A couple of blocks north of me is an area called the Italian Market. It's chock full of butchers, fish markets, produce vendors and specialty food shops. It's foodie paradise.

This afternoon, I was waiting in line to buy coffee at this place called the Spice Shop, which is run by a 60-ish Italian mama. Her middle-aged son was on the floor, trying to help out.

(She tells him how to make curing salt.)

Him: Okay, mom. I got it.

Mama: You're a smart boy, I know you'll figure it out.

Woman behind me to the son: She has to say that, she's your mother!

Son: This is a spice shop...you can't smell the bullshit.

Me: *guffaw*

Ordinarily, when life flings poo at me I just kind of hole up and seethe and gnash my teeth.

But you know what? I'm tired of that. Instead, as I had originally planned, I will go to Lee Harvey's to support Andrea and Jason and the rest of the Happy Bullets, because their music cheers me up. So there.

Oh...and there's about an 80% chance that I'll be transferring to Philadelphia sometime early next year. Woot! Keep your fingers crossed. Details are being worked out, but it's going to take awhile.

I'm in a frenzy right now preparing things to pack for my trip, which is a little more than a week away.

Now, of course I'm going to write and want to post photos along the way. Of course. I was thinking that I'd take my phone, but the camera on it sucks and browsing on it is not an optimal experience. Plus, god forbid I actually want to IM or send text messages to anyone - I'd get raped on roaming charges.

Enter spycedtx, who in his great wisdom reminded me that I have a Nokia 770 internet tablet. Anywhere there's wifi, I'll be set. And thanks to the Gizmo Project, I have VOIP and IM capabilities as well.

But just a little while ago, I remembered something.
Web censorship.

I did a little research, and sure enough - the Chinese government blocks access to many of the most popular blogging sites, including this one.

But thanks to Google and a simple search, I found someone who posted a quick way to get to Blogger through a non-blocked IP address (evidently it allows faster browsing than using a proxy program like TORpark). So that's where you'll find tales of my upcoming far east escapades.

URL soon to come.

Some people find his artwork really disturbing. Me, I love his goofy maniacal-looking monsters. They make me happy.

From his website:



*swoon*

Je l'adore.

I was a bit despondent when I couldn't figure out why my new digital piano wouldn't output sound to my headphones.

You'd think that it would be easy, right? 1) turn on keyboard, 2) plug in headphones. Not so, my friends. Not when it's a fancy-schmancy keyboard with no internal speakers.

Using a little logic, a midi amp that I bought a few years ago specifically for hooking up to my headphone jack-less stereo with my PS2 to play guitar hero without annoying my neighbors, and some 1/4" RCA adapters...PROBLEM SOLVED. Woot!

Now I can practice piano at home. So awesome.

Who knew that those 3 years playing french horn in junior high would come in handy later on in my life? I can still read music, but associating the notes with the correct keys is kinda hard right now.

...but I love, love, LOVE my canvas supermarket totes. Since my plastic bag knitting project has been taking so long, I finally broke down and bought 2 more at the store today so I will never, ever have to bring home stuff in plastic bags again.

Let me tell you, kids - those things hold a ton of groceries and they're way easier to lug from your car to your door.

*steps down from soapbox*

Having panic attacks during bad turbulence while flying...NOT fun.
And no, drinking a shit ton of scotch beforehand really didn't help. At all.

The only thing that stopped my heart from beating 50 miles an hour was slow, controlled breathing, repeating to myself that there was nothing I could do and just mentally checking out.

No more dicking around for me - for my China trip it's going to be Xanax all the way, my friend.

Even though I'm well on my way down that slippery slope to 40, I'm still in denial.

That is, until I look in the mirror after I haven't dyed my hair in awhile. It's not growing in grey, it's WHITE. I predict that soon I'll be rockin' the Lily Munster streaks.

It's pretty disturbing to me to realize that this year my dad turns 65, my mom will be 66, my brother turns 40 and I'll be 38. Argh.

I start piano lessons next month...woooo! I've always wanted to learn how to play, so I'm totally excited about it. I've toodled around with the guitar, but for some reason it just didn't resonate with me.

And for some reason I've been all-consumed with crafty projects as of late - I've got a ton of stuff I'm working on that keeps me busy at night and on weekends and it's wonderful. The creativity is flowing, finally! Things are good.

I don't know about you, but I hate plastic bags - you know, the flimsy ones you get at the grocery store. I know they're terrible for the environment and very difficult to recycle; it's expensive to do and most don't end up being recycled, anyway.

In an effort to help do my part for the environment, I buckled down a few months ago and bought a canvas tote that I keep in my car for quick shopping trips. It's awesome and sturdy, and I can pack a whole lot of stuff in it.

I knew I wanted a few more, but then...what to do with the bazillion plastic bags that I have crammed in a kitchen cupboard?

Lo and behold, a couple of days ago an article showed up in my RSS feed from Craft magazine called Plastic Bag Crafts.

Problem solved.

Not only can you knit and crochet the stuff, but you can also fuse bags together into a sturdy, sewable, canvas-like material by using an iron and parchment paper or newspaper! Who knew?

I've already started the knitting project - it's a tedious process to make the "yarn," but perfect for when you're sitting in front of the TV watching a movie. I'm going to experiment with fusing later today or tomorrow.

So for you crafty people out there who might be interested in doing the same thing, here are some links to get you started. The possibilities are endless.

Recycled plastic carryall

Etsy's fusing plastic bag tutorial

I don't know if any of you are fans of the site Passive Aggressive Notes, but it's gut-busting funny. It's not necessarily the notes themselves, but the photo headings and the comments that get me every time.

The comments for this one in particular had me rolling.

Hello, beautiful cover up!

Thank you, Mike Smith. Seriously - if you need any work done, go see this guy...he works out of Local Heroes Tattoo and 9 Eyes Studio. I couldn't be happier.



The first hour was fine, no problem. The last half an hour was pretty rough - my palms were sweating and my teeth started chattering from the pain, but it was well worth it.

Common sense says: when making pizza dough using a large heavy duty mixer, don't stick your hand in the bowl while the mixer is on to try to nudge the dough off of the dough hook juuuust a smidge.

Can you tell which finger got smashed?
That's not a shadow. It looks worse than it feels, though.



Disgusting, yet strangely fascinating.

From the time I left this morning at 11 to the time I got back at 10pm, I spent 4 hours of it driving. An hour to Ft. Worth for a funeral and back. Quick jaunt to the store, back to the apartment to change and back in the car to drive to Frisco for my nephew's birthday party.

The only plus side to it all is that I finally have my car back, so driving is oh so pleasant. Heated seats, my navigation system and satellite radio rule.

We had layoffs at work last week. Part of the reason is the loss of two major accounts. The other part - I'm convinced - is because we grew way too fast. I wasn't one of the casualties, but it scared the bejeezus out of me.

I love my job - the projects are endlessly fascinating, the people I work with are amazing and fun and I'm well respected. People fight to get me staffed on their projects. My year anniversary was in mid-November and amazingly enough I still enjoy it just as much as I did when I first started.

It's been a long road to get to this point. Seven years of pure web industry experience in pretty much every role on the creative and account management side of things. One year hiatus after getting burned out. Three years in the non-profit industry to purge myself of the stench of the uber-capitalist dot-com/dot-bomb times. Add into that mix the maturity that comes with age, some personal tragedy, lots of lessons learned and you end up with a total perspective change.

Work-life balance has always been difficult for me. It's hard to not throw myself into one thing with everything I have so that there's nothing left over for anything else.

But I have dreams about painting, about making kinetic sculptures. How do you artists out there train yourselves to get into that space where you can just settle down and create? How do you carve out that time? I need to learn.

The older I get, the more I dislike company parties. It's like being at work, but you're dressed up and there's free liquor.

The highlight of my company party this year was getting into a light sparring match with spycedtx and then being restrained in a choke hold by a male coworker.

I have been to a few fun ones, though. Here they are in ascending order:

3) San Francisco, Summer 2000, Wholepeople.com launch party
Okay, maybe not a "company party" per se, but it might have well have been because I think the whole SF office showed up. This was the launch party for an ill-fated spinoff of Whole Foods. I had to give a presentation while drunk. There was much running about, joyous yelling and the looting of schwag off of media tables. People were running off with wheels of cheese that were 3 feet in diameter. All this for an e-commerce site that went into the toilet about four months after we launched it.

2) London, December 2000, The Eve Club (Viant, London office party)
This was a medium-sized company party at a former legendary 60s strip club that was a favorite of Frank Sinatra's. Very swank. Sit down dinner, great food, fun people, lots of dancing on the amazing lit glass floor. I remember stumbling out to another party afterwards with my friends, somewhere in....Clerkenwell? Bah, I don't remember anything but more dancing. That may have been the night I fell asleep on the bus back to my flat in South London and woke up in Brixton. Then again, maybe that was another night...

1) Dallas, December 1998, somewhere around Lake Texoma (Big Theory office party)
The office party that will live in infamy. Because it was held at a resort and we were all staying in rooms there, it was no holds barred. Plus, end of year bonus checks were given out to everyone. Highlights of the evening: Gabe making an appearance in full Binky Rabbit costume (a full bunny suit with head), dancing on the bar; and the afterparty affectionately remembered as "Dickie's Dance Party." I'm not sure if I slept that evening/morning. spycedtx was there with his friend Jennifer, and they consumed more alcohol that evening than I think is humanly possible and yet still managed to survive.

Ahhh, the memories.

Week 9: Still no car
I wonder which will happen first - the expiration of the 3-month XM radio trial that I got when I purchased my car, or the actual return of my newly-refurbished car?

It looks like 'Bbl3blBaTb" but is pronounced "vizivatch." It means to call or send for, or to summon.

But upon first glance it made me think of the sound I make when I give my little nephew a tummy raspberry. Heh.

The only good news is that the car rental agency called on Monday to tell me that they were retiring my Pimpmobile, er...I mean Dodge Charger...from their fleet so I needed to bring it in to swap out.

So now I have a Toyota Prius hybrid! I'm lovin' the fact that it gets almost 50 miles to the gallon in the city. It's a little wonky from a design standpoint in that the hatchback obscures my vision from behind and the side front frames cause serious blind spots for me, but it drives really nicely. I wouldn't buy one for a number of reasons including the aforementioned ones, but I'm glad I'm getting the chance to drive it around. It's pretty sweet.

My under 12 boys' soccer team not only won their division, but also went undefeated in the Frisco tournament of champions qualifier. Our final game was against the team that beat us last time, and we decimated them 4-1.

Now we move on to the city championship tournament in December, where we'll play against teams from all around the Dallas area. I haven't the slightest clue how we'll end up doing and I really don't care. I'll be proud of them, regardless, the little snots.

Here are my boys. Can you guess who the troublemakers are?



Standing, from left to right: Connor (aka big Connor), Stephan, Grant, Andre, Nick, Sam, Connor (aka little Connor), Jake, Michael, Zachary.

Kneeling, from left to right: Ben, Blake, Patrick, Adam, Tristan, Leo, Louis.

If you guessed Sam and little Connor, you're right. They're clowns, but they both play their hearts out every game so I cut them some slack.

Leo is our resident badass - his parents are from Brazil, so it's no surprise that he's got mad skillz. Our speedsters are Stephen, Adam and Andre, who runs effortlessly like a gazelle. I hope that kid runs track when he gets older.

Ben and Blake are brothers; Blake is actually 2 years younger but he's always played on older teams. His twin sister likes to chase me around and try to tickle me. I know...awwwww.

I have a soft spot for Jake - he's got the sweetest face and beautiful blue eyes. I constantly want to hug him.

Patrick is our goalkeeper and a damn fine one at that. He could play select if he wanted to, easily.

Zachary is our special child - he's autistic, so it's a challenge to work with him, but he's been doing very well, considering.

Funny coincidence: big Connor's uncle grew up playing soccer and baseball with my brother. Both his grandparents were at the last game we played and seeing them reminded me of the hot summers of my childhood.

I look at this picture and think, when they get older, will they remember us with as much fondness as I remember all of the soccer coaches of my youth? I hope so.

I want my fucking car back. NOW.
I've about had it.