24 February 2005

cats. they think they own the place
part deux

cat's back. kinda skittish, scaredy cat. won't talk to anyone right now. we'll just have to torture her back into submission, dammit.

welcome home, cat.

* * * * *

part trois here.

22 February 2005

cats. they think they own the place,
and then they leave

damn cat. been in the house now for 5 years. thinks she's queen of all she surveys. and what does she do? she leaves!

my 10-year-old's favorite cat vanished today. into thin air. walked away from the house. now the other cat is howling, my daughter is maudlin, and my wife is in tears. and i have this sort of emotional detachment that's kind of creepy.

don't get me wrong, i like my cats a lot. i hope my cat comes back. for my daughter's sake, for my wife's sake. i do miss the creature. i miss the way she crawls on top of my chest and head-butts my chin to wake me up in the morning.

damn cat.

* * * * *

20 February 2005

birth. school. work. death. (reprise)

cancer is such a pisser. was then, still is now.

if you remember from last month, one of my oldest and dearest friends has leukemia. diane is 40, the sweetest, most generous person you could ever want to meet. 2 kids, nice husband. good christian woman who would never think an evil thought or hurt another being.

diane was in line for a new leukemia protocol in seattle, but then she got pneumonia and an infection of the pancreas a week or so ago, and that pretty much nixed her chances of going to seattle for the treatment. seems you have to be infection-free for at least two weeks to start the protocol.

diane's running out of options, kids. i'm afraid she might not last much longer and i will lose my other best friend.

thanks, diane, "blueeyes", for lighting up my life the way you did and the way nobody else could. it's been a heckuva 22 years with you in my life. we had our ups and downs as most friends do, and i dread the day you aren't around to make all things seem good in the world. you have given so much love to this world, and i hope i am capable of giving even a tenth of it back the way you have done.

15 February 2005

if a tree falls. . .

physics question du jour:
if a stealth bomber crashes in a forest, would it make a sound?

if a tree falls, part deux

physics questions du jour:
if milli vanilli fell in the woods,
would someone else make a sound?

12 February 2005

you know you live in 2005 when. . .

1. you accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

2. you haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. you have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.

4. you email the person who works at the desk next to you.

5. your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.

6. you go home after a long day at work you still answer the phone in a business manner.

7. you make phone calls from home, you accidentally dial "9" to get an outside line.

8. you've sat at the same desk for four years and worked for three different companies.

10. you learn about your redundancy on the 11 o'clock news.

11. your boss doesn't have the ability to do your job.

12. you pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home.

13. every commercial on television has a website at the bottom of the screen.

14. leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.

15. you get up in the morning and go online before getting your coffee.

16. you start tilting your head sideways to smile. :)

17. you're reading this and nodding and laughing.

18. even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.

19. you are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.

20. you actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.

thanks to my good friend chuck jeffcoat
for sharing this with me

09 February 2005

07 February 2005

02 February 2005

when the cat's away. . .

carrie has gone off to a teacher's conference in the columbia gorge for the next two nights, leaving me home alone with the kidz. should be fun. i wonder what i'll fix for them for dinner tonight?

i'll wager dollars to doughnuts they want macaroni. That'll be four- and ten-year-old girls for you now.

after the dinner it'll be piano practice and reading for the girls, and then off to nighty-night. then, since there is no west wing or alias on tonight, maybe i'll get a little reading done myself.

sounds exciting, no?

in a way, it is. for those of you who have no kids, you know not what you are missing.

i'll sign off on that note and wish you a jolly good night.