I haven’t been up this early since I worked as a barista. Well, technically up this late.

I’ve spent the last few hours regretting the iced doppio I had at 8:30 (stupid, I know)…. but relishing the energy that has culminated in the finishing touches on this new site.

Still, it’s just past four in the morning and I’m getting ready to go to bed… *sigh*

My cats won’t leave me alone today. I can’t imagine why—it’s ridiculously hot outside, which means my second floor apartment is just-this-side-of-sweltering—so they should be lying motionless in the bathtub. (The air conditioner is on, but I think even it’s crapping out on me.)

No, they’ve been trying to figure out every way to be TOUCHING me at all times. I’m doing dishes, they’re sitting on my feet; I’m paying bills, they’re sitting on my lap—GET OFF ME, it’s freaking HOT!

I’ve decided it’s all a ruse to convince me to buy air conditioners for every window in the place. Together, their devious little minds have come up with a brilliant plan—raising my body temperature (by using theirs) until I crack.

It’s working. I wonder if Wal-Mart is having a sale…

the guest thinks they’re out to get him…. lol

Where did my Left Socks Go?

This morning as I was getting dressed I noticed a lonely sock sitting all by itself. A right sock. Unfortunately, this is not a new sight to me.

Over the years I’ve noticed that I have an ever-growing pile of right socks. I wait for the left sock-mate to appear but to no avail. I recently pointed out this phenomenon to my wife.

She’s convinced that this is of no concern and that the socks that are missing aren’t all left socks. How does she know? She matches left with left and right with right all the time! “Besides” she says, “why would only left socks disappear?”

Well I have a theory on all this. I have to warn you that this may be a little provocative, but hopefully you will see how this all makes sense.

Over the years, the major washing machine manufacturers have continued to improve their technology allowing clothes to become cleaner and last longer. For years socks were one of the most profitable consumable clothing items as they would wear out quickly and need to be replaced.

As the technology improved socks started lasting longer and longer. Sock sales, (particularly men’s socks) took a substantial hit. Men will wear socks until their absolute death. Holes, broken elastic, threadbare – doesn’t matter.

Almost 10 years ago in 1996, the major clothing manufacturers formed an alliance called the “World Wide Sock Federation.” This alliance was formed to address the declining sock sales. After much planning and debate on how to resolve the problem, they partnered with the major appliance manufacturers.

They also brought in top scientists and statisticians from all over the world. After much debate they formed the most perfect and insidious plan to dupe the worlds sock consumers.

You’re probably wondering what came of their evil genius. The scientists came up with a way for appliances to selectively destroy left socks. The reasoned with the help of the statisticians that by targeting only left socks that they would be able to render more pairs of socks unusable while minimizing the actual number of socks that needed to be destroyed. Such an elegant system would likely be unnoticed by the average consumer. If anyone did catch on the whole idea of laundry machines destroying left socks would seem so outlandish they figured they could get away with it.

Have you ever noticed how your lint trap gets so full after every load? You think it’s normal for so much lint to accumulate simply from washing your clothes? I don’t think so!

World Wide Sock Federation, I’m on to you!

I have to go buy some socks now.

…because of these emails he sends that make me laugh out loud and shake my head. 🙂

Kodak Moment

You ever have one of those amazing pictures sitting right before you in real life? Just tonight I had just that happen to me. I’m standing outside and a beautiful deer is standing right in front of my house.

Thinking quickly, I run inside to grab my camera. The deer is waiting for me – this is almost too good to be true.

It’s dark outside so I know I have to have steady hands. I decide to switch it to manual focus as the auto focus can fail when it’s too dark. I set my ISO setting for the highest available to accommodate the dark lighting. I open up my aperture to allow the most light in possible. This is going to be perfect.

Check it out!

(picture here)

You’re probably wondering what happened?

Ok, so maybe it didn’t all go to plan. (!@#$ Bambi) Somewhere between the focus and the ISO and the aperture and everything else out, I managed to take a great picture – without the deer.

Thanks to Google image search and a little sloppy Photoshop work and you get the idea.

I can see this happening—throw in an “I sicced my cat on a mouse, took a shower with a hose in front of a hotel and lamented my fate as landlord of a looney,” and that’s a day in the life of the guest.

We love him. He’s an entertaining fellow. 🙂

Commentary on Jewish Spirituality

This morning I attended my weekly morning class on “Chasidis,” the study of Jewish Spirituality. Today’s discussion was about operating on the spiritual level despite living in a physical world.

Rabbi Grossbaum explains how the physical world is incidental to the spiritual world. For example, he explains, when a true Chasid gets hungry he satisfies that hunger only in spiritual obedience to providing for his body without regard to the physicality of the nutritious experience.

My stomach gurgles. I think to myself. “HAM SANDWICH.” Thank G-d I don’t have to keep kosher. My friend Jonathan seems to be thinking the same thing I am. He argues that the physical and spiritual are intertwined, how can we separate the two? The Rabbi counters, “you miss the point” he says. Jonathan is about as Chasidic as one can be while still being a goy*. (Some Jews actually claim he’s more knowledgeable than many Rabbis but he’d never admit it.)

The discussion continues. My stomach gurgles again. Jonathan continues to disagree. Jonathan is also not Jewish. Like me, he finds Jewish studies to be interesting.

The discussion comes to a close. Jonathan and I agree to go get some breakfast.

We order our food.

We talk about operating on the spiritual level. Our food is served.

We both look at each other. “Wow, this bacon is delicious!”

*Goy – Jewish word meaning “not Jewish.”

Dear Mouse,

I’m sorry I flushed you down the toilet.

Here’s the thing. I was asleep last night when Calvin caught you. (You remember Calvin, he looks like a cow with whiskers).

I was tired. She was freaking out. Perhaps my judgment was off. “Burial at sea” seemed appropriate.

I honestly wasn’t prepared for you to start doing the backstroke in my toilet. I’m sure you can understand that I was alarmed. I reacted. The silver handle was right there. I saw you swimming for it. Once I realized my error I was honestly hoping you would survive the whirlpool.

If I had known you were alive I would have set you free.

I am so so sorry.

Sincerest apologies.

The mouse that got away.

She emails me. Stuff’s broken again on the sites. Somehow fixing the PHP templates broke something else. And to top it off, comments aren’t being posted.

At this point I feel compelled to tell you that I have three cats. It will all make sense in a moment.

Calvin is a domestic medium hair mouse hunter. He’s a bruiser. He weighs in close to 15 pounds these days and it’s ALL insulation. Despite this he manages to be quite adept and catching mice. Despite being so threatening to mice, Calvin is very friendly with people. (He knows how to play “fetch” too).

Georgio is a Persian (He’s brown, but my wife calls him “Mocha”). He’s human hunter. If you’re human he wants to bite you. He’s rather sly about it. He’ll pretend that he likes you and that he wants you to pet you. Then when you least expect it he sinks his teeth into you. He doesn’t bite me anymore, but that’s another story.

Then there’s Isabella. She’s a white Persian. She hates everybody. (The feeling is mutual). I once saw her hiss at her own shadow. She does not like to eat anything except for cheerios in milk. No tuna or liver for her. ‘Nuff said, she’s “different.”

So I’m looking at broken templates. Five thousand nested div tags. Great, this will be easy to figure out.

I hear something to my right. It’s Georgio. He’s found a mouse. He doesn’t know what to do with it. The Persian inbreeding seems to have rendered him “confused.” It’s not human. He doesn’t want to bite it. He paws at it a little and it runs away.

Isabella is nowhere to be seen. Not that it matters, she’s pretty much useless as cats go. She would never get her paws dirty and did I mention she only eats cheerios? (She does eat cat food occasionally, but she definitely prefers cheerios).

And Calvin you ask? Our resident mouse hunter? I quickly go to find him. He’s on the couch napping. OK big guy, I’ve got a job for you. I say the word “mouse.” His ears perk up a little and he licks his chops. He actually knows the word. Then he yawns. He’s not moving. I pick him up and feel his fat rolls consume my hands. It still amazes me that he can catch mice. I take him back into the kitchen where I saw the mouse.

After setting him down he just kind of stands there dazed and confused. “Didn’t you hear me? – MOUSE.” No can do. Apparently Calvin does not hunt mice when interrupted during his nap. The mouse is nowhere to be seen.

Calvin finds a nearby basket to resume his nap.

I resume working on the sites.

Calvin is still napping even as I write this. He must be saving his energy for later. Either that or he’s working on further improving his layer of insulation.

I still have a mouse in my house. To the feline species: You disappoint me.