Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
You Know How to Tell You’ve Worked Out too Hard?
It’s when your wife calls the paramedics.
See, we recently picked up an elliptical machine on Craigslist. This was to replace the recumbent stationary bike I’d been using, which had been handed down to us by Michelle’s sister; the flywheel had cracked shortly after we got it and it was noisy as Hell to ride. Anyway, I was used to just kicking back with the latest Newsweek, jamming to my iPod Shuffle and maintaining my customary 16 or 17 mph. Michelle was starting an exercise routine, though, and hated the racket; plus, she doesn’t read while working out, opting to watch TV, which would be impossible to hear.
Anyway, I’d just finished my second session on it—a standard 25-minute “no-program” program. Right at the end, during my (very short) “cool down,” I started to feel queasy. Not light-headed, just a little nauseous. I sat down on the back of the machine and was trying to slow my breathing down. And keep from throwing up as the nausea got to a more FULL-ON state. Michelle happened to be in the same room, on the computer. She kept asking if I was okay, and I was responding. Until I apparently got up, started shaking, and collapsed.
I remember thinking, briefly, that it’d be better the lie down (on the floor) as I was sitting, trying to slow my breathing/heart rate. So when I heard her calling 911, I was, all, “WTF? I’m fine . . . just had to lie down.” Apparently, I was missing the part where I slumped over into the lamp next to our bedroom doorway and Michelle tried to catch me.
The culprit was seemingly low blood sugar, which worries me as I’d eaten breakfast. But I’d also been going at it pretty hard for those 25 minutes, so I must’ve burned up all THAT sugar and any reserves stored in my lard-body. Luckily, the “instant glucose” I was given helped me narrowly escape the dreaded IV “in the truck.”
In other news, I’ll be working out and socializing and drinking and interacting with my family/Humanity much less as I’m becoming addicted to Eve Online. Did you watch Firefly/Serenity and think, “Man, how cool would that be if I could pilot my own ship and do some smuggling and blow up some space pirates?” Well, you can. I’d been obsessively surfing the official messageboards for two weeks before finally ponying up for the trial subscription and downloading the game. I spent my first hours mostly flying around one solar system feeling lost, especially considering there are, what, THOUSANDS of other systems to be explore. The graphics are top-notch, BTW.
I won’t post my character’s name because, otherwise, someone will find and destroy my n00b ass. Seriously, don’t PWN me, PvPers. ‘Cuz I’m a total fucking carebear.
Games • Weekends • (0) Comments closed • Permalink
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Unless I’m Killed by Pickled Particulates
So, some friends of ours are getting married and, during the pre-wedding planning party (yes, the bride is very organized), we found out that the reception location (her parents’ yard) was gonna need some cleaning/attention. Volunteering for cleanup duties was strongly encouraged. The first* cleanup event was Saturday. It was real work, but fun. And hot.
The highlight had to be the part where we found three full-size coolers buried beneath junk in the outdoor storage area. Coolers jam-packed with liquor and wine. As the bride’s father tells it, their older daughter was drinking all their booze so he put it all in coolers and hid them outside. Twenty years ago. And then forgot about them. That’s how I came to be in possession of some aged-in-glass-bottles quantities of Jack Daniels (1.75 liters!) and Crown Royal. I’ll be hoping this isn’t my last post ever over a tasty Crown and Ginger.
* There will inevitably be others . . . based on what’s left to be done.
Drinking • Weekends • (3) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
When Corporate “Specials” Do Not Rely on Your Dishonesty. At All.
This past weekend, we had no obligations whatsoever. No shows or band practices. No recording. No plans with friends. No parties or dinners. Nothing.
This happens about two times a year.
I can’t say we really took full advantage of our “free” time, but we did get SOME things done around the house. And visited with family. Spent time with Mia. Saturday felt like such a long day that, going to bed that night, I couldn’t believe we still had Sunday. It, seriously felt like a three-day weekend. Love me.
In other news:
- Went to the dentist yesterday. It looks like I may have a cracked tooth. They’re supposed to look at the x-rays to see if I need a crown or just a big filling and then call me with the verdict. Or they might not call me at all and just let me ride my cracked tooth out for another six months. (But if I’m gonna fix the motherfucker, I want it to be THIS year because I’ve already ponied up my annual deductible.)
- You know what’s messier and more cluttered than our house? My car. Thankfully, we’re preparing for a garage sale this weekend with friends, so we’re getting rid of some clutter. From our house (because no-one wants daily progress reports from Mia’s school or Mia’s “art projects” . . . well, besides us). Maybe I can park my car nearby and haggle it away. “No, Gramps. You can’t have my 2003 Mitsubishi Lancer for 25 cents. Sorry. I won’t go lower than a buck.”
- Do any of you REALLY spend money making altruistic/political statements. Buying a red iPod or Coach bag during that RED campaign? Only shopping at Democrat-supporting companies during the Blue Christmas? Like, when that whole Dixie Chicks thing was happening, I thought about buying their CD even though I hate country music. Well, I’m finally putting my thoughts into action. Even after Erin’s mini-rant about Gwen Steponme, I feel compelled to tell you that I bought the new Kelly Clarkson CD. Now, I realize that doesn’t sound like it qualifies on the SURFACE, but it does in the scope of artistic integrity and creativity. [edited to remove a bunch of blather] I know I’m not presenting my argument in a compelling way, especially considering the argument AGAINST me that is Avril Lavigne. Perhaps I’ll report back once I’ve listened to the CD.
- On a semi-related, conspiratorial theme (wherein the Government [through their Corporate Rulers] is controlling our thoughts and ideas [to which I’m growing more sympathetic . . . the idea and not the Government]), there’s the whole fluoride-in-the-water fear. Remember that? When we were growing up? (“We” means anyone between, say, 28 and 42.) Well, I think the argument FOR fluoridating the water is so you don’t hear your dentist say you have six cavities because the town in which you live does not put fluoride in their water and you should really do a separate fluoride treatment, every day, on your own. So, if you’re drinking only bottled water and brushing your teeth with baby tears, you should do a daily fluoride rinse. FYI.
- Yesterday, when I purchased that Kelly Clarkson CD, Best Buy was running a buy-two-get-one-free special. Apparently. At the checkout, I handed over my three CDs. During the “Do you have one of our membership/discount cards?” interrogation, I started blocking stuff out. Which is probably why I didn’t immediately realize my total (for three CDs) was just over $21. Granted two of them were $9.99. Which kind-of sucks, because the two discounted CDs I PAID for were on major labels. I’m sorry, Metric and Last Gang Records.
Music • The Media • Weekends • (2) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Testing the Limits of SPF Technology
We’re back from our beach trip. If you know me at all, either in real life or this virtual one, you know I hate being at the beach. Well, we were at the beach for something like four days and four nights. And, lemme tell you, I never want to go to the beach again . . . unless it’s exactly like that. We stayed in an amazing house with a passel of blogger-ly types, ate great food, drank the perfect amounts of alcohol (except for that one night with the grape vodka and ziti), and kept my beach exposure to a minimum. I’m not joking; the house was right ON the beach (separated by a POOL, motherfuckers), so out of the 40-some-odd hours we were there, I touched sand for about one of them. One hour.
There was lots of SUN exposure though. Between the constant pool time Mia was demanding and the fact that the sun was full-ON every day, I was really pushing that SPF 50 Coppertone Baby stuff as far as I could. And I’m happy to report, that I didn’t burn anywhere.
The flipside to all of this is that, due to the omnipresent Guitar Hero playing, I never want to hear “Sweet Child o’ Mine” or “Girlfriend” or even “Message in a Bottle” ever again.
In a related note, my wife is, as I type this, pricing PS2/Guitar Hero combos on Ebay.
Also, in true Lunchbreak fashion, we didn’t take any pictures. At all. Didn’t even bring our camera. But other people did. Well, not OUR camera . . . you get the picture.
Roadtripping • Weekends • (6) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Let’s NOT Dwell on the “Stale Bread” Symbolism
Continuing this blog’s momentum-less track record, I spent the weekend mostly away from the Internets. Which was partially due to our connection at home being intermittent, and Patricia’s warning that her host’s server was going to be down.
Mia had another one of those pesky “fever viruses” starting Saturday afternoon and lasting through Sunday, so she had to stay “home” from school yesterday. Meaning, she was at work with one of us for most of the day. Blah, blah, blah. Man, I’m so bored writing about my life. Or what I THINK, for that matter, but that won’t stop me from typing it out . . . with HTML code to make it into a bulleted list:
- We’d promised to take Mia to the lake to feed the ducks Sunday morning, in spite of the approaching rain and her fever. So, after watching the Weather Channel to help estimate the approximate arrival of the rain and giving Mia some Children’s Motrin to transform her back to her hyperactive self, we went to the lake. To feed the ducks. Or the aggressive terns that flock there, as it turned out. The threat of rain kept away about 90% of the usual early-spring lake-walking crowd, so we were really the only bread-hurling game in town. The terns were pretty insistent, so we were trying to distract them away from the nice, patient ducks by throwing ENTIRE SLICES of half-stale bread like Frisbees. I was watching a cluster of terns having a midair fight over a slice of bread when I walked into a park bench and full-on banged my shin. Hard.
- There was a replay of the latest “Grey’s Anatomy” on Saturday evening (I think). I told Michelle that they were gonna blow a chance of having me start watching their show again by NOT killing off Meredith. Which you KNEW they weren’t gonna do. Because if she AND her mom died in the same episode, they’d have to call the show “Anatomy.” And would probably be more accurate.
- After “Heroes” last night was the premier of “The Black Donnellys.” Y’know, considering it was hatched by the creative teams behind Crash and Million Dollar Baby, you couldn’t get me LESS interested in watching it. Unless the troubled Irish kids somehow formed a NASCAR team in their quest for glory.
- I’ve been so put-off about recent Oscar presentations, with all the “who’s wearing what?” bullshit. And it’s not like I’ve seen any of the movies. So I pretty much tuned out this year, although I did see Jennifer Hudson win her award. And President-Elect (2000) Al Gore presenting with Leo. From what I gather, though, the show went until some godless hour (when I would’ve been awake anyway), so I’m glad I didn’t sit through it. I guess.
- How interesting does cabaret-punk sound to you? How about sleazy cabaret-punk? I’d been skeptical that the Dresden Dolls would work out, but they’ve really won me over in the same way the Arcade Fire did. And not just because Amanda Palmer recreated this Bauhaus album cover for a magazine article. Or because the last line of their album is, “You motherfuckers you’ll sing someday.”
Boob Tube • Music • Weekends • (1) Comments closed • Permalink
Monday, January 15, 2007
The Year was 1275 . . .
Michelle’s threatening to watch the Golden Globes. Considering how far removed from what’s going on in the world of cinema as it relates to pop culture I am, I’ll probably just sit here on the laptop blogging, or playing Scrabble or Civ III. (Illustrative tidbit: Entertainment Weekly printed a list of 25 movies you have to see before the Academy Awards next month, and I’ve seen NONE of them. Not a one.)
The past six days with Mia being sick and/or out of school have been surprisingly unharrowing. Except when she was being snotty and demanding. (Yawn.)
On to the bullets!
- Hugh Laurie just gave a hilarious acceptance speech for winning best actor for House. I forgot he was a comedian.
- I’ve fulfilled my bet obligation to Patricia. The Cowboy t-shirt was purchased and worn to watch the National Championship game Monday. To sleep Tuesday. To do stuff around the house Thursday. And to play disc golf and work out on Sunday. I took some pictures, most notably this one after I worked out (of the shirt, not me). Anyway, the shirt has now been washed and will be mailed to Patricia later this week. Enjoy. You can wear it during a Cowboys game. Next season.
- Styro requested a photo of Mia’s new loft bed. I was about to take it, but the bed wasn’t made and the area around the bed was messy. And I was too lazy to straighten things up.
- I haven’t been paying that much attention to the Golden Globes, but Warren Beatty just wrapped up a 1,000-minute speech. I was really fighting off warriors from China, Babylon, and Zululand. Motherfuckers destroyed Kyoto.
- Rome got off to a great start, beginning at Julius Caesar’s bloody corpse and ending its first episode with someone carrying a disembodied head up a mountain.
- Seriously, I’m not gonna rest until there are some dead virtual Chinese warrior dudes. Okay, okay . . . I AM gonna rest. But TOMORROW, Mao will rue the fucking DAY.
- Still haven’t seen Borat yet, but Sasha Baron Cohen just gave an excellent speech that described in VIVID detail the naked wrestling scene. Including an allusion to balls resting on his chin. I guess that happened, huh?
- Michelle happened to be in the living room while “Heroes” was on the other night. “I wish I hadn’t stopped watching this now.” “. . .” “I thought it was going to be cheesy.” So, maybe Michelle will start watching it with me when the show comes back . . . ON JANUARY 22. Jesus.
- BTW, I just sent Erin this text message: “Rome is back next month, Hooker.”
- The Iraq Study Group released its report today, and Bill Kristol was quick to call it “irresponsible.” Really? More irresponsible, say, than invading another country under false pretenses with no plan on how to rebuild the country once you’ve completely fucked it up? Or provoking more bloodshed than 9/11 (of Americans alone)? Basically, just shitting the bed. Really, why should I be worried about how George W. Bush is remembered? Let’s mourn the poor Iraqis before his God-forsaken legacy.
- I’ve come to terms with the whole band-breaking-up thing . . . a little. And I’ve admitted that, when you boil it down, I’m assigning blame because I have to blame somebody. In discussing this with my friend (and former bandmate), I was chastised for having a super-secret blog (when I doubt he really reads THIS blog . . . like most of you on The Internets) that I can hide behind. So, I thought I’d post (vaguely) my feelings here . . . in the open. . . If you’re going to join a band, you can’t be overly sensitive. The combination of “strangely creative” and “boring/vanilla personality” is great. But if you’re called to carpet for something you may have done, or if you’re somewhat put off by the actions of one of your bandmates, you shouldn’t chart a course to Oblivion on your first impulse. No-one thinks any less of you until you do or say something you can’t take back. And speaking of “backs,” try not to stab anyone in theirs. (God help us if you’re accused of something even semi-horrible, because you might blow up like Radioactive Guy on “Heroes” is going to. Not calling anyone a “Hero,” either, Champ.)
- My Lefty office-neighbor has been openly curious about people’s reactions to my “F the President” bumper sticker. (This is, of course, a parody of the “W the President” stickers that I really can’t make fun of enough.) Anyway, I’ve forgotten it’s there a lot of the time because I usually don’t get much of any reaction. Then I went to visit my father (a fairly hardcore dittohead), who immediately launched into a diatribe that began with, “Al Qaeda is taking over the fucking WORLD!” and ended with an ad hominem attack on Clinton (not specified which). I rebutted with, “Perhaps the Republicans should stop selling out our country to lobbyists.” Then we called a silent truce. Yesterday, at Mia’s preschool, I was parked next to a large, white SUV I’d noticed before as having the beloved “W” sticker. The woman was loading her kid into the car as I backed passed her, and I think she noticed my sticker. I don’t think she’ll be able to look me in the face again.
- I’m currently reading Dog Days by Wonkette Emeritus Ana Marie Cox, even though she was greatly disparaged by a favorite former blogger during Pre-Thanksgiving dinner in Atlanta. Now, I’m not a huge fan of Ms. Cox per se, but I did like Wonkette quite a bit when she was there. That said, the book is enthusiastically average. And, as I’ve said many times in the past, reading something average (or worse) will do lots to inspire you to write.
- Seriously, this is what pisses me off the most about the Iraq thing: Here’s a guy of limited intellectual capacity, who wasn’t even really elected president (the first time, which puts in doubt his legitimacy in 2004, too), irrevocably fucking things up in the Middle East and shitting all over our great nation’s reputation as a benevolent, diplomatic Partner in Peace. Decades from now, historians will look back, point their fingers at the year 2000, and collectively utter, “This . . . THIS is where shit started going wrong.” You think that our country and the world would be worse off had Al Gore been elected president (or, rather had his victory recognized by the Supreme Court)? Well, guess AGAIN, Captain Neocon! Your fearless leader will go down in history as worse than Nixon . . . even worse than the worst president you can think of (i.e., Jimmy Carter).
- Monday is Michelle’s birthday. Saturday is her office’s Christmas dinner. And Sunday we’re going to brunch with family and dinner with friends. So there will be three dinners in a row at above-average Tallahassee eateries. Nice restaurants, even. I’d expect some kind of fun review/comparison-related post if I were you, The Internets. Pictures, too.
Okay, I’m bored. And I need to upload some pictures now. Best to you all, the Internets.
And FUCK China.
Boob Tube • Weekends • (2) Comments closed • Permalink
Monday, January 01, 2007
Her Little Brother is, All, “Grrrrr, Dinosaur.”
Last year ended with me being preemptively disinvited from Ms. Jazz Hand’s hypothetical game night because of my fascist, eye-roll-inspiring, and somewhat arbitrary rule-enforcement during The 80’s Game. Which (surprise!) I was losing most of the time. Hours before that, there was also a moment where I was standing at the Publix checkout with over $90 in groceries, holding my breath as I swiped the debit card. Someone else’s debit card.
This year started out great. Our house, even after having several people over, was still pretty much clean (a dozen or so wine/champagne glasses, plus some serving dishes, on the counter waiting to be hand-washed). Having a mocha (damn the caffeine!) for a second day in a row. Playing disc golf with Mia, who wore rubber boots because it had rained a lot, and was intent on splashing in muddy puddles like Peppa Pig.
I have a feeling that 2007 is gonna kick the holy SHIT out of 2006.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
It’s Not a Party Without the Cheez-It Spray.
What else can I say except I’ll try harder next year, right? Let’s pretend it’s a resolution . . . of which I’m limiting myself to three.
Christmas wasn’t very notable. Our real joy would be pretty generic for you, the Internets. I’ve been to Target at least four times in the past week to spend gift cards; I still have over $100 left, which I’m going to save until they put out some “new” stuff, because the dregs ain’t so appealing.
And because it’s hard to do anything away from home for New Year’s with Mia, we’ve defaulted to becoming the “party place.” I’ve been cleaning most of my waking hours today. As I’ll be using one of my three resolutions to Maintain Cleanliness, I’m hoping the cleaning won’t go to waste. We’ll see. (If you’re keeping count, I have one resolution left. I think it’s reserved for poetry.) Anyway, there will be perhaps a dozen of our closest real-world friends here tonight. Wish us luck.
Hope your New Year starts out right, the Internets.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
The Duality of Man
Dude, I’m a Loser!
-- We were the first to leave the office Christmas party Friday night.
-- For those of us keeping score (that’s just me and you), the Steelers have to win out and the Cowboys have to lose out. Otherwise, I’ll be buying a Cowboys shirt for some humiliating photographic documentation. And then sending the shirt to you (Patricia). As we discussed on IM, there’s a crack whore involved somehow. Hope you cherish the shirt!
-- End-of-the-year deadlines at work are shaping up to be a week and a half of straight R-A-P-E.* With a break for Christmas.
Yay! I’m a Winner!
-- At the office Christmas party, I won the centerpiece at our table playing Rock, Paper, Scissors.** The centerpiece included two bottles of wine and a box of crackers. And a bunch of shiny, plastic ornaments.
-- We’ve set some Holiday-shopping-related records this year, as we’re mostly done with our shopping and WON’T be scrambling for last-minute gifts on Christmas Eve.
-- We sent out 15 cards this year (usually we buy a box of 18 and send out, like, three).
* Y’know . . . figuratively.
** We’d actually agreed to split the centerpiece, but played for it anyway. And I won . . . even when it was extended to “best of three.”
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
I Told You So!
Yeah, this marks a week since that last post. Or, last two posts. I’ve been trying to mentally counterbalance my motivation against my “hope” to post every day against my fear of posting trivial bullshit that I’m not even interested in reading. So . . . it’s a Mexican Standoff of mental counterbalancing.
Anyway, the past several days, I’ve run into things I could have made a short post about, but didn’t. You know what that means: The Bulleted List of Belated Reflection® (
with bonus Fun Footnotes)!
Misanthropy • Politics • The Bad Citizen • Weekends • (3) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I know Thanksgiving was almost a week ago. Nothing much to report: We ate the standard fare, and I fell asleep in front of a football game in between servings of pie . . . end of story.
However, rather than spend Black Friday in the stores or (God forbid!) in a fucking MALL, we went to the beach. Sure, it’s almost winter (even in Florida), but I’d argue that’s the best time to go to the beach. Seriously, it was breezy and cool in the waning afternoon . . . I don’t think I’ve spent a more pleasant couple hours on the sand. Mia was playing and looking for shells. It was
great pretty good.
Yesterday, I officially finished off the leftovers from the weekend. Sunday I had a turkey-and-stuffing sandwich for lunch and leftover chicken from Thanksgiving night for dinner. Monday and yesterday, I brought lunchboxes to work . . . pizza boxes leftover from the beach. (I had to write “Scott’s lunch” on them, because unmarked pizza, cake, and/or pastries are usually fair game for pilferers.) Oh, and for dinner Monday, I had wings leftover from Saturday. We seem to have avoided any serious food-poisoning.
Roadtripping • Weekends • (1) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Day Four: Motivational
Y’see, I’d wanted to write about this thing that happened with my job, but we’re smarter than that (and, also, the situation came to an anticlimactic conclusion). And then I’d wanted to write about this book I finished
reading skimming and how the whole thing seems like a self-congratulatory, calculated publicity stab (no, it wasn’t OJ’s new book about how things COULD have gone had he actually killed his estranged wife and her friend). And then I’d wanted to write about our going to Atlanta this weekend—how it’s not a Meetup, really, but we’ll get to see a handful of our bloggy friends for a few hours drinks (okay, LOTS of drinks). And THEN I felt like I should mention that I’m, inexplicably, LOSING to Patricia in our Steelers vs. Cowboys bet on which team would do better this season (two words, ‘Boys: Start Bledsoe).
Mostly, though, I just felt I should write. Just write.
Drinking • Roadtripping • Sports • The Media • Weekends • (2) Comments closed • Permalink
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Who’s Ever Heard of Unwanted Alcohol, Anyway?
When I wasn’t trying to find a place to leave two unwanted bottles of Michelob Wheat over the weekend, we were at the Fair.
Now we like to make fun of the Fair, but it’s the only “amusement park” lots of kids get. Thankfully, not our kid. Because I think we can all agree that “carny” is synonymous with “illegitimate kids in at least 10 different states.”
Ah, but what fun!
Click here for a handful of other shots.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Shifting Around the Leather
My marriage reached an important milestone this weekend: It was the first time we’ve thought about rearranging the living room, and actually purchased new furniture for the event, and then backed away from our plans. And THEN actually returned the furniture. I know, shocking.
Michelle has quite the reputation for rearranging the house and/or painting and redecorating. The current arrangement began a few summers ago when we refinanced our house and bought a set of (cheap) leather furniture (on Ebay)—a couch, a loveseat, a lounge, a chair, and an ottoman. Archie killed the chair (with his urine) last year. Because it was way more furniture than we needed in one sitting area, the lounge found a place in the corner and was almost entirely unused (even by Archie).
Recently, Mr. ADD mentioned in passing that we should rearrange our living room to have the T.V. in the corner (where the lounge was). And I started thinking about it. Then Michelle started thinking about it. Sunday, she picked up an entertainment center and, that night, we started planning the new set up. In the end, we decided to keep the entertainment center we have because, seriously, we’d need multiple units to replace it, and it’s in the only place it can be. But we did rearrange the sitting furniture to open up the room some more, and now the lounge is out where people can sit in it.
Because it’s September, I’ve dubbed it the “Football Chair.”
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Warning: World’s Largest Aquarium has a Strict No-Refund Policy
So I think I have a full-on cold now, but I still blame the Allergens of Atlanta. I almost never (knockonwood) have allergic reactions, but after a day in the smoggy and toxic Northern Georgia air, I was plagued with post-nasal dripping and then all manner of cold symptoms. Maybe it’s a cold, then. In September. I didn’t get a cold this bad all last winter, so perhaps we’re making up for something and/or my body’s getting the ol’ immune system ready for this winter. Which I kindof appreciate. Except that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in several nights now. It’s at that stage now where I wake up feeling like total and utter shit and then gradually feel more human as the day goes on and then I slip into bed thinking that the worst is over . . . only to wake up feeling like shit all over again. This morning around 4:30 a.m., I was convinced I was gonna suffocate myself with stuffiness, or drown in my own phlegm. Like, suddenly, I’d been transformed into a guy with end-stage Cystic Fibrosis who was five years beyond his life expectancy, lungs filling up that much more quickly.
The four-day weekend jaunt to Atlanta was only slightly more adventurous than usual, as we took Mia to the World’s Largest Aquarium. This could’ve been a really neat thing, but when she wasn’t freaking out (for the second time in two weeks) at a 3-D movie, she was dragging us from exhibit to exhibit so quickly, we were done in an hour and a half. Which is about half as long as it’s supposed to take. Sure, lots of the exhibits are of the “oh-look-FISH . . . AGAIN” variety, but I could’ve watched the whale sharks for a while longer. And the sea lions. And the spooky, hovering piranha. But Mia’s all, “I wanna go somewhere else!” Or “I wanna slide down the whale, daddy!” Seriously, I think she had a lot more fun walking around thrift stores or playing at CW’s house during the first half of the Georgia Tech / Notre Dame game.
Roadtripping • Weekends • (5) Comments closed • Permalink