This morning as I was taking Ratchet out for his AM potty break, I noticed that two of Selina's pots had been knocked off our patio ledge and were laying there broken in the grassy area just below where they normally sit. I told Selina about them when Ratchet and I came back in, but seeing as we were pretty much ready to leave we decided we would take care of it once we got back from work. I think we chalked it up to either the wind or squirrels, because both have knocked our plants down before.

So we went to work, yada, yada, yada. Once we got home, we made dinner, ate, then went to Barnes & Noble (Selina picked up The Bride's Essential Wedding Planner: Deluxe Edition and a copy of The Knot: Texas). We also made a stop by HEB to pick up some milk. Shockingly, we found that the milk shelves were almost bare. Damn. We settled for something other than our normal brand and headed home.

Once we got home and put the milk in the fridge, we decided to deal with the plants and the broken pots lying on the ground. Since we were going to be outside the apartment, I thought it would be a good idea to open the patio door and let Ratchet watch us while we cleaned up. When I opened the blinds and turned on the patio light, Selina said "Ryan...where is the other bike?"

That's correct -- some sons-a-bitches jumped onto our patio and stole my bike. I'm assuming that they knocked the plants over while heaving the bike over the railing. Granted it was a broke-ass bike, but that's besides the point. Some ass-clown of a lowlife once again invaded our lives...but the scary part is that it looks like they did it while we were sleeping mere feet away.

Anyway, I'd just like to point out that just as I've noticed before, these sorts of things seem to happen during the same time period when our apartment complex has contractors who employ day laborers and they are working on the buildings. I know I shouldn't be ragging on my own people, but my little theory has been proven twice now. This same thing happened back in July 2007 when my car got broken into. There were day laborers working on the building right across the sidewalk from us -- then a few weeks later, BAM, I ended up with a busted window and a gaping hole where my radio used to be. Remember my posting when I was talking about eating brunch at Chez-Zee when I mentioned that they were painting our building? Here we are a few weeks later and, BAM, we get hit again. Arg. I've had enough of apartment life.

Coincidence? Could be...but I think not. I personally believe that someone in the group is scoping out potential targets while "working". After watching for a week or two to get patterns down (because these thefts coincide with major renovation projects), this person know the schedules and know when a good time to hit would be. He goes back to tell his thieving asshole friends who come back and do the dirty work while his hands stay clean.

Bunch of bitches...

OK, so hopefully by now you've either seen my Selina Says Yes! posting, have been called, have been text messaged or have seen the update on Facebook (as anybody living in modern times can tell you that it is not official until it says so on Facebook): Selina and I are engaged!

So how'd I do it, you might ask? Since today was our five-year dating anniversary, we decided to go to Whole Foods and pick up things for lunch. In addition to the chicken scaloppini and side dishes that were our main course, we also picked up some flowers and a small chocolate cream pie (this is an important part, so remember it).

We drove home, heated up the things that needed to be heated up and sat down for lunch. After getting pretty full, I asked Selina if she wanted dessert. At first she said no, but I told her "Come on, just a little bit." She gave in, so I got up to get the pie. She tried following me into to kitchen and I had to shoo her off (sorry, baby). I walked back into the dining room, set the dessert down and waited for her to notice the ring. Her eyes got huge when she saw it, and I asked her to marry me. Needless to say, she said yes. Nothing fancy, nothing extravagant...just me, her and one of our favorite things -- dessert.



After all the laughing, crying, kissing, hugging and barking -- Ratchet was confused by the sudden rush of emotions we were showing -- we started making phone calls and sending messages. I only had time to post the picture of the ring on the website before we headed over to Selina's parents to celebrate and start talking about wedding plans. Seeing as my sister beat me (her wedding is in May 2009), ours will be at least a year away. But from what I've heard from friends and family who have recently gotten married, it's never too early to start planning.

Come on, America...it's our own damn fault that gas prices are so high. Too long have we lived with the fantasy that gasoline fell from the sky like water and with our obsession that "bigger is better". Now that gas prices have hit $3.50 a gallon, people who thought it was a good idea to spring for that SUV because "they might need to haul something someday" are paying through the nose for that predominantly rare convenience.

Stories are popping up all over the place about people bitching and moaning about spending $100 at the pump. My heart goes out to anyone who depends on their vehicle to bring in a paycheck (i.e. truck and cab drivers), but I have little pity for the person standing at the gas pump griping to the reporter about how much it costs to drop their kid (note the lack of plurality here), drive to work, leave work and pick up their kid (once again note the lack of plurality) before heading home to gripe some more about how much gas costs.

You know what -- tough shit. I have to deal with the same $3.50 when I fill up, but I guess I'm lucky because I only have to pay $35 for a full tank. Why? Because I actually purchased a vehicle that sufficiently meets my needs without going overboard. Yet I'm still paying $3.50 a gallon because there are people out there who don't understand the way our driving habits affect the gasoline market. I'm quite sure these are the same people who believe that only buying gasoline from Citgo or sending an email petition to the President is going to solve the gasoline problem. Speaking of which, if any of my friends send me one of these bastard-ass chain letters, be prepared to have your email address added to every midget porn mailing list known to man. Except for you, Jon, because I know I'd be doing you a favor.

In all seriousness, there are only a few things that can be done by ordinary citizens to help combat rising gas costs in the long run: (a) drive smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicles, (b) drive slower, preferably under 55MPH or (c) drive less altogether. All of these measures reduce the demand for oil, which in turn shifts the equilibrium price. But none of these increases your social status or gets you featured on an episode of Cribs, so I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for them to happen. We're Americans, dammit, and we have standards!

I noticed that Google has been indexing my site more often. Just a guess here, but it probably has something to do with the new format and the increased number of postings. Anyway, while I was looking at the logs, I noticed that the titles on the permalink pages all said the same thing -- which was causing Google to think that they were basically all the same page. D'oh! A few quick coding changes and the problem seems to be fixed.

Hopefully the Google Gods can find it in their hearts to forgive me and perform a little re-indexing in the next few weeks. Pretty please? With sugar on top?

In celebration of Selina's 24th birthday (which was on Wednesday), several friends and I took her out to eat at Buca di Beppo on Friday evening to kick the night off. We talked about Chuck Norris Facts while waiting for our Italian food to come out, gobbled down said Italian food, then had a few bites of some terrible tiramisu. Bleh. Way too much rum in that one. Besides the tiramisu, the food was great.

After leaving Buca we waited for everyone to gather so we could make the trek to 4th Street to continue our nighttime revelry. Thank the Lord Selina is finally starting to outgrow 6th Street. I mean, I guess I don't mind if we still go down there every once in a while, but I'm at the point in my life where I don't find hanging out with the college crowd as appealing anymore.

Anyway, we planted our butts firmly inside of Cuba Libre and proceeded to drink the night away. I'm not quite sure exactly how many drinks Selina had while we were there, but I think it was just the right amount. I'm really glad she had such a good time and I want to thank all the friends who came out to eat and/or drink with us.

Saturday was BBQ day at Amanda & Charlie's house. We took Ratchet with us so that he could meet Missy and Bayley, Amanda & Chuck's Rhodesian Ridgebacks. Although Ratchet was a little nervous at first while submitting to the obligatory butt sniffing at the door, he quickly loosened up and helped himself to whatever dog food was left in their bowl. Silly dog.



We ate, played horseshoes, played washers, watched the Spurs beat the Suns (excellent), played washers a little longer then busted open the bottle of Crown Royal - Special Reserve. I'd never had it with 7-Up before (Coke was always my mixer of choice), but it looks as though I've acquired a new taste. Good stuff.



After a shot and two nicely mixed Crown drinks, it was time to head home. I think Amanda and the gang were heading to her parents' house to watch the UFC match, anyway, so our exit was nicely timed. We came home, took a shower and then went to bed.

I was sleeping quite well until our upstairs neighbors decided that 3AM would be an excellent time to vacuum their bedroom carpet. Selina said she didn't hear anything, but it usually takes a nearby thunderstorm to make enough noise to wake her. Anyway, they finished up and I went back to bed.

Shortly after 10AM the real fun began. Since Ratchet was eating everything in sight at Amanda & Chuck's BBQ, he ended up with an upset stomach. Since Selina and I were both so tired from the night before, we woke up late. Not a good combination.

Just as I was getting ready to take Ratchet out, he made his way into the bathroom and peed on the rug. 12 hours of holding it was asking a little too much, and his little bladder just couldn't hold it any longer. Oh well, at least he was in the right room. We didn't get mad at him, because it was really our fault for sleeping so late. We decided to just throw the rug out...it was time for a new one, anyway. I took Ratchet outside where he proceeded to take the biggest and most colorful dump I've ever seen. Well I don't know -- it's a close tie with the time he ate the red glitter Christmas ornament.

Everything seems to be OK now. He actually ate his dinner and, other than just being a little lazy, he's pretty much back to his old self. Maybe next time he'll think twice before scarfing down everything in sight. Maybe not. Sometimes I don't think he's quite as smart as I believe him to be -- he is a blonde, you know.

You know, it's seems as though every damn day I get reminded of the fact that I don't have a Wii. Commercials, stores, co-workers buying Wii consoles like they were going out of style...you name it, it happens to me. It's like the world is mocking me for not dropping $300 and jumping on the Wii-bandwagon. Excuse me, but I've got a house I'm trying to save up for.

So why exactly am I bitching about not having a Wii? Well, besides all the awesomeness that naturally comes with owning a Wii, there's a little something called Super Paper Mario. Truthfully, I've never even heard of this game until today, but it alone makes me want to go out and choke-slam someone in order to get a Wii. Amanda sent me this little YouTube video that shows you all the cool things you can do in the game. Freakin' A!



I think it looks awesome. I like Mario, I like RPG-style games and I like puzzles, so this seems right up my alley. And even though Bowser is slow as all hell, I think I'd try using him as often as I could. Like the guy in the video said, HE CAN BREATHE FIRE! Now if there was some way I could get Mario to breathe fire, then poor Bowser would be sitting on the sidelines next to Princess Peach and her parasol. And since I brought it up, who calls an umbrella a parasol anyway? Crazy Europeans.

Anyway, if I had the money to spare (oh, and let's not forget that I would need a Wii in the first place), I would so buy this game. I think -- no wait, I know -- that nothing would get done around the house if Super Paper Mario entered our lives. Alas, I have neither the money nor the Wii, so I'm just going to have to sit around and wait for Amanda or Tanya to get this game and then I can raid their house for a weekend and hog the console.

Last night I decided that I wanted to brew some iced tea so that I could enjoy it at work during my lunch hour. Boy, I sure do love me some iced tea...and the sweeter, the better! Well, up until a point, that is. I don't want to get diabetes from a single cup.

Anyway, I'm getting Ratchet ready to go out for his evening walk/sniff/pee/poop/walk routine when I suddenly have the idea that I could let the tea brew while I'm out walking Ratchet. Genius! I'm basically killing two birds with one stone. I leave the tea a'brewing (it's a cold brew, so no fire danger) while Ratchet and I go outside so he can take care of business.

We come back in and I get ready for bed. Well, technically I posted the Wicked Unibrow story, then got ready for bed...but who really cares about the details. So there I am, getting all snuggled into bed and forgetting about the second bird I killed: the tea that was still a'brewing on top of the counter. In fact, it was a'brewing all damn night. I got up this morning, walked into the kitchen -- and realized this batch of tea was going to be mighty strong. But what the heck...I capped the container and lugged it to work anyway.

So here I am, eating my lunch and enjoying my tasty dose of antioxidants. Yes, this batch did come out stronger than my normal brews, but truthfully, it's not bad at all. Bottoms up!

Wow, there's one lady they keep showing on TV from the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that is really starting to weird me out. She looks freaky as hell, especially with that circa-1900's hairstyle, one-size-fits-most denim dress and wicked unibrow she has going on there. Guess she's kicking it old school with Jesus. But seriously: will someone please ship this woman some industrial-strength tweezers before her next interview?



Frankly, the whole group of them freaks me out. What's up with their blank stares, "Little House on the Prairie" style dresses and monotonic, robot-like scripted responses? It feels like the Children of the Corn grew up and moved to Eldorado, Texas.

Next to the milk, bread and turkey meat, one of the staple items on our weekly grocery list is bananas. Our HEB is normally pretty reliable when it comes to keeping the banana shelves stocked, but yesterday's shopping trip almost brought a tear to my eye.

There we were, making our way through the fruit aisle towards ye olde dependable banana stand when I stopped dead in my tracks. I was shocked -- there were only about 12 bananas left on the whole display, and maybe only half of them looked decent enough to grace my lunch bag. Egads! And I wasn't there alone, either. There were a couple of other scavengers circling the display along with me, shaking their heads in disgust at the sorry lack of available yellow fruit. It was a sad sight.

I spotted two bananas that looked pretty good, so I swooped in and grabbed them before the guy next to me knew what happened. As I sniped a third banana, the same guy turned towards me and gave the "but that was my banana" look with the big sad puppy-dog eyes. Fool! Little did he know that I've been slowly building an immunity to false puppy-dog eyes thanks to a year and a half of training with Ratchet. I knew one day it would come in handy.

I sprinted back to the shopping cart, ready to administer the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique on anyone who dared to challenge me for my precious yellow treasure. I threw Selina over my shoulder and barreled through the crowd, bananas safely stowed away. Crowds were cheering, babies were crying, statues everywhere crumbled...

OK, so it didn't exactly happen that way -- but the guy next to me did give me the sad puppy-dog eyes when I snagged those three bananas. I still laugh at him for trying. Better luck next time, sucker!

Today I worked with a co-worker on a problem that I had seen before and fixed -- but suddenly I couldn't remember how I fixed it. After pondering it for a few minutes, the lightbulb came on, I sprung into action and saved the day. Hooray me. Another lightbulb came on shortly afterwards -- why don't I post this on my blog in order to have a convenient place to store this valuable information while at the same time offering my knowledge to the world? Talk about a scholar and a gentleman...

Anyway, the issue was that Google Maps was not opening properly in Internet Explorer 6 (IE6). As illustrated by the image below, the website would somewhat come up, but it will sit at the "Loading..." screen as long as you care to stare at it and will have an overall funkiness to it. Surprisingly, Google Maps will load fine in any other browser you throw at it. Well, maybe not so surprising -- I almost forgot that we're talking about a Microsoft product here.



Taking a closer look at what's going on, you may eventually stumble upon the fact that IE6 is showing this error in the lower left corner of the page: 'GMapsApplication' is undefined. Huh? What the heck is that supposed to mean? Damn you, Microsoft and your arcane, non-helpful error messages! You'll soon learn that this error message is about as helpful as the "Check Engine" light on your car.

So what are you supposed to do now? If your computer is set up like the ones we have here at work (firewalled and using a proxy server), you might want to check the advanced settings in IE6 (Tools >> Options, Advanced tab). If you scroll about halfway down the list of options, you should come across a section called "HTTP 1.1 Settings" (see image below).



Now on our problem computer, the "Use HTTP 1.1 through proxy connections" box was UNCHECKED (as shown above). After CHECKING this box, DELETING COOKIES & CACHE and CLOSING ALL IE BROWSER WINDOWS, we were able to re-launch IE and successfully access Google Maps. Like I said earlier, hooray me.



So there it is -- my little contribution to technical support personnel all over the world. I understand that this may not help everyone out (since not everyone is firewalled and connecting to the internet through a proxy server), but hopefully someone out there will find this informative and helpful. Heck, it takes less than 2 minutes to do and doesn't require a whole lot of technical skill, so why not give it a shot. The worst thing that can happen is that you still can't view Google Maps, which would be exactly where you were in the first place.

All the waiting and wondering this weekend was for nothing. I hate everything right now (except for Selina and Ratchito). Sunshine? I hate it. Rainbows? I hate them. Fuzzy kittens? I hate them. Cute baby penguins? I hate them.

According to my memory (and my credit card statements), tomorrow will mark ONE MONTH since I last got my hair cut. For those of you who don't know, I normally get it cut about every two weeks -- three weeks at the max. Laugh if you must at my blatant over exaggeration, but I feel like a freaking caveman. This stuff is getting cut TOMORROW!

Although I was told that they SHOULD have had a decision made by Friday on whether or not I got the Desktop Team Lead position, I didn't hear anything about it. Now it means that I have a whole weekend to sit around and think about it. Sigh.

For some reason my brain decided that it didn't want to go to sleep last night. Lying in bed, my mind kept leap-frogging from one unrelated idea to the next. It was like watching a movie that had been edited horribly wrong -- and I couldn't walk away from it. Maybe it was because I didn't read like I normally do before I go to bed. I've heard that reading forces your mind to concentrate, which helps you fall asleep. Makes sense.

Of course now I'm paying the price for not being able to get to bed until 2AM. The clock at work barely moved at all, and at some points I swear it was running backwards. Seconds seemed like minutes. Minutes seemed like hours. Sweet Jesus, I didn't think the day was ever going to end. You can pretty much bet your ass that I'm busting out a book tonight!

Earlier today I received an email from Sears with the subject line "Get $25 from Citibank". I opened it up to see what all the hub-bub was about and was thoroughly confused. The body of the message has been reproduced below -- see if you can spot the problem:


Who the hell is Donna Robinson? Being the techno-geek that I am, this email smelled a bit phishy. For some reason I didn't toss it into my junkmail folder or delete it, which is my normal plan of action when I get something that looks suspicious. Guess I figured I'd write a posting about it later.

Several hours went by and I get another email from Sears with the subject line "Notice from Sears Card". I initially suspected that they were going to notify me of some scam being run tricking people into giving up their personal information with fake emails made to look like they came from within Sears. Well, I was wrong -- but the email itself made me laugh a little...


So it appears as though the first email wasn't a scam after all, but rather a case of someone not knowing how to write a mail-merge type function correctly on their outgoing marketing emails. Haha. Now I understand that you non-nerds out there may not get the humor of a significant coding error such as this, so feel free to mock me and send me items such as the Ultimate Pocket Protector, the Albert Einstein Action Figure or the Shooting Cubicle Alarm System. Any good nerd would appreciate any of these fine gifts!

I have my interview scheduled tomorrow for the Desktop Team Lead position over at the Service Center. I'm confident that I can do the job, but the thought of having to interview for the position still makes me a little nervous. Why can't they just do a good old-fashioned job promotion instead of making me interview for a position that is within the same department? Seems a little silly to me, but I guess they have to make sure I can handle myself under pressure. Whatever.

The Big Dance in San Antonio is finally over and I'm glad that Kansas beat Memphis. Seeing as my bracket was completely screwed when Kansas knocked North Carolina out in the Final Four, I was rooting for the Big XII team to take it all. Kansas sure came close to handing the game to Memphis, but I guess miracles still happen. Somebody buy Mario Chalmers a beer...

Well, it's getting late and I need to take Ratchet (aka Mr. Poopers) out so that he can, well, poop. Then it's time to hit the hay -- busy day tomorrow!

Today is the 75th anniversary of the repeal of the 18th Amendment which, for those of you who do not know, established Prohibition in the United States. Dang, it must have sucked ass for those 13 long years. Maybe that why it's been reported that there were over 1.5 million barrels of beer consumed during the first 24 hours after the passage of the 21st Amendment. If you ask me, they should make this a national holiday.


"I think this would be a good time for a beer." -- said by Franklin Roosevelt just after signing the 21st Amendment.

We woke up this morning, got dressed and rode with Smita to Chez-Zee for brunch. Brunch? What the heck is Ryan Tovar doing eating brunch? I'm not generally a brunch kinda guy -- in fact, this would probably be the first time I've ever actually sat down to a formally-scheduled brunch. But hey, I like food no matter what time it's being served.

I had the "Toasted-Pecan Belgian Waffle Platter" while Selina tried out the "Goat Cheese & Tomato Omelet" -- both of which were delicious, I might add. We live down the street from this place, which makes me wonder why this was Selina's first time ever eating there. Heck, I've only been there once before today. I thought about it all day and came to the conclusion that it could be attributed to two reasons: one, it's a little pricey and two, I definitely don't meet the whiteness threshold to be a regular customer. Seriously, all the white people in Austin must meet here on Saturdays and talk about things that only white people like and understand. I'm so glad someone decided to create this site; it answers a lot of my questions.

Since the contractors that the apartment complex hired to paint the exterior of the buildings decided to catch up on work today, we had little people running up and down ladders and generally making a big racket outside the apartment. Big racket outside = Ratchet going bonkers inside. Not a good thing. In order to avoid any further mess being made (he dug around in the plants we brought in from the balcony while we were at Chez-Zee), we decided to take Ratchet to Redbud Isle.

On our way there I convinced Selina to let me take some pictures of her and Ratchet in the bluebonnets off of Lake Austin Boulevard. I probably took about 20 pictures, 2 of which were good enough to keep. It's tough trying to get the little booger to look at the camera long enough to get a good picture.

As always, Ratchet got really dirty at Redbud and had to be given a bath once we got home. Selina thought it was funny that I dried him off in the Redbud parking lot with paper towels because we forgot a real towel at home. Anyway, after giving Ratchet his bath I decided that the cars were just too filthy to go another day without a wash, so Selina and I drove to the car wash and I gave both of them a good scrubbing. Now we have two fantastic looking cars sitting in the parking lot. Hopefully the trees in our apartment complex don't decide to bombard our cars with another 800 pounds of pollen and turn them that lovely yellow color they were before.

Don't ask me how it happened, but somehow the Kohl's up near IH-35 and Parmer Lane ended up with 2 pair of Levi's 527 jeans in my size. Good googley moogley! Seeing as I've been searching for ONE pair of 527 jeans for months now without any luck, this is like finding King Tut's tomb.

What did I do? Bought them both, of course.

Since Selina got her Canon PowerShot SD1000 back in January, the old PowerShot SD300 has just kinda been lying around on my desk collecting dust. Today I decided to give it a second chance in life -- the battery is plugged in and charging, the SD card has been reformatted and I have committed to start carrying the little booger around with me. It's not my Canon Digital Rebel XTi that I've come to love, but it's still a good little camera.

Tomorrow morning I have an Outlook/Exchange training class up off of Highway 183 at the New Horizons Learning Center. Boo to this training, because I have a slight suspicion that it's a sneaky ploy to press the desktop technicians into servitude under the training department's sphere of influence. I don't usually mind helping people, but I'm not too fond of the idea of being asked to train large groups of people.

The silver lining to this situation is that the training class is very close to where Selina works -- and it also happens to be near an Einstein's Bagels, which means that if we can wake up early enough, we can enjoy breakfast together. Hooray for bagels and coffee!

Here's a joke Amanda sent me that I'd like to share...

Two rednecks are out hunting. As they are walking along, they come upon a huge hole in the ground. They approach it and are amazed by the size of it. The first hunter says, "Wow, that's some hole. I can't even see the bottom. I wonder how deep it is?" The second hunter says, "I don't know -- let's throw something down and listen and see how long it takes to hit bottom." The first hunter says, "Thar's this old transmission here. Give me a hand and we'll throw it in and see."

So they pick it up, carry it over, count to three, and throw it in the hole.

They are standing there, listening and looking over the edge, when they hear a rustling in the brush behind them. As they turn around, they see a goat come crashing through the brush, run up to the hole with no hesitation, and jump in headfirst.

While they are standing there looking at each other, looking in the hole, and trying to figure out what the heck just happened, an old farmer walks up. "Say there", says the farmer. "You fellers didn't happen to see my goat around here anywhere, did you?"

The first hunter says, "Funny you should ask, because we wuz just standing here a minute ago and a goat come a'running out of them bushes doin' about a 'hunert miles an hour and jumped headfirst into that thar hole!"

Puzzled, the old farmer said, "Why that's impossible...I had him chained to an old transmission!"

I forgot to talk about something earlier that still has me scratching my head...

So there are these two Hispanic dudes who work on the cleaning crew in my building whom I usually chat with when I see them in the hallways. They both speak limited English, but it's not like we talk about really deep stuff. Mainly small talk like the weather, the upcoming weekend, any good games that happened to have been played. Anyway, one of the guys comes up to me and asks if I have change for a $5 bill. I tell him that I do. He points at me, says "It's the April Fool!" and walks away chuckling. Um, OK then.

So-oooo...either he got me really good and I just don't understand what the hell happened or he totally doesn't know what an April Fool's joke is all about. I'll take the latter.

I hate, hate, hate hearing people talk about the government not doing enough to help American families who are living in fear of losing their homes due to predatory mortgage companies. I hate seeing the whiny poo-poo babies on TV crying about "being given the American dream and then having it yanked away from underneath them". And most of all, I hate hearing Senator Hilary Clinton try and drum up campaign support by promising to help bail out these jokers. Look here, giving money to people who obviously don't know how to manage money is like giving crack to a crackhead -- it's irresponsible and it's not going to cure anything.

I really wish someone would tell these people what they really need to hear: tough cookies. Pack your shit, get out of that damn house, buy something only if you can afford it and read the fine print next time.

I'm sorry, but I feel no sympathy for these people. Why? Because they made irresponsible decisions and are now boo-hooing to the government to help them continue living a dream that they couldn't afford in the first place. And when the government pays out, who's money are they giving away? Mine. Boy that really rakes my ass. Selina and I are dying to get into a house of our own, but we are doing the RESPONSIBLE thing and are waiting until we can actually afford the house before we go out and buy one. Now I'm sure there are some people caught up in this mess who were genuinely taken advantage of, but the cases are few and far between.

As much as I hate to admit it, I like Senator John McCain's philosophy on the issue: "...it is not the duty of government to bail out and reward those who act irresponsibly, whether they are big banks or small borrowers."

John, if you weren't a dirty, stinking Republican, you'd have my vote.

Got a call from the doctor's office this morning to let me know that my x-rays came back negative for fractures. Phew! I guess I can keep my streak of 27 years without a broken bone going. Doc says I need to take it easy with the use of my left hand until about Thursday just to make sure the muscles/tendons/ligaments get rested properly.

In Waelder news, my dad called me yesterday and told me that we lost a cow and a calf on the farm -- very sad. We had a successful birth back on March 15th, but my dad says that this particular cow had trouble birthing the calf and it, for lack of better wording, got stuck. He was at work while all of this was going on, so by the time he got over to the farm the neighbor (who had called my dad to let him know about the trouble in the first place) had pulled the dead calf out and was tending to the mother.

The poor cow was exhausted from the whole ordeal and was in obvious pain. They managed to get her to the barn, but she staggered and fell multiple times. My dad said that he didn't know how long she was trying to birth the calf, but it was obvious that it was long enough for her to catch some sort of infection. After a few days of rapid deterioration of health, my dad had to [all of you animal lovers stop reading the rest of the paragraph] put her down.

So now we are out two head of cattle. Feed is getting expensive and the calf we lost (in addition to the one born on the 15th) was supposed to be sold in order to finance the purchase of a calf from a different stock and some feed. Now we only have one to sell.

Life's a bitch, I guess.