Blair, Wright, and The War on Terror
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/30/2006 11:59:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/29/2006 09:52:00 PM::
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Here's a few more things I require...
A new post from Life In The Pumpkin Shell, because they are always filled with whimsy and pictures
I need to find out what happened to Laura's BonTon blog which was down when I checked earlier...damn those servers...it's bad enough I just can't drive to her house and give her a hug anymore because she's so far away, but to be cut off by probably some nerd in a server room...makes hulk mad....HULK ANGRY...Hulk calming...hulk enjoying cupcake and a latte...hulk...good.
There was a news report on CTV tonight that apparently cereal is now added to things that might kill you.
So....let's review our list of what can kill you:
smoke
fire
earthquakes
violent crime
meat
eggs
milk
nuclear weapons
the terrorists
water
SUVs
not driving an SUV
air
no air
clowns
a midget hopped up on ludes
the President (but he just has others do it for him)
an angry member of your family
an angry member of someone else's family
an angry girlfriend
an angry wife, who's angry at the girlfriend
drinking too much
smoking too much
eating too much
Vegas (where you drink, smoke and eat too much)
crayons (it's a long story)
a herd of rampaging buffalo
OJ- the juice AND 'the Juice'- that's a two-fer
and now cereal
there's more but I now have carpal tunnel which can't kill you...
yet
I haven't seen the new list.
Posted by ron st.amant at 9/28/2006 10:49:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/27/2006 09:12:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/26/2006 04:55:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/26/2006 12:48:00 AM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/25/2006 10:46:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/24/2006 06:30:00 PM::
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This week, in a nutshell...craaaaaazy
Shelley and I had a wonderful time at the Jays game (as you can tell I DEFINITELY had a good time...woohoo)...ahem...where was I??
Oh yeah. Shell almost caught a foul ball, it came whizzing by our table but was tackled by a very zealous Yankee fan. Shell was happy to finally see her baseball boyfriend Derek Jeter, and she almost stormed the field when he got hit by a pitch...she probably would have tried to give him mouth to mouth-
"He's not unconscious ma'am, he got hit on the wrist"
Anyway, she drowned her sorrows in a sack of Twizzlers. I could tell the way she chomped them she was rethinking her choice to marry me when she could have a shotrstop for the Yankees. Twizzlers replacing whiskey as a drug of choice to drown out the inner screams. Oh well, I might not have his looks or his money...but then again I don't have his looks or his money.
I console myself with the realization that he probably couldn't make her laugh the way I do. I mean he's too coordinated to fall down the stairs, or trip and fall over the dog. (that's always gets a big laugh). At least I haven't found her, yet, sitting up in the middle of the night watching sports highlights from the YES network and slowly replaying him stealing second to see his butt...though I'm fairly certain she DID mention his butt at one point that night, but I've blocked it out...trauma says I.
But that little trauma was NOTHING to compare with the single worst moment of my life which happened Wednesday evening.
I made it to class early and I really had to use the restroom. I wasn't sure where it was, but I saw the signs pointing to the bathrooms and I ducked inside. Now the idea that there were no urinals did not immediately light in my head (and for those who are mentally reading ahead you know where this is going but bear with me). I opened one of the stall doors and stood there and did my thing, and I noticed a box mounted on the wall that read "For Sanitary Napkins". This would be the point where one would hope that "the clue" had tapped me on the shoulder and said "Hi"..but still it wasn't fully formed. It was there in the back of my brain but got crowded out by thoughts like "ah this is an old building" and "maybe this is one of those that serves both" except those usually have locks on the door. Such is the logic that did not as yet slap me square in the head.
As I started to open the door though and saw in a flash a woman standing at the sink it hit me.
Oh dear God I'm in the Women's Bathroom.
Panic.
What do I do?
Walking out now will just frighten the poor woman and screams of "Masher" will flood the Physics building. (Yes, 'masher' because my brain works like its the 1930s...it comes from watching too many "Thin Man" movies).
I decided to wait her out as it were. So I stand in the door to the stall and think about how I'll have to rush out and yet be calm at the same time. The rule being if you are somewhere you aren't supposed to be, pretend like you're supposed to be (it's an old backstage at a concert concept that has served me well).
As I'm waiting though a second woman enters and tries the stall door where I'm hiding, terrified. It's then that I realized because I was thinking about making a 'bolt' for the door, the more pressing 'bolt'- the one to the stall door shielding me from embarrassment and perhaps a stain on my police record- is anything but 'bolted'.
She pushes. I...push back.
She shoves. I'm built line an offensive lineman honey..you ain't goin' nowhere.
She finally tries the next stall.
Now is my chance. No one in the sink area. Coast is clear...ish.
I hurry to the door, which is an inner door, then to the outer door.
As I'm just about to breathe a sigh of relief for a clean getaway, and thankfully no arrest warrants, I open the door and am greeted by, basically, MY ENTIRE CLASS waiting in the hallway for the preceding class to let out.
But here's where I become...smooooooth.
Without even looking up, really, or making ANY eye contact, I hustle around the corner as if there was nothing wrong at all, please move along, you did not see what you just saw...Freedom...Horrible Horrible Freedom.
Winded, red-faced, and feeling sick to my stomach there was as yet one pressing problem...I needed to wash my hands! And I still didn't know, obviously, where the correct gender bathroom was.
Luckily for me this building is built with hallways going all over the place, so actually when I just continue to make left had turns I'll wind up back in front of the room I'm supposed to go in. As I turn down the backstretch of this obstacle course I notice ahead of me the Men's Room. The only problem is...it's right there in THE hallway where the people I'm trying to avoid are still waiting (hey I was off by only 1 door...I should get points for that).
I decide that the only thing to do is wait until they go into class, then slip into the Men's Room, wash up, and then hope that when I walk into class I'm not the subject of boos, catcalls, and hysterics. So I wait. and wait. and wait. I read all the science experiments in the glass cases...apparently a couple of dudes are trying to determine the physcial properties of something and prove that something does something else...I don't know...I don't read science geek. It had pictures though.
Well as you can probably tell, I managed to escape my plight and as yet have not had to register as a sex offender or anything. I made it though class and no one seemed to cast any raised eyebrows my way (at least that I saw...but then again I was staring at the ground the whole lecture).
One thing is for certain- I know where the men's room is on the first floor of the Physics building...bet Derek Jeter doesn't.
Posted by ron st.amant at 9/22/2006 08:14:00 PM::
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With as sick as I've been lately, you would think I'd be taking it somewhat easy on myself. Well...you'd be wrong.
The weekend was just insane. Everything was geared toward Gracie's brithday party coming off without a hitch. Shelley and I were worried that we wouldn't get the house in order, and also that the weather was going to be very uncooperative. The end of last week was supposed to see the sun slowly come out and improve things but as we sat downstairs Saturday night things just didn't look good.
"How will we fit 30 people and 5 kids IN the house if it rains tomorrow?"
I told her not to worry that I would promise her to make the sun come out before the party. What hubris eh? But I wasn't going to have clouds and rain and chilly air ruin my baby's party.
So as promised at noon on Sunday the sun came out. The temp went up and we have an absoultey lovely day. [you can follow the Flickr link at the left, or click on the picture to see more of the photos].
I tried to stave off the worst of my cough and pretend like I wasn't running a fever but by the time I went to bed Sunday night I was a mess again.
Monday I tried to get out of the house and find some quiet time to work no my Imperial Russia readings. But I had my playoff game so I rushed back home to make dinner, feed Gracie and change for my game.
Here's where the weather paid me back for my hubris on Sunday.
It started pouring rain about 4:30. I kept checking my team website to see if the league had called the game but every half hour was the same...nothing.
So at 8pm I'm gear up and drive out to the field. Sure enough we are a go. And I spend about 2 and a half hours in a steady rain with the wind bringing a chill to my damp jersey.
The good news is we won (8-6) so we keep playing another week. The bad news is I feel even MORE under the weather than before.
I did manage to get an appointment this afternoon with my doctor, and last night I didn't cough as bad as I had been, but I'm still feeling it.
Shelley was given 2 Club VIP seats for the Jays-Yankees game tonight so since we've got our resident babysitters for one last night we're actually going out on a date...so I don't care if I'm in a coma I'm going to damn well spend a nice evening alone with my wife (alone being a relative thing when there are 30,000 people in the stands).
I've recently loaded (or am loading) up a few other films I made to my You Tube account so if you'd like you can go to Ron's You Tube and check them out. I've still got a few more I have to upload.
Also I promise the next post will be funny and full of snark...because I'll make sure to drink cough medicine beforehand!
Posted by ron st.amant at 9/19/2006 01:13:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/15/2006 08:58:00 PM::
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Gracie's First Year!!! What an amazing roller coaster ride this year has been.
One minute you think you know everything in the world, and the next minute they are handing you this little person and sending you off into the world...what no manual??
No.
It's just the two of you and this little bundle of coos and cries.
Some how the facade of big strong tough guy is shattered when you hold this tiny being in your arms and she starts to suck on your pinky.
There's the first time she smiles at you. The first time you make her laugh. The first time she gives you a kiss. The first time she calls you 'Dada'.
I wouldn't trade this year for all the gold in the world- when I look at my wife and daughter sitting on the floor together, reading a book or playing 'peeks' I'm just the richest man in the world.
Virginia Grace, I love more than you can ever know. You make your Daddy so incredibly happy.
Happy Birthday little bug...and watch out, the tickle monster is coming to get ya.
Posted by ron st.amant at 9/15/2006 01:28:00 PM::
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In the last week I've been scanning in old photos taken before our lovely age of digital cameras (thanks to the people in the digital studio at Robarts for the endless time on their machines).
Looking through them, the bulk of which was taken in San Francisco, I've just been terribly nostalgic for the strange nomadic life Shell and I led back then.
Which is strange since we both pretty much HATED San Franicsco.
Yesterday we were driving home from Toronto, (Gracie was being watched by my parents so we were alone- a rarity) and the afternoon was bleak, foggy, overcast- basically what the weather is like in SF most of the time.
Traffic was a nightmare trying to get out of downtown and make it the few blocks from her studio to the highway, so we decided to just turn down one of the side streets and go as far west as we could and skip as much of it as possible.
The whole scene, of the little Toronto neighborhoods, clouded over with mist, and the back streets...well it just had this flashpoint memory for both of us. We actually started to make the same point to one another simultaneously.
Life back then wasn't exactly carefree, and Shell's project really threw her for a loop, but we did manage to have some fun.
Taking Dixie to Fort Funston was the high point of our week- the Sunday drive was always welcome and Dixie would just get so excited when she smelled the beach as we got closer and closer.
There were the nights we wandered around to go to a party and tried to find parking in that god awful city. Or when we'd cruise out somewhere for dinner and then go see a movie (like the night we went to the famous Castro theater to see 2001: A Space Odyssey in its namesake year re-release- they had a pipe organist in the theatre who played before the show...just cool). There were the hikes up Bernal Hill to an amazing view, and the midnight drives to the Krispy Kreme store, and the hours of watching Buffy tapes cuddled up in bed with Dixie snoring away on the floor.
We can't get any of those back, and all we have are memories now. I'm not sure we fully appreciated the freedom we had then, and I certainly wouldn't trade anything we have now to go back, but I do wish we had that house we lived in...very nice Victorian place. Also I wish we had Fort Funston, and some of the friends we had there...like Ian (Mr Ian Greeb).
Posted by ron st.amant at 9/14/2006 05:58:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/12/2006 01:48:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/11/2006 05:23:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/11/2006 03:33:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/10/2006 09:30:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/10/2006 04:32:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/09/2006 01:05:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/08/2006 02:54:00 PM::
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Posted by ron st.amant at 9/08/2006 11:17:00 AM::
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