Interpretive Dance Remix

Destinations Known

2010-06-16T22:08:00.001-05:00

Land's End
Originally uploaded by JWEral

Today I selected the third and fourth rotations of my final year of graduate school. I will meander from a regional medical center in central Minnesota to a suburban outpatient orthopedic clinic in the Twin Cities to another outpatient orthopedic clinic in the exurbs to a level 1 trauma center not far from my house. After that? No idea.

I'm mulling over the option of applying for a residency in neurologic physical therapy after graduation. It would give my specialized training in working with patients with spinal cord injuries, traumatic brain injuries, stroke, or degenerative neuromuscular conditions. Only problem is that there aren't many of those residencies around, and enrolling in one would mean moving someplace new. Neither one of us are totally sure about that at the moment.

But still. Classes will be done in early August. One week off, then we get tossed into the deep end to see if we know how to swim.

Possibly the last academic paper I will have to write (but not likely)

2010-04-22T18:24:00.001-05:00

Panorama1
Originally uploaded by Axle Adams

Dateline: nearing the conclusion of year 2 of grad school.

What I should be doing: writing a paper on the pros and cons of constraint-induced movement therapy in pediatric hemiplegic spastic cerebral palsy.

What I am doing: not that.

A couple months ago, we had a minor plumbing catastrophe in our bathroom. A shut-off valve disconnected from its supply line, shooting a very steady stream of water all over our second floor. Lots of mayhem, lots of running amok, lots of gnashing of teeth.

Since that day, we have hired a plumber, a painter, bought a new water heater, had some repair work done on our chimney, and spotted all sorts of other projects-in-waiting around the house. There's a small voice inside that keeps telling me to torch the place and build a new house from scratch. I'm not yet convinced, though I'm putting up less of a fight with my conscience these days.

School continues. Somewhere less than four months of class left (including a three-week break) before we scatter to the winds and begin our clinical rotations. I am simultaneously thrilled with the opportunity to practice what I've learned and scared to death to be responsible for an actual patient. The interaction between me and my first patient will be classic:

Me: "Hi there! I'm Andy and I'll be your physical therapist today."

Patient: "Great! What shall we do first?"

Me: "..."

(Then I stare blankly for a couple minutes, get all pale and clammy, then run away.)

Midway

2009-12-20T16:39:00.001-06:00

SF law enfacement
Originally uploaded by lomokev

Two finals down, two to go and this fall semester will be a fading memory. And then I will dance a small jig because I will have finished my last fall semester of classwork, I will have bid adieu to stats, and I will be embarking on a delicious four week break.

I'd like to blame grad school for just about everything I've put off this year. I'm hoping to start a new writing project soon, but we'll see when that happens. No timetables, no deadlines. But something new. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can visit a little more often while I have some free time.

I miss taking pictures too.

Love is being bored by yourself

2009-06-24T23:06:00.001-05:00

AT-AT (Meadow), originally uploaded by NickIsConfused.

I have been living a bachelor's life for the past few days, and let me tell you, it is BORING. After the first 36 hours of eating pizza, drinking beer, shunning pants, and watching old episodes of The Simpsons, it gets old. The house starts to look messy. The dog wants to be fed again.

I had a couple of beers tonight with a good friend whom I haven't seen in years. He lives in Denver and we've never been good about staying in touch. It was marvelous to reestablish connections and draw lines from our last points of connection to today. He's gonna be a world-changer someday and I'll be happy to say I knew him when. Going into alternative energy management and making the world go without polluting the waters, the skies, the land. Your car might run on bunny farts and morning dew and it could be because of my friend. Changing the world, I tell you.

We're all gonna be world-changers someday. We knew each other when. At least, that's the hope.

What's next?

2009-05-26T19:21:00.002-05:00

Northfield,MN
Originally uploaded by Donavon.

Dateline: vacation.

Anna and I are wrapping up a very necessary retreat to her homeland, about to return home tomorrow and reunite ourselves with backed up mail, an overgrown lawn, and (hopefully) a progressing Vegetable Factory.

I spent a few wonderful days with five dear friends at the Miller Cottage. Most of us were college roommates. One was grandfathered into the group by way of workplaces and kickball teams. There was the retelling of classic tales, the listening to of old vinyl LPs (Led Zeppelin IV on the original wax? At my in-laws' cottage? Are you kidding me?), the playing of bocce and boardgames, and the repeated exposure of one's backside. (It goes with the territory of my friends, I suppose.)

Anna and her family joined me for the rest of the extended weekend. There was less exposed backside (probably better for everyone), more good cooking, and lots of paperback reading. If you're in the mood for an action-packed murder-mystery-suspense-adventure book under 400 pages, this cottage has got its own library. Feel like some John Grisham? Maybe some Ken Follett? Robert Ludlum, perhaps? They've got you covered.

There was also some movie watching. Finally saw Star Trek. Now I want to join Starfleet.

Soon I will jump into Year 2 of this graduate school experiment. Year 1 was successfully completed a couple weeks ago and the break has been a good one. I'm certainly ready for the next year to begin. Gonna try to ride my bike to and from school as much as possible. Ask me in six weeks how well that is going.

Ask me about neuroscience

2009-05-13T15:17:00.001-05:00

Mountain Goat on Beartooth
Originally uploaded by johnchamilton

A week ago, I could've told you all sorts of tidbits about the nervous system. I knew its inner workings and functions and what structure connected to which area and by which tract it got there.

Today, I can't remember a damn thing about it and it feels great.

I finished my first year of graduate school last Friday. It has been a wonderful, difficult, challenging, and rewarding span of time. I dissected a human cadaver, held a few brains in my hand, shocked my classmates (and got shocked myself), theorized about what causes bunions, studied the intricacies of how our kidneys work, and become intricately involved at a free health care clinic. It's been a busy year.

Now, it's time to enjoy a few weeks of rest before I dive back into the fray. I'm happy to say I have no med school classes this term, and will safely retreat to the comfort of the PT program. Instead of physiology and neuroscience, I get to learn about wound care. Bedsores, here I come!

First ride of the season

2009-03-29T21:29:00.002-05:00

-
Originally uploaded by _Haru88

A beautiful spring day, perfect for a brisk ride around my town. 6.5 miles, to be exact. (I'm really going to try to keep track of my mileage this year. For reals.) It felt great. I got to sport my new brighter-than-the-sun day-glo green long-sleeve jersey. I also pulled something in my hip trying to swing my leg over the saddle. Fell over the bike in the process too. Awesome.

And just when the warm weather gets up enough courage to get over its last broken heart, that bastard Winter comes back. We're supposed to get 3-6" of snow tomorrow night. That Winter's a real asshole.

(Sorry, Mom. I know you read my blog but sometimes I gotta swear at the weather.)

This past weekend was filled with goodness. Two wonderful movies at the Riverview Theater (Frost/Nixon on Friday night, Milk on Saturday night). Drinks with friends after watching Sean Penn act his heart out. Our church choir sang at a beautiful neighbor church (with whom our church will probably merge in the next year or so, also within walking distance of our house), then we joined a friend of Anna's for brunch at Spill the Wine in downtown Minneapolis. (Sidebar: for diehard St. Paulites, we spent a lot of time in Minneapolis this weekend. Don't tell anybody, ok?) So what if I put off studying for too long? I was on spring break! This relaxing weekend with my honey was worth every minute.

Do I remember how to relax?

2009-03-19T22:39:00.001-05:00

Iota
Originally uploaded by emoeby

Spring is breaking right now and I don't know what to do with myself. I've been running at such a tilt for so long now that doing nothing in the evening will feel wrong somehow. Granted, I could certainly spend every moment of free time this coming week with my nose buried in notes and textbooks, but I'm not gonna. I'ma go for a few bike rides. Take a mess of pictures. Learn to cook some new meals.

I'm roughly 3/4 done with my first year of graduate school. A lot of it is just what I expected but there are unforeseen aspects too. Some good, some not so good. It can't all be sunshine and giggle drops, though, can it? No, it can't.

Glowing Cities Under a Nighttime Sky

2009-03-06T07:47:00.001-06:00

Glowing Cities Under a Nighttime Sky
Originally uploaded by Ettubrute

Just heard a great quote while listening to the "Somewhere Out There" episode of This American Life:

"No one ever asks 'how did you two stay together?' Everyone always asks 'how did you two meet?'"

The person who said that also talks about how the story of staying together is a private story, not meant for the public to hear. And while I agree that every couple's struggles to stay together when love matures beyond the falling stage is a very private and personal thing, I bet a lot of couples could stand to benefit from the wisdom of those couples that succeeded. Or are succeeding, I should say. I don't know if there's ever a time when a couple has "succeeded" and can stop trying.

Maybe that's part of the wisdom right there.

What's the answer to the unsolvable problem?

2009-03-02T20:34:00.002-06:00

Morning Canoe
Originally uploaded by peter bowers

Some more thoughts on this healthcare earwig that's been burrowing in my brain for a while now.

I mentioned earlier how I thought healthcare was a basic human right, and I still believe that. But I'm not naive enough to ignore the fact that someone will have to pay to ensure that the system works.

Many countries have instituted universal health care systems to varying degrees of success. I'm not about to start spouting off stats that will sway you one way or another, but I think lots of folks would agree that some of these systems are broken. Well intended, but broken. Long waits to see a doctor. Nearly bankrupt systems. Skyrocketing costs that no one truly grasps.

Let's talk about that aspect for a moment. I participated in a seminar this weekend about reimbursement in the health care profession (something I will need to know inside and out in a few years), and it evolved into a spirited debate about health care reform and the pros and cons of universal vs. privatized health care.

Right now we Americans "enjoy" privatized health care. Health insurance started in Texas and eventually became what we know as the Blue Cross Blue Shield organization. It was a good way for a hospital to make money and keep its doors open and a good way for the local community to retain affordable access to quality health care. Sometime in the mid-1900s companies realized they could use health insurance as a tool for recruiting and retaining prized employees. Thus began the concept that health insurance is tied to one's employment like two digits in a Chinese finger trap. Lose your job, lose your insurance.

One more piece: with employees paying their medical insurance premiums and little else, they didn't know or care to know what the costs of seeing a doctor or having a tooth pulled or recovering from a heart attack were. Even doctors lost sight of the exact costs because they didn't deal with invoices or insurance contracts either. Accounts Payable did that, not medical professionals.

(Full disclosure: I used to work for a prominent medical technology company. In the course of my job, I learned at what price we sold our products and at what cost we manufactured them. I knew our rough profit margins. It was big. And while some people made lots of money through the sale of these products, a very large chunk of this company's profits went back into R&D. This company felt very strongly about being an ethical company and a good global citizen. And even though I no longer work for this company, I agreed with their philosophy and still hold the company in high regard. Even though my views on health care could be called socialist, I am no stranger to capitalism either.)

So...patients aren't paying directly for their health care, and health care professionals don't really care what the products cost because insurance covers this stuff, right? And insurance companies can keep covering this stuff because they keep raising their premiums, right? So when does this market correct itself? Does it?

The current health care system in America (and elsewhere) is broken. People are excluded from receiving the care they need because they cannot pay for it and/or do not have a job, possibly resulting in more costly treatments for what has become more serious ailments. If we established a universal health care system, these people would be covered. But...who would pay for it? We could raise taxes to cover the costs, but 49.5% of the country would balk at that. That still leaves us with skyrocketing medical costs (my knee replacement three years ago cost about as much as a well-equipped large SUV).

How do you instill value in the health care system? If you created a universal protocol, would it remove all traces of competition and stagnate innovation? Probably not, but maybe. A free market encourages competition and new ideas, and usually results in better products at a lower price, which is fantastic for the consumer. But are we really "consumers" when it comes to our health care? I don't think so. We feel sick so we go to our doctor. How did you choose this doctor? Has your family gone to this doctor for years? Was it the closest clinic to your home or work? Did he look like Dr. McDreamy? Did you shop around at all?

So your doc runs some tests to see if you are sick. Do you know how much these tests cost? (Probably not.) Are they expensive? (Probably.) Are they necessary? I would like to believe that they are. I don't think that medical professionals as a whole are simply there to make money. I like to think they truly have my best interests at heart, and that means that they only order tests that they think will help determine a cause or help cure what ails you and me. But still, did you shop around to see if another doctor offers that same test for less? We compare prices on just about everything else we buy. Why not medicine?

So...how do we create a system that offers universal health care but has value? How do we ensure that you or I or our parents or our children will be able to receive the medical attention they need when they need it? And how do we set things up so that the customer doesn't get saddled with massive amounts of debt in the process? How do we drive health care costs down? How do we continue to develop new medical techniques and technologies? Should insurance be more affordable and not so tightly interwoven with employment? How do we fix this broken mess?

I don't know. I just want to paddle a canoe at sunrise like that guy above.

What is a human right to you?

2009-01-29T23:18:00.002-06:00

Poetry for Poverty
Originally uploaded by Jerry L.

I am a graduate student in a program that will establish me in a career in health care. The university where I attend has many different programs that are training the health care professionals of tomorrow: medicine, nursing, pharmacy, physical therapy, public health, dentistry, occupational therapy, etc. We are all young and idealistic and sleep deprived. It's a fun place to be for now.

Some students of these various programs come together to run a free medical clinic in a neighborhood of the city that really could use a few breaks. Lots of people living below the poverty line. Lots of immigrants. Lots of people unemployed or under-employed. Lots of folks with no health insurance and no access to primary health care. This student-run clinic offers them a chance to receive some care (all under the supervision of licensed medical professionals, but largely provided by the students themselves). The clinic isn't intended to be a regular primary clinic, more of a safety net. Nonetheless, we see lots of repeat visitors.

The clinic has its own lab, a dispensing pharmacy, a physical therapy facility, a community health worker, and if we're lucky, a nutritionist, licensed therapist, and a social worker (along with the usual cadre of second-year med students acting as clinicians). When we're fully staffed, we can cover most anything that a regular primary care facility can handle.

The patients we see are never charged anything for the care they receive. Ever. We even try to sign them up for any state-subsidized health insurance plans if they qualify (though, thanks to our fiscally conservative governor faced with a mounting budget deficit, those programs may well be discontinued, forcing over 100,000 people to lose their health insurance).

Tonight I worked with a patient who was struggling with depression. He wasn't sleeping much, he had headaches, he had recently put on weight, he lost his job. He didn't really speak English very well. He walked out of the clinic tonight with a bottle of anti-depressants and an appointment to come back to talk with a therapist. He didn't pay a cent. Our clinic provided him with access to medicine that he would not otherwise have been able to afford because of our health care system.

My point so far is this: what constitutes a human right? I'm not looking for Webster's definition. I'm looking for your definition. Does "unlimited and universal access to quality health care" count as a human right to you? It sure as hell does to me. I am incensed to think that this country refuses medical treatment to its citizens because they cannot pay the cost. Can you imagine this country if we were required to pay for the education we received? Who do you think would have gone to school? Those who could have afforded it. Those educated folks would have gone on to the well-paying jobs and had kids and sent those kids to get educated because they could afford it and the cycle repeats itself. The poor would be stuck and would never be able to rise above their station.

The same is true with health care. Right now, those who can afford it get health care. They get preventative care and live longer. They don't miss as much work or as much school. They have healthy babies who grow up to repeat the cycle. The poor can't afford health care, so they don't seek out preventative care. They wait until the problem becomes so bad as to necessitate a trip to the ER, which throws them into debt. They miss work, they miss school. They lose jobs because of the missed work or debilitating illnesses. They fall behind in school. They live shorter, meaner, nastier lives. All because we insist that basic health care should only go to those who can afford it.

Doesn't that just make you sick?

Resolution #17

2009-01-24T23:15:00.001-06:00

lights outtake from last year
Originally uploaded by massdistraction

Rather than an annual rite, I'm going to try a series of mini-resolutions. Mini-lutions. These mini-lutions have a short shelf life. They expire quickly, like dairy products or fashion trends or boy band careers.

These mini-lutions are intended to be renewed often. They require frequent attention, lots of maintenance and more than a little discipline. Best to take them in small doses. Baby steps. My attention span isn't big enough for full-grown resolutions anyway.

Mini-lution #17 is to stop procrastinating.

That's it.

Also, I might want to consider starting a child photography service. We've been visiting a lot of friends lately who have raised some adorable (and not camera-shy) chitlins. I admit I've been impressed with the results for an amateur hack like me. Now I just gotta start charging all these friends of mine. They'll understand, right?

Looks like a new era ahead.

2009-01-20T18:18:00.001-06:00

Looks like a new era ahead.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix

Mr. President, you have the hopes of most of the world resting on your shoulders. This is more than can be expected of anyone. I hope and pray that you will act wisely in your administration, and I hope and pray that we, the American people, will act wisely as well. I hope that we do not lose hope when problems do not get magically solved within the first 100 days of your presidency. I hope the American people remember that you are not, in fact, the messiah, but that you are just a man, a human like everyone else. I hope that you are given the strength to weather the storms thrown at you, both foreign and domestic. I hope you show humility and are able to admit mistakes when they happen. I hope that we look back at your administration as the beginning of a golden age for this country, and for the world as a whole. (Why not dream big?)

In closing, Mr. President, the world is behind you. Good luck, God speed, and thanks for bringing smiles back to so many people.

Sincerely,
A-Wix

The fastest way to slow things down

2009-01-15T22:59:00.003-06:00

Skating back home
Originally uploaded by Bеn

My commitment to my higher education was affirmed yesterday during my lab for Medical Physiology. We were measuring the mean electrical axes of our hearts, an indicator of 1) the physical position of the heart within one's chest or 2) an electrical conduction problem within the heart. (I seem to be normal on both counts there.)

Our professor then told us about the diving reflex, a self-preservation trick more profoundly seen in water-diving mammals but we humans give it a pathetic effort too. In short, you stick your face in cold water and watch your heart rate plummet. (If you're into physiology, the trigeminal nerve is stimulated by the cold water, which tells the vagus nerve to fire up the parasympathetic nervous system posthaste. The parasympathetic nervous system is the opposite of the sympathetic nervous system [a.k.a. the "fight or flight" response] and generally slows things down. In cardiac terms, it puts you into bradycardia [slow heart rate], among other things, to preserve the amount of oxygen in your blood stream, and in theory, allowing you to survive longer underwater.) Our professor mentioned that the record for lowest induced heart rate was 18 beats per minute (the average resting human heart rate is around 60-70 bpm), which means that the student's heart was beating less than once every three seconds. (Count that out to yourself. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Lub dub. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Lub... dub...)

I decided to have a go at this. I was a little nervous at the beginning: my starting (resting) heart rate was 118 bpm. A few seconds after I dunked my face into the bowl of ice water, however, the diving reflex took hold. I could feel my heart beat slower and slower in my chest. I tried to clear my head and only focus on holding my breath and willing my heart to beat even more slowly. I went monk. Lub dub. Lub...dub. Lub......dub...

The professor informed me that my heart rate dropped to 32 bpm right before I came up for air (maybe 45 seconds into the experiment). Not record-setting, but still pretty astonishing. A 73% drop in heart rate in less than a minute is nothing to sneeze at.

If you're feeling adventurous (and have some means to record your heart rate, and careful friends who will make sure you don't drown/catch hypothermia), give this a try. Let me know how it goes.

I was artistically angry.

2009-01-07T22:37:00.001-06:00

IMG_6973
Originally uploaded by spear of the nation

I was very angry at many things in this particular moment:

1. The song was incredibly fast. Why did it need to rush so?
2. My part required me to play constant eighth notes throughout said fast song. Why must I play so quickly, and so much?
3. I don't play with a pick, so my fingers (all of them, alternating at one point or another) were sprinting over the strings, cramping all the while. Why don't I play with a pick?
4. That bass seemed to weigh about 400 lbs. at that point. (It didn't.) Why? Why must it seem so heavy?
5. Dels seems to be laughing at my copious misfortune. Why must he mock me so?

Thank you, spear, for capturing my angst so well.

Twelve years

2008-12-29T23:29:00.001-06:00

weeds
Originally uploaded by romanlily

On December 29, 1996, I was sledding with a few good friends, enjoying the first Christmas break of my college career. The air was cold and harsh as we flew down the hill and off the jump. It was exhilarating. We talked about how being in college was a step towards adulthood that we all embraced hesitantly; naturally, we all acted like kids that night.

On what became the last sled run of the night, I flew off the jump with extra speed and vigor. I lost my balance in mid-air and came down on both feet with my knees locked straight.

I dislocated my left knee, completely tearing my posterior cruciate ligament, my lateral collateral ligament, and biceps femoris tendon, partially tearing my medial collateral ligament, common fibular nerve, and medial meniscus, and fracturing my medial tibial plateau.

My life changed that night, veered off in a totally new direction. I went through nine surgeries to get my limb to its present state. I have an 80-year-old's knee, and it's the best they can do for me. But more than that, my life is totally different than what it would have been if not for that injury. My priorities, goals, and values wouldn't be where they are now. I wouldn't be pursuing a career that excites me, I wouldn't be passionate about the things that excite me. I wouldn't have these friends, I wouldn't have this wife. I wouldn't be me, I guess. Or I'd at least be a very different version of me. Would I like the bizarro me? Would I be all that different? I think I so.

Twelve years. Wow. No wonder it aches every time the barometer changes.

Recovery

2008-12-28T12:20:00.001-06:00

A Man on a Train
Originally uploaded by mrhollygolightly

I like to steal ideas from sermons. Anna's dad is a pastor and is, understandably, a good source of these sermons. We caught both the contemporary and traditional services at his church today, which meant that we heard his sermon twice, which I hope means that I have a pretty good grasp on what he was saying.

The post-Christmas period is a time of recovery. The magic (and/or inordinate amounts of stress) that go along with the season are gone. Time to swing back into normalcy and resolutions and elastic waistbands for a time.

Me? I'm looking forward to it. I love Xmas and all that it entails in both the theological and secular realms. But man, this can be exhausting. This deluge of family time is complimented by a lack of "normal time." I'll be ready for normal time soon.

What do you think?

Christmas brought me some tidings of great joy: I passed all of my classes and am eagerly looking forward to stressing out about the next batch. Medical neurology, here I come!

Someone found a bargain.

2008-12-17T23:07:00.001-06:00

Beach back at home
Originally uploaded by Booniewoonie

That someone is me. The U of M bookstore was selling expired rolls of Kodak Chrome slide film for $1 each. I grabbed as many as I could hold in my hand as I walked to the checkout.

I might just force myself to only use the Minolta over the holidays. This could be fun.

I remember you. We were close once.

2008-12-16T20:29:00.001-06:00

defeated...
Originally uploaded by Xaprilian

I was busy for a while though and had to take some time away. But now I've got some days to myself again. Want to hang out? Play a board game or two? Talk?

Let's talk.

What are your thoughts on fasting? Have you ever done it? From what have you fasted? Most people probably think of food when they think of fasting, and that's just fine. But you can fast from just about anything. I think fasting should be from something that gives you pleasure. Something that, being deprived of it, causes you some form of stress. It's this stress that can mold us. It's like strenuous exercise. You push yourself beyond your comfort zone (in this case by depriving yourself of something you normally enjoy) and see how your body, mind, and spirit adapt.

I have fasted from time to time before, but it's been years. I'm going to resume the habit. I'll discuss it with some friends this week and see if they want to tag along in their own way. Should be fun.

Anyhow, I think I'll be around here more often for the next few weeks. I hope to see you.

Soon I will be free

2008-12-16T08:21:00.001-06:00

Battle of the Titans
Originally uploaded by The Jer

Like in about three and a half hours, I'll be free. The last final looms ahead, but I'm not too worried about it. Thankfully this semester's final schedule started with the hardest and got easier from there. No complaints here.

The next few days will involve lots of chores, errands, and relaxing. Also some gift-wrapping. Soon it will be family time, and those times will be good.

But before any of those things can happen, I need to know about the modified modified Schober's test, the essentials of anthropometrics, and what positive muscle length tests can indicate.

Serve and volley.

Tired of this posture

2008-12-08T20:37:00.001-06:00

works of fire
Originally uploaded by sgoralnick

I returned to student-hood over three years ago with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step. I have two and a half years to go and that twinkle has dulled, the spring has flattened.

A professor told my class today that we need to "finish sprinting," meaning that we can't coast now, or give up altogether. Finals begin on Friday and soon we will be done with the second semester of our graduate careers. I hope to walk away from this semester with at least an A or two, but there's a lot to do between then and now.

Mostly I'm tired of this position of having to study. Not having an income (especially now). Not having time to relax or tackle projects or spend time with Anna or think about anything but what assignment is due next and when is the next exam. Nuts to you, syllabi.

I am going to enjoy this holiday break mightily.

Thanks

2008-11-28T22:25:00.002-06:00

Milk and Cookies., originally uploaded by .K.

English muffins with peanut butter.
Walking home, watching the leaves fall, listening to podcasts that make me feel smarter.
My wife, for she is everything I need and want without me even knowing it. You make me whole.
My friends who are artists, entrepreneurs, thinkers, doers, lovers, warriors, comedians, philosophers. You make me better.
A little dog who thinks he is a large and ferocious beast, yet succumbs to a belly scratch at the drop of a hat.
Sisters and parents and aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and grandparents. I am lucky to have you within easy reach, either physically or electronically.
Cameras and notepads and pencils and guitars. I can create with these tools. (A hammer or circular saw? Not so much.)
Freedom to worship, assemble, vote my conscience, speak freely, and do all other sorts of things that cannot be done by many people on this planet.
Higher education.
Left-overs.
Comfy slippers that are held together (quite literally) by duct tape.

The feeling after you almost lose something forever.

2008-11-06T20:17:00.001-06:00

We are awash in this currency.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix

You know that feeling? Your legs get shaky and your stomach turns and you want to weep with relief and thanksgiving and throw up all at the same time.

Win got out of the backyard this afternoon. I let him out when I got home from class and he'll often stay out there for a while. The wind had blown open one of our gates and Win decided to do what most dogs would do: he went exploring.

We live in a quiet residential neighborhood in St. Paul. Our street is pretty tame, but we're only a block away from one of the main arteries in our area. Definitely busy enough to squish a wee little dog flat.

Thankfully Win did not get squished flat. He was seen on the busy artery by a kind soul (and fellow dog-owner) who immediately scooped him up into her arms and called the phone numbers on his tag. She found him two blocks away and ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BUSY ROAD. Sounds like he wasn't eager to leave her lap either. Poor little guy must have been a-tremblin'.

It's not the first time I almost something. I hate that feeling.

The imbalanced give and take

2008-10-28T21:41:00.001-05:00

windsurfing4
Originally uploaded by FE2 Chris

Here's an open challenge to my contacts: inspire me. I'll do my best to inspire you too.

I need to see a shot of some truly amazing photos and I need them now. And while I'm waiting, I'll try to remember to keep my Olympus XA-2 cocked, locked, and ready to rock in my backpack. Sure as hell ain't lugging around one of the wide-bodies all day, that's for sure.

OK? OK.

I have staples in my head.

2008-10-18T08:19:00.001-05:00

I have staples in my head.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix

It's been a tough week academically. Two quizzes and two full-fledged exams (one complete with a practical test) take a lot out of a fella. Things like proprioception and the concept of how tall I am vs. how low that beam in the hallway is.

I picked up a book at the library for Anna and was skimming the back cover as I was walking out the hall. Head down, totally engrossed in the book, not at all engrossed in my surroundings. The pain and shock were enough to knock my on my butt. I also forgot how profusely scalp wounds bleed. I freaked out the assistant librarian when I stumbled back upstairs to her office, looking like Head-Wound Harry. (To her credit, she performed well under pressure and most certainly outside the scope of her daily duties.)

I drove myself to urgent care (A wise idea? The jury is still out.) to have it looked at. The kind doctor apologized every time he stapled the wound shut. Yep, STAPLED. He said that stitches aren't used in scalp wounds very often anymore because they cause more stress on the surrounding skin and staples tend to keep the scar smaller. I think he just enjoyed the act of taking a Swingline to my head.

Owie.

In the midst of all this wedded bliss

2008-10-04T07:06:00.003-05:00

The Inner Workings Of A Groom's Mind
Originally uploaded by Ioannis P. Skaltsas

This weekend will henceforth be known as The Weekend of Weddings. Last night we wrapped up a marvelous ceremony for two very dear friends of ours who will have very tall, very blond children. Anna was a bridesmaid, I was a greeter. I scored a wicked cool orange tie out of the gig too!

We stayed to the bitter end of the reception, which put us at home around 12:30. Win was very anxious to be let out of his kennel. I would too if I had spent 20 of the previous 24 hours in that little box. He also needed to be fed and walked. Wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't recently started the habit of not pooping until we've covered at least 2 blocks instead of the usual one. Seriously, Win. Just fire it out and let's all go to bed.

Today is Wedding #2 of The Weekend of Weddings. I am a groomsman for a very dear friend of mine and his lovely bride. I am also a member of the band that will be playing dulcet tones at the wedding reception later this evening. I am also the one member of the bridal party who does not yet have his pants. Awesome.

I couldn't go to sleep 'til you came in.

2008-09-29T17:52:00.001-05:00

IMGP1523h
Originally uploaded by norjam8

She's mixing her watercolors right now. Guster is playing on the stereo. I'm sipping on a beer and putting everything else off until later.

The new cabinets and countertops have been installed filled with the things that kitchens should hold. The new microwave is a dream of chrome-plated plastic and touch-screens. The house is so happy with the upgrade that it improved the hot water pressure to the kitchen sink, just because.

Everything would be coming up Millhouse except for the fact that lately our investment portfolio has been worth about as much as those old Soviet ruples I've been hiding under the bed. Oh yeah. Thank God I held off buying that third yacht. That would have been simply wasteful.

Because this memory is much nicer than the reality of today.

2008-09-12T15:03:00.001-05:00

Sunrise day 2
Originally uploaded by herecomesanothersongaboutmexico

My day has almost been comical in its blunders.

To begin, I left my phone on the bus this morning. More accurately, it fell out of my jacket pocket. I discovered this about 30 seconds after I got off the bus and watched it drive away. You'd think that going without a phone wouldn't be all that hard. Let us hearken back to the early 90s when no one had cell phones. We managed OK back then, I think. But jeez, it threw me for a loop. My calendar was on that phone. All my contacts. My beloved Brick Breaker game! How was I supposed to pass the time on the bus now? Stare listlessly past the shoulders of the other riders? How utterly plebian. I need gizmos!

Thankfully, Metro Transit confirmed that some kind soul had found my phone and turned it in to the bus driver. (Thank you, Kind Soul. If I ever encounter you, I hope I can return the favor somehow.) I was even told that that same bus would be driving past the U in about 20 minutes and if I meet the bus I might be able to get my phone back, just like that. So I go out to the bus stop and wait.

And wait.

A #16 bus approaches! Nope, that's not the one I rode, nor is that the same driver. Perhaps the next one.

Nope, not that one either. Hmm, it should have come by now. I did see some firetrucks go screaming by, so maybe there was a fire and that's what's delaying the bus and even though people's lives are at stake, dang it, they're holding up my bus and I NEED MY PHONE.

Oh, here it comes now. Wait, that's not the one either. WTF? The bus should have been here 20 minutes ago and I have to get back to the class I skipped out of in order to reclaim my precious Crackberry. Well, at least I know my phone is safe. I just can't get it back until Monday. Guess it's time to learn how to cope without constant communication again.

I miss you, phone. Have a good weekend.

But hey, it's just a gadget and my life will continue on just fine. After all, I just recently spent a week in the Boundary Waters (see above picture) with no forms of communication at all and things went swimmingly without me. Let's forge on with my day.

I got home and let Win out of his kennel. As I put my backpack down, it snagged on the cord for my headphones, ripping them out of my ears and then dismembering them completely. The earbuds were sheared clean off the rest of the cord, leaving me with three separate (and completely useless) parts where, just seconds ago, a perfectly good pair of headphones existed.

I miss you, headphones.

But hey, I have another pair of headphones that I can use, so life is ok. Let me just let Win back in the house from the backyard here...BANG! Oh lovely, that was my finger caught in the doorframe.

Fiddle dee dee. That will require a tetanus shot.

Can you see why I'd like to focus on that picture instead? How has your day been?

Knock that one out of the park.

2008-09-03T21:46:00.001-05:00

Fly ball to left center
Originally uploaded by herecomesanothersongaboutmexico

Governor Sarah Pailn is giving her speech at the Republican National Convention right now. Rudy Guiliani just finished his speech. Personally, these conventions (of either party) seem to be little more than an overgrown pep rally for their respective home teams. They don't say anything novel. They don't do anything but say things the party wants to hear and the crowd doesn't do anything but cheer at every other sentence. Really, what's the point? The whole convention could be distilled down to a couple hours of meetings and an official nomination and be done. It could be held in a VFW.

The summer term is thankfully over and I have emerged quite victorious. The break was entirely successful and energizing. As you can see, many rocks were struck with great vengeance and furious anger into the cold waters of the Boundary Waters. They have learned their lesson: don't tempt Andy. He will smite you with a piece of driftwood.

Now it's time to knuckle down for the fall semester. Nineteen credits await me. They await the same fate as the Very Small Rocks.

Chapters

2008-08-16T14:09:00.001-05:00

dawn passion
Originally uploaded by algo

We all pass through chapters in our life and the transitions can be subtle or harsh. Sometimes we don't even realize we've left one place and entered another. Other times it's as clear as walking through a pane of glass.

It's funny how the switch to "adulthood" is not as clearly defined as you'd think it would be from what TV would have us believe. At least not for me. A friend of mine had a much more abrupt shift, and I'm a bit jealous of him. He went from a single man to a husband and family man within the span of a year. Now he's got a house and a minivan and the special kind of chaos that comes with having three boys. It's funny how stuff like that seems attractive to me now when before it was something other people experienced and that was fine by me. It was (still is) a frightening thing, but now there is some eager anticipation with all of it too. That's the new part. The new chapter.

Where was that transition? I feel like I missed it. I guess it's OK that I didn't celebrate it but I'm not certain I want all these milestones passing me by without my noticing. Before I know it, I'll be retired with grandkids and a bad back. I guess I'd like to be prepared for those things.

I've entered a more distinct chapter as well, one that I've discussed many times before. Graduate school has been everything I have expected plus a ton of surprises, and it's only been a month. I know I'll never be socially close to a lot of my classmates (the generation gap between 25 and 30 is amazingly large), but I can integrate myself in other ways too. I'm now the liaison between my class and our professional association. Maybe they'll look up to me if I give them free mouse pads and pens. Friends like free stuff, right?

2008-08-11T13:08:00.001-05:00

TeeJay
Originally uploaded by h. nguyen

About a month ago, Anna and I went to a banquet honoring the latest inductees to the Lakeville Athletic Hall of Fame. I knew two of the inductees well; they were old family friends or former coaches and it was fun to see them be recognized.

We sat with members of the Hall and their family members. My sister Anne was a member of the inaugural class of 2005. Next to her was Heidi, her former volleyball teammate in high school. My parents were also there. Across the table from us sat Todd and Barb Bachman, parents of Wiz, a high school classmate and friend of mine.

I have known the Bachmans casually for years. Their oldest daughter was near in age to my oldest sister Jen. Wiz and I were always the tallest kids in our class. The Bachmans were truly some of the nicest people I've ever met.

The attack on the Bachmans has become international news by now. Anna and I were in Beijing in June and were excitedly telling Todd and Barb about all the places we saw and how much fun they would have on their trip. We even drove past the Drum Tower. They were so eager to go.

I still can't really believe it.

The Point of Too Much Intimacy

2008-08-05T12:43:00.001-05:00

Originally uploaded by Salva López

I'm over halfway through what is turning out to be one of the most challenging courses I have ever undertaken. The academic side of things isn't the issue; I feel comfortable with the material and the pace at which it comes at us. In fact, I just received my midterm grade and I'm pleased to say that I'm within striking distance of an A if I persevere. It's not the book-learnin'. It's the dissection.

You see, we've been steadily disassembling this former person so that the cadaver looks less and less like a human and more and more like some kind of alien thing, something out of a science fiction/horror film. While that isn't surprising me, the intangible factors surrounding the dissection are what get me.

Last week I held the brain in my hands. The organ that ancient Egyptians saw as worthless and disposed of before mummifying their dead. The jumbly mass of tissue that controls our every thought, action, sensation, and myriad functions of which we are completely oblivious (how often do you think about breathing or beating your own heart during the day?). I held this person's brain, and marveled at how this organ once defined nearly every aspect of that person, and now could be broken down even further into lobes and gyri and sulci and such. If I could have somehow placed this brain in a robot and turned it back on, would that same person be in the robot now? Is that what defines who we are?

Today I removed the contents of the abdominal cavity. There is no way to describe this activity as anything but gross (death is not kind to the digestive tract), but it is simultaneously incredible to see how we are put together. Our innards are placed just so and fit snugly and function with and apart from the other organs without any acknowledgement from us. They are only considered when they fail, never when they succeed. Sorry, organs. I won't ignore you anymore. Way to go, spleen! Keep up the good work, gall bladder!

(Despite all this body cavity spelunking, I still haven't found the soul...)

If I were an extensor digiti minimi...

2008-07-23T13:09:00.001-05:00

A beautiful but deadly sport
Originally uploaded by herecomesanothersongaboutmexico

...I would be on the posterior side of the forearm, originating at the common extensor tendon, with my tendon running through the 5th tunnel of the extensor retinaculum, inserting on the extensor expansion on the little finger. I would be innervated by the radial nerve (mostly from C7 and C8) and I would be responsible for extending the metacarpal-phalangeal (MP), proximal interphalangeal (PIP), and distal interphalangeal (DIP) joints of the little finger. And I would be awesome.

Thank you for studying with me.

it's in the details.

2008-07-17T13:53:00.001-05:00

it's in the details.
Originally uploaded by m a y a*

Four days into this graduate school journey and I haven't puked yet. This is encouraging. Lectures are fast paced and full of truckloads of information. We have just enough time to catch up before getting the next dose of anatomy.

Cadaver dissection lab is incredibly challenging and wonderfully eye-opening. I won't go into the graphic details, but I have a new appreciation of physical fitness and the wonder of the human body. I will also think twice the next time I crave a large pepperoni pizza.

T-Minus 10 hours and counting

2008-07-13T22:20:00.001-05:00

Flick on Jacques Cartier Park #11
Originally uploaded by colin_ca

At long last, the moment of truth has arrived. After seven months of waiting, I finally start grad school tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock in the morning and I'll be diving right into shoulder anatomy and osteology, followed by some hands on cadaver dissection. Yum! (Note to self: eat breakfast tomorrow.)

Thank you to everyone that has supported me in getting to this point. I promise to leave frequent updates here. I hope you like reading about therapeutic modalities and theories of rehabilitation!

In other news: my quest for the Never-Ending Tank of Gas has fallen short of my goal by quite a bit. I'll have to fill it up the next time I drive it. So...I'm going to re-start the quest after my next tank of gas because I think I can give it a better go this time around. I haven't tapped out yet, but it's not far around the bend.

Responsibility.

2008-07-12T00:04:00.001-05:00

Responsibility.
Originally uploaded by nosha

Can never get enough of it, can we?

Time to collect myself and start my run towards the future.

Going faster than I'd like

2008-06-27T16:05:00.001-05:00

Graduation*Bubbles
Originally uploaded by smcgee

That applies to both my time of leisure and my tank of gas. If you recall, I'm trying to see how long a tank of gas will last me this summer. Two long vacations and a new commuting habit in a couple weeks will keep me out of the driver's seat, but this week (the short respite between vacations) has seen me drive much farther than I'd hoped. That full tank of gas on Monday is down to 1/3 of a tank today. Thankfully we leave tomorrow and I can give my car a break again.

Oh, by the way, we're back from China. It was incredibly rad.

Tonight we go to a wedding of two very beautiful people. They will have very beautiful children. The weather outside will be hot and humid, full of potential storm energy waiting to be let loose. The weather inside will be blissfully air conditioned.

Tomorrow we begin the business of leisure by a small lake with a beautiful boat and a home full of wonderful people. I will be sad to leave it when the time comes, but such is this business of leisure; it is never permanent. After the leisure comes academia again and I must gird my loins in preparation for it. And by "gird my loins," I mean "play some bocce ball."

Back to life, back to reality

2008-06-22T21:59:00.001-05:00

Birds Eye View
Originally uploaded by karenmeyere

And now, dear friends, we must shake each other's hand and kiss each other's cheek as we go our separate ways. Twelve days is a short time to become friends but that's just what happened.

The Shanghai Pudong International Airport is a bustling place with airplanes flying this way and that to all points on the globe. West to Europe, east to North America. Lufthansa flights to Frankfurt, Air Canada flights to Toronto, Virgin Atlantic flights to London, Qantas flights to Sydney. The travel melting pot.

We traveled to eight different cities, ranging in size from a "small town" of 100,000 people to the largest municipality in China at over 32 million people. Some were the cradles of Chinese civilization at over 2000 years old, some were new relocations of flooded towns, every building in sight less than ten years old.

China is progress, construction, renovation, filth, pollution, pristine beauty, confusion, order, sensory overload. Twelve days is only enough time to be in awe at everything and not enough time to digest any of it. That will take time. I guess that's what the long flight home is for.

Thus begins the Summer of Adventure

2008-06-10T21:56:00.001-05:00

S'mores!
Originally uploaded by Pearcinator

Tomorrow morning, so early as to beat the dawn by a good hour, we will embark on our Next Big Adventure. Anna and I will fly to Chicago (no big deal), hang out in the concourse at O'Hare for a few hours, then depart for Beijing (a much bigger deal). Approximately 13.5 hours later, we will arrive in the Middle Kingdom, thoroughly exhausted and wondering when exactly we are.

(For those of you keeping score at home, we will depart Chicago around 1:00 PM CST on June 11, and arrive about 3:00 PM Beijing Standard Time on June 12.)

Bike update: I'm not as good at repairs as I thought I was. That flat tire required two patches. Plus it turns out I was taking off parts that didn't need taking off, and putting them back on wrong. So...back to the shop it goes for some professional work.

Lastly, I filled up my gas tank today. Hopefully it will be the last stop at the pump for months.

I'll try to post as much as I can from China. Our hotels are supposed to have internet access but who knows how good that will be?

Let's get together when we're back and we'll all swap stories. It'll be neat!

And the radio man laughs because...

2008-06-05T16:55:00.001-05:00

small boy with paper
Originally uploaded by gorbot.

There's still another day, but today seemed like the end. Lots of goodbyes and hugs and cake and pizza and cards because lots of people think tomorrow is a good day to take as vacation.

I'll miss this more than I expected, I think.

In an earlier post, I talked about the Lord's Prayer and which version to use in this modern age. In nearly every church I've attended, it was "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," which really doesn't apply to us very well. How often have you trespassed or had to forgive someone who trespassed on your property? Probably not too often. The guest speaker at the church we attended last Sunday hypothesized that that version started to absolve the wealthy landowners that dealt harshly with peasants who poached their deer or something like that. Makes sense, I suppose.

And while "forgive us our sins" is technically valid, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors" carries a lot more weight in a slumping economy. If you're an American, chances are you carry some debt around with you like criminal record. How wonderful would it be if your credit card company or school loan company or bank sent you a letter to say, "We have canceled your debt to us just because. Maybe you should do the same to anyone who owes you something. Love, The Financial Institution."

Would this cause an economic collapse? Maybe. Maybe not. Would it generate good karma? Quite possibly. Would it be in line with Jesus' teachings? Yep. (Matthew 6:12. Look it up.)

Whaddya think?

She looked just like a royal queen.

2008-06-02T20:52:00.002-05:00

Canoe-rgy
Originally uploaded by sopheava

Oh, the injustice of it all! The scrumptious five day weekend draws to a close and now I have to spend four unproductive days at my semi-cubicle and try to stay interested. It's been a great place to work for the last six years but it is very much time to move on. But I've told you this already. I apologize for repeating myself.

I discovered some certificates in a drawer in my desk entitling me to a few bonus days of vacation, the "use it or lose it" kind. Suddenly the two-day weekend morphed into five. What a fiver it's been too.

Thursday: Sleeping in a bit, some coffee and snuggle time with the lappy, and then some chores. I put together some neato shelves in our garage, so our clutter now has a place to sit above the floor. Still cluttered, just elevated. We watched Balls of Fury that night, and brother, lemme tell ya, that movie could have been so much better. Not nearly enough humor OR ping pong for a comedy about ping pong. Eh, I still laughed. (Thank you, Patton Oswalt.)

Friday: Anna took the day off as well, so we made the most of it by shunning the oil industry in our own little way. We biked down to the Highland Grill to finish off the last of a gift certificate. (It was delicious.) The ride back was much slower and more contemplative, enjoying the scenery and trying to avoid going over any bumps or straining ourselves in any way. Biking with a gut full of heavy breakfast is recommended by only 1 out of 10 doctors, so it can't be that great. Still, a lovely day for a ride. (9.6 more miles, thank you very much, for a running total of 78.6 miles for the summer.)

Since we won't see our youth group girls much this summer, we decided to splurge our bake sale earnings and take them out for pizza and a movie. Pizza Luce didn't disappoint, and then it was off to see Prince Caspian. (Sidebar: It should be noted that the Chronicles of Narnia are my favorite childhood books and I hold them very near and dear to my heart, and any critiques of mine of the movies are going to be VERY HARSH.) It was very good, but Mr. Adamson, please don't add unnecessary (and kinda creepy) love interests between major characters that aren't supposed to be there. No one needs to see Prince Caspian (casted to look like he is in his mid-20s) making goo-goo eyes at Susan (who is supposed to be, what, 16?). I mean, really. People go to jail for that, Caspian. JAIL.

Saturday: Yard work! Yard work! Yard work! Who put in plastic garden edging and mowed the lawn and such? This guy. We headed down to my parents' house that evening for a birthday dinner and had great seats for a phenomenal storm system that rolled through the metro area. Thankfully we escaped with nary a sprinkle, though some of our friends didn't fare so well.

Sunday: To church with you! We visited a different church on the invitation of some good friends to hear a local morning show DJ give the sermon. Anna and Kate are fans of the station so it was a treat to hear him speak. I was impressed by his message too. Speaking about hearing and obeying the words of Jesus, and how that differs from big public shows of "religiosity." A post-service discussion about which version of the Lord's Prayer to recite probably hit me the hardest though. He mentioned that in today's economy, forgiving our debtors as they forgive our debts is a very relevant thing and should be encouraged more. After all, it was part of the Hebrew culture. (I may need to talk more about this later. You're getting bored. I can tell.)

I also changed my first flat bike tire. It felt liberating.

Monday: Too much sloth, not enough industry. I assembled another shelving unit, but it was just OK. Not great. OK. I think I'm pulling the usual Sunday night phenomenon of dreading the next workday and pulling myself down because of it. We're sitting in a lovely local coffee shop, listening to a jazz quartet interpret the standards ("Janine" when we walked in, "My Funny Valentine" now that it's closer to closing time). It's been a marvelous time off. I can certainly handle this last short span of employment, right? Right. Besides, we're gonna be busy. Gotta pack, you know.

Protons vs Electrons

2008-05-28T23:00:00.001-05:00

We keep on waiting
Originally uploaded by K .

Been forever since the last comparison list. Let's begin.

Positively charged:
- Countdowns and finalities
- Public transportation
- Bicycles
- Traveling to very foreign lands

Negatively charged:
- Short-Timer's Syndrome. It's got me bad.
- Waiting out your current situation for the next thing to start.
- Worrying that no matter how well you prepare, you're gonna forget something.
- Forgetting something.

More mileage put on the bike, under-inflated tires, blindingly brilliant taillight and all.

Ride #1: A test ride to school and back leads me to conclude that I will be very sweaty when I get home. The ride is mostly downhill going to school and very much uphill going back. Good news: it takes me 20 minutes to get there. Bad news: it takes me 40 minutes to get back. Seeing as the bus ride will take about 40 minutes average, my bike will contribute toward my quest to not fill up my gas tank at all this summer. Total distance: 9.9 miles.

Ride #2: I skipped the normal commute again and rode my bike to work WHILE WEARING MY NEW BIKE SHORTS. Let me tell you, brothers and sisters, my ass has never been happier. I should have started doing this years ago. Total distance: 15.6 miles. New total for the year: 69 miles. Boo yah.

One final note: It is my opinion that Gladiator gets worse every time I see it and High Fidelity gets better every time I see it. Discuss.

You're not on his side, you're not on her side.

2008-05-25T22:25:00.002-05:00

Originally uploaded by thinklab

We returned from a successful camping trip to Frontenac State Park. The same number of campers came out as went in, no bones were broken, and no tents leaked during the night-time thunderstorm. A sew-on patch was purchased and many pictures were taken, so I guess that counts for one in the "win" column.

I've done a fair amount of camping in my day but most of it has been concentrated in northern Minnesota, from the Boundary Waters to the North Shore. I'm used to the endless pine forests and lapping of the water against the rocky shores and canoe hulls. Frontenac does not have those things, but it's no fault of its own. Just a different flavor that can't be compared to its northern counterparts. Frontenac is a small state park, smaller than I expected it to be. The cart-in sites where we stayed were close together and not completely obscured from each other. I'm sure the amorous couple in the next site grew tired of our constant laughing and chatter. (On the plus side, the rangers had cleared out some kind of invasive tree species in the area behind our site, leaving more firewood than we could have ever used in a weekend. They could have told us that before we got there and spent $8 on two bundles of pre-cut firewood, though.) The ample toilet paper in the outhouse was another plus.

Frontenac boasts plentiful hiking trails for a park its size and we explored nearly all of them. Trails ranged from some grassy strolls with lookout points that beheld the lovely river valley below, to some steep and narrow paths that led to the water's edge at the banks of Lake Pepin. Most of the trails were in good condition, if a little too cozy if you encountered a hiker going in the opposite direction. Some of the wooden steps could have been tended to, though. The flora was a luminescent shade of green not often seen outside of a viewing of a Lord of the Rings installment. All in all, the trails were my favorite part of the park.

Overall, I'd give Frontenac a "worth staying at once" rating. The river valley is beautiful and the trails are wonderful, but the park is small and the sites are a little too close for comfort. I can't see myself going back in the future. It's nice for what it is, but it's not my cup of tea.

A-camping we will go, and a mileage update.

2008-05-23T16:40:00.002-05:00

Sarah loves her "abwah"
Originally uploaded by rouxhauser

Tonight we leave for a weekend getaway to Frontenac State Park, a place I have not visited since my potty-training days. I hope it hasn't changed much in those three years.

(Kidding. It's been closer to five.)

I'm excited to try a little bird watching, a little hiking with the new trekking poles, and some good old-fashioned s'more-eating. Good times with good friends will abound.

I've done a bit more biking this season and look to continue the trend indefinitely. I hope to keep track of my mileage too. It will be fun to see how much distance I put on the bike and maybe figure out how much gas I will have saved.

The first ride of spring was on April 6. Total distance: 7 miles.

Ride 2: 1.8 miles (ride aborted due to a busted chain)

Ride 3: 3.2 miles with Anna, giving her bike its first workout of the year and my bike its first rehab workout after a new chain and rear sprocket thingy.

Ride 4: 4.8 miles and the realization that I was growing tired of the same route over and over again. Railroad yards and trucks lose their luster after a while.

Ride 5: 6.9 beautiful miles, mostly along the Mississippi in the evening. More realizations that my ass was not getting less sore with each ride.

Ride 6: 4.2 miles of relaxing pedaling, including a picnic dinner at a nearby park. Also the most awkward Subway dining experience I have ever experienced.

Ride 7: The biggest one so far; a ride to and from work, for a grand total of 15.6 miles. My ass hurt (no surprise) and my triceps felt like they were going to seize up. Does that mean I lean forward too much? The heavy backpack didn't help, I'm sure.

Grand mileage total so far: 43.5 miles and counting.

We'll be traveling most of June and early July. Add to that the fact that I'll be biking/busing to school every day this summer, and I'm going to see how long I can go between stops at the gas station in my car. I'll document the last fill-up before we head to the Middle Kingdom and start the count from that date. Any bets as to how long I can go? I'm guessing over two months.

You're At Your Best With That Ache In Your Chest

2008-05-16T08:03:00.001-05:00

Originally uploaded by yearofthewhitedog

Three weeks and counting. I would be lying if I said I didn't have Short-Timer's Syndrome at the office. I'm trying to remain productive but that's like telling the six-year-old to patiently eat his Christmas dinner while the presents sit under the tree, taunting him.

Yesterday I surprised myself by winning a couple rounds of mini golf with my teammates. I'm not a regular golfer, and even when I have played, my short game has been atrocious. But put me on a narrow swath of Astroturf with a windmill/dinosaur/puddle/maniacal clown in my path and suddenly I turn into Arnold Palmer. It was a beautiful thing.

The sunburn on my scalp was a small price to pay for such glory.

According to the IRS' website, our economic stimulus refund should arrive in the bank account today. That means we'll hopefully be taking a trip to our friendly neighborhood Apple Store this weekend to pick up a shiny new MacBook! The trusty old eMac upon which I am currently typing will remain at home, largely relegated to the role of jukebox. It's had a good life, but it's struggling to keep up with the younger kids these days.

The tent will be set up in the backyard this weekend to air it out and re-check the seams in preparation for a Memorial Day weekend camping trip to Frontenac State Park with some friends. I'll also have to blow the dust off the Coleman three-burner stove that is older than I am and make sure it won't explode. Not that I'm worried. That Coleman stove has been on countless camping trips and never failed. Probably the most trustworthy piece of equipment I have. Also the heaviest.

What are your summer plans?

Where does it always hit you?

2008-05-05T22:03:00.003-05:00

cincinnati airport. 2006.
Originally uploaded by eyetwist

It's that one Christmas recording that I've listened to a thousand times and will listen to thousands more, but it always opens up a new crack in the outer me and dives right into the hidden gooey parts that I like to keep covered, thank you very much.

It always hurts so wonderfully but I never want it to stop. Does that ever happen to you?

The recording contains my favorite song of all time. It is Ave Maria by Franz Biebl. It's like getting a five-and-a-half minute glance into Heaven. The song hits me square in the chest and squeezes my heart until it wants to pop. It becomes hard to breathe. It's a warm and soft feeling and it makes me want to sleep and stay awake for hours at the same time. The come-down after the song is done is tragic and delicious and makes me want to listen again and again. Some nights have been passed this way. Herr Biebl, I thank you for giving us this piece of music. It is like food to me.

What hits you like this? Where does it hit you and how does it feel? I'd like to know.

My time is yours.

2008-04-30T20:51:00.001-05:00

...
Originally uploaded by Gabriel M.A.

I have just over a month left at my job before I take a large step into parts unknown. I've worked here for six years and a day. The company has sent me to six different countries to conduct its business, and most of the time I felt like I was just following orders without really knowing what I was doing. It was never something I was passionate about (I mean, who can really be passionate about being a small cog in a very large machine?), but it was mildly interesting and the settings were often new and intriguing. Since I've been at this company, it's been a good place to be until something better came along.

When I decided what that "something better" was, I could not wait to leave. Not that my job suddenly became unbearable, but that I finally had a concrete goal that I was excited about and that feeling was new and intoxicating. I think for many aspects of my life I have not had clear cut goals in mind with thought-out plans to achieve them. It's been more of a trial-and-error approach. Most of the time it worked, but it hasn't felt this exciting before.

So...just about a month left. Then we're off to experience the Middle Kingdom firsthand, then we're back to experience The Great Lakes State firsthand, then I'm off to experience grad school firsthand. After a long while, I'll get to experience people calling me "Doctor" firsthand.

The sanctity of our insides.

2008-04-15T22:29:00.001-05:00

The man who had an idea at the beach
Originally uploaded by alonsodr

The first six weeks will be spent taking apart the remains of a person. I've poked and prodded and inspected the work of others' disassembling, but I've never done the job myself. I'm not one to get squeamish at the sight of disclosed innards, but I'm beginning to think that this task, this breaking down into baser parts, will be more challenging than I anticipate. Not necessarily from a scholarly perspective, though I don't doubt that that will test me completely. I mean from a more spiritual angle. I mean, we're going to be dissecting a former person. This person has given themselves for us to study and learn how wonderfully and amazingly we are put together, but also to learn how their own body worked, how it failed, maybe how it died. We may learn a lot more about this person than just the origins and insertions of their musculature.

If you cut deep enough into a person, do you find their soul? Maybe the place their soul used to dwell before they passed on? The soul cavity?

I have seven and a half weeks left before I leave my workplace. It will be bittersweet. I've made some wonderful friends and had life-changing experiences through this employer but it's time to move on. I'm surprised that I'm feeling this nostalgic already; I was half-expecting to skip out the door on that last day with nary a backwards glance. Here's hoping I won't end up like Lot's wife.

six twenty nine

2008-04-09T22:46:00.001-05:00

six twenty nine
Originally uploaded by antimethod (cole rise)

Tomorrow I will be a chaperone for a group of eighth grade girls on a field trip to a local women's college. I'm going to fit in perfectly.

Flickr started allowing the posting of short videos (up to 90 seconds long) and it's created quite an uproar. Which camp do you belong to, because it seems that, like America's political system, there are only two possible options: you are either for the videos (with a casually enthusiastic "neato!") or vehemently against them (with a rage on par with the fury of thousand scorned female suns). I guess I'm of the mildly enthusiastic pro camp. Now I just have to find something interesting to film in a 16-second clip, for that is all my rusty but trusty Sony Cybershot will allow.

Iota has begun the crafting of two new songs, and the potential for both is nigh limitless. One is a brand new ditty courtesy of Mark that is in 9/8 time (wha?) and tentatively named "My Time Is Yours," thanks to a liberal application of sound clips from THX 1138. The second piece is one of the first Iota ever crafted, only to have it sit on a shelf unwanted for years because we couldn't get past the first damn verse, which seemed to drone on endlessly like a bad Phish jam. Thankfully this all changed when a new bombastic chorus was added. The working title is "Young Bikers In Love (or, The Cause Of and Solution To Your Coldplay Problems)".

Now I just need to write some lyrics. Or someone does.

Starting new habits, revisiting old ones.

2008-04-06T18:32:00.001-05:00

go danielson, learn balance
Originally uploaded by chromatophobe

When I jump into school full-time, I plan taking the bus or riding my bike. The bus would pick me up a block from my house and drop me off a block from my classes. The bike ride would about five miles one way. Certainly a climbable mountain, though I need to train for it. So I started today, on the first rainy day of spring. I finished over an hour ago and I'm still cold and I'm pretty sure my soul is wringing wet.

Regardless, I completed a seven-mile loop in about forty minutes. Considering that I probably gained several pounds in saturated clothes, that's not a bad start.

Then I decided to improve my aerodynamics for future rides and shaved my head again, something I haven't done in a while. I know I get some weird looks because of it, and my family gets no end of amusement at my expense, but I like how it feels.

Nine weeks left at my employer, then a month of travels and adventures, then a head-first dive into the next step. Wanna come along?

i am the passenger

2008-03-29T14:45:00.001-05:00

i am the passenger
Originally uploaded by kinotrope

Today we conquered a clogged sink by ourselves. No frantic calls to a plumber, no $300 bill to pay after 25 minutes of work, no feelings of inadequacy because my male ability to “plumb” (Is that what plumbers do? Plumb?) was found wanting.

No sir. Today, we conquered. One bottle of drain cleaner and clog buster, fifteen minutes of patience, one pair of rubber gloves, two pairs of hands and one plunger were all it took to beat that drain-stopping nastiness into submission and down the drain. And to top it off, I fixed a leak around the garbage disposal.

I should have my testosterone checked RIGHT NOW because I’m betting it will never be this high again.

I name you good.

2008-03-26T22:54:00.001-05:00

Very quiet after the service
Originally uploaded by herecomesanothersongaboutmexico

Let's start with the positives. What do you like about yourself? The topic is open for discussion. No feature or trait or tendency is out of bounds. I'll start.

I like my hands. My left hand is scarred from broken bones and surgeries. My hands are strong and big. They play the guitar rather well. I've played the guitar for over 15 years now, and I've never comprehended how my non-dominant left hand can hardly pick up a pen to write my name in illegible scribbles but can dance over a fretboard and shape music in an act that is as natural to me now as breathing.

Your turn.

The Game of Life revisited.

2008-03-23T16:48:00.001-05:00

sodaplosion
Originally uploaded by thinklab

Quick post from the road. I'm going to try to maintain this thing more frequently and give it some purpose again.

We decided to take a three day weekend and spend Easter with Anna's parents. We foolishly packed spring attire because, hey, it's Easter! That worked out well until two hours into our drive when we caught up with the massive snow storm that had ravaged southern Minnesota and was now moving onto Wisconsin. Driving conditions became hazardous, then treacherous, then downright movie-climax tense. We opted to cut the drive in half and stopped in Janesville, WI, for the night. Blowing snow + slippery roads + tired drivers = stupid driving conditions.

We made it safely in the end and it's been a marvelous time, albeit too short. Win and I will return home tomorrow while Anna spends a few days in Chicago with her mom. I will sum up this not-yet-finished weekend by saying that the card game version of The Game of Life is much more interesting than the board game version, except you don't get a station wagon and little stick spouses and children. And there are no fake mountains to drive through. And no fake buildings. And no fake money. And no spinny wheel. Apart from those things, the card game rules.

See you soon.

It needs some work, that's all.

2008-02-12T21:51:00.001-06:00

Hobo Gloves
Originally uploaded by herecomesanothersongaboutmexico

It's not indicative of anything beyond this immediacy, and it's not a harbinger of things to come. It's just a thing, plain and simple. Be patient with it and work it out and you'll see it will come to naught. Nothing malignant, at least.

Just put your comfy shoes on, cue up some familiar music that you can rest in, and let's hit the road.

I name you good, I name you bad.

2008-01-07T22:55:00.001-06:00

Thank God my fly is zipped.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

For you armchair theologians keeping score at home, we've worked our way into the season of Epiphany in the church calendar. Does it signify when the (not necessarily three) wise men came to pay homage to Jesus? Maybe. Or perhaps it was another holiday dreamed up by the Church as an official reason to try to finish all the fruitcake that had accumulated and not even begun to decompose yet. That, and the lutefisk. Damnable abomination, that poor former fish.

The new year has arrived and I couldn't be happier. Will I resolve to do anything differently? Well...that depends on how you define resolution. A friend recently put it this way: to look clearly at yourself and truthfully name the good and bad things is the crux of an epiphany. Without that full self-disclosure, everything will be half-truths and denials.

I have named some very bad and some very good things about myself. The past year was one of great upheaval. I plan on two thousand eight being a year of change and progress and growth. Oh, so much growth. It is the start of a thing intended to be permanent, not something given up after six weeks like so many gym memberships. We'll call this the first in a series of talks. It's good to be with you again.

Hopeful anticipation

2007-12-05T15:21:00.001-06:00

sister
Originally uploaded by romanlily.

Monday had triple-checked that all the ts were crossed and the is were dotted. The sacrifices had been placed smoldering on the altars to numerous deities. His forehead had a dent from all the prostrating he did to secure the crucial letters from his sponsors. He could do nothing more but wait. Soon, he hoped, the next chapter of his career would be defined and he couldn't be more excited.

Then he thought that having a personal helicopter would be pretty exciting too. Knowing the next chapter of your life and having a personal helicopter couldn't be more exciting.

A warning to buyers of Sentry Pro XFC

2007-11-07T06:47:00.001-06:00

Win does his best Marty Feldman.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

Be ye warned: it made our dog go crazy last night.

This stuff is a squeeze-on flea and tick pesticide for dogs. My wife bought some and tried it on Win last night. About an hour and a half after applying it, Win seemed to experience the canine equivalent of a bad acid trip. He freaked out. He vomited three times. He pooped and peed in the house. He walked sideways and foamed at the mouth. He might have even seen Jesus. We're not sure yet.

Anna had to bathe him with dish soap twice and then apply vitamin E to his skin where the pesticide was applied. He seems to be ok today, but there were moments last night when we weren't sure if Win would ever be the same. It was creepy, man. Creepy.

The value of knowing thyself.

2007-10-19T23:35:00.001-05:00

The Library
Originally uploaded by edscoble.

"Purpose yourself for better things. Let your movements have meaning and direction. Give yourself intention and a goal, then act so that you will move toward it."
These were all good things to know, but Monday thought they were vague and best-seller-ish. The teacher continued:
"If you are without direction, and do not seek it, you will surely flounder and wreck."
That rang more true with Monday, but uncomfortably. He knew what it was to wreck, and he knew what it was to meander aimlessly, though he had never connected the two in his mind.
"Though you have erred, it is possible to correct yourself. It requires discipline and sweat and humility and grace. It requires study of oneself."
Monday was squirming now, barely able to sit still in his chair. The teacher seemed to be gently looking straight through him, through all of his outer layers of self-protection. Nothing seemed hidden from this teacher, though Monday hadn't confessed a thing. He felt like hiding, or crying, or running away. The teacher, though, only looked at him compassionately. There was no anger there, only love, acceptance, and a hint of sadness. Monday would have preferred anger.

This was not the first time Monday and the teacher met, nor would it be the last, but it had been months since their last visit together. The teacher had left an open invitation for Monday to stop by anytime, but Monday was always too busy with work or play. After the last fiasco with the blown assignment, he knew that he needed to see the teacher, and quickly. He didn’t know what to say to him, but he also was confident that the teacher would already know. It still helped to talk it through. Now the teacher was saying things about discipline and purpose and it was simultaneously annoying and comforting to Monday. He loathed clichés but they also were full of truth. That truth was like a sunrise to him, and the new day was full of promise and year’s worth of work.

The teacher began again at an easy but steady pace: “You have busied yourself and left your mark in many places, but you have not always walked with a clear direction or a goal of any kind. While that personal path of least resistance has seemingly bounced you from this to that, it has secretly led you to this point. All paths of this kind lead here, though most do not know it until it is too late. This whole ordeal may have been avoided if you would have moved with a purpose. If you knew yourself. If you were disciplined.
“You know what needs to be done. Keep your guard up always, and be quick to call for help. You know my number and you know I’m always willing to answer the phone. Don’t be macho and try to conquer your problems alone. That’s how people get hurt. (And not just you, chucko.)
“But the key, Monday, is to know yourself. Know who you are, what your strengths are, and more importantly, what your weaknesses are. We all have them; it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It is, however, something to be conscious of. Knowing your weaknesses will help you avoid situations that will exploit them.”
Monday got up to leave after shaking the teacher’s hand and rinsing out his coffee mug. His knees were a little shaky but his head felt clearer. His hand was on the doorknob when the teacher spoke one last time.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Be sure to say you’re sorry, and be sure to mean it every time.”

You can't go on this way.

2007-10-09T19:05:00.001-05:00

You can't go on this way.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

"What were you thinking?"

"..."

"Do you realize how lucky you were?"

"Of course I do now."

Sweet mother of mercy, it's a miracle!

2007-09-21T21:47:00.001-05:00

ticket both with chem damage
Originally uploaded by J.F MPLS.

Wonders will never cease. My results came back from my calculus class. I opened the envelope, heart hovering somewhere between my throat and my stomach (which, in hindsight, is good), hoping for a solid C because, hey, Cs get degrees, man. (They do not, however, get you into grad school, but beggars can't be choosers.)

I slowly tore the envelope and removed the three scores: my second midterm, my last lesson, and my final exam, all taken and handed in within the span of three days.

Midterm #2: 91/100. WTF? Was that right? Hot dang. Let's keep rolling.

Lesson #10: 24/27. OK, that's a solid B+. I can take that with gratitude.

Final exam: 165/200. Now we're falling back to reality. My heart starts drifting toward stomach again. But hark! What's this? My final grade?

It's an A-! Wait, that could be a D-...no, it's an A-! I got an A- in calculus!

The note from the professor said that my point total actually added up to a B+, but he must have recently been let off with a warning from a police officer or had a lottery ticket pay off or been a little drunk because he rounded it up to an A-! Faceless math professor, I could kiss you. I won't, however, because then you might change your mind and drop my grade again. Please accept my humble thanks.

With that hurdle firmly cleared, it's time to look to the GRE, which I will take in one week. Once that's done, it's time to send in my applications. Gracious, it's hard to imagine that this point has arrived. I almost forgot why I was taking all these classes.

Join me now in my calculus dance.

But I ordered the Sausage McMuffin with Egg!

2007-08-21T22:14:00.001-05:00

Even the Sunflowers Feel the Gloom
Originally uploaded by smcgee.

It is frightfully easy to revert to childhood behaviors. We can get all a-flutter about a new something-or-other, wanting to spend every possible moment with it and show it off proudly to all our friends. A month later, it lays forgotten, or broken, or despised in some dark corner of a back closet. The magic left it when we realized it would take effort to make the thing go or light up or do a trick or give us that shot of "Awesome!" again.

The same thing can happen with a dog. At first you can be the proudest pseudo-parent in the world, oo-ing and ah-ing over every wag of a tail and acknowledgment of a command. Some time later you discover that the dog enjoys leaving little treasures for you to discover on the living room carpet and doesn't really give a rip if you call its name fifty times in a row. It's not gonna turn its head until at least a hundred.

In summary, Win is giving us some trials as dog-owners. You could say he's kind of housebroken (is that like being kind of pregnant?). We're trying the crate-training tactic to see if it yields better results.

Day 1: Lots of whining, clawing at the door, barking, and general displeasure at being in the kennel. Occasional periods of quiet acceptance interrupted by continued noise-making and general flim-flammery. Anna has been working hard to get him used to the kennel, and I'd say she's done a hell of a job for one day. I really REALLY hope it gets better after this.

But as truly maddening as that seems to me, it doesn't look so bad when I pop my head up and look around me. A good friend of mine lost a coworker in the collapse of the 35W bridge. An entire region of my state is experiencing some of the worst flash flooding in recorded history, people's homes, livelihoods, and even loved ones being swept away by the dirty brown torrent. Another good friend of mine is missing a dear friend of her own, gone without a trace for a few weeks now.

Good lord, these problems require every ounce of a person's being to deal with, while my unhappy yip-dog requires but a few minutes of patience until it gives up the fight. How can I complain when I am blessed the way I am and have only the everyday inconveniences to remind myself that, hey, I got it pretty good?

For those of you who have been impacted by the wildness of Mother Nature, who have been hit by the frailty and finiteness of the creation of humankind, and who have been knocked asunder by the randomness of such tragic events, I pray for you and for your loved ones. For those of you who are like me and get annoyed when McDonald's gets your order wrong or you had to sit in traffic for an extra ten minutes or The Gap didn't have that shirt in your size, or hell, your dog keeps shitting on your carpet and you don't know what to do about it, take a deep breath, say thank you and shut up.

2007-07-11T07:57:00.001-05:00

bird in flight
Originally uploaded by TedSher.

My parents will celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary this weekend. I think that is monumentally fantastic. To celebrate, they have come up with an equally fantastic idea: my entire family will trek to the North Shore of Lake Superior for the weekend. True, I may have to bring some homework along, but dammit, I'm gonna be Up North. Nothing could be wrong with that.

Why can't it be Friday today?

Academic update: my final in microbiology is Thursday. I feel pretty ok about this one. Barring a colossal meltdown on the final, I should walk away with an A, and a new appreciation for microbes.

Win, this is everybody. Everybody, Win.

2007-06-30T17:57:00.001-05:00

Win, this is everybody. Everybody, Win.
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

Not that anyone is keeping score anymore, but we are now a trio. Win the shih tzu joined us today. He is a marvelous little guy with a calm and polite demeanor. He is a welcome addition to our little clan.

There is an end to my mayhem in sight. I'll finish my summer term at the end of July and, God willing, I'll have my first grad school application turned in by the end of August.

Also, calculus by correspondence course SUCKS.

How are things at your end of things? We should go on a road trip sometime.

I'm a lover, not a fighter.

2007-06-03T18:18:00.001-05:00

Patsy in Montana
Originally uploaded by motorcoatdave.

It's not fun to look out your window and see two cop cars parked across the street. It's also not fun to hear why they were there. Seems one of my neighbors was assaulted by a woman weilding a shotgun, which discharged when she swung it at him.

This isn't cool at all. I liked it better when my street was quiet and unassuming. On the plus side, I did get to meet more of our neighbors when we all congregated outside to discuss the goings-on.

My summer term is in full swing. Two classes at another community college (with a surprisingly lovely campus) and one correspondence course (calculus) through the Univ. of Minnesota. I am worried that this may have been a poor choice. The calc doesn't exactly come easily to me. Thankfully I have a few people willing and able to help me out of a few tight spots. Like every other problem.

The light is nearly visible at the end of this long tunnel. Nearly.

Two wins and a garden growing

2007-05-10T22:57:00.001-05:00

Watch Your Back
Originally uploaded by massdistraction.

I couldn't be more proud of my darling little Gnarlies. Two games into the season and we are undefeated with an impressive 25 runs scored, 2 allowed. Since there are no playoffs to determine the division champion, our record is the key, but the tie-breaker will be the number of runs scored. Great! Justification for kicking (or being kicked) while they're (we're) down!

Now if only I could get free on a Tuesday night and actually make it to the game...it'd be so much more fun than sitting in front of my shrine to the kickball gods, offering them sacrifices of creamed corn and pumpkin mix. (What, do you think I actually buy that crap for myself?)

Also!

The Backyard Garden Co-Op Project 2007 has been started. Steve, Lee, Andrew and I dug up the dormant garden space by the garage and planted some pole beans (complete with homemade bean poles crafted from the finest PVC pipe and twine), some peppers, cilantro, and chives. Mesclun lettuce and tomato plants will arrive shortly. Maybe even some strawberries. Who knows?

Rest assured that there will be updates as the season progress (both kickball- and produce-related). Stay tuned.

Melting icemen and unexpected second chances

2007-05-01T21:19:00.001-05:00

back of the bus y'all...
Originally uploaded by puja.

Spring Kickball 2007, Week 1 recap:

St. Paul's Gnarly Balls 24, Iceman's All-Stars 1.

Oh how I wish I could have been witness to the wonderfulness. How I wish I didn't have to sit through chemistry class. How I wanted to bark and yell at my players as I have never barked and yelled before, but the fates would not have it. It was for the best.

You see, I forgot to do my chemistry homework that was due on Sunday night. Just plain forgot. I must have thought the due date was, well, later. I talked to the prof after class and he agreed without hesitation to extend my deadline to tonight, giving me just what I needed to get that done and keep my chances of an A alive.

Thank you, Prof. Chemistry. Thank you. If it weren't socially awkward, I would hug you. Perhaps a firm handshake will do.

Back to stretching, you Gnarlies. I don't want no pulled hammies next week. Get it right, get it tight!

PS: Thanks, Jer, for blowing our shutout.

Just kidding. Sorta.

What's the point?

2007-04-25T17:57:00.001-05:00

kickball carthum
Originally uploaded by thinklab.

What's the point of this anymore? I haven't written regularly since ought-six and haven't had anything interesting to say since long before that. What do you think?

Why am I asking you? You're not reading this.

In related news, my spring semester is nearly done (fingers crossed for straight As) and the summer term is cocked, locked, and ready to rock. This will (hopefully) be my last stretch of insanity before the grad school applications are sent.

The long wait for Spring 2007 Kickball is nearly over! St. Paul's Gnarly Balls will once again attempt to add to our already-crowded trophy case. Do I sense a third division title waiting in the wings?

(Sigh) This blog has become a boring and tired recap of my not-so-recent comings and goings. That makes it a dumb blog. Perhaps it's time for a change.

Anniversary Weekend the Second!

2007-03-24T20:05:00.001-05:00

Tobacco Caye
Originally uploaded by Typos in the Key of E.

Day Two: Hiking! Photography! Grand Marais!

Oh, the weather we've had! Oh, the adventures on dangerous hiking trails! Oh, the craft stores!

We headed north on the (in)famous Highway 61. First stop: Temperance River State Park for a quick hike on some trails still covered in snow and ice. Ruling in favor of non-broken bones and fewer trips to the emergency room, we kept driving.

Next stop: Grand Marais. We skipped a few rocks, perused the Lake Superior Trading Post, visited a couple crafty-type stores, a wee little book shoppe, the beach again, and the most crowded "department" store I have ever seen. It was the local Ben Franklin that had to violate every fire code law in the book. It was precious. The free pineapplish cake was nice.

A round of disc golf on the lodge's "course," some boardgames and a pizza, and here we are. Finishing off the evening with a viewing of The Wedding Planner by the fireplace. Until tomorrow...

Anniversary Weekend the Second!

2007-03-23T18:58:00.001-05:00

.
Originally uploaded by sweet distin.

Day One: Half-price shoes and double-price hotel rooms.

We started our second anniversary celebration weekend today. It has been mostly marvelous so far. We are staying at the same quaint lodge on Lake Superior where we stayed last year and not much has changed except the room rates. For some reason, the rate they are charging us this year is significantly higher than what we paid last year. True, we did use Anna's teacher-union discount a year ago, but still. We bit the bullet and paid the higher rate for a room with a king-sized bed, fireplace, and private deck overlooking the lake because it wasn't much more than the cheaper rooms (straw mat on the floor, one tiny window (iron bars included), and tally marks scratched on the walls from previous guests).

Despite that little setback, the day has been wonderful. Anna's parents left after spending most of the week in St. Paul with us. We crammed more fun things into four days than I've done in some months. Sub-recap:

Monday: Anna's parents arrived. We went to dinner at the Chatterbox Pub in Highland Park. The food was pretty good, the beer very good. I stayed afterwards to play Solarquest with friends until 1:00am. My domination of Uranus (let's hear the jokes now...get them out of your system) wasn't enough to claim victory.

Tuesday: The father-in-law and I spent some of the day tackling manly-type chores around the house. We fixed some molding in the bedroom that had fallen (with duct-tape, of course), replaced the hideous and buzzing flourescent light fixture in the kitchen with a pleasant, non-buzzing flourescent light fixture, and even retrieved the pepper mill that had fallen behind the stove. The day was capped off by dinner at Hoa Bien with my parents joining us from Northfield. I don't know exactly what was in my entree, but the vaguely ham-like substance was excellent.

Wednesday: We visited The Museum of Russian Art in Minneapolis. It's quite lovely. I recommend it. Be sure to hit the complimentary tea in the gift shop. It's in a renovated Spanish Mission-style church. Admission was free thanks to the Museum Adventure Pass deal through the Saint Paul Public Library system. If you live in the Twin Cities, you really need to check that out. That evening we went to a production of The Pajama Game by the Mixed Blood Theater. It was in Spanglish. No Adam Sandler sightings, though.

Thursday: A day of fun and education! Who knew? We spent the beautifully sunny day visiting Minnehaha Park in Minneapolis and the James J. Hill mansion in St. Paul. The main hall in the mansion was over twice as large as our house.

And that brings us back to today. We hit the road around noonish, making good time to Duluth. We stretched our legs around Canal Park, making the obligatory stops at The Duluth Pack Store (we got discount mittens!), a visit to the lakeshore, and a stop at a new outdoor gear store where I found a pair of Merrell shoes at half price. Boo yah. Who's the trendy outdoor-type now? This guy.

We've already enjoyed the hot tub and pool this evening, and are about to head for dinner at The Lemon Wolf. Perhaps the fireplace will be roaring when we get back. It's oh so cozy. Until tomorrow, then.

Take THAT, night classes!

2007-03-19T07:03:00.001-05:00

Headbutt
Originally uploaded by Wiedmaier.

It is spring break time. Hoo rah.

So far, I'm surviving, nay, thriving. Kickin' ass and takin' names. Bringing apples to the teachers and raising my hand to answer every question first, complete with the "Ooo! Ooo! Me! Please!"

One last step, though, before the reverie can begin in full. My final for the abnormal psychology class I took last fall through an unnamed Mormon institution of higher learning in Utah will take place tomorrow. Finally. I don't even really care anymore except to just get it over with. My post-class evaluation will be SCATHING.

But first, tonight, the partying will start. A grand game of Solarquest tonight. It will rock harder than many things have rocked, in a geeky, space real-estate kind of way.

John Frum vs Jesus

2007-02-28T21:05:00.001-06:00

MN State Fair
Originally uploaded by motorcoatdave.

This article caught my eye recently. It's about a remote Pacific island that celebrates the second coming of John Frum, a mythical figure that the islanders believe will return and bring them fortune and glory. It is believed by some that "John Frum" came from American soldiers introducing themselves as "John from America." It's an odd annual festival but sociologically fascinating.

There is one passage from the article that caught my attention:

A Christian youth worker told me how he thought the cult was childish. "It's like a baby playing games," he insisted. "Those people are holding on to a dream that will never come true," he said.

I claim to be a follower of Christ, but sometimes I wonder why, especially when I see stuff like that. Doesn't anyone else find that sentence incredibly ironic?

Prove to me that our faith in Jesus is any less ridiculous than an islander's faith in John Frum. How is our faith in a person who lived 2000 years ago and whose entire following is based on texts that were written decades after his ministry be any more legitimate than these islanders, some of whom may actually have seen an American soldier? What gives us the right to call their faith inferior to ours? How are we better than them?

Honestly. Sometimes Christians make me want to puke.

2007-02-05T06:51:00.001-06:00

table football
Originally uploaded by batintherain.

Now that the madness of spring semester and my new job has started, I will detail for you my schedule. Just so I don't forget it.

Monday: work from 9-6, go to Human Anatomy & Physiology 1 from 6:45-10:00.

Tuesday: work from 7:30 to 4:30, go to Chemistry 1 from 5:00 to 6:30. Teach guitar lesson from 8:00 to 8:30.

Wednesday: same as Monday

Thursday: Work 7:30 to 4:30, go to Chemistry 1 from 5:00 to 9:30.

Friday: work 9-6. No class!

Saturday: Do all of my homework.

Every other Sunday: College Algebra from 1:00 to 4:00.

Any remaining gap would be spent sleeping or re-introducing myself to my wife. Is this the price to pay for finally figuring out what I want to do with my life?

Because it sucks.

The language and the listener.

2007-01-20T15:50:00.000-06:00

Vantaa. Helsinki
Originally uploaded by Luke Harby.

The language can be off-putting to the average listener. The words aren't clear and the diction is jarring and the intended message is lost in the noise. This is not a flaw of the language, the speaker or the listener, but simply a result of the distance between where the listener hears and from where the language is spoken. Neither party is in the wrong.

If they persist, the speaker and the listener, the chasm that separates the two will reduce until it can be spanned and the communication can begin.

The listener will understand the story and want to be a part of it, add to it, or tell their own story, now that they know the language.

The mechanics of the language are not the important things to glean, really. They are important to telling the story, just as grammar is a necessary tool for communicating; but grammar isn't the point of language. It is the same with this new speech. It has forms and some rules, but they are looser. Less binding and more for your benefit initially. Training wheels.

No one's favorite

2007-01-08T21:43:00.001-06:00

classroom
Originally uploaded by photo-geek.

I put a doohickey on my blog that tells me how many folks visit it every week. Pure ego. I had visions of being, you know, popular because of...um...my blog.

Shut up.

Mr. Site Meter told me that my readership finally dwindled to zero. The last leaf fell from the tree. According to the meter, you won't read this. Which is fine, because I think you're ugly. And you have a powerful odor. And your diction? Horrendous.

(You can say things like this when you have no readers.)

It's the new year and boy if there hasn't been a moment's peace. Anna resumed her daily battle with over-anxious parents and under-concerned students, putting out the daily fires of the seventh-grader with aplomb and grace. I started a new job in my old department and felt like an incompetent rookie despite my five years of (mostly) dedicated service to my employer. I am preparing my defense for my upcoming review of the midterm exam from my online abnormal psychology. Then I need to take the final. Finally I will be rid of that dead weight, just in time to start my next semester of classes. (Biology, Chemistry, College Algebra, oh my!)

What were the awesome things of 2006? Let's think about that.

Here they are, in a very particular random order:

1. Deciding what I want to be when I grow up. It feels great to find a goal and take steps toward it. It feels good to think about all the people I will help and the lives I will improve, but really I'm only doing it so people will have to call me "Doctor."

2. Our summer jaunt to Michigan. It was mostly spent at my in-laws' cottage on a wee little lake with a very powerful motorboat. The days were long and full of naps and bocce.

3. Seeing the newest generation of my family start to grow up. I have a two-year-old niece and a one-and-a-half-year-old second cousin and both of them are too cute to be legal. They are sweet and personable and make for great photography subjects.

4. The winning of a division championship. St. Paul's Gnarly Balls completed a dominating spring season by winning a nail-biter of a kickball game. We showed that three seasons with only one win (by forfeit) were just a reloading period. Boom. Ain't no glory like kickball glory.

5. New music. So much wonderful music at a heckuva price!

6. Discovering analog photography. Getting a free camera and zoom lens didn't hurt either.

7. Enjoying the vortices of Sedona! Oh yeah, there was also a wedding. It was neat.

8. Anna jumped from the frying pan and into the fire. She is extremely happy to no longer be teaching English, but now she gets to deal with crazy parents and students as a seventh-grade counselor (see above). It should be noted that everyone she sees IS CRAZY. CUH-RAZY.

9. We had an anniversary! A wonderful weekend along the shore of Lake Superior. Getting married in the off-season is the best wedding idea ever.

10. Bionic Man! I had my left knee replaced in April, and though it's been a difficult road since then, the good has outweighed the bad by leaps and bounds. It also convinced me to grow up a little (see #1.)

Lots of things didn't make the cut that were also awesome. A camping trip on Lake Superior. Making virtual friends, then meeting them in real life. Finding an awesome church where we can be members of the choir. Things like that super awesome.

How was your year?

It's Christmas, have a hug!

2006-12-25T19:30:00.001-06:00

Dec. 21, 2006
Originally uploaded by TedSher.

I'm at my in-laws right now, where the weather is warm enough to turn the grass green again. The squirrels are confused because they're fat from all the hibernation-preparatory gorging, but somehow haven't felt the urge to sleep yet. So they continue to gorge. Now they're so fat they hardly have the energy to waddle around and continue to eat. This is the paradox of the squirrel. They have only us to blame.

This Christmas has been wonderful. An early celebration with my family (where we scored a homemade wine rack courtesy of Pa Wicks!), an easier-than-expected travel experience on the morning of the 24th, and a wonderful, yet deliberate, gift-opening session this morning. Anna's family likes to slow down and enjoy the opening of presents. Each person opens a present in turn and everyone gets to admire it. My family is more like an avalanche. It starts out slow and well-meaning, but in the end it's just messy and violent and over in a few minutes. Each has their own charms, I guess.

Biggest score of the year: The complete series of the BBC's The Office. Oh yeah. Come on over and we'll watch it and laugh until we cry or snort up our beverage. Or cry BECAUSE we snorted up our beverage and it stings real bad. Either way, I hope you had a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hannukah, and enjoy your Kwanzaa, everyone. (Happy Boxing Day to you citizens of Great Britain and current or former commonwealths.) We'll see ya next year.

Talking as means of combating fear.

2006-12-21T17:35:00.001-06:00

football
Originally uploaded by framebyframe.

Monday sat with two colleagues, waiting for the exam to start. He was about to complete a phase of his training, and this test was the last hurdle to clear. He felt comfortable about his chances about finishing up on top of his class.

The dumb one next to him told stories. Dumb stories. Tales about riding on top of a Jeep going thirty miles per hour and hopping curbs. Yarns about huge keggers and avoiding cops and stealing things at work. Lies, mostly. Monday felt sorry for him. Sorry enough to let the dumb one copy some of his notes.

The goateed one could sense the dumb one's...density, and pitied him as well. He offered some rejoinders and laughed on occasion. All Monday could do was nod and chuckle now and then, secretly cringing inside every time he heard a "brang" and "aw fuck man" come out of the dumb one's mouth.

Sigh. Still thirty minutes until Monday's exam. The dumb one continued to talk.

Still talking.

One minute, thirty one seconds

2006-12-08T08:49:00.000-06:00

Originally posted by fubuki.

On June 27, 1988, Mike Tyson retained his heavyweight title by beating former IBF heavyweight champ Michael Spinks. Not just beating him, though, but rather knocking him out cold 1:31 into the first round.

This morning, my math assessment test was Mike Tyson and I was Michael Spinks.

I need to take a calculus class to get into most of the grad school programs in which I'm interested. However, I haven't taken a pre-calc level class since high school. Granted, I'm taking stats this fall (and kicking its ass, thank you very much), but it sadly wasn't a pre-req to get into calc. So I had to appeal my placement into intermediate algebra and try to leap frog all the way to calculus.

I prepared by using a lot of the practice tests on Math TV and was doing alright, or so I thought. Things were clicking. Old math memories were re-introducing themselves to my conscience. I was solving f(g(x)), dammit! Alas, it was for naught.

The first of two assessment tests I had to take had 32 questions, and only a handful of them looked familiar. There were things like logarithms and questions about graphing inequalities and dividing improper fractions with compound exponents. I tried, really I did, but I got my ass whooped. Hard. And fast.

So now I'm destined to take intermediate algebra next semester. Then algebra II. And then finally the calc class. Two extra classes. I can still stay on track to start grad school in the fall of 2008, but there will be little rest for me between now and then. Awesome.

Airports and Emotions

2006-12-02T17:37:00.000-06:00

Airport
Originally uploaded by gregschaal.

Baggage claims are always tired. Sometimes sad. It depends if you just left or just came back. Either way, you're exhausted and the baggage claim is thick with it. Despite everyone's grumpiness at having completed a leg of travel, a sense of community evolves when you see people helping people grab heavy suitcases and smiling to their fellow passengers because, hey, they just went through a minor miracle together; a few hours ago, they were both in a city hundreds of miles away or more, and they both just hurtled through the air in a metal tube and, despite the odds, they made it safely to the new city, and what about that one loud guy in the back of the plane? Man, so annoying. Hey, have a good trip. Glad we made it through this together.

Any part of the airport before the security checkpoint is tense and full of nervous jokes. The lobbies beyond the checkpoints are a whole new world, however, open only to the privileged passengers and the airport employees there to sell overpriced paperbacks and flavored coffee drinks to those passengers. The anxiety and pressure of the ticket counter area is gone, replaced by a serene feeling that encourages one to fork over $7 for a Big Mac before flying away.

The gates are filled with two kinds of passengers: the frequent flyers and everyone else. The frequent flyers have long since lost the excitement about defying gravity and have whittled their routine down to a fine art. They're not in a hurry because they know they will be boarding before the common masses and there will be plenty of room in the overhead bins and they have no doubt that there carry-on bags will fit snugly. They're almost bored. The first-class passengers are already one scotch ahead of the crowd and snoozing by the time they lift off. The plebian passenger has to fret about room for their bag which is probably too big anyways, and what if it gets checked? It'll never make it to my destination! Oh wait, you say it will be waiting for me at the next jetway? But I worry! These folks forget to bring along the essentials: bottle of water, reading material, headphones. They are soon thirsty, bored and deaf. And inevitably cranky.

This whole post was inspired by a story I remember hearing from a wise friend. The tale involved him and a special lady friend and an airport in Europe. They desperately wanted to see each other at this faraway port and had only a brief time to do it. When they found each other, they "hugged so hard it was like we were trying to put ourselves back together again."

I love that story.

A drab post with no visual stimulation

2006-11-27T08:41:00.000-06:00

Flickr and Blogger seem to be having domestic difficulties right now, so this post will be like those books you used to read: no pictures. Sorry about that. I hope as much as you do that it gets fixed soon. We all know how entertaining this crap is by itself.

In academic news, I surprised myself and everyone in my extended family by acing my latest stats test. That's right. None wrong. One hundred percent. I was the jerk that ruined the curve for everyone else. Sorry about that, gang. The professor did tell us that he was unusually generous in his grading, but that doesn't bother me none. The twenty I slipped him was a small price to pay for an A.

I've also decided to transition out of my current job and back to my old department. My glamorous international business travel had stopped (thank God) and my daily tasks have slowed to a crawl. While I don't mean to downplay having a lot of spare time at work for frivolous tomfoolery (because isn't that the dream of most cubicle monkeys?), the days are oh so long now and I'd like to have something a little more...oh, I don't know...busy?

I continue my march toward higher education. One semester is almost under the belt, and semester two is tentatively planned. I've been racking up the observation hours at an outpatient clinic and have come to the realization that I do not want to work in a business model like theirs. Not much patient-therapist contact. Not a lot of listening to the patient. Lots of making fun of them behind their back. I'm sure stuff like this happens at most types of health clinics but it seems like such a bitter way to spend your work days.

Thus concludes an update on the mundane. The highlight of my day will be the macaroni and cheese I will make for dinner tonight. And oh, it will be excellent.

Tie the String Around Your Wrist and Let's Be Friends

2006-11-13T17:01:00.000-06:00

World's End
Originally uploaded by Martin and Andy GK.

We went to a party, a Hmong family reunion. A father was reunited with his young son and this was a reason to celebrate. I was introduced to the Hmong culture first-hand. I thought it was spicy and unusual.

When you are faced with a new and potentially overwhelming situation, it helps to have a wise companion by your side to hold your hand and tell you everything will be alright. It also helps when there is good food. I had my eyes opened to a foreign culture over the weekend. There were obvious cultural differences from everything I had ever know and I admit that I felt out of place and awkward at first, but it was a temporary feeling soon overwhelmed by a warm feeling, kind of like a sunrise or waking up and realizing that it's your birthday. A community came together in support of a reunited family and I was lucky enough to witness it. Truly beautiful.

The crux of the event came as everyone took five pieces of string and tied one around the wrist of each member of the family. It was a blessing, a sign of good luck, a symbol that everyone there supported this reunited family.

Oh what a happy world it would be if we came together to support or friends, neighbors and family. What if we included our enemies too? Could we love and include them too? What an earth-shattering concept.

Round and round

2006-10-27T22:28:00.000-05:00

coneyisland_wwheel_redcar
Originally uploaded by dubsyuhs.

Mr. Monday was sitting in his corner office, wondering when he'd have time to do his "job." He had been promoted to chair of his department, a scant three months after starting at the bottom. His notion of his own excellence had been replaced by the feeling that he was the only sucker to agree to this nonsense.

Just when things had settled into a routine, Choirmaster up and announced his resignation from his post, receiving a call from the bigger leagues. This meant that Monday had to do some fieldwork and recruit a replacement, someone who could be trusted, molded, fed, exercised and potty-trained. Finding such a gem on short notice would be two moves shy of a miracle.

But Monday still had plans of his own. He had become a triple-agent. No one save The Fugitive and a few select "independent contractors" knew of his entire scheme. It would take time to complete his plan, but Monday was patient and The Fugitive was encouraging and he now needed to meet with Pizza Delivery Man for a beer and consultation.

Why I need to do this.

2006-10-24T22:03:00.000-05:00

Morning row on the Mississippi
Originally uploaded by sopheava.

Because I feel drawn to it. Because my history does not define my future. Because those voices whispering doubts in my ear all these years were wrong. Because I'm pissed that those voices had me convinced for a while. Because I refuse to complain about my situation without doing anything about it anymore. Because I am bigger or faster or stronger or smarter of tougher than the obstacles in front of me. Because I would be a damn good physical therapist.

Because I know that I can do it. Because I have to prove to myself that I can do it.

Today was tough. This week has been tough. Probably the lowest I've felt since starting school this fall. I will not cave and I will claw my way back up to where I want to be. Because I am better than this. Behold my firmly-set jaw and tremble, all ye who would stand in my way.

Designed to fail

2006-10-22T21:36:00.000-05:00

theatre_of_guilt
Originally uploaded by e50e.

I am taking an online class through Brigham Young University this fall. It's abnormal psychology, a subject I find very interesting. However, the class has become an increasing stressor for me due to the fact that the class is designed to bring a student to his or her knees.

The exams are written to test your knowledge of minutiae, your research skills, and your ability to interpret four ambiguous multiple choice options and decide which one is closest to the correct answer. (Here's a hint: you'll be wrong.)

I'm not taking this class for fun, nor for some fluffy community education credit. It's a pre-requisite for graduate school. I need this class to achieve my academic goal. I'm not fucking around here. BYU, on the other hand, seems to be laughing maniacally at my every C-.

In short, it's been a horrible experience and I wouldn't recommend it to anybody. Stupid BYU.

Now setting the record for most Star Wars references in one posting

2006-10-10T22:35:00.000-05:00

Illustration from pg 32, Safe Driver's Handbook
Originally uploaded by The Jer.

If you had your mind set so firmly upon a goal, and that goal was moved farther away from you, and made more difficult to achieve, would you give up? Would you bemoan your loss and cry and mourn the death of the newly-found purpose? Because I almost did that.

My plans to go back to grad school are based upon a very strict timeline with lots of conditions and assumptions. One deviation from that plan will result in my plans being delayed a year. One whole year. Suddenly Luke's whining to Uncle Owen sounds a lot less bitchy and a lot more tragic: "But it's a whole 'nother year!"

My plan hasn't been delayed yet. Just the already-razor-thin margin for error got smaller. Awesome.

In other news, Jer (pictured above narrowly avoiding decapitation by pickup-truck) and I have been in discussions to start a humorous webtertainment thing. We've waited too long to cash in on this internet cow and we've armed ourselves with a briliiantly unoriginal idea that will take the webbed masses by quiet storm. More to come as details unfold. So, like a couple years or something.

In closing, let me just say that life would be a lot cooler if I was a jedi. I'd use that "invisible push" move all the time: on coworkers, stuck doors, traffic jams, etc.

We're fine, we're all fine now...thank you. How are you?

This way to naptime

2006-09-25T20:49:00.000-05:00

zzyzx rd
Originally uploaded by are you my rik?.

Update:

One month into student life. So far, still sane.

Job: still employed, though enjoyment of job is dropping at a steady rate.

Music: still musical, although time for musical endeavors is scarce. That being said, Iota has a show on the 1st and Thupergroup has a corporate gig on the 20th. Rehearsal time? Maybe.

Marriage: still married. It still totally rocks.

I have accepted the fact that my postings are now found on the "endangered species" list. That just makes them more alluring. My words are now as majestic as a Siberian tiger, no?

The power of an 8th grade math teacher

2006-09-19T22:23:00.000-05:00

opus bbq 023
Originally uploaded by Sho Nuff.

I was always a smart kid growing up. I was in the advanced everything classes. Then, in 8th grade, my math teacher recommended that I be moved from the advanced class to the regular math class. From that point on, I told myself I was bad at math. That means going through high school, college and my formative 20s excusing every dumb mathematical error I made because, well, it's a plain fact that my brain couldn't handle numbers. That's why I took Math for Poets in college.

It's funny, because I don't think I'm that bad at math now. At least I didn't after my first statistics test today. I said a little prayer going in and proceeded to finish the test before anyone else in the class.

Either I totally kicked that test's ass or I missed a page. We'll find out in a week.

Stats, I no longer fear you.

Without whom I'd be completely sunk.

2006-09-07T00:08:00.000-05:00

How much do you want to bet...
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

In May 2003 I went on a date with a really cool gal to the Mall of America. I asked her out by email because I'm a wuss. She said yes because she took pity on me. We ate pizza and went on the ferris wheel (her idea). I almost made myself nauseous because I was so nervous. She wasn't so sure about me at first.

On April 2, 2005, we got married.

Today is her birthday. I want to take this opportunity to tell you that without this wonderful woman by my side, I would be a sad sack of crap. She has been strong when I have been weak, she has been wise when I have been foolish, she has been up when I have been down. She has been a shining example of discipline and hard work, of love and laughter. She has encouraged me in my new academic endeavors. She has been to more of my shows than is required of any person. She has loved me despite myself.

I want the world to know that I love my wife deeply and madly. It is impossible for me to overstate how much she has become half of me. She is my best friend and my closest confidant. She is my partner through life and I can't wait to wake up next to her every morning.

Happy birthday, honey. I love you to pieces.

My time, it is pre-occupied.

2006-09-04T14:02:00.000-05:00

IMG_4023.JPG
Originally uploaded by uberculture.

Hi all.

I'm really sorry to leave you hanging. I don't mean to abandon you. It was made clear to me that all three of you are eagerly awaiting a new post. So here you go.

Labor Day is upon us and thus ends the season of life and frivolity. Now begins the slow hunching of shoulders and applying of layers. I can't wait. I love this weather. No more constant sweating for me, at least for the next nine months.

We hit the state fair on Friday and saw A Prairie Home Companion at the grand stand. It was...pretty good. Also about three hours long. Wow. One musical guest was very good. One was very not so good. My favorite part of the show was the intermission, however. Garrison Keillor implored us to stand up and stretch (not that we needed a lot of prodding) and then led a sing-along of old camp tunes, hymns and patriotic songs. If you know me, you know that I deplore singing anything from two of the three categories listed above. Yet somehow, I loved every minute of it. I sang "Kum Bah Yah" with 3000 strangers and felt not one bit awkward. I sang "America the Beautiful" (first and second verse). Only Mr. Keillor could do that.

It was a magical weekend. Family came from both coasts and from points within. Food was consumed and wine was poured and dessert was eaten despite our best intentions. Toddlers was the center of attention and it was just right.

This was the best Labor Day weekend ever.

A brief brief

2006-08-22T16:59:00.000-05:00

Dick
Originally uploaded by blakley.

Quickly, before I float off to academia, I wanted to let you know:

Iota will be playing a show on Sunday, October 1. We'll be at the Acadia Cafe in Minneapolis, performing with Josh Aran and Sam Keenan.

411:
Josh Aran w/ Iota & Sam Keenan
Acadia Cafe
Sunday, October 1, 2006
Let's say 7:30, but we all know musicians are never on time.
Cover charge: $5(US)

If you can make it, I'd love to see you. We can talk about stuff.

Amen.

2006-08-08T10:21:00.000-05:00

Amen.
Originally uploaded by Theremina.

Got this idea from Flickr friend j.l.b.:

1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. Post it.

My birthday is October 18.

Three events:

1009 - The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, a Christian church in Jerusalem, is completely destroyed by the Fatimid caliph Al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah, who hacks the Church's foundations down to bedrock.

1767 - Mason-Dixon line, survey separating Maryland from Pennsylvania is completed.

1985 - Nintendo releases the Nintendo Entertainment System in the United States.

Two important birthdays:

1939 - Mike Ditka, American football player, coach, and commentator

1939 - Lee Harvey Oswald, purported American assassin of John F. Kennedy (d. 1963)

One interesting death:

1931 - Thomas Edison, American inventor (b. 1847)

Tag, you're it. Now it's your turn.

Two lessons down and still kicking ass.

2006-07-31T15:22:00.000-05:00

Cribbage players
Originally uploaded by TedSher.

I've officially started school again. Or more specifically, I've officially started one online class. Baby steps.

The baby steps will quickly turn into one of those "trying to keep up with your legs while running down a hill" kind of paces. You know the one; flailing arms, teetering balance, often ending up in a pile of grass stains, skinned elbows and possibly tears. That is my prediction for this first semester.

You see, in addition to my online abnormal psych class (which has been thankfully easy so far), I will be taking elementary statistics (stats for 4th-graders, I assume) and Concepts of Physics (the lowest level physics class offered at this community college). That means Monday night = physics lab, Tuesday night = stats, Thursday night = physics class and any other free time = abnormal psych. All while working full time.

After two lessons in my abnormal psych class, I'm rocking an A-. It would be an A if I hadn't missed one of the six multiple choice questions on the first assignment. Stupid poorly-worded questions and your ambiguous answers.

Bring it on, Academia. I'm ready.

Counting on an awful lot

2006-07-17T16:43:00.000-05:00

i think the yashica
Originally uploaded by j.l.b..

So in all honesty, it will a significant amount of divine intervention to get me into my grad school program of choice on time. Don't worry, I'll be tapping into that resource early and often.

To get the proper amount of pre-reqs done this year, I'm planning on taking three courses this fall, possibly three more next spring (though two would be more manageable) and the remainder throughout the 07-08 school year. I'll apply for admission next June (to start the program summer of 2008).

So if I am not able to get into a class I need one of these semesters, I could be screwed. Or if I don't do well in any of these classes, I could be screwed.

"Dear God..."

I can't see that far down the road.

2006-07-11T14:54:00.000-05:00

included in delivery
Originally uploaded by Roman Caesar.

The applications have been printed. The transcripts requested. The schedules planned.

Am I really going back to school? It seems so. Five years from now, God willing, I'll have a Ph.D.

Time to kick some ass.

National Baby Food Festival

2006-07-06T16:10:00.000-05:00

National Baby Food Festival
Originally uploaded by A-Wix.

Hello reader,

Greetings from rural Michigan. Anna and I have been enjoying some relaxing times at her parents' cottage. There has been much grilling, reading, napping, tubing, swimming, sauna-ing, eating, laughing, napping, sleeping, eating, and napping.

We held the inaugural Miller-Wicks-Trisler-Brubaker Kickball Game. It lasted three and one-third innings. We had to call the game after the third injury. Unlevel basepaths are brutal.

The trip has been restful. I'm ready to come home, which I take as a good sign that a vacation has served its purpose and made you ready to tackle your everyday-ness again.

I hope you've all been well. Let's hang out soon. It's the Biblical thing to do.

The Champeens!

2006-06-22T10:29:00.000-05:00

Praise Moves
Originally uploaded by Frauenfelder.

Oh, how the see-saw of life moves so quickly up and down. Oh, how this ragtag group of so-and-sos emerged from the darkest depths of kickball ignominy to climb the highest peaks of athletic glory!

St. Paul's Gnarly Balls are the Spring 2006 Tuesday Thundercats Division Champions (MUSA Twin Cities League).

In four seasons, we've finished in last place twice and won the division championship twice. What can I say? We're a team of extremes. An extreme team.

The Champeenship

2006-06-19T23:17:00.000-05:00

A common sight.
Originally uploaded by The Jer.

I don't often blog about kickball. Ironic? Not really. But the time has come for the news to shouted from the virtual mountaintops: St. Paul's Gnarly Balls, of which I am the coach, is playing for the division championship tomorrow night.

For those of you unfamiliar with the history of St. Paul's Gnarly Balls, let's give you a frame of reference: over the last two seasons, we won one game (by forfeit).

Now, we are a finely tuned machine. We are hungry. It is time for war on the kickball diamond. Field #3 will see carnage like it has never seen before.

A general goes to war with the army he's given. I've been given a good army.

At least they weren't in Japanese.

2006-06-12T16:07:00.000-05:00

cds
Originally uploaded by photo-geek.

I ask for direction, I get a knee surgery. I ask for direction again, I get a prolonged healing period that requires physical therapy. I ask for direction again, I get mind-numbingly boring days at work.

At least I'm now looking at what it would take to get there. And it would take a lot. Maybe five years of a lot. A lot of preparatory work and waiting. And I still don't have the balls to just do it.

I asked for direction, but I wasn't smart enough to ask for easy directions.

Meet me in the thin place.

2006-05-30T22:24:00.000-05:00

chair
Originally uploaded by fubuki.

It's that place where things are fleeting and rare. Things happen faster here but slower like a dream where the important details are emphasized through a pause. Once you've reached the thin place, you will know your time there will be short, but don't hurry it. Enjoy our time here, for you are a lucky one.

We will think deeper thoughts and ponder truer memories. Our tears will be sadder and our laughter will echo higher. Our questions will be noticed and recorded and maybe answered. Our angry yells will find a listening ear and our pounding fists will find a strong chest to absorb our blows. The thin place is not to be trifled with; it is small enough to be sneezed away and big enough to take your worst. It is to be feasted upon with a glass of wine and a cool breeze.

Meet me, friend, in the thin place. We can talk a talk of brothers and fools and find that we are wiser in the end. Sit with me, here in the thin place, knowing that it is rare and fleeting, and enjoy this wine with me. This is the stuff of life, friend. These are the real times.

Not a utilitarian

2006-05-21T21:49:00.000-05:00

Originally uploaded by _rebekka.

"Peter, our God is not a utilitarian," said Choirmaster to The Mystic, for that was The Mystic's name. Choirmaster had just been woken up by a phone call from The Mystic at a Sunday-morning hour that even the most pious shunned.

The Mystic was at a hospital, tending to a family in his charge while their new baby girl was being born. This girl had the world stacked against her from the start and the fact that she wanted to make an appearance at all was a victory worth celebrating. The Mystic was there, offering whatever services he could, knowing that the corporeal needs outweighed the ethereal for the time being. But he also needed to be at work later that morning and he fretted so. Should he go? Should he stay? What will happen if I stay?

Choirmaster was a wise man steeped in years of Academia and high book shelves. He had sung karoake in Thailand and taught young people in Cairo. He knew his way around a score. The Mystic liked to bounce ideas off of Choirmaster to see how they rang. The Mystic was fretting this particular morning, so he rang Choirmaster while it was still dark. "I have to be at work in a few hours and I haven't slept and my sermon isn't done and this family is about to bring a new life into this world and I want to help them and I want to tend to my flock and what should I do?"

"Peter," Choirmaster said with more clarity and poise than could be expected of a just-woken man, "our God is not a utilitarian. Stay with the family. We can take care of ourselves for today."

The Mystic hung up the phone, only understanding the last two sentences of that conversation. After he had looked up "utilitarianism" in the dictionary did he smile to himself and agree with Choirmaster.

He pondered that thought so much that it was little surprise that his next sermon leaned heavily upon it. His words touched on a lot of points Mr. Monday had been lately discussing with his friends Pizza Delivery Man and Ms. Fargo. Monday pulled one simple statement from The Mystic's sermon: Our God does not often make sense.

Our God is not a utilitarian. He leaves the ninety-nine to find the lost one. He forgives our entire past in the blink of an eye, and he kills the fig tree that bears no fruit. He leads Israel through the desert for forty years.

He is a reckless and profound lover, and not the follower of a logic that we comprehend. His methods do not always make sense.

Monday couldn't help but think of Captain Kirk's line from Star Trek III: The Search for Spock.

"The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many."

Monday slowly strummed his guitar, unwinding from the day and processing his thoughts. He absent-mindedly plucked out "Blackbird" while thinking about an unexpected offer at work. Seems that he had been fingered by the higher-ups to be the new head of his Board of Committees. Was it a boon? Was he next in line to be fed to the wolves? He had only been on the job a few months and now he was getting the corner office, the one with the little four-cup Mr. Coffee. That would be sweet indeed. Monday played the chorus one more time ("Blackbird fly into the light of a dark, black night"), sent a quick email accepting the position then went to bed, contentedly knowing that the cosmos didn't make sense to him.

Mix CDs and the Importance of Breakfast

2006-05-04T22:14:00.000-05:00

Originally uploaded by frewmanchu.

Monday sat with a friend he had made at work. He was a strange cat, all mysticism and mix CDs and knowing the importance of breakfast, not at all what most would consider the typical employee at the parent corporation.

The Mystic came to visit Monday at a time when Monday needed to see a friendly face and hear some good words. They both knew the importance of breakfast and good words. The words didn't even have to be strung together into long, important thoughts to be potent (but sometimes they were). Just good, ripe words that were full of juice and nutrition. The Mystic brought such words to Monday.

Monday and The Mystic hadn't known each other for very long, maybe a year as casual coworkers who knew that they shared a love of music. More recently, Monday had gotten to know the Mystic better, to the point where they shared their dark sides with each other. Once you've shared one of your dark sides with a person, you are bound to them on a level that may be buried over time, but will never be broken. Monday and The Mystic had such a bond, but they didn't dwell on it. They acknowledged its presence, for it was foolish to deny it, and moved on to the good words.

The words were lyrics from a very old song. They were about getting the things you need when you need them, and knowing when you just got your ass saved by some divine guidance. There was also rejoicing.

The Mystic only stayed a short while. He knew his duty and chose not to burden Monday with extra friendship. It was not needed at that time. The Mystic said a short prayer over Monday, shook his hand, and vanished into the hall. Monday fell asleep contentedly.