A few thoughts as 28 years end, and year 29 begins…

So, Cy and I spent dinner tonight talking. After 28 years together, that’s still my favorite part of us being together. Usually we’re laughing and joking, but I even appreciate those times when we argue. Let’s face it, he usually comes around to my side sooner or later! (Or maybe it’s the other way ’round, but who’s counting!)

I love that when we chose to become parents, we both dedicated ourselves to her. I love how she reflects both of us, and I love how she stands up to us. I love how her sense of humor reflects both of ours, yet stands independently alone as her own.

Cy, I love how working so closely with you these past two years feels like a fresh start, without forgetting the past. I love how you encourage me to new challenges. I love that twinkle in your eye that first caught my eye, and I love that I know I will see it tomorrow, and again and again for the next 29+ years. I love that we’ve grown up together, and I love that I believe that we’ll grow old together.

Happy anniversary!

So, the key question is this:

Is “Dexter” being put out of my misery? Or am I being put out of “Dexter’s” misery?

There is a reason why for the past (n) weeks I’ve watched Dexter before “Breaking Bad”.

That reason? So that I would NOT waste energy screaming at the TV about how awful Dexter had become.

The ONLY saving grace in my life is eleven years old. Scott Buck, as a viewer of the show for 7 seasons, I deserve to watch some pain, some contrition. Instead, all I’ve seen has been safe, stable continuation of unbelievable premises. For shame!

At least Water White is going to stand up for what he is, and what he’s done. He’s a horrible human, but he is going to fight for his right to be human….

Not some lame caricature that resurrects himself with no connection to his past. Shame on you, Scott Buck. Had you cut that last lumberjack-off minute, you would have had a decent show. Shame on you.

And, yes. I expect the phrase “lumber-jackoff” to stick, and to apply to you for the rest of your career. You’re welcome.

It’s an axiomatic epiphany…

… But I know too many friends who are currently suffering. Sure, suffering is the human condition, but there should be reasonable limits, right?

Also, “Axiomatic Epiphany” would be a great name for a band.

What a day…How much can I learn from my daughter at a waterpark?

After an impromptu sleepover, we took G and a friend to Schlitterbahn. Between a lack of sleep, sheer distance, the energy of youth, thunderstorms, exuberantly potent displays of reliability, wrecks on the other side of the highway, stoplights under repair, road construction, long family conversations, t-mobile incompetence, and toll-road cronyism, it has been a very long, long day.

Important things I have learned today:

  1. G understands that “No.” means “No.” Even with us. Last night we were looking at the web site, she saw one ride we had dome before, and she said, “I don’t want to do that one anymore.” (It does shove water up your nose!) Today, she said “yes” but then changed her mind. After I had already gone down it. With her glasses in one pocket, and our cash in another, so I had no hands free to protect myself from the onslaught. I waited for the folks after me to make a loop around the “lazy river”, then went looking for them. Found them just as they were reaching the bridge. I wasn’t even mad. I’m glad she stands up for herself, even with us. I want her to be a strong woman when she grows up, so I’m glad to reinforce that “no” means “no!”
  2. There is one very strong indicator that I am aging out of amusement/water parks. I have no tattoos, and plan on none until I can marry in the state I live in. We’ll do wedding ring tattoos, just to prove to you breeders that you all are, in fact, dilettantes compared to us. (But don’t get me wrong — I still support straight marriage!)
  3. No amount of consoling can relieve G from the sound of nearby thunder. Even when surrounded by incredibly tall, incredibly grounded metal poles.
  4. Without time for analysis, I cannot distinguish between “The Illusionist” and “The Prestige”. I know that one has Bowie as Tesla, and one has a Phillip Glass score, but which is which? Beats me, and I’m watching one of them now. I cannot name it.
  5. There is only one person on the planet worse than estimating time than Cy, and that person is me.
  6. My daughter is a rule-follower (I knew that before.) Even through teenage-like rebellion and seemingly-endless negotiation, she chooses what is proper. We try to reward this behavior. She knows how to exploit this rewarding. This is the essence of “standoff”, and leads to very tedious discussions in the end. Factual arguments can sway her well, and she knows this pleases me, and leads to greater rewards down the road.
  7. I’m in trouble, as a parent. G knows me too well.

Cosmologist claims (suggests) Universe may not be expanding

Cosmologist claims Universe may not be expanding : Nature News & Comment.

I see lots of facebook friends “liking” science, but here’s the real deal:

Somebody says, “What if one of our fundamental assumptions is wrong?”

And science says: “Huh, cool. Let’s explore that! Maybe we can learn more!”

You never see that from religion. Just sayin’.

Also, a correction for the writer of this article: He (Jon Cartwright) says “… it can’t be tested.” You left off the word “yet” at the end of the sentence. There is a whole new generation of smart, inventive folks — more than ever before — willing to take years to discover subtle ways to test any theory. We may end up with a cat in a box with a cesium atom yet! I also take umbrage with the word “claims” in the title. Perhaps a better, less suggestive word would have been “suggests”, but hey, it got my attention, right?

Every time I hear the line “like the ceiling can’t hold us” I think of this:

<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyatt_Regency_walkway_collapse>

But then, I’m probably dating myself. And whenever I hear that phrase (dating myself) I recall the banter:

Dating yourself? How do you do that?

It’s simple. You just work yourself into a lather until you are beside yourself. The rest is an exercise left for the reader.

Can you tell I’m a little punchy tonight?

Oh, and it seems to fit the IE commercials quite well, TYVM.

An advance in domestic feline-canine relations, and much fur was shed…

Today, G convinced the dog that he can chase the cats with impunity, hissing and raised fur (and also our sofa cushions) be damned. What followed was 15 minutes of a rousing game of egged-on chase, which abruptly ended when a single claw was raised, followed by the most pitiful “welp” you can image.

It is truly surprising that they don’t all get along better, considering that the dog is a giant pussy.

I’m pleasantly surprised at how well some films hold up to the test of time…

Today, it’s Hannah and her Sisters. Specifically:

Gail: Two months ago, you thought you had a malignant melanoma.

Mickey: Naturally, I, I- Do you know I- The sudden appearance of a black spot on my back!

Gail: It was on your shirt!

Mickey: I- How was I to know? Everyone was pointing back here.

and

Frederick: You missed a very dull TV show on Auschwitz. More gruesome film clips, and more puzzled intellectuals declaring their mystification over the systematic murder of millions. The reason they can never answer the question “How could it possibly happen?” is that it’s the wrong question. Given what people are, the question is “Why doesn’t it happen more often?”

Almost makes being awakened at 3am by texts from work worth it…