"Shit man, that's a runner"

One sloshed (pissed) guy to another as I passed them on a run today. I appreciate all forms of encouragement, including the bloke in London who yelled, "Nice legs, sorry about the face" to Leo and I. This sparked the “who has the better legs” debate. Today’s run was my first in ages, which is meaningful to those who know me. Leo has been running regularly to avoid fat-Buddha syndrome and was very encouraging over the phone the other day. Thanks mate!




A week before Leo and Claire's wedding, I was honored by Leo's request to be his tie caddy for the big day. Had he known I kept a store pamphlet for 15 years explaining how to tie a tie; there may have been a roster change. This was no ordinary tie, but one of those wild west gunslinger types that James Garner wore in the TV series Maverick (1957 – first episode).



No worries though, it went swimmingly and it was a terrific wedding, ripe with hecklers, big smiles and true friends.

First Drug Test

Had a drug test and physical today as a pre-employment hurdle for my new Federal Judge position. Everything went well, thankfully push-ups (press-ups for my brit buddies) were not on the menu.

Two parts of the drug test amused me.

#1 Strict instructions from the lab person, "Don't was your hands or flush the toilet." This goes against all house training I've received. To complete the anti-social trifecta, I left the seat up.

#2 My pee is 94 degrees. I can't seem to memorize my blood type, but this gem is etched in my memory. Stacy rightly pointed out there was some cooling between the deed and the thermometer.

Back!

Hello gang! It’s been too long and quite a bit has happened… let’s see if I can remember.

The best bit! Claudia and Sucad came to stay with us for 2 weeks. For those of you who haven’t meet them, they were co-workers of Stacy and I at our last employer. Add Mario, and you have a terrific department with perfect chemistry. Why here’s the group now…

Sucad	Claudia
Mario	Stacy
Brian	Sucad testing a text-heavy program

The rest of February and March was not as pleasant. Stating the obvious, job hunting is a torturous affair – highly not recommended. It’s verbal dentistry, eating broken glass, soul destroying, like swallowing a huge mouthful of butter on a first date because it looked like sour cream. The latter occurred on the first date of my life, but that’s another story. But alas, of late, I’m getting calls and interviews, which are going OK. Within a week I suspect my persistent whinging will cease and friends won’t have to squint reading my email. Thanks for all the encouragement.

March 14, 2005 to do: Sell your soul to the devil…

After 3 months of insisting it’s possible to live in Seattle without a car, I bought a car. One sunny day, lost in a familiar neighborhood (read 40), I passed a cute red 1977 Honda Civic in excellent condition. Small, cheap, fuel efficient, low insurance, easy parking, hey, I like it. I left a note on the windshield requesting the owner call me if it ever went up for sale. An hour later I got a call, a test drive, meet a nice family, paid $500 and drove away in a neeeeeeew car. Back at the apartment, I brought Stacy down to the garage for the surprise. I saw a “mini-like” Cooper, Stacy wished for a Mini Cooper, like from this millennium. I don’t have a picture yet, but if you look closely at this advertisement you can feel my joy.



That just leaves buying a TV, eating meat, smoking and going to a local sports stadium to round out my hypocrisy.

Silverfish

While doing computer calisthenics (low-risk computer tasks pre-coffee) this morning, I found this cutting-edge animation from 2000.

Stacy and I were leaving on a trip and clearly losing the silverfish battle in our London flat. We were tidy, but apparently word got out about my set-them-free tendencies gleamed from a pre-teen reading of Joy Adamson's book “Born Free”.