And now...

From the odd news department...

Sexual Evolution

It's clear to me, these days more than ever, that people have very different opinions about sexuality, romance and love. Men and women are different, generations are different... opinions among peers differ. And double standards, as much as we hope that they aren't, are very much alive and kicking. For example - I had a conversation with my Dad a while ago on the subject of cohabitation before marriage. I think that it's a personal choice. Whether or not one wishes to live with another before they are married, I don't believe (and there are studies on both sides of this debate) that it necessarily leads to higher rates of divorce. But the argument that my Dad and I had about it didn't revolve around marriage or divorce, but on how living together "looks" to people.

Dad: Its okay for the guy. It looks bad for the girl...
Me: What? How do you figure that?
Dad: It just looks bad.
Me: Dad, it takes both people involved. How can you say that it looks bad for the girl when the guy is there too.
Dad: ...

That was the actual conversation. Seriously, the fact that the onus is always on the woman seems a little unfair to me. I laugh at theories like the one from a Harvard Professor which basically say that the reason why lasting love and marriage or even committed relationships are on the decline because "men who grow used to "free samples" in the bedroom are going to leave women high-and-dry when it comes to committed relationships." Free samples?!? What are we, tasting menus?! So again, it's up to women to restrict themselves sexually in order to hook a man who will stay. It becomes our fault yet again as to why our life's fulfillment is not being realized - husband to take care of us, 2.5 kids, dog, picket fence... What kind of bullshit is this guy spewing?

I agree with the author of the article. The presumption that is made is that all women want the same thing. That, apparently, the only route to happiness is the traditional marriage and kids route. Now, I want to be married and have children. I always have. Been wanting to have kids since I was about 22, believe it or not. Anyone who has seen me interact with kids and babies can see it. But I had things to do first. I don't assume that what I want is what everyone wants, that this is the only way any woman can find happiness. It's arrogant to think such things. I know many strong, happy women who are at the point in their lives where they are comfortable with themselves and don't need or even want a committed relationship to make them happy or feel more complete. I know women who want marriage but not kids. Making generalizations about what is necessary to make a person feel fulfilled and then spewing this nonsense about how one should change one's behavior to achieve it... I think this Harvard Prof needs to get his head out of his ass and look around.

Whether or not one wants to have sex for the pure enjoyment of it or withhold until they are married and ready to have kids is a personal choice. At issue is what fulfills the individual. And it is up to the individual to figure it out. Not some middle-aged Harvard snob trying to return to the good-old-days before the sexual revolution.

Come on Barbie, let's go party...

I just think that this is really amusing...

Yeah, I'm ordering the gas cap on Monday...

Ahhh... well, BC and I (after much delay) finally picked up his motorcycle. This was last Monday (Columbus Day). We tinkered with it in his garage for the afternoon that day, trying to get it up and running - not that I was at all much help other than saying occasionally, "is this important? How about this?" Yeah, not much help. The battery was dead, obviously, as the bike hadn't been ridden in a year (and sat idle for 2 years before that, even)and there was a leak at the fuel valve. But other than that, the bike was in relatively good shape - we already knew it needed a new cap for the gas tank, as the one on it wasn't the proper one. The carburetor was actually fine... Once the battery was charged, the bike started up. The battery would not hold the charge, however, so there would be no test drive that day. Sigh.

BC informed me on the following Wednesday, after replacing the battery, he took the bike for a 30 mile ride. Other than a sluggish start - the choke needed to be on until the bike was warmed up - the ride was really smooth. YAY! Happy happy for me... so when is it my turn? Well, that came this past Saturday. I was really excited and slightly nervous, of course, as this would really only be my third time controlling a motorcycle, and I didn't want to make too much of a fool of myself... famous last words.

I was surprisingly able to pull out of the driveway without stalling out. BC was surprised to, since I just pulled away and took off down the block. Well, that's where it pretty much ended, at least for this first round. I had stopped at the STOP sign, but when I tried to get going again, I stalled out. Damn... Start up, try to go, stall out... Crap... Start up, move an inch, stall out... F*ck!... Start up, move a little, try to turn the corner, stall... AHHH!!! The bike is dropping!!! Well, I ended up on the soft grass, embarrassed, bike on the ground, fuel cascading out of the tank. BC got over there as quickly as he could and got the bike up, but there was not enough gas left in the tank to ride it around. We would have to take it back to the house, refill the tank, and try again later...

We got the bike to the house, filled it with the little gas left in the canister, went to the gas station and filled-up the bike, and BC took me out for a ride on the bike to show me how well the bike actually performs - I obviously couldn't tell from my short ride down the block. For a bike that really hasn't been ridden in about 3 years, it performed really well. Great acceleration, good breaks, shifts well, and we figured out that it's a 6 gear bike (the little OD (overdrive) light came on in 6th). Cool. Well, when we got back from our little ride, BC pulled in almost into the garage:

"Is this a hint that I'm done for the day? Or am I getting a time-out?"
"Yeah... go to the corner and think about what you did..."

Lucky for me, BC is very forgiving, and we tried it again later. My problem was that I was not coordinating the clutch release with the throttle very well from a stop. And I still have problems with it. So I stalled out at about every other STOP sign, but I would generally be able to get the bike going on the second attempt. My turns are pretty wide and I think that's just my nervousness at how much bigger this bike is from the one I learned on - 500cc versus 250cc (BC laughs at this since, to him, 500cc is really small), and I'm a little timid, for now, about leaning into the turn. As I get used to the bike, I know this will change - it did while I was learning to ride over the course of the weekend. I off-roaded a little on someone's lawn because of a wide turn... not very graceful, and I tried really hard to get off as quickly as possible. But all in all, it wasn't bad. I wasn't burning it up at all - I only got up to 3rd gear and about 25-30mph max. A little more practice is a necessity.

The gas cap hasn't yet been ordered - yesterday was pretty busy. But it shall be ordered today and will hopefully be installed before my next ride. I have the itch and I have it bad. As silly as I looked on the ground after dropping the bike, I can deal with this short term embarrassment for the potential long term benefits... I want to ride again and I want to ride longer and faster. And I will do what it takes to get there.

Update: The gas cap has been ordered and will be here next week. Oh, happy day.

Looking for panda porn?

Well the Chinese government is... Wild panda porn, in fact. Or rather panda mating habits in the wild. This is almost as funny as showing pandas sex education tapes so they can learn how to mate.

On language - &#(@^#%()!!!

I have a potty-mouth. I readily admit it. I keep it in check while I'm at work and in the presence of children. But, left without those restraints, well, I'm a New Yorker afterall... and I believe that it was Robin Williams who said that while in other parts of the world, f*ck is considered a curse, in New York, it's a comma. Genteel language is left for the upper crust (or those who believe they belong there) and the tight-assed of this world. There is so much more that can be expressed with the use of minimal words... as long as the words are properly chosen.

So, I always find it very interesting this obsession with "cleaning up the airwaves." In other parts of the world, foul language is abound on television and radio. It's really not taboo (the same can be said for nudity, but that's another post entirely). The problem is, the more taboo one makes something by saying "that's bad" or "you shouldn't use/hear that sort of language," the more fun it is to do, especially for kids. So the obsession with cleaning up foul language when it has always existed, seems to be a really silly concept.

My dad cursed like a sailor - he was briefly in the army, so perhaps he cursed like a solder? Anyway, it was always amusing when I was a kid to hear my dad go off on someone. The profanity that would come out of his mouth was made all the more amusing with the really thick Chinese accent. And pretty much nowadays, we can say whatever we want around him, as long as it's not f*ck. He actually thinks it's somewhat amusing when I curse - I still see him laugh sometimes.

I've tried to clean up my language over the years. It really hasn't worked. It doesn't suit my personality. I don't curse for the sake of cursing - there's no point to that. Usually, whatever comes out of my mouth comes in the context of the conversation or the emotion that I'm trying to express. And that's the whole point of language... isn't it?

Fugitive golf...

For a while now, I've been wanted to play a real round of golf. No driving or putting range, but on a real course. I got my chance this weekend - twice. I played with my dear brother (JK), sister-in-law (ALK) and sister-in-law-dad (BL) on Saturday, and it was a riot. Mostly because of how absolutely awful the latter two and I were. But there were some shining moments - BL sinking a par shot chipped out of the bunker, my making par on the most unexpected putt from the rough, lots and lots of shots onto the wrong fairway (making the day really hysterical, actually), etc. etc. etc... Great fun - I wanna do it again.

Well, speaking to BC on the phone on Sunday evening upon my return from NYC, he suggested that we go play on Monday (yesterday). Hey, two trips to the golf course in three days - sure, let's go for it. I've written previously that BC had tried to teach me a bit, tried to get my form up a bit. It obviously didn't translate on my first go at a round, so I hoped that with him there, I would get a little guidance.

Now, BC has told me time and time again that he is a bogey golfer - shoots 90 or so, lots of par, occasional birdie, lots of bogeys... and he warned me before we started that he had only played once this season, so not to expect anything really great. Bogey golfer my ass! Three over on the front 9 and par on what we finished of the back 9... yeah, bogey golfer - whatever. He was having a good round, and seemed surprised and happy about it. And I was there to learn, so the fact that he was doing well gave me confidence that BC wasn't talking out of his ass while giving me advice. I had a few good shots, made the green on a par 3 (woohoo!), had a few good chips, could not drive for shit, started okay on the front 9 and got progressively worse as the back 9 went on (I don't even want to know what I shot on that last par 5 we played). Meanwhile, BC was making monster drives, hitting greens, and made two birdies in a row on the back 9.

But by the 14th hole it was getting late. We were losing light, and were playing moonlight golf instead of twilight golf. Finish the hole, bring the cart back, go home content in a fun day. Well, as anyone can guess, nothing is ever that easy. When we rented the cart, the guy at the clubhouse said that we had to return the cart by sunset - 7:20. "Play until 7:20 and then come back," he said. We were out till, maybe, 7:35-7:40, so a little late, but not horribly. When we made our way back to the clubhouse, however, we found our path from the back 9 (which was across the road) blocked - by a locked gate. What the F*CK?! We weren't that late. Oh, well, let's try to find another exit. We drove around the back 9, thinking that maybe there was a way onto the road, or another path to the clubhouse, or whatever. No such luck. The path circled around by the end, and the only way out was this locked gate. Fine.

Unload the clubs, jump over the fence, leave the cart at the gate. Let's just get to the car and go home... er... um... we have a problem. OH F*CK! THE EXIT GATE IS LOCKED!! How the HELL are we supposed to get the car out?!?! Well, as the old saying goes - if you don't have a door, make one. The course was separated from the road by a wooden fence - each section was 4 boards nailed into 2 posts. We drove a bit away (probably not far enough, now that I think about it) from the parking area and chose our target. "Anyone coming?" "Nope, no cars." BC made a few good swings and kicks... and we had ourselves a way out. Pull the car into the road... and we try to fix the fence (only one of the boards really broke, and one was already broken). "Car coming..." Dodedodedo... back to work. Ah, screw it. We tried the best we could.

Once we got in the car and started driving away, we both started hysterical laughing. Oh, geez. Who the hell has ever heard of breaking an exiting - out of a golf course! It just seems so ridiculous! Well, I've always had a talent for getting myself into ridiculous situations... I have to be consistent, you know? I guess we're never going back there to play golf again!

Power between the legs, part II

It's been too long since my last post, darn it, and much has happened. We returned to the Bethesda Crab House the very next week after the last post with Felumpfus in tow, as she informed me that she had not yet sampled this year's crop of crabs! Well, obviously, that needed to be remedied. And we went (JS, Fel and I) and feasted till we were full, perhaps overfull, downing a pitcher of Sam Adams and much corn in addition to just under 3 dozen crabs... ahhhh. Needless to say, when we returned home, we all reveled in our respective food comas on the couch.

The mighty Thor has a new playmate - no, we did not get a new dog. But we did get new neighbors, one of whom is a darling 7 year old girl... 7 going on 30, who knocks on the door and very politely says, "If you want, you can let Thor come over for a little while. We can take him for a walk and stuff... of course, if you want." Cracks me up every time. She's going to be a politician someday, or she may just simply take over the world. When I speak to her, I forget that she's just 7. She's far more eloquent than many adults that I know.

The most exciting news, however, is that I had my motorcycle riders course over Labor Day weekend. Two days of classroom, two days on the range. It was awesome! It amazes me that in those two days, I learned to operate this fabulous 2 wheeled machine... Going from timidly letting the clutch out to get the bike to even move, to wanting to go faster and faster, changing gears and rolling the throttle. Yeah, sure, I didn't get the bike past 25 mph in 3rd gear. But I was doubtful that I would even learn to shift gears - in the beginning, every time I shifted, my bike would cut out, so I obviously had my doubts on whether I would ever get it. I did, however, get really adept at starting up my bike.


We were taught on old Honda Nighthawk 250s. These are 234cc pieces of crap, but it got the job done. It is impossible to find neutral in these bikes when you want to. But when you're trying to shift from 1st to 2nd or downshift from 2nd to 1st - oh yeah, you can find it then, just when you don't want it. I hit neutral a number of times when I thought I was shifting to 2nd. Let me tell you, it's not a nice surprise to roll on the throttle and literally go nowhere fast.

After two full days of learning, riding, swerving, leaning and quick breaking, we took our course test. I learned a couple of things about myself - I can't do a figure 8 in a 20 x 40 foot box and I apparently make a really funny face when I perform a quick break. I was nervous, since I had put my foot down a number of times in the figure 8 exercise, and really didn't know where else I would have lost points. But, I passed! And now I have a shiny certificate which I will take to the MVA (and sit for hours and hours) to get that fantastic little 'M' on my license.

What's really cool is that BC seems willing to let me ride his extra bike, once he gets it up and running. I had been jokingly asking/begging him since I signed up for my course, but really didn't think he would. So when I was speaking to him on Monday, all excited from passing my test, I was quite surprised and really happy when he brought it up. I am excited and exhilarated, and really can't wait to get back on a bike.

Bring us another dozen!

Yes, it's nearing the end of summer. And in Maryland that can mean only one thing - the peak of blue crab season. I realized that I didn't have any crabs yet this season (not even a crab cake) last week, and this definitely needed to be remedied. Luckily for me, while reading The DCist, I saw that the Washington Post published their Best Bets 2005 list. I had hit paydirt. Being new to the DC area, I had no idea where to go for good crabs - I know a couple of places in Baltimore. And though it's not outside of my nature to drive for good food, I wanted to find somewhere more local.

So here is this year's list of the top crab places. The fact the Phillips Seafood is on the list disturbed me a little. But I read the review for the Bethesda Crab House and decided - YES, we must go get crabs! So JS and I made a plan, reserved our crab feast for Friday at 7pm, and ventured off to find this Best Bet.

Well, this place was a little hard to find. First - Parking in Bethesda SUCKS. Be also, we originally thought we had passed it. We drove by a whole bunch of restaurants and thought that this place surely had to have been on that block. But no. We continued our way down Bethesda Avenue, and began to worry when we started to approach car dealerships... where the hell is this place? Well, situated at the end of a block of car dealerships and garages, was the crab house. Little, old bar like, faux paneled walls, newspaper on the tables, and absolutely packed. This was definitely the place.

JS and I ordered our crab feast - all you can eat "small" crabs, corn on the cob and slaw. The slaw was barely passable. The corn was perfect - Maryland being the home of the best white corn. And their "small" crabs were closer in size to the mediums, so all the better for us. I had heard it was a good season (last season was particularly excellent, so I was hoping for at least that much), but I wasn't prepared for just how good. We got our crabs, grabbed our mallets and started smashing.

By the end, I had consumed a nice round dozen along with 2 ears of corn and JS (more of a crab novice, but definitely getting the hang of it) had 9 with 4 ears of corn. We were stuffed and oh, so happy. So for any of my dear friend not in Maryland with easy access to these wonders of yumminess - come down and visit before the end of October (and that's really beginning to push it). We want to go back to the Crab House, and we want to bring friends!

I C U P

Eventually, I suppose in our never-ending quest to find renewable fuel sources, it would come to this - a disposable battery powered on, you guessed it, pee. It makes sense, when you think about it. One's urine contains a whole host of ions and minerals excreted from the body. Perfect for creating the chemical reaction which makes a battery work. It also makes sense in the practical medical sense - you have so many tests in which you would use urine, why not make the urine power your test equipment as well. And the supply is endless!

It just caught my attention to see the headline: Scientists create pee powered battery. Just seeing the word pee in a headline makes me giggle a little.

And for all my Singaporean friends... notice where this wonder of technology was developed.

Saved for now

When I read a few months ago that CBGB's may be evicted from it's home in the East Village, I was shocked. This place is a landmark in modern punk and rock. The place where the Ramones and Blondie began their luminous careers, along with dozens of others. So today's ruling, which ruled that CBGB's could not be unceremoniously evicted from it's home on Bowery, was a great relief to fans of music and for New York natives, like myself. Having lived, worked and gone to school in the neighborhood, the idea that there would be no CBGB's was ... unthinkable. Hopefully, CBGB's and their landlords can come up with a new lease deal that will let the club remain a fixture in the East Village for many, many years to come.

My hero!

Sometimes there are people out there who just inspire you with actions. Hearing what MS did this evening was one of those enspiring moments:

G: Bob says that you are beautiful and I agree with him.
MS: I don't care what Bob thinks, what do you think?
G: I said that I agree with him.
MS: You're not good at this are you?
G: No
MS: Repeat after me - MS, I think you are beautiful.

Not many people have the balls to just lay it out there. Nor are there many people who will just not take the bullshit and call the person on it. Tonight, MS is my personal hero.

Another story...

Well, as I said in my previous post, other than my return trip from San Juan, my trip to PR was fantastic. Here's the other story...

After spending a lovely morning and lunch in Old San Juan with SA and her cousins (the kids are too freaking cute), I was off to the airport. Arriving a good hour before boarding time, I had time to relax, make a few phone calls and wander. (An hour is about the upper limit to the time I can spend in an airport without wanting to jab a needle in my eye.) Unlike my flight to PR, my return trip was not direct - there was to be a short layover in Miami before jetting off to DC. And that's where things went, as Lewis Black so eloquently puts it, awry. We actually landed in Miami 15 minutes early. I thought to myself, "Oh, this is great. We'll get in a little early, then I don't have to rush to my next gate," as my connecting flight was in a little more than an hour. American Airlines apparently had other plans...

We sat on the runway for 45 minutes. That's right, sat. Didn't move, no info, just that the gate we were supposed to be going to was still occupied by a plane and there was no other gate free. Mind you, Miami International Airport is HUGE. I really mean huge. It was hard to believe that there were no gates available. But that's what we were being told... so we sat. Everyone in the plane getting anxious as it was obvious that I was not the only one with a connecting flight, time quickly ticking away.

Finally, after 45 minutes, we began to move, slowly, toward a gate. We parked in gate A21. My connecting flight was leaving from gate D34. There is literally over a mile of airport to cover between them. And by the time I actually de-planed, I had less than 10 minutes to get there. Needless to say, I hauled ass as hard as I could... falling on the escalator (no clutz jokes from anyone, please), knocking people over, stepping on feet, and screaming apologies along the way. Well, while I can run a 10 minute mile, I cannot do it weaving between people, with luggage, going up and down escalators in an airport in which I've never been before. There were times I wasn't sure I was even going in the right direction.

Needless to say, I missed my flight. By 8 minutes. Dammit. Making things worse, the next flight to Dulles was not until 4pm the next afternoon (it was slightly after 8pm at this point). But the guy at the gate assured me that my hotel, dinner and everything would be covered as this was the airline's fault and not weather related. All I needed to do was go to the ticket counter and talk with them to get everything in order. This was not as easy as it sounds. I waited on a long ass line of people, who, like me, missed their connecting flights because we were just sitting on the runway. After an hour of waiting on line, I was told at the ticket counter that the delay was weather related (apparently there was lighting earlier in the day, which delayed some planes, which caused us to get stuck) and that the airline would not be covering hotel or anything else for that matter. After trying to explain it to me again and again, I still did not get why other planes being delayed by weather made my plane, which landed EARLY, be classified as weather related. If that were the case, every flight delay could be reasoned to be weather related.

Well, they were kind enough (*sarsastic sneer*) to give me a discount coupon for a nearby hotel and booked the first flight out of Miami the next morning, which, unfortunately, did not fly into Dulles, but into Reagan. But at that point, I was not going to spend the day in the airport, waiting for an afternoon flight, which would likely be delayed due to weather again as the forcast was predicting the same kind of thunderstorms and lightning that caused me to miss my flight in the first place.

I did finally make it home. Missed a day of work. BC was very generous to not only pick me up for work the next day (I unfortunately made him wait for 20 minutes, as I locked myself out of my apartment - not a good week, as we can see. I'm still really sorry about that, BC), but also to drive me down to Dulles to pick up my car (which promptly got a flat the next morning - again, not a good week). I was very greatful.

The moral of this story: plan for the worst; and American Airline SUCKS!

Puerto Rico, You Lovely Island...

Island of tropical breezes...



Sorry, West Side Story flash there. But seriously, I have to thank MS for inviting me (well, not so much inviting me as to say, "I think you need to come with me to Puerto Rico") to join her for the weekend in Puerto Rico. I had such a fabulous time. Relaxed, fun, adventurous... it was one of the dew times in my life where I felt like I did so much and nothing all at once. It was great.

I arrived, I got to the hotel, and I was by the pool in a flash. I think one of the great highlights of the trip was the evening after arriving. MS, TI and I went on a night kayaking tour in Fajardo to a bioluminescent lagoon. Probably one of the coolest things I've ever seen. After kayaking through a tortuous route among attacking mangrove trees (more on this later), we entered the lagoon where disturbing the water produces the most amazing green luminescence (I could go into the science, but I'll try not to geek out). We jumped in, swam around, all the time producing these beautiful green glowing wakes behind and around ourselves. I'm not sure I'll ever see anything quite like it again.

Now, about the attacking mangroves... well, the mangroves overhung our route quite a bit and it was pitch black except for the little glow sticks on the kayaks in front or behind us (MS was actually in the lead kayak, so she was paddling into complete darkness). Well, on the way there and especially on the way back, the steering and directing of the kayak was ... well, not good. On the way back we were paddling against the current, so coupled with the tiredness that already set in, we did not do so well. And I clotheslined myself, with my paddle bar catching on mangrove branches... twice. Needless to say, we got back safely, although I was doubtful my head was going to stay attached there for a while.

Everything about the trip was great. We stayed at the El San Juan Hotel, which was fantastic. Old San Juan is a beautiful and colorful area, with the Spanish influences on the buildings very apparent. The food was great - although I don't think I ate a vegetable the entire weekend. The only thing that wasn't great was the trip back... but that's another story.

More pictures on Flickr.

Wild about Harry, part II

I finished Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince last night - at a little after 1am. After getting past a certain point, there was just no putting it down. I would not have been able to sleep for wondering what was going to happen next. And... OH MY GOD. I cannot even begin to describe the emotional roller-coaster.

It really is amazing. JK Rowling has created a world so brilliant and detailed, so vividly emotional, that it's easy to get attached to these characters that you have seen age and grow, making choices good and bad, having you want to scream "NO!" when something goes terribly awry and laugh out loud when things go wonderfully right.

I was an emotional wreck while reading the last few chapters of the book. And apparently I was not the only one. But it is clear to me, now more than ever, that JK Rowling is not going to pull any punches. Anything is up for grabs in the final book. And that is truly what makes these books so engaging.

I'm loud! I'm proud! Call me geek!

Yes, yes. I am a geek. Always have been. So it was kind of funny this morning, when I read this article (taking a break from Harry Potter) about how geek is the new cool. Now that, to me, is just disheartening. I have spent so many years trying to become comfortable in my geekiness, being socially awkward, blunt, and definitely looking the part, that it concerns me that this trend is happening. Why? Because like all trends, this one will likely fade, and all those geek kids who are finally being accepted or at least not ridiculed as often, will again be excluded, laughed at, and become victims of atomic wedgies.

For a long time I tried everything I could to do to NOT be the geek - thinking that clothes or make-up or a new hair style, trying to figure out what was popular, would be the key somehow. But, I had no fashion sense, my mom did horrible things to my hair as a youth, and as much as I tried, I really was never interested in what was "popular." As I got older and was able to begin surrounding myself with people who were more like me, I realized that there was nothing that I had to be ashamed of. There were many more people like me than I had thought and there was absolutely no reason why I needed to fit the popular or accepted mold. How boring would that be?

Anyway, why do I wax philosophical about this? Because reading that article made me realize that, no matter what, a geek will always be a geek. We may not have the outward appearance or awkwardness we had as youths. But that's because, once accepting the true nature of who and what we were, we've become more comfortable in our own skins and become more confident in the people we are. Yes, we play computer games or video games, watch cartoons and Sci Fi channel, and have huge philosophical debates about Star Trek vs. Star Wars. But we are also the CEOs of tech firms and biotech companies, the scientists and engineers who keep this world running. And most importantly - we are the people who can fix your computers!

So, are you a geek? Find out. Take the test. (I scored a 77% - oh yes, I'm a geek)

Wild about Harry

As everyone in the known universe has probably heard, the New Harry Potter Book is out. So I'll have my nose in a book for at least the next few days. When I come up for air, I'll post again... or if there's something really exciting, I'll just gush a bit - with no spoilers, I promise.

Happy reading to all those who, like me, are addicted to this series.

Marked

There are people out there who don't understand the beauty of the tattoo. I've heard people say things to the affect of "why would you do that to yourself?" and "you know, when you get older, it'll look like crap." But I happen to love tattoos, as long as they are tasteful and truly express the personality of the wearer. I think that's the most important part of it... that the image or words that you choose to permanently mark yourself with is truly a reflection of you.

I have wanted a tattoo for a very long time. I knew where I wanted it. I knew generally how big a tattoo I wanted. But I really didn't know what I wanted until recently. I've thought on and off over the years of what image I wanted imprinted on me. And while many of the ideas were cool or fun, none of them really seemed me. Until recently, I thought I would never figure it out and that I would just pine away wanting a tattoo and never actually getting it. But after just some general imaginings over the past couple of weeks, I came up with it. And once I thought of it, it was like a bolt of lightning, and I knew. It was time to get it. So I took the plunge and was so incredibly happy when I saw the result. It was perfect. And more importantly, it was me.

So, here it is...

mobius
Originally uploaded by Lady N'il.

Goin' to the chapel of love...

This past Friday, July 8th, marked a most momentous occassion - my dear brother, Jay got married to his soul-mate, Angela. I don't use the term soul-mate lightly. I knew that Angela was the one Jay was going to marry from the first time I met her. It was that easy to tell. And I cannot ask more of a new sister-in-law. Because she is fantastic and they are a fantastic couple.

So I raise my glass to the beautiful new husband and wife. I know this is a marriage that will last. Now, I'm just waiting for new nieces and nephews!

Blood, pasta, duckpin and a rumble

Yesterday was an interesting and fun-filled day. BC and I decided (or rather I asked and he concurred) that since we will be going our separate ways for the next two weeks (coincidentally, for wedding related reasons, neither of which are our own), we would spend the evening doing... something. That something was kind of hard to come up with. Partly because the weather forecast looked rather unpredictable. The other reason being the fact that both of us signed up to give blood, which makes a whole array of activities off limits for at least 24 hours. (side note: I successfully banked my pint, but BC ran into some problems with his phlebotomist, who apparently could not get the rather large needle in his much larger veins, on both arms, and getting more blood on his pants than in the bag. He looked like a heroin addict with bad aim - sorry BC) So after going down the list of our usual activities (golf, drink, food, etc.), nothing seemed to jump out, at least not in the immediate area around work. So, we decided to hang by his house, up in Hagerstown, giving us plenty of options to do anything or nothing at all (if the weather decided to be evil).

Leaving work a little early to beat the traffic, I headed to BC's place (BC had already left since he gets in at 6am - crazy). First things first, when I arrive there is the tour of the house - or rather a tour of all the improvements made to the house since the last time I was there: the really cool yellow, fish bathroom; the newly cleaned, primed and stained deck, complete with tiki torches; newly built pieces of furniture; a cute little flower patch, freshly weeded; and of course the new alarm system - which talks.

Now, what to do, what to do? Bowling. We drive over to the bowling alley to discover that it will not be open for another hour... change of plans. Time to kill. Stomachs growling. To the grocery we go. BC said earlier in the day that he would amaze me with his cooking skills and make shrimp penne with a vodka cream sauce, which happens to be one of my favorite pasta dishes. So, off to get supplies and then home to cook. BC definitely knows his way around the kitchen (and around his mystery spice rack, as I call it, as none of the spice jars are labeled) and the dinner did not disappoint, as much as he may insist that it was only average. A short plop in front of the TV to let the food coma pass and back to the bowling alley we go.

They didn't have any regular bowling lanes open. Apparently there was a league getting ready to start. So we decided to give duckpin bowling a shot. What a strange game. We didn't quite get the rules. Thank goodness for the counter guy coming over when we looked obviously confused. Basically, you're throwing a shotput at pins, which are not set up like regular bowling, and the pins are about half the size of regular bowling pins. It's much harder than it looks. The ball definitely doesn't go where you want it or where you even think it will go. And we found out very quickly that throwing it harder or faster doesn't really help all that much. It's also really easy to throw the ball down the lane, think that you're going to get a lot, and just end up picking off one pin at a time. It's very hard to get a strike (although BC did manage 2 in 3 games). Really quite irritating, yet strangely fun. We didn't do so bad. BC scored 110, 106 and 120, while I scored 74, 72 and 97 (woohoo). We obviously were saving ourselves for the last game... yeah, that's it. We almost played a fourth game, but it we were there for an hour and it was about time we left. Besides it was still light out, there were plenty of other things to do... namely, the motorcycle.

Aaahhh, the motorcycle. Sun going down, balmy summer evening, and us on the bike. BC decided on the cruiser since we'd be going up and down some fun hills and he didn't want to bottom out his V-max. We were out for a good long ride, about 30 miles or more I think, from what I could see on the odometer. Jumped on the highway for an exit, which was a little scary at first, but I got over it. Hit some really fun hills, which BC didn't take quite so fast for my benefit - I would not have minded getting some air and I told him that for the next time. It started to spit a little while we were out and I was a little worried, but the rain stayed away. Riding at night is a different feeling than riding in the day. Headlights coming at you, the road lit by the your one headlight, cool breeze... I don't know. Just different. And just as fun, if not more so than I remember. Far too much fun to really describe. It just makes me more excited for my class at the end of the summer.

End of the night. Time to go home. Bye bye, see you in two weeks. (and BC, as much as I enjoyed your play by play description of what should go in this entry, I think my way is better)