If you could see me right now...

...I'm pretty certain you'd be mildly uncomfortable. I just ran, so I'm sitting here in silver running boxer-briefs (shiny!), gym socks and some sweet Asics Kayano XI sneakers. I'm also covered in sweat. Like seriously. I don't stink, however. At least I don't think so.

When I got home from work today, I weight 173.6 pounds! I haven't seen that weight for years and years.

The wife and kids have gone to the in-laws, a few days before our big trip to Montauk. I'll be joining them on Saturday. I'm home alone. They called to say goodnight and it was painfully cute.

I think I'll get crazy and watch the Daily Show before I go to bed.

Who loves you, oh, internet reader? I do. Come here and give us a hug. Don't be shy.

[Adult] Correction from my wife.

"Actually, honey, the way it went was this:

You: D. is having a bachelor party. In Montreal.
Me: You should go. It would be fun.
You: What am I going to do? I can't drink.
Me: You can touch the stripper's boobies.
You: Really??
Me: But you can't rub your dick between them.
You: Okay!!"

[Adult] I asked my wife about a bachelor party.

Check this:

I got invited to a bachelor party. In Montreal. I asked my wife what she thought about me going. She said:

"You can go, and you can touch the stripper's boobies."

Then she said:

"But you can NOT put your dick between them."

Needless to say, I was utterly stunned.

Big technology... for I Spy.

I've got a behemoth Mac at home. Dual 2.3 Ghz G5s, 2.5 Gigs of Memory, a Terabyte of drive space, multiple burners, and twin Dell 19" monitors Flat Panel Monitors (Yes, I know) to make the desktop humongous.

So why am I writing this on a 12" iBook? Because my son wants to play on Cartoon Network on the PC, and my daughter wants to play I Spy on the Mac.

So I'm doing marketing work that is much easier on the dual-monitor system here, on this 12" screen.

It's funny.

At some point, I'll have to do the Vanity Geek thing and do a little technology rundown of my home office.

Peace out, babycakes.

Scary massage comment.

So, I went to my favorite massage lady after hurting my shoulder, and it not getting better. We were talking about my new nutritionist hippie lady, and it turns the person who runs the nutrition/yoga program is a friend of the massage therapist.

Anyway. I mentioned that I had had pneumonia once and bronchitis three times over the last year… and that my psoriasis had spiked recently.

She said: “That’s interesting. You know Chinese medicine dicates that lung problems express themselves in the skin, and the lungs are tied to a specific emotion: grief.”

What fascinates me about this is that my lung problems started up somewhat concurrently with the seriously bad craziness with my parents. I can’t help but wonder if the results of his last episode of borderline behavior (police involvement, their moving without telling me, etc), have left me a bit fucked up, in terms of the slow realization that, in spite of how much damage they did to my wife and life, I’m incredibly, incredibly sad that I may not see them again.

In over my head?

Tomorrow, I’m teaching a one-on-one course to someone I’ve never met. Not only that, I’ve never taught this particular class before. Not only that, but the curriculum itself was only written yesterday. Not only that, but I’m a little freaking nervous. It’s the wife of the VP of a real estate firm who’s husband wants her to learn computers.

While I think I’m wholly competent to do it, I’m just a little nervous. It's a good course, it's just being field tested rather suddenly.

Moral compass.

I have come to realize that my eldest son has a better moral compass than I do. Or at the very least, I ascribe to him a lesser degree of behavioral self-regulation than he really has. I’ve found, recently, that when I think he’s behaving badly, he’s actually often not: he’s reacting to other’s behavior that I haven’t witnessed.

I need to wield that judgment stick a little more carefully.

Gay vague.

The New York Times had an awesome article. It describes how it's getting harder and harder to tell who is gay and who is not... at least in New York. There are a bunch of reasons for this... but one of the main ones is:

Who gives a shit?

After all, it seems the only folks who are virulently anti-gay are those who are, well, gay and in denial.

Rock on.

Air hockey heaven and sugar hell.

Quitting sugar gives me urges a lot like quitting nicotine did in 2000. Frankly, I'm a little suprised at this. At my oldests' birthday party (which was today), I was hit with an unbelievable urge for a piece of the ice cream cake. I actually decided to HAVE it. But then I didn't. WTF?

Went for my first over-10k run since this latest bout of brochitis. It felt pretty good, but my left lung is clearly working better than my right. It feel so /tight/. I did 11k, and then got ready for the party. July 10 is my next half-marathon, so I've got to get cookin.

Best party moment: my daughter climbing the rock wall. She's five, she's brave, and and she climbed higher than most of the boys. And when she let go, she kicked off the wall, just like a pro. I played Air Hockey with her, too... she's so intense and joyful and focused it just makes me burst with love to watch her.

My oldest was clearly in his element. I think he had a blast. We spent a lot of time together today... just the two of us. It's amazing how wonderfully we get along when it's just the two of us. We sat at the counter in the diner, and he said to me: "When we're alone, I like being with you more than anyone." That's a VERY complex statement, when you think about it.

Okay. My kids need help setting up their new toys. Ah, birthday season!

Windows XP Sucks Camel Ass.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

You are unprotected from three new threats. You are now protected from all rapidly spreading threats. HELP MAKE WORD BETTER. Outlook.exe has crashed, send error report? eAccess Violation. Rules created for program "iexplorer.exe." Dell Quicket has disabled your network card. Wireless network unavailable.

Oh. My. God.

People out there. If I ever claim to be going Windows again, please stop me.

This is being written on an iBook. Unix. And it's smooth as silk.

Dell Financial Services: Satan’s Minions?

Dell Financial Services has been calling my office for over a year, trying to collect on money apparently owed to them by a company that used to have my office’s phone number. For 11 months, I was civil. I would politely tell them that we are not “Transmedia” and that they probably used to have our phone number. At month 11, I asked them to stop calling.

They said “No.”

Seriously. The guy said “If you don’t have a number for them, I’m just going to keep calling you.”

So I decided to stop being civil. The next time Dell called, I pretended to be insane. They stayed on the phone for me for ten minutes. At one point, they asked me my name. I said “My new name is Michael Dell. And I am strong.” They said “What name did your MOTHER and FATHER give you.”

I started weeping uncontrollably and screaming “WHY? WHY? DID YOU HAVE TO BRING THEM UP?” Then I whispered “They locked me up, you know. They locked me up in a closet.” Eventually, they hung up. O

Once, I recognized their number on caller ID, and I answered the phone “Dell Financial Services: GIVE ME YOUR MONEY.” .

So yesterday, one of my employees actually got a supervisor’s number. And she was a true cranky-head. But she also agreed to remove any “of the numbers she had access to” from the call list.

We’ll see what happens.

Caffeine withdrawal = belief in a soul?

Thanks to Kim the Health Lady, I have a pretty whomping level of caffeine withdrawal. I’m down from my morning routine of 1/5 cups on waking and a Venti Redeye from Starbucks at 7:30am, to a cup of green tea on waking (after the 32ounces of lemon water, fo course) followed by another cup of green tea around 7:30. That’s about a 85 – 90% reduction in caffeine.

The center of my brain is working perfectly. Or rather, the place in my head where I hear my own thoughts is functioning at full speed. But when I try to express these things to the people around me, something gets lost in the process. It’s like there’s an enforced distance between me internally, me externally, and whoever I’m trying to talk to.

Is this a vastly reduced version of what it’s like for Alzheimer’s patients? I always thought of it as a crumbling of consciousness…. But maybe it’s more of a Pulling Back.

Hippie nutritionist yoga lady, part I.

So I went to see my nutritionist/yoga/holistic healer person for my first appointment. Her name is Kimberly. She taught me some different breathing excercises, gave me a short class on foods, walked on my back, and...

...we agreed that I would immediately quit coffee and refined sugar.

So today, for the first time in YEARS, I've had green tea only. And not that much, either. It's been pretty interesting. I got all hazed out from not having my traditional 300mg of caffeine in the morning (Green tea has 26mg/tea bag, as opposed to my wake-up cup and half + Starbucks redeye I have before 7:30am), and my guess is that I'm going to go to sleep on time tonight.

But other than that, I'm pretty okay. Just a little slow.

Oh: I had my pulmonary function tests done today. All the numbers were green except two. That's a good thing, I understand.

Waiting for Yonah.

Well, the moment I heard Apple was switching to Intel, I eBayed my PowerBook and am sticking with this here PC until they come out. I figured I could get WAY more for it now than I could a year from now.

I'm was thinking about doing that with my G5, but considering that I use Logic, Final Cut, and Motion... I just don't think a desktop PC is going to cut it for me.

Also, the Yonah-driven PowerBooks should be out the door come early 2006. I can use this here Dell for that long. Mmmm.... dual-core mobile chips...

God, I'm pathetic.

It's not like sex, but...

Thank goodness the big macrobiotic switchover doesn't start until Tuesday.

Yesterday we held a birthday party for my youngest. Part of fiesta involved a little "decorate your own cupcake." There were lots of leftovers.

Now, I'm sitting in my basement office, dipping mini-pretzels into chocolate icing.

I've heard women say about various things: "Oh, it's better than sex." To me, NOTHING is better than sex. However, this IS akin to a really excellent makeout session.

My next Big Thing.

I’ve made a lot of changes over the last five years. I quit smoking. I quit drinking. I became a distance runner. I eat a lot better. I spend a significant amount of time trying into improve my parenting, husbandhood, company, etc…

…so why the fuck am I sick all the time?

In the last year and a half, I’ve bronchitis three times and pneumonia once. I’ve been knocked flat on my ass repeatedly. I mean, I NEVER felt this sick when I was smoking two packs a day and drinking too much for my own good. And asthsma? Who the fuck develops asthma in their mid-to-late 30’s??? AAAAAAAH!

That’s what I get for being healthy. Or so joked a friend of mine.

So I’ve decided this: Something is wrong. Is it 8-year-old dorito’s stuck somewhere in my small intestine? Damage to my lungs that has compromised my immune system? Has my liver not recovered from the non-stop assault it underwent in years past?

I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.

Enter Jena Wellness center, of New York City. I heard about them online, and decided to give them a shot. Supposedly, I’ve entered into a six-month agreement to do a thorough detoxification (not from drugs or alcohol, since I don’t do those, but of toxins in general), learn how to cook super-healthy meals NYC style (read: 20 minutes or less), learn basic yoga (how Maggie laughed at that one: she’s been asking me to do this for years!) and a whole bunch of other super-duper healing things.

Am I cynical? Hell yes. Am I absolutely willing to embarrass myself silly doing precisely what they tell me to do, to become healthier?

Hell, YES.

Talk about a failed experiment. Yeesh.

Remember when I tried to give up auto-erotica on May 18th? Well, I figured, "hell, I'm not giving up SEX..." But then Maggie got sick, and our normally frequent rate of marital union dropped off, and, well, within two weeks I was a wreck. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I was physically uncomfortable, could barely concentrate, and... and...

DAMN YOU, NEW YORK CITY WOMEN IN HOT WEATHER.

Or perhaps I should say "Thank you."

Anyway. That's totally done. I'm not going to try that one again. Ever. I'll stick with not drinking or smoking.

Ass-Face, Stalkers, and Bleu Cheese Burgers

For no good reason, I feel a little odd about reading this blog I came across a while back and have come to really like. It's called Tiny Coconut. My feelings about it raise some genernal issues about this whole blogging thing... the voyeuristic nature, the strangely personal window into a total stranger's life...

I like Tiny Coconut because it's very well written from several perspectives: stylistic, self-expression, and content. I can relate to some of it. And most importantly, I like it because I feel like I could hang with the author. That's unusual, in both real life and the blogosphere.

It's probably clear to the author that I read her work once a week or so. I comment fairly often. She's even referred so my comments in one of her posts. My fear, then, is that she'll think I'm some kind of ass-face, a stalker, or an ass-faced stalker.

Talk about esteem issues. Sheesh.

Anyway, we're making Bleu Cheese Burgers tonight. Rock ON.

Haiku Apology

seven five seven?
I wrote while playing Halo
five seven five, duh.

Halo Haiku

Halo against my oldest
once was so easy
now I must fight to survive.

Like mother, like daughter.

My daughter is driving her Mom a little batty.

The boys...
The boys listen.
The boys STOP when you say stop.
The boys will back off.

Not my daughter. She just pushes and pushes... and when the hammer comes down (meaning, a time out in her room), she just cries and screams and weeps and... it's just infuriating and heartbreaking at the same time.

Apparently, Maggie was quite similar when she was a little girl.

Maggie is actually going out tonight just to get a break. She hates going out alone.