If this is global warming, then I'm all for it.

This weekend was beautiful. I ran Lunken. I opened the windows and doors as I cleaned my house. I even took Ada outside for a little bit so she could sniff around. And it's January. I don't care what those "scientists" are clamoring about. If this is what global warming can do for Cincinnati, I'm gonna start using aerosol hairspray again. Hell, I don't even use hairspray. I'll just buy it and spray it around the house. I'll buy all of my meals in carry-out stryophoam containers. I'll leave my car running in the driveway just so I can produce more exhaust. If it'll generate weather like we've been having, I might even become a Republican. I'd be willing to go that far for a warm breeze on a mid-winter day.

Or I guess I could just move to Florida.

My Water Baby

Ada finally won her battle to get into the bathtub. She's been hopping on top of the sliding shower doors for months, threatening to make the long jump down into the tub. After barely catching her by the hind legs as she dove off one morning, I gave up. Now, we've established a new routine. When I get out of the shower, I leave the shower door open and I let her in the room. She immediately jumps into the wet bathtub and lays down, enjoying the water dripping on her and sliding past her into the drain. Frankly, it grosses me out. But somehow my amusement overwhelmed me one morning so I snapped a few pictures. She is my little water baby. I love a good shower myself, so I can hardly blame her. At least we can agree on that.

If every dream of mine actually came true,

1. Every day would be free of stress or panic or anxiety.

2. I would have an annual gig as a judge at the Sundance Film Festival.

3. I would have bikini-worthy body.

4. My dad would be free of illness and full of pep.

5. Every sole on earth would have their birthdays off from work. With pay.

6. I would have the super-power ability to fly once a week.

7. My aunt would have full use of her fingers.

8. I would have the funds to pay off my house and buy a new car and see the world and take care of my family and end world hunger and end world poverty and ... and ... and ... well, you get the point.

9. I would be in lasting love with someone who loves me in return.

10. My cat would stop jumping on the countertops.

11. I would have the guts to move to a far-off land and work for a few years and experience a new culture.

12. My mother would not worry about a single thing for the rest of her life.

13. Will and Donna would have that fancy log home of theirs in Colorado and I would be so well-funded that I could fly myself and the rest of you all out there to visit any time we did so choose.

14. I, rather than George Bush, would represent the Planet Earth in an InterUniverse Conference.

Another one bites the dust...

Well, I got pulled into my boss's office this afternoon to receive some nasty little news. Athan has put in his two week's notice. Damn it! I fought back tears. I fought them back hard, biting my lip and staring at the floor. Here we go again - losing another fantastic employee, co-worker, friend to the development world.

I feel like over the last several months all I've been doing is stepping up to new challenges. One after the other after the other. The moment I think I've climbed to steady ground, that steady ground falls out from under me. I guess that's the game of life - searching for stability.

I wish Athan good luck. I know I'll see him around. I'll just miss racing over to his cube in a furry and snapping into a story, "Get this! ..." I'll miss his dry humor and his quiet ways. I'll miss his flurry of sneezes as the only signs that he's actually in the building. And I'll miss his advice. God, will I miss that.

All good things come to an end to make room for some new good things.

There's really only Yes

When you look closer, nothing goes away.
It changes, see, like night becomes day and day the night.
But even that's not true.
It's really all about your point of view,
depending on where you are standing on the earth.
And in the end, it simply isn't worth your while to try to clean your life away.
You can't.
For everything you do is saved there. Forever.
It leaves evidence.
In fact it's really only common sense -
there's no such thing as nothing. Not at all.
It may be really very, very small,
but it's still there.
In fact I think I guess that No does not exist.
There is only Yes.

(From Yes, the motion picture.)

Do you ever have absolutely NOTHING to say?
That's me.
I've got nothing.

A Eulogy for a Eulogy

This weekend I went to a funeral of a close family member. Well, close in terms of blood relation, but nothing else. Rather than having a Catholic mass, the funeral was held at the funeral home. As the service started it became clear immediately that it was going to be a bad one. The preacher wandered from topic to topic, grasping at bits of information the children of the deceased had told him and elaborating on those bits of information as if to make some sense of life passed. It was awful. Rambling. Meaningless. In fact, most of what he said wasn't even true.
After the service thankfully came to a close, we climbed in the car to head home. As the car doors slammed shut, my dad turned to my mother and stated very emphatically that at his funeral he wants an honest eulogy. He wants someone who actually knew him in life to speak for him. He wants people to say that, "yeah, he could be an anti-social, moody, jerk, but in general he was a pretty decent person." I couldn't agree more. It seems like a funeral should be an acknowledgement of a life, whatever that life may have been. It should be both an acceptance of the life led and an acceptance of the life ending. It should be honest. Anything less than that is inappropriate and disrespectful, not only to the person deceased but to the lives that person touched.

Hello, I'm Johnny Cash

Okay, so I'm not Johnny Cash. I was just using that as I title. You know, for effect. Just forget it.

I saw Walk the Line again last night. I don't normally see movies in the theater twice, since it's a waste of money and all. But, Walk the Line is a fabulous movie. Some hard-core Cash fans complain that it simplifies Cash's robust complexity to simply a man who couldn't live without his June. I say to those people "Lighten up!". Do you want to watch a movie or do you want to watch a documentary? I think that the writer/director made a great move in selecting one aspect of Cash's life and humanity to focus on. If he hadn't, the movie would have been too sprawling, too directionless. The love story between Johnny Cash and June Carter, as portrayed by this movie, is beautiful and raw and real and powerful. And I've gotta hand it to Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon. They were outstanding. Go see the movie. And if you can't get in to that one, go see Brokeback Mountain. That's worth a look, too. But it doesn't have nearly the happy ending.

If Only I Were Good With Numbers

Well, I just got home from my first (though, technically my second) public meeting as the project presenter. Our project was passed, but I don't feel good about my performance. I was nervous. Noticeably so. And when I first started speaking, my mouth was dry making the words hard to form. I said unintelligable and unremarkable things. But, the longer I stood up at the podium, the more comfortable I felt. Unfortunately, I also felt comfortable enough to run at the mouth a bit, saying things that normal, professional people would never say. Ugh. My stomach hurts. I did have a couple of triumphs - I was able to produce a document that I could not possibly have been expected to carry with me. And I was able to explain the erosion control measures that we will so dutifully place on the site. The low point, and it was a low point, came when I was asked to add up the parking spaces of the site on cue with no calculator. With everyone waiting in silence as I added. Deadening silence. Now, I live and die by my TI-86, so this would have been no small feat even if I had been alone in a room with all the time in the world. It was ugly. Seconds passed like minutes and I could feel my brain clouding over. Adding a few numbers and then starting over. Crap, crap, crap! Could anything worse have possibly happened?? I might as well be standing naked in front of these people. My brain hides behind my calculator like my waist hides behind control-top panty hose. It was awful. Impressively awful. Thankfully, I'll move on with our vote of approval and pray that at the next zoning meeting in one month I will be able to surpress my anxiety...and I will also remember my calculator.

Happy Birthday, Donna!

I love you! Thanks for everything. Sincerely.
And forgive me for posting your picture.

Grandma put crack in our pumpkin pie.

That's the only explanation I have for the Charlie's Angels pictures we decided to pose for on Christmas Eve. It was Jenny's idea. I was simply too weak to protest.










This is my Aunt Patti's attempt at shooting the bird with fingers that still aren't fully operational. It's okay to laugh - we sure did. Sometimes you have to make light of life's tragedies just to get by.

A Rude Awakening

I woke up early, early this morning to the sounds of gnawing, gnashing teeth. As my head surfaced from sleep, the sound became more distinctive - it was the sound of Ada chewing. Chewing at the end of my bed. What could she possibly be chewing on? As it turns out, she was chewing the strap off one of my favorite bras, rendering it absolutely useless. As I grabbed it from between her unforgiving teeth, I heard her gulp, swallowing a piece of strap. And maybe I dreamt this or maybe my cat is just this cruel, I thought I heard a little belch and a sigh of satisfaction before I faded back to dysfunctional sleep.