Looping the Hen

This is me!

This is perfect, Mamab!

From Non-Sequitur, one of the funniest comic series ever. There is one group of strips about the little girl starting her own religion; it had me in stitches for ages!

Behind the Times!

Via Mamab and Gapingvoid.com.

I keep trying to get Mamab or Tammeeee to blog, but so far no dice! Girls are umm, cool!

Images of Canada

Just a couple of pics! The first is day 2 attempting to wake up, the 2nd is an odd sculpture near the entrance to Stanley Park, and the third is G with one of the many bear sculptures in the city.

Safe and Sound

I survived. They threw everything they had at me, from bridges of terrifying height to peeing Asian children, but still I prevailed, bringing culture and couth to our neighbors in the north.

More later, as I am off to work on updating my resume (more later, don't ask yet) and playing poker.

Here is a picture of me with a buddy of mine, outside the lounge where we saw the one and only Commander Adama
in the flesh.

He's Smaller Than He Thinks

Well, I'm off to the Land of Black Squirrels for the next 7 days, but wanted to leave with an anecdote about my new adopted wannabe Cerberus.

So I took Arnold out this morning to do his thing. For those who have never met him, he is a massive 7 pounds of razor sharp teeth, a keenly developed intellect, and bulging muscles. He also doesn't much like other dogs, even those who tower over him and outweigh him by 10 to 1.

Whenever he is done, he runs back up to the door and proceeds to sit (very cutely I must add, I taught him this!) so I can take off his collar, and then we admire the day for about 10 seconds before I let him in. At which point he usually bolts across the house until he is back within 5 feet of Tammy. I am convinced Arnold thinks he has a small explosive capsule buried in his brain which will detonate if he spends more than 7 minutes away from his mother.

Anyway, this morning, something came up that was infinitely more important. The raging ball of fur decided he needed to pick a fight with the largest dog in the complex, a 150-lb monster Great Dane. (To be completely honest, I don't really know whether it was a Great Dane, but he was huge and could easily have fit Arnold under his tongue like a furry cough drop) About 2 seconds after I took the leash off, Arnold spots Frankendane and is gone before I knew what happened, across our little creek and vigorously assaulting the much larger and scarier looking dog while it's owner is holding it with both hands to prevent it from killing the little gnat yapping at it.

It was very much like those nature shows where the itty-bitty badger is fighting off a grizzly. It is a good thing Arnold is more scared of me than of massive mountains of teeth. I finally got between him and the Dane and chased him off for a moment. Sometimes I used to think Arnold is not the pointiest fork in the drawer, but now I know it. He kept making these huge sweeping runs to try to get around me and to his prey, yapping fiercely the whole time. The lady was pretty nice about the whole thing, and managed to get her dog back to her house, while I finally scared Arnold back to my front door.

Thinking back, I am pretty sure the Dane was actually more curious about the tiny creature engaging it than intent on crushing him in it's massive jaws. Anyhoo, I got a lovely twisted ankle cavorting around in my socks and work clothes, so it looks like running up in loverly British Columbia may be out. Grrr.

Anyhoo, have a great week y'all, I doubt I'll check in between the squirrels, museums, beer and whatever other amusements G has dreamed up. Back on the 8th!

I didn't want to hurt Arnold's feelings by telling his secret out on the main page. We were over at AKBar's a few weeks ago for poker and he was outside with Molly, a mild mannered grey housecat who Arnold alternately chases and runs away screaming like a little girl from.

So we were all inside and somehow Arnold got left outside in the little yard. Molly was hiding underneath the firepit tarp and we never really saw her the entire night. But apparently Arnold did; after about a minute we hear a loud, terrified, whining yelp as he scratches at the door. Looking outside, Molly is still not in any way visible (or threatening him in any manner) and he is squealing like the 2nd to last girl left alive in a zombie movie.

Sorry Arnold, I couldn't help it.

The Jowls of a Bloodhound

I had hoped that perhaps the pictures taken while I was contemplating my impending death would show my more noble side. Alas, that is not to be. It is horrible to say, but the roll of 24 images taken of me are perhaps the most peculiar images known to mankind.

I'm actually kind of lucky. I was going to post a new Dork Tower cartoon I found, but the pictures of me are, as far as I can tell, infinitely funnier.

Just one for tonight, and maybe the better of the group. Tomorrow I will post some of the truly horrid ones for your entertainment. Tammy has been in tears laughing at them for 2 days already. Thanks honey.

Gravity Check!

Up until now, I haven't really given my upcoming skydiving experience much thought. It was just something I was going to do, and one of those "must-do's" to have a complete life! (Like that Tim McGraw song says!) Now that it is 2 days away I'm getting knots in my stomach and my hands sweat when I think about it. I just hope I don't clutch the plane door like a kitten trying to squrim his way out of a bath or scream like a little girl (no offense intended to little girls).

I know it is in my blood somewhere, as both Dad and Tom were Airborne in the army. And I know it is one of the safer crazy activities I might try, as the place where I am jumping has had over 25,000 jumps and not once has gravity won (knock on wood and say a little prayer). My boss, an ex-Green Beret, says the odds of dying jumping out of a plane is about 1 in 100,000, so I'm better off doing it than driving. Still, a little part of me wonders what I was thinking!

Anyhoo, T minus 43 hours and counting.

Mmm...Cheese...

Be nice and help out Mamab and her hubby and vote for their cheese shop for bestest food in Nashville! Just click the 'vote' buttons over on the right; danke!

Although it'd be hard to top their Pizza Shop's pizza...it is suck on the olive oil good!!

Summer 2006 – Fireworks, Gravity Test, Girlfriend

This summer looks to be one of the more interesting of my life! July 3 I will take my life in my hands and jump out of an airplane with a friend of mine. (And y’all thought I was kidding!). It’s a little scary, a lot exciting, though those emotions may reverse roles by the time I reach the plane. It’s going to be a tandem jump, meaning an instructor will actually be the one with the parachute and the jumpees don’t really have any responsibilities other than to fall, scream and land. Mom, you didn't hear this!

At the beginning of August G-Max I will be going to Vancouver for a week. It will be my first out of country trip, so it is also very exciting. They have a fireworks display contest that I am very much looking forward to, and we should be able to make it to two shows.

I’d also like to make it a point to run a road race in every country I visit, but the only one I can find on the dates I am there is 10k (6.1 miles, my normal races are half that), so I’ll make sure to bring a copy of Chariot’s of Fire to get me all the way through. Gibb and Serira, it looks like I will be coming into and leaving out of Seattle, so if y’all’d like to catch a drink or dinner on August 1, let me know!

I must also brag on my newly acquired Girlfriend, one of only two to ever not make me completely insane (yet? JK Hunny!). Yay! Although I must say, I think she makes me ditzy instead. I know G-Max has mentioned my legendary forgetfulness and lack of common sense here, but it mostly went away when I moved to TN. In the 2 months or so since Tammy and I have been dating, I feel like I have reverted to the old days.

Last weekend while trying to open a movie I stabbed myself with a steak knife and almost needed stitches. Mucho blood and unpleasantness. We were at the park (yes, that park) a few days later and I had just finished my run and was catching up to Tammy. I keep my car key in my inner pocket of my running shorts so I don’t lose it. Well, by the time I caught up with her I was thinking, crap, where is my key? So we start walking back the way I had run from, looking on the ground for my key. We got about a quarter of a mile and my brain was trying to tell me something, because I swore I remembered feeling my key on my run. Seems I got distracted as I was getting my key out and had dropped it in my shorts, where it was settled snugly. Ugg.

The absolute worst happened this past weekend. So I was taking a shower and umm, something (someone?) seemed to distract me. When we got out of the shower I noticed it wasn’t draining, and figured someone’s much longer hair than mine had clogged it. I had some Drano handy and poured it all in, and it didn’t work. Uh oh, I thought, bad clog, definitely not my fault! This was the day of the big Poker Tourney’s I mentioned last week, so I figured I would go out after them if I needed to. Figuring I didn’t want to take any chances, I went to Lowe’s and picked up both a plunger and a pipe snake. After over 2 hours of fiddling with both, still no dice. Part of me was thinking of a big man with a crack in my bathroom charging me $200 to fix my plumbing. I go out again to Walmart and pick up 3 different kinds of Drano stuff. Nothing could survive the upcoming barrage of flesh-eating base I was about to pour down my drain!

So I pour a big ole 64oz bottle of generic Drano in and go back to play some more poker while it works, hoping the fumes don't make it to my bedroom and render me unconscious. Two more hours go by and nothing. I was about to crack open a 2nd bottle while I was staring in dismay at my tub, the plunger, empty bottles, and my pipe snake. And something clicked, and ghastly I turned toward the faucet (Ode to G-Max). Sure enough, my drain thing was closed. I am the Stupidest. Person. Ever. Of course the drain opener stuff had carved little black holes into my beautiful stainless steel. Ugg. And ugg again I tell you! Tammy, I’d like my brain back any time now, thanks!

Anyhoo, this has gone way too long! Other minor things going on include a Little People Pre-release on July 1, and my first race of the summer on Independence Day, where I will try to help motivate a friend into finishing her first race. (Spy) Other than that, I was just thinking of streaking through the park.

So...

A former governor, a Saudi prince and a country music star walk into a bar...

No, actually, not much of a joke. I was privileged to attend a function this past Tuesday for Saudi Prince Turki al-Faisal, ambassador to the United States. It was put on by the Strategic Alliance, a Texas-based PR firm headed by Meredith Iler, a prominent Republican. They appear to be trying to reduce the generally negative view of Saudi Arabia after the 9/11 attacks.

There were about 70 to 80 prominent members of Nashville society there (mostly Republican from what I could tell), from bank presidents to Fortune 500 board members. The food was superb and prepared by a local restaurant owner. I'm usually not much for fancy-schmancy hordeurves and such, but they were exceptional. (Although the sweet white wine I was enjoying may have contributed to my positive overall experience!)

Best anecdote: My lovely girlfriend came over and said 'I was over there and saw this woman with Crystal Gayle hair...and then she turned around and I saw her name tag. It was Crystal Gayle.' I had seen Ms. Gayle earlier in the evening but I wasn't sure it was her, as she was shorter than I would have guessed!

Other than the fact that I would have liked to argue with the ambassador, it was an enjoyable event. At one point he insisted that all Israel had to do to gain peace in the Middle East is to give up half of Jerusalem to the Palestinians. We've seen how well giving up land to terrorists has worked so far (Read: not at all, unless you count letting people shoot rockets at you from closer as a win)

You never know...

For Bethany and Tammy. Maybe I really am him.

Shhhh....secrets ahead...

Dad, Tom, potential employers and anyone else with a weak stomach, please be warned you should probably skip this post. Ribald humor ahead thanks to the literary Lady MacBethany.

So silly me mentioned on Monday that he might have a secret or two to share with Tammy (On Friday when I saw her again). Of course, I did not realize that this would bring forth two dark women dressed in bishop's robes claiming to be part of the New Episcopalian Inquisition.

I told TL that I would always answer any question she put to me, so she has been working diligently to ask me a veritible cornucopia of off-beat questions that might be the answer to the elusive secret I keep so well. I think I have answered at least 70 questions in the last 48 hours ranging from the relatively benign (Are you germaphobic?) to the unsure (Are you still obsessed with the little redhead?) to the farfetched (Which I won't repeat because I really do want to work for the next 20 years, for those potential employers who might find their way here...I hope you think this is amusing and showing much creativity!)

Doing my best to answer all the questions completely honestly hasn't been satisfying for the 'Out, out, damn spot!' crowd, and thus the MamaB Conspiracies are born. So far we have nearly two score of possible skeletons in my closet...you decide which you believe! (Big hat tip to MamaB, she had me in hysterics with some of these)

1. you have 6 months to live, and you need to plant your seed to continue your lineage.

2. the real reason you run is if you slow down, the implanted bomb in your brain will explode.

3. you have a partially absorbed conjoined twin that tells you to do evil things.

4. the wee folk on your shelf do the same.

5. you see dead people.

6. you make dead people.

7. you are the one true prophet, and need to assemble an arsenal, seven wives, and a compound in texas by uesday.

8. there is no big secret, this was just an exercise to keep bethany busy because lord knows she gets a kick out of it and has nothing better to do God bless her.

9. one of your parents was an alien, and not just the illegal kind, and now the government wants to cut you open, film it in a seedy, grainy quality and post it on the internet (so they can laugh at all the wackos).

10. your blog contains some kind of mind control mechanism that makes hot chicks want to have sex with you, only the hot chicks are actually chickens, and who are you not to oblige them?

11. you are only dating tammy to get in the coffee loop.

12. you are only dating tammy to get closer to tarpy.

13. you are a writer for 24 and you won't tell us how it's going to end, you bastard.

14. you secretly watch lost, and are dying to share your opinions on the hatch and giddily discuss the last time sawyer had his shirt off.

15. lorin is your maiden name.

16. you downloaded instructions on how to make your own penis enlargerwith things you have around the house, and something went horribly awry (and you need a new vacuum cleaner).

17. you really are a certified bikini inspector.

18. you only like the creamy centers of oreos, and have a closet full of just the chocolate cookies.

19. you only like the chocolate cookies, and use the creamy filling to make sculptures of unicorns that you sell on ebay.

20. you don't like oreos at all, do you, you picky little freak?

21. tiny, whom you met while doing time at sing-sing for a crime you didn't commit, is getting out on monday, and he wants his b**** back.

22. you put the bang in the bang-sha-bang-sha-bang.

23. you put the "oooo" in petunia.

24. you won the lottery, but are ashamed to admit the pot was only up to 27 dollars.

25. the guy in the picture on your fridge isn't just a runner, he's the clone in a compound in tempe, arizona you paid millions for in case your ticker gives out. you call him justin case.

26. you are plagued by multiple personalities that include liberaci, alf, and a member of a mexican mariachi band (who all tell you to do evil and slightly gay things).

27. there's a part of your body that grows when you lie, but you aren't telling. (because that's not lying.)

28. before your current employment, you spent a large part of your day saying "b****, where's my money!"

29. you are dying to get off your chest the reason you are no longer allowed to set foot in an episcopalian church (and also a particular mexican supermarket in east bumf*** texas).

30. you have tapped into my dirty little secret-- it's fun to mess with tammy's head.

31. you really are the juggernaut, b****
!
32. you found jesus-- he was behind the couch the whole time! (okay, that one's not mine, but still funny, nonetheless.)

33. you have a gun, and will travel.

34. your OCD forces you to do the macarena (twice, once backwards) before entering or leaving the room.

35. you enjoy public displays of....yourself; particularly while on public transportation, or over by the convent....

Gaming friends one didn't pick on...

My friends love to pick on me for my hobbies. Good-naturedly of course. Well, except in the case of those who feel my time would be better spent growing up *cough*...but enough of that!

Many years ago, I guess around 11 or 12 (may have been as early as '92), I met a couple folks playing cards at a little shop in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. (Magic the Gathering to be precise) Definitely not your picture of average gamers, as they both were as comfortable in a bar fight as at a gaming convention. If we could have figured out how they could do both, they probably would have.

Ed had (and by the looks of his Myspace, still has), a huge vocabulary of 4 letter words. Still, there are no people (except for maybe Eric) that I would rather have been with walking the streets of New York City at 2am (and we did that at least a dozen times or more). If they said 'I got your back', they meant it, come hell or high water.

Ed is a little older than I am while Rod a little younger. When I first went exploring Myspace, I noticed the dearth of folks over thirty, so I never thought to look for either there, though I have Googled them once in a while. Just on an off chance, I looked up one late last week, and through his friends list, found them both. They are both in Maryland doing well!

Meet Rod.

Meet Ed.

Good to see y'all again! I think I may relate the tale of the burning couch later...I bet Rod remembers that one!

Aaaargghhh!

Our bowling team for Junior Achievement. Yes, I am there in the back!

Our name was the Washbucklers (because our main fundraiser for the last 2 years has been a car wash), but only very few people knew what a Swashbuckler was. Sometimes I'm too subtle for my own good! But yes, we did win Best Costume.

Why I have the best friends ever...

I can't believe I missed this for 8 days, I'm such a bad person! You should have told me you were going to be a blogger!

I may meet some new people now and again missy, but I don't ever forget where I come from. Thank you for everything, you're one in a gazillion!

T, Flying.

A Bunny's Prayer

It's been a while since I've mentioned how much I love my life, simple as it is. Sunday evening is my favorite time of the week; all brilliant sunset of gold and crimson with a touch of bittersweet as I prepare myself for the six days ahead. It is also the time I reflect on the days behind me. It consists of 5 hours that are perfectly, peacefully mine. The laundry is done, the house is (reasonably) clean, my body is still warm from a few miles running in the park. The world may be spinning, but I don't know it. It is just me, Shakira, and the words on my monitor.

And the week behind is as good as it gets...nothing monumental happened; I didn't win the lottery or inherit a fortune or win an olympic medal. But still it was near perfect. I ran more than 10 miles (in a week) for the first time in 15 years, including a race where they fed me a Nutty Buddy and Pasta Alfredo afterward. I hung out and played poker with some great friends, and then played D&D with some other great friends. I even made a new one.

I got a raise. I lost a pound. I got my car waxed. I started on my tan. I finished a funny novel, watched a couple of movies, and discarded some junk that was cluttering up my life. I took a chance. I started helping my dad and step-mom with a project I should've helped them with 3 months ago. I conversed with a girl with hypnotic eyes and made some new goals that have me hopeful about tomorrow, and many tomorrows after that. I smiled. A lot. And did some laughing to.

It's not much, but I offer this up as my little Easter Prayer, and I thank God for His Son who rose today, and for every little thing that makes my life sublime and perfect.

I know many don't know it, and for all who don't, it doesn't take anything to have a wonderful life except believing you have a wonderful life, being thankful for every little thing, and doing one's best to ignore the snags. Start something. Take a chance. Kiss your husband or wife or significant other and thank them for being there every day. Try something new. Remember something old. Hug your mom if you can. Shed a tear, or a few, but not bitter ones. Live.

(And when all else fails, promise a spy you'll go skydiving with them.)

The Gang!

I haven't put up any pics in a while, so here goes! All taken by WCB I think except for the first.

The Gang on our average poker night: Me, Bebop, AKBar, WCB, TG, Ron, April's Forehead, Thugly, Gribble, Brian and James.

Me just after the Frostbite 5k I hated so much:

AKBar and WaCBar (CCE!):

And Bebop! (She calls this flirting...):

Enjoy and hope I don't offend anyone!;)

A Sweet Fondue

I hadn't really intended not to post anything this week, especially as I had my first two days off since December! They were ultra-relaxing, and I spent them cleaning, playing poker, gaming, helping an old friend, and in general being very happy.

Last night Bebop and Thugly took me out to The Melting Pot, a local favorite and winner of numerous Nashville dining awards (Most Romantic and Best Date Spot included!). All I can say is wow. Actually, I can say a bit more, but I didn't really know what I thought of fondue, other than the one fudge fondue my Mom made for my 6th grade French class (it was the best food there!). I'm not sure why, as two foods I could live on are cheese and chocolate!

We were served a four-course meal, starting with chedder fondue with bread, apples (surprisingly good for dipping!) and veggies. The 2nd course was a salad. I picked Mushroom more due to the lack of a Caesar than anything else. It was definitely not what I expected, however it was tres yummy. The mushrooms were fully half of the salad, with greens being the other half. They were thin cut, good consistency (normally my complaint about mushrooms), and came with a tart Italianesque dressing. I added fresh pepper and a sweet garlic and wine spice that I used for most of the meal.

Next was the main course, and we had picked the Mojo style (really called that!) for our dipping/cooking. To be honest, I didn't really know it was for cooking our food until after they brought out two pounds of raw meat, fish, and chicken! It was a luxuurious citronella/cajun combination that combined the sweet/spicy flavor that seemed to be the theme for the evening. I loved it, but I think we all agreed that by the time we were done we would have liked to try some different flavors.

The dessert fondue was exquisite and nearly caused some diabetic comas at the table. We chose a milk chocolate (at my urging) over some of the alternate choices. To dip we had brownies (yumm!), pound cake, bananas (blech!), strawberries, and two types of marshmellows, one covered in graham cracker bits and the other in chocolate.

The whole meal took a bit over two hours, and was worth every minute. I left stuffed, and I think my compatriots shared my opinion.

Best. Meal. Ever. 5 Stars, and one I will take my Mom to next time she is in town!

A Call from the Blue

Received an email and phone call from an old, dear friend today needing some help. Could've knocked me over with a feather. Life is funny sometimes.

I'm too sexy for my shirt...

AKBar and I went to Old Navy yesterday prior to the Mad Dance Excursion to Bar Nasvhille last night; I needed to find a green shirt to wear for St. Patrick's Day. I hesitantly bought a pair of 34x32's (jeans) also (she picked them out, of course!), as some folks have been mentioning that a fair bit of my clothes are looking a little loose. The changing rooms were closed for remodelling or some such, so I had to take them on faith. Happily, they fit perfectly and (I think) look good, and I will be downsizing the rest of my wardrobe for the 2nd time in the last 12 months. I might even need to get a couple of new pics done! I still would like to drop one more size, and that would (unbelievably) put me back into what I was wearing in high school. Go me!

It was one of the best nights out I have had in many years, thanks to my tres cool crew (and the cage/bar dancers didn't hurt). I am typically a wallflower, but there is something about having 3 hot girls pulling one out to dance that is infinitely more inviting than the worry of how foolish I probably look. The only bad part is I missed my race this morning due to a blindingly painful charlie horse that had me unable to think for several minutes; I'm guessing it was a combination of exertion and umm, err, dehydration. C'est la vie.

The Great Hendersonville Crime Spree

Hendersonville is a town very much like Madison, CT or Old Saybrook near where I grew up (I went to HIgh School in Old Saybrook). Slightly upscale, residents very sure of their place in society, good schools; generally a strong middle/upper middle population.

I live in a town, coincidentally, called Madison, TN. It is more like Branford/East Haven. Some good areas, some rough areas, lots of businesses, shopping, and commerce. Generally also (so I've heard) a higher level of crime. In fact, several of my friends regularly refer to my area of town in less than flattering terms. (To be honest, though, Akbar and WCB have every right to, as he was carjacked there)

Thus, one could say I was mildly perturbed when I walked out of AKBar's house in Hendersonville Friday night after Battlestar Galactica to find my car gone from where I parked it. At first I thought it was a joke and someone had grabbed my keys and moved it. I had parked it on the median of their cul-de-sac, on a fairly good decline. In a last ditch attempt to locate my vehicle, I started pushing the unlock button on my alarm. (it has a range of several hundred yards) Much to my surprise, my vehicle was at the bottom of the hill, in front of someone's garage, surrounded by a crowd of people, including a police officer.

Ugg.

As I approached, the officer told me to turn around and he started with the questions. Your car? Yep. Drinking? A couple. You realize your car ran into this person's house? Errr, nope. I tried to remain friendly and keep my humor, which seemed to work, as he lightened up. All this time, all I can see is the back of my car, and horrid images of a crumpled plastic front end ran through my head. I finally got to take a look: *deep sigh of relief*. The damage was minor; my front end was nicked and scraped, a few hood scratches, damage to the rear quarter panel of the other car in the driveway, and several broken bricks on the garage. He shines the light in the car, and the parking brake is definitely engaged. We try to push it. Nada, not moving.

Best as my friends and I could come up with is someone tried to jack my car by popstarting the clutch, ended up failing, the wheel lock kicked in, car rolls at almost a 45 degree angle (that's the hardest part for me to visualize, because the driveway it was in was at a heckuva angle to where I started), bumps the garage, taps the rear quarter panel of the other car with a tire, and rolls back to a rest. Evildoer then has to climb over my seat to get out of the vehicle, because my car was literally no more than 6 inches away from the Camaro next to me. (The mirrors were within 2)

According to the timing that we put together, this happened within 15-20 minutes of me going into the house, and the cop said he had been there at least an hour and had just called the tow truck and was about to put out a hit-and-run notice for me. Double ugg. I am very lucky I was trying to get to bed for my race in the morning, because otherwise I would never have left the house to find out what had happened. I'm not really sure why no one knocked on any doors looking for the owner of the car, but hey, that's just me.

To be honest, the whole thing could have been much, much worse. It was a pretty fancy piece of driving (see below) that kept both vehicles and the house more or less intact. Still, I'll be happy to remind my friends to lock their cars and hide their cats lest they fall prey to the Great Hendersonville Crime Spree.

At least every 30 days...

I have to do something to embarrass myself. Thus tonight I found myself in kick-boxing class, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Your average paraplegic has better moves than I do. Still, it got my heart rate up, and I did it after 40 minutes on the elliptical, so my huge Japanese Steakhouse dinner didn't make me feel quite so guilty! It is my friend ****'s birthday, and it is one of his and his girlfriends favorite places. (His GF is Bebop, who used to work for me many years ago)

Anyhow, Happy Birthday Thug! Since he is one of the two people I know who watch Galactica (used to be the only one until I finally converted G-Max), I thought this would be a good b-day pic, (plus I haven't put up any sexy pics lately).

See AKBar, I'm not that nerdy!

I have proof!

Now my girl Jess? Much, much nerdier!

Sometimes people just don't get gamers...

Courtesy of AKBar, who kindly put this up on our department white board yesterday after I brought in some D&D Miniatures *G*:

My, what a sexy profile you have...

Gibb, I never knew!

The dodo asks for forgiveness, years late

So many people hear the words, "I am sorry", and just barely count the syllables. I know it is true for me also. It is a phrase that often carries no meaning because of the thousands of times it is said without meaning.

Too often the values of the wronged carry no worth to the causer of pain, and thus the 'I am sorry' comes out like a false truism (I mean it because I said it), or out of rote. The instigator's faults are two in that situation. First, he has said something he may or may not truly mean, often without even thinking about why he is sorry. (How many times do we say we are sorry without really knowing why another person is upset?) Second he assumes or doesn't really care whether the other party will accept the words as sufficient to cause them to reciprocate with grace (different than Grace) and forgiveness. Thus the phrase decreases in potency.

However, in some cases, the belief of the wronged is of paramount importance, such as when we hurt family, friends, or lovers and want to heal the wounds we have caused. So what is one to do when the belief of another person rests on the hollowness of our meager language and those three words? How often do we accept an 'I am sorry' when deep inside, we really don't, either because of a lack of agreement on what the issue is or because we believe someone is insincere?

Repentance, as I understand it, is slightly different, and perhaps a more advanced starting point in requesting someone's forgiveness. It involves not only an understanding of the wrong committed, but a change of heart that will (with sufficient strength backing it) prevent said wrong from occurring again. Saying the words 'I am sorry' requires little but tongue and breath and teeth; repentance has a different kind of teeth and requires both an acknowledgement of wrongdoing and at least a touch of shame.

Nine years ago I lied to someone who meant the world to me. Not through my words, but my actions. I told her with words that I cared for her, but with my actions I did the opposite. Maybe I didn't know how to reconcile the two. Heck, maybe I still don't know how to, as I remember too many times I have said those words to someone, but did not reinforce them with actions.

There is nothing I can do to change the past, but perhaps there is hope in the future. When I tell her I am sorry, I want to show her I mean it, not just say the words. Because even though I still find myself with some unsorted jumble of feelings, I am also a different person.

I hope she likes that person well enough that we can still be friends.

I want her viewpoint, her voice, her boot-stomping bitch routine, and her rare, random vulnerability to be a part of my life. I want her to someday trust me again, and I want the dodo to be redeemed in her eyes and not be used against anyone.

I found this poem, Two Lonely Dragons, looking for something charming with ‘dodo’ in it to close with; it’s a children’s poem and probably more silly than charming, but I think it fits and it made me smile; maybe it will her too (though I don’t know how she will feel being called Droopy):

Dodo's the name of a dragon who lived
Outside a castle of stone
But he was never invited inside,
So he was always alone.

One day he snorted and flames sprouted forth
High in the blue summer sky,
Writing a message in smoke rings it read:
"Oh, how very unhappy am I."

Now this was noticed some distance away
By Droopy Dragon, who knew
Just how alone one poor dragon could be
When there was nothing to do.

Droopy set off where the smoke rings appeared
For he was anxious to see,
Whether another poor creature could possibly be
Quite so unhappy as he.

Dodo was staggered when Droopy arrived,
Rubbing his sleepy green eyes.
He didn't know other dragons, you see,
And it was such a surprise.

Two dragons meeting is such an event
That it took only a while,
Till they were friendly and learning again,
How to make jokes with a smile.

Then Droopy took Dodo home right away,
Far from the castle of stone,
Where he was never invited inside,
Where he was always alone.

And ever after they lived happily,
For it was so much more fun,
Sharing a home, where both dragons agreed,
Two is much better than one!

I am sorry, Jess, and I pray you will forgive me. A dodo is as a dodo does.

I must say...

That I have always been blessed by friends I can't possibly deserve, whether across town or across the country. They put up with my emotional dyslexia fairly regularly, and generally laugh with, instead of at, me.

AKBar's husband truly does not understand the meaning of 'doing things small.' I told him I wanted to get a couple of pictures to put up on my blog, send to my mom, and maybe for profiles on a singles site or two. I figured hey, an even dozen would be plenty.

We spent an entire day taking pictures. (BTW, pictures at the best of times scare me. Pictures, in general, are evil) At his townhouse, at Starbuck's (the cute boo-impersonating manager tried to shoo us off), at a park, at a farm, and finally, at a boat ramp with the indelicate name of 'Stark Knob.' By the time we kicked off our shoes and got ready for dinner, he had with great patience and skill, managed just short of 300 pictures. Umm...what? 300 pictures? Yep. The equivalent of 10+plus rolls of film. I kept something on the order of 200 pictures of me, a dozen of my car, and an awesome shot of a couple of hens I hope AKBar will help me transform into another logo. I'll put a couple or three up once a week or so.

I am sad that I will never be able to even show off the full expertise he has in digital photography as I have to resample them to put up (plus the fact that his non-photogenic subject matter got weirded out anytime more than 3 pictures were taken in any particular pose or location). The base images produced by his Canon EOS 20D (tell me if I got that wrong WCB) are something like 8-megapix and for the most part weigh in at over 3500x2500 pixels and 3.0 megabytes.

Anyone who can make my newly visible laugh-lines (and holy crud, look at all that gray hair!) not appear like I belong in Dawn of the Dead must have some Ansel Adams in there somewhere.

All I can say is thanks, you are unbelievable.