High Roller

I've never been to a casino before. Yet another thing I have never done. Shocking. I know. So this experience was pretty high on my list of things I wanted to do on our trip to California. We convinced Grandma Shirley and Grandpa Chuck to accompany us. Let me first state this unequivically...if you find a group of people that you can sit with, in a crowded casino bar, and pass an hour nursing overpriced drinks while having a lengthy conversation about organic agriculture and enjoying yourself immenseley...you need to stick with this group.

Grandpa Chuck had overheard me bragging about my prowess at cellphone blackjack and was determined to get me to a table so I could put my money where my big mouth was. After watching the gentleman in front of us lose 10 grand in about 30 seconds, I decided that, perhaps, the tables were not for me. We found a couple of quasi-poker machines and Grandma Shirley and I proceeded to soak the casino for 7 and 2 dollars, respectively. We cashed out and headed home to eat many, many delicious meatballs. And that, my friends, was a damn good day.

De Plane!

Ok...it wasn't bad at all. Once we were in the air after takeoff, Kevin asked me how I was doing and I began to laugh hysterically. I said "I feel ok but it's hard to get past the fact that I am hurtling through the sky in an aluminum tube." What struck me most about air travel, in general, is the complete lack of glamour. I had always thought of air fare as an expensive proposition reserved for businessmen, wealthy people and those in emergency type "money is no object" situations. I guess that may have been true, at one time, but basically the full spectrum of economic and social class is now fully represented. And they were all sitting very close to me.

Leavin' on a jet plane

Tomorrow I take my first plane trip. Yeah...I know. It's completely inconceivable that I am 34 years old and have never once traveled by air. It's true though.

Invariably when people discover this, the first thing they ask is "Are you scared to fly?" I always answer that I'm not but as this long planned trip draws closer, I wonder. I mean what if I completely freak out? What if I am deathly afraid of flying and I just don't know it yet?

Anyway, I'm resolved to fake a calm, sophisticated attitude even if I have to breathe into a paper bag and chug down those little bottles of vodka every time Kevin takes a bathroom break.

I went upstairs this morning to wake the girls for church and found this:



And naturally, I ran back down the steps to get my camera.




The best part was the quizzical look on Katie's face after she woke up to find her back covered in drool.

"Waitress"

"And then I was addicted, baby. I was addicted to saying things and having them matter to someone."

This is the kind of movie quote that either bypasses you completely or leaves you sobbing in expression of complete joy.

Thank you Jesus.

Amen.

1450

One thousand

Four hundred

and

Fifty


That's the number of cases I have scheduled since July of 2007.


No wonder I'm so damn tired.

Authori-tay

After a week of observing lots of police officers (and no, I haven't been arrested...yet) I think I have come up with a pretty definitive classification system.

Patrolmen - These are the fresh faced cuties straight out of the academy. Some of them even ride bicycles. These guys are all about the 'serve and protect" thing. They will actually get out of their car and chase a suspect if they run. The majority of the ones I met were male and 90 percent of them reminded me of the little boys I used to babysit. Also, these guys never look comfortable. They're the only cops who wear the actual uniform which, frankly, contains too much stuff.

And I really did try to appear professional and mature, but every time a new one came in to testify, it took all my self-control not to holler out "Don't tase me bro!"

Deputy - These guys are very similar to Patrolmen only they're not as nice. I think the uncomfortable uniform is starting to get to them.

Investigator/Inspector/DEA Agents - This is the "James Bond" category of police officers. They're smokin hot. There I said it. They don't wear uniforms and they all appear brooding and angry like a character from a Bronte novel.

Detective - This is where the fantasy ends... Every doughnut consumed from the time they join the department take their revenge when these fellas make detective. They're also real mad most of the time and will become absolutely apoplectic if you happen to question them. Which, of course, I did :)

Baby kissers

Go look at this slideshow. It's the result of the author's quest to see if he could get his little girl's picture with all the candidates running for the presidential nomination. I can't choose a favorite but the Giuliani one made me giggle.

Sometimes I forget she's only nine.

So apparently fourth grade is the "Year of the Project" which means I have put in a lot of time helping Savannah with schoolwork lately. The latest assignment is a speech she has to give for 4-H. It can be on any topic. We were discussing it in the van this morning.

Me: What do you think you want to write about?

Savannah: I don't know.

Me: Well, it can be about anything. What are you interested in that you might like to research?

Savannah: I don't know.

Me: Why don't you do something about the political parties? (She's been watching primary coverage with me and has shown a lil interest.) You could do a brief outline of the genesis of the two main political parties and then briefly describe how Republicans and Democrats have come to dominate our political discourse.

One full minute of silence.

Savannah: I thought I might do something about dolphins.

Me: That could work too, I guess.

Happy New Year.

We rang in 2008




by letting the kids get sloshed






and then letting them set stuff on fire.






(And, yeah, it was just ginger ale and sparklers...but that's not how they're gonna tell the story at school)