Thursday, August 26, 2010
Thank You, and Go Fuck Yourself
As of 1:30 PM today, I am no longer a resident of Connecticut. I have moved on, and am leaving it all behind, including this blog. It's been a fun ride, but it's time to put it to an end. If I'm taking you with me, you'll know where to find me soon enough. If not, thank you, and go fuck yourself!
Friday, August 6, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Awesome News
Click here for some news that made me cry from laughing so hard this morning.
BTW, I've been on vacation, hence the lack of posts. I will return sometime this weekend or next week...
BTW, I've been on vacation, hence the lack of posts. I will return sometime this weekend or next week...
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Spies Unlike Us
Wait, Russia is still spying on us? And their spies look like THIS???
Where do I sign up to fight in the Cold War?
Where do I sign up to fight in the Cold War?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Comments
I'm enabling comments on this blog, mostly for Brian, who I don't talk to enough these days (totally my fault, not his).
Don't abuse this, or else I'll take it away - and if that happens expect a post about how we can't have nice things in this house.
Don't abuse this, or else I'll take it away - and if that happens expect a post about how we can't have nice things in this house.
Peanuts on your Chin
I just read an article suggesting that peanuts should be banned on airplanes. I got two paragraphs in and had to close my Web browser. Stuff like this makes me think that I'm the only rational person left in a universe that has totally gone mad.
Look, I was in elementary and high school on the 1980s, not 30 years ago. I don't remember a single person EVER having an allergic reaction to peanuts. We didn't have segregated lunch tables, or peanut free zones, and not ONE kid dropped dead of a seizure because of it.
There was no ADD back then, either. Or ADHD for that matter. Or anything that would require medicating children. When I was a kid, other kids that behaved that way were punished. Because they were acting up. For attention. Even at the ripe old age of youth I knew that these were kids with problems at home, it was poor parenting, not chemical imbalances. Nothing that couldn't be solved with a little firm parenting, some tough love, some consistency in their home lives.
I hear the argument that psychological illnesses were underdiagnosed until recently, but I'm not buying that entirely either. Especially because it doesn't explain how the human race could have suddenly developed a deathly allergy to a food product that has been consumed for hundreds of years without causing any death.
Yes, some psychological ailments (notice I don't call them illnesses) were misdiagnosed until recently - male depression, for example. But kids weren't dropping dead in droves for no apparent reason before, there's no reason to expect why they would now.
Nuts to that.
Look, I was in elementary and high school on the 1980s, not 30 years ago. I don't remember a single person EVER having an allergic reaction to peanuts. We didn't have segregated lunch tables, or peanut free zones, and not ONE kid dropped dead of a seizure because of it.
There was no ADD back then, either. Or ADHD for that matter. Or anything that would require medicating children. When I was a kid, other kids that behaved that way were punished. Because they were acting up. For attention. Even at the ripe old age of youth I knew that these were kids with problems at home, it was poor parenting, not chemical imbalances. Nothing that couldn't be solved with a little firm parenting, some tough love, some consistency in their home lives.
I hear the argument that psychological illnesses were underdiagnosed until recently, but I'm not buying that entirely either. Especially because it doesn't explain how the human race could have suddenly developed a deathly allergy to a food product that has been consumed for hundreds of years without causing any death.
Yes, some psychological ailments (notice I don't call them illnesses) were misdiagnosed until recently - male depression, for example. But kids weren't dropping dead in droves for no apparent reason before, there's no reason to expect why they would now.
Nuts to that.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Knock, knock, Neo
So there's this Mega Store in the DC area called Wegmans, which is like a grocery store, only ridiculously large. It makes Costco look like a gas station convenience store. In fact, it's not unlike the Costco from the movie Idiocracy.
I found myself there the other morning, wandering around amid piles of vegetables, looking for a block of parmesan cheese. I never did find the cheese, for those keeping score, most likely due to the fact that by the time I got to the cheese section (which was more like a giant cheese store), I was suffering from sensory overload, fighting the urge to run screaming from the place and hide under the couch.
The produce section was an epic undertaking of piles and piles of fruits and vegetables the likes of which I had never seen all at once. On display by the front door was a bin holding no less than 500 heads of garlic. Next to that was a table piled high with a vinyard's worth of grapes. Each department was the size of a city block, and as I rounded the corner into prepared foods alley (complete with several full-sized and fully-staffed bakeries and kitchens) I started to feel as though I couldn't possibly be alive and experiencing what I was seeing.
I started thinking about what it would cost to run a place like this. There were no less than 1,000 employees on staff at the time (I counted more than 20 in the bakery alone). Figure each is making about 8$ an hour, that's a staff-only operating cost of $8,000-$10,000 an hour.
An HOUR.
Nevermind the extended run of freezers and coolers, and the amount of electricity it would take to fuel such a thing.
So this thought process led me to wonder how much money they must process through the registers to pay for this. They have to be pulling in $25,000 an hour in revenue just to break even. And that's with over 50% of their capital tied up in perishable goods.
If you're still following me, this is where it starts to get weird.
Looking around at the bakery, the cheese shop, and a diary section quite literally a mile long, I tried to picture where said perishable goods could possible come from. If you figure that the average cow will generate 4-5 gallons of milk at each milking, and can be milked twice a day (these stats are from my dad, a former dairy farmer, so they MUST be right), it takes one cow to make 10 gallons of milk a day.
So to fill a dairy section a mile long, containing several hundred gallons of milk, plus cream cheese, regular cheese, ice cream, sour cream, creamer, and everything else that comes from the udder of a cow, you have to figure that there are several thousand cows working 7 days a week just to supply this ONE store.
I have travelled my fair share of this wonderful land we live in, and I have NEVER seen a single dairy farm that has more than a few hundred cows.
So that means that it would take SEVERAL cow farms at BEST just to supply this ONE store in the metro-DC area - nevermind all of the other grocery and convenience stores in the same region - nevermind all of the other grocery and convenience stores around the country.
Think about the wheat used to make the bread. The sugar cane to make the cake frosting. The coffee beans used to fill the hundreds of bags of ground coffee.
How long, do you suppose, does it take to cultivate a single head of garlic, never mind 500?
The only logical conclusion is that this is all quite impossible. There's not enough farmland left in this world to supply the ridiculously stocked food stores that we all visit on a daily basis. There's no way. Do the math yourself, I'll wait.
The only logical conclusion is that none of this is real. It takes nothing but programming and electicity to create a virtual bag of sugar, a computer-generated head of garlic, a digital pre-wrapped block of parmesan cheese.
Imagine if you will a traveller from the 1920's who wakes up wearing his funny 1920's clothes and fedora hat in the middle of a Wegman's, present day. Imagine his reaction when faced with a pile of 500 heads of garlic. Imagine how surreal this would be to him - they didn't have piles of 500 heads of garlic 80 years ago - they couldn't have.
And there was a lot more land and a lot fewer people around back then.
The only logical conclusion is that nothing is real. You might not even be real. I might not even be real.
And they program the stores to be out of certain things - like blocks of parmesan cheese - to enforce the feeling of reality. To keep us happy. To keep us from pulling the plugs out of the backs of our necks.
Think about that next time you go to Starbucks. Next time you pick up a gallon of milk. Next time you fill your car with gas.
Where are all of the consumer goods coming from? Is there really enough supply to meet the demand of 7 trillion people world wide?
If we all buy or consume a gallon of dairy products every day, that would mean that there would have to be 1 trillion cows in the world. I'll even be conservative, considering that there are little kids in Africa that don't get a glass of milk with breakfast. Or even get breakfast at all. Let's say that every person in the world consumes one gallon of dairy products every other week on average.
That would still require 75 billion cows.
But according to the International Erosion Control Association there are only about 2 billion.
That's not enough cows to supply each person in the world with one gallon of milk each YEAR.
Follow the white rabbit. Knock, knock, Neo...
I found myself there the other morning, wandering around amid piles of vegetables, looking for a block of parmesan cheese. I never did find the cheese, for those keeping score, most likely due to the fact that by the time I got to the cheese section (which was more like a giant cheese store), I was suffering from sensory overload, fighting the urge to run screaming from the place and hide under the couch.
The produce section was an epic undertaking of piles and piles of fruits and vegetables the likes of which I had never seen all at once. On display by the front door was a bin holding no less than 500 heads of garlic. Next to that was a table piled high with a vinyard's worth of grapes. Each department was the size of a city block, and as I rounded the corner into prepared foods alley (complete with several full-sized and fully-staffed bakeries and kitchens) I started to feel as though I couldn't possibly be alive and experiencing what I was seeing.
I started thinking about what it would cost to run a place like this. There were no less than 1,000 employees on staff at the time (I counted more than 20 in the bakery alone). Figure each is making about 8$ an hour, that's a staff-only operating cost of $8,000-$10,000 an hour.
An HOUR.
Nevermind the extended run of freezers and coolers, and the amount of electricity it would take to fuel such a thing.
So this thought process led me to wonder how much money they must process through the registers to pay for this. They have to be pulling in $25,000 an hour in revenue just to break even. And that's with over 50% of their capital tied up in perishable goods.
If you're still following me, this is where it starts to get weird.
Looking around at the bakery, the cheese shop, and a diary section quite literally a mile long, I tried to picture where said perishable goods could possible come from. If you figure that the average cow will generate 4-5 gallons of milk at each milking, and can be milked twice a day (these stats are from my dad, a former dairy farmer, so they MUST be right), it takes one cow to make 10 gallons of milk a day.
So to fill a dairy section a mile long, containing several hundred gallons of milk, plus cream cheese, regular cheese, ice cream, sour cream, creamer, and everything else that comes from the udder of a cow, you have to figure that there are several thousand cows working 7 days a week just to supply this ONE store.
I have travelled my fair share of this wonderful land we live in, and I have NEVER seen a single dairy farm that has more than a few hundred cows.
So that means that it would take SEVERAL cow farms at BEST just to supply this ONE store in the metro-DC area - nevermind all of the other grocery and convenience stores in the same region - nevermind all of the other grocery and convenience stores around the country.
Think about the wheat used to make the bread. The sugar cane to make the cake frosting. The coffee beans used to fill the hundreds of bags of ground coffee.
How long, do you suppose, does it take to cultivate a single head of garlic, never mind 500?
The only logical conclusion is that this is all quite impossible. There's not enough farmland left in this world to supply the ridiculously stocked food stores that we all visit on a daily basis. There's no way. Do the math yourself, I'll wait.
The only logical conclusion is that none of this is real. It takes nothing but programming and electicity to create a virtual bag of sugar, a computer-generated head of garlic, a digital pre-wrapped block of parmesan cheese.
Imagine if you will a traveller from the 1920's who wakes up wearing his funny 1920's clothes and fedora hat in the middle of a Wegman's, present day. Imagine his reaction when faced with a pile of 500 heads of garlic. Imagine how surreal this would be to him - they didn't have piles of 500 heads of garlic 80 years ago - they couldn't have.
And there was a lot more land and a lot fewer people around back then.
The only logical conclusion is that nothing is real. You might not even be real. I might not even be real.
And they program the stores to be out of certain things - like blocks of parmesan cheese - to enforce the feeling of reality. To keep us happy. To keep us from pulling the plugs out of the backs of our necks.
Think about that next time you go to Starbucks. Next time you pick up a gallon of milk. Next time you fill your car with gas.
Where are all of the consumer goods coming from? Is there really enough supply to meet the demand of 7 trillion people world wide?
If we all buy or consume a gallon of dairy products every day, that would mean that there would have to be 1 trillion cows in the world. I'll even be conservative, considering that there are little kids in Africa that don't get a glass of milk with breakfast. Or even get breakfast at all. Let's say that every person in the world consumes one gallon of dairy products every other week on average.
That would still require 75 billion cows.
But according to the International Erosion Control Association there are only about 2 billion.
That's not enough cows to supply each person in the world with one gallon of milk each YEAR.
Follow the white rabbit. Knock, knock, Neo...
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
That's the way it goes...
The thing about writing, in general, is that you either are telling the truth and start from the beginning, or you know how it ends and have to find a way to get there. Take TV show writing, for example: an actor doesn't renew a contract, and now you have your plot point - their character must be written off the show. How you get there is wide open, and depends usually on how likely the show producers are to bring that actor back in the future.
When I write, I generally pepper things with liberal amounts of truth, but I almost never know where things are going to end up when I start. Sometimes this leads me to trail off in the middle, wishing I knew what was going to happen in the story I am telling, but not really able to get there.
This is more truth, I suppose, than fiction is. The best laid plans of both mice and men always go awry, we can't control our own destiny any more than we can control other people, all we can do is to keep steering the car back to the middle of the lane when it starts to drift, which we can only do if we're planted firmly behind the wheel of our own vehicle of destiny.
So never let anyone else drive your car while you are in it.
And remember: that's the way it goes, but it goes the other way sometimes, too...
When I write, I generally pepper things with liberal amounts of truth, but I almost never know where things are going to end up when I start. Sometimes this leads me to trail off in the middle, wishing I knew what was going to happen in the story I am telling, but not really able to get there.
This is more truth, I suppose, than fiction is. The best laid plans of both mice and men always go awry, we can't control our own destiny any more than we can control other people, all we can do is to keep steering the car back to the middle of the lane when it starts to drift, which we can only do if we're planted firmly behind the wheel of our own vehicle of destiny.
So never let anyone else drive your car while you are in it.
And remember: that's the way it goes, but it goes the other way sometimes, too...
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
West Si-eeeeeede!!!
I'm off to LA tomorrow. The City of Angels. I wish it was going to be more exciting, but I'm going on business, and our office in LA is basically on airport property. So is the hotel. So I'll be in California for 2 days, but probably won't venture off airport property.
I'm thinking that doesn't count as actually being there, so after I get back, I still won't have seen California, or visited it in any significant way.
I'm flying back on the red-eye on Friday night because my boss is insane. Check that, the truth is that he has family to return to. And I just have this big old house with a "for sale" sign in front of it, and showings all day long that I have to leave for - dreary-eyed and exhausted.
But it's good. I'm good. We're all good here, now. How are you?
I'm thinking that doesn't count as actually being there, so after I get back, I still won't have seen California, or visited it in any significant way.
I'm flying back on the red-eye on Friday night because my boss is insane. Check that, the truth is that he has family to return to. And I just have this big old house with a "for sale" sign in front of it, and showings all day long that I have to leave for - dreary-eyed and exhausted.
But it's good. I'm good. We're all good here, now. How are you?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Happy Fucking New Year
We are facing a New Year in the face as if we are looking down the barrel of a loaded gun. It carries with it the bullet of Hope. Of Promise. Of Life.
But what if you've already felt all the hope you have left? What if you've endured all the promise that life has to offer and watched it walk away and never look back? What if each time this happens you lose a little more of yourself, of your lifeblood, until there is nothing left to give?
I've heard it said that it can only get better, because it can't possibly get worse. But the truth is that it CAN get worse. Much worse. And you've always seen better. Not in reality, but in hopes and dreams, always just there within your reach but impossibly slippery. Unable to be grasped.
Promise leads to Hope.
Hope leads to Disappointment.
Disappointment leads to Depression.
We bank all of our emotional money in our dreams, our hopes, our desires, and eventually always watch it all fade away into the past, recession leading to depression. We spend so much effort earning the currency that builds up our portfolio of love, life, friendship, and then for no reason known to us it pops and slips away faster than we can ever imagine. The balloon expands so rapidly, fueled by the breath of our effort, until it inevitably bursts in our face, causing pain and embarassment, leaving us red faced with nothing in front of us but the chance at a new beginning.
The opportunity to do it all over again.
But doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results each time is the mark of insanty.
Or so I'm told.
So we have no choice but to come to the realization that we need to do it differently. Save your money this time instead of investing in real estate you can't afford, racking up credit you can't pay off, making purchases of material things you don't need but think you want.
But what if you've just been doing what you think is right all this time? What if you've just been being yourself, living life how you expect it to be lived and falling short, investing in the stocks you believe are worthwhile only to find out they are not what you thought they were?
Then what? How do you change your behavior without compromising who you really are?
Maybe we have no choice but to keep doing the same thing over and over again, riding the crest of prosperity to the inevitable dearth of wealth that follows until we are finally kicked out of the stock market of life. Maybe that's what it is all about - living life the only way each of us knows how, even if we know in our hearts that our way isn't the way that works, but it's the only way we know how to live.
Life isn't riding one wave from start to finish, but it's also filled with waiting for the next wave, having faith that it will come, and when it does it will be even bigger and brighter than the last one.
And maybe that next wave never comes. Or maybe when it does we don't have the energy to paddle out to it this time.
Which is better? Which is smarter? Riding each wave, hoping it's the last one that will carry you all the way to shore without letting you crash down into the surf unmercilessly, or finally walking away from it all and realizing that this is as good as it gets? Coming to the understanding that life inbetween waves is worth nothing, it's just waiting for the next one to come along. And when that one comes and eventually crashes, you ask yourself - what was it all for?
Coming around the corner into the year 2010 I look back at the past 10 years and think of everything I've had, seeing only those things that I've lost. Families. Friends. Love. All lost. All gone, dropping from the financial spreadsheets of life, each column turning red from black.
And in the end I'm left with lots of things, but they are things I always wanted but never really needed.
Over the past 10 years I've lived life the only way I know how. And I've seen friends come, go, and come back. I've seen love come and then fade or blow up in my face like a lit bomb dropped in my lap by someone who ran away laughing and screaming. I've learned that nobody can be trusted, that love isn't worth anything if it's just felt by just one person, that even those closest to you will turn their backs when you need them the most.
Pessimistic? Sure. But also realistic.
And that's the way it goes. But it also goes the other way, too.
Or so I'm told.
But what if you've already felt all the hope you have left? What if you've endured all the promise that life has to offer and watched it walk away and never look back? What if each time this happens you lose a little more of yourself, of your lifeblood, until there is nothing left to give?
I've heard it said that it can only get better, because it can't possibly get worse. But the truth is that it CAN get worse. Much worse. And you've always seen better. Not in reality, but in hopes and dreams, always just there within your reach but impossibly slippery. Unable to be grasped.
Promise leads to Hope.
Hope leads to Disappointment.
Disappointment leads to Depression.
We bank all of our emotional money in our dreams, our hopes, our desires, and eventually always watch it all fade away into the past, recession leading to depression. We spend so much effort earning the currency that builds up our portfolio of love, life, friendship, and then for no reason known to us it pops and slips away faster than we can ever imagine. The balloon expands so rapidly, fueled by the breath of our effort, until it inevitably bursts in our face, causing pain and embarassment, leaving us red faced with nothing in front of us but the chance at a new beginning.
The opportunity to do it all over again.
But doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results each time is the mark of insanty.
Or so I'm told.
So we have no choice but to come to the realization that we need to do it differently. Save your money this time instead of investing in real estate you can't afford, racking up credit you can't pay off, making purchases of material things you don't need but think you want.
But what if you've just been doing what you think is right all this time? What if you've just been being yourself, living life how you expect it to be lived and falling short, investing in the stocks you believe are worthwhile only to find out they are not what you thought they were?
Then what? How do you change your behavior without compromising who you really are?
Maybe we have no choice but to keep doing the same thing over and over again, riding the crest of prosperity to the inevitable dearth of wealth that follows until we are finally kicked out of the stock market of life. Maybe that's what it is all about - living life the only way each of us knows how, even if we know in our hearts that our way isn't the way that works, but it's the only way we know how to live.
Life isn't riding one wave from start to finish, but it's also filled with waiting for the next wave, having faith that it will come, and when it does it will be even bigger and brighter than the last one.
And maybe that next wave never comes. Or maybe when it does we don't have the energy to paddle out to it this time.
Which is better? Which is smarter? Riding each wave, hoping it's the last one that will carry you all the way to shore without letting you crash down into the surf unmercilessly, or finally walking away from it all and realizing that this is as good as it gets? Coming to the understanding that life inbetween waves is worth nothing, it's just waiting for the next one to come along. And when that one comes and eventually crashes, you ask yourself - what was it all for?
Coming around the corner into the year 2010 I look back at the past 10 years and think of everything I've had, seeing only those things that I've lost. Families. Friends. Love. All lost. All gone, dropping from the financial spreadsheets of life, each column turning red from black.
And in the end I'm left with lots of things, but they are things I always wanted but never really needed.
Over the past 10 years I've lived life the only way I know how. And I've seen friends come, go, and come back. I've seen love come and then fade or blow up in my face like a lit bomb dropped in my lap by someone who ran away laughing and screaming. I've learned that nobody can be trusted, that love isn't worth anything if it's just felt by just one person, that even those closest to you will turn their backs when you need them the most.
Pessimistic? Sure. But also realistic.
And that's the way it goes. But it also goes the other way, too.
Or so I'm told.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Global Cooling
Fall colors, smells, and temperature; all bring back a rush of memories of things that once were, or perhaps never were. Hopes, dreams, and new beginnings like the frost settling atop dried fallen leaves. Apprehension of what lies ahead, termpered by the devout knowledge that warm sunshine and happier times follow, like they have every year before.
And what then, when those times don't come? The snow continues to fall, the ice thickens and cracks under its own weight, the sun never returns like it once did to warm the earth and bring color and smell and touch back to life. Cut grass on a warm summer night, sweat evaporating from skin as the moon cools the air; things never to again be known except in memories.
So what then, again, when those times don't come, when the realization dawns that the Ice Age is, once again, upon us? And never again in our lifetime will the hot breath of the sun touch skin, instead it will always be tempered by the cold winter air...
Look ahead, and soldier on, then, as always, for life is what we make it. It is said that there are plenty of pleasures to be found in the coldest depths of winter. One just has to know where to look, and to recognize them when they are found.
A memory, after all, is just hope focused on the past...
And what then, when those times don't come? The snow continues to fall, the ice thickens and cracks under its own weight, the sun never returns like it once did to warm the earth and bring color and smell and touch back to life. Cut grass on a warm summer night, sweat evaporating from skin as the moon cools the air; things never to again be known except in memories.
So what then, again, when those times don't come, when the realization dawns that the Ice Age is, once again, upon us? And never again in our lifetime will the hot breath of the sun touch skin, instead it will always be tempered by the cold winter air...
Look ahead, and soldier on, then, as always, for life is what we make it. It is said that there are plenty of pleasures to be found in the coldest depths of winter. One just has to know where to look, and to recognize them when they are found.
A memory, after all, is just hope focused on the past...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Halloween!
I love Halloween - the cute girl at the Dunkin Donuts drive through today was wearing a stripper school-girls outfit, complete with pig tails. WOOT!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
I Survived Fantasy Fest and all I got was this stupid hangover...
Oh man. First off, let me say that if you've seen one set of painted boobies, you've seen them all. Until a pair of 300-pound white girls come strolling down the sidewalk towards you completely buck naked and painted all up. Which begs the question: does that cost more because it uses more paint?
I have been to New Orleans for Mardis Gras, and everything I expected from that experience was trumped in spades this weekend down in Key West, and it's only the opening weekend - things don't really kick off until later in the week. We saw all sorts of things: painted boobies everywhere, a man at an outdoor Cuban bar wearing nothing but butterfly wings, dolphins frollicking in the water, a parapallegic drag queen, and a beautiful sunset over the tropical waters of the southern-most point of the US - interrupted only briefly by, you guessed it: boobies.
True story - right after I took this picture is when we saw the dolphins - they were following the pictured boat and jumping out of the water. Apparently all mammals like mammaries.
B and I spent the weekend alternating between doing nothing and all sorts of things, and it was fantastic.
He was a fantastic host, as always, and I am everymore drawn to the beautiful southern part of our country, which is where I once again feel as though I should be instead of here.
And just when I thought I couldn't drink any more, when I stopped across the street to pick up my mail after flying home I was instantly handed a sipping glass of some really good tequila. And had three. Hair of the dog, and all.
When you get back from the tropics it seems that all you can say is that Life is Good. Tomorrow I return to work, which I am actually looking forward to, as I am to the rest of my life, which despite the current weather forecast is looking good in every way.
I have been to New Orleans for Mardis Gras, and everything I expected from that experience was trumped in spades this weekend down in Key West, and it's only the opening weekend - things don't really kick off until later in the week. We saw all sorts of things: painted boobies everywhere, a man at an outdoor Cuban bar wearing nothing but butterfly wings, dolphins frollicking in the water, a parapallegic drag queen, and a beautiful sunset over the tropical waters of the southern-most point of the US - interrupted only briefly by, you guessed it: boobies.
True story - right after I took this picture is when we saw the dolphins - they were following the pictured boat and jumping out of the water. Apparently all mammals like mammaries.
B and I spent the weekend alternating between doing nothing and all sorts of things, and it was fantastic.
He was a fantastic host, as always, and I am everymore drawn to the beautiful southern part of our country, which is where I once again feel as though I should be instead of here.
And just when I thought I couldn't drink any more, when I stopped across the street to pick up my mail after flying home I was instantly handed a sipping glass of some really good tequila. And had three. Hair of the dog, and all.
When you get back from the tropics it seems that all you can say is that Life is Good. Tomorrow I return to work, which I am actually looking forward to, as I am to the rest of my life, which despite the current weather forecast is looking good in every way.
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