he only fights because his village needs him

Yesterday was the Surly Barnacle's birthday. He's the smug looking one in the Detroit hat. Trust me, he's usually much surlier (he is wearing a Detroit hat, after all). We had a good night, culminating in the post-midnight diner tryst. At some point, I decided to try to write down a few of the funniest conversation pieces we had, but the Diamond called me on it (Dude, great idea, because nothing's more fun than reliving that funny thing we just said...). See, I've always regarded the end-of-night diner run as one of the benchmarks for the truly glorious night out, and it just hasn't happened enough lately. It's a magical place, and not just because they play Crimson and Clover or Eli's Comin'. And you may be surprised that the magic just isn't there when you roll up for brunch or (gasp) dinner.

At some point in the evening, we decided that Wiretap, as our only man on the inside, needs to play American savior to a certain Bulgarian sister / potential immigrant. As far as I can tell, it would be good for all parties involved.

It's actually cold enough for it

This is my lucky hat. I got it in Chile for something like $3, and the seller insisted that it is made of alpaca. I have no reason not to believe him, especially since the pattern looks sort of like alpacas with their babies on their backs and chunks of their chest cavities missing. Since everyone knows that alpacas carry their babies on their backs, and have a common problem of chest collapse. Anyway, I show the knuckleball grip in the photo for two reasons: (1) scale, and (2) to detail that my lucky hat isn't actually very lucky. I used to wear it to softball, and one day with Krakatoa (now known as Wiretap) at the plate, I was taunting him with the old knuckler. Krakatoa was not impressed, and proceeded to hit the ball halfway to Cambodia. A month later, I was in left field with the hat, taunting Krakatoa once again with my trademark booty-dance. This time, he managed to launch the ball over my head, over the fence, lodged about twenty feet up in a tree. "That's my memorial to your little dance, [action]!" he proclaimed. I think there's a lesson to be learned in all this, but I've absolutely no idea what it is.

you'll find the action hero's handbook in my living room

Saw Casino Royale last night... I was entertained. Afterwards, it made me nostalgic, which ought to defy logic for a Bond movie. But I got to thinking about a piece I wrote about a war started by a woman from a Victoria's Secret catalog, sort of Helen-of-Troy style. At least, that's what I think it was about. I have a hazy idea that it was pretty good, and worth working on some more. But I'll never really know, since the only saved copy of it is sitting on my old computer... which I donated to Goodwill two or three months ago. So now it's in the possession of some random stranger. Or maybe just gathering dust in a warehouse.

christmas cards

I've wanted to send Christmas cards for the last couple of years, but like many things requiring organization, I never got around to it. I still remember how awesome it was to get a few Christmas cards from a family I stayed with in England when I was 12. So far this year, I took the first step: the Christmas card picture. I'll tag it with some cheesy line like "From my home... to yours: Merry Christmas!" I'm not sure if this is too corny to send to the little old ladies back in Womelsdorf, who were always so nice to me when I was a wee-bitty kid. And a part of me wonders how many people who receive it will ask, hmm, how come there's no girlfriend/wife? I remember him being such a nice young boy... I should probably just take Seltzer's advice and use less shirt in the picture.

Congratulations to Dr. GBC Mittens, who after 8(?) years of hard work, finally realized the dream. Or at least woke up from the dream, with a Ph.D. in hand.

I miss the water... every day

The best time of my life was when I was a canoe guide for a summer in Minnesota. I'm always surprised that my favorite period of life isn't mainly about a girl. (Truthfully, all that summer I wrote letters to a fantastic girl, and she even visited for a weekend... but I think my favorite parts weren't even about that.) And sometimes I wonder that my favorite period of life has nothing at all to do with my current job and future in astronomy. But maybe this isn't a problem: maybe these sorts of experiences are all about the perfect place at the perfect time, and maybe it was simply the perfect time in my life to be a canoe guide...

The picture is actually from my last water-trekking trip, in Pumalin Parque, Chile, last January. Juanfe, the guide, took this photo as I kayaked out of one of the fjords. I remember that after I finished being a canoe guide and I returned home to PA, I told myself that I'd go on a week-long water-trekking trip at least once a year. I've fallen somewhat short, doing 2 trips in the 3.5 years since then. I'd blame my career in astronomy, but really, the only reason I was in Chile to go sea kayaking was because I was there on a NSF-paid observing trip at a Chilean telescope... so really, I can't complain. Thanks for your tax dollars.

before the pilgrims, there was no alcohol?

I've spent the last 2 Thanksgivings with friends, on the other side of the country from my family, and I love it. I mean really, at this point, these people are my family anyway, except that it's not as embarrassing to drunkenly discuss sex. And even though the host & hostess didn't let me deep fry a turkey like last year, it was still a glorious holiday.

shf: Dude, look at all this food.
me: Yeah, there's like what, 15 trays of sides? Two turkeys and a ham? And 8 pies? So basically, everybody gets half a tray, a quarter pie, and lots of turkey and ham.
shf: I swear, this is my favorite holiday.
me: Hmm... maybe if we dressed up too, then it would be my favorite holiday.

Then I remembered that back in the day, we actually did dress up for Thanksgiving. I was an Indian, but the Pilgrims thought they'd be all clever and dress up like Chaucer's pilgrims in the Canterbury Tales. I thought the Pilgrims were pretty lame until they began sharing the Knob Creek. Just like on the first Thanksgiving...

bill murray v bruce lee

In the words of the s-process, I would call my trip to China an "enriching experience." It was filthy and crowded, with super-aggressive people trying to scam you or sell junk, and the cities smelled mostly like a mix of diarrhea and vomit. But every now and again, I'd find one of these grand, impressive parks and finally have a chance to relax. Really, the best parts of Xi'an and Beijing were those that reminded me most of Kyoto.