Happy Birthday, Nicholas!

Yes lemurs, it's hard to imagine but the Boo is already a year old. Today we are celebrating just the three of us, since I'm in Santa Fe for the bulk of the summer and the rest of the family is not here. We got him some loot, including an assortment of musical instruments...the big upset is that he managed to get the kazoo to work, but the harmonica, which is technically speaking much easier to get noise out of, flummoxed him. He remains more interested in the packaging, which is of course how we know he is normal.

The celebration will culminate in his very first chocolate cake ever, cooked by his beautiful Mama. He has many years to complain about not getting a store-bought cake like the other kids. And we don't need to try making Teletubbies or Spider-man themed frosting....yet.

Maybe next year.


In the meantime, he is eating his Whole Foods Morning-O's with a fork. Sort of.

We love you Boo. Thank you for coming into our world.

"Aristophanes is ridiculous"

Been traveling the world over, for weeks at a time. Was in Rome during the pope's funeral -- barely made it out before they closed the airports. It was a hairball of biblical proportions, which is kind of appropriate.

I'm in Japan right now, making eyes at the unopened sushi tray to my right (one of my colleagues behind the glass here has decided to forego dinner in favor of a home cooked meal) and the tuna is looking tempting.

Overheard as these two American girls walked past me down the aisle (I think we were in transit from Barcelona to Milan).
She: I hate sitting in the window seat.
She: Embrace your fear.
She: It's not fear. I hate having to climb over people to get to the bathroom.
She: Embrace your bladder.

Captain, there be Boos here!

I thought those guys were in favor of less government...

John Scalzi has so adeptly captured my distaste for the whole Terri Schiavo business that I will quote liberally from his thoughts on the matter. If you click on the link to the MSNBC article, you will note that DeLay has said sanctity of life supercedes sanctity of marriage. Interesting...I wonder how many other high profile cases of this magnitude the government will suddenly feel compelled to weigh in on. And let me go on record here in the public domain that if my brain ever turns to soup, I hope my family will not take hopeful tics and other autonomic hiccups as a sign from the eternal that I am somehow alive in any meaningful sense and desiring to continue in such a vague and dehumanized way.

Anyway, here's Johnny...

Well, naturally, I think that I think it's wonderful that we live in a country where the heads of the House, Senate and the Executive branch feel perfectly at ease using the immense power of the national government to micromanage the medical decisions of a single individual, because of course it's not like there's anything else it needs to be doing at the time. I additionally adore living in a country where a politician who doesn't know me or my spouse can decide he knows better what's in my medical interest than my spouse, and can say he doesn't care what my spouse thinks if I don't, in fact, leave detailed and notarized instructions for every specific medical incident that might occur. And obviously I am puffed up with pride whenever my national government decides the constitutionally enumerated rights of the states should be shunted aside when a state's courts come up with a decision that the leaders of the national government disagree and can make political hay with.

Yes, there's nothing that makes me feel more like my individual liberties, my system of federal government, and the sanctity of my marriage are all safe and sound than the capricious, imperial meddling of my national government and its leaders.

What he said.

Oh, hello! I didn't see you come in!

You can't really see it, but he has a small plastic elephant in his hand. For some reason, I have taken to personifying his (the elephant's) voice a la Chef on South Park.

Well hello there, little cracker!

Nicholas thinks it's the funniest thing evar. Really.

"Good Morning! The Cat has been preparing a hairball for you all morning. Here it comes."

Last week I was at the Sofitel (a rather posh French hotel downtown) teaching our marketing research seminar to a bright eyed gaggle of newly minted marketing researchers whom we hope to make into clients one day, when they have developed clout and experience and have a budget. [We don't come cheap.] Typically the faculty (me) and attendees get rooms since we start fairly early in the am and traffic in Philly is a hairball at that hour. Not for me, not now, however. I'd rather sleep at home with you honey than in a swanky resort hotel! (There's a compliment in there somewhere, be assured.)

But I learned that your wake-up call at Sofitel is actually a commercial! Something like, "Good morning, this is your wake-up call. Our cook has been baking buttery croissants all night! Start your day with one!" To which I would reply, if I were staying over and could form words with consonants in them, "Alright, Maurice, why don't you skip the USA-Today and leave a basket of those puppies outside the door instead?"

I was relating this odd fact to a friend, who told me of his as-yet unrealized invention: The Cat Yak Travel Alarm. If you sleep or have ever slept in the vicinity of cats, you will immediately recognize the value. The sound of a cat gorgling and coughing and rapidly winding through the gastrointestinal gymnastics that will result in a warm wet hairy lump somewhere nearby (NOT ON THE PILLOW, DAMN YOU) does not ease you gently into the morning. No, lemurs, it does not. You are on your feet before your eyes are open, ready to grab the offender by his armpits and fling him bodily into the hall. No snooze alarm on that one, either, because you know that even if you are successful in aborting the first THERE WILL BE OTHERS. And the expectation of a disgusting minefield of bile and hair (is that a MOUSE? did he actually kill a MOUSE somewhere and decide to throw it up IN HERE?) impels you to action. Lights on, paper towels at the ready. By the time you realize your error (WHY WOULD THE CAT COME ALL THE WAY TO SAN DIEGO TO PUKE IN MY HOTEL?) you're already awake, and that's the whole point.

I think it's a brilliant idea.

More Boo is More Gooder

Here he is from back in October. He is a ladybug. Yes, there are too boy ladybugs. They're just called that.

Just more fuel for the therapist...

What's all this, then?

A little spring cleaning, a little early, is what. I'm supposed to be writing two reports, so rather than earn money or make my clients happy I'm instead updating my blog from work which we all know is such a good idea. (and making liberal use of italics while doing it).

I had a new template all worked up with frames and whatnot, but the more I delved the more it seemed like much ado about nothing, so I settled for this ready-made template (which matched until recently the brick-red and white color scheme of my desktop quite nicely) which I have tweaked for my personal amusement. The tweaking may continue; the links list will certainly grow as I add more things. I found blogrolling to be more difficult than it was worth, and to keep my mad html skillz finely honed it's probably better for me to go in and muck around in the template code every so often.

I opted to set the comments without popping up, but rather as a separate page so it's easier to read. The links open into new windows (but if you're using a tabbed browser like Mozilla or Firefox you can just open them into new tabs).

Have fun! If anything is hinky let me know.

BOO and his big sister.

Where the hell have you been?

Contrary to current speculation, I have not been deeply embedded with the troops in Afghanistan. I don't know why everything thinks that...

There are going to be a few changes around here (young man) and I haven't had the time or the will to make them happen just yet. Some new design is on the horizon, it's not fantastic or dramatic or anything else that would justify the amount of time I've been away. Just trying to infuse a little change into things. This will include more regular baby pictures, so if you're opposed to that sort of thing, you may want to sit close to the door so you can leave without disturbing the others.

It's not every day a co-worker is called a 'vindictive bitch' on national television.

I don't know how many of you watched American Dream Derby on the Game Show Network (I didn't even know I had it as part of my basic cable plan until I looked for it) but it was a horse-racing reality show. My colleague Deanna Manfredi at MyCompanyInc.com won a seat on the show, and while she lost in the penultimate episode, she was "voted" back on by viewers and ultimately won the grand prize last week: a quarter mil and a stable of eight race horses. Pretty sweet, Deanna.

If you caught any of the show, you will know she played to win and was fairly ..um direct in pursuit of her goals. Which is to say, I don't think the moniker of "vindictive" or "bitch" was entirely undeserved (and she would be the first to agree, I think.) She looks harmless here, but if you were trying to win horses from her you would see another side.

And now, The Boo.

Speaking of monikers, I don't know how it evolved from "the cannoli" to "Boo" to "The Boo," but he hardly answers to Nicholas anymore. Here's a placeholder until I have time to regail you with tales of downward facing dog and diaper football and giggle festivus and the other thrilling chapters of Boo Development Theater that have been unfolding here at home. Your patience will be rewarded.

If you are feeling a sudden desire to eat his face, I know how you feel...

Baby, it's cold outside...

Cavity-protected, minty fresh dog puke

You can't make this stuff up. Click and laugh with me.

Even Nicholas thinks it's funny. He doesn't know that this is one of the many reasons he can't have a dog.