Two hours til 9

It was a wild party Saturday... when you have two soon-to-be 9-year-olds doing the wheelbarrow walk up the stairs at 5:30 a.m., you know it's off the hook. The birthday boy at one point had on a Ben Franklin wig, a clone trooper outfit and Margi Gras beads and was belting out 'Paparazzi.' Owen and his guests all said they had a great time.

Passing time in Afghanistan

I was listening to NPR on my way up to work to hear which Middle Eastern/North African regime would topple today and got drawn in by a different story.

The issue was raised about whether women in combat units would be a distraction; to comment, they interviewed a woman who had been in a small unit in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan charged with intercepting enemy communication. There was a lot of downtime on this mission, so the small crew would pass the time playing games. A particular favorite was throwing rocks at each other's crotches to try to get a rock successfully through a hole in the target's pants and hit his genitals. The interviewee stated she felt included in the camaraderie when the men soldiers asked if they could 'throw rocks at my boobs.' Things *may* have crossed a line, she went on, when the guys asked repeatedly 'if they could see my boobs.'

I mean, hey, I'm not always the most productive at work -- witness my blogging during lunch -- but you could probably fashion a pretty functional checkers set out of different colored rocks if you're really that bored.

Look at these lovely Valentines who took me out Saturday

When life gives you snow, make Snowasaurus

I didn't do this of course but I'm proud to say that our Westville neighbor did. We didn't want to ruin the shot w/ a human presence but he's about 6 foot tall at the top of his spine and is taking up a good chunk of a piece of land formerly known as a front lawn. Julie took me on a walk to see him in the middle of the night last week and it was well worth it.

Kay's erractic portrayal of men wreaking havoc with our collective psyche

We went from the Boston strangler in ad 1 to this next guy. Not only is he tolerant of his mate's deafness but is learning sign language (yet cloyingly humble about his impressive progress...you know she's put off by that...there's a subtle 'what's so hard about being deaf?' in his voice) and shelling out serious cash for jewelry. Where does this clown leave the rest of us?

I don't want to bias you

This is the Rorschach test of ads.

What happens next in this commercial?

Snowmaggedon turning to wintrymixmaggedon

seriously wtf? The wife and I were shoveling the roof tonight. that's not normal. But in our world, apparently it's more than normal, it's the prudent thing to do. Because ice on top of 2 feet of snow could break the roof. I don't know if that's true but there's something therapeutic about getting on the roof and shoveling... so desperate and irrational. It's like panic grocery shopping. Sure, I pass 38 places to purchase food between here and Waterbury and could walk to at least a half a dozen of those *and* I could make 27 lbs of beans and rice just with what I have in the house, but why not go in before the storm and start pushing people in line and being irritable with everyone if I have the chance?