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Archive for June, 2007

Good times at the bar-bee-que

My coworker M- has her first barbecue at her new house out in Bolingbrook. I show up early because I drop my wife off in the morning and if I stop in the house I’m lost. Home means I’m never going out, not even to M-’s house.

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The deoderant strategy

I am constantly afraid of running out of anti-perspirant. I don’t know if it’s a fear of sweat, showers, or smell, but the fear exists at the top of my mind.

So the deoderant/anti-perspirant strategy goes something like this:

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Knocked Up, with or without the wife?

Let me explain the post title.

I saw the movie Knocked Up with my coworker T– today. He was running late, so when he arrived I was in a shadowy corner of the theater. The opening credits were starting, and it was clear that even though he was blinded by the light of the screen in the dark of the room, he was turning his head to find me.

Finally he gave up and sat down. I slid from my corner down the non-existent right aisle (just enough room for a slim guy like me to slip through) and two seats away. He didn’t know if he had fantastic good luck finding the row or if I was a Flip ninja.

But anyway.

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The end of summer?

When I tried to buy a PS2 through The Evil Social Networking site, I was offered my friend’s husband’s PS2, which I declined on moral grounds.

Soon thereafter, I received an offer from my cousin’s boyfriend, who lives even farther away from town.

I accepted.
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Happy father’s day

The Cult of Parenthood has yet to convert us.

My wife is happy for another year.

We survive.

Call me master

I finished my Master’s Degree in Library and Information Science this past May.

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Blogipation

Summer for teachers means we get to live.

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Digging for floor

My office is a wasteland. It’s the one place in the house where I have full reign to leave stuff messy, but even I get bogged down by the carpet of papers.

My wife started things off last week. She made neat piles where I just had indistinct masses that you could slip on. Now I’m in the process of finishing the job.

A few questions come to mind as I dig through the piles.

  1. When will I hit bottom?
  2. Will the floor melt when I touch it with soap and water?
  3. Who’s been living here all this time?
  4. Did I really buy that?
  5. And that?
  6. Does [insert generous friend's name] really want this returned?

So I’m stuck, hoping to strike laminate floor within the day.

Maybe I’ll be able to blog more when things get too deep.