Today was nearly as uneventful as yesterday, but not quite. To begin, I didn’t dress up as an astronaut for Halloween. I also wasn’t a cosmonaut or astrophysicist. I also wasn’t a cowboy or a vampire. I wasn’t a ninja or a president. I wasn’t a doctor or a teenage mutant ninja turtle. I was almost Sponge Bob Square Pants but then decided to go another way. As it turns out, I was an unenrolled college student: I didn’t go to class or read any books or learn anything, and I also didn’t have a job or do anything worthwhile. Actually all those traits qualify me as a student in a large, state school. Burn.

For the third straight year, we’ve had record attendance for Halloween. Two years ago we had eight. Last year we had three. This year…zero, a number that will undoubtedly stand the test of time as unbeatable, unless the unforeseeable happens and, next year, someone knocks on our door and hands us the candy. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be completely unforeseeable: I just foresaw it. Tomorrow is November. Let the Christmas carols begin.

I'm posting during a commercial.
There's no time for a dress rehearsal.
It's over.
This poem will never be completed.
Sorry.

Normal Sunday. Church. Scrabble. One person's agonizing defeat. Another's resounding triumph. TV. Bed.

For those of you curious as to the results of my TB test, I failed. I don’t know what happened: I studied and studied, and, when it came time to take the test, I completely choked. Okay, here’s where I draw the line: tuberculosis is not a joke. It is a horrible disease that, in present day, affects the poor, imprisoned, and infirm. I can’t believe you would be so uncompassionate as to malign such a group. You are a first class jerk. And a rube. And a jerk. Jerk.

P.S. I do not have TB.

There's a townhouse for sale down the street. It looked pretty dumpy on the outside, so I thought maybe we could afford it, and I took a flier from the box out front. As it turns out, its two bedrooms and 1 and 3/4 baths must be pretty fancy (and by fancy, I mean made of gold), because otherwise, there'd be no justification for the $527,000 price tag. There's also a moderately sized house for sale down the street (3 bedrooms, 3 and 1/2 baths) for $1,500,000. I'm still keeping my eye out for a cardboard box.

There’s a special election set to be held next week, and the TV really is spouting about it: apparently, voting yes will be the end of the world; conversely, voting no will be the end of the world. Each of these outcomes, of course, is the course of action predicted by conflicting television reports. If only someone would just tell everyone what the proposition really means and let people decide for themselves: call me a purist, but I would prefer actual democracy to the deliberate deception and manipulation of an uncaring public.

Today I volunteered in Sarah’s classroom because her para-professional was out, and the district doesn’t give substitutes save for extenuating circumstances. It went rather well, taking me all of 15 minutes to make a third grader cry. In my defense, he started it. It was also interesting to see Sarah in her element and, as I stated yesterday, earning the big bucks. Here’s to upset 8-year-olds.

Someone pointed out to me that I could be collecting unemployment checks. My morality pointed out to me that I should not be collecting unemployment checks.

I took a TB test today; I didn’t study, but I think I did well. The nurse didn’t do nearly as well as I: apparently, it’s difficult to poke me with a needle in such a manner that my blood doesn’t get all over my shirt. As she knew exactly how to get the stain out, I would imagine that it wasn’t the first time such a situation had transpired…

I know you were wondering: peroxide and saline; it worked like magic.

Sarah got a $7,700 raise today. It really will be quite beneficial. This year, she will now make almost precisely double what I made last year. Or, to put it another way, she will make, in 10 months (minus 4 weeks vacation, so actually 9 months), the same amount that I made in 24 50-hour-a-week months (with no vacation; not one day). She is definitely blessed, and, by association, so am I.

Something in my life is being a real pain in the neck. Do you want to know what it is? Most likely it is my C2, or axis, vertebrae. I suppose that it could be C1 (or atlas, so named because it supports the globe that is my giant head…), but this diagnosis is unsatisfactory due to the facts that 1) I have more trouble with side to side movements than up and down (of course indicating axis, rather than atlas), and 2) C2 houses an intervertebral disk (the slipping of which is a likely source of the pain), where C1 does not. Look at me. I’m a doctor, or, at the very least, a chiropractor (though to qualify for the latter, I’ll have to pass the requisite final exam of being able to jump up and down on a patient).

Tonight Sarah and I had dinner with a friend from Grand Rapids who’d been doing business in LA. We went down to Laguna Beach and, after a small traffic jam on PCH (Pacific Coast Highway), had a good dinner at a small restaurant about two blocks from the water.

In other news, Sarah finished the triennial evaluation that had been giving her so many fits (read: causing her to have to work too much), and I finished my secret project (read: I didn’t do anything, but I wanted to be special: I’m just trying to fit in).

I read a book today. Isn’t that interesting? It isn’t? You’re right, it really isn’t. I won’t write a detailed review, but as does so much other Christian fiction, the plot went like this: a smolderingly handsome and talented man with a slightly checkered past has to solve a crime that will save humanity; he is aided by a beautiful, intelligent, and athletic Christian woman; the man works through personal issues with the help of religious parental figures (the old aunt/uncle who’s always been praying that this day would come) and comes to know God just in time to solve the crime and begin a relationship with the woman. I smell a sequel…

I saw Stevie Wonder on TV today. The event wasn’t really out of the ordinary (I’m quite sure he’s been on TV before); at least, it wasn’t until I said to Sarah, “Don’t turn it from Stevie Wonder.” She was quiet for a minute, then replied, “Why’s he wearing sunglasses inside? Is he blind?” Just as growing up in Europe would be no excuse for ignorance of the sky’s blueness, so too is it not an excuse for this…

Then again, I don't speak other languages fluently, so I guess we all have our issues.

After our weekend away, Sarah and I are back to the normal routine, sort of: Sarah has a big week because a triennial report on one of her students is due on Wednesday; I don’t really have a big week, but the fridge is bare and there are other errands needing attention. I’m sure there might be more to report later…

Okay, I’m back. Thanks for holding. Where were we? Oh yes, I was saying something of little significance, and you were reading and occasionally snickering.

Come to think of it, I’m not really sure if I’ve ever snickered. I’ve laughed. I’m reasonably sure I’ve cackled. I doubt you’d ever hear me emit a guffaw. Definitely I’ve chortled; I regularly chortle. I sometimes chuckle. I never titter or giggle. I may have roared once.

Okay, I just went to dictionary.com, and, as it turns out, I had my definitions all mixed up: I do not cackle. I often snicker (which is the same as a snigger, apparently), and definitely guffaw with regularity. I do not chortle (that involves a snort) but sometimes chuckle.

Come to think of it, you’re probably curious. Here are the definitions:

Cackle: to laugh or talk in a shrill manner
Chortle: to utter a snorting, joyful laugh or chuckle
Chuckle: to laugh quietly or to oneself
Giggle: to laugh with repeated short, spasmodic sounds
Guffaw: to utter a hearty, boisterous burst of laughter
Roar: to laugh loudly or excitedly
Snicker: to utter a partly stifled laugh
Snigger: to snicker
Titter: to laugh in a restrained, nervous way; giggle

We’re back. For those of you who don’t know, over the weekend, Sarah and I made a trip to Las Vegas to surprise my dad who was flying in (also a surprise) to visit some friends in Henderson, NV. We hit a bit of traffic on the way out, going only 80 miles in the first two hours, but it really could have been significantly worse. In any case, we arrived with plenty of time to spare before we snuck up on Dad at the airport (click on the picture at right to fully grasp his surprise).

It was good to see everyone, and we had lots of fun; though we did a little too much eating: Saturday the fault lay with the buffet at the Paris Hotel and Sunday with a great sushi restaurant. The food at the Paris was good as it was appetizing as it was authentic, save for the cheesecake, which everyone agreed was fantastic but Sarah insisted would never be served in France (You say it’s cake? Made from cheese!?!?!?!?). Everyone raved about the sushi: I thought it was tasty but not quite as rave-worthy as the others were suggesting. It was, on the other hand, the first time I’ve eaten eel.

After church on Sunday we went to Lake Las Vegas, a European-themed, man-made lakeside town surrounded by shops, condos, and a casino. Soon after, Sarah and I headed back to California. She turned up the heat and slept for the majority of the trip (something about having to work in the morning); I drove and fought off heat exhaustion. We crossed the desert in record time: I went the speed limit, and we still made it back in slightly less than 4 hours (it took 6 on the way out). The end.

I won't be in space, and I also won't be posting again until Monday (probably: on both accounts).

We'll likely be unable to post through the weekend: if this is the case, we'll resume on Monday as usual.

Today Max and I were talking about college courses. When I reminded him that I had 57 more credits than he did, he actually accused me of "majoring in coloring". I took the higher road and ignored his comment (well, I may or may not have pushed him off the sidewalk as I ignored him, but whatever). But that got me thinking about all the classes that I wish I could have taken in college, such as "Beating the Administration Before They Beat You", or "How to Ward Off Angry Parents" or "Preventing Playground Equipment Theft" or "Winning an Argument with the Photocopy Machine". The best class would have been Time Management 101, but I think they just figured that was one of life's Pass/Fail courses. And with that said, it's time to start heading off to bed.

~Sarah

Several times (at least four), I’ve written something and then successively deleted it from the entry. I’m not really sure why. Actually, I’m quite sure why, but I’m not telling. Or perhaps I’m just unsure and I am telling. I’m going to let you in on a secret, this post isn’t about anything. It’s not about nothing; that's for sure; it’s not about something; that's for not sure; it’s definitely not about everything. It really is about nothing (the not about nothing comment was a lie; or was it?). Okay, I’ve really had just about enough. There’s a show on TV about African bullfrogs that seems to be requiring my attention: they’re eating bugs, scaring away zebras, and being eaten by birds; how could I not watch?

An interesting aspect of southern California living that we’d previously (as in, previously to today) yet to experience is what is referred to as a “rolling blackout.” It seems that the 10 million people who live in southern California have left their TVs on for far, far too long; as a result, there’s not enough electricity for all. Rather than actually solve this problem with ridiculous solutions such as solar power and nuclear energy, some genius decided to simply shut off everyone’s electricity for a day. To that end, every few months each neighborhood has to go without power for about 8 hours. Today was that day for us. I am not making this up.

Rather than do something foolhardy, such as go to the beach (there is sand there: what if I got some in my shoe?), I decided to go to the library and check out some books so I could stay inside, thereby sustaining my healthy-looking pasty exterior, and read by the dim light that trickles into the living room through the earthquake-induced cracks in the wall.

As Max has been saying, I've been having some "problems" with the bureaucracy that has been ever-so-present in my life as of late. And by "problems", let's just say that I alternate between wanting to slam doors and wanting to scream. I've had to jump through so many hoops just to keep my job, I feel like a circus performer! And the ultimalte circus-master? Our friend Shwarzenegger. Hasta la vista, baby!

~Sarah

Today I ate a brownie that may or may not have tasted like pineapple (it did). The brownie traveled 2300 miles so that it might or might not end up in my stomach (it did), and inevitably in the septic system (it will).

Speaking of septic systems, an interesting point has been brought to my attention: it is quite possible (or, more precisely, impossible) that NASA or, more likely, the Russian Space Agency, planted the toddler-monkey in my apartment to make some inane attempt to persuade me to join their ranks. Let me just say, I’m on to you: not today, friends, not today.

Today Sarah and I received a package filled with items that may or may not have been stolen from our Alma Mater. The defendant denies these claims, but I maintain that reasonable doubt has not yet been reached.

In other news, Sarah had a better day today. I doubt you want to hear about how I got up, ate, watched TV, ate, checked my email, ate, watched TV, ate, cooked, ate, played basketball, showered, watched TV, ate, walked, and ate, so I won’t tell you about my day.

I don’t know how many times I can say it, but Sarah loves bureaucracy. Sometimes, she comes home, and it’s all she can talk about. I’m coming to love it as well. I mean, all I did today was play basketball; Sarah got to fill out forms and do things that she found incredibly unnecessary, all this in addition to her regular teaching duties. Woo hoo!

Today I was taking out the trash and an interesting thing happened: I saw a monkey. Don’t get me wrong, I saw a monkey, a chimpanzee, to be precise. It was walking upright in the hallway of my apartment building. This brings me to my point: if you truly believe that something happened, in your brain, it’s as if it actually did. With that said, the “chimp” turned out to be a toddler with an inner ear problem (you’ve seen how monkeys walk, without really bending their knees: it creates a toddling waddle).

I saw a cat today. It doesn’t really sound all that interesting, does it? Under normal circumstances, it isn’t. Today’s circumstances weren’t all that unusual; my magical powers of deduction tell me that the cat sighting was, indeed, uninteresting. Later, I saw another cat. The end.

Today I began the process that will eventually allow me to coach a local 8th-grade basketball team. With all the paperwork that’s necessary, you’d think I was applying for clearance to work at the Pentagon, or at least coach their basketball team (I know they must have one in there somewhere: it’s the largest office building in the world). Later, I’m going to go and be a substitute in a local basketball league, which should be fun; we’ll see.

Sarah came home early so we could spend some time together before basketball. After an early dinner, she cut the ends off literally trillions of drinking straws for a classroom project. Apparently, they’re going to build a full-scale model of the Empire State Building. They’re going to use that to drink the world’s largest glass of Kool-Aid.

Today I was so lacking in ideas that I considered plagiarism. I’m not really sure if that’s possible on a blog, but it’s the thought that counts. Wait, if that were completely true (the thought that counts part), I’d be a millionaire. No, make that a billionaire! Oh, and I have a PhD and play in the NBA. And one last thing, I’m watching, not the 13-inch TV that I used to have in my living room, but a 42 plasma screen. And I’m in my bathroom.

Sarah and I played a rousing game of scrabble today. I won’t tell you who won: it would bring wrath upon my very soul. Aside from our contest, we had a relaxing day; though, Sarah and I do have very different types of relaxing: I, for instance, lie on the couch and watch sports on TV; Sarah goes shopping. I would make some comment about these tendencies and biological evolutionary theory, but, if I was in a Neolithic society and tried to lie down all day, I would be dead, so it just doesn’t add up.

There are no posts today.

Today was filled with football games I didn't care about (can't get any of those midwestern schools way out here), weddings that I missed, cooking, shopping, and a good, old-fashioned cat fight (apparently, the neighbors' cats don't really like each other). Sarah was around somewhere as well.

It's Friday night: if you're reading this on Friday night, I'm going to have to ask you to turn your attention elsewhere. Perhaps to the grand pursuit of getting a life. This is my life, not yours. Yes, it is true that I am staring at a computer screen on Friday night, but this is not about me; it's about you. Nice attempt at changing the subject, but you can't divert my attention nearly so easily. Hey, is that a bug? I have to go.

Sarah and I are living dangerously: it's 10 PM on Friday night, and we're not in bed yet. Apparently, when the back of a movie box says 132 minutes, it is accurate. Sarah is scoffing at my term, "movie box", but now that she spied me typing about her, she is hiding in the corner, pouting and huffing but denying both.

I saw one of these, which, by the way, is the official state insect of Connecticut, while playing basketball. As I moved toward it, its alien-like form advanced in my direction as well. The closer I came, the higher it attempted to rear, as if to intimidate me, a being no less than 500 times its own size. I pondered just bouncing my basketball a little too close (if you know what I mean…) but decided against that in favor of prodding it with a stick: the prod wasn’t mean-spirited (or even curious), mind you, I just wanted the little dink to get off my court so I could play basketball. It left the playing surface, presumably for a more fitting lunar landscape, and I last saw it as it attempted to carry off my gym bag.

The managers of our apartment complex recently made the decision to “allow” occupants to have dogs. I say “allow” because it isn’t a gesture of kindness: if you want a dog, you have to put down a security deposit of $500 and then pay $50 extra a month in rent. I’m no mathematician, but that comes out to…carry the five…add the seven…and…too much money for a dog.

I played basketball today. Out of the ordinary? No. But, when I came home, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. To be frank, I looked like a hobo who’d just finished playing basketball (no offense to any of you basketball playing hobos out there: this is more of a slam on my personal appearance than on your socioeconomic status and its related, or unrelated, maladies). My hair was wet and stringy, my t-shirt and face were stained with dirt, and my head was permanently turned to the left (how I caught that glimpse in the mirror) due to a sore neck. Oh well.

For those of you (you know who you are) who doubt my last post about the sea lions in Newport Harbor, please read the articles attached to the following links.

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-sealion15sep15,0,1360162.story?collection=la-yahoostorylinks

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4929124

http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/bizarre/3358455

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-chat/1484746/posts

http://www.nbc4.tv/news/4972871/detail.html?rss=la&psp=news

There are plenty more where those came from (i.e., google). I did realize, though, that my last post had a mistake: according the the nbc4.tv link, the sailboat was not a 19-footer; it was more like a 50-footer.

My sleep schedule seems to have normalized somewhat: for the last 14 nights or so, I've gone to bed between 9 and 10 and gotten up between 6 and 7. Eight to nine hours of sleep every night, and I'm tired every day. Ahhh, the wonders of a good sleep schedule. Speaking of that, I heard today from a brain expert (via the TV) that in 1900, the average american got nine hours of sleep per night. Today, the average is less than seven hours. Later, the expert said that brain function is significantly impaired when a person gets less than seven hours of sleep. Oddly, our expert didn't make the connection and realize that the average american HAS SIGNIFICANTLY IMPAIRED BRAIN FUNCTION. That explains a lot.

Some of you may have heard about the rambunctious gang of young sea lions that has been terrorizing Newport Harbor, about a mile from where we live. Some members of the group, which can weigh up to 800 pounds (e.g., the middle one), recently sank a 19 foot sailboat (they all jumped on it at once, and it went down in seconds).

I ate two apples today. There were other things (mushrooms, rice, raisons, etc.), but the apples are particularly to be noted because I noted them. I just thought you might be curious. I wasn’t, because I was there. But you are not there. Well, you are there, but you’re not here. I’m here. You’re there. But in your case, I’m there and you are here. It doesn’t make any sense when you (or I, if you will) think of it that way, but you didn’t; I did. That doesn’t really matter, because now you’re thinking of it. In fact, I can make you think of whatever I want. Watch: polar bear. What did you think of? Exactly. I’ll do it again. Ready? Green monkey. And those don’t even exist.

Sarah just said, “I always have to be so careful of what I say right before your post; at least that’s what I feel.” I wonder why she would go and say something such as that.

Today was a standard day. I took care of some errands and then played basketball this evening; both were uneventful save for the elbow to the head that I took at the grocery store. Come to think of it, I didn’t even go to the grocery store today; I wonder when I got hit. In any case, Sarah came home early so that we could walk before I played, and she worked on lesson plans (and watched TV) until I came back. The end. Oh, yes, there was spaghetti in there somewhere.

I just watched one orangutan sneak up behind another, attempt to push him down a hill, and run away. I also saw a raccoon break into a house and steal a welcome mat. Somewhere in there, I’m quite sure those events are bursting with insightful lessons about human nature, but I’m left with some questions that I’d really like answered. 1) Why did the monkey push the other monkey (From the expression on the pushers face, I could tell that no malfeasance was intended; it was more of a prank, but why?)? 2) What happened when the pushee caught up with the pusher? 3) What does a raccoon do with a stolen welcome mat, sell it to a badger?

Yesterday, Sarah attempted to prove to the state of California that she went to college. I’d imagine she was successful. We watched a movie and ate pizza to celebrate. If it turns out she didn’t go to college, I’ll have to ask her to regurgitate the pizza, and then we’ll watch the movie in reverse.

In other news, we went to a church today where most of the parishioners were Asian (i.e., everyone but me). The themes of the sermon were interesting (if not stereotypical): obedience to God leads to acceptance, prosperity, and safety, and God wants friends (who are purposefully obedient) not slaves. The former is probably a bit of what you’d stereotypically expect; the latter is one that you would probably not.

Sarah and I went to the beach again today. It was a different beach than the last one, but it was a beach none-the-less. As we were getting ready to drive home, someone stopped and asked us for directions. Oddly, WE WERE ABLE TO GIVE THEM. Ten minutes later, it happened again, with the same result. We offically live here.

I was going to post the most amazing picture ever taken, but the picture function is down. You'll have to settle for the next best thing, a self portrait (below).

:>)

Aren't I an incredible artist.

Go away.

Sarah and I took our walk at Fashion Island (upscale, partially outdoor mall) today. We enjoyed watching the rich people buy things to make them happy. In the pet store, we enjoyed watching the puppies bite each other to make them happy. I think the puppies were happier (except for the Cavalier King Charles puppies, who all wanted out).

Tonight, we went down the road a few miles to Corona del Mar. It's our new favorite place in California.

Yesterday I made some fish,
And didn’t cook it in a dish.

I didn’t cook it in the sink
I didn’t cook it with some mink.

I made it in a frying pan.
(I’m not a woman; I’m a man).

Nothing was that supposed to mean.
Don’t tear out my manly spleen.

Anyway, I cooked and cooked,
And looked and looked.

I read my Betty Crocker book,
Still too long it took to cook.

Then, connected did the missing link.
Salmon’s always rightly pink!

Not a true story.

Apparently, Sarah has a number of meetings this week. I know this, because yesterday, when I asked her how her day went, our conversation was, verbatim, as follows. “I have 17 meetings in the next three days! I meeting the meeting when the meeting meeting! Meeting!!! Meeting??!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!” I replied, “Well, I thi…” “No! Meeting meeting meeting meeting.”, came the reply.

I won't say she sounded like the teacher in Peanuts ("Whah whanh whah, whannnh whahnn whann."), but I will say that she'll be glad when they're over.

Sarah successfully navigated her first IEP. Sometime, I’ll have to ask her what that is actually an acronym for; as of now, we’ll just say Individual Educational Plan, either that, or I Eat Peas. Yes, the latter is probably true: a teacher, some parents, and a few administrators get together for vegetable consumption. The problem is, Sarah doesn’t like peas.

Once, I wrote and wrote,
About a boat
That could not float.

Then, I wrote and wrote,
About a goat
Who had no coat.

Later, I wrote and wrote,
About a moat
With a purpose rote.

The boat didn’t float,
So it sunk in the moat
While the goat ate his coat.

And I was bored.

Nothing interesting happened today. In particular order, there was church, Ikea, del Taco, Costco. At some point, I’m sure there was something of note. Oh yes, we saw a college-ish looking kid wearing a Calvin College lacrosse shirt. The only thing odd about that is that Calvin is a small school located 2300 miles from here. He was probably about to be really late for class.

So today is October. That makes another month of successful non-astronauteering. That’s correct, I’ve taken to making up words. Now if you’ll excommunicate me, I have some things to do. I’ve already cleaned the house from top to bottom (it was actually more from side to side), so all that’s left is to watch a rented movie that earned sub-par reviews from a sub-par reviewer, which, by my calculations, should make for a good movie. Get it? Sub-par reviewer + sub-par review = good movie. Get it? Get it? I’m not sure I do.

Today on our walk, Sarah and I had an encounter with a feathered friend that we occasionally hear but do not see (it presumably lives in a house behind a tall fence). Usually our conversations, and by our, I mean those between the bird and himself, consist of a bunch of contented whistles and clicks. Today, as the bird was mindlessly amusing himself, Sarah whistled. “Hello?” was the reply. Notice I didn’t say, “Hello.” was the reply. The bird actually (and repeatedly, I might add) was asking if there was anyone out there; it was as if he heard a noise in the woods and was curious as to who was there and why they weren’t presenting themselves for a conversation. Hello? Hello? Hell-oooo?