Woodland Critters

I just don't understand how bunnies protect themselves?
We have a butt-load of rabbits around our clover-filled yard. They are cute and furry, but I don't see how they really survive. There are a few baby bunnies now, and except for their lightening quick reflexes... what exactly protects these things from predators? Maybe they are very witty and keep their attackers laughing. Or trick them by pointing, sneakily to a non-existent "danger" behind the enemy. Or maybe it is with the hypnotic, shake-shake of a shapely cottontail, my little friends buy themselves enough time to "high-tail-it" out of there (heehee).

I told you, i told you, but you wouldn't believe me- no...

'just a little bunny rabbit...'

Play on, Playa's

Okay, I can't let the reality TV rant go with out mentioning the most awesome show I've never seen: THE PLAYER.

If "Who wants to marry a multi-millionaire" slept with "The bachlorette..."
and in some other dingy basement across town,
"For love or Money" had a nasty romp with "Dismissed..."
and if each of those one night stands produced illegitimate children-
who ended up drunk and naked after the prom...
the product of THAT union would be "The player!"

Apparently, on this show, a woman (who considers herself a "player") has to chose the one guy out of 15 (all self-proclaimed "Players") who is not playing her, but has genuine feelings. The punch line (and the reason the show has won my heart) is b/c every episode, the chick dismisses a dude by saying something like, "I'm not getting played, don't hate the player, hate the game." And then she turns to the remaining meat and says: "PLAY ON PLAYA'S!"

We should all have such standard, straight forward mottos...
And unto you, my dear peeps, i say: "Playa's...Play on"

Hat tip to L ;)

So you think you can (kill me off while forcing me to watch this show) DANCE?

I'm not going to lie, the kids are talented, but how much worse are the reality shows going to get?!? My wife is one of the smartest, most well-read woman i have ever known. 60-80% of her pleasure reading is over my head... And I'm a SMART chick. I won't go into the fact that she's reading 2 books in Spanish right now!!! (I guess reading novels in English is no longer challenging enough.) When she is in charge of the remote, however, we enter the twilight zone of mindless, athletic voyerism. If it's not basketball, baseball, football, or tennis- it's hockey, figure-skating, softball, or billiards (and beyond.) All i know is that most of our TV watching involves either a stadium full of fans, or a wildly applauding studio audience. Now we've moved on to a new phase: "competitive" dance. Thing is, I am weak in spirit- 10 minutes of this and I hear myself say, "Baby, Don't fastforward through Nigel's critique."
(WHAT?!?! Why do i care???)
I gotta go, Musa and Natalie are doing a waltz...

Deluge

For definition, look out window.

Blow job

Despite the truly crap-assy weather we've been having:

There have been some amazing breezes... They are noticeably glorious late at night and early in the AM (the times i am most often scantily clad near an open window.) There is something insanely wonderful about a cool breeze when the dew point is within a few degrees of the temperature. Our sofa cushions seem perpetually damp, and the bath towels smell musty after a few hours of hanging on their rack... We could turn on the AC and dry out the house, but i can't give up this breeze...

Doogie Howser, APRN

My trip back from Dallas was nearly as harrowing as the trip out, but I was so happy to get home I didn't really care. I took a chance and went to the airport early thinking I could convince one airline to transfer my ticket to another so that I could go on a direct flight instead. That is the only reason I made it home: my original flight had been cancelled unbeknownst to me and thus my wish was granted. Had I not gone early I would have never made that flight. Needless to say, my bag didn't make the flight, but some dear person from the airline dropped it off on my front porch somewhere around 3 this morning.

A couple of interesting things that happened at the conference: I got to see the Surgeon General speak (more on that later). I was stopped while going to one of my classes by a woman who's only purpose for stopping me was to make this comment: "Oh my god, you're 15 and you're an NP!". I experienced for the first time the massive exhibit hall that is home to a myriad of drug companies and other people who want to sell something. It was truly unbelievable how much money went in to trying to convince us to prescribe certain drugs. My fellow conference attendees were absolutely devoted to getting as many bags, pens, and gadgets as possible. It was truly an amazing sight. The resort itself was huge, and I quite enjoyed afternoons by the pool (when my bag arrived 2 days after I did).

Needless to say, I'm glad to be back home, with all my stuff (plus a new outfit and some new underwear). We leave to visit all my parents on Friday, but luckily it's a direct flight!

Baby Back Bibs: Oh, to be 13-weeks old again

As demanded by the fans, it's time to check back in with baby Mac...
Now, this is what I call a perfect child:



Here she looks exactly like Web as a baby:



And here she looks exactly like Bill (now):



First time going for a swim:











Pensive in Pink:



Excited in Pink:



Mischievous in Pink:



Perfect in Pink:

Who's better than this kid???
As always, if you'd like to see millions more pics of mac, there's the shutterfly web link listed to the left under "blogs we like."

Happy b-day to me

Yesterday was my birthday. (well, now we're already two days out) I got some great gifts and birthday messages- thank you to all!

Even though I am starting to truly question the extreme volume of crap that i currently own- wondering if it might not be time to simplify and rid myself of some of these possessions (can you tell this year- 33- is my jesus year?) It's still nice to get cool things from peeps: a gift card to Barnes and Noble; a facial, a golf-practice set (not to mention a FABULOUS dinner out at Colonial Times, one of my favorite restaurants); a WEBER gas grill- yummy!!!

Also, on my b-day i took a day off from work and did what i would do with 65-90% of my days if I were independently wealthy: Go jump in the Atlantic Ocean for a few minutes, spend an hour or two on the beach, and then spend an hour or two at the casino. (hmmm.... laaaaahhhhllaaa.)Of course, if I were independently wealthy, I wouldn't have to lean over a craps table where wannabes will correct me, mockingly when I accidently say, "hard 12."

I know there's no "12 the-easy-way" in dice, i just got caught up in all the excitement. Easy there, Mr. Retired senior citizen... Easy there, Mr. "I need to go the bathroom." (When your chips run out, the stall you saddle up to is called an ATM, not a urinal...) Let me ask you a question, sirs... if you're so perfect at the craps table, what are you doing here with me at a $5 minimum table on a thursday at 2pm?!? In the craps table of my dreams, placing an adorable, "Hard 12" bet would elicit a chorus of approving cheers and a shower of $100-chips being added to my piles.

Regarding this birthday: I have started to notice a few things that i can only explain metaphorically as passing through the arches of adulthood onto the yellow brick wall road of old age:

1) The feeble-minded scarecrow. Last week, i had to stop mid-recipe to draw two circles so I could visualized that 3/4 was a larger amount than 2/3. Don’t get me started on the fact that the lines and numbers on my “old” measuring cup have worn off (HOW OLD DO YOU HAVE TO BE to own a MEASURING CUP whose lines and increment identifiers have WORN OFF?!?!) Forget the fact that this information used to be memorized for quick extraction… I recall a time when the mental arithmetic involved in converting simple fractions was not so overwhelming that i had to immediately resort to pie-chart sketchings.

2) The cowardly belly. My metabolism is seriously slowing down. In addition to grieving the decline of my mental powers, I am saddened by the fact that i just can't "bounce back" from the negative affects of combinating inactivity and fried food the way i used to...

3) Slide some oil to me. No, I am not ready yet, to complain about decreasing estrogen levels, it’s in the bones: the knee joint is (barely) connected to the patella. When I ascend the stairs my wife gives a disgusted look as if I am making farting sounds with my armpits. I can’t help that the bones grind together in that fashion, try not to look so repulsed, baby.

4) And your little eye-goop too. Something has changed in my body’s ability to keep my eyes free from crust and mangy goop. I don’t know what else to say except this is a noticeable, unanticipated inconvenience in my hygiene and grooming routine(s).

All in all, HOWEVER, I’m the picture of perfect health…
Well, one ALTERNATIVE version of good health…
Okay, someone’s (a much unhealthier individual’s) ideal version…
Well maybe not their ideal version, but I might be their: “I’ll get
to that on my way to IDEAL HEALTH” motivational imagery tool…
Frankly, I know that my level of health is the envy most chronically terminally ill folks…

Well, there. I think we can all agree on that last point- Aim high, playa’s!!!

But seriously, Don’t you wish your girlfriend was HOT like me???
Don’t cha?

Everything's coming up roses

I'm in Dallas at a conference. I'm wearing clean underwear. I had to take a trolley to the mall in order to have clean underwear. Here's why:

Monday afternoon I gleefully finished work early and headed home to finish packing and be on my way to my conference in Texas. At the airport everyone was abuzz talking about getting in the air before the thunderstorms came. Once on the runway, we were told that due to thunderstorms in D.C. and that we would not take off for an hour. But we did take off after about 5 minutes because they ok'd a different route. D.C. looked pretty ominous, and getting to the tarmac was a little frightening. There were lightening strikes everywhere, loud booms, and lots of rain (generally my favorite state of weather). We weren't allowed onto the ramp because of the weather and thus sat on the runway for an hour. When we finally got cleared to go inside it was a madhouse. No flights were leaving for at least another hour. In fact, planes that had been circling had to be diverted to Baltimore to get fuel because it was so bad.

Everytime I looked at the screen my flight got later and later, until at 10:30pm they actually put us on the plane and said we would leave by 11. Unfortunately, every pilot that had been allowed to land at the airport had "timed-out" and thus there was no pilot to fly us (what's a little speed I say!). So we were taken off the plane and reticketed for the next morning.

I slept with my head on a restaurant table for two hours between 2 and 4 am. (Because it was so late when they took us off the plane and my flight was so early I had no choice but to not call ML and DL for a couch to sleep on)

I did manage to leave D.C. and get to Dallas by 8am and on to my hotel. My bag, however, did not. Being more concerned about the credits I need to renew my certification I went to my conference. That afternoon I made the fatal mistake of calling to check on my bag and heard the dispiriting words: "We have not seen your bag since you checked it". Needless to say, being a generally emotional person AND being exhausted, I started to cry. Actually it was sobbing. Nearly hysterically. My lovely wife talked me down from the ledge and encouraged me to try and sleep and/or go to the mall and buy some necessities.

Then an extraordinary thing happened (no, my bag did not magically appear): there was a knock at the door and in walked a hotel staffer with a dozen pink roses addressed to me. My very thoughtful wife sent me flowers and it actually made everything better (well, it didn't make my underwear clean, but I felt better!) I had to cry a little more (because it was so sweet) and then I felt more relaxed and more able to deal with the situation in an adult-like matter.

And I'm pretty sure that the roses are also responsible for the fact that my bag has in fact been found and they are delivering it within the hour. I'll believe it when I see it, but until then I'll just hang out with my roses.

Thanks baby! ILY!

Br%#@fast ???

Katy is away.
When the cat is away- as they say- the (er... um...)
"other cat" will play.
In my case, "playing" involves not cleaning and eating shit I would normally be too embarrassed to eat in front of other humans.

This morning on the phone I confessed to my wife the contents of my "breakfast sandwich." I initially required a promise that she keep this "our little secret." But when she guessed the thrown-together recipe (by remembering what was left over in our refrigerator) minus one ingredient*, I realized I must not hide these "embarrassing" meal/snacks from my peeps all that much. We had a good laugh at:
a) How well she knows the contents of our 'frige, and
b) The nasty foods i throw together in an effort to satisfy my insatiable salt-sweet cravings.

Now here it is, Your moment of zen...

Breakfast June 21, 2006:
Left-over Asian pork tenderloin, peanutbutter, and Doritos*
on a toasted English muffin.

*I think kt would have guessed the Doritos too if they were in the pantry when she left :)

Father's Day

Happy Father's day to all you pater's out there!

Mid-June Slump

Why no posts in a while? It's just that work is busy... softball has started... summer is coming... we're trying to clean the house... trying to spend time with eachother... trying to get the garden going... trying to keep up with the lawn... don't know what to write...
so we'll wait for inspiration...
:)