mortgages, which requires superhuman financial powers.

Want to feel time going by? Check out this link HERE. I saw it on Wil Wheaton's site, and it's worth passing on. It's hypnotic.

Have a nice weekend, everyone. Think of me moving boxes all weekend while you relax with your loved ones, sipping a pina colada and having lots of sex. You smug bastards!

Yesterday morning in frustration over the house hunting, I said to my wife "I just to have some idea what I'll be doing next week!" Well, now I do.

As you may recall, we put in a bid on a house on April 25 that was rejected almost immediately. The owner expected ours to be the first of many escalating offers. It wasn't. On April 27, he lowered the asking price $25,000. On May 2, his realtor called our realtor and asked if we were still interested. We didn't respond. At noon yesterday, my wife called and said our realtor had just called and said that at 11am the asking price was lowered another $20,000. The new asking price was now officially $1,000 LESS than what we had offered nine days earlier and had rejected.

Yesterday afternoon we put in a bid for the asking price, and it was accepted right away. So nine days later, we bought a house for $1,000 less than we had been willing to pay! My head is swimming, this all happened so fast. HOLYSHITWEJUSTBOUGHTAHOUSE!!!! Excuse me. It's still sinking in.

Now the fun part: Our house has to go on the market next week. We need to pack boxes, toss junk, and generally clean the place out. Fast. Anyone want to buy a house?

Oh, funny story: I'm a member of the local freecycle group. People offer things up on the web for free to anyone who wants it, or they post looking for things. Yesterday I posted asking for moving boxes (as many people move into this area each week, why buy boxes, right?) Five minutes later I had set up a time to meet a woman at her office nearby and pick up a bunch of boxes. The woman works at Whitman Walker Clinic, which "provides culturally sensitive, compassionate health care and supportive services to gay men, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender individuals" (description from their website). The boxes (perfect sizes for our needs) were from deliveries to their clinic, so many of the boxes have things stamped on the side. Things like 1,000 condoms, assorted flavors. Astroglide, 25 sample boxes. Flavored dental dams, one gross. When we move in, our new neighbors will think we're quite the swingers!

AAAAAUGH! WE BOUGHT A HOUSE!!!!

Sorry. It's still sinking in.

We put a bid in on another house yesterday, and the realtor called last night to tell us we were outbid. We can't believe what people are willing to pay for houses around here. This one was really nice, too. Damn.

The guy with the bungalow is still interested in selling us his home, so we're considering that. It's not as nice a place, but comes with a lot more land, and the land will probably be worth much more than the house someday, as everything around us continues to expand faster than the waistlines of our nation's children. We're making a pros and cons list now.

If you've never done it before, bidding on a house is like trying to hook up at a party. (Please keep in mind that depending on your age/geographic location, "hooking up" may mean something completely different from what I think it means, okay?) Imagine you're 15, and you somehow got invited to a college party. There are a lot of older good looking people there. You make eye contact with someone across the room, and she/he smiles at you. Oh God. Okay, be cool. You start to cross the room, feeling your heart beat in your skull. Now you're next to the person, making small talk, cracking a joke. The other person laughs, and things are going well. All right, this seems promising. He/she excuses him/herself to go to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, you spot him/her walking out the door with someone else. THAT'S what it feels like when you don't get the house.
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Finally a new episode of Lost on tonight. Some critics are already whining that it will probably turn into another Twin Peaks or X Files where the mysteries drag on and are never satisfactorily answered. Yes, those shows went out with whimpers rather than bangs, but they were fun rides while they lasted.

Does anyone know how to bypass the copy protection on a music CD? I bought one without noticing it was copy protected, and it won't let me put the songs on my iPod. Furthermore, the booklet's fine print says "In some players (car CD players, for example) difficulty in playback may be encountered." That's exactly what happened. I can't add the songs to my iPod, and it won't play in my car. Great. I bought a CD I can only listen to in my house. Thanks a lot. I know there has to be some hacking tips online to get around this stupid thing. I just have to find them.

Oh boy, I hope not. I was thinking last night about the knowledge taking up space in my brain that is completely useless. I was also wondering if that's why I have trouble remembering more important things.

Things I know that do me no good:

Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain have a child named Frances Bean. (and Gweneth Paltrow has a child named Apple.)

Famous people who profess membership in the church of scientology include Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Beck, Julliet Lewis, Kirsty Alley, and Lisa Marie Presley.

The following actors have played mentally challenged people in movies in a bid to be taken seriously (or to win awards): Dustin Hoffman (Rainman), Tom Hanks (Gump), Sean Penn (I am Sam), William H. Macy (that traveling salesman movie on TNT), Rosie O'Donnell (last Sunday's "Riding the Bus" movie), Cuba Gooding Jr. (Radio), Leo Dicaprio (Gilbert Grape), Julliet Lewis (can't remember the name of the movie. She was retarded and wanted to get married and have a baby).

(The list of actors above are the ones I consider most shameless in their bid for an award. Some of those movies are actually pretty good, but they suffer from the "I'm playing a retarded person, give me an award" stigma. You can just anticipate the ads before award season: "For your consideration..." Puke.)

The point of all this is, why do I remember these things, which aren't even interesting to me, when I can't remember most of the terms from my freshman biology class? I spent days and days learning that stuff, poring over texts, writing notes, and it's all gone.

Weekend: Sleep. Man, during the week, I see sleep as something I have to do between days. Usually right around six hours a day. This weekend, my body finally said "Okay, you know what? This is bullshit. I'm tired and you're gonna damn well sleep." So sleep I did. Sleeping until 9, with naps in the afternoons too.

This was a weekend spent in bed quite a lot, actually. (grin)


I can't believe it's May. Another year half over. Long ago, in the 1990s, May meant exams, and packing up and moving out of dorms. (Shudder.) I don't miss that. When I was in college, Bush was president and we were at war with Iraq...huh. The other Bush. The one that seems slightly less "faith-based."

When I was awake this weekend, the weather did more than cooperate, it bent over backwards to please. Saturday evening I grilled on the deck for the first time this year! A cloudy wet early Sunday morning gave way to a sunny afternoon with a smooth breeze off the water.

Welcome back, Family Guy. You've still got it. You've still got the funny.

In her blog, Kate described her perfect solitary day, so I thought I'd do the same. Let's pretend it's a Saturday, my wife is in...Chicago...on business. I probably wake up pretty early, because the cats and the dog don't let me sleep in too often. I feed them, get dressed (jeans, a ringer tee, black adidas samba sneakers) and head out to the diner. Do the crossword over a cup of coffee, pancakes and bacon. Go to the used bookstore and spend about two hours browsing all the shelves. Next stop is the movie theater to see whatever stupid horror movie is playing there. Quick lunch somewhere Caribbean or African (somewhere you can get fried plantains). The meal puts me in the mood to head into downtown DC, to the always fun but never crowded African History Museum. Wander the rooms, looking at the Kente cloth and b&w photos. Get out of DC immediately after, because spring Saturdays in DC are a nightmare throng of tourists. Drive out to Tysons Corner. Stop at Tower Records and browse the import section. Roll eyes at $35 price tag on CD I want. Put it back and leave. Arrive back home, go into backyard with dog and a good paperback (picked up earlier at the used bookstore. Oh, you didn't see me buy that?). Read until sun starts setting. Go inside, order pizza, crack open a beer, put in DVD, maybe something by Jackie Chan. Old School Kung Fu. Lay on sofa, both cats climb up and fall asleep on me. Head upstairs to bed around 10, put on a CD, something mellow, jazz or Al Green. Read a little more until my eyes get heavy. All the animals are asleep on the bed and I pet each and say goodnight before switching off the light.

Whew. Full day. Most likely my wife would call just after dinner and we'd talk for a while, so insert that between the pizza and the Jackie Chan. I also described the perfect day under current circumstances. I could have said "I wake to the sounds of the waves outside my hut in Fiji..." but I assumed Kate meant perfect low-key day alone where you are right now. Right?