Holiday Runaround OR The State of Texas isn't THAT big

 

During this white elephant season, I made a killing. And yes, that is a NCAA-licensed Snuggie.

For everyone disappointed in the usual anniversary post or the "this is what I did on my birthday" post (which is usually one in the same), I was slightly preoccupied this go-round. Since I am what you call a lame son/sibling/family member, I wanted to prove my metal this holiday season. With last year lost to holiday work coverage and this Thanksgiving lost to scheduling SNAFUs, I wanted to make it up to the ones I love. Therefore, we loaded up Andi, packed as many gifts as we thought we needed, gassed her up and launched to four different stops. Yeah, who's the deadbeat now?

Checkpoint 1: In between the rural communities of Stockdale and Floresville off of State Highway 97 lies a very familiar waypoint. Uncle Gary, Aunt Tami and Grandpa hosted yet another white elephant/Chinese Christmas/Pepsi blind taste test party. This was a definite go-to because I wanted to see my grandfather in a non-wedding setting. Plus, the party is always packed with surprise gifts and discussion topics I know very little about (i.e. Whitetail hunting season in Texas). It's classic good times generated primarily by old family friends and loved ones but kicked up a notch by absolutely absurd white elephant gifts.

     Painful part of the trip: watching Grandpa get his selected gift stolen from him FIVE times. He was by far the most popular target with the gift traders. I winced every time someone jacked him.

     Lessons learned on Checkpoint 1: I have a little bit more to discuss with Grandpa than I thought. From natural gas drilling issues in South Texas to the family stronghold in Glenrose, The Lovely and I had a lot of talking points we went back and forth with my sole surviving elder patriarch.

     Addendum: thoughts and prayers are with our friend Chesley and his family as he will be going into surgery next month for cancer. With a personality and tenacity such as his, he will whip this fight no problem.

Checkpoint 2: Barreling through more of State Highway 97 and dodging heavy trucks through State Highway 85, we would connect to the southern tip of Interstate 35 headed down Laredo-way. The trip to the parents is always interesting. As some folks would love to discover the aura and the mystery that is Laredo proper (at least the Chamber of Commerce version of Laredo), The Lovely and I practice quite a solid policy of isolationism. Once we are at the homestead, that's it. We are there, along with my sister that spent Christmas with the four of us. And everything we would ever need is in the spot where we landed. And to me, that's perfect. It's like showing up to an all-inclusive resort where there is absolutely no desire to venture outside the premises. You know, like all over Mexico? Well, this is tantamount to our trip to my parents. The food and drink are always available, the conversation is great and the relaxation level is at 11.

     Painful part of the trip: my first shower in two days and I have icicles forming on my fingertips. I guess with their house, the water heater isn't used to supporting three other humans. Boo.

     Lessons Learned from Checkpoint 2: Ham is delicious BY ITSELF. You don't need a stupid glaze and bag of brown sugar to cover or coat the fine, tasty meat product. It is fine. Leave it be.

You want proof? Here. Here's your proof (via Google Maps).

Checkpoint 3: One would think with a latitudinal difference of  13' 6", it would be a straight shot. But as we I have written about Corpus Christi, nothing comes easy (even though they can't help their geographical location). It took three hours mostly across US Highway 59 connecting to State Highway 44. But we hit it. Once we landed, I felt like we were on the clock...the total opposite of the Laredo trip. Drop gear, do a load of laundry, drop off some more gifts, check in with Cutaway, come back, get dressed, do Hanukkah, enjoy latkes, open gifts, go back home, watch the Spurs, watch Drew Brees break a record, think about running in the morning, think about running in the morning, think about running in the morning...you get the point. It was such a short trip, The Lovely and I always have about two to three days to stretch out the family and friends connections. It kinda sucked being rushed as this one stop felt like we were under the gun the whole time. The total time we spent was 23 hours and it did not feel like enough.

     Painful part of the trip: aside from feeling rushed, realizing that we brought the wrong vehicle for transporting all of The Lovely's historical artifacts. I was kicking myself the whole time realizing that the Urban Assault Vehicle should always be the default vehicle (terrible gas economy notwithstanding) because we have no idea what will will be hauling to and fro.

     Lessons Learned from Checkpoint 3: Corpus roads absolutely suck. That is probably why there is not any MINIs rolling through that pothole haven. Yet another job for the UAV.

Checkpoint 4: This is probably about the easiest leg of the trip. A cigarette-smoking monkey falling asleep can navigate Interstate 37 with no problem. Once we hit San Antonio proper, it's only a matter of navigating some patches of traffic, but nothing infuriating. Once we landed on the northside, we were golden. Granted, we beat little brother to his own house, but only by two minutes. I think this stop was a hybrid of the relaxation of my parent's house with the constant activity of the white elephant party. When there is a nine-month old and a nearly three year-old, Uncle Bam Bam and Aunt Mel have to be on point. After making Gav want more laughter and attention, we had to eat at some point. Finally, a lean protein! Brother's culinary artistry extends to the open-flame grill. Awesome. More reading of books, opening of games and watching RC tracks in action, we were far more worn out than his parental counterparts. Conversation was light and informative, but really, it was about being there. Apparently, young Gavin debriefed his mother on how much fun he had with Uncle and Auntie. Right there, that was worth the 153 mile extension.

     Painful part of the trip: hearing something made of hard plastic crash then the sequential baby screaming. Fortunately, the baby gate resting against the back of the couch just missed Baby GIG. That loud noise would upset any mammal.

     Lessons Learned from Checkpoint 4: Baby GIG is one tough son of a...one tough kid. The day we landed he was rolling with dual ear infections. But he was just moving about like a pseudo-normal nine-month old. He is dealing with an overgrowth development malady where his is the size of an 18-month old. GIG will have to deal with this for the rest of his life, but the glance of strength I saw in him, he should be perfectly fine...especially with a supportive, loving brother like Gav.

Missed opportunity: Our trip would have had an interesting hook route pointing to Wimberley, but our timing pattern was off. Young August and his daddy (my brother) were unable to launch until early afternoon, where we were chasing a 5:30pm sundown back to Dallas. Two out of three nephews isn't bad, especially when it comes to all of our competing schedules. So, we will have to make is down to (ugh) Houston to check on Nephew Prime (he was the first of the bunch by about two months). Better luck next time.

So, four checkpoints, 1,030 miles, 18.5 hours of road time. That's like driving from Dallas to Tampa, FL one way. That's like Dallas to Grand Forks, ND. That's like an hour short of driving from Dallas to Vegas. That's how you start your third year in your 30s.

Lessons Learned, my three things:

1) The toll roads around Austin are ABSOLUTELY USELESS. Yeah, let me pay eight bucks to get to the city limits of Austin, drive 10 miles east, then 20 miles north to realize I probably could have saved time taking surface roads...even while I am average 90 MPH down said tollways. The 45 and 130 toll is poorly planned, poorly executed and saves zero time. What an absolute waste. I blame Rick Perry.

2) Satellite radio is also a poorly executed product. Remember when it used to be commercial-free? Remember when it played non-commercial deep cuts of albums? I do, too. At least they still have Stern.

3) It's good to be reminded that family is important.

Happy anniversary to P30P. I have had just as much fun composing this blog as the seven people that read this drivel continue to read post after post. I still have some back-logged blogs to hit while I have the time. Let's see if the muses and my selectivity provide some write-time. Until then, talk later.

March Madness can mean so many things.

Meli's kickass hat is from The House of MacGregor. Daniel's hair is from decades of bad haircuts.

With all the insanity that is going on globally, it is difficult for me to use the word "epic". First of all, it's part of a title of a Mickey Mouse video game. Right then and there, the word lost a bit of it's intensity. Secondly, I would be breaking the Louie CK rule of exaggerated vocabulary. But I have no other adjectives in the word box. I'm sorry.

Anytime you get to go to two sporting events without having to pay for a single ticket, that's pretty awesome. Granted, it was hockey, but it's a professional sports league. So, for most people, that would be their weekend. Spool it up and wait for Monday to show up. But no, I had to entertain out-of-town guests, go to a birthday party, pull a late night filled with service industry alienation, Old Milwaukee, YouTube video references, ditching The Toadies, calling an absolute stranger a d-bag for cutting in front of me in a food line (yeah, I don't know if it was the beverages or the sunburn talking at that point), the luckiest pizza delivery guy outside of a porno storyline, the best shower ever, and a home-cooked meal in which my mother would assault a small child for the recipe.

Yeah, yeah, this is a 32-year-old's epic weekend.

Part of the epic-ness was moving through a cloud that I used to navigate all the time when I was younger. You really start to appreciate stamina when you start to lose it. But then when you have 12 hours on your feet and in the heat without collapsing under your own weight, you start scrambling for those gold stars you used to earn because, damnit, you just got yourself a new one. Also, where did that tolerance come from?

Maybe I should back up...

Dallas is known for very few things because it's filled with plastic people ballooning plastic thoughts. But if there is one thing this city does right, it's the St. Patrick's Day Parade. Every Saturday before drunky's night out, this town goes greener than Al Gore's PowerPoint presentations. The scene is controlled chaos before the floats, flat-bed trucks and one poorly decorated OU alumni trailer (it's 8:47pm...). Then the parade rolls out. Living downtown and being trapped near kiddie parade central (thanks Adolphus Hotel for waking me up so early on a holiday weekend), it was a welcome change of pace where the subject matter is not overtly adult, but PG-13 enough to tolerate the Charlie-Foxtrot of traffic, people and waking up relatively early on a Saturday. Then it ended. Media juggernaut Gordon Keith stole my thought on The Musers this morning, but I will reiterate. The aftermath is the most realistic looking post-apocalyptic, zombie-plagued urban scare-scape that I have seen in a long time. And it was awesome.

For most people, just the parade would be enough to call that an epic weekend, especially after witnessing the revelry and the expiration of some people's sobriety and good graces. As a parade virgin, it was all to be expected with a couple of fun surprises in between. As I have mentioned before, it is amazing how the body responds to different stresses. And with the White Rock Marathon notwithstanding, this was about as impressed I have been with my sad sack of beyond-the-warranty bones. But when you really want to continue to stand to see what happens next, the stamina shows up in buckets.

Good job, human body. And thanks to everyone that joined along in the fun. If we do it again next year, remind me to grab a hat and get a better night's sleep.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Never, ever, ever, ever buy something you really want. Three months later, another something will come by and CRUSH EVERYTHING IN IT'S PATH, INCLUDING YOU.
2) So, my older brother is now on Twitter. I wonder in how many formats, languages and social media platforms he can offend with? Now he's just showing off (@garner99...go ahead a guess what his password is.)
3) If it wasn't for The Bachelor, Dancing With The Stars and Modern Family, ABC would be my generation's version of CBS. BTW, fuck The Bachelor; can I have my wife back, now?

Pow. It's an update. Now I have to watch a lot of basketball. PS - I have a couple of new correspondents. Hope they come up with something a delicious as post-parade coverage...wait, that sounded odd. Talk later.

Yet another anniversary to mark...Year One in Dallas

The 'hood, as viewed from the Belmont Hotel patio. First one to find our building gets a prize!

Humans are weird. We react and behave completely differently than any other animal on Earth. We are so weird in our behavior that we study other species to see if any of their behaviors match our own, mostly to no avail.

No more is this chasm of differentiation more apparent then when we look at how humans associate memory with dates. No other animal (other than elephants) has the capacity and the desire to associate events with dates and mark them for memorial or trivia. March 6, 1836. June 28, 1914. December 12, 1980. Whether good or bad, we have to make a friggin' anniversary for everything.

And on some of these events, someone else will try to monetize the anniversary. Could I interest anyone in some commemorative Obama inauguration plates?

So, in my quest to seem a bit more human to everyone, I have done the same today with...today. On November 30th of last year, we landed on our version of Plymouth Rock.

There were ample reasons and discussion points as to why this was such an important event.

In reaching Dallas, this was the first Manifest Destiny move I have made since college. For good reason, no one counts college as they foray into the quote/unquote real world. That's like saying the Oklahoma land grab was done right outside of Philadelphia. No, this was the reason why you go to college...to move on up, to the [north] side.

This move was to unfamiliar territory. I had to adjust with only a generalization of the area and my penchant for hating to get lost. As an extension to Manifest Destiny, there was nothing really stopping this move other than want for something better.

Also, on a personal level, this was my Laverne and Shirley moment. No, no, not working for a beer company. But this would finally mark the end of my rehabilitation of immaturity and proceed with the adult move completely from under the parents' shadow. Granted, I needed every bit of their help. But this was the move that placed the exclamation point on "Let's blow this Popsicle stand!"

Finally, I have moved to where I can get some stuff done. I moved to where I can grow with the niche I found. And I can finally make something that my mother said a decade ago a reality.

And it all started a year ago today. Got to say, it's been a pretty good year.

The year started well, with the alma mater putting a one-point beating on the men of red from some state in the Midwest.

Then the snowpocalypse. Was I an omen for the fair city of Dallas?

Then Michael hosted New Year's. That was nice...

But toward the end, it got a little weird.

Celebrating Year Two of a super-cool union with The Lovely. I have no idea who the blonde is behind me.

Lots of sleep was lost in between, especially during the graveyard shift. Just trying to help a brother out.

Special guests visit all the time. Sabrina liked our neighborhood but the neighborhood did not appreciate all the yelling.

Then Mom showed up...and I had to behave myself (BTW, Mama is my mom. Mom is Meli's mom, just FYI).

The cool thing is that there is always something going on in Dallas, but the distractions were always around.

Dallas is like Casablanca, you know, without the Nazis.

The Metroplex is a scary place. Grande and I almost died that day (from heat exhaustion).

First year in Dallas, first year for Fantasy Football...yet another thing Michael is superior at than me.

Got a second job as a superhero. They have GREAT medical and dental.

Granted, Thanksgiving was different, but a first Dallas Thanksgiving to remember. We didn't disavow the holiday altogether!

So, Dallas, I just have one request...stay classy.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) I have to keep doing this. This is cathartic. This is supportive. This is necessary for me to stay sharp and poignant. Besides, my writing has been so lacking I'm misspelling layup words. Nothing more angering than that.
2) I know it's necessary for a state to collect sales tax. But if Cyber Monday is any indication of the stomach punch Texas is taking, the state may need to figure out a new method of collection other than a customary tithe.
3) It's not that The Social Network made me hate Zuckerbergnet and all he stands for, it just pissed me off that I studied the wrong subject in college.
BONUS: Listening to the Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross score for Social Network. I dare you not to write code while listening to it (Money tracks=2, 4, 5 and 11).
SUPER BONUS: Light a candle for me when you are hitting up mass, church, temple, et al. this weekend. The Rock will be fun, but not easy.

I would like to thank everyone in my life right now. As the snapshots show, it would not have been possible without everyone. Also, the next post will be nowhere near as sappy. Talk later.

What did we learn? Lessons Learned 2009

These two lazy pups didn't learn anything this year, other than to growl at Dallasites versus Corpus Christians.

The last couple of years, I have taken more pride in learning something new everyday, and redoubling my efforts to be better from it. Here at P30P, that effort has hit a new level with writing "Lessons Learned, my three things:" every post. It's the healthy reminder that knowledge is power and you have to continue to acquire more ammunition. And it's been an eventful calendar year. From dealing with married/grown-up issues that are not an issue, to overseas travel, to enjoying a party now and again, to a delightful trip to Hell and back, to getting out of Dodge but not forgetting the fine people of Dodge.

As a reminder to my readers and myself, I have pulled out a couple of my favorites from Lessons Learned past. Without further ado, here's another end-of-the-year list.

I am very focused. Attack and release for Microsoft. Time to bring it.
Obviously, Microsoft boot camps are not the end-all, be-all of mental tests. But it certainly was a healthy reminder that "when you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything." And that is exactly what I did. And it was pretty sweet.

If you think are are almost dying, you are not.
As we learned in Costa Rica, you can enjoy death-defying action-adventure activities with no fear of death or injury. Take that, Mexico. But when the chips are down and you have enough preparation to use the international whitewater swim technique, you will be fine. Just grab the life line, catch your breath and paddle forward. As The Lovely learned on the same trip, "you are NOT at Disneyland". Okay, so I sneaked in two lessons, but the primary one is more important.

It's not fun unless you can challenge yourself. It's not fun if I can't run a minute faster than yesterday. It's not fun if I can't disassemble a desktop and see if I can put it back together functionally. It's not fun if I can't be better than I was yesterday. So, in that spirit, it's not fun unless I can abstain from drinking while still hanging out at bars.
This wasn't really a true LL as it was more part of the post topic, but not only did I test myself mentally and physically, but chemically as well. It was a fun challenge. I know I can do it. My tendencies and my tongue will never get the better of me.

Looking for a new job is it's own full-time job.
I knew this fact when I graduated college. But I didn't learn the fact until it was drilled into me after the contract dilemma I was involved in this summer. That is in the past and my feet are back on terra firma. But, it will be thrice shy if I get bitten by this fact again.

When parents of children (that you will be hanging out with) warn you that the kids "are sick", watch your ass. Prevention is key, but you will probably get sick. Pathogens happen, kids happen. Have fun with the kiddos, remind them to wash their hands and be ready to slug Emergen-C and green tea.
I think we all learned that one this year. I hear there are plenty of H1N1 vaccines available now.

The more I complain about flying and airports, the more I psyche myself out. This trip was cake with extra frosting. I'm glad The Lovely is around for these trips, though...it does help.
"Life is better when you have a co-pilot." That's right, I just ruined a very good movie by quoting it. As extemporaneous knowledge, I have gotten much better at the whole flying thing.

The best way to learn a new location is to burn gas and drive around the whole place.
Dallas has treated me well, so far. But I am a sum of my parts. It will take all seven intelligences to be successful in my new environment - socially, professionally, biologically. But I peel back to what has made this blog and these experiences so indelible...I learned from them.

So, I will leave 2009 with that. We have come a long way, baby...with or without the cigarette advertising references. But we have a lot more to explore. Next year, we will learn where malware comes from, why grass is never green on any side, where does that white stuff from the sky come from and why Cowboys fans are terminally on suicide watch.

But that will be next year.

Merry New Year, all. Talk later.

Live on the Black Market (Revival)

Black Market Revival left it all on the stage, literally.

I had all the right intentions. I prepared questions. I thought about the story angle. I used all the journalistic skill honed from skipping classes in college to get this story right.

Then Saturday rolled around. After starting the evening at "Twisted Spurs", we relocated to the House of Rock for a homecoming. My favorite local band done good, Black Market Revival, returned for some home cooking. This gig had the same electric feel as all other shows for this talent group. Old "family" friends made their way back to the dark and scary venue that we loved. It reminded me of Festivus.

Turning the clock back a moment, D-Small and I had an AM radio show called "The ALT". Yes, I have mentioned this bit of trivia before - I know. But it never gets old. It was a nice run. We had 25 weeks on the air. One week featured BMR as a three-piece. And the band was awesome enough to be on the lineup for our holiday show, known as the Festivus for the rest of us. Ah, memories.

So, Saturday had that same special feel with some alterations. House of Rock has gone through some cosmetic changes, making a cellular split from HoR to The Venue. BMR had a new bassist in David. I was married. Sasha got another haircut. There were some other bits and pieces that were there or missing or in flux, such as The Davids not in attendance. All in all, the band sounded great (as I was kicking myself, I did not grab a set list before the set). And a great time was had by all.

It is why I regret the bittersweet feeling I am experiencing the day after. Sure, part of it is remembering the halcyon days of hanging out with a rock band (regardless of being local or national...a rock band is a rock band). But maybe it's the fact that "you can't go home again". I might catch another BMR show again someday. But more than likely I will have to travel for it. The quartet now claims Austin as their base of operations. Usually, that is a kiss of death for former Corpus Christians...

Tangential: next time you talk to someone from or in Corpus, count how many times they make out-of-town references. Nine times out ten, it's in reference to cool items or subjects. For example, I got a great new pearl-snap shirt. When I was in AUSTIN, I picked it up off South Congress. I called my buddy in SAN ANTONIO to see if there were any techie or security jobs available. The Lovely used to live in NEW YORK CITY.

I digress, it's like the restaurant you used to go to as a kid. You go back, it's not as good. Don't get me wrong, BMR was magnetic as usual. But with all the compiled differences of this show in comparison with all the previous BMR shows, I just felt...depressed. You knew it was different even though you were still singing along with "Pigtails and Pocketbooks".

So, I guess when you get older you can't enjoy anything anymore. I need to call the state and get my name changed to Debbie Downer (queue the music: whaaa-waah).

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) So, El Nino is back. Somehow that story doesn't have the same impact during an economic downturn. Why were the 90's so awesome?
2) Speaking of economics, I freaking love this feature story from Texas Monthly. Apparently, this guy loves technology more than I do.
3) I am one more screw up away from kicking Time Warner Cable to the curb.

I need to quit depressing myself with these sobering posts. Maybe I will do some politics or arguments versus massive megafarms and their impact on national health. No, I think I need to complain about sports. Talk later.

Holidays after 30 AKA just another day off work

With sundown tonight concluding the eight night of Hanukkah, we are dangerously close in putting the 2008 holiday season in the books. In all honesty, I'm not really sure why the expiration of a year is considered a holiday. But, the Western calendar has been established, so there is really no reason to argue that fact.

Tandem the calendar holidays (both Christian and Jewish) with the juxtaposition of the birthdays (both my wife and mine), and you've got one crazy celebration. That's one big cherry on top. Thanks to work (hereafter on my post known as "The Job"), it kept the partying in line, BECAUSE I HAD TO WORK FRIDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. C'mon, people, really?!?! Ninety percent of the U.S. workforce mailed it in, but I had to be one of a dozen yahoos to stay put in the cube farm?!?! Really?

Deep breath...and I'm over it.

But, even with the days swirling around like the biting north wind, I can't help but notice that something...has...changed.

My liver also enjoyed the holidays, but never got a day off.

I will give the audience one guess as to what has changed. I have to keep with the theme. I have gotten older. And getting older, the holidays aren't what they are cracked up to be. "Let me explain...no, there is no time; let me sum up."

If we are going strictly by the calendar, I have the 23rd and the 25th as the gift-receiving days. The older I get, the more inconsistent the delivery has been. It's like the post office if it was run like...a post office. Not that I am complaining. I'm grateful for any gift I receive, but the scheduling gets more and more out-of-whack the older I get. For example, my birthday gift was delivered and opened the 13th of December. My Christmas gift was opened on the 21st. And my poor gifting delivery habits have precipitated to my lovely wife. Her birthday gift was presented to her on September 13th (how do I remember this; it was during the UT/UTEP game). That's three months before my wife's birthday. I have a feeling that isn't good husband-wife gifting behavior. However, she was all for it...at least, that's what she said...

Argh, I feel like my point is not poignant with that goofy anecdote. My point is, the regimented dates and expectancy of the holidays has been thrown off it's usual schedule. All of the usual discipline and construct of rules have been thrown out the window. Is it because I can do whatever I want because I'm a grown-up? Sure, maybe. But there is something to be said for consistency. For twenty-some-odd-years, I was solid on the two important dates and what was supposed to happen - which was cake and presents. But this year, I am lacking such consistency.

Let's go back to the "because I can" argument: isn't birthdays and Christmases and Hanukkahs and Kwanzaa for the kids anyway?

• We put the old, dusty mythology of Christmas with Santa and Frosty and Rudolph (not an original member of Flight of the Reindeer, anyway) for the sake of the children.
  
• We spin the driedel top and spoil the hell out of the youngsters every time a candle is lit on the menorah.
  
• Sorry, the only Kwanzaa reference I have is from "Futurama" with the Kwanzaa-bot, voiced by none other than Coolio.
  
• Parents bend over backwards for pony rides and moon walks and clowns and minimum-wage-paid actors in superhero suits.
  

You get my point. Maybe this is for the kids? The rules and regulations were for the kids? I could buy that argument.

Not to go all anti-establishment (since I am part of the establishment now), but as someone that doesn't need as much positive reinforcement as "have you been a good boy for Santa this year", maybe is it not so bad to buck the standard convention of "holiday shopping". U.S. capitalism depends so much on consumers buying goofy shit all at the same time of year. And as luck or arrangement would have it, the marketplace pushes this high-pressure consumerism the last month of the year. But wait, doesn't more of the market have to prepare for their annual losses and gains the following month with taxes due? I am not sure of the fiscal year cycle for most of your department and general stores, but that timing sure is awesome.

Okay, I am meandering like Jerry Jones in a Philly luxury box. Point being, getting older made me appreciate how the holidays, as far as the gifts and toys and electronics and big-wheels and plastic swords are concerned, is mostly for the kids. For the older kids, it's just a reminder of the values the season brings should be practiced on a regular, multi-annual (if not daily) basis: peace on Earth, good will to all, baked goods and sweets at every corner of the office, love to and for one another, an appreciation of family and recognition that we are all a part of something greater, whether metaphysical or global.

From here on out, if I send gifts late or early, that's me gaining my new seasonal convention. If I receive gifts late or early, no worries. Just don't surprise me...I hate surprises.

I would like to close out each post with a method I learned from a former colleague of mine. A project is not complete without Lessons Learned. Here are my three things:
1) I am really becoming a fan of Bryan Singer. Damn fine work, sir. Keep it up.
2) If the Cowboys are the "Yankees of the NFL", then who are the Red Sox of the No Fun League?
3) I love freaking out people that I haven't seen since my wedding with the facial fuzz and the hair length. All they ask is "Why?". Why? Because I'm bored, I'm lazy and I want to see if my beard is blond, brown, white or red. Oh, the suspense!

Okay, sleep becomes me. Next post will be sometime early next year.

Talk later.