My wife was sick yesterday, so I stayed home. She's still sick. I have to get medicine and go to the bank.

I have to put some stuff out at work also.

The Christmas play went well last night. Fortunately, I had some others to help get all the kids ready. Not just mine. My itty bitty lamb went down the aisle and ran back before I could get down to grab her. That's progress. Baby Jesus has a physique that looks a bit like Gollum. Did great again, though.

At the request of pr1ss, detail.

My oldest son will be an obstetrician. Why? Well, he knows what he's doing. The boy was looking at ultrasound images of ovaries when he was 2 years old and reading them better than residents. And yes, he could easily communicate at that point. He's got the test results down too. Not just catch phrases. He understands. He's been quite disappointed since he hasn't been to the OB the last couple of pregnancies. School -n- all. He used to want to be a reproductive endocrinologist, but now he just wants to be an OB. So, warning--take care what you expose your kids to. But I'd like to see him be a musician. He was matching pitch at two months old. We've had to stop him pulling out a cello at odd times lately, and he hasn't touched one in a couple of years.

I think it bears no explanation why the younger will be some type of zoologist. Just hopefully he won't identify any closer with animals than that.

As for the girls. We've got perhaps a professional athlete? Who knows. A second child is always hard to pin down. They want to copy. What she does best is to just run. Beautiful. I wouldn't doubt hair stylist failing that. It might be more probable. She loves hair.

Younger girl--mommy. That's it. She is like her mommy, in that this is all she wants.

That leaves one girl and one boy. Can't tell about them just yet. One very contrary little girl, and an angelic little boy.

Yesterday my wife decided that my son needs one of these:

( big picture of a sugar glider )

Oh, but he would love it. A creature to cuddle and carry. And it flies. It's like a tiny flying squirrel.

I don't think I'll be eating today. I just don't feel like it. I usually say this and greedily stuff food in my face at the opportunity. Last night, as usual, I wasn't hungry and didn't feel well. I fixed and ate food. Often it's the only way to get my wife to eat.

The word of the day describes me well right now--otiose.

I was nearly falling over last night from dizziness. I find now that if I stand still and close my eyes, any time, I very nearly fall over. I'm surprised I didn't plow my face into the ground.

$=bad That's all I've got to say about that. (in best Forrest Gump voice) (which is pretty good, by the way)

The kids are all in a Christmas play. (My wife and I supply the annual Baby Jesus--a new one each year! Also, a couple of sheep, a couple of angels, and a wise man.) So, one of our new friends, George Rowe, was singing O Holy Night and playing the piano. Of course I didn't know this, because I wasn't in the room. And I'd never heard him sing. I thought it was from a CD--a rather good recording at that. I'm pretty sure he was improvising on it. It was definitely his own arrangement. He can't read music, but he writes his own. I am pretty well convinced that real musical talent is genetic. This guy practiced law for a year or two in California. What a waste. Then it only took him a year to get a recording contract.

I haven't seen this part, but Mary enters the stage down the aisle riding a donkey with Baby Jesus. Now, the donkey is a shopping cart with a plywood donkey hung on each side, pulled by Joseph. I must see this. I truly must.

VoicePost 365K 1:59

(no transcription available)

What will your Funeral be like? by rashock
Username
You will die by:	Your mother warned you not to run around with scissors in your hand. You die by some freak accident. Can't really say it was pretty, your Funeral is a closed casket.
Death Date:	July 9, 2071
Number attending your funeral?	145
How much will you leave to friends and family?	$4,671,535
Created with quill18's MemeGen!

Only one person answered my 'how do you love me?' poll.

Didn't even get a "slow roasted with a dash of salt".

:(

But one was nice :)

Self Portrait: =B-)>

How I'm feeling: rejected

These are bad, and some have probably been made before, but I make them here and now:

What's the most important thing a lawyer does before a date?

Conflict checking.

_

What does a senior partner ask the secretary before giving the gift the secretary bought?

Has that been shepherdized?
_

What's a lawyer's justification for infidelity?

Diversity jurisdiction.

_

What's a lawyer's response to spouse when confronted with knowledge of infidelity?

Objection. Argumentative.

_

What's the lawyer's response to spouse when confronted with proof of infidelity?

Motion to exclude.

_

Why won't a lawyer do yardwork?

Afraid to touch fruit of the poison tree.

_

Why won't a liability defense attorney eat pastry?

Afraid to be served with a torte action.

_

Lawyer's justification for kicking his kids out?

Rule against perpetuities.

_

Why don't some lawyers go skiing?

Want to avoid a slippery slope.

_

Thank you, thank you. You'll be happy to know I won't be here all weekend.

Found the ideal professions for my sons already.

The oldest, 8, is destined to be an obstetrician. Has been since before he was 2.

The younger, 4, definitely needs to have his own animal show along the lines of Zoboomafoo. This, I hold to be inarguable.

Can't decide on the baby, though.

Sometimes I wonder if the preparation most authors put into writing is worth it. Would it come out just as well if the background were made up on the fly as it is needed to move the story? I know that many writers do extensive planning, and I wonder if it is necessary. After all, some of the very best literature goes completely unplanned. Like most of Stephen King's best, which simply spilled out of him. Of course opinions differ about the quality of his ideas and writing. Then there is Don Quixote--just spilled out. But Cervantes later wrote the second part. And it is truly awful compared to the first. It was stewed upon for years and planned.

Somehow I tend to think the real genius just spills out. I have no doubt it can spill out in short surges and be compiled and fit together into a great larger story. Editing and rewriting would never disappear. But I wonder if the planning is best done as a part of the editing process, after everything is pretty much written. When those short surges are not simply put down to be compiled later, they might lose something in the planning process.

Just a thought. And perhaps it has to do with my preferences. I do know that once I started actually writing down scene ideas and doing any planning, that's when all work on my NaNo novel came to an abrupt halt. And planning actually made me care less about the characters, which I had very quickly fallen in love with. Somehow I have trouble writing from planned material, and seem to do it better when it just comes. The bad thing is that ideally I would need to be able to write just whenever. Also, I skip around in writing sections an amazing amount in this way, which is difficult.

I already lose most of my ideas, so I can't see how this approach would hurt me. Mostly, I think I just need more practice.

Poll #215135
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: None

How do you love me?

The other night I dreamed that I was surviving by getting truly free refills and snatching ketchups and the like from right under the noses of watchful fast food employees. When they caught on, they didn't really care. End of dream.

How I'm feeling: concise

I have an incredible trick to share. It's a trick that I learned many a long year ago, and yet failed to exercise for a long time. This is no dimestore trick. This is the big one. This is the one that is transformational and wonderful.

Apathy. Apathy is a subject near and dear to my heart. When I was young, I was known for my great apathy. I uttered "I don't care" more than I care to remember, but yet less than I care to forget. But why do I say all of these wonderful things about a trait and an attitude so universally despised as apathy?

Well, there are a couple of reasons. First, most people don't understand apathy. They associate apathy with its common form, which stems from depression and self-loathing. I'm talking about the grand philosophy of Apathy. I'm also not talking about the kind of apathy that makes you get in a fight about which restaurant to eat at because nobody cares where you eat. I'm talking about the kind of apathy that makes you spout off the name of some distasteful but highly convenient spot and either forces another to choose or let's you grin while you wolf down some truly nasty food while trying not to let it touch your tongue.

Apathy tastes sweet and goes down smooth. It can make you happy in all circumstances. Good or bad, it's all the same, because you Just. Don't. Care. You don't even care if you're miserable, so you can even be happy then! And hard work? Do not underestimate the motivational powers of apathy. Apathy can help you to withstand the most grinding drudgery with a light spirit. And if not, you won't have to care anyway.

So when you're fired, lose you home and family and all that you love in one day, give a great big hearty "I don't CARE." It might just make you feel well enough to deal with it all. And if it doesn't? Who cares?!

So go out and get yourself a great big can of Apathy today!

I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl in a Japanese dungeon.

Or, that's how I woke up. It wears off quickly. I get tired. Oh, but I could be energized.

Somebody energize me!

I'm not quite dead yet.
Actually, I'm feeling much better.
I feel HAPPY!

There were other things I wanted to write today, but I've forgotten them.

I went in to eat lunch with some of the gals at work. There is never any way to keep from laughing with them. They were talking about getting a man, as usual. Mel Gibson. But one of them wondered if he was any good in bed. Another said he has a lot of kids, so he must be effective. I said, "I might not be good but I'm effective." Which of course applies to me. They suggested it as a pickup line.

I might not be good, but I'm effective. What do you think?

Then, one asked me what's with the sweater. It was another coworker's sweater, with purse underneath. So I put it on and shouldered the purse to take it to her. I looked rather like Harry on 3rd Rock. One of them said, "Somehow, that actually works." "I'm a real metrosexual."

So, I said in an audio post the other day that I really liked the movie Elf. The whole concept is just great. I thought it would suck, but it's great. Hot girl in elf costume--who could ask for anything more in a romantic comedy? (which is, by the way, how I classify this movie)

Another movie that I thought would suck but I love is The Santa Clause. Ever since seeing that one, my wife and I have dreamed about leaving it all behind for the North Pole. Seriously. I want this job.

The movie came on TV the other day. We were watching it, and of course the kids were loving it. Then my wife decided to tell my 4 year old son that I should push Santa Claus off the roof so I could be Santa. Yeah. He loved it. All I heard for the rest of the night was "Go push Santa off the roof, Daddy" with this big dumb grin. I like big dumb grins. Normally, this wouldn't bother me.

We routinely tell our children fantastic things, and some of them are not true. For example, it would be very difficult for us to find a band of Gypsies to sell them to, whereas Santa Claus can be found at least every year, if with some difficulty. Often, we fool them and sometimes do not correcting the misinformation. And I'm talking about stuff that puts the truth of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy to shame. I mean stuff on the order of this fantastic tale, which I name The Tale of Nyarlathotep and the Nine Kittens, and promote as an exceptional tale of holiday wonderment. The kids eat it up. In fact, I bet they'd be willing to eat the kittens. They also know that occasionally we pull a great big hood over their eyes, and they love it. It's good for the sense of humor.

But this thing with pushing Santa off the roof bothered me. Why? Because it teaches that mercenary violence in pursuit of happiness is okay? No, that's not it. I wouldn't mind her telling that to anyone else. But my 4 year old son is impressionable. He'll be after me to push Santa off the roof from now until Christmas!

That would be fine if I could actually do it. The only problem I have now is designing a trap for Santa that will likely off him and give me the opportunity to put on the big red suit. I'm trying not to get too absorbed in the moral and ethical considerations of this undertaking. I want the job. Seriously. It's the physics that has me baffled. But I'm thinking that if I can believe strongly enough, Santa's sleigh just might have enough juice to make it to my house this year, and I'll get my chance.

In the alternative, I'd kill for the chance to make toys with his Elves.

Adequate hydration begets excessive urination.

You know, when you have young children and pets, you think about the basic functions of life a lot. Oh, I'm sure there are people who go days and weeks without thinking about eating, drinking, sleeping, and going to the bathroom in any real way. I am not one of those people. These are vital issues that I deal with on a daily basis. For my wife, moreso.

I took the toilet off the floor twice this morning. That's how much I love poop. I just have to get right in there and make sure it has a clear path. I haven't eaten all day. I'm thinking about that right now. I didn't give the dog any water this morning. I'd better not give him too much too late. Very likely I will clean up an assortment of bodily fluids this evening. There is sickness about.

I wonder what to fix for dinner, and who will eat it. I know that I'll be doing it tonight. I'm sure I need to make more tea and kool-aid. My children love to drink tea. It's decaffeinated. I don't care whether I spelled that correctly. I wonder when people will go to sleep tonight, and if they will actually stay asleep. That would be nice.

I feel nauseous. That can't be good.

I'm waxing philosophical about the monotonies of life.

Probably, if I ran screaming through the hall, no one would notice. No, that's not what I wanted to write. If I ran NAKED through the halls, probably no one would notice. I'm just sayin'. I have no desire to scream.

I need to finish my book. I need to be interesting. I need conversation.

My best friend in high school actually compared me to Gambit more than once. Just thinking since that quiz result yesterday. I never have had a comic habit, but I've often wanted to be able to afford to start one. And it's hard to argue that X-Men isn't the place to start.

How I'm feeling: thoughtful

Bulldozer,

I love you and everything, but it's just that there are a few things that make you less than...cuddly.

First, the fidgetting. Yes, Grim Reaper, you are a puppy. And, yes, I could probably take you out and walk you around and get you really tired more often. And I would get you some great bedding, which would help over the metal floor of your crate--I'm confident you wouldn't even chew it up too badly--but then there's the second thing.

Second, Trampoline, since when did adequate hydration lead to excessive urination? You see, I know that you like to drink water. Hey, I like to drink water. I also know that your puppy bladder is immature. And I'm sure you don't like the fact that I have removed all bedding from your crate. I was hoping this might encourage you to hold it. It did seem to help, as you seem to dislike wallowing in a pool of stagnant urine. If you could just fidget and bark consistently with your need to go, it would help.

Third. And don't take this personally, Gemini. You bark. You fidget. I take you outside. You sniff around. You walk around. I tell you to hurry up and do your business. You give me a blank look. I take you back inside. You proceed to bark after you do your business. This simply has to stop. Yes, sometimes it takes a little while to get things started, and sometimes it is cold, but believe me, you want to go when you are outside.

Also, Crematorium--I know that it is perhaps not cool to leave your food dish in your crate after you are done with it. Hey, maybe I shouldn't even be feeding you in your crate--I don't know. And I appreciate your attempts at personal neatness. I really do. However, it is just uncouth to urinate in your food dish. It just is. You should bark to go out. Believe me, no one appreciates the planning and precise aim that this takes more than I. But it kind of ruins it when you subsequently fidget and flip the bowl. Which brings me back to fidgetting...

Just do these things for me, Jumbalaya, and I promise that I will attempt to remember and use your proper name.

Love,
Your adoring but currently less than affectionate owner.

P.S. Yes, Sanitorium, the children do adore you. But they would appreciate your play somewhat more if you did not knock them over in your eagerness.

P.P.S. Also, Craniotomy, your mommy would come much closer to adoring you if you would consider these things especially when daddy is gone.