On top of spagetti...

Don't you hate it when you only remember a line or two from a song you knew as a kid? Now that I have a baby that needs to be sung to I'm finding that I know a lot fewer songs than I thought I did. So I take what I know and make up the rest. Here is a song that I've been noodling around with

On top of spagetti,
All covered with cheese,
I left my poor meatball
Sitting out in the breeze

It really looked tasty.
I'm sure it was good.
But I had already eaten
Much more than I should.

And so there I waited
Until I'd have more room
Until they chased me
Away with a broom.

I left my poor meatball
All covered with cheese
On top of spagetti
Sitting out in the breeze.

The Three Door Problem

So I tried to explain the three-door problem to my wife last night. The problem goes like this

"You are on a game show. The host shows you three doors. One of the doors has a fabulous prize behind it. The other two doors have booby prizes behind them. You pick a door. The host then reveals one of the other two doors as the holder of a booby prize. You are given the option of keeping your door or switching. Which should you do?"

The solution is that you should always switch. This is counter intuitive because you are looking at the two remaining doors and think "OK, now it's 50-50." But in truth its 1/3 - 2/3.

When you consider any one particular door A, you have a 1 in 3 chance of being right and a 2 in 3 chance of being wrong. By eliminating one door, the host gives you additional information, but he does not change the probability. Even if the host allowed you to pick both of the other doors you know that you would be getting at least one booby prize, but you would have a 2 in 3 chance of winning the car.

Here is a link to another explanation of the three door problem.

Karma

This weekend we took the train up to Chicago. When we got on the train to go up to Chicago, we found an open pod of seats with two seats facing each direction and took them. My wife was on one seat, I was in the seat diagonal and our bags and diaper bag took up the rest of the seats. The conductor came by and punched our tickets and said "We're expecting a full train, so you might have to give up some of these seats." We nodded and settled in for the journey. Another family came and sat in another pod of seats across the way. The other family was a single mother and her two well-behaved children. As we travelled north, the train took on more passengers, but never enough that there was a need to have anyone else sit in our pod. The other family got off in Joliet and we continued on to Chicago.

On the way back we got on the train after cutting the line (bad karma point number one). We got on the train and found a normal pair of seats with extra leg room in the middle of the car. Looking ahead there was only one pod of seats and there was a man standing in it. We debated taking the pair of seats but when the man moved from the pod of seats we pounced on it. No sooner than we had settled in, a three-person family came by the pod of seats and, finding it occupied, moved on to two pairs of seats across the aisle from each other (bad karma point number two). I felt bad, but at that point we were still more or less as justified in taking the pod as that group. When the four person family came by, I started shrinking in my chair (bad karma point number three). When we got to Joliet and the well-behaved family from the trip up got on, but couldn't find a pair of seats next to each other, I really started feeling bad (bad karma point number four). I pointed out what was going on to my wife and she started to feel bad about it too. But by the time we were going to clear some space, the other family had sat down. We got in to St. Louis without incident (other than being rather late), but we are sure that all of this bad karma is going to catch up with us sooner or later.

I usually try to be considerate. I get out of the fast lane when I see someone faster behind me. I try not to get in the right hand lane one a two-lane road when I know that there is someone who wants to turn behind me. I just missed a chance to be considerate to some people I don't know. And missed badly.

Nanook of the South

It has been a while since my parents saw Oliver - almost two months. While I call each week (what a good son), I've been bad about remembering to add pictures to the online gallery (what a bad son) and there is really only so much that you can get from pictures anyway. My wife and I were supposed to travel up a couple of weeks ago, but I screwed up the date and bought tickets for the wrong day. Long story short - this weekend we're taking the train up to see my parents who are looking forward to seeing us.

I don't know that the enthusiasm is matched from this end of the state though. My wife is not really thrilled with spending the whole weekend with my folks. She likes them well enough but finds them easier to take in small doses. Two full days is just about enough. To be fair we spend more time with her family, but generally that does come in smaller doses.

This morning I packed a bag of clothes for Oliver and I, a bag for my wife, the diaper bag stuffed to the gills with diapers, the day care bag, snacks for the train ride, lunches for work, my work bag, my wife's laptop, my wife's breast pump, the car seat, and my wife and son into the car. Some of that will be redeposited before we leave, but I still feel like I should pack some fish in case our polar expedition runs aground somewhere. We're definitely a far cry from a recreational jaunt to Chicago. I like seeing my parents, but it was much easier travelling when we didn't have to load down the car like we were never coming back.

I hope we like the train trip. This will be a bit of a new experience - on a train with a baby. If the trip goes well, this could be a journey that we end up taking frequently. At least until Oliver can sit still for a car trip - so until he's 25 or so.

Salesmen

I loathe shopping - all kinds of shopping. But I especially hate shopping for something where the price tag is not fixed. I think it is because I can see the salesman who comes up to me seeing only dollar signs and the one who has sold me something thinking "What a mark!"

My wife decided that we needed to get a new roof. So a couple of weeks ago we had someone from Thomas Construction come to the house to give us an estimate on a new roof. The guy has nice enough and tried hard to interest in shingles, but we're easily distracted and really just wanted a price. And eventually we got one, but it was too high. Imagine. And so he offered a discount, but the price was too high. Imagine. And he offered us a discount if we'd put a sign on our lawn, but the price was still too high. Imagine. And so he called his boss to offer us a super special deal. And so on. Eventually he offered us something that we decided to accept. I don't think I'd have found this so annoying except that we had already gone through the same song and dance with Thomas when we had them put a deck on our house last year. It's not that we are not happy with their work, it's just let's cut through the crap. Start us on the sign on the lawn price and you can still call your boss for the extra special discount. We won't feel cheated if next time it doesn't take three hours.

My wife decided that we need an entertainment center. And a local furniture store was going out of business. So we decided to go and check it out. While we are wandering around we came across a piece that we liked. We were sitting there talking about it when a salesman came buy and asked if he could quote us a price on the piece. He punched a couple of numbers and pronounced a price - $825. And then he grabbed the flier that we had brought with us and signed his name to it and started walking away. "Umm, where are you going with our flier?" Later he came back and asked us if we wanted to buy it. I said we had a different figure in mind - $500. He openly scoffed and said "We paid $450 for it. How about $625?" Oh, I see. I'm giving you a profit, but not as much of a profit. And you want me to give you more profit - just give it to you. Do I look stupid?

My wife decided that she wanted a new car. So we went to the Dean Team VW dealer. We had Oliver with us and I wasn't interested in car shopping so I plunked Oliver in the stroller and went to the grocery store next door. I figured that Lisa would test drive a couple of cars and then we would be on our way. But when I got back Lisa was not around. So Oliver and I settled in and waited. And eventually Lisa came back and wanted me to check out this one car. I shrugged and Da Boys went to check out this particular ride - a BWM (wait for it) station wagon. I think Lisa was taken by the BWM part and not so taken by the station wagon part. She seemed interested so we started the haggling process. The salesman kept us there and kept trying to sell, Sell, SELL us this car. But the clock was ticking towards the start of Magic Night. Finally we made a low-ball offer and got ready to go. They kept trying to Sell us the car on our way out the door. Four hours later. It turns out that Lisa was not as taken as she seemed with this particular vehicle.

The last couple of days I've been shopping around to refinance our mortgage and loans into a single statement. I understand that you might want to display your best rates, but the whole process appears to be a giant game of bait and switch. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "This is our rate, but we'll beat everyone else's rate." Fine, then if you want my business why don't you offer me a lower rate? I'd be happy to put a sign in my yard and let you call your manager. I'll even give you a bit of profit IF YOU WOULD STOP WASTING MY TIME AND MAKE ME A DECENT INITIAL OFFER.

I don't think it's a wonder that the first two cars that I bought on my own were a Saturn and a Prius. There wasn't much bargaining involved with those. I don't think I'm incredibly shrewd or calculating. If I had to be, I'd be the world's worst salesman. I just lack the capability to bullshit people. And that certain knack for playing on people's ignorance and uncertainties for a profit. Nope, couldn't do it.

An ordinary day

Disclaimer: not an exciting post, but it's what I'm thinking about.

I start my day groping for the alarm clock. It's some odd number of minutes before 5:00. My wife is convinced that setting the clock seven or eight minutes ahead or behind gets her up in time. For me, it's too early to do any math - the clock is going off and it's time to get up. At this point I survey my wife and child (mental note: I'm a lucky guy). If the child is fussing, then it is time for a pre-breakfast (mental note: wash hands) diaper change. Otherwise it's off to the kitchen for a breakfast of two eggs, two slices of canadian bacon, and a slice of whole grain bread with some spicy bean dip on it and a glass of milk.

If I'm lucky, I manage to make it downstairs without stepping on or otherwise tripping over our fat cat, who is up and mewling. The fat cat never misses a meal. Or misses the chance that we might relent and feed him early. Or misses that the skinny cat didn't finish his portion.

Now that I've successfully finished my breakfast, it is upstairs for a shower and a quick change. My work attire is usually some variation on sweater and jeans during the winter and polo and jeans in the summer. Our company has a policy where the back office folk can buy a "Jeans Pass" (aka donate $20 to a charity) to wear jeans during the week - best $20 I spend every month.

If I'm lucky it's now about 5:30 and it's time to leave the house. I drive 30 minutes with little to no traffic to the office located near the Missouri Wine Country. It sounds scenic, but it is really just remote. As I'm getting in in the morning, it is just turning light in the sky. The building is much too bright at that hour, but like a fly to the bulb, I'm drawn in.

The early part of my morning generally consists of wading through my email and browsing my websites. By the time everyone else gets here, I've run out of procrastination material and have to launch into my day. 10:00 is snack time which consists of an apple and a cheese stick. 11:00-11:30 is lunch time which I've either brought with me or fetch from the cafeteria. Either way I'm generally eating at my monitor.

By the time 3:00 rolls around, I'm getting done with my day. I shut down my computer and grab my bag and coat on the way out the door. I don't strictly need to have a bag with me, but it is a good place to leave my pager and ID badge so that I don't forget them each day. Besides the bag is a good place to stow print outs that I'll read at work or print out at work for home.

Walking out of the door, I pop on my sunglasses and hop in my car. I'll tune into a sports radio station for some meaningless chatter on my way to pick up my son. I'll call my wife to let her know that I've left and that she should expect us soon. I stop by the day care and go in to pick up Oliver. I sign in and walk down the corridor to the infant room. I'm not entirely comfortable with the day care center so I try and sneak up to see how things are when I'm not around (I realize that this is a fallacy since they know that I'm usually arriving about now but ...). I pack him into his car seat and take him out to the car.

I call my wife and let her know that we are on our way. I pull into the parking garage in front of my wife's office building and she gets in the car. Oliver and my wife get to spend some time together and I catch up on the day's events with my wife as she tops off the baby. Then Oliver and I go home and my wife goes back to work. When we get home Oliver and I have a couple of errands to do from emptying the diapers and putting away the unused bottles of breast milk from day care to checking my personal email account. For the next two hours, it's father-son time. Depending on the weather, we'll go for a walk or lie on the living room floor. Sometimes it's great and sometimes he is fussy and won't eat. Usually by the time Mommy walks in the door, both of us are glad to see her.

I may have made something for dinner by then depending on how cooperative Oliver has been or I may have to whip something up while she gets some Oliver-time. If it is a TV night, we'll watch TV. Otherwise I spend some time running or engaged in one of my many hobbies broken by calls to change diapers. By 9:00 it's time to go to sleep. Depending on how tired everyone else is that may or may not happen, so the rest of the night is a tug-o-war between familial responsibilities and the 5:00am wake-up call that doesn't get moved back. And then I sleep.

Sick

It started yesterday at work. Gurgle. Rumble. A bit of nausea. I'm sitting with a co-worker as she explains some process to me. A little more nausea. "Maybe it was something I ate", I think while eyeing the corned beef and cabbage that I had brought for lunch. "Did I not cook it long enough?" More nausea. I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. I'm standing in the men's room at work waiting for the inevitable. It occurs to me that anyone walking by will just think that I'm standing in the men's room for no particular reason. I start washing my hands. And the feeling passes somewhat. Back at my desk, I call my wife and warn her. Oops, she has already finished her lunch of corned beef and cabbage. "Well, if you feel sick head home." Back to the process. Rumble. Gurgle. Nausea. Excuse myself. Back to the bathroom, but to a stall this time. I know I'll feel better if I just throw up, but I can't make myself do it. Screw it. I'm heading home. I explain that I'm on the verge of un-eating my lunch and that I need to go home. I start heading home. I call my wife. She tells me that she'll pick up our son from day care and that I should just go home. More nausea. Maybe a little fresh air. MORE nausea. Uh oh, pull over, pulllover pover open door here it comes RETCH Houston we have lift off. At some point some I'll have to clean off the door.

I slept for most of the rest of the day and night and day. My wife however came home with a sick child to a sick husband. The sick husband was not much use in helping take care of the sick child. But my wife is a trooper and now everybody is starting to feel better.

I don't mind being sick, but I hate telling people about it. It's the same about being hurt. I guess there is some sort of implied vulnerability that the caveman in me resents. Either that or it doesn't seem real until you have to tell someone.

The part of this illness that I most disliked was the nausea. It's almost like the music from Jaws. Duh Duh ....................... Duh Duh..............Duh Duh..........Duh Duh....Duh Duh...Duh Duh duh Duh Help Shark! I would almost like to just be surprised like "Surprise! You're vomiting!" rather than the two hour build-up. I guess that would have been better for me, but I can see where that would be worse for my co-workers. "Yeah, explain that to me *YAWN*"

Peeking

I'll admit it. In this particular case, I'm a peeker. I put something on my page so that I could make sure that I wasn't the only one reading my blog. I don't know why exactly but I really needed to know. So thanks!

Running

I am a runner. Yes, that means that I'm one of those who will go for a run without having to chase a ball or have a ravening dog snapping at my heels. It means that whenever anyone tells me how far away something is I do two mental calculations - how long it would take to drive there and how long it would take to run there. It means that I don't think that 70 is an ideal temperature to be outside (too hot) and that 50 is not a bad temperature to wear shorts (just right).

I've been a runner for a long time. I started in grade school when I realized that, while I liked playing sports, I had TERRIBLE hand-eye coordination. Since my parents made me walk the mile and a half back and forth to school every day I developed some endurance. When I got to high school I found a set of sports team that allowed me and my terrible hand-eye coordination to compete - cross country, wrestling, and track. I was good at all of these but never outstanding. I could run a 2:00 800, a sub 5:00 mile, a 17:00 5K, and run for distance until I got bored.

I tried to run cross country and track in college, but I hurt my shoulder and never got back off the bench. I ran with friends, but never long enough or regularly enough to stay in good shape. And I discovered beer. Gradually I got lazy and fat. I played roller hockey to stay in shape, but being a goalie does not do much for cardio-vascular fitness. And some time went by.

Then my wife decided that we were both getting fat and out of shape and that we needed to diet and exercise. We looked around at some of the different programs that we out there and latched on to BodyForLife. From a runner's perspective, the workout was somewhat challenging, but dull. To keep up with the regimen we did all of our running on a treadmill - BORING! I was used to running with cars and sidewalks and people to look at. Not that the people at the health club weren't diverting to look at, but there was little variation in the program. Eventually B4L burned out, but the seed was planted.

After the BodyForLife experiment, my wife decided that she wanted to run a marathon. Just something she wanted to do. So I shrugged and said sure. And we started training for the St. Louis Marathon using the Non-Runner's Marathon Training book. It was good for us at that point because it was full of "Anyone can do this" statements. I wouldn't recommend the book for someone training to qualify for Boston, but for someone who just wants to finish the book is golden. My wife and I finished the marathon, but more importantly for me was that I started to feel like a runner again. The last couple of years my wife and I have trained for three and a half marathons and helped some of our friends complete their first.

I'm starting to feel like my body can do anything that I want it to. I'm definitely not as strong as I'd like to be or should be, but I can drop out and run a 5K or 10K whenever I want to. Coming up in April I'm going to run the River To River relay with some friends. I'm looking forward to it.

Onward and outward

Culinary Master

I've always liked to cook. When I was younger I made experimental sandwiches - PBJ and Oreo cookies; PBJ and Chips; PBJ and salad dressing. Not every sandwich was a winner, but I learned what worked. As a hint salad dressing was not a winner. I also made milkshakes. And when I ran out of ice cream, I found that jelly was an acceptable substitute. My mother did not and subsequently the blender was hidden away and lost.

I still liked to cook. When I started dating and was hanging out with my girlfriend at the house, I'd try and make soup. Not that soup was sexy, but it was something that I knew how to do. My Irish ancestry told me that "Boil it until its mushy" was a good way to get soup started. And so it was. Eventually I got the whole flavor concept down too.

When I was in high school, my father had some heart trouble. Up until that point he had been a double-fisted salt and pepper man. But after his hospital stay he was forced to use other spices that didn't contribute to his sodium levels. And so began our exploration of the spice cabinet. Some of the spices had not been used since my parents were married years before. Others like basil and parsely had been frequent visitors to our palates. My mother was content to restrain her spice levels adventures to black pepper, so it was really just the two of us. My father and I tried them all and discovered that we liked spicy food.

Over the years, I've continued to cook resulting in some memorably good meals and some other memorable meals. One of the memorable meals was the infamous Yellow Meal: corn, potatoes, chicken, and lots of curry. The entire pot was, well, yellow. It was difficult tell exactly what was on your fork without careful inspection. The group that I cooked for had a good laugh and I learned to cook with colors too.

Since I've been married, I've taken over many of the daily cooking chores. Sometimes my wife likes it. Sometimes she has to just grin and bear it. But usually when we want a fancy-schmancy dinner, she does the cooking. I can do a fancy-schmancy dinner, but that would require careful measuring and recipes and stuff. Where's the fun in that I ask you?

A surprising number of men that I know know how to cook. I'm not talking the "BBQ-master" stereotype so often associated with the words men and cooking. These are guys who both know how to cook and enjoy it. And despite all of my earlier trials and trevails, I would count myself to rank highly among them. Not highest, but high. But this weekend I met my match.

Our friends Witty and DQ had a baby a month ago. My wife and I thought we would go out and hang out on Saturday. We called and said that we'd come over and bring some dinner. DQ said that it was quite alright - we didn't need to bring dinner.
"Nonsense, " I insisted.
"No, really. We're okay. We're already making something. You aren't vegeterian, are you?"
"No. Err, can I bring you anything from the store?"
Pause. "Maybe a frozen pizza."
"Deal."
We arrived to find them in the process of getting the ingredients ready for dinner. Witty was zesting the lime while DQ held the baby. And then DQ was preparing the sauces while Witty nursed the baby. And the whole while I kept looking around their kitchen at the wonder that they were creating - and on short notice mind you - and realized that this was the true culinary master. And later after the sauce had been thickened and the rice prepared and the meat beaten with a mallet and cooked, the proof was truly in the pudding.

And so I salute you DQ, Culinary Master.

The Terrific Race in St. Louis

This is meant to be somewhat of a thought experiment, somewhat of a dream, and somewhat of a plan.

Okay, so the Amazing Race (hereafter AR) has the title trademarked, so we'll call ours the Terrific Race (hereafter TR). I was thinking of the Super Race or the Spunky Race or the Swell Race, but let's allow ourselves to be only a little bit silly. The TR needs five elements: locations, tasks, catch-up delays, alternate modes of transportation, and Phil (or at least a good Phil stand-in). The back office (if you will) needs people to call to answer phones and be at clue sites.

Locations are probably the easiest part of the planning - just pick some St. Louis landmarks. The Arch. Busch Stadium. The Dome. Savvis. The Brewery. Forest Park. The Zoo. The Science Center. The MUNY. The City Museum. Odd museums like the Dog Museum or the Fields Toy Museum. The universities. Ted Drewes. The airport(s). Union station. Malls. The Delmar Loop. Washington Avenue. The Central West End. The Landing. Historic St. Charles. Bevo Mill. Dental Health Theater. Brown Shoe. Bowling Hall of Fame. Cathedral. Lemp Mansion. Tower Grove. Any other suggestions?

Tasks are the hard part of coming up with a good TR. Since we don't have an unlimited budget, we can't have people jump from planes or row across the Mississippi. Most stops should have an associated task whether it be a detour or a road block. Get a clue from someone at the top of the Arch. Take the brewery tour. Eat something huge at Ted Drewes. Knock down XXX pins at the Bowling Hall of Fame. Run a mile on a track. Buy a set of products from the store. Any other suggestions?

Catch-up delays are an important part of the whole race. In order to make sure that everyone has a chance to win, you need to insert time-delays into the race. In AR, they frequently get to a site and have to wait until it opens. Ways to simulate this in TR include Brewery Tour start times, Arch tram schedule, Metrolink trains, and restaurant/store opening times. While I think it is a good idea to have some delays built into the schedule early, in the later game you have to let the cream rise to the top. Any other suggestions?

Alternate modes of transportation are necessary to give the game that whole AR-feel. If you're driving around in a car the whole time you miss the feel of "There goes the train and now I'm going to lose." So places that you can only go on foot and trains have to be added to the flow of the game. But I can't think of other modes of transportation that wouldn't be grossly expensive. Any other suggestions?

Finally TR needs a Phil-alike. While I would be happy to perform the honors, a local celebrity would add the required panache.

The back office is another concern. Depending on how you want to run it, you can have a back office giving hints on time-delay or you can have the clue sitters call in the status of teams as the teams arrive. Either way you would need access to several numbers for people to call in to each manned by a person. And then you need the clue sitters.

I've done something like this before. TR is much more straight-forward than Midnight Madness. Midnight Madness was like AR but with cryptic clues that led you from place to place and no tasks. Maybe it is all do-able.

Hmmmmm.....

TV nights

In some ways it's sort of sad that certain nights have become TV nights for my wife and I. On the one hand, we use Wednesdays to get together with our fellow blues in a red state (Sarahlynn and Paul) and watch West Wing and Alias. Taken as a social outlet, it is not that bad - Sarahlynn and Paul inexplicably cook for us every week (really, we don't mind cooking, guys) and we get to spend time with some of our favorite people. Granted, sometimes we postpone TV night until later or watch the tapes, but for some reason it is more fun in the pseudo-moment (Thanks TIVO) of it all.

West Wing seems like a show that is trying to unJump the Shark. When Sorkin left the show the scripts started going down hill. The dialogue just doesn't have the same snap to it. If Josh and Donna hook up, then WW might find itself off of my TV watching radar. In the mean time I get to pretend that the Bush presidency never happened. What a beautiful world...

Alias is a show that I had seen previews for, but wasn't really interested in. Then a friend lent us the DVD sets. There is no more sure-fire way to hook someone on a TV show than to give them an entire season to watch in a single sitting. So now we're Alias people as well. In general terms the plots for Alias remind me of D&D campaigns - you're a vertitable superman compared to mortal men who can do things other men only dream of while combating an evil cult bent on implementing a doomsday scenario cooked up by an evil genius. Oh, and you have been chosen by prophecy to be a key player in the final battle. Then the party goes out on missions to gather doo-hickeys that are important to the cult... And it doesn't hurt that Jennifer Garner is hot.

Tuesday is more of an anti-social, guilty pleasure because Tuesday is Amazing Race night. We're not big reality TV folks. I don't think we saw much of Survivor or its ilk when they were hot. Now that they're not, we really don't see them. But AR draws us in every season. So far we are 0-3 in terms of our favorites winning the race, but we watch nonetheless. I think this is one show that we would drop everything to do in a heartbeat because we think we could win. In reality, we'd probably end up sniping at each other while cruising to an early game elimination. But it seems like it would be fun.

I think the other reason why I like AR so much is that I try and imagine putting it on in my home city of St. Louis. I have a list of sites that the players should see, a list of tasks that give them the flavor of the city, and some previous experience doing an event like this. The only thing that prevents me from getting it done is laziness and the fear that I would build it and no one would come. But it would be fun, though...

A hockey fan already 

Diet

Last year after we got back from Italy, my wife and I decided to go on a diet. We had tried BodyForLife and had had some success, but honestly I was not looking for an exercise program. Sure I looked good, built muscle, and lost weight, but it was also a major pain that took up much of my free time. Having openly scorned Atkins for the Cheeseburger-No-Bun scarf machines, we decided to try South Beach.

Some folks refer to South Beach as Atkins light. The summary is a two-week induction phase of no carbs followed by a good-carbs only phase until you reach your ideal weight. The meal plans seemed doable and even tasty. And with an induction phase of only two weeks, the deprivation was not severe.

The first couple of days were a bit torturous. It seemed that everywhere I turned someone was eating a candy bar, some ice cream, or a sandwich. Or some pasta. Or a hamburger bun. And here was me and my salad. I compensated somewhat by having larger portions of salad and by the fourth or fifth day, the cravings had passed somewhat. Not magically disappeared, but dissipated. I wasn't complaining in part because I was eating healthy options and in part because I'm just not that finicky.

When it came time to switch to phase two, we were more than ready. We started mixing in some fruits and low glycemic index carbs. Compared to the first couple of weeks it seemed like the palate of available foods had expanded dramatically. This phase was not without challenges. I have a propensity to overuse certain foods which nearly caused my wife to ban couscous from the house.

I managed to keep up Phase Two until September. During that time I felt an increase in energy. I was able to start exercising again (it helped that it was summer). People noticed that I had lost a lot of weight. From the time I started until I fell off the wagon I lost 35 lbs. But by September I was getting sick of picking around the meat, avoiding alcohol, avoiding sweets, and in general being good. And so I decided to stop dieting.

Between September and January four things happened which caused me to put back on the weight. First, I injured my calf muscle and couldn't do the running which would have enabled me to keep in shape. Second, my son was born and I stayed with my wife at home for a month. During that time I felt guilty going out for a run on my own. Third, the weather turned cold and miserable - not ideal circumstances to start an exercise programa. And fourth, I was buying and eating food that could be eaten at all hours of the day with one hand - Pop Tarts and candy were the chief evil. Gradually I added back on the weight. I kept telling myself that as soon as the needle on the scale crested 180, 185, 190 that I would go back to being good.

After my birthday this year I went back on the diet. I was cresting 205 and didn't want to see 210 again. I am going to do the River To River Run in Southern Illinois in April and wanted to get in shape. The weather is getting warmer. All these reasons are good ones to go back to eating well. I've been fairly good - I'm back to 190-192 and running again.

But I'm going to venture off the diet again. I'll still be a good boy in terms of avoiding things that I know are bad for me. But I've found that the diet is easiest when everyone in the house can go on it. My wife hasn't yet decided that it is time for her to lose weight and it is difficult (if not a bad idea) to diet and nurse at the same time. When that time comes, I'll be ready. And likely a couple of pounds heavier.

Magic night

Tonight was Magic night at my house. Unlike some of my other gaming nights, this one has not been scheduled for a regular time slot. So whenever I play, I tend to make the most of it. Tonight was no exception as Mike, Jorge, Eva, and I played from 6-1:30 more or so uninterrupted. And I loved it.

I used to play more back in the day. I was introduced to the game during my sophmore year in college. I'd get together with a couple of friends from school and while away a few hours bashing each other with creatures. Good fun. But then my addictive nature kicked in and I started buying lots of cards - easily two to three times as much as everyone else. And I would read the Magic related newsgroups for deck ideas. I'd make people offers that they couldn't refuse for cards that they really didn't want to part with. Gradually people stopped being interested in Magic. And there was me with my burgeoning collection and no one to play with. I kept up with Magic and bought cards when new sets were released. I graduated and got a job. Life moved in.

Then I got a new job. The folks at my new job used to play Magic! And they would be interested in playing again, but not in a money-to-burn environment. So I sold them on limited play. WE'd buy a couple of packs and milk them for all of the play value we could get. And then we'd buy a few more packs and add it into the pool and so on. Every so often we'd play with other cards, but usually with just this small set. We added a couple of new players and life was good.

And then I got a new job. People here don't play Magic. And so I don't play as often as I used to. So Saturday night was great! Even if I kept getting my head kicked in.

Honesty

The other day the consultant at work said to me, "I notice that you seem to have a problem with me." And I replied, "Well, first I'm really stressed out because we have so much to do. And second, I'm uncomfortable with how much hand-holding it takes to walk you through one of these issues." Well, at this point she went off the handle at me, yelling about how I didn't respect her, something about common decency, and by then I had gotten to my cube, put on headphones and tuned her out.

It wasn't a nice thing to say. It wasn't an easy thing to say. But it was an honest answer. I am honestly uncomfortable with how much effort it takes to watch her do work she is assigned. It's not that I hover over her like a micromanager. She comes to me and asks questions again and again. She's been with us three months and the level of independent work has not gotten better yet. Maybe it doesn't help that she is the least charismatic person I've met. It's not just that she is unattractive (and I work in IT), but her entire personality is one big hodgepodge of repellent from her nasal, cracking voice to her lurking out of sight until you turn around and she's right in your face. Uncharasmatic but productive we've got and we like. Charasmatic and unproductive - well that's usually upper management and we've got those too. But neither is an especially hard sell.

The thing is that I talked to everyone in my group and no one disagrees with me. They may not have said it, but it doesn't mean that they weren't avoiding giving her work so that they wouldn't have to deal with her. But I'm the bad person until her contract is up.

Honesty is still the best policy, right?

Turning 30

A couple of weeks ago I turned 30. After taking stock of where I am, I'm pretty happy with the results. At 30, I'm happily married with a new baby. The baby is happy, healthy, and a joy to be around. I'm an unexpectedly competent father. My wife and I own our own home. I am employed at a job that I don't despise and we make enough money to have a comfortable lifestyle while not accruing debts other than loans for capital expenses. I have a number of good friends that I see regularly. I'm healthy and in passable shape. I have a number of hobbies that I enjoy doing. Life is good.

Now if I could just remember that on Mondays