Thursday, December 29, 2005


I've been staring at this blank screen for several days now. I don't know what to tell you, mostly because nothing has changed and it somehow doesn't feel right writing "nothing's changed". I got my car back, and put it back in the shop, then got it back, but it's going back in. I did the New Year's Eve shopping today- Domain Ste. Michelle Cuvee Brut and an aged Padron Churchill Maduro. The old tradition involved a Black Lab. The new tradition is raw. Last year someone said, "Good lord! Jolly good. Four foot one? Well that... that... that is a long time, isn't it?" This year someone will say, "Son, you got a panty on your head."

This is painful...

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Merry Christmas

The tree at Mom's house.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

Such a lovely present arrived on my doorstep this evening. Not so much the present, but the many included pictures of the author since it's well known, my abiding love of Ms De Laurentiis. Now I'll be cooking all sorts of Everyday Italian goodies and sauces. (and the villagers rejoiced and praised her name - yay Mimi!)

As long as I'm thinking about Christmas, I'm thinking maybe it's time to update the lyrics to The Christmas Song. What with people generally living longer these days, I don't think it's fair to withhold wishing someone lucky enough to live longer than 92 years a merry Christmas. Screw kids less than one though.

Since tomorrow is the first full day of winter, I can now officially complain about it. The worst thing? Chilly willy.

And as I slowly slide off topic, Tinyhands reminds you it's time to change those air & water filters!

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Waiting in Vain

I am, on occasion, secondary caregiver to my 9-year-old cousin. The redheaded spitfire, I love that sweet girl SO so much and lately she's taken to throwing her arms around me and telling me that I'm the best cousin ever. *sigh*

I took care of her Thursday night while her parents were at a Christmas party. In the course of shuffling cars (I am sans l'auto, see previous entry) I dropped auntie off downtown so the kiddo and I went looking for food nearby. I talked her into my favorite Vietnamese place just south of downtown. Although the General Tso's chicken she ordered was too spicy for her, the bo luc lac was perfect as always so nobody went hungry. Leftovers rule.

The next day was only a halfday at school for her so auntie picked her up then picked me up and we dropped auntie off at another holiday lunch, leaving kiddo and I in search of lunch downtown again. What does she pick? Vietnamese. (I told you I love that child) This time it's her favorite noodle house on the east side, a funky little place with a distinctly hippie theme and pierced/tie-dyed waiters/waitresses serving the suits who venture out of the downtown sector. The kid is 9 and chopsticks are really tough for her own tiny hands (yes, we're blood-relatives), so I rolled up the chopstick wrapper and jammed it between the chopsticks while rubber-banding the blunt end together. It's a fairly common trick and you've probably seen it done if you've spent any time in an asian restaurant. The suits sitting at the next table apparently hadn't seen this trick and I could tell they were watching me and talking about it. The suits finished their lunch and as they got up to leave, one of them said to her "That's a cool trick your daddy learned with those chopsticks."

She didn't say anything to them but I just looked up and smiled. After they'd left she chuckled about it, quite amused that she'd been mistaken for my daughter. I couldn't stop my eyes from welling-up (as they're doing now) and although she didn't notice I could have easily blamed it on the spicy fish sauce.

In life I know that there is lots of grief,
But your love is my relief.
Tears in my eyes burn,
Tears in my eyes burn,
While I'm waitin',
While I'm waitin' for my turn.

Thursday, December 15, 2005


Things are so messed up, I don't know where to begin. I should probably begin by pointing out how I wasn't planning on writing anything about myself anymore. Cryptic or not, that lasted all of a week.

I'm moving backwards. [Note: I originally wrote a whole bunch of stuff here, specific examples of all the material stuff I've lost and continue to lose, and there's a lot of it ... it sounded like whining so I deleted it in editing.] I'm trying not to complain or whine about things not going the way they should. I'm trying to be a better person. I really am. I don't get mad at traffic anymore, not that I enjoy it or anything demented, but I'm working on inner peace.

But I told a whopper of a lie to someone that I really care about. We don't talk anymore, so the fact that I lied probably doesn't matter. I'm a terrible liar though. I know most people see right through me and, like most men, I can't keep it all straight so under even the most basic scrutiny I fold and reveal all. But no, I'll probably get away with this one assuming my conscience doesn't get me first. Whatever stupid justification I had for doing it is bullshit. I'm better than that and I can be better tomorrow than I am today.

I don't have a dismount for this particular gymnastic routine so I'd like to, as I so often do, use someone else's words:
"What do you care what she thinks? It is all right to care whether you hurt her or not- just do your best, (if you insist) on trying not to- then if the fact is that you are O.K., don't bother to try to argue otherwise or try to get her to tell you you are wonderful. . . . Further, if you are selfish & look only to your physical pleasure- don't try to convince yourself otherwise- or rather- don't try to explain it to her or convince her otherwise."

Wednesday, December 14, 2005


I was out tonight, watching the Rockets. My eyes are heavy and I didn't get to read all 70-something blogs today, so I'll let a little stream of consciousness out and catch up tomorrow...

This isn't how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be nervous and tenative, like it always is, but ultimately easy because once you break one rule you might as well break them all. And you could have justified breaking the rules because you both knew that there wasn't really anything of which to be afraid and you weren't compromising anything (well, anything that wasn't already compromised) and you certainly weren't hurting anything or anyone. You could say it was convenient, and maybe that's how you'd explain it to your friends. Would you prefer comfortable? They'd understand that no matter how skilled you are at picking them, one word doesn't tell the whole story. After everything everyone has been through, is going through, and will go through you told yourself not to go it alone. But, but, but. Fine, don't. As long as it's your decision and not the default option resulting from not making a decision. Or enjoy the status quo. Enjoy it, own it. Your complaints to the contrary will be heard but not understood. You must have been kissing a fool. Look it up.

*Update: Apologies to anyone who thought I was talking directly about him or her. I know I'm frequently obscure and cryptic (which I've begun to relish, by the way) and that might lead you to see your life on these pages. Truth be told (which I've also begun to relish, by the way) is that the stream of consciousness was inspired by spending a few hours with this person last night. I just twisted the perspective a bit. Mmm, relish.

Monday, December 12, 2005


Ave Maria
Gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Ave, ave dominus
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus
Et benedictus fructus ventris
Ventris tuae, Jesus.
Ave Maria

Ave Maria
Mater Dei
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Ora pro nobis
Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora mortis
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Ave Maria

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Transition period

It is a time of change.

You know what makes me laugh? I mean really full-body quivering, pee-the-briefs, gut-busting belly laugh? Stupid people. Case in point, someone at our local CBS affiliate thought that we'd rather see this woman interview Oprah "the h is silent" Winfrey than the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. That makes me laugh so hard I lose consciousness and bang my head on the coffee table. Fortunately I have HDTV and the CBS-HD channel showed the flesh, so I don't have to wait until 1:07am to watch it for the first time. (Yes, as you correctly guessed I'll be watching it for the SECOND time.)

Top Ten Failed Alternatives to The Proof is in the Pudding:
10. There's an affidavit in the pie.
 9. Angelfood cake provides the answers.
 8. Clues can be found among the lemon squares.
 7. S'mores have their reasons.
 6. Cookies will corroborate.
 5. There's evidence of fudge.
 4. Get the facts from flan.
 3. The brownies will testify.
 2. Ice cream has the scoop.
 1. The Jell-O knows the truth.

With apologies to KCTL:
Five hundred twenty five thousand, nine hundred forty eight point seven six six five six minutes
How do you really-super-accurately measure a year?