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oh, and, for the record, i have a huge penis


Long day at work. Keaton was still asleep when I left for work, and napping when I came home for lunch, so I didn’t even get to see her until I got home at 6pm, and only then for a couple hours. I had a terrible dream about her last night. I dreamed that, all of the sudden, I couldn’t find her. I couldn’t find her, Sharaun couldn’t find her, she was just gone – the feeling was unbearable. Sharaun woke me up, knowing the telltale whimpering which means I’m having a bad dream. “David,” she said, “I think you’re having a bad dream.” “I am,” I mumble, “I can’t find Keaton.” It was one of those dreams where, upon waking in the morning, you still feel the dream… I still felt the loss, fear, panic. I think I know what caused it: about an hour after I put her to bed last night, she woke up and let out a single cry. She does that sometimes, for no reason. Anyway, I think that’s what inspired the dream. Scary.

Well folks, the wait is over. Tonight, I posted the first new batch of photos to Keaton’s gallery since waaaayyy back at Christmas. No, we didn’t get our new camera, Sharaun just had the wherewithal to ask some friends if we could borrow theirs in the meantime. So, without making you wait any longer – here they are: Keaton’s month eleven photos.

The other day, Sharaun struck up an interesting conversation with me as I was undressing to get into the shower. It went something like this:

Her (a bit timid): Hey Babe?

Me: Yeah?

Her: Y’know… I’ve been seeing…

Me: Huh?

Her: I mean, I’ve been seeing a lot of wieners lately.

Me: What?

Her: You know, wieners. I’ve been seeing a lot lately, on the internet. Not intentionally, but on those gossip websites.

Me: Uh-huh.

Her: I mean, before you, I’d never seen a wiener before. And these guys… their wieners…

Me: What about them?

Her: They seem pretty big, I mean, flaccid… they seem pretty big… bigger than yours.

Me (a bit defensive): What? You mean like those cheesy naked playing card dudes? Did you see them on that one gay guy’s website? Those cheesy gay flaccid guy photos are all fluffed up. They take those photos during the “softening” process… it’s all exaggerated that way.

Her: No, these weren’t those kind… these were like, from guys with naked roles in movies, or in plays. Someone in a play isn’t getting “fluffed” as they walk around for an entire act.

Me (a bit defeated): No, no they aren’t. Hmmm… that’s distressing. Maybe you should stop looking at other guys’ wieners.

Her: I mean, yours is fine and all, when it’s time for business. I’m just saying…

Me: Stop looking at my wiener.

Her: I mean, it’s plenty big when it needs to be big, I guess it’s just also small when it needs to be small.

Me: Well, I think it’s awesome… and so did plenty of other girls, and it seemed to work OK when I built Keaton.

Her: I know, I love it, I’m just sayin…

Me: Stop looking at my wiener!

Is that totally messed up, or what?

I’d been kicking that story around for a few days, and felt the embarrassment was worth the humor. I guess, since I’m married and able to make babies (not to mention still pull hotties at the club), that I’m cool with my wiener. I mean, I think nine inches is awesome for a flaccid member, and I have no idea what kinda websites my wife is looking at… Hopefully, if I know you in person, the next time you see me you won’t poke fun at me for the small wiener story. I do, however, suspect that this conversation was intended to haunt the me who would ever consider disrobing in front of another female… some sort of cunning confidence-crippling psychological monogamy-handcuffs. And while it didn’t have me scouring the internet for Mangaian sex-herbs, I do seem to catch my little friend in the mirror a bit more than I used to.

So, I guess this is enough on that. Oh, and, for the record, I have a huge penis.

Our friends are having a baby today, seems like a lot of people we know have recently had, or are about to have, or are planning/trying to have, babies. I like that, actually, more birds of a feather with whom we can flock together (or something). Seriously for real though, I like babies, and am glad we have one.

Goodnight!

Posted on

super heavy-headed tired


Sunday night, a long, rather expensive weekend. Friday night we went out to eat, and then returned home and got an unexpected reprieve from parenting with a snap decision to take advantage of a babysitter and head to the local brewpub. Saturday we took Keaton to the zoo, and I went four-wheeling – lots of walking and driving and moving and stuff. I didn’t really want to run down the litany of the weekend though. The main thing on my mind is sleep. I don’t think I’ve managed to catch up from my late-night workathon Thursday night. And we’ve already established that the weekend wasn’t particularly restful. So I’m tired, super heavy-headed tired. I’m not going to write much, and what I do write won’t be good. Live with it.

I got a Barnes & Noble gift certificate for Christmas, and have been wondering what to do with it. I decided I was going to spend it acquiring and reading as many “classic” novels as possible, using this list as my guide. If nothing else, someone visiting will look at my bookshelf and think I’m a well-versed literary. Turns out, Barnes & Noble is super overpriced, so I bought only one book (a Bukowski novel not even on the list) – and I’ll just use the library for the rest. I think my fascination with the fantasy genre has served to sour me on reading, as I’ve been half-finishing most of my reading for a year or more now. With the recent Vonnegut novels I devoured, I think the subject-change helped a lot. I hope that by putting aside trolls and dragons for a bit I might be able to get back into the habit of reading again.

Turns out the new camera we ordered back in January was still on backorder through buy.com. Late Saturday night I gave up waiting, canceled the order, and went through Amazon instead. Ended up saving $10 losing the sales tax from CA-based buy.com, kinda mad I didn’t check Amazon to begin with, but I suppose all’s well that ends well. So, hopefully, our picture drought will end in the next week and I’ll be busily uploading pictures soon again.

Well, I can barely keep my eyes open or my head up, and my mouth tastes like garlic from one of the many finger-foods I ate at the Super Bowl party. My stomach is swollen-full and I can’t stop thinking about sleep. So…

I think I used this post’s image before… owell. Goodnight.

Posted on

but it’s free money


Wednesday night and I’m half asleep and have a headache. Just finished the Vonnegut books Ben got me for Christmas, nice books those: Cat’s Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five. I enjoyed both very much, so it goes.

I already took out the trash, did it right when I got home so I could ignore the annoying reminder that my cellphone will screech at me around 10pm. Cleaned out the catbox too (I don’t call it a “catbox” in real-life, but it works better on paper). We watched a movie tonight, and I left the laptop powered-down until now so I could enjoy it. We don’t watch movies much, so that was fun. Feeling better today too, not 100%… but better still. Good enough to do a day at work, blech.

Check out the targeted spam-comment I got on Keaton’s (dust-gathering) gallery recently, right here. Gotta be a one-man effort, congratulates us on Keaton’s arrival, and then tosses us a link to his Ebay-front golf supply website. Hey, if they guy went to all the trouble of entering in the captcha and doing the BBcode to make the link clickable – he deserves all the traffic my modest site can send him (but watch out Mr. Golf Supply, the flood of visitors could bring down your server). Ha!

I don’t talk about my family much here, I guess there are things I tend to keep out of the spotlight. I mean, you know how it is. But, I spoke to my brother today and had an interesting conversation. The VA assessed him as 60% disabled, and now the Army is going to give him money every month – for the rest of his life. I guess it’s not relevant exactly how much money, but you may be able to guess based on the details of our conversation. “Yeah, 60% disabled.” “Wow,” I say, “I guess that means you’re a little more than half fucked-up, huh?” “Ha, yeah. But the Army is going to give me amount every month, tax free, for the rest of my life – and they’re backdating payments back to last year.” “Wow,” I say again, “You know, you could totally live like a king for that much in some coastal village in Mexico; never have to work a day again in your life.” “Yeah,” he says, “I already thought of that.” “Cool, I guess,” I summarize, “Cool except you’re 60% fucked up for it.” “Yeah,” he says, “But it’s free money.” “Yeah,” I say.

Before I go, I wanted to mention a question Sharaun asked me tonight. When we saw an 11 o’clock news teaser teasing “California may ban incandescent light bulbs in favor of compact fluorescent, because they use a quarter of the power,” she said “Power. Where do we get out power?” I guessed a bit first, “Hoover Dam, maybe. Maybe Shasta? I think we have reactors too. I think we also get some from Oregon and maybe Nevada.” Anyway, my desire to validate my own guesses led to some fascinating (to me) research on the ever-awesome Wikipedia, where I learned about the completely rad-sounding Pacific Intertie and the X-Files sounding “Path 66.” Check it out if you’re a nerd, you’re sure to enjoy it.

Goodnight.

Posted on

who got my digits?


Stayed home sick again, blah.

I know I’ve been remiss in posting pictures to Keaton’s gallery, but that’s because our camera is kaput, busted. I have, however, managed to scour the web and find some semi-recent pictures of our little darling which were hosted at the websites of friends. Here then, courtesy of Suzyness, is the joint 30th birthday party I shared with Kristi, where Keaton makes several cute-as-can-be appearances. Enjoy. There, hopefully that will help quell the nastygrams from friends and relatives hungry for a Keaton fix.

Everyone keeping an eye on The Universal National Service Act of 2007? It’s a new bill introduced in the house, and its purpose is stated as follows:

To require all persons in the United States between the ages of 18 and 42 to perform national service, either as a member of the uniformed services or in civilian service in furtherance of the national defense and homeland security, to authorize the induction of persons in the uniformed services during wartime to meet end-strength requirements of the uniformed services…

OK. Sounds straightforward to me. A draft+ kind thing. Not only is there compulsory service in wartime, but apparently we must all perform “national service” for the “furtherance of national defense and homeland security.” I hope this is something as simple as being prejudiced against Muslims or towelheads, that sure would be easiest on me. Anyway, keep an eye on this one, it’s bound to make some news if it makes it through the first set of hoops.

Sharaun and I both got new debit/credit cards today, along with a note that our old ones “may” have been “compromised.” So, I had to go onto every bill I pay via auto-pay and update the card details, not to mention change my pin number. What a pain in the ass. And, I’m sure that “may have been compromised” means someone hacked into their database somehow, since it seemed to be a blanket mailing thing. I check our account pretty regularly, and hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary (aside from Sharaun spending a bit too much at places like the Gap, Marshalls, and TJ Maxx), but I downloaded the statements and went back through them using AceMoney as a fine-toothed comb. Nothing seemed amiss, so I guess we’re cool now that we’ve got things all changed up. Stupid identity thieves, scourge of the internet age.

Wow, what a random entry. Goodnight.

Posted on

the doctor is dead


Stayed home sick, slept most of the day, tended work e-mail over VPN when awake. Went to the doctor around noon, which of course means went to the “nurse practitioner.” Not that I have anything against RNs, but why even call it a doctor’s office if you can never see the dang doctor? In the imagined past that lives in my head, I remember when doctors used to come over to your house with their little black bags. You had a family doctor, he knew your history, knew your family, you could go see him if something wasn’t right. Nowadays, I have no doctor. Sure, there’s a name on my insurance card, but I’ve never even met the guy. Five years and I’ve only ever seen different RNs. They get the job done I suppose, but it seems like the notion of the “family doctor” may be dead. Anyway, I got a standard antibiotic so it went pretty much as I’d expected.

What is it with the doctor’s office and waiting? I got there, I’m the sole guy in there, and I’m still left sitting in the lobby reading some article about Wal Mart’s risky gamble in expansion into China. Fifteen minutes later, I’m taken back, weighed, and transfered to a little room where I’m once again waiting – this time for twenty minutes. I know no one else is in the whole place, when they walked me back to my room I passed the open doors of empty rooms, saw scrub-wearing lackeys eating lunch. It was just me and an office full of people who were making me wait. I hate that, bugs me.

I’m way up in the double-digits on the times I’ve spun Neon Bible now, and I must say it’s held up well. I was a bit worried that the here-and-there style leaks may have ruined the whole “flow” of the album, but not so. It’s good, really good, can’t wait to get an proper rip (the full leak was still a dodgy 160Kbps max) and eventually the real disc. Sharaun and I agreed we’ll likely break our concert moratorium when the ‘Fire comes to San Francisco. Yeah. Get a babysitter, convene the crew, and go see them live in the city. Damn, I’m old.

Goodnight.

Posted on

so little rain


Damn, the new auto-save feature of WordPress 2.1 screwed me. I had this entry open on two computers, wrote a bunch on one, which was subsequently erased by the auto-save of the still-open entry on the other PC. Anyway, it’s Sunday and I’m feeling sick – the same congestion crap I’ve been dealing with for a couple weeks at least now. The TheraFlu seems to be working now though, thankfully. I felt so bad earlier today, I considered not going into work tomorrow, but then I figured that may have been a little premature.

We’ve had so little rain thus far this winter. I miss a good rainy week. Usually, the rains start around Halloween, I know this because they’ve often hampered my don’t-wanna-grow-up decoration efforts. The usually stick around, making the colder months here somewhat expectant of gray skies and showers. This year, though, we’ve had so little. Maybe it rained while we were in Florida for Christmas, I don’t know – but I kinda wish it would rain a little now. I mean, I had to turn on my sprinklers, something I’ve never done in winter since being here, because my lawn was looking a little bit too much to the “dead” side of it’s winter hibernation browning. But, I do love the sun, and something about a chilly day that’s sunny makes me want to use adjectives like “crisp” and “bracing.” Those adjectives, right? If it’s not going to rain, I wish someone would let me know – I mean, I could pull the hammock out and take a nap in the “crisp” sunshine… or something similarly literary.

There’s a little pile of tiny dead ants on the floor in our guest bathroom, there’s another pile in the shower, on the edge of the tub. I killed them, sprayed them with death-spray – you can buy it at Wal Mart. Anyway, the pile of long-dead ants is a like a lesion, an outward sign of the terrible state of our house right now. Ant lay in waste on the bathroom floor, clothes litter the bedroom, the scraps and drips of past lunches mark the floor below Keaton’s highchair. We gotta get our act together, we gotta clean this place up. I go onto Sharaun the other day, gave her the same old, “You have to change this, Keaton’s going to learn by what you do, and then I’ll have to pickup after two slobs.” You’d think that was a paraphrase and that I might’ve applied a bit more tact in reality, but no, it’s relatively faithful to the dialog. Anyway, I have to do my part too – but starting from less-than-spotless, it’s hard to strive to maintain spotless. If things could just stay clean, I’m convinced Sharaun could learn to maintain. But, alas, there’s a pile of dead ants on the bathroom floor and I’m here typing.

Man, the Fratellis sure are blowing up lately. Looks like the advertising firms must read my blog, 9th place on my list apparently gets you Safeway and an iTunes ad. Get the album though, you’ll love it. Oh, and man, how on Earth did the Band of Horses album not make my Top 10 for 2006?! I call fraud, who made that damn list?

Hey, it’s clouding over, maybe it’ll rain.