My Hannah

Tomorrow I will be spending a good portion of the day with my daughter(s) Hannah (and Jenna).
It’s Hannah’s 15th birthday and I’m fortunate enough to have the day off.
We’re going to see Batman in the early afternoon and having lunch at Moe’s afterwards.
Moe’s is one of her favorite places.
Awesome burrito’s, fajitas and quesadilla’s.
I won’t even mention the warm queso and chips . . .
Please leave a wish or two for my budding sophomore, okay?
Can’t wait to see Batman.
Oh, yeah, and she loves the Jonas Brothers, hence the picture.
I declined on posting a video. {you’re welcome}
Later folks . . .
Happy Birthday, Hannah!

ps. Lynn?
Call us.
Cake tomorrow night and you’re invited!

Theme Junkie

I’ve never been accused of many nasty things in the blogosphere in terms of blogging in general.
I’m a pretty easy going blogger that posts some nice stuff from time to time and
I feel I really don’t violate many “unwritten” rules.
Although, I do have moments in my life that find me a tad bit busier than I’d like.
Replying to comments and visiting folks on my blogroll tends to take a proverbial backseat, something I feel bad about but it happens to all of us at some point in time.
We do eventually get caught up.
I have, however, been subtly accused (and not so subtly accused) of being a template junkie.
I tend to hop on any “template train” that arrives via the FireFox Station.

If you’ve visited me over the past few nights you may have seen as many as three, maybe even four template changes in less than 20 minutes.
And yes, I can hear you . . . I can hear you screaming.
The frustrated cries of despair, the arrgghhh’s the oh-shits.

“What the . . . ?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake he’s changed it again.”
“Murphy’s bi-polar, I swear, he’s bi-fucking-polar with this template crap!”
“Multiple blogging personality whackjob, I think.”

I’ve come to accept the fact that I am a veritable blogging template/theme “Sybil”.
Alright, a junkie.
I shoot these themes straight into my veins and I like it.
Love it, perhaps.
But if these dysfunctional template changes I occasionally make have caused you epileptic seizures, I apologize.
If my Vista “Segue Script” font made you kill your beloved pet, throw away that computer, blame me.
I’ll take it.
Maybe most people don’t even notice just how much I screw with my blog.
Maybe they do.
Boys will be boys, I guess.
One of these days I’m going cold turkey on this template changing thing.
I am.
Just not tonight . . .
:mrgreen:

She’s Spasmically Perfect

There are four people I want to meet in my life. (alright, there are a few more but . . . )
I want to hug them and tell them just how much they mean to me.
And yes, they are all bloggers.
Friends.
Dear friends.
Annie.
Mum.
Evyl.
Spaz.

I received an email several weeks ago from Susanne.
I really hate calling her Spaz, especially since I met her.
She’s much too pretty to call “Spaz”, IMHO.
That said, Susanne emailed me to say that she and B were going to be in Boston and wondered if a visit might happen.
I was surprised to say the very least.
It was like I’d just hit the lottery in a very unexpected way.
I told her ‘yes’ we have to meet.
It seemed almost predestined, to be honest.
I  first “met” Susanne years ago after a comment that she left on my blog.
She said it was “disturbingly beautiful”.
I just had to follow it up.
This ultimately lead to our finally meeting up, blogwise.
Her way with comments and her personal emails have inspired me to keep on writing and to believe in myself.
She’s actually made me continue writing much like my wife (who does so every single damn day).
Susanne and my wife share a striking similarity in appearance too.
Yeah, strange.
I’m a total sucker for really pretty blondes.
Our journey has been one of many splendid things, the culmination being a final meeting and a sharing of food and drink.
As Susanne said, it can never be the same after actually meeting a virtual friend.
I say it can be better.
As it currently is.
It was only for a short time that we met but I thank the good Lord that I can still “hear” her voice, feel her spirit, see her smile.
I will regret forever that our time together was all too short.
I need to start saving some money as well.
Canada is one fairly inexpensive roadtrip away.
And it’s one I will undoubtedly look forward to.
Sorry, but Mr. Smith won’t be coming along on this one, maybe in spirit . . .
Until then, Susanne . . .
be safe and be well
And take care of Chaaahlie (and B)

~m

ps. I’ve hugged one.
One down, three to go.
And Evyl? I’m hugging you dude. And no, I’m definitely not gay.

When you are a soldier

Posting this tonight for all the courageous men and women in Iraq and the world over.
Know that we pray for all of you and hope for your safe return.
I heard this song many years ago and it moved me to tears.
I’ve since found it to be a comforting song to listen to in times of need.
Sometimes I just want people to know about songs like this.
Tonight is one of those times.
I send this out to my niece Cait (I miss you dearly, kiddo)
and all those missing someone dear that is currently serving abroad.
Come home soon guys.
This song is by Steven Curtis Chapman.

*listen with headphones!

Extractions, YouTube videos and yours truly

My daughters occasionally suggest that I watch a particular video that they find outrageously funny.
More often than not, I usually agree.
In this case, I did.
I’m currently in the midst of dealing with a lower back molar that has decided to kick my ass back to TimBuk2.
It will be violently extracted from my jawbone by this time tomorrow night.
I should be quite happy by then.
Or not.
The sucker waited to speak up one day into my four days off, the phucker.
Needless to say, it’s currently a bit difficult to write nevermind blog.
As a veteran blogger, I hate to see my visitors suffer needlessly.
Enjoy the video.
It’s funny as hell.
So, when molar extractions and YouTube videos meet,
I wonder if they say, “Can I get your number?”
At any rate, the video is much funnier that I should be tomorrow morning at 9:30.
I think I tied that together rather nicely, don’t you?

Personal Best?

These are supposedly comments written on report cards by teachers from a public school in New York City.
While I can’t actually believe they are true, they are incredibly funny.
Received these through an email from my buddy Henry.
He never bothers to check the authenticity, probably why most of his emails are so damn funny.
I have a few days off from work and will be somewhat absent from the blog.
Not really going anywhere but I need some downtime.
I really do.
I’m going to try like hell to visit some folks tonight that I haven’t visited in a while.
Two blogs to maintain has left me speechless.
Head over to Moe’s to see a few interesting things from me.
In the meantime, be safe and be well.
Enjoy these comments.

1. Since my last report, your child has reached rock bottom and has started to dig.
2. I would not allow this student to breed.
3. Your child has delusions of adequacy.
4. Your son is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.
5. Your son sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.
6. The student has a ‘full six-pack’ but lacks the plastic thing to hold it all together.
7. This child has been working with glue too much.
8. When your daughter’s IQ reaches 50, she should sell.
9. The gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn’t coming.
10. If this student were any more stupid, he’d have to be watered twice a week.
11. It’s impossible to believe the sperm that created this child beat out 1,000,000 others.
12. The wheel is turning but the hamster is definitely dead.

Providence

It was August of 2005 when I wrote this post.
Since then my life has flown by me at a rate faster than a hummingbird’s wings in flight.
Labor Day weekend I’ll be moving in not one, but two daughters into college.
This will be Sarah’s senior year while Jenna will be a freshman.
Both of them are excited for a variety of reasons, though there’s a slight bit of trepidation on Jenna’s part, with butterflies of the unknown creating havoc on her nerves.

Sarah has been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt (and the socks, and the sweatpants, and the coffee mugs, and the baseball hats).
It’s a year she’s worked incredibly hard to get to and it’s one that will undoubtedly be emotional when it comes to an end. Pamela and I consider most of her friends extended family.
For Jenna, this is new territory. I can tell she’s excited though as she watches her pile of stuff growing in the living room next to Bob.
My life is once again undergoing a significant change as the “soundtrack” of our house changes.
There’s nothing I’m trying to figure out here and no tears to wipe (yet) but I wanted to put a timestamp on this time in my life.
Even if I could slow it down, I probably wouldn’t.
That would be like locking the door on two precious lives thirsting for self-discovery, knowledge and ultimately their independent happiness.
I could never do that.
Maybe I just wanted to write how much I already miss the both of them.
The kitchen door just won’t be opening and closing as much.
Laundry will be lighter.
Dirty water bottles in the sink will be virtually non-existent.
The two thousand pairs of sneakers and sandals that now litter the first floor will be rendered invisible.
I want to think that life will get simpler but it won’t.
And that’s okay because I know in my heart that they’ll be okay.
And I’ll use the bathroom whenever I want to.
Maybe.
Anyway you look at it, I’m going to miss them.
As I always do.
I figure it won’t be long until I write a post that starts,
“It was August of 2008 when I wrote this . . . ”
In the meantime, life will go on,
and our old backdoor will remain forever open . . .