gut feelings

Home sick today and pretty much staying as prone as possible. I feel a little like the boy who cried "diverticulitis" but this time has me worried. The first time I had to spend two weeks in the hospital. Since then I have been sensitive to the warning signs and have been proactive in seeking care. For the last two "flare ups" I went to the doctor and had tests and everything was fine and the localized dicomfort went away in a week or so.

This time I am having serious pain and spent last night with a fever. Temp is back to normal now, but I am still worried, and no word from the Doctor yet. I really don't want to go through this again and just hope it'll pass with rest.

Back to bed with me, and no more posts for you.

Later.

the people in my head

It keeps coming back to this. This line has received the most quotes back to me as the "best line of the blog." And it's Shilpa's favorite, so I'll repeat it here:

In the cocktail party in my head, Subtlety had passed out on the sofa and Flirty and Loud were drawing on her with a magic marker. Slutty was doing shots in the bedroom and getting into costume for a performance later.

Media markets and bargin bins

You may recall I met a handsome local news reporter this Christmas who wasn't all that thrilled about moving to Nashville for the job as it was, well Nashville. Now in professional TV terms, Nashville is a good-sized market serving middle Tennessee and Kentucky. As a world-traveled, gay man, he'd rather be in a hipper market like Atlanta. But both Nashville and Atlanta have the same sort of social-hipness issue: there's the metropolitan area, and the rest is rural boondocks. And as news people, you've got to cover the boonies too, despite the fact that residents there think that Prada is that commie newspaper.

If he had returned my calls, I might have e-mailed him this morning to let him know that landing a job as a television news reporter in Nashville isn't all that bad.

He could be working at News 7 in Virginia ("Your Hometown Station"), whose breaking news is Virginians oppose cockfighting.

And even then, it's only 79% of them who are "aginnit." Does that mean that just over a fifth of the people in Virginia are in favor of cockfighting? Yipes.

.................................
Update:
I am not making this up.
These are the "Top Headlines" right now:

• Urn and ashes recovered by police
• Customers brave the cold to get free hamburgers
• Lynchburg woman appears on The Price is Right
• Fire damages Roanoke seafood restaurant

I don't know...what are you doing Sunday?

Oh, that's right. It's the SuperBowl.

And Miami is ready to welcome YOU!

Tips for Miami residents my favorite Miami resident: Dave Barry.

That's why this week we all need to be "goodwill ambassadors" for South Florida. Let's welcome our Super Bowl visitors with open arms. Let's kiss them on the lips while inserting a little goodwill tongue. Above all, let's keep them out of trouble. Remember that many of this year's Super Bowl visitors are coming from the Midwest, which is often called "the nation's heartland," because it is covered with sleet. Midwesterners tend to be friendly, polite, honest and trusting, so down here they are dead meat. We need to keep an eye on them. If you see a visitor who looks confused, don't hesitate to offer help:

YOU: Hello! I see you are from the Midwest.
VISITORS: Why, yes we are! How could you tell?
YOU: By your non-taut, yogurt-colored bodies. Do you need directions?
VISITORS: Yes, thanks! We want to go to the beach.
YOU: Like that?
VISITORS: Yes.
YOU: We have no beach.

In case 80's sitcoms weren't scary enough

The good deranged people over at the Fatal Farm have re-edited/ re-envisioned the intros to a variety of 80's TV shows, including Cheers, Happy Days, Night Court, and the Golden Girls.

Some are funny, some are interesting, but all are pretty disturbing.

If your mental associations with the 80s aren't haunting enough, check these out.

I'm betting Paul Day writes in for a redux of Small Wonder. But that show is disturbing enough as it is. >shudder<

Blue Men Group

For the sixth year, Mark Casey hosted his increasingly fabulous Post Holidays Blues Party.

Me: feathers, sequins, and battery operated pants and cuff links.

My kind of party.


Wilson and the Blue Angles
Ron Jenkins and Jorge Hernandez


and the Blue Group

flickr photoset

hot Indian dish

Shilpa has provided some reference material on Hrithik Rosha.

As well as some photographic evidence:


Hot? Check.
Gay? Pretty check.
Two thumbs on his right hand? Check Checkity check check check.

And other photo of him coming out of some West Hollywood gay bar/MTV Style Awards:



Shilpa adds: There are about a billion wallpapers of him. All gay. Oh, and the movie's name is: Mujhse Dosti Karoge, and your translation was damn near perfect!

My translation, you recall, was "Must Kareoke with Dotty!"

Those crazy Bollywood types.

Three thumbs up

Last night, to welcome Kevin back to our fold (he's been skiing in Utah for three weeks and desperately needed a drink)-- Shilpa and I planned a Bollywood Spa Night at her place.

Kevin is CRAZY for the Bollywood, and Shilpa is all over it.

We brought booze and she cooked a fab Indian dinner, then we sprawled out in the living room with the 134 various products girls tend to accumulate by gift or by choice.

The Bollywood selection was one of her favorites (I think it translates to "Be My Friend," she has the DVD, of course) which is basically the the Indian retake of The Truth About Cats and Dogs female-centric retake on the Cyrano de Bergerac tale. The male lead is hot, and for an Indian guy he's way hot. Shilpa is sure he's gay, but there were too many cultural differences jamming our gaydar and Kevin and I failed to get a clear reading.

We were also much mesmerized by the clever camera angles that would linger on his long face or muscled torso, and yet obscure the fact that he has two tumbs on one hand! (All his math is in base eleven.)

And of course, while Shilps enjoyed a deep conditioning treatment, she took care of her boys with beauty masks:


Kev's had retinol or whatever it's called and that seemed to be an issue. Some sort of bitch-reducer I think...



Ahhh.

Total entertainment immersion: food, drinks, silly movie with lavish dance numbers, and lots and lots of product.

The cucumbers weren't the only things chilling.



And I will say, today my skin looks awesome.

I'm off now to join Kevin for our A.C.T. performance: The Circle. We missed the Out with A.C.T. parties for this performance (I was at the MBA thing and Kevin was in Utah), but I think it is kind of cool that we unwittingly rescheduled our tickets for tonight, on the birthday of the playwright.

just chillin'

Why gay men really love cucumbers.

When Al Jolson goes negative

One hell of a go-cup

Now, me and mine (okay, I and mine) have been known to celebrate the roadie, or as we say in Nashville: "go cups", but this takes mobile reveling to the professional level.

From barproducts.com:


From the catalog copy:

Take your bar with you wherever you go!!! From the college student to the most experienced flair champion, this portable bar allows you to set up at any special event and have everything you need at your fingertips.

via Gizmodo

Overheard at work - 18

Wilson, wishing for a one-night stand with a married guy: "But is it cheating if it's with a man?"
Shilpa: "YES! It's cheating if it's with a man! or a monkey! or a rabbit!"

Uh, I think cheating on your wife with a monkey is waaaaaay worse than fooling around with a guy.

And a rabbit your honor, now that's disgusting.

iAlumn

The Apple version of Alumni.

Shelby Bailey Wheliss and I have been tapped to be Class Agents for Ensworth class of '85.

I have decided that we're going to call ourselves Class Secret Agents.

Sounds cooler.

who's feeling blue?

Oh yeah... Mark Casey's annual Post Holiday Blues party is this Saturday (hence the title for the previous post). Blue attire is required-- and for attire, one really has to step up. This will be the sixth annual, and participants are getting more and more into the theme: dying bodies, hair, clothes, and finding more outrageous combinations of blue sequins, leather, feathers, battery-powered wardrobes, and get-ups.

Last year I found a blue-sequined dinner jacket, but it was roasting to wear. (And, being me, it's the kind of thing I can wear again. See photo from Mac's 40th at right.)

I spent Saturday shopping for materials and have devised a feathered trim with battery operated lights combo for the pants. I thought I'd make a cape from some sequined material, but that's likely to be too warm to wear(Mark's place is roasting, probably because the men are so hot).

After a Harvey's brunch with Kate, I went over to Barney's Sunday afternoon for a little arts/craft day for the outfit, but five seconds into it we decided it would just be easier to safty-pin the whole thing together the night of, so we just chilled the rest of the afternoon with tv, laptops, and vodka sodas.

Ending the evening with Sundance Saloon, all in all a sweet Sunday.

off white, preparing for blue

Friday night was the opening of Rosana's (Rosana Castrillo Diaz (Merritt)) new solo show at Anthony Meier's gallery (historic home originally designed and built by De Young for his daughter).

Rosana's work continues to impress and inspire, working as much with, and in some cases more so, shadow and space around her work than the physical media itself. It's hard to explain, but really, GO.

The Gallery has a few scans on its Web site, but digital images of white-on-white artwork whose brush-stroke detail may be measured in microns completely fail to represent the originals.

Show details:
January 23- March 2
Anthony Meier Fine Arts
1969 California Street

I came to know Rosana as she married Eli Merrit, another Nashvillian in San Francisco to whom I have many familial ties. Eli and Rosana met in Spain (she herself is Spanish). I met Eli many summers ago at Andrew McAllister's wedding (his mother was a Merritt) in Fairfax. Eli and Rosana live off of Dolores Park and we have become good friends. I seem them much less since the birth of little Allejandro/Alex, who I think is now around four.

I don't remember how it started-- either I invited RoMo along to a party at their place and then to her shows, or invited him to her show at the SF MOMA and then took him along to their parties. Or it may have been a Brown/Candee party connection. RoMo is good for all proper invitations. Regardless, Eli and Rosana have been impressed with RoMo since he brought a blooming bough from a cherry tree to one of their parties (I had to pick him up as it wouldn't fit in the cab, luckily, their kitchen ceiling vaults two and a half stories and could accommodate the flora.). So I was sure to give Eli and Rosana RoMo’s address when they were sending out invitations.

Earlier in the week, RoMo indicated he would be bringing a date (the recurring and physically impressive arm-candy known only as "Kazakhstan"). So I, of course, wanted to bring a date of my own. I really enjoy Dean's company, and spent some quality time with him on Monday, as Sunday morning his bf decided to break it off with him. While supremely sexy and emotionally vulnerable are often a good mix in a man, I had only gentlemanly intentions when I asked him to be my companion for the evening.

As plans developed over the week, Barney decided to join us too and RoMo’s date was dropped by Kazakhstan (apparently something to do with a wife), so the night became more about me and my pals and including Dean than a Wilson and Dean double-date with RoMo and Kazakhstan. While Dean was a bit reserved during the show (understandably), once we dropped off RoMo at BoHo and found a place on Polk Street for dinner, he seemed to liven up.

Barney, who lives just up the west side Nob Hill, is my connoisseur for Polk Street. He recommended one of the better Vietnamese places on the 'strasse. At the demand of both Barney and Dean, I tried the Vietnamese coffee, complete with sweet, gooey condensed milk, and now have an ongoing jonesing for it as if it were crack.

Menu selection led to a little personal revelation from Dean. Growing up and for many years he had a condition by which would sweat profusely from his palms. Like faucets. Hearing his tale it seemed you could milk his fingers like udders. As an adult he had surgery to correct this-- surgery which entered his spine through the back of his neck no less. (He showed us the scar.)

The doctors told him that because his body is so accustomed to shedding such a volume of water, the body may compensate in other ways and there may be some unexpected side-effects. Six-weeks post surgery, he thought he had escaped unscathed. Until a spicy dinner with friends during which he shed over a liter of sweat from his scalp.

Dean has a shaved head now, and he told us this story as he perused his dining options. Generally anything spicy will set him off, even just a little black pepper. Barney and I were excited to see this phenomenon, but apparently it is not an amusing but an exorbitant amount of sweat never to be dared without a turban.

While the restaurant was extremely tasty, it was fairly low-frills and fairly empty. The couple facing us was fun to watch: he was a 6'3", built, white guy and she was the diminutive asian girlfriend. He looked like he was in gym clothes, and he looked good in them (well, mostly below the neck). Both he and his girlfriend were eating/drinking out of what appeared to be big chunks of styrofoam. On the way back from the loo, Barney took this opportunity to cruise the big lummox and asked him about it, which gave us our catch phrase for the night.

Hardly able to contain himself, Barney returned to the table and reported, “I asked him what that was and he said it was a coconut: you eat the meat and suck out the juice.”

Nuff said. (and yes, we have the humor of twelve-year-old boys)

Having been up since 4:30 and working a full day, Dean called it a night after dinner. Javits had invited us to see one of his friends perform at the Cinch at 11:00, so Barney and I walked up to the Lush Lounge to kill some time and entertain ourselves.

I won’t go off on it here because I will likely only write irate, ranting pages but when the fuck did Polkestrasse turn into the New Marina? The Lush has always been a gay/tranny/trendy bar with zero attitude and alternative vibe with cabaret acts. Now it is like Dalva was in the mid-90s. The place was packed with early-20s (I was begging for someone at the door to card these kids) blond newcomers and the desperate boys who wanted them. I was particular pissed at the attitude of a teeny-bopped English girl and her company who tried to spew me some ‘tude while we took seats in the window.

Keep in mind, we are friends with the owners. Kenny and his partners started this bar years ago and are pretty much the ones responsible for the decade-long gentrification of Polk Street. In the 70s and 80s, Polk Street was pretty dank, dangerous, mostly gay, lots of leather, and lots of drugs, hustlers, trannies, whores, and various immigrants and indigents. While the seedy bars have been replaced by the trendy, and the drugs and hustlers have mostly moved on, the trannies still walk the walk and are afforded their due respect by the locals and the experienced.

We love Kenny, and are happy that his venture has been successful and that he was able to open another and successfully launch a hipster bar up the street. But this is our Lush, our ‘strasse, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to take any lip from a 20-something straight twinkie girl thinking she’s alternative, and a tourist at that. (See I told you this would become a rant.) I had been a gentleman for as long as I could and started to seethe. It was only Barney who was able to keep me from verbally pummeling her like some sort of scene from Designing Women. It was painful to keep my sharp tongue sheathed.

Lamenting the absence of the cool young female side-kick, we started texting Shilpa to join us. Which led to the next favorite line of the night, and best taken overheard and out of context:

“Is there a ‘t’ in ‘cootch’?”

Overheard at work - 17

"I want a nine-incher now! Six inches is never enough, and the foot-long is just too much to handle!"

-Co-worker frustrated with the lack of a mid-range, nine-inch sandwich on the Subway menu.

way with the cool

The new Apple iPhone has an amazing multi-touch-screen interface.

But I've got to get me one of these. Designed by Jeff Han, a research scientist for New York University's Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences, the applications for this visual/touch interface are almost endless-- not only for visual artisits and managers, but for information professionals. I'm imagining a whole new field of information design, architecture, and retrieval. Where can I get a job designing that?

Check out this video.

And when you have the time, the extensive article.

It kills me that the guy who deigned and made all this is only 30. What have I been doing with my life?

Oh yeah.



Earlier, smaller demo on from YouTube:



By the way, during the cool earth zoom in and map manipulation, when he switches from Boston to San Francisco, you can see my house.

time to chill

>sigh<

What a season. What I need is time to chill, and what I've got is freezing cold weather. I feel like I have been running ragged since October-—preparing for Halloween, then frantically trying to manage my increasing workload and the lead up to Thanksgiving, then maniacally trying to manage workload, social load, and family load leading up to Christmas and the Nashville vacation. Then I flew back, exhausted, with only a couple of days to prepare for the Annual NYD Black-Eyed Pea Chili Party, then there was that party, which was immediately followed by three weeks of work which was full of items waiting until "after the holidays."

I'm beat.

It seems as I get older, my weekends have less social obligations/opportunities than my weeknights. Thankfully, the first week of 2007, and this week, were four-day work weeks. And absent of social obligation, I have been able to spend my weekends recuperating and managing the backlog of home work. But when it comes to Saturday or Sunday mornings, the inertia can be debilitating. Knowing I have a list of to-do's for the day (clean up from the party, take down Christmas decorations, take everything out of the hall closet to get at Christmas storage and then shove it all back, return luggage to bottom of closet, clean kitchen, write thank-you notes, pay bills, fix things, clean everything else in the house, do laundry, edit photos, etc.) makes it very difficult to get out of bed. That, and being so wiped out from the week.

The first Saturday after New Year's was spent largely procrastinating, until Paul Day came over to hang out while I took down all of the decorations from Christmas and NYD. Barney had been attending a conference on the Parnassus campus, so walked downhill to join us for an afternoon of sitting around, drinking coffee and cocktails, reading trashy magazines, and watch the most wretched of cable soap operas: Dante's Cove.

Let's take a moment for Dante's Cove.

It's a gay, gothic, beach-side, supernatural drama with atrocious-to-passable writing and some really superb examples of superbly bad acting. And some nice soft-core sex scenes with full frontals of beautiful people, gay, straight, men, and women. To be honest, some of the leads can act almost as well as they look, but the cast of supporting/extra roles seems filled by the craft services or cleaning staff on Turks and Caicos where this is filmed (but not set— Why is everyone in the "hospital" speaking with crazy Dutch accents?).

It's complete trash and, taken from a certain perspective, entirely entertaining. There's plenty of pretty, but it comes off more of an unintentional comedy when the MST3K feel kicks in—best viewed with others.

Paul had dinner plans, and Barney and I were content with a quiet night of cheap eats and a movie. Bill and Jeff called asking if we would like to join them for dinner. However, beyond the idea of dinner, they had no plan. In absence of plan, I proposed adventure.

Now, love Jeff and Bill, but I would not set them in the madcap adventure camp. Not that I was proposing an adventure that was truly madcap, I’m just sayin’.

I did propose an excursion out of the City (gasp!) to the batshit crazy, enormously vast, industrial designed, sushi/seafood/hot food buffet in the new Century Theater Complex off the interstate in Daly City. Even though Jeff doesn’t eat fish, they were up for it.


High-larious. Our waiter looked like he had an after-gig as a server at Asia SF. And the four of us raised the number of white folk in the place to five. They offered us lobster “on the house,” which really makes no sense at an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. What they meant is you had to ask for it and they had to bring it to you as they limited portions to one-half tail to a customer.


It was pretty nasty. It looked a bit scary, and was chewy enough that for a moment I thought I could blow a lobster meat bubble. Attempts to identify the covering substance were unsuccessful.

Bill headed for the salads, prime rib, and other items, Bill had a little of everything, and Barney and I just ate sushi until we were catatonic. Pretty good actually. Nothing to write Tokyo about, but good sushi. And the seared tuna fillets were delicious.

There was also, of course, a dessert bar, but I was afraid of the “non-dairy ice cream.” Can you call it ice cream if there is no cream? Our frozen dairy-like treat was tasty though.

It took us over 30 minutes just to get out of the parking structure.

Considering the previous three months, this was a very tame weekend.

But again, the mid-week proved busy, and I was grateful for another weekend without obligation, and a three-day weekend at that. It has been so brutally ass-cold no one has wanted to venture outside. Other than Sundance, my big night out was curled under fleece and blankets at Barney’s watching Sin City on DVD.

So Tuesday (yesterday) rolls around and I have plans to (1) not spend any more money and (2) start the must-drop-lbs diet.

It turns out to be a total crap day at work, and while the abuse continues, yesterday Shilpa bore the brunt of the blasts. Come 6:00, baby needed a bottle, so Amy Day and I walked with her down to Yancy’s for a drink. Another cold night, the place was empty. We needed a game of some sort instead of the video games there, and we didn’t feel like darts. I went next door to Tutti Frutti in seach of travel games. The shopkeeper asked me what I was looking for.

“We’re just drinking next door and wanted to play a game. What have you got?”
“How drunk are you?”

I wanted to say “this much” but we hadn’t started yet. The only game they had that was really of interest to me/us was a travel set of Scrabble, but Shilpa already had one and this model was pushing $50. A bit steep for a beer game and not in my “need to stop spending money” plan. I picked out a baby onezie for baby Leland (reading "Do I look like I was born yesterday?") and left with a travel version of Hungry Hungry Hippos, which was met with much glee.


However, this turned out not to be as much fun as expected as one of the hippos was bulimic.

You can also see how wretchedly cold everything is here. Even deep in the bar we kept on coats and hats.

Keeping with the “why am I out only on weeknights” trend, I failed in my (1) not spending money and (2) dieting plan by calling Kelly to join us and cabbing over to Martin Mack’s on Haight for pub food and trivia night, which featured lots of fried things, carbs, and beer.

Yummy, but a dangerous trend.

Tonight: more heavy bar food. MBA is hosting an SF alumni event at McCormick & Schmick’s in Ghiradeli Square.

Off there now…

Overheard at work - 16

"I can't take her anywhere."

"She keeps finding her way back?"

Danger, Will Robinson

Wisdom in my ear from Coco.

E-mail tonight from Coco:

To all the beautiful Gay Men in my life...A very close friend of mine Joseph was gay-bashed tonight right in front of Dolores Cafe, at 18th and Dolores.
He's okay, they broke his nose and a few teeth. A lot of us are Mission dwellers, and although we love our funky neighborhood, the fact is the ghetto will raise it's ugly head every so often. With that in mind....PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be careful out there. This is a great city with a lot of great people in it, but a handful of bad ones too. DON'T forget that!!!

love you all...xoxo-coco

Let's be careful out there!

Me included.

all up in her grill

Living the iLife, my niece Ellen came home today, fired up the iMac, opened PhotoBooth, and e-mailed her new look to her uncles.


Although she is a little blue in the hue (blame the monitor), she digs the new braces.

Our little girl is growing up!

6 months anticipation

Looks June is going to be a hot month.

The new iPhone will be released, and so will the Silver Surfer.



It's ass cold in SF today. I'm ready for the summer. When it will be merely elbow cold.

How fat is she?

That woman is so fat...

How fat is she?

Her favorite decoration is Han Solo frozen in carbonite.

My coworker is steamin'

Shilpa must have some sort of circulatory deficiency. She is always cold. They installed an extra power line to her office because her heater kept blowing circuits.

Yesterday her office was so unbearably hot I had to excuse myself as I stepped over Dr. Rosenbaum who had come in for a schvitz.

I'm thinking this should be her next office supply: The USB-powered electric blanket.


Apparently, it is also marketed as a cape. Which is fine as she is so super.

Overheard at work - 15

"Remember when we were coming home on Muni and that guy was totally making out with his dog? He was pretty drunk, but still, that was nasty."

just sayin'

It's been a busy day all day. I am blogging during a quiet moment in very long meeting.

During this meeting, I was trying to illuminate a situation (as I am wont to do) by use of a familiar colorful metaphor.

Well, familiar to me.

I forget that by either my exposure to a variety of linguistic turns as an editor and librarian, or just by being such a good old Southern boy, my personal language bank includes phrases I consider stock but others consider foreign. I imagine this one came to me by the Southern route.

I was trying to sum up a situation wherein it was just easier and wiser not to exert what would ultimately be a futile effort—not only a futile effort, but one which would generate frustration or hostility in the opposing character and object of the effort.

"Well, I just didn't get into it because it would be like teaching a pig to sing."

When I saw the blank stares I explained matter-of-fact-ly:

There is an old saying,
"Never try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and it annoys the pig."

They loved it. But I feel like such a hick.

But a clever hick.

iPhone comment

Yeah, it is that cool.

But as the crowd was looking up in quiet awe at the sample rotating in its glass showcase, someone said, "Can you imagine the first time you drop that?"

At least ten people around me audibly gasped.

early adopt the iPhone?

I always say never get the first model of anything, especially gadgets.

But baby needs a new phone, and this iPhone is psycho sweet.

Consider the Blackberry squashed.

----------------
instant e-mail from a friend:

Yep, this "phone" looks mighty sweet. I must say. And in a year it'll be half the size or something. Or will use nano-technology to fold up and be smooth as silk.

You have to buy one so I can geek out over it because I don't have the money right now. For phones anyway. Mine works well enough.

Then I'll buy the next generation that'll arrive next January. It'll give blowjobs or something.

Live Blogging

MacRumorsLive is live blogging from the MacWorld keynote speech.

Very cool.

iPhone has been announced.

And it looks like only Pete at the Cult of Mac was right!

Success of iPhone to be super iSync.

bloody brilliant

Kevin has been on a year-long quest for the best bloody mary in San Francisco.

When he finds it, I hope I get to taste it through one of these.

Hollow celery straws. Coming to a novelty bar near you.

technofrenzy

With both the Consumer Electronics show and MacWorld going on this week, there will be enough gadgets and sleek new technology to make all of our inner geeks shake like a seven-year-old on two dozen pixie sticks.

Just thinking about it makes me drool just a little bit.

Stay tuned to Gizmodo for all of the cool and/or crazy items showing up at CES, and Apple will have sleek and subltle announcements showing up on their home page, but after they have been debuted on stage of course.

From Gizmodo:
Star Wars Projector Shaped Like R2D2, Does Not Project Leia Holos

some light reading

Dr. May et al's newest publication is now on PubMed.

Coffee date

If I were to run a personal ad, I imagine it would look something like this:


seeks



Looking for some hot Joe to pick me up.

When does a lie go too far?

I imagine this clip could be used in an "after-school special" sort of way, instructing kids on such moral topics as "be true to yourself" and "how lying leads to trouble."

You know, if the teacher were really f'd up.

I've been watching this American Dad clip over and over and I can't stop laughing.

A daily dose of cute

One of the things Ellen asked for Christmas this year was a lap desk, which she got.

Jay/Steff sent me these pics from a camera phone tonight.



"Ellen gets some help with her homework (using her new lap desk) from Scout & Bogey."

My GOD that kid is adorable. So sweet she's eating through my enamel.

Shout out, and prayers too.

Paul's dad went in for over six and half hours of surgery today. Double bypass.

Sending all the positive thoughts I can.

Shout Love out.

fireplace chats

For New Year's Day, I thought I would have iPhoto play a slideshow of 2006-a year in pictures. But with over a thousand images, the app kept crashing. It did give me an opportunity to look back over the year and remember all the beauty and crazy ass shit I've seen this year.

--Not to mention over the Christmas holiday. I have lots of pics and some fun tales to tell. But those will have to wait until I have the time to tell them. I've been working past 8:00 every night this week and am not eager to spend many more hours in front of a computer once I get home.

Last night, however, was very warming. I spent about 45 minutes chatting with my family. I can tell you that Apple's iChat is the gold standard for home video conferencing--I really felt like I was there and part of the experience. Jay's household made the switch from PCs to Macs warlier this year, and have a 20" iMac and a 15" MacBook-- both with dual-core processors and built-in iSight cameras. Mom has an iMac with a camera too, so I feel like I am home for visits pretty often- so much cheaper than airfare.

My Apple enthusiasm has converted brother Jay-- after a couple of iChat sessions and showing him how unbelievably easy iPhoto and iLife are to use, he signed up for a dot Mac account to play too.

Technology has invaded our lives in many ways over the past generation, and I thought what my grandmother might think of last night's experience.

Stephanie and the kids came home from the hospital visiting Mac, Emily, and newborn Leland, rang me on the computer and while they were video-chatting with me uploaded their baby photos to iPhoto and sent the pics, and a video, via to my desktop via the stream. While this was going on, Mac had stopped by his office to e-mail me his delivery/birthday photos and I received his batch at the same time. While chatting away with my family, felling as ifI were in the same room, I was able to whip up a Web page for Mac and Emliy to share with their friends (so much easier to send and forward a URL than attachments), complete with letter from Mac, photos of all, a video clip from Ellen, and even a soundtrack. All in a few minutes, and while video chatting with the others.

As the baby will be coming home soon, Mac brought their dogs (Scout and Bogey) over to Jay and Steff's to stay for a week while Mac and Emily settle in with Leland. When Mac stopped by Jay's, I was still online--I not only got to visit with my brother/the new excited father, but I also got to see his face as he explored the just-published Web page from their computer. It was all rather surreal.

Some say technology leaves them cold. My PowerBook has never made me feel warmer.

Or, rather, hot. That much video and graphic processing: iChat, iPhoto, Mail and iWeb all at once made the processor unbelievably hot. I eneded up resting it on an frozen gel pack from the freezer.

Introducing: Leland Keltner Hardcastle

Mac and Emily had their baby New Year's Day!

Photos just in.

Welcome to the world Leland Keltner Hardcastle.







Full photos and story online on my personal site.

Best line of the day

From Nervous Breakdown:

"If you need us, we'll be at the Betty Ford Clinic. At the bar."

Assessment

"Well, it's an arm's length from the truth. Not honestly true, but within reach."

Best wishes for 2007

Now that I have made it through Christmas and New Year's, I'll be back ion the blog. I have a whole host of holiday stories to share, and some will be told in pictures. These things take time to write, so they will be posted as I am able.

Work, of course, has piled up during the break and this will require my immediate attention.

The Annual Wilson Hardcastle's Papa John's Black-Eyed Pea Chili New Year's Day Party (how many possessives is that?) was a hit again this year. Yesterday's chill and chili had about half of the usual participants, but was exceptionally pleasant as it kept it from being obstructively crowded (Some may say it was still too crowded-- I do need a bigger place. Feel free to buy me a house.)



Happy New Year!