Oh! Death, where is thy sting?

Until Danny produces a news clipping stating otherwise, I’m going to have to put the biological warefare theory on the back burner for a bit.

Last Thursday night I started getting slightly more congested than normal. And as the evening pressed on, it got worse and worse. Eventually it got so bad, I could barely sleep.

I woke up with what felt like a cold. One so severe that it might make better economical sense to simply package a small rainforest in a tissue box.

I did something I rarely do. I stayed home from work. I felt evil. I felt dirty. Here were all of my coworkers making useful contributions to society, and as for myself, I was simply contributing to the global warming problem with my newest addition: a fever.

Somehow, I made it through that day in a big blur, when the weekend came. At this point there was nothing the doctor could do… rest and warm soup time.

Now, as any good cold should know, when you don’t have to go to work, the ailment is supposed to go into remission so you can have some fun.

Well, mine didn’t. Instead, it got worse. I haven’t seen Harry Potter. I haven’t seen Bond. And it’s likely by the time the cold subsides, I’ll already have them on DVD. It’s just not fair.

The illness seems to bring out the goodness in people all around me. My wife demonstrates her love by showing me it’s possible for me to survie on a totally bland and liquid diet. But the cutest demonstration came from Marni.

As I was lying there in front of the fireplace trying to figure out how to claw my way in to get even more heat, each time I let out a small cough, she’d stop playing in the other room, run in, gently stroke me on the temple, and run back out again. It was the best “there-there” I think I had ever experienced.

And don’t think for a minute I didn’t start to take advantage of it, either. I’d see how quietly I could cough and get her to come running. I’d see if one right as she was leaving would stop her retreat.

Naturally, she never gave up, and I ended up feeling bad for toying with her.

Monday rolls around, and I’ve got about 3 full days out of the way. How much more could be ahead?

Oh, you guessed it. That’s when I started getting a sore throat. I don’t think I’ve had one this bad before. I barely can talk without choking or going into coughing fits.

And what can I say about back adjustments? I’ve thrown my neck and back out, and no sooner than Mike gets it in alignment, one good wheeze and I’m Mr. Pretzel again.

But, I’m still chipper.

That is until Monday night… that’s when the pink eye sets in. Yes, I finally managed to catch it, I think from the kids.

That night I woke up understanding a little better what Saul on the road to Damascuss must have gone through. My eyes were booger-glued shut. Sorry, there was no other way to describe it.

When I managed to pry them open, it looked like a scene from Alien. My eyes were red and bloodshot.

One of the kids drew a picture of me. And when it looked horrific enough, they changed their mind that it was a deamon (and not me afterall). Yeah. Right.

Tuesday morning, I had quite enough. Tamara took me to the doctors, and I got more slips of paper from him than a third grader with a weak bladder has hall passes.

Not counting the doctor visit, we spent nearly $200 in anti-biotics alone for me. Generic.

I can only wonder what work thinks. “Ow, my face hurts. Ow, my throat hurts. Ow, my eyes hurt.” Sadly, if you saw a picture of me, all doubt would be shed from your mind. Mike actually suggested taking a picture, but like I really want THAT floating around the corporate website.

Now I’ve got these horse pills and no horse. So, I suppose I’m to fill in for the rear of one and take ’em.

I’ve already talked with my sister, Thanksgiving at her place is canceled.

Jim, however, raised the offer of doing something together, if I was unable to drive (or move). He’s the greatest. Though, now there may be other plans that get in the way of that. Sigh. Now my hopes are crushed.

Anyhow, I awake from downstairs in front of the fireplace, and Tamara’s no where to be found. Turns out she’s been upstairs asleep for many hours.

When I wake her, I found out …she’s got the same fever, chills, headache, sore throat, and sinus issues I did. Let’s just compound my guilt.

I suppose I’ll have to wait for her to fall back to sleep before I slip her the pink eye and finish off her holiday to boot.

Step Away from the Three Year Old

The kids and I have a new ritual since Halloween. All that spare makeup I have is being put to good use.

When bath night rolls around, I’m permitted to decorate the faces of Mike’s kids, transforming them into rabbits, cats, puppies, and even glow-in-the-dark Tyco Brahe clones.

Last night I was painting Marni’s face as a puppy dog. She had big black eyes, long ears, a white chin, and a brownish orange face with red lips.

Now, I might make an observation here. And that is that young children don’t realize makeup can be smeared off.

I might make another observation here, too. It didn’t cross my mind either.

When Marni was getting ready to head upstairs to do her bath, she wished me a good night and came over to give me a hug. Instead of a hug, she gave me a little peck right on my chin, just under my lower lip.

I didn’t know anything was wrong until she pointed at my face, said “uh-oh,” and then pointed at her own lips as an indicator as what had happened.

Now, normally you wouldn’t think this was a big deal. You would, however, if you knew that your wife was about to walk in the door any second and you had what looked like lipstick on your face.

Thank goodness the child spoke up and didn’t leave me there to face a red-head who would be more than willing to give me a hard time, even if she did suspect innocence.

I got up and went to the sink, grabbed a paper towel, and started wiping away.

That’s when the real trouble began.

Sweet Marni said in the cutest voice imaginable, “sorrieeez…” and while I was distracted at the sink by getting more water, she snuck up in the same instant and gave me a huge apologetic hug for the fake-lipstick incident.

Crotch high.

Now there was blush AND lipstick colored makeup right in the middle of my crotch. And I don’t mean a little dab. I’m talking about a smear about 5 inches long and 3 inches high. It looked like Tammy Faye Baker had taken a nap in my lap.

Did I mention Tamara was about to walk in the door any minute?

Because I know I’ve yet to mention that Mike “My Daughter Doesn’t Date Until She’s 40” Henderson was upstairs, probably reading a hunting magazine about effective techniques for skinning an animal after it’s been shot.

Should you be one of those people that believes that history will be unfolded for all to see at the Second Coming, be sure to get a good look at the panic stricken expression that lingers on my face at the exact moment I’m doing damage assessment. It alone is worth obtaining salvation for, if not just to get a gander at.

Immediately, I switch from face to crotch, hoping to that very same God that Mike isn’t walking down the stairs and I have to explain to him why me and my portable date are having a grand old time in front of his 3 year old.

Marni, ever the helpful, decides she’s going to help out. I told her not to touch anything (with my mind more thinking about me as the direct object to that imperative) and she backs away from her third approach.

She looked up and me and said, and I kid you not, “Water… duh!”

And you know, for a moment, I almost bought into it. I swear, my head turned to the sink. However, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

There was no way in the world I was going to saturate my lower extremities for her amusement and innocent delight. It was either going to look like I had succeeded in what it already looked like I was doing, or that I had wet myself.

Both Tamara and Mike would give me a load of grief, even if I could talk my way out of that. The only positive side to the story is that Jim wasn’t there to witness it first hand.

As luck would have it, the make up came off with about 30 seconds of vigorous abrasion, which to be honest, felt like an eternity (and pretty good if I do say so myself).

The youngster was shuttled upstairs with no concept of my turmoil, and as she hit the top of the stairs, my wife walked in with dinner.

That sigh of relief alone was more precious than you can ever imagine.

And the Stars Fell

At 4:00am I was woken by my wife who dutifully fulfilled her obligation to disturb my rest in order to view the night sky.

Tamara, Michele H., and I stepped outside and instantly observed several falling stars. The display was enough to motivate us to get in a car and head towards open country.

The first thought was to head down Rt. 15 toward Danny’s old residence: the Bullrun Castle. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of a sleepy and gun-wielding John wondering what trespassers were in his driveway.

Instead, we bailed out onto a small road, pulled the car over, and watched until 5:30am-5:45am.

From what we could tell, the shooting stars fell all around us at the full 360-degrees. They were more spectacular closer to the horizon. At least three were excessively bright with long lasting, thick trails of fiery sparkles.

We returned home, warmed ourselves by the fire, and quaffed hot coco.

Is there an edge of the world, and did you fall off it?

For those of you who know me personally, you probably haven’t seen much of me in the last week or so. Here’s what I’ve been up to.

First of all, I was scheduled to go to Chicago pretty much until December. Then at the last minute, and I mean last minute, plans got changed so I’m working out of Rockville, MD these days.

There’s pluses and minuses to that. The good news is that I am not disappearing for a week at a time on my family and shoving all personal chores and responsibilities off on Tamara. The bad news is that it’s an hour (and quite often more) commute to and from that location — for instance, I left at 4:30pm while feeling sick, and arrived home sharply at 6:00pm. I manage to pass away the hour and half by listening to audio programs on tape and CD. Currently, I’m working my way through the Old and New Testament.

The problem is the professional version of the Bible that I have seems to have been edited by a rookie. Chapters may end with the last word cut off, the volume isn’t constant, and sometimes it’s possible to detect editing. That’s kind of distracting from what should be a professional project.

One of my personal work habits is to have a copy of ICQ up and running; this lets people know where I am, that I’m safe (in the ever of sniper attacks), and they can get a message to me. The client site I’m at has a very strict firewall, and getting to the outside world is really difficult.

So, add some long days, an ugly commute, and no communication to the outside world, and you find that I’m not only physically but mentally exhausted by the time I get home. My week’s worth of emails and projects seem to backup more than a toilet being fed rolls of toilet paper by a two year old that’s just learned how to flush.

Friday was pretty cool. Jim and Loralie took Tamara and I out to the Melting Pot. It was Jim’s way of thanking Tamara for all her help, while blowing my weight-watchers diet straight back to hell.

Saturday started by sleeping in and recovering those lost hours from waking up between 5-5am to get to Rockville this past week, and going to Emily and De’s wedding! I played with Cora, but she didn’t seem to remember all that well who I was, although she remembered all the games we played and didn’t treat me like a stranger.

Michele M. was there looking hot in her kilt and chain mail head piece. We got into a bubble blowing fight which quickly degraded into flicking frosting at each other. I’m certain the more colorful version will appear in her journal.

Alan came over later, and we looked at hooking up a new phone switch. By the time we figured out just how much re-wiring was really necessary, we bailed on the idea for the night and went to get some ice-cream.

While at the mall we picked up some Godiva chocolate for Michele H. and delivered it to her work. Turns out it was a great idea as someone there stole her dinner.

Meanwhile, there’s about 2 hours of consciousness left in me, so I’m off to work on some personal projects for people.

Single for a Day

Alan, James, Tamara, and I went to RenFest again this weekend.

We took in a number of the usual shows, but this weekend had a new activity.

The process was simple. Every single person was issued a name tag that, instead of a name, had a number on it. You’d wear it in a place where you thought people were most likely to be looking. Then, when you noticed someone in the crowd that you wanted to get to know, you’d write them a message, addressing it with their badge number, and post it on a public bulletin board. In return, they might write you. It was Ye Ole ICQ, done with paper.

Since only singles were allowed to participate, Tamara removed her wedding rings, and she, I, and a kicking and screaming Alan went up to get our numbers.

We figured even the three of us were no match for James, so he got out of the day unscathed.

I happened to see amongst the pretty maids there a really pretty girl who caught my eye. So I got her number, and left her a romantic message. About half an hour later, I got a reply saying she was interested in talking with me.

Tamara also managed to get an anonymous message, of someone who took interest in her.

At the end of the day, we met up with our secret admirers, and low and behold … Tamara and I had picked each other. (“Oh, this was so unexpected!”)

I proposed, and we remarried. Guess these RenFest things work afterall!

We also ran into Joelle and Coby while we were out there.

Discussions preceeding Ice and Logic

Last night we were again treated to a discussion group, led by Richard and his famous answering a question with a question to show you already knew the answer technique, but just hadn’t reasoned it through. Also mixed in the pot was some nifty historical details that most likely had escaped casual notice.

After Richard left, I snagged Mike, Tamara, and Danny and we all went to 7-11 to get slurpries. We even got one for Michele, whom on return was doing puzzles from Johnathan’s gifted and talented class.

We watched an episode of the Outer Limits and then talked Danny into a game of Ice Towers. Michele joined us and stomped us; after that it was difficult to tell which strategy was working, but we always had a clear winner.

Danny took off and I showed Michele some logic books with interesting puzzles in them. She stayed up pretty late working on them.

Danny’s got me all worked up on creating a new game extension for a popular game we both enjoy very much. The trick will be to see how much of Danny’s time I can snag before he takes off.

The Big Apple

Yesterday I had the opportunity to go to The Big Apple Circus dress rehearsal, thanks to Michele Henderson.

The Big Apple Circus tends to work it’s way around, and I was pretty disappointed when they stopped going to the Reston Town Center because a huge building was put on the lot they used. That disappointment completely vanished when the new home for this area’s visits was in front of Dulles Town Center, minutes away from my back yard.

The acts this year didn’t seem to deal with death defying feats of dropping from the roof, nor did they derive from artsy-fartsy origins. Instead they came from raw skill. That meant that a lot more things could go wrong, and wrong they did.

Jugglers dropped things — but it was still so amazing you just didn’t care. One guy worked his way up a ladder while twirling it, however he fell on three different attempts and threw in the towel. On one occasion he fell, carried the ladder, and swooped it over the audience. The problem there was that I was holding a standing baby, and he was coming right at her head level — he didn’t see her until the last moment.

Luckily, I managed to lower the baby, and he stopped his swinging arc mid stream right as he got over my wife’s head. The baby was a near miss. My bet is that part will be cut from the act, or at least he’ll be looking before he swings in the future.

Finally, in the “did I lose my job” department, when one of the trapeze artists dismounted into the net, the net collapsed at one corner, and he grazed the ground. It was obvious the safety manager in the corner was really pissed, and he aborted the rest of the act, sending people down on ladders. This meant the troop had actually been working without a net and didn’t know it. Someone was going to get a reaming when the audience left.

All in all, we had a really good time — we sat up front, and Mike got to interact with “Grandma” (a clown). Grandma had been splashed in the face a few times, and after being unable to seek revenge on another clown, he enlisted Mike’s help. Mike threw the water at Grandma instead.

It’s very interesting to observe the mechanics behind the art. We were so close, and there were so few people in the tent, that it was possible to hear the instructions as they conversed. You’d think the clown would be using a silly voice or miming action. Nope. Just a regular calm voice, but where you’d expect dialog, instructions were being passed instead.

Grandma walked toward our row, as he homed in on Mike, he said “you, please stand up” – Mike did. And as he was acting silly, in the calmest voice you heard “I’m going to hand you a glass of water, then point at him, when I do, you throw just the water at me.” Mike followed instructions exactly on cue as instructed, and the rest of the tent out of earshot burst into laughter.

When the clown returned with a hose to exact revenge, Mike did an improv and grabbed the nearest daughter to use as a human shield. The crowd loved it, the clowns laughed, and the daughter crossed her arms — she didn’t realize it was all an act. A few cheers of “good job!” to her ear, and she caught on and went back to sucking in the circus experience.

Secret Family Recipes

Today I wanted to share with you some Secret Family Recipes. I encourage you to contribute your own.

BREAKFAST SPECTACULAR
1. Put cereal in bowl.
2. Add milk
3. Serve with spoon

MOVIE MUNCHIES
1. Insert popcorn bag into Microwave
2. Press HIGH
3. Remove smoke detector goes off

BBQ TREATS
1. Place marshmallow on end of stick
2. Hold over hot coals
3. Extinguish treats as necessary

FRENCH CAFE SOUP
1. Open can of Campbell’s chicken soup
2. Add a can of water, optionally stirring
3. Serve cold