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Sideon's Sanctuary (16 unread)

Distraction From Writing

Posted: October 29th, 2007, 3:03pm EDT by Sideon

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YOUR DETECTIVE NAME (favorite color + favorite animal species + Esquire): Viridian Feline, Esquire

YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name + first 2 letters of your first name): Pen Ga (or) Tod Mi

SUPERHERO NAME (“The” + 2nd favorite color + favorite drink): The Scarlet Cosmo

NASCAR FAN NAME (the first names of your grandfathers/mothers): Elwood Orpha

STRIPPER NAME (your favorite scent + favorite treat): Cedar Twix

WITNESS PROTECTION NAME (mother’s & father’s middle names): Rae Don

DEBUTANTE NAME (your favorite season/holiday + favorite flower): Lammas Hyacinth

HIPPY NAME (What you ate for breakfast + your favorite plant or tree): Latte Forest Pansy

YOUR ALTERNATIVE ROCK BAND’S NAME (Shoe size + Favorite Food + Favorite Car model + s): 7 1/2 Italian Infinity M35s

YOUR ROCK BAND'S TOUR NAME (“The” + Your favorite hobby + favorite weather element + “Tour”): The Writing Thunderbolt Tour

(hat tip to Becca for the meme)
From Mark's Halloween Party

Posted: October 29th, 2007, 2:55pm EDT by Sideon

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La la la la la

Posted: October 26th, 2007, 6:43am EDT by Sideon

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Moll Flanders

Posted: October 25th, 2007, 3:22pm EDT by Sideon

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Moll Flanders is a 1722 novel by Daniel Defoe. In my History of the Brit Lit 18th Century (the LONG 18th Century - and don't ask for the formal name of the class, I forgot, I'm tired, and I'm not looking it up), we spent last week (3 hours) and this week (3 hours) going over various developments of the novel. The pace of the class is fun, the professor could talk for days without losing her voice, and the class discussions are wacky, but lively.

Last week a woman in class noted that Moll's first sexual experience was the equivalent to rape. She went on to note that women who are raped may even experience multiple orgasms. The class was shocked into silence for about 5 seconds. The professor asked if the woman would like to repeat or clarify, but the woman meant what she said. (This is the part where you wonder if I said anything. Of course I did.) I asked where, in the text, did it say anything about rape - the way the encounter was described, the female protagonist most certainly did not refuse or turn down the advances, and even narrated that she enjoyed herself. The woman was flustered and kept repeating "but I know it was rape, or why else would she end up being a prostitute" and at this point I was uncomfortable - the whole class was squirming. The professor, to her credit, reeled in the class and lectured about critical analysis and being careful to discuss those elements that were within the text, not nuances or theory that could not be tied back to or that contradict the evidence of the text.

Tonight, another student asked whether one part of the story was a moral challenge to either the writer or the reader or both, and the aforementioned woman said that the specific passage was about the need for family and love. The professor, nonplussed, turned it around and asked her where in the text would it support her assertion. The woman made a two minute (it felt like ages) impassioned plea about the woes of the world befalling all sinners who forsake love and family. I made eye contact with another student across the room, a woman who is a little older than I, and I raised an eyebrow. She grinned, raised an eyebrow then raised her hand to talk into the silence.

She turned in her seat and looked at the first woman and said, with a sweet smile, that it was poor judgment to project any societal or moral norm on a different time and place, but even worse to do so with a fictional work that very clearly was challenging readers on the very ideas of morality and social norms. She said, "I didn't see anything in the text about this woman wanting love or family. What I saw was a woman who was a slut, a prostitute, a bigamist, and a thief who overcomes all odds to do exactly what she wants to do, public opinion be damned." The other woman huffed and puffed, but she was quiet until the end of class when she stopped everyone with a very loud announcement about the upcoming anti-war gatherings and parades for Darfur.

These kinds of discussions make the insanity of work look sort of plain, dontcha think? That was my night. How about yours?
Moonflower

Posted: October 24th, 2007, 4:46pm EDT by Sideon

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Eureka! One of my first attempts with seedlings. The vine is easily over ten feet long. I was worried that the morning glory would completely take over, but the moonflower is full of surprises. Too bad the blooms are a one night bang. Morning glory during the day, moonflower at night.

Sorry about this picture - it's a tad blurry - but I wanted to show how huge the blooms are. That's Scott's hand.
A Year of Writing

Posted: October 23rd, 2007, 2:47pm EDT by Sideon

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A year ago today I started posting a series. My plan was to take a fantasy story I'd done in college (circa nineteen ninety f'n three) and rework it into something fictional and modern. So far, the series has twelve installments, and yes, there's more on the way. But first, a moment of naked honesty (except for the pants - but I'm au naturale in spirit).

Not many of my writing intentions or idealizations came to pass in any way, shape, or form. I did not write weekly installments. I thought the series would have no more than ten sections. I thought it (writing the series) would be easy. Sometimes I would write and rewrite entire chapters and shred them into serrated bits of what.the.fuck. Sometimes I was envious of other bloggers and writers who I admired for their consistency, their dedication, their Art, their fabulosity. At the height of my extremes, I learned how to wonder if I really liked writing at all. I wondered if a life-long dream was something I kept unfulfilled, kind of like that carrot on a stick just beyond reach, but once I grabbed the carrot would I still be interested? Yes, and no. I had to be willing to actively NOT write to find what, if anything, not writing meant to me. And I found out.

The realization struck me during a conversation with JulieAnn. She took my self-arguments and self-criticalities out of the equation and showed me a simple truth: I am one who writes and I have my own voice, rhythm and way of writing. I am a writer. She got me to get it.

I wrote these words to a friend today, and they remind me of where I came from, a place that I won't be calling home any more: "Though I may not be self-disciplined to the point that I write every day, I have the desire to write, I have the desire to create, and those desires are part and parcel of my being. I had been self-critical to the point of immobilization, that if I didn't have a set schedule or a specific number of words each day that I must be a horrible failure, a sham trying to fake my way by blitzing out the occasional observation or reflection."

I'm living my dream of writing. I'm not arguing with myself or tearing myself down about how often or how much I post/write. That dangling (or erect) carrot is not about writing, but about writing specific dreams into reality. This feeling is new enough that I'm not fully confident that I won't crash into a radically different perspective, but it's been a few weeks of calm, comfort and creativity. Speaking of which, I've hauled around a draft of the thirteenth installment for weeks and weeks (to Utah and back, in fact). Expect a post before Halloween.
Greatest Meme

Posted: October 22nd, 2007, 2:20pm EDT by Sideon

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From The Chronicles of Tewkesbury comes the Greatest Meme. I figured I'd follow my own lead and round off the last two memes with one more. I wanted to complete the triad.

Here are the rules: Copy the meme listed below to your blog and answer the 10 questions. At the end of the questions, add one more question of your making. Do as you will - link or no linky links.

Per Tewkes, these don't necessarily have to be the greatest of all time ever. It could be the greatest whatever at this moment in your life. What's great today, might not be tomorrow. I'm as interested in the present as I am in all time, if you will!

****

In your opinion, this is the greatest...

1. Book
2. Song
3. Movie
4. T.V. Show
5. Place to live
6. Place to visit
7. Place to eat
8. Fruit/Vegetable
9. Chocolate
10. Quality I Possess

****

1. Fun With Dick and Jane. Kidding! One book/trilogy I keep coming back to for pure story-telling and passages so seemingly simple yet thematically poetic and complex: Riddlemaster, by Patricia K. McKillip. Another greatest book is Ursula Le Guin's "A Wizard of Earthsea."

2. Right now I'm into Annie Lennox' "Dark Road" and Toyah's "Life in the Trees" and "Early Bird" by Erasure, featuring Cyndi Lauper.

3. Jim Henson's Labyrinth

4. Moonlight (but I love most shows on the sci-fi station)

5. Here in the suburbia of Concord, 30 miles east of SF, but I'd live anywhere with Scott.

6. A nude and all-gay vacation to Key West sounds kinda fun right now. (How could I pass up a link to THAT? Fine. Here and here.)

7. I crave the Thai restaurant in DC called Rice.

8. We do batches of peach or apricot butter every summer. Veggie-wise, I like sweet peas, cucumbers, beets. I can't stand raw tomatoes.

9. I'm allergic to, but I do like milk chocolate. Dark chocolate in small doses. I do not like white chocolate at all.

10. My greatest quality? SML and I had a lively conversation about this (after I tried to convince her of my humble nature), and she pointed out my "understanding acceptance of others." I do see people (now) for as they are. That life lesson was a long road.

My bonus round (stolen shamelessly from Tewkes): greatest poem? I'm partial to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot. And the one about the Man from Nantucket.
a Jake moment

Posted: October 22nd, 2007, 2:17pm EDT by Sideon

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Q & A Meme

Posted: October 22nd, 2007, 6:11am EDT by Sideon

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Here's hoping my answers measure up to Wry Catcher's questions.

1. Do you want to have children? Why/not? Do you think humans can become bona fide “grownups” without also being parents? Why?
I would love to raise a child or two or even three. Call it ironic/crazy/whatever from being an adopted child, but I would love my own child and perhaps later adopting. I know Scott and I are both very good with children. The technicalities and legalities of a woman carrying my child seems overwhelming... so I don't think about it much. Every once in a while I feel a paternal "gawd, it'd be great to have a kid" but then it fades into the knowledge that there are more than enough kids on this planet already. The world can barely handle me, let alone my offspring.

I believe that adults can be "grownups" without having children. In my opinion, parenting is a priveledge, not a right. Being a parent doesn't grant anyone more or less "growup" points.

2. What are the top 2-3 things about having been raised mormon do you wish you could permanently excise from your brain? Which do you think have benefited you the most? Why?
I don't have much in my life in the way of Mormonism, aside from family: rituals, beliefs, books, or craptastic crafts. I do have a raging hatred for the Morg's treatment of gays and lesbians and for their treatment of women as second class citizens, but I'm not interested in excising that hatred. I won't forget the many men who killed themselves because of that cult's creed in demonizing gay men and their sexuality. I'll proudly kick those (the Morg's) pricks and be damn proud of it.

3. What do you most love about your partner? What does he most love about you? How can you most quickly piss each other off? Why?
I love how Scott looks at me, how his eyes light up and he smiles. I love his kindness and compassion, and he's one of the nicest, yet devilish, people I've ever met. I love how he lets me be me, fully.

I'd say he loves my humongous... personality and being predictably unpredictable. I think we both like how we communicate, how we don't argue, how we "fit" so well together. We have very few "buttons" and have never tried to piss the other off - so far. We both tease, but we both back off if we see the other is stressed or if we've teased too hard.

4. Have you ever worked with someone who really disliked you? How did you handle that? How do you generally deal with sneaky or backstabbing people? (If you answer this with, wow, I’ve never had to deal with anyone like that, I will cry big tears…but will also be very happy for you. No pressure. ;-) )
I work with people who despise me for various reasons: born-again Bible-Thumpers (love the sinner, hate the sin, types), the inept (they hate that my job is to improve business processes through automation or exception reporting), or the simple beeyotchs (who hate everyone, not just little ole moi). There are a few sneaks and backstabbers. How I deal with them is on a limited bases, and when I do deal with them, I follow up every meeting with an email summary to them and co-workers and their boss. I also never meet one on one with someone who's lied or backstabbed - I let them know that they'll need their boss or another co-worker there for any future conversations. I'm also upfront that I can out mother-fucker any of them, no contest.

5. Aside from your relationship with your partner, what are the 2-3 things that make you the most happy in life? What can get you down the fastest? How do you bounce back?
Sounds silly to say, but laughter makes me happy. Spending quality time with friends (dinner, get-togethers, etc) makes me happy. When friends visit (hi, Julz!) or when I get to visit friends (hiya JA, Jer, E, etc!) I am happy. On a very simple level, good food, good drinks, and good music make me happy.

Violence brings me down. I can't handle violent movies or images on the television: I'm instantly shell-shocked and totally dismayed. I bounce back by seeing a comedy or changing the mental pictures - changing my own channels so I don't think/obsess (too much). A quick power nap (10-15 mins) can do it, too. Tight buns make for good bounce, too.

6. What role does humor play in your life? In your personality? Do you become more or less funny when you’re in a happy place personally?
Humor saves, placates, and energizes me. My personal style/flavor of humor is towards the sarcastic and irreverent, but I'm certainly not above (or below) physical comedy or anything bawdy. My forté tends to be the zingers or the one-liners. I think I'm pretty god.damn.funny sometimes, and I'm fine if the only person I crack up... is myself. Nothing wrong with a little self-gratification - or a lot.
13 Firsts

Posted: October 21st, 2007, 7:59am EDT by Sideon

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Thanks to SML.

1. First day of school.
My family moved from Tuscon, Arizona to Tremonton, Utah when I was five years old. The day before I was supposed to start school, my mom walked with me from the house to the school, showing me the way. My first day, I walked part way then walked home, upset and crying, because I couldn't remember how to get there. She walked with me to school. Looking back, it was a huge distance of... three blocks. I think it was the first and only time I was stressed about getting to school.

2. First kiss.
The first girl I kissed was Catherine. We were in the sixth grade. Years later when I attended her wedding reception, he mother (who looked like a bad witch from Disney) would lean into and wag her finger at me, point at the groom and say "that should have been you." No, I couldn't be a bastard to the mother of the bride, so I just smiled and nodded and patted her on the back.

The first guy I kissed was Catherine's brother, Keith.

3. First date.
My first girl-date was with Mary. I was 15, she was 16 but couldn't drive yet. My mom dropped me off at her place and we walked to a local pizza parlor. The relationship was mostly platonic, though we did get into heavy petting and my hands under her blouse and her hands down my pants while I was at her house. She was a convenient long-distance girlfriend through most of high school, long after she moved away and I didn't talk to her again.

My first boy-date was with Todd. We went to dinner, and I remember sitting across from him at the table at Olive Garden and thinking he had the most annoying laugh I'd ever heard - a mix between a muppet on steroids and a snorting pig. We dated for six months or so (and I kept his mouth busy), until I figured out that I didn't have to date the first gay guy I had met.

4. First car.
The first car I drove was a Ford Mustang. My friend Tania taught me how to drive a stick-shift in an LDS parking lot in Murray, Utah. If there's one good thing about the Mormon church, it's their super-sized (and nearly always empty) parking lots.

5. First time---
For his sake (to protect his identity), we'll call him Jay and we were both 15, and we'd gone camping. Physically, we were almost twins (to the inch), except he was dark haired. The first night, we'd gone skinny dipping (first requirement, getting naked) then spent hours talking about all the sex we'd never had (stoking the fire). Then a truth or dare series of questions for each other, culminating in two horny teenagers showing their respective arousal to the other (conflagration of lust). Then we chickened out. The next night we repeated everything and braved it through more than showing. It was an amazing summer.

6. First break up.
My first girlfriend breakup was with Mary, via the telephone (15 or 16). My first breakup with another guy was with Jay. We'd started high school, had both "fallen in love" with the same girl, and ended up in a fist-fight (stalemate) at our shared locker over her. Technically, we were fuck buddies, but I hurt for a long time over that one.

7. First 'real' job.
In my senior year in high school, I worked half the day doing data entry for a pipe and fitting distributor.

8. First time to lose a job.
If memory serves me correctly, I have never been fired or terminated, but I quit plenty.

9. First time in love.
Visually speaking, the Bay City Rollers - I would have been about seven or eight years old.

Emotionally? For what it was at the time: Jay.

10. First drink.
My friend Ryan (neighbor) and I mixed orange juice and gin in large glasses - half and half ratios. We were wretchedly sick. Funny how I can drink tequila until I'm green (and throwing up), but to this day I cannot stand the taste of gin.

11. First Sign of a Backbone.
I was gonna say I was born ass-first...

I was kicked out of primary for laughing during the opening prayer, I went home and told my mom I'd never go back. I never did.

12. First Ambition.
I wanted to write. I've wrestled that beast for thirty years, and this blog is a testament of my struggles and successes.

13. First Realization of Mortality.
When I was 13-14, I came home from school. My mom wanted me to check on Tasha, our German Shepherd, who hadn't been feeling well. I found her dead in her dog house, already stiff. My dad had to take the dog house apart to get her out. We dug a hole on the side of the house and buried her. I tried writing about her in my diary but all I could do was sit and cry and ask God "why?"
Man goes into a cocktail lounge

Posted: October 18th, 2007, 7:50am EDT by Sideon

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Man goes into a cocktail lounge and approaches a woman sitting by herself:

Man: "May I buy you a cocktail?"

Woman: "No thank you, alcohol is bad for my legs."

Man: "Sorry to hear that. Do they swell?"

Woman: "No, they spread ."
10 Reasons Why Sex is Better Than Church

Posted: October 17th, 2007, 6:43am EDT by Sideon

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Of course there are hundreds of other reasons, but here is a list of ten reasons why sex is better than church.

10. Seven days a week, night or day.
9. Unlike church, you feel better for participating.
8. No one cares about the size of your testimony.
7. All Christian churches end with the Second Coming.
6. Sex creates a level playing field - horizontal.
5. Porn has fewer textual edits and revisions.
4. No gets that Hi-Pro-Glo from church.
3. You know exactly which rod you're holding onto.
2. Bondage is optional, not obligatory.
1. You don't have to be a Prophet to scream out "Oh. My. God."

(I saw substrate's post on exmormon.org and couldn't resist...)
Double Trouble

Posted: October 14th, 2007, 1:58pm EDT by Sideon

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Playing With My Wii

Posted: October 14th, 2007, 1:24pm EDT by Sideon

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Joyful day when I get to play with my Wii. Even more joyful when you can share the Wii pleasure. It's downright sinful when you add in a bottle of wine. Or two. Whoever said adults couldn't act like/be kids again are dumb-fuck fools.

Julz and I goofed with the Wii yesterday. We started with Wii Sports and focused on Bowling, Tennis and Boxing. The Boxing was hysterical since neither of us knew what the hell we were doing, but she did score a kick-ass knock out on me. Yeah, she wailed on my ass and I cried like a little girl after I laughed my guts out. When we were doing the bowling games, the wine had kicked in so we added the non-game aspect of dramatic poses, of which mine were mostly tai chi or martial arts related; hers were just dramatic and full-bodied. We popped in the other Wii Sports game (don't ask me the name, I don't know) and found that Billiards was the most fun. We kept mixing up the buttons (trigger A versus action B) and swearing - all we missed was the element of cigarettes and leather jackets in a pool hall. And cheese fries.

We were entirely domestic today: walk dog, dog park, late breakfast, shopping, shopping, more shopping, planting 60+ bulbs (tulips, daffodils, hyacinth), drinking more wine, cooking dinner,
goofing with text messages, talking, more wine, blogging, and more Wii - we're going to tackle Marble Madness later this evening. Oops. I keep drinking Julz' wine. My wine, my bottle, my glasses... but I guess she's not good at sharing. Oh, and she thinks I'm a bum. Or a balm. Something to that effect. And she thinks her Wii is bigger than mine - AS IF - she doesn't have a Wii. And she's charmed my cat. And dog. And other cat. And I'm so glad she's here and I can't stand it that the weekend is over.
Mishmash after a little silence

Posted: October 12th, 2007, 5:22am EDT by Sideon

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I'm back in California. Dear Uncle is out of ICU and in Recovery, and next week he goes to Rehab for several weeks, then hopefully home. My aunt cried the day I left - she wanted me to miss my flight - but my work as emotional jock strap (keeping all the family nuts together, but not bouncing off each other too hard) was complete.

So why haven't I been blogging? I didn't do laundry, I didn't do anything in the yard, I didn't do email, I didn't chat/message, and I didn't blog except a very few brief comments. I was/am exhausted. Bone-deep exhausted. My one brain cell got to focus on work and immediate projects (my 20 page proposal was accepted in DRAFT format by the full cabinet!), then change gears and focus on a 17th century text for my English/lit class. Delightful reading, in a development-of-the-novel kind of way. (Rant alert: God damn repressed Victorians and middle-aged stuffy white guys have stacked the deck in the literary cannon for too long - bring on the talented, descriptive, profane, and adventurous female writers of the 17th-20th centuries. End rant. For now.)

I wrote a long post on the flight back to CA. It has to do with my own belief system and how that's changing. Suffice to say that my world view has changed in a very short period of time. Through friends, new friends and family... I'm seeing life a little different, not only in relation to mortality, but in relation to perfectionism, the voice of my inner critic, and MY way as a writer. Thank you, thank you, thank you, JA and Wanker.

This weekend Julz is in town, and we'll be talking talking and more talking (and drinking the stash of Pine Ridge and doing tarot or rune readings). Scott's en route from LA. He was checking out his dream car: 1960 Chrysler New Yorker, convertible. We'll be doing dinner tonight at a lovely Italian joint in Albany. It's raining outside, it's definitely Fall, and it's good to feel like more than one brain cell is working again. I'm still delightfully content and serene, which almost scares me, because I'm not used to this feeling at all.
A Short Respite

Posted: October 8th, 2007, 2:52am EDT by Sideon

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I'm on my uncle's pc, which is kinda weird. I haven't tried wireless from the hospital, and even if I did I'd be too distracted, hence the silence of the last few days.

My uncle was moved out of ICU yesterday. On Saturday he'd been given morphine, and it was that or a combination of drugs that gave him a psychotic episode: he was hallucinating and crying and the nurses had to sedate him. Since then he's been clear, coherent, and his color looks good. He has a mild fever, but that's peanuts next to what he's already been through.

The last few days have been filled with family, friends, and new friends: connecting and reconnecting. By all rights I should be hoarse by now. My guts hurt from all the laughing because my aunt and cousins and I share the same sense of humor, which borders on the irreverent and profane. I'll write later on real-life bloggers who I've now seen and basked in the wonder that is truly them. Who knew hearts could be so full?

I am the luckiest bastard in the world to have such love and light in my life.
Another Chinese Toy Recalled

Posted: October 4th, 2007, 5:58am EDT by Sideon

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This ass-shredding of the day, brought to you by the letters: W.O.R. and K.
The Sideon Invasion

Posted: October 3rd, 2007, 3:14pm EDT by Sideon

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An interesting couple of days. My father is doing fine, but he's rightfully more concerned about his brother/my uncle than his own radiation treatments, saying something to the effect of "well if the radiation doesn't work, they can go in and rip it (his prostate) out." Yeah, okay, Pa. I'm sure it'll be that simple. I hope it is. I got his blessing about going to Utah, but I did get the promise that he'd come out HERE as soon as he and mom (Pa is Pa, but mom is mom, not Ma) were able - he didn't even argue that I'd pay his gas and lodging - not that he would have won, anyway.

So I'm going to Utahr. My aunt was thrilled when I told her I was coming, then she started crying, and then it's fuzzy and I may have changed the subject quickly because I've been stressed and I really didn't want to hear blubbering or "oh thank you" or whatever. I'm coming. Shut.Up.

I would not be a raging #7 on the Enneagram (life is about options, options, options - if I don't have options, I'm not a happy camper) if I didn't have a few back door options available. I told my aunt and cousin that I would NOT be spending much time at the hospital, unless they wanted me in there as a patient; I'd be happy running errands, shopping, cooking, or cleaning house. I'll certainly visit, but I will not be a sentinel. (And if I'm ever in the hospital, I don't want/expect anyone to visit - give me damn good drugs and leave me the hell alone. Seriously. GOOD drugs.) I will have the chance to visit friends - and I intend to use that time well.

As has been stated in other parts of the blogosphere, hide the cute missionaries, 'cuz I'm a-comin' to that whitesome and delightsome town of Salt Lake City.
Family-Style Guilt Trips

Posted: October 1st, 2007, 6:03am EDT by Sideon

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So my uncle is in the hospital from a myriad of issues, the most pertinent being a ruptured appendix and diverticulitis and his body flooded with infection and my father (two separate people - I'm not THAT hick or inbred) went in for his first radation treatment today, and here I am deciding on not-deciding on a possible trip. To Utah. Not Texas.

Trip from here to SLC via airfare (1.5 hours) is $350.00, where I would also need to rent a car. The same trip, driving 11 hours, would run $200.00, but I'd have my own wheels. Am I petty for looking at time versus money? Housing is not an issue.

What are the issues? Family. Work. Why would I go to UT when I didn't/haven't gone to TX to see my father or my mother (who had a stroke this summer)? Granted, I didn't hear about my mom's stroke until she was home from the hospital, so I didn't get the luxury of an option on that one. With work, there's the issue of a significant project that I need to finish. Part of me would like to say "fuck it," since the prevailing administrative attitude is pretty much the same sentiment with the same level of support. Am I making sense whatsoever? No. I haven't made any decisions in this paragraph, have I?

Pardon the delayed reaction here, but what I have realized is that I REALLY hate being the last one to be told when significant/life-threatening things happen in the family. Example A: immediate family calls after the fact. Example B: oh fuck it - it is what it is - there is no example B. Not that this is all about ME, but it when I told my aunt if she needed me I could be there, to just say the word, she said "word" and she wasn't kidding. She said she "wanted me there for the love and laughter." Why can't my own immediate family say something that simple? You'll know my decision if I buy a plane ticket or load up my car for a little UT jaunt.

Other updates aside from family: grad school? Love it - will write more later. Working out? Lost 3 pounds already and muscles are toning NICE. Scott? Move over, Heaven. Stained glass? Not soldered, but will finish soon (tonight?). Dietary adventures? I tried Alaskan king crab yesterday and loved it.