Update

It isn't that I've been too busy to blog lately. I've just been in my mid-semester routine and find nothing particularly interesting to blog about. This is more of an update for the folks back west.

• We had a wicked nasty rain and wind storm a couple of nights ago, which I found out is a cheap and easy way to wash your car (assuming a tree or raccoon doesn't fly into it).
  
• I hit a pothole on the way to work tonight and blew out a tire. The car in front of me did the same thing, so we changed our tires side by side. The other driver had a much fouler mouth than I.
  
• I'm still teaching technical writing, but not exclusively to engineering students this semester. It's mostly seniors in nutritional science and other make-believe majors who waited until their final semester to take the course. I made them give presentations last week, and I threatened to fail them if they said "um." No one said "um."
  
• I have a third job now as a consultant for the University Writing Programs. I'm not sure yet what I do, but I put in a few hours each week in the office.
  
• I won't be teaching anymore after this semester. This summer I'm taking over as Associate Director of the University Writing Programs. Still fuzzy on the details, but my office has a phone and an air-conditioner.
  
• I used to hate peanut butter, but now I like it. Not sure what's up with that. My new favorite treat is "Under the Stars" ice cream by Hood. It has ribbons of peanut butter and little chunks of chocolate and I have to run an extra twenty minutes a day to burn it off, but it's totally worth it.
  
• Elliot has had a fever lately. She sits on the couch looking stoned with glazed over eyes and invites people to sit next to her.
  
• I find it creepy to think that while I was watching Bob Costas fly over Stanley Park with his camera-man last week, the body of Andrew Koenig ("Boner" from Growing Pains) was laying down there in the bushes somewhere.
  
• Miles accidentally locked himself in the garage a couple of days ago and he's still mad at me about it. Yes, I locked the door, but he can't prove it.
• Laura informed me I now have the physique of the Pink Panther.
  

The Danger of Weight Loss

Between meetings at church I went to use the restroom and found a turd and some toilet paper floating in the toilet bowl, which normally isn't enough to gross me out, since I've been attending a public university for nearly fifteen years (which, yes, is as sad as it sounds, since I'm not attempting to become a plastic surgeon) and I've come to terms with America's inability to flush after using a public toilet.

I reached forward to flush the toilet, and my wedding ring, which fit fine 35 pounds ago, slid off my finger and into the already-occupied toilet. It didn't fall directly in; rather, it bounced off the seat with a ping and then hopped to the other side of the seat. Three pings later, it plopped into the water, just missing the turd, and settled at the bottom of the bowl.

I stared horrified at the scene before me and contemplated my options. I bought the ring for fifteen dollars at a state fair, so flushing it really wouldn't put a financial strain on us. But the sentimental romantic in me began rolling up my sleeves, knowing what had to be done. I'll spare you the details of what happened next, but after washing my hands and arm in scalding water for the next five minutes, I decided it was time to retire my silver wedding band.

I found the gold ring Laura bought me when I was a young, skinny groom, which I haven't been able to wear for ten years. It fits great, but I think from now on I'll play it safe and just use my foot to flush public toilets.

The Importance of Sharing Childhood Memories

Yesterday, Miles and I somehow got to talking about a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal I had as a child. He had a weird case of the giggles, because what I thought was a rather sentimental and nostalgic memory had him roaring as I explained how Santa brought me a giant Pooh for Christmas, and how I wouldn't let anyone else play with my Pooh, and that Matt got one too so sometimes I would accidentally play with his Pooh instead. I told him how sad I would get when I had to eat dinner without my stuffed friend because my mom wouldn't let me put Pooh on the table. And then I recounted how, after finally growing up, I tried to give my Pooh away, but nobody wanted it.

Tonight, at dinner, Miles asked me to tell him some more about my Pooh, but Laura shut us down pretty quickly. "Your mother used to like Pooh, too" I whispered. "Back when she still had a sense of humor."

Finito

It was five degrees and windy today, so I splurged and paid for a meter across from my office rather than hiking a mile from the student lot. Best dollar I ever spent. But the doors of my building were locked. I knocked furiously and wailed and kicked and shook the handle and yelled "Please, No!" until a confused-looking student finally cracked the door open and glared at me with one eye. "You need something?" she said.

"I'm freezing," I said. "And the door's locked. And I don't have a key. And why are the doors locked at 6 pm? It's freezing out here."

I really didn't want her to answer, and she didn't. She returned to her texting and I mumbled my way past her toward my office.

I was told a year-and-a-half ago that there's a building key waiting for me "down stairs," but I don't really know what that means. The only thing downstairs is a scary bathroom and some exposed duct work.

My concern tonight wasn't that I couldn't get into my building, it was that my students couldn't get in either. I had arranged for them to drop off their final projects between 6 and 7 in my office. But unlike last semester where I ended class two weeks too early, I had ended this semester a few hours too late. Finals were over, the dorms were closed, and the buildings were locked up. I should really start consulting the school's calendar when I write my syllabus. I'm also starting to wonder who the student was that let me in and what she was doing inside the empty, locked building.

To prevent the onslaught of frantic "The building was locked!" emails, I decided to wait by the front door until every last frozen student stopped by. When I would hear a knock (or frantic wailing and kicking) I would open the door a crack, snatch their folder, yell "Merry Christmas," and slam the door shut. But even that brief exchange would leave my knuckles frozen.

And now here I sit, ten hours later, finally thawed out, and I'm done: papers have been read, grades submitted to the registrar's office, next-semester's syllabus revised and printed, and nothing left to do but write this blog entry and contemplate how utterly bored I am. I miss school.

Giving Thanks

It is Thanksgiving, so I have written a Haiku to express my gratitude.

"The Office" on HULU:
Twenty-two minutes
Unless you count commercials
Then it's twenty-six

Since it's a holiday, I offer you a bonus Haiku (not so much in thanks as in frustration).

The Receptionist:Snap to it Nard Dog
I don't want this dragging out
for three more seasons

Three Elliot Moments this Week

Elliot to mom, while coughing: “My body’s not working today.”
Elliot a few hours later when the cough was gone: “My body is working again!”

Elliot to me while watching Dora: “Daddy, will you turn the toilet on for me?” (My mind immediately went to a weird place as I wondered what would turn a toilet on).

Elliot to me while I sang "Defying Gravity" from Wicked: “Daddy, stop! You’re making my ears sick.”

My New Late-Night Hobby

I spent the better part of last night reading through old newspaper articles (kind of for school, but not really).

I found this funny little article from 1920 which claims that the slang word "movie" will soon die.

The term is a vulgar remnant of the days when theaters were cheap, filthy, and uncomfortable. Now, theaters are luxurious, "no longer cheap themselves," and no longer meriting a "cheap terminology." Instead, American's are adopting a terminology befitting the theaters beauty, dignity, and wealth.

We aren't movie fans watching a movie in a theater, we are motion picture patrons watching a photoplay in a picture theater.

The last theater I went to was cheap, filthy, and uncomfortable, so I'll stick with "movie."