Mystery Color

Okay ... any time you blow your nose and you don't recognize the color, you know something is wrong.

That is all.

Absolutely no California Dreaming

First off, this link about San Francisco legalizing prositution:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27306120/

What an abhorrent (pardon the ironic pun) concept. This, in conjunction with the possible rejection of Proposition 8, is the specific reason why I would never want to live in California, yet feel somehow civically responsible TO move out there and combat these insidious evils. Yes, I said it--"insidious evils." You're welcome to think what you want about gay rights and same-sex marriage. My opinion is that it's wrong, and I make no apologies for it. I also believe that God put men and women on this planet to procreate and replenish the earth. Further, I also believe that the family--man, woman, and children--are the core units of society.

A dad and a mom bring a balance to a family. A mom and a mom (or dad and another dad) don't. They just do not.

I have friends that are HUGE proponents of homosexuality and gay marriages. That's fine. Their opinions are theirs, and I don't intend to try to change their minds. What I do intend to do is toot my pro-Prop 8 horn as loudly and as adamantly as I can.

But enough about the gay marriage rant and tirade
This new Prop K thing might just also become a personal vendetta for me.

So This Is What True Fear Feels Like

I'm at work today. Typical, yes; however, the conversation on our walk back from breakfast was anything but typical. A buddy of mine told me that a little girl in his neighborhood died of bacterial meningitis the other day. He also said that the same little girl had been playing in their house earlier that day, before she started feeling sick and flu-like. Her parents took her to the doctor. The next morning, she was gone.

He told me that as we were walking back from our campus cafeteria. I immediately called spouse and asked her to set up doctor appts for the girls and herself. Yah, maybe I'm being overly paranoid, and yah, maybe I'm jumping the gun. Maybe I'm not. Bacterial meningitis is *highly* contagious, and I work with a guy whose little boy is now in the hospital awaiting lab results because he was playing with the little girl who passed away. Call me what you want. I'll err on the side of caution and fight to keep my wife and kids alive. There's something like a 15% fatality rate amongst children, less for adults. There's no way I'm risking it. That's a greater than 1 in 7 fatality rate.

Though having said all of that, weef is at home with both girls, both of whom are bouncing off the walls, full of energy and vim. Both with deep, gutteral coughs, both with runny noses. Yet they have the energy of a nuclear weapon. And about as much destructive force ...

I'm so relieved that they're hyper. Yah, they're messing up the whole house, but they're active. They're not lethargic. They seem okay.

We're still going to double check.

Guilty Pleasures

So, is it so wrong to be so heavily into Metallica’s “Garage Inc.” disc 2? I can’t turn this thing off. Also, I’ve been seriously into “… And Justice” and “Master of Puppets” for about 2 weeks. I feel like I need to grow my hair out about 2 feet, dye it blonde, and start growling at everything.

Just for fun, I downloaded all the originals. Bands like Killing Joke, Holocaust, Budgie, Diamond Head, The Misfits. Well, okay … not ALL the originals—just whatever was on the original 5.98 EP.

Ironically, the girls really think it’s funny to listen to “Helpless.” They get all dancy and start jumping around. It’s kind of funny watching them and listening to that particular track. Not sure why.

Which brings me to my next thought … how good a parent am I if I’m letting my 2- year old and 4-year old girls listen to Metallica?

Things to work on, I suppose ...

To Lee

An individual by the name of Lee posted a comment on my last blog. I have one question: Did my brog make you raugh?

If you know the answer to this, we need to find a way to get together. My wife's sister and husband are back from Portland, and we always talk about finding you and doing a bbq.

Then again, if this isn't who I think it is, then you're probably scratching your head.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed my blog!

No Rest for the Unbelievably Weary

So, I have this cold. Not a mystery as to where I picked it up from ... girl one goes back to school, germs spread around like peanut butter on bread, and sure enough, I get it. The beauty is that I JUST had a flu shot on Wednesday. How ironic is that?

Of course, I'm not the only one who's sick. EVERYone seems to have a runny nose. I guess I'm just the hardest hit: weef's cleaning the kitchen, apparently feeling "fine"; girls one and two are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, tearing into every toy they own, with no regard for "the clean-up rule."

And now, my petri dish of a second daughter just crawled over, barking like a puppy, and demanded to give me a kiss--a puppy kiss. I'm simply never going to get better.

But you know what? I'd rather be as sick as a dog (pun intended) and know that my girls love me than be healthy and wondering. Not that I *do* wonder ... it's just nice to have that licking affirmation.

More Dayquil might help. So might a long, long nap. I'm sure I won't get the latter, so I'm going to go get some of the former

And Then There Were Three

Lori has an all-day "girls day out" activity planned with a bunch of friends. Shopping, lunch, and a matinee play at some comedy theater. They're not going to be back until late this evening. That means we get a daddy/daughter day! Not sure what we're going to do, but we're going to do something! SomethingS! LOTS of things.

"Like blog?"

Shut up. AFTER I blog. Smart alecks ... all of you. :)

Okay, so right now, they're playing with a measuring tape, measuring everything: each other; the dogs; the tv; their kitchen set; plates; cups; the couches; our wood-buring stove ... they're insatiable. The beauty is that they have NO idea what they're actually doing. They know the tape goes in and out of the tape measure, and it has numbers on it. But it's so cute.

I think we're going to go to McDougals for lunch. They'll have a kids meal between them (yes, they eat that lightly), then they'll play on the doohickey for a while, then we'll come home and they'll sleep. Before that, thought, I think we'll go shopping. They LOVE riding around in the car carts. You know ... the fun carts for kids that have little steering wheels in the front that do nothing other than spin freely? Yah. I could push them around our local store for hours (don't ask how I know) and they'll eat that up.

Dinner. What to do. Mac and cheese, I suppose, but that's so bland. Maybe I'll grill them some hot dogs. They do enjoy a well-grilled dog.

"It's time now. My time now. Give me my wings."