Know Your Audience

When you go to a movie the previews generally, at least to some degree, match the movie you are there to see. Sometimes there may be one or two that are a bit tangential, but you get the feeling that if this movie is up your alley at least one of those previewed movies should go on the list of things to see.

So what do they show during the previews of an Academy Award Winning Movie starring three of the greatest actors ever?

Why, the newest B-movie suspense/horror flick starring Paris Hilton of course!

TGIF

The industry in which I work is fixated on the last day of the month. And it is always referred to as that, "the last day of the month." Sort of like, "that time of the month."

So today is the last day of the month. In terms of quantity, piece of cake. However, in terms of quality it's going to be a sink or swim sort of day. As in, everything will just be done with no effort from me and I won't even realize it's "the last day of the month," or step away from the Swankette, she's ready for blood. The Hulk may be summoned.

When I was working through the faxes that were already here when I arrived at work this morning I feared it would be the bad sort of day. I put in phone calls, I started preparing, I was summoning forth all the anger that was inside.

And then, just for fun, I went to a website that had not been giving me the information I wanted to see for the past week. And today, it gave me the magical information. And that easily, it became an easy sort of day and nothing could go wrong.

That's the best sort of day in the world (at least work-wise).

Warning to Diabetics: This One's Ultra-Sugary

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEETIE!!!

I've almost posted a couple of super sappy tributes to him earlier in the week (having nothing to do with the fact that he is 35 today), but didn't get around to it for whatever reason. So, since today is ALL ABOUT HIM, what better time to get all sickeningly sweet and effusive about the man I love.

Sappy Tribute the First: I have suffered from insomnia for as long as I can remember. When I was little it wasn't "insomnia" in my mind, but I'd be up all hours of the night with my flashlight under my covers reading. Post-college was when I started to clue in to what was going on, and figured out ways to work around it. Basically, when I'm under a lot of stress the thoughts start going a million miles an hour. When I lay down to go to sleep, the thoughts overpower the sleep, and I just start obsessing over things. The most surefire way to beat this is to have the TV on the crappiest programming I can stomach. It has to be interesting enough that my brain will at listen so it stops it with ALL THE THINKING, but boring enough that it can put me to sleep.

Tuesday night I got hit with a big wallop of sleeplessness. Between condo stuff and wedding stuff and work stuff and life stuff my brain just wouldn't sit still. So I went out to the couch. And it would have been easy enough for me to just sack out there for the night, but I wanted to be with my Sweetie. I sleep better with my Sweetie. I've suffered from a LOT less insomnia since moving in with my Sweetie.

He's got a lot of wonderful qualities that I love and adore, but, honestly, the ability to get me on a somewhat regular sleep schedule would be reason enough alone to marry the guy.

Sappy Tribute the Second: So we're watching Survivor last night, and it was the episode where the reward challenge was an auction for food and, at the end, letters from home. This time not everyone bought their letter from home, and it wasn't necessarily because they didn't have enough money. In the seasons I've been watching Survivor, this is the first time not everyone has bought the letters.

And you know what, a few years ago, before Sweetie was in my life, I don't know that I would have bought the letters. Family and friends, don't get this wrong, I love you all dearly, but I don't know that your messages from home would give me that needed push to get me through to the end. I KNOW Sweetie's would. I'd NEED those letters. I can even imagine what they'd say. I won't share it here, and not because of TMI, but because to try to explain to you why these stupid, pithy things would give me the motivation necessary to eat bugs and do other Survivor-type stuff would take more room than this blog has.

Yeah, I've found my soulmate. And he's 35 today. So go wish him a happy birthday, if you haven't already! (Oh, and am also happy that his birthday is 3-1/2 weeks after mine, because it makes it a lot easier to plan his birthday after he's already planned mine).

Book Meme

At the request of TRP, here goes...

You are stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. What book would you be?

I haven't read Farenheit 451, but I'd probably have to be Sid and Nancy: Love Kills (The screenplay to the movie), because I think it's the only book I COULD memorize (outside of children's lit) and that's only because a friend and I memorized the movie in our teen years. As in, we once recited the ENTIRE movie in the back seat of my Dad's Cadillac on the way to summer camp.

If the reality of being able to memorize an entire book isn't an issue I'd probably say Lord of the Flies, because when society came to its senses I'd want us to be very thoughtful in recreating ourselves.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

I presume this means a fictional character in a book, as this is the book meme. Can't say that I have.

What was the last book you bought?

It was either I'm Just Here for the Food or Eleanor Rigby. Both are now signed by the author. The signing for Food was first, but I bought Eleanor Rigby before the signing, and they were relatively close together. I also have an individual serving size box of Lucky Charms signed by Douglas Coupland.

What are you currently reading?

Choke: A Novel. This is the first of Palahniuk's fiction I've ever tried. I've heard great things about him, and I LOVED Fugitives and Refugees: A Walk in Portland, Oregon, but I'm finding it hard to get into it. Not that it isn't great writing, but you need to be in a very specific mindset to tackle it.

Me Talk Pretty One Day.

What five books would you take to a deserted island?

Individual books, this is tough:

The Bible. Contains a little bit of everything, and might actually get through it with all that time on my hands.

Animalia. I could get lost in the pictures for days.

Something by Douglas Coupland. He's hands-down my favorite author, his books are always good for a re-read, and since they always deal with loneliness it would be apropos. The question is which one. I reserve the right to change my mind, but today I'd probably pick Hey Nostradamus. (And I think I'm adding this to the current reading pile as a result of this question)

A great big book of Crossword Puzzles. Easy New York Times puzzles, unless I can smuggle a crossword puzzle dictionary on the island without anyone noticing, in which case give me the full week's worth of dificulty.

Atlas Shrugged. I am by no stretch of the imagination an objectivist, but it's a book that always gets the mental cogs turning. And it's a big,thick chunk of a book that has never taken me less than 4 months to read, so it will help kill a lot of time on the beach. And it's tied into some really good high school memories, so will even allow me to get a bit nostalgic.

Who are you going to pass this book meme to and why?

Most folks I know have already done it, so I'll pass it to Kaphine, Grigorpdx and Realsupergirl.

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 9

A diversion before we get to the heart of the matter: I've finally figured Gretchen out. For most of the Race she seems to always be complaining, but the complaining is not annoying or grating but rather somewhat endearing. And I figured out why tonight. It's not that she's complaining, it's that she's required to narrate every moment of her life good, bad or indifferent. And it truly is Amazing that they have made it this far in the Race, as their navigational skills are so week I'm surprised they can make it out of their bed to the floor each morning.

It was a non-elimination leg this week, so that means that we're stuck with the hated one a bit longer, but this is the week that it cracked. This is the week that his smarminess worked against him, and his stupidity gave him unwarranted confidence.

The teams are flying from India to Istanbul. They all make the same arrangements to fly through Delhi. Leave 10 am today, arrive 8:30 am tomorrow. So that morning at the airport in India Rob makes a smart-ass comment to Gretchen, "Hey, did you make it on the earlier flight?" Rob doesn't know of an earlier flight - he just wants to psych the team out and throw them into a tear frantically searching for this earlier flight.

Armed with this knowledge, Uchenna convinces a local to let him use a cell phone to call a Delhi travel agent. And there is an earlier flight. It's got a connection through Dubai, but gets into Istanbul (not Constantinople) two hours earlier. Uchenna and Joyce and Meredith and Gretchen all get ticket put on hold for them to pick up when they get to Delhi.

When the teams land in Delhi Rob and Amber go in search of an earlier flight, but there was a travel agent that did not succumb to the charms of the Boston lothario (and, perhaps, didn't know of this alternate flight available), and told Rob he was on the best flight available. the folks at Turkish Air corroborated that the direct flight was the fastest way there.

And thus Uchenna and Joyce and Gretchen and Meredith gained a 2 hour lead on Rob and Amber and Ron and Kelly, all thanks to the smarm-master trying to psych a team out. HIS SLIMINESS WORKED AGAINST HIM! IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END!

And here's where the stupidity comes in. Initially, all the teams had the same plane reservations. Leave Jodhpur at 10 am, fly through Delhi, arrive in Istanbul at 8:30 am. When Uchenna and Joyce, Gretchen and Meredith didn't get on the plane to Istanbul while in Delhi Rob's initial reaction was, "Oh, we're ahead of them now."

Let's think about this for a minute. You're on the same flight you've been scheduled on since yesterday. You're on the same flight the other teams have been scheduled on since yesterday. You had a several hour delay in Delhi. You're running a race. Do you think that the other teams were just so overwhelmed with the beauty of Delhi they decided to stick around for a while? They're so incredibly stupid they can't make it from one gate in the airport to another in the many hours they had at the airport? Are so intimidated by you and in awe of you they just decided to give up? Give me a break. Uchenna and Joyce are rocking it hard without having to grease any palms and you're jealous of them.

Which leaves me with just one final question this week. Apparently it is a common custom in Istanbul for people to weigh you on the street. I've tried searching in Google every which way I can and can't find an answer to the burning question: WHY? The only person who gets paid to weigh me is my doctor, and even if I'm in Istanbul (not Constantinople) and I'll feel skinnier because the number will be smaller because its kilograms instead of pounds you ain't getting me on a scale. I'll pay you to refrain from the practice, thank you very much.

And the final final question: If they're in a race around the world, heading East up until now, why did they just fly from India to Turkey? I'm intrigued as to where the route will take us next week.

Why I Love My Church

Somewhere in the 14th Chapter of the Gospel of John is the following text: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

There are churches of the Christian persuasion who will use this as proof that you've got to be a Christian or you're going to hell.

The priest today tackled this text head-on (as a digression). She spoke of the historical context of the statement. I don't remember the specific scenarios (but a copy of the sermon will be posted here at some point), but there were folks who were basically disinherited from their synagogue. Jesus was saying, "Hey, I'm an option over here!" And part of it was vengeance, "Hey, you get there through me so ha ha on those folks that disinherited you are really going to be feeling it later!" It actually ENCOURAGES discourse between different faiths, because then you're not going to be feeling the wrath otherwise.

I've had the foundation of the Episcopal Church often described to me as being a three-legged stool. You've got Scripture. You've got Tradition. And you've got Reason. You're actually ENCOURAGED to think! I like that in a church. And the fact that the Priests are willing to take on these passages from the Bible and give us a real-life historical portrayal of them. It would be a lot easier in trying to market the church to go with the standard "You'd best be a Christian or you're going to hell" approach to things, but I prefer being allowed to use my brain.

Bee Sting Trumps Drought

The Pacific Northwest will be suffering from a drought this summer. I plan on being a responsible citizen, doing what I can to alleviate the water shortage that is on its way. One small step I thought I could easily take was to refrain from the washing of the car.

But today there was a bee that was flitting around my car as I left for lunch. And then it followed me. There was a pollen so alluring clinging to my car that a bee stalked me. So I went and got a car wash this evening. Sorry, folks, but the prospect of a bee sting is less desirable to me than the ultimate impacts this car wash will have on the drought. And I did go to a place that would be at least vaguely environmentally friendly.

I've always had a reaction to bee stings. Not of the deadly variety, but I swell up really bad. And from what I understand that can develop into the deadly variety of sting, and I'd rather not chance it.

I also have a history of bee stings in the most unfortunate of places. My first bee sting was when I was in first grade. While at recess a bee stung me between my finger and fingernail and the stinger got stuck in there. For some reason, and I really have no clue what the motivation was, I didn't bother saying anything until I got home despite the fact that it hurt like hell. There was a lot of soaking of the finger in epsom salts after that.

Third grade was the bee sting to end all bee stings. Although the bee didn't sting me so much as I was rollerskating down a slight hill and happened to run into the ass of a bee with my neck. Ended up with a big sting in the middle of my neck. OUCH!

Although it could be worse. The childhood dog had a habit of swallowing bees live, and then they would sting her while they were flying around her stomach. And the dumb dog never wised up and continued to eat bees until the day she died.

So now I've got a clean car, and hopefully will remain bee sting free this summer.

Sweetie: Sports Genius

I know that in the past I have often extolled the genius my Sweetie has at remembering sports stats and trivia. This is an opinion that I have formed over the years by the fact that any time I have a question involving sports stats or sports trivia I will ask Sweetie and he will answer me. For all I know he could be answering wrong, but I don't think so.

For all this time Sweetie has insisted that he is NOT that knowledgeable about sports trivia. He has finally proven this to me, by means of the show Stump the Schwab. Schwab is the chief research guy at ESPN and they bring guys on who know CRAZY amounts of sports trivia. In the episodes we've seen together Sweetie has actually been able to stump the Schwab once in the final round, but it was moot because he wouldn't have made it that far in the game.

So I must admit that Sweetie is not the world's expert at sports trivia. But, I am not interested in the minutae that these guys know about, so he continues to fill my sports trivia needs quite well. I think I'll keep him.

Not Today, I Have a Headache

I am an infrequent sufferer of migraine headaches. The last one I suffered was in February or March of 2003, until today.

And normally I wouldn't be able to pinpoint that closely the date of a migraine headache, but a co-worker was a contestant on the short-lived television program "Are You Hot?" and I happened to get a migraine the day his episode aired on TV. There was no way I could make it to the party, and I didn't get ABC at the time, so I missed that moment.

As illnesses go, migraines are something I can almost deal with. It might have something to do with the fact that I average a migraine 1-2 times a year. It's easy to recognize the symptoms coming on, and there's a window of opportunity to make it to a dark, quiet place where I can sleep it off. The worst issues are the timing, because often they come on when I really can't afford to drop out of consciousness for 4-5 hours, and the cat, because he kicks into snuggle mode, which means he wants to curl up with me and purr his little heart out. When you have a migraine a purring cat is one of the most painful experiences known, and you don't have the energy to throw him across the room.

I can even, if I choose, manage the timing of a migraine to some extent. When I can feel the symptoms coming on I've got a window of opportunity available to me. If, within that window, I get myself a couple of Excederin Migraine and a liter of Diet Coke to chug down then I can remain conscious for the duration. I'm just going to be a wee bit of a space cadet for a day. There are times when I think it's going to be a standard issue headache, and take appropriate medication, and then after the fact realize that it's going to be a migraine. That's what happened last time around. Then I've just got to deal with it.

The first migraine I ever had was the worst. I was working in an office of two people at the time, and the other person was out of town at a conference. So I was running the office. I started getting the symptoms. It's hard to describe, but there's a weird tingling feeling in your brain, and the quality of your vision changes noticably (at least in my migraines). I had heard about these maybe being symptoms of migraines, so went online to do a little research. Best as I could tell it quite likely was a migraine, and if it was a migraine I was going to be feeling like hell very, very soon. I made an executive decision to close up the office early and go home. At the time I didn't care if I lost my job over it, alleving the pain was the primary goal. I was taking the bus to work those days. Thankfuly it was a bus that ran fairly often, and I hit the bus stop at just the right time. About 2 blocks from home was where the full-force migraine hit. Thankfully, the remainder of the walk was downhill and I could just use inertia to guide me. And then, I slept.

Today was a quiet day at work. Tomorrow will not be a quiet day at work. So I chose to just drop out for the day, crawl into bed and sleep it off. Once I woke up and got some food I was good to go. Even made it to a dentist's appointment tonight.

Baseball, Portland Style

So Sweetie and I were talking the other day.

Maybe we're just looking for another excuse for some more minor league baseball this summer.

Maybe we'd like to re-create the kick-ass Fourth of July we had last year at the Beavers game last year, with many friends in attendance.

Maybe we came to the realization that there are baseball fans in Portland who read our blogs, some of whom we know and some of whom we don't.

But we came to the conclusion that we need to do another baseball outing in Portland this summer, spread the net wide, see who bites.

Unfortunately, it can't be the destination of Swankette and TeacherRefPoet's Third Annual Fourth of July Minor League Baseball Roadtrip™ - they're only in town the evening of July 4 proper and I must be at work bright and early on the 5th. However, if you're interested in joining us for a game in the Tri-Cities or Yakima that weekend just holler.

It can't be in July (wedding preparations) or August (honeymooning and heading to Kaphine and Realsupergirls wedding), but the Beavers are at home Labor Day Weekend, and that could be a big bundle of fun. Last Labor Day Weekend took us to a game in Salem, so maybe this could become Swankette and TeacherRefPoet's Annual Labor Day Weekend Oregon Baseball Extravaganza™.

So, wanna' go to a Beavers Game Labor Day Weekend with us? There's games both Saturday Evening and Sunday afternoon, either of which would be fine, although Sunday holds a slight draw for me. The second to last game of the season and the first 3,000 fans get a schedule magnet. It seems to me it will either have to be a very small magnet (Hey, there's a game tomorrow!), or they've got a psychic working for them now.

Invite friends, family, loved ones, whomever. If we can get 15+ people together we can get group rate tickets, which seems like a worthwhile savings. Plus the group leader gets a voucher for four tickets to a future game, which would likely go to an actual Portlander of the crowd.

Comment or e-mail, we'll figure it out from there.

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 8

This is the second season in a row that The Amazing Race has traveled to India without forcing teams to experience the grope train. I'm so dissapointed. It was such a staple of the first five seasons, and then they just do away with it. I suppose it's still POSSIBLE for them to force teams on a grope train, but given that they've already had the 24 hours on a train experience it seems unlikely in my mind.

This is the second time The Amazing Race a fast forward has involved teams being required to shave their heads. The first time it happened the team refused. Given that both members of that team were models I respect that decision. It may cost you the million dollars, but you aren't guaranteed the cash anyway, and this way at least you can still get work at the end of it all. If you're not a model (or someone else who might be required to have hair in your vocation, although I'm not sure that occupation might be) you MUST shave your head here. Hair grows back, so just get on with it. The love Uchenna showed for Joyce as she was getting her hair shaved was amazing. This race has been tranformative for them, and this seemed like a really symbolic event in my eyes.

Sad to say the gay guys are gone now. Another team I thought would be ultimately annoying at the beginning of the season, and I've become rather fond of all the one liners they were always spitting out. But I think they won, even though they didn't get the cash at the end of it all. While spending the night waiting for a 10 am opening to get the next clue the boys went and got to be guests at a local wedding and hang and dance with the locals. THAT'S how you run the race!!!

And that means Gretchen and Meredith remain. And are officially the oldest couple to make it to the final four. They're not even that GOOD of a team, they just keep squeaking ahead of someone in each episode. This time they need to thank the crappy cabby who took the gay boys to the wrong location for the pit stop. They so should have been eliminated weeks ago that at this point I wouldn't be surprised if they won the whole darn thing.

Stay tuned for next week. If the previews at the end of the episode are any clue you should expect a great big rant from me regarding my team.

Stay Tuned

As proof of just how little my knowledge of computers is, the attempt to add a photo to my profile is resulting in a complete redesign of the site.

Be patient. New and improved links will be up soon. And hopefully a new and improved blog will follow.

The 2005 House of Swank

Apologies to Brian Lawrence, Oliver Perez, Jose Mesa, Cesar Izturis, Lyle Overbay, Adam Dunn, Jeff Weaver, Jerome Williams and Bartolo Colon for not remembering you earlier.

And it turns out Michael Barrett IS my backup catcher, good memory there.

But ultra-big, prostrating myself on the pitching mound apologies to Freddy Garcia for forgetting he's on my team. Because how could I forget my token Mariner? And yes, I know he's not a Mariner anymore, but with the expectations of the Mariners this season I didn't want to sully my roster with an actual Mariner, but settled on an alum instead.

Go M's!

The Fantasy of Baseball

If this week's fantasy points were calculated right now I would be the sure winner of the week (thank you for your first win of the season Mr. Schilling). I fear that may be the closest I make it to a win all season.

I've not done so great the first two weeks. Part of that was due to injuries of my two super-stars, Curt Schilling and Juan Pierre. They were both off the injured list last week, but this is the first week I've started them because I wanted to make sure they really had recovered before allowing them into the lineup.

But what really worries me is my performance last week. I did moderately OK for the week, middle of the pack. However, each of my benched guys scored around 5-10 points more than my active guys for the week. Juan Pierre was benched because of the injuries, but Melvin Mora and Lew Ford were benched because they hadn't done as hot in week 1.

I am a baseball fan, I enjoy watching the game, but I'm not the greatest at keeping up with all the varieties of stats out there. I know if a hitter is at Coors Field it's good to activate him. If a pitcher is at Coors not so much. That's about the best I can do.

Sweetie seems to know each players average in each stadium in the league. He watches his players during the week and can ascertain from that how they'll likely do next week.

Me, I'd have a hard time telling you who a lot of the guys on me team are. OK, let's try. I looked at my lineups a few minutes ago, so should do OK at it. 25 men on the roster:

Catchers: Jason Varitek and some backup guy. Maybe Michael Barrett? Or maybe he was my backup guy last year.

Corner infielders: Todd Helton. Kevin Millar. And two others.

Middle infielders: Jimmy Rollins. Michael Young. And some other guy.

Outfielders: Juan Pierre. Miguel Cabrera. Lew Ford. And some other guy.

Starting Pitchers: Curt Schilling. Roy Halladay. And 6 other guys.

Relief Pitchers: Octavio Dotel. Shingo Takatsu. Danys Baez. And some other guy.

Oh yeah, Melvin Mora is on my team. He had a kick-ass week last week. Don't know what position he plays.

And most of these guys are keepers. Miguel Cabrera was on the team last year (and was considered for a keeper, but KEEPING 2/3 of Florida's outfield seemed silly). I've got a thing for knowing who my primary catcher is, and I'm not qute sure why. Kevin Millar spells his name funny, so that sticks in my head. I saw Lew Ford play this year already. And the closers have odd names as well.

So how can I be expected to know that NEXT week will be your good week?

Two seasons ago Barry Bonds was one of my keepers. He may have been hitting the steroids he was setting records left and right, but he was useless in my fantasy books. Because he wasn't consistent. He'd have one week where he'd score nothing, so I'd bench him for the next week. So he'd go out and score a million points that week.

All I ask from my players is a little consistency. And to not get upset when I forget their names.

Last night Sweetie insisted on watching the end of the Phillies/Braves game. Danny Kolb (a former pitcher of mine, who I dumped because he is now a brave) was looking to get a win, and then fell apart in the bottom of the 10th. Jimmy Rollins, one of my guys, hit one of the coolest bunts ever to help advance the runner (and made it on base himself). I'd like to think this all happened because Danny's sad he's not a Swanker anymore. And Jimmy was trying to impress me. Too bad I had Jimmy on the bench last week.

But this week he's active, so impress away.

The New and Improved House of Swank

Went and bought a new laptop computer today. I'm not going to say what kind, because someone will say I could have gotten a better deal with some other brand, or this one doesn't have the power we need or some silly thing like that.

But I did my due diligence, and given that the primary function Sweetie and I demand of the laptop is "ability to surf the internet from the La-Z-Boy," this one will do quite fine. It's got a large, pretty screen, and given that the prior laptop was a 1998 Compaq with about 1 KB of free space available, this already blows that one under the table.

Getting the last of the registrations and such done now, tomorrow I'll commence with the transferring of the files off the old computer, and then I believe we will pull the plug on the Compaq and commence funeral services.

I don't know if the Compaq had a living will or medical directive, but I believe that even if we're taken to court we've got our butts covered. You know how on laptops there are the two hinges that hold the screen to the computer? One of those came disconnected sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning. Thankfully the darn thing still worked, because although I know I could hook the thing up to an external monitor that would be a real pain in the butt.

That means blog posts are going to be a LOT easier now, too. Since the computer moves at a reasonable speed, especially when looking up other websites for links.

A Sad Ending Indeed

Just caught the end of today's Angels vs A's game. Bottom of the 10th Oakland's got a guy on first with no outs, so they set up a sacrifice bunt to advance him. But the pitcher makes a bobbled throw to the first baseman, and by the time the ball is retrieved the sole run of the game (or, as I like to say, point) is running into home. Game over.

I don't think it really was an error by pitcher Scot Shields. I think Chone Figgins was distracted, because now he not only has to spend his time pondering how C-H-O-N-E spells "Shawn," but also is confused as to whether he is playing for Los Angeles or Anaheim. With all that on his mind you can't expect him to make the play at first.

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 7

Finally got around to seeing this episode tonight. And Rob's desire to schmooze anyone that comes in his path continues and continues to annoy me.

But stronger than my annoyance at Rob is my perplexion as to why Meredith and Gretchen have become local celebrities in Lucknow, India. Locals are breaking into random applause, asking for autographs, fighting for the opportunity to assist the elderly, with no real explanation as to how they reached their revered status. My only thought is that they are SO FAR behind the other teams the locals know it, and are taking pity on the elderly. Can't say that I blame the locals. The scars on Gretchen's face seem to get a little worse every week.

And we end the episode with a "To Be Continued." I wasn't thrilled when they pulled the stunt last season, but it's a little bit better tonight. They at least gave teams the tease of checkng in at the mat and getting to lay eyes on Phil.

So stay tuned for next week, because not only will it be the next pit-stop of the race, but given that we are in India now we could experience the "grope train" any time now. If you're not familiar with the grope train: practically every season on the Amazing Race they send teams through India. The trains are very crowded and full of Indian men. The Amercian women, especially the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, busty ones, get incessantly groped by the locals on the train. For some women it flips them into bitch mode ready to kick some Indian ass. Others shut down completely and can't handle it. It always seems to be a turning point of some sort. I think Kelly runs the greatest risk of suffering the effects of the grope train. Although Rob might suffer some when the locals grope Amber and he tries to kick 100 men's asses simultaneously. Joyce isn't white and can hold her own, and I think even the guys on the train will show enough respect to not grope Gretchen.

Now I'm kinda hoping we get a grope train sometime soon. The previews didn't show one for next week, but maybe they just don't want to show the death of Rob because that will give all the fun away.

ENOUGH!!!

I think I've had a pretty decent attitude as we've been going through the condo renovations. Despite the fact that it's costing us a healthy chunk of change. Despite the fact that the noisiest week of the work I was home sick with the flu stuck on the couch listening to the bang bang bang all day. Despite the fact that they decided to take the bedroom window out one morning just moments after I was standing naked in said bedroom. Annoyances, but I annoyances I knew were coming.

This week they've been doing interior work - replacing the trim on the windows and painting windowsills and affected walls. The notice we received on our door alerting us to this fact informed us that this work would be taking place between 8 am and 5 pm and to plan our lives accordingly. And so I planned my life accordingly. Normally I'm getting dressed around 8:05 am-ish, but this week I've modified the morning routine so that we won't run into that naked in the bedroom with workmen around situation.

Between 7:30 - 8:00 am every morning this week has been a ring of the doorbell at some point. Monday I was in a position to answer the door, and it was one of the workers asking to leave the door unlocked when I left so that they wouldn't have to go through the effort of getting the key out of the lockbox to get in. I'm OK with that. Most other morning this week the ring has come while in the shower, or otherwise unavailble to get the door. Such is life.

This morning that ring came as my feet were literally hitting the ground getting out of bed. The workman at the door wanted to give me a long explanation about how there were two types of paint, and that's why they needed in today as well. Or something like that, I was barely awake at this point. But I'd leave the door unlocked, sure.

About 10 minutes later (7:40 am give or take) is another ring of the bell. I'm presentable enough for the door, and figure it's just another guy asking me to leave my door unlocked - you know, Harry thought he was on door duty, but Bob thought the same thing. It's a painter. He wants to come into my condo RIGHT NOW. I don't let him. I inform him that we were told workers would not be entering the unit before 8 am. I'm not going into how I'm not going to let strange men into my house while I'll be showering and getting dressed. He copped some attitude as I sent him away.

8:05 am there's another ring of the doorbell. Same painter asking, in a very snotty way, if I will allow him into the condo now. And I do, as it is after 8 am and I am fully showered and almost fully clothed (still had to put my shoes on). Then, when I simply walked away and left the door open I could feel him sending more attitude my way. Sorry, but I've got stuff to do before I can go to work (such as put on my shoes), and I do not feel the need to play hostess to you.

So the workers had to move some things around to do the necessary painting today. They did a nice job of leaving a path to the couch. But then they put the video cabinet and some other stuff ON the couch, leaving nowhere to sit. Which I can almost forgive. But then I come to discover that the VCR is unplugged from the power strip, the cassette deck is turned on, and the thing that connects the Replay TV to the cable box is disconnected. I could understand them having to unplug everything from the wall earlier in the week, but I want to know what they were doing with my electronic equipment earlier today that left things in that paint.

So that is what I am left pondering as I sit on my couch, that feels like it's in a cave, and smell the noxious paint fumes.

It's going to be a long weekend.

Swankette the Prompt

I filed my taxes early this year.

By which I mean I just returned from the post office, where I was dropping my return in the mail.

The past 10 years I have been very good at filing my returns at the very last second. Some highlights:

1996: I move from Portland to Seattle on Saturday, April 14. First day on the new job is Monday, April 16. Same day I get around to completing my tax returns. Thankfully, I had packed the information I needed where it would be easily accessible.

1998: I'm newly back in Portland from Seattle. Around 4 pm on April 15 I'm frantically running around Portland looking for a form 1040.

2000: I start my new temp job with the baseball team on Monday, April 15. I was hoping to impress to turn it into a full-time gig, but when they asked me to stay late on day #1 I had to say I couldn't, because I had to go home and do my taxes.

2002: I think this is the year I planned on doing my taxes early (like around the 13th), but then realized I had never received, or lost, one of my W-2's, so had to go hunt it down before I could file my returns.

This year, ironically, I've been spending a lot of time the last few months THINKING about doing my taxes. But thinking about next year. Next year will be the first time I will actually itemize my deductions (thanks to the Sweetie and the condo), and as I've made charitable contributions, or thought about charitable contributions, I keep thinking I need to document all of this somehow so that we can claim all relevant deductions right now.

In the meantime, I need to figure out how I'm gonna' spend my refund.

More on Muppet Porn

A DISTURBING number of people find this site by searching on "Muppet Porn."

As of this moment I am the #3 site on google when you do that search.

Thanks to this post I'll probably move up in the rankings.

It's kind of creeping me out just thinking about it.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

For my birthday this year my parents gave me a subscription to Gourmet magazine. I'm very excited about this, and have already earmarked recipies that must be tried.

When I told Sweetie of the gift his response was, "It's a present for me, too!"

Specifically, here are the presents Sweetie will be receiving from this month's magazine:

Calamari Salad
Green Goddess Green Beans
Roast Chicken and Asparagus with Tahini Sauce
Sugar Snap Peas and Pasta
Artichockes Braised with Garlic and Thyme
Sweet and Sour Chicken Thighs with Carrots
Sole-Wrapped Asparagus with Tangerine Beurre Blanc
Salad with Papaya Dressing

Claustrophobic Condo

Sweetie's school district timed their Spring Break perfectly this year. The condo-work rages on, and this is the week they paint the inside parts of the condo that need painting from the new windows etc.

If they've actually started the painting it's fume-free paint, so that's a nice thing.

However, they may have just spent all day preparing the condo. The couch is buried in stuff that was strewn elsewhere in the condo. The windows are all covered, but because the covering is on the inside rather than the outside it's a more claustrophobic feeling than when they initially covered the windows on the outside once upon a time. The den is draped in plastic. One giant sheet of plastic covering the computer desk, another giant sheet of plastic covering all the bookcases and the other desk. It has the feeling of a house that's had all the furniture draped in anticipation of no one living there for a while.

And it's a really good thing that I decided to blog about this, because it's just occurred to me that the cat's food, water, and litterbox are all located in said den. Best go check and make sure that he still has access to the essentials.

The Cat is Away

And the mice shall clean house.

Sweetie is gone for the week on his annual Spring Break Baseball trip. Before he left he was actively preparing to miss me, while I was silently looking forward to some time alone to clean house. When one partner vacations and the other stays home I think it's somewhat harder on the vacationer than the home bound. He's out experiencing all this stuff that he can't directly share with me. My biggest challenge is I'll have to wait a few days to catch the newest episode of The Amazing Race and Survivor (because I can't watch them without Sweetie by my side), and it's a bit harder falling to sleep at night because there's just so much BED there.

Goal #1 for this week is to turn into a gym rat. Because I don't have anyone to rush home to and cook dinner for, so why not just push it a little harder?

Goal #2 for this week is to get some major housecleaning done.

In my youth I could only bake or cook without any chance of a spectator. There was a pocket door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house, and the door would be firmly closed when I felt a yearning to make some chocolate chip cookies.

Now I'll cook with anyone and everyone watching, but for some strange reason I prefer cleaning house without any voyeurs. I think I'm self-conscious about the way I clean house. When straightening things up I tend to take the not-so-efficient approach of picking up one stray item, going to put it away, then picking up a stray item in that vicinity, putting it away, picking up a stray item in that vicinity.... I was once told I clean house like I'm on LSD. By people who might know. This was also the day at the tender age of 17 that I vowed I would never, ever, ever, ever, no way would you change my mind, I don't care how crazy I got in college, not gonna' happen, ever try LSD. So it's just not acceptable to clean house that way. But that's my style and I'm sticking to it.

And hopefully when I pick Sweetie up at the airport next Saturday afternoon I'll get to bring him home to a nice, clean house.

The Amazing Race 7: The Clip Show

Because they know that suckers like Sweetie and I will gobble up any Amazing Race that comes our way, the producers at CBS are now compelled to throw in mid-season clips shows to help recap what's happened thus far, and show you the scenes you DIDN'T get to see the first time around.

Usually these things are a stupid and boring waste of time, so I'm going to blog real-time as I watch the show. Perhaps together we can find some entertainment. (Although, as a TiVo owner, I do still reserve the right to fast forward through commercials.)

One thing that's cool when they lump all the shows together is you get to see the big map with the big-picture view of where the teams have been. This is the most southernly route the race has ever taken. At least so far.

And thus we arrive at the opening credits. I already know who the teams are so, Fast Forward...

The gay guys have really grown on me this episode. They may not be as flamboyant as Team Cha Cha Cha was, but they've got wit and they hate Ron and Amber. I could be their fag hag.

I fully encourage the Amber and Rob hatred, but it seems like it's waned throughout the season.

And now teams are begging for money in the airport. Not sure if they weren't given enough money for the leg, or just bad budgeting in early rounds. That would be the toughest part of the Amazing Race for me.

Zip lines look fun! Sweetie and I might go on a zip line adventure in Kauai, that's still under negotiation.

OK, I had my suspicions that Debbie and Bianca were secretly gay, and the closest I'm ever going to get to confirmation is a remark to a South African local woman referring to, "Another queen here." I don't know of any straight girls that refer to other girls as queens. I don't even know why this matters to me.

I wish the Southern boys had lasted longer, they really looked like they would have been fun.

Rob needs to open a used car lot. He is the epitome of the used car salesman. He likes to schmooze with people and grease palms. I could totally see him trying to sell me a tricked out Chevy Camaro. But Chevy isn't sponsoring this show and we're at another commercial. Fast Forward...

So apparently there have been MULTIPLE head wounds on this season of the Amazing Race. Maybe 7 isn't such a lucky number.

Oh, I am so very glad the pretty blonde girls and the brothers are no longer on the race together, because to watch a guy hitting on a girl that hard is just annoying. And so now on the clip show I'm getting to watch the four of them share a hotel room. And the one girl smirking when she says the guys were perfect gentlemen. I so didn't even need my brain to go there.

So now let's shop. Or shlep. And I'm starting to see the cracks in my teams armor. Miss South Carolina really is a diva, and needs to learn to go with the flow.

Oh, the justice, that the boys that hooked up with the girls were in a foot race against each other to the finish. Hope you had a good time last night, since you won't have a hottie to share your sleeping bag in the next leg.

How has Rob not run out of money, he's actively seeking opportunities to grease palms. That is what makes no sense to me.

And it astound me that Debbie and Bianca missed the part in the clue that they're supposed to be driving through the ANDES and travel hours out of their way along the BEACH.

And there's a Walmart in the center of freaking Argentina. There's something just wrong about that.

And now we get to the most disgusting challenge ever. Having to eat four pounds of cow. FOUR POUNDS. I cannot even comprehend four pounds of meat. And thus, the penalties. And the commercials. Fast Forward...

And now is as good a time as any to mention my annoyance at this season. When teams I like win the leg there is no prize, but when the evil teams win legs they get trips and cash and stuff.

I might have chosen elimination from the race over eating four pounds of meat. But if Debbie and Bianca hadn't spent all day driving along the beach they may not have had to make that choice.

Recently on the race they've taken to doing challenges where you have to compete them in a "competitive" time. Sometimes a team may have to try two or three times to get it done, but I'm really curious how "competitive" these times are. You'd think it would be a lot harder for a rank amateur to complete it in the time alloted if it were really that competitive.

If Rob and Amber are living the American Dream I think it's time to start believing in nightmares.

The brothers want to have a good time, and aren't out to test their relationship. Perhaps they shouldn't have had such a good time. This is one team I had pegged from before the race. Athletically they couldn't be beat, but the brains didn't match up to the brawn.

Man there are lots of money problems on this race. Has this always been the case and we just haven't seen it before? Or do we just have 11 teams who are crap at keeping a budget? Maybe this is why they're all on the race. They need the $1,000,000 as a buffer in their savings account for when they can't make their budget every month.

And yet more begging.

Rob is threatened by the gay guys. I like that.

And now we're in Africa. A continent with right-hand drive. And, apparently, difficult trunks to operate.

So here's the thing with Ray and Deana. Ray always seemed to be complaining about Deana's ability to drive, but she's always the one driving. If she's such a bad driver, why don't you drive, buddy?

I know head injuries are no laughing matter, and I'm not discounting Meredith's concern for Gretchen or the gravity of the situation, but head wounds bleed a lot worse than they are, and the milked the bump on her head for a lot more than it warranted. Enough to lead us into another commercial. Fast Forward...

But when interviewing the team after the event, you could see the love in Gretchen's eyes, and that was sweet.

Ha ha, Rob and Amber missed out on a fast forward. Too bad they weren't eliminated as a result.

There have been more marketing challenges in this season than seasons past. Meaning shopping, not trying to sell wares to the locals. But how cool would that be? The Amazing Race meets The Apprentice. And if such a show ever is created I want some credit for the idea.

And now they're feeding lions. That would be a really cool experience.

I just gained an ounce of respect for Amber. She's calling Rob out on some of his stupid BS. She's still getting married to the dork, but at least she knows he's a dork. And then they're in Africa and see their dang photo on the cover of a magazine. ENOUGH ALREADY!

And then they brothers rolled the car. I may have to switch allegiances to the gay guys. They're running the race hard, but they've also got their priorities straight.

I want to go on an African Safari. That's got to be one of the coolest things ever.

And now we're watching boring clips of the boring show that I just finished watching an hour ago. It's still boring. But the gay guys continue to kick out the one-liners.

And now the brothers are putting on their swimsuits. And we're caught up. Yeah, this was a really stupid show. And to reinforce the idea we get ultra-cheezy inspirational quotes from each of the remaining teams. And now we just need to wait until the next episode.

Or at least scenes from the next episode. The old team gets a standing ovation. I'm intrigued. But I won't get to find out until a week from Saturday, so don't let me in on the secret before then.

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 6

Before we get to the show: My deepest apologies for the delay in this post, but I went to a Mariner’s game last night, and by the time we got home and watched the episode it was midnight and I was not interested in staying up longer to compose a post. Don’t look for next week’s post until the following weekend, because Sweetie will be out of town on his annual baseball trip and I don’t think I’m capable of watching an episode of The Amazing Race without my Sweetie either by my side or on the phone. And now it’s official, every blog post I make is about baseball.

So now to The Amazing Race. Which was for the most part an entirely forgettable episode. All the conflict involved missed or misinterpreted minutiae, which doesn’t make for exciting television. Thankfully, for the sake of my weekly update, there were lots of style points to be given for the week. Especially from the gay boys:

As they gay boys are milking a goat in a detour challenge: “I have a whole new appreciation for goat cheese now.” It takes a LONG time to milk a goat!

Which leads to the eternal question, “How many gay guys does it take to milk a goat?”

"Look, I layered!" Fearing they were in last place, and hoping it was a non-elimination leg one of the gay boys put on as many clothes as he could muster, since they would be left with only the clothes on their back.

Yet, the ultimate style prize goes to the brothers, who were ultimately eliminated. They took the opposite approach to the gay boys, and stripped down to swimsuits, sunglasses and fur-lined hats. (Quite a fashion statement if you didn't see it for yourselves). They dared Phil to not eliminate them and make them run the rest of the race in practically no clothes.

Yeah, that's really all the entertainment there was this episode. But there's always next week.

Two for Ten Dollars

Having worked in the front office of a sports organization I tend to pay attention to game operations as much as the game itself when attending organized sporting events. The music that is played between batters, the ways we are hooked into thinking about a sponsor, it's all part of the experience for me.

As is the hawking.

My first year with the sports organization we were wrapping things up with a team in one city, preparing to move it to another city to make room for the new team. Moving to a new city meant changing the name of the team, so that meant all the merchandise the team currently had on hand would be meaningless at the end of the season. And there was a LOT of merchandise. Picture a warehouse the size of two racquetball courts FILLED with t-shirts and tchotchkes and such. There was really only one solution available - CLEARANCE SALE! So for the last week of the season we were out on the sidewalk in front of the stadium before every game trying to blow out as much of the merch as we could.

At the time we could probably be considered a small but scrappy start-up. 15-ish employees, and although we all had official job descriptions there was definitely an atmosphere of do what needs to be done to get the job done. Additionally, I was trying to get my foot planted firmly in the door as a temp-turning-permanent who wanted to climb her way up the ladder.

That meant t-shirt duty. We had about 8 big banquet tables filled with t-shirts to unload. The first night out there the shirts were piled up as high as my head, with boxes of overstock to boot. By the end of the week we could cater to the small and the XXXL almost exclusively. My chant during that week was, "TWO FOR TEN DOLLARS" and you could hear my voice echoing from what others have told me. (Which should be no surprise to those who know me, as I'm a little too good at projecting my voice at times). Lost my voice at the end of it all, but it was worth it. We unloaded a lot of t-shirts and it ended up being a hell of a lot of fun.

Last night I went to the Mariners game with my Sweetie. Because of work schedules I took the bus over to the stadium on my own, and met up with him at our seats. It's day 2 of the season, raining and cold, and our team isn't very good. That means it's not a very crowded night.

One of the things I enjoy about Safeco Field is that as you are approaching the stadium from the north (downtown) there is a street that gets shut down with hawkers and street performers running up and down the lane. Anyone coming to the field via bus or from downtown walks through here, and there's a funnel action going on with how the parking lots line up. On a beautiful Saturday or Sunday afternoon you can feel the energy growing as you approach the stadium.

Last night it was a trickle of bodies, and I don't think a lot of hawkers bothered to set up shop. Those that were there were mostly happy to take your money, but weren't working the few of us in the crowd that hard.

With one exception. I was in a rush last night, but I'll go back later this season and buy peanuts from this fellow. He was an asian fellow, in his 70s or 80s, short. He held a bag of peanuts in each hand, raised them above his head as a runner celebrating finishing a marathon, and at the top of his lungs, with a Hari-kiri style cry, would shout out, "PEANUTS!"

He'd only yell it every minute or two. Often enough you noticed his distinct voice, but not so often that it was grating or annoying. He had such passion, such ferocity, with his call to let us know that he had PEANUTS!!! Anyone with that much conviction in his peanuts is a man I want to be buying peanuts from.

Now if only the Mariners could have such passion and conviction when they play the game. I fear it's going to be a long baseball season in Seattle.

I promise I'll start blogging about something other than baseball soon. Maybe.

DESI!!!!!!!!!!!!

I joined my fantasy baseball league in 2002. At the draft and for the first part of the season I was working for a minor league baseball team, so baseball was running thick in my blood at that point in time.

But as big of a baseball fan as I was, I've never been someone who knows the stats. That's what Sweetie is for. He is an encyclopedia of sports knowledge. Ask him a sports trivia question and there's a good chance he knows the answer. Me, on the other hand, I couldn't tell you the record of the minor league team I was working for most days.

Maybe not the best person to join a fantasy baseball league, but I loved the sport, I love my Sweetie, and as much as I may not know the stats I do enjoy stats and numbers, so what the hell?

As such, some of my drafting decisions were perhaps a little more emotional than they should be. I wanted Juan Pierre, because I remembered watching him play for the Portland Rockies and he was a pretty good outfielder. He was also on the Colorado Rockies, which was the major league affiliate of the team I was working for. I wanted to have a St. Louis Cardinal, to honor my baseball past, and a Seattle Mariner, to honor my current major league team of choice.

The early rounds of the draft are easy to approach systematically. I got Juan Pierre in a pre-season trade. I got Curt Schilling and Byung-Hyun Kim. I had some guys who could really play. But by the late rounds of the draft it starts to get a bit more difficult. Flip a coin, pull a name out of a hat, he was born in the same year as me, in the same town as me, has a fun name to say. Good of a reason as any to pick him.

So it gets to the last round of the 2002 draft and I realize that I haven't picked a Mariner yet. So I find the best remaining Mariner available (this is back when Mariners were worthwhile players to have on a fantasy baseball team) and the magic name was Desi Relaford. He wasn't even in the daily lineup, but Desi was my man. And because he was the fantasy player I was most likely to see play live I became an instantaneous fan of his. If Sweetie and I were at a Mariner's game and he game to bat you could hear me squeal, "DESI!!!!"

And although he wasn't a superstar in any one category, I quickly became a fan of his for his versatility. He was a true utility guy, available at every fielding position our league offers except for catcher. If other players were injured or just stinking have no fear, for Desi is here. He rarely put up big points, but you could count on him to put a few points on the board.

And so he became my team mascot, and I picked him up again in both the 2003 and 2004 drafts. Desi hadn't let me down, so I didn't let him down either.

Yesterday was this year's draft. I had my eye on Chone Figgins (another former Portland Rocky, although I don't remember him), but missed him by one round. Chone Figgins and Desi Relaford were the only two players in major league baseball who are eligible for every fielding position except catcher in our league. So I figured I'd pick Desi up with my last pick of the draft. But then the last round rolled around, and I started to doubt my choice. Desi has never been one for great numbers, and he's been injured. He's down in the minors right now. Maybe I need to settle for a two position utility guy. And so I betrayed Desi and drafted Kevin Millar instead. Sweetie was in shock. He said that somewhere in the world Desi Relaford was crying right about then.

This morning I logged onto Sportsline to check on my team's progress after one game. (Thankfully Jason Varitek put some points on the board for me. He's the man I drafted the round I should have taken Chone Figgins, so I've got big expectations for him). On the front page of the website are players notes - next to each note, if the player is owned by a member of our league, is a copy of that team's logo. Desi had some news this morning, and there was my logo right next to his name. Desi may have been crying yesterday, but today he was saying he forgave me and he is still a member of my team, if only in spirit.

After 24 hours of major league baseball I'm sitting in second place in the league, so Desi as guardian angel is doing an OK job so far.

On Baseall and Relationships

Once upon a time I was born in St. Louis, MO. My mother was also born in St. Louis, MO. We lived in St. Louis until I was four. As such, I was born a St. Louis Cardinals fan of both the baseball and football varieties.

When the St. Louis Cardinals football team moved and became the Arizona Cardinals my mother proclaimed a hex against the team. When St. Louis gained a new football team and dared call them the St. Louis Rams an even larger hex was proclaimed against them.

To say I was born and bred a St. Louis Cardinals fan is an understatement.

And then there's my Dad. He was born in Northern Wisconsin. So I can accept the fact that once upon a time he was a Milwaukee Braves fan. I can understand his obsession with the Green Bay Packers and am astounded he doesn't wear a giant wedge of cheese on his head. But it is beyond my comprehension why he is an Atlanta Braves fan.

I've expressed my disgust with the Atlanta Braves before. Ted Turner is such evil incarnate that I cannot even stomach having a Brave on my fantasy baseball team. It runs that deep.

So Sweetie knew he was treading on dangerous ground when he predicted Atlanta would win this year's World Series. When he told me of his prediction my initial response was that he was trying to get in good with my dad. But then he read me all of his predictions, and he does not realize the situation he is putting himself in by putting St. Louis vs. Atlanta in the NL Championship and then having the evil Braves win.

In 1996 St. Louis faced Atlanta in the NL Championship (I believe, it may have been a divisional game, I don't reacall that clearly). I was with my Mom and Dad in St. Louis at the time, following the series with the relatives we were visiting. Mom and I knew we couldn't get Dad to change his rooting interests, but we encouraged him to at least be quiet about it. He wasn't. He was loud and obnoxious and when Atlanta swept the Cardinals he was insufferable. If looks could kill and murder were legal Mom and I would have been burying Dad on that trip.

Oh yeah, and Mom and Dad just switched from Dish Network to DirectTV yesterday. Which may seem like it has nothing to do with this post, but with DirectTV they now have Turner South as a programming option which means my dad can watch every single Atlanta Braves game there is this year.

Sweetie promises he won't be rooting for Atlanta come World Series time. But he doesn't understand the irrationality that can overtake my family when the Braves and the Cardinals face each other in the playoffs. So stay tuned, because if his predictions come true then October might just see an outstading battle of the sexes in our family. And I sincerely hope he ends up on the losing side of that battle.

That'll learn him to say anything nice about the Braves.

Nature vs. Nurture

As an adoptee the thing that astounds me the most are the moments when I become aware of the fact that I am not biologically related to my parents.

This morning I was talking to my mom on the phone about our new honeymoon venue in Kauai. My parents have stayed at this place several times, so they've got lots of suggestions on places to go and things to do. Mom commented that each community on the island has its own farmers market and we need to make it to at least one of them because it's astounding the variety of produce available, and especially the differences between the different markets in different locations on the island given what a relatively tiny island it is.

My comment was something to the effect of, "Great, I'm going to be on my honeymoon and compelled to cook because of all this fabulous, unique produce available to me." And I was only being half facetious. My mom didn't get it.

Then I decided to go to the store and pick up some food for tomorrow. In honor of our fantasy baseball draft and MLB's opening night I decided we should have food from the ballpark. By which I mean I went to Whole Foods and bought some nice sausages and demi baguettes, organic stone ground corn chips and aged ultra-sharp cheddar, russet potatoes and fresh garlic. In other words, hot dogs, nachos and garlic fries but with a distinctly gourment flavor.

I did not get my interest in gourment cooking and organic food from either of my parents. My mom's greatest contribution to my kitchen skills is imparting the wisdom to me as a child that it's no more difficult to take tomato sauce and make your own marinara than it is to go buy a jar of Ragu. But she also was in awe the first Thanksgiving I brought the pie to the meal and rather than buying a can of Redi-Whip I brought some whipping cream and opted to make my own. While at Outback Steakhouse once my father proclaimed that they probably had the best ribs anywhere.

Yet here I am constantly pushing my epicurean skills and trying new things in the kitchen. Is cooking an important part in one of my birth parents' lives, that was genetically coded down to me? Or is there some personality trait they passed down that precluces my love of cooking? Or is it all just a random occurance, because kids always have some fundamental differences from their parents?

When the psychologists frame their nature vs. nurture debates, I don't think this is what they had in mind, but it's moments like this when it comes into my mind. I may never know the answers to these questions, but at least I'll have a full stomach to distract me.