2004 Day Planner: MIA

And the pox on he who has it now!

do I look happy?
I must accept it now. I cannot deny it any longer. My 2004 Day Planner is gone. A year’s worth of entries, everything from activities, to apportionments, to account codes, gone. Private ruminations on my father’s death, on job hunting, on the minutiae of life, gone. Even my lucky $2 bill, gone.

I have to accept it now. I cannot ignore it any longer. It’s been two weeks since I lost it on the metro. I filed a claim on the WMATA Lost and Found site. I even went all the way out to Silver Spring to the actual Lost and Found office. They don’t have my 2004 Day Planner. It is gone.

That means someone kept it, or worse, tossed it in the garbage. Why? It has no use, no value, no history for anyone else but me. And for me, its value is immeasurable. That’s why my name & contact info was inside. Why I even wrote a promise of a reward if someone found it & returned it to me. Yet I’ve heard nothing. Not a call, not an email, not the book at my doorstep.

I wander lost through my day. I know not my bank accounts, my frequent flyer numbers, what I did last week, what happened in July. I feel as though a year was taken from me, a time I shall never get back. Gone.

At least I have this website, so there is some history of January to October 2004 for me. Some tangible evidence of my life, of my experiences, of existence beyond the memories bound in my mind. Still, this is public, and my 2004 Day Planner, that was more than a record of appointments, it was my diary too.

So now I must start anew, fresh, and with two months left, rebuild my 2004 life. That and curse whoever has it now. May you loose something dear to you too.

I am a Guppy Dad!

Yeah you read that right, I am now a proud father

mom is cute
Baby Guppy in a month
what an idiot
Not Super Guppy
Stumbling half-asleep into my living room this morning, I was mid-way into feeding my many fish when I realized I am a new Dad. There, wiggling its way along the edge of my twenty-gallon fish tank was a baby guppy. A cute little baby guppy, not much bigger than the frozen mosquito larvae I feed my fish, investigating his new world.

Now I’m not so shocked to see this guppy, as I recently bought four new bright orange guppies to add to my random collection of zebra dainos, neon tetras, diamond tetras and a lone hatchet fish, but it is still an amazing sight.

Back in middle school I had an aquarium after a fateful goldfish win at a local fair. An aquarium that I loved for a year until the heater broke one night and I awoke to boiled fish. Since then, I’ve been pretty much pet-less, not wanting the responsibility, or when traveling, the ability to keep pets.

Three years ago, just before she left for Kenya, Sabeans gave me her twenty-gallon fish tank, tasking me with a responsibility that at the time scared me. Here I was, fresh from world travels, newly moved into an apartment, and expecting the arrival of my new wife, and I had to deal with fish.

Luckily, fish are just above plants and snakes in the low-maintenance pet world. They don’t need to be walked, petted, or even fed on a daily basis. No, all fish need is food most days, a water change here and there, and a working light and heater. For that little effort, I have hours of peace watching them swim. Peace that helped me deal with a layoff, a divorce, a death, and a hurricane.

Peace and happiness, as I am smiling from ear to ear thinking about baby guppy slowly, and with caution, exploring the tank. I don’t know if there were any other siblings and I fear that other fish or the water filter might eat it, but for now, I am a happy Guppy Dad.

Go, baby guppy, go!

Don’t Mess with the Republicans

Cuz some of them are too cute for their own good

Love the look
You happy to have Bush?
Bush folds as usual
Bush wilts under stress
Mmm... butter!
Let go my Eggos!
burnt Eggos?
At least Repubs are cute
hands up Eggo!
Is that a finger or gun?
you know you love him
As close as she’ll get
Editors Note: My friend Emily, while a lovely woman, has gone to the Dark Side this election and is campaigning for Bush. Not one to hate the player, but hate the game, I’m posting her missives from the New Hampshire campaign trail. Emily, I wish ya luck, yet I hope you fail.


Don’t mess with the Republicans
By Emily

This story is old news now, but still funny. I’ve had very limited internet access and I wanted the pictures to go with it which I’ve been having trouble attaching so here, better late than never. I still can’t believe this actually happened.

Some of you know that I was given a stand up poster of George W. Bush as a recruiting tool as were the other field reps. Some people have had theirs stolen, destroyed, etc. On Thursday I had my own incident.

I recruited at liberal Keene State University, nestled nicely in New Hampshire right by Vermont and Massachusetts. I had a great day of recruiting and hit up the block party at dinner. I was packing up and talking with a new Campus Recruiter and this kid kept walking around by me, a clean cut kid, and I thought he might be interested in joining, and just too shy to really do it.

He walked by me for a third time, this time behind me and grabs my Bush poster. I grab him by his black shirt but he gets away and runs off at a sprint. I run after him in flip-flops, eventually ditching them, as I chased him at least 3 blocks and off campus. I get to the main street but now I see someone in a red shirt running across the street, actually making it easier for me to see red from a distance.

I trail behind him and see him ducking in and out between houses. I figure if he’s walking down the street with George in his possession all a cop has to do is drive by and catch him, so I call the police. I’m on the phone with them out of breath trying to explain that someone stole my poster (pretty pathetic), I can see him and I’m right behind him.

Now he figures at four blocks off campus he’s safe, so he’s just being stupid now. I used some bushes to hide myself, caught up to him and surprised him. I told him to give it to me RIGHT NOW! He said it was just a joke, I said no it’s stealing! Still on the phone with the police, I grab the kid by the wrist and tell them I have him. He tries to run so I grab him by the shirt again, he eventually got away, but George was saved.

He’s all bent but he’ll be there to recruit again. I had to walk back and find my sandals, get my bag and everything I left laying in the middle of campus, but luckily the kid I was talking to stayed there to watch it. I came back and he asked what happened all I had to say was ‘Don’t mess with the Republicans.’

An officer did show up and there was really nothing he could do, but he was impressed that I chased the kid that far and asked me if I wanted a job. I showed him this was no ordinary poster, it was the President and these kids need to learn not to mess with other people’s stuff. I gave him a bumper sticker in exchange for showing up.

I went back to campus and kids were asking me what happened. One kid said he had a radio show and he was going to mention it, I said go ahead, just make you mention that he was chased down and caught by a girl. Hopefully it will be a lesson to these kids that they have competition on their campus and we don’t back down without a fight! Luckily I didn’t cut my feet, one of my fingers was a little swollen but the only thing bruised is that kid’s ego.

Another funny story from the campaign trail……..

John Kerry came into town last night. 10 College Republicans, 200 waffles, 400 flyers, 20 posters, and 3000 heated Kerry supporters later I’m sending you these pictures. We showed up just when people started arriving and freaked out the Kerry people, who
a. didn’t expect a counter-rally at a Kerry event 😉 or
b. didn’t expect us to get there so early.

They were running around crazy when they realized that we were handing out menus and real waffles [as in Kerry waffles on issues, but some of you know it better as flip-flopping] to Kerry supporters. We even had a person dressed in a waffle costume. But within time they had 30 loud and obnoxious volunteers to hold signs such as ‘Help is on the way, Kerry Edwards’ and of course a mega phone to project their creative cheers.

Eventually they were cheering to each other because we had moved over to get the incoming stream of folks. When they ran out of parking they made everyone turn around up ahead, which to me sounded like a “flip-flop” so after getting the people trying to park with a ‘just go up here and turn around’, ‘do a flip-flop up ahead’, they had to have people park further down. It was great.

My ‘Great debater, poor commander’ sign really ticked people off. The nice steel worker for Kerry in photo was nice enough to come back with the mega phone, and shout something not so nice in my face. I almost put my hands around the guy’s throat, but instead I bit my lip, it still hurts.

But I got an apology from the Kerry people because I recommended they not let the mega phone get into the hands of drunken event go-ers in the future. And as you may notice in photos that meeting John Kerry was not the highlight of my evening. For those of you Democrats out there, who are going to rip on me for my antics, hold off because the shoe was just on the other foot.

I’ve had to listen to them at every Bush event I’ve gone to. One really lovely lady grabbed a sign, ripped it up, and claimed it was free speech. But hey this is America, and the beauty is that at the end of the day we can all sleep easy because we’re not out there killing each other over our differences.

This is the high of the political campaign and it feels great. Till my next adventure, enjoy, and I will be enjoying leftover Eggos.


Segways are Sidewalk SUV’s

Send them to the streets, where they belong!

so classic!
Third Wheel = Stable
what an idiot
Inspiring confidence in both
America’s laziness has reached yet another pinnacle of inactivity, for yesterday, on my four-mile lunch run to the Capitol Building and back, I spotted a new and shocking sight. Seven people on a tour riding Segways along the sidewalk in front of the Capitol.

Apparently, City Segway Tours is now offering two daily tours of the National Mall, which is wrong on so many levels. First, Segways are motorized vehicles, no matter what the inventor claims. There’s a motor, wheels, and a steering device. He even filed the patent under ‘Transportation vehicles’.

And we’re not talking a wheelchair for the disabled. In fact, Segway says you have to be ‘able-bodied’ to use it. As a motorized vehicle, it belongs on the road, like a car, and should require a license and insurance to drive.

At the least, it’s an electric scooter or bicycle, neither of which is allowed on sidewalks. It is over 250 pounds (80lb Segway + 170 lb rider), two-feet wide, and barreling down a sidewalk at 12 miles an hour, three times pedestrian speed, it is a sidewalk SUV.

A sidewalk SUV that will run over people, crash into cars, and throw a few rides into the hospital. Hell, not even our illustrious President could take a spin without a spill. This being America, lawyers are standing by. I know if one of them hits me, I’ll sue my way into retirement. That is if I survive.

We are already such an obese nation, and this just makes it worse. Gone will be one of the last places suburban Americans are forced to walk, the National Mall. Underfit and overweight, I can see soft tourists swarming ’round in Segways, Segway knockoffs, or even homemade contraptions, all using Segway’s electronic personal assistive mobility device loophole to flaunt what was once a simple rule: Pedestrians on the sidewalk, everything else on the street.

Hurricane Frances is F’ing Up My Weekend

And maybe my whole month!

bitch pic one
A bruise
bitch pic two
A boil
bitch pic three
A bummer
I hope your Labor Day weekend is anything but laborious. I hope you are on a beach, a barbeque, or a backyard, soaking up the sun and toasting the end of summer. I hope you are enjoying this last blast of leisure, for I am not.

I am a ball of nerves right now, stressed out of my mind with worry and wonder. Hurricane Frances, that ball of fury on the coast of Florida, is about to make landfall just south of Vero Beach, Florida, a small town with big meaning for me.

While I still don’t feel I’m from there, my Mom lives there. In the house that she, my father, and I built twenty years ago, she has many treasures, from Balinese artwork to Dad’s handiwork. And now Hurricane Frances is battering that very house, and her soul, with 110+ mile per hour winds and driving rain.

I am not standing idly by while Mother Nature slaps my heart around. Oh no, I went All American and went shopping! With $2,000 in post-apocalyptic hurricane supplies, from chain saws to camping stoves, duct tape to plastic tarps, my Honda is a rolling relief wagon pointed south.

Come early Monday morning, before most of you recover from Sunday’s hangover, I’ll be speeding to South Florida, to help stabilize and survive what is going to be one hell of a big mess. Trees will be down, power will be out, and lives will be lost.

With the most generous backing of my new employer, I’m taking off the week to work dawn to dusk to clear debris and dry houses. Hopefully ours will be one of the lucky ones, houses that will only need electricity to be homes again.

Until I get there, I’ll not know, and while I’m hoping for the best, I’m preparing for the worst. A preparation that I’d love your help with. Hurricane clean up is not cheap, and coming just a month after Hurricane Charlie, the Red Cross is taxed to the limit, and before my first paycheck, I’m taxed beyond mine.

Please think of those who have been and will be trying to put their lives and their homes back together in the coming days and weeks, and donate your time, money, or both to the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund.

Or less formally, to my own Hurricane Frances Relief Fund. All (and I swear, every last penny) will be spent helping my Mom & her neighborhood recover from this party-crashing blowhard.

Thanks and enjoy your weekend!