Still Kickin'

Good Lord, I have not put up a legitimate post in a long time! Even as I type, I feel like Harrison Ford in "Regarding Henry" learning how to talk again, how to decipher a square from a triangle. But I am back, damn it. With wine at the ready, calico on my lap, and Jackson Browne on the speakers, I am committing to the act of blog. Does anyone really care? I wouldn't dare presume they do, but for the one person I can confirm, Janene in Wyoming! Janene, this one's for you!

So what's been happening...let me think....

I turned 30. This is a very big deal or so I am told. My birthday fell on a Monday so I, of course, was stricken ill (actually, I was coming down with a cold). I wasted the first part of the day futzing around on the internet, a morning much like those of my mid-to-late 20s. Then I took a nice, thoughtful drive up the coast and had lunch at the Malibu pier, tomato soup encrusted in a pastry shell, grapefruit juice and tea to combat the cold. I took my notepad with me in case I came into contact with any deep thoughts that had been recently reported in the vicinity. I scratched a few things down, but they were far from deep, held afloat by the water wings of expectancy. That was the thing about the whole ordeal, I felt like it was supposed to mean more to me than it did, the 30 part, I mean. I had planned to write this big post evaluating life as I saw it at such a benchmark age, a sort of "here's what I've figured out so far" type of deal. Then I realized my friends are all of similar age and it would probably be self-important to wax like the wise old man. And I could hear the older friends laughing, "Hey, look everybody, Mr. 3-0 is gonna tell us the meaning of life!" I will say this, for me personally, at the ripe age of 30, I feel like I know who I am, I know what I love, what I don't, I know how to appreciate things, small and large, rare and common, and I am never ever bored. That's very nice. The teens and early 20s got nothing on that. One of the nice things about those younger years are the sense of excitement and wonder about what might you become or how your life will take shape. At this point, it's not such a wide open question. Being an astronaut is pretty much off the table at this point, ya know? I do feel like I am capable of much more, but now there is a sense of urgency to get to it already. It's frustrating to think of what so many others have accomplished by their 30th...Kobe had 3 championships...Orson Wells had already made "Citizen Kane"...F. Scott Fitzgerald had already written "The Great Gatsby." Then again, "Annie Hall" and "When Harry Met Sally" were made by Woody Allen and Rob Reiner, respectively, at the shared age of 42. So there is hope yet. I gotta get going, damn it. Another thing I have realized, with no relation to my advancing age, is how conspicuously writing in a notebook or pad directly improves the service you receive. They always think you're writing about them.

After lunch, I got the best massage of my life. Ninety-minutes and I wanna tell you...this woman was a prodigy. She used her elbows nearly as much as her hands! When I walked out of there, I was a six foot pile of Jell-O swaying with the slightest breeze. My speech was slurred. Just awesome.

I returned home and was whisked away for an evening by Nicole and the folks for an evening of fine dining at Spago where I met Wolfgang Puck himself. It was a glorious meal, for sure, but I did feel a bit uncomfortable, like I didn't belong there and every person in the room knew it and was talking about it.

My dad gave me a really nice camera, one of his he wasn't using anymore. I've been really enjoying it so far even though I haven't really seen too much of what I have done since my friggin' back ordered card reader still hasn't come in. I'm thinking about starting a Flickr account because a lot of times I want to post pictures but it takes too long with Blogger and I don't want to pick 3 worthy of the effort out of 50+ pictures taken. File this under: when I have time(!).

I picked out my wedding suit tonight. Exciting stuff. It's really happening, isn't it?

Alright, that's all I got for now. NYE tomorrow, party to prepare for. Annual Freeze Your Ass Off Camping Trip on Friday. Perhaps Disneyland on Sunday. Oy. I mean, Woo-Hoo!

Next I shall post pictures and tell tales of my wonderful Christmas week in the Rockies!

Happy New Year, Cyberspace!

Photo Dump! (Or: What to Do When You're Sitting On Hold For 15 Minutes)

Loving kittens

The Major Award that sits proudly atop my TV thanks to my dear friend Lindsay

Went to a show recently and when they brought the bill, the little leather folder had an illuminated panel inside it! The future is now!

This is a sign that was posted on our fridge at work shortly after the cell phone law went into effect. No indication yet as to whether drunk driving or vehicular manslaughter are also against company policy in addition to being illegal.

My poor Mister when he was in the hospital

Testing out my phone's different photo features after seeing Jackson Browne at the beautifully restored Orpheum Theatre downtown

Uncle Pete! We went to the Cardinal & Gold tailgate before the....Arizona(?) game. He touched my hand...a hand that has not been washed since.

A lovely panoramic view of the almighty Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, home of the University of Southern California Trojans

Okay so how old would you say that guy looks? How about the girl? This was a situation of what appeared to be family friends not adjusting the physicality of their relationship as puberty enters the equation. This girl was all up on this guy for over a half hour. On his lap, whispering in his ear, playing with his cheeks, etc. etc. I'm not exagerrating. It made me uncomfortable. But her parents seemed to be fine with it.

These are the two self-righteous dipshits who arrived at the game midway through the 3rd quarter and seemed appalled that we were in their seats(!). As it turned out, our group had slid down one seat too far. Rather than making thirty more people to my left move, I just took the empty seat one row back. It was at that point that I realized there were no fewer than twelve empty seats to the immediate right of these gentlemen. What's worse--they left the game 15 minutes after getting there. I assume they could have been found making citizens' arrests for jaywalking on Exposition Blvd. I have a camera and I am not afraid to use it! Social Police!

Self-explanatory sky.