Good morning how are you I'm Dr. Worm.

One of the benefits of being a grad student is that you are allowed to check books out from the library for a semester at a time. Then, at the end of the semester when it's due, you can just check it out for another few months if you need to. One drawback to that is that it's a lot of time in which something can be misplaced.

I've had one book for the better part of a year. I use it regularly, and should probably just buy my own copy, but as they say, why buy the cow when you get the milk for free? (oh, that's not what that saying pertains to? hmmm, I'm confused.) Anyway, while I was working on the written portion of my comps (not to be confused with Mein Kampf), I'd come across a few other books that had been cited and appeared to be useful sources for me to use, so, I checked those out as well. Then, sometime in early January I took everything back to the library.

Or so I thought.

I got a letter from the library saying that the cow, I mean the book, was overdue. Knowing that I had returned it a few weeks prior to the letter, I went to the circulation desk and filled out some paperwork to have them extensively search the library so that they could find it.

Nothing came up.

I got another letter telling me that they had searched for it but couldn't find anything. They told me I should once again search my house, car, etc. just in case I had misplaced it. They also said that if it didn't turn up then I was going to have to pay a replacement fee. That made me upset. I went back to the library and told them that it hardly seemed fair that I was going to have to pay to replace a book that they had lost. They weren't very sympathetic. After all, they probably hear excuses for this kind of thing all the time, but this time it was me. I'm never wrong. I stopped short of telling them they were incompetent, but it was definitely implied.

Another week went by and I found the book. It was tucked into my laptop case from when I flew to Massachussetts for my friends' wedding. Rather than swallow my pride and admit that I was wrong, I was going to just pay the fine and keep the book. Unfortunately, I'm broke right now and can't afford to do that. Plus, they add a $35 processing fee to the overall cost of the book. I figure if I buy it myself I should pay the cost of the book and no more. So, I took it back this morning.

When I turned it in I did what anyone in my situation would have done. I lied and told them that my mother had borrowed it without asking.

So what if it is genetic?

Female Friend: I'm going to be cutting back on the amount of sugar I eat.

Me (sarcastically): Why, because you're so fat?

Female Friend: Because it's just not healthy.

Me: I should cut back, but I'm not that worried about it, at least not until I end up with Adult Onset (Type II) Diabetes. I guess that's likely considering the amount of sugar I eat.

Male Friend: I don't know. I think they're saying that's all bullshit. It's not just about how much sugar you eat, it's more about having a bad diet in general. It messes with your blood chemistry.

Me: I heard once that it's about a certain ratio. You know, once you pass a certain girth for your height you become susceptible.

Female Friend: Really?

Me: I think so. I knew a guy who got scared because he knew someone else who got it, and that's what that guy's doctor said, so the guy I knew went on a diet and lost a bunch of weight.

Male Friend: It's all about the spare tire. I'm getting a good start on mine.

Me: Yeah, me too.

Female Friend: Not me. All I've got is the fuckin' female pooch. God damn uterus or some shit.

Spoken like a true lady.

He has a mistress she's Puerto Rican and I heard she has a wooden leg

In addition to the comments on the previous two posts, I've received emails and text messages from some of you. Two people converged on the theme from the Brady Bunch, as I received that in a text message and in one of the comments here.

I thought I'd post the others for the rest of you to see as well.

Text Messages

• She's a hotty . . . when's the wedding date?
• Lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek
• I never will forget the way you looked tonight

Email

"Oh my gosh. I HAVE LOVE HANDLES. I WOULD NEVER, EVER WEAR A BIKINI WITH A JACKET WITH MY LOVE HANDLES FALLING OUT...
I thought that you were just being mean.
You need to move, far, far away...
She has your address."

I would just like to say thank you for your all your love and support during this difficult time in my life. I think I may have PTSD.

I promise not to mind if you go your way and I go mine

I was going to scan the letter I got and post it today so that you all could read it. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out that well so I'll just transcribe it for you instead. I'm particularly fond of the punctuation (or lack thereof).

[Native Minnow],

Hi

Im sure your wondering who I am and why Im writing you.

Im a friend of [oldest brother] and [his wife] I've heard about you from them and seen a couple pictures of you. I asked [oldest brother] and [his wife] if I could write to you and say hi. They didnt see any harm in it and so here's my letter to you.

My name is [Tabatha], I'm 30 yrs old I work full time at a Residential Treatment center for teenagers, a job I find very rewarding. I like to read, garden, fish, hike, camp and would really like to go hunting someday. I enjoy fishing, I can bait my own hook set up the line, clean the fish and filet the fish - but I never learned how to COOK the fish - LOL. One night my mom and I went fishing and caught a 10 lbs cat fish, talk about hard to kill, we finally gave up because we felt bad for it. Threw him in the ice chest and took him back to the river. Silly huh? I'm an animal lover so I don't want to see any animal suffer.

Oh [oldest brother] told me you passed your oral exam - congrats - thats fantastic. I hope you celebrated all night afterwards.

So if you dont mind telling me what other hobbies do you have

[Oldest Brother] said you're very busy with school and work, so I understand if you are too busy to respond.

I've enclosed three pictures of me taken 2 months ago I hope you like what you see and I hope we get a chance to get to know each other better.

Have a good day, [Native Minnow].

Sincerely,

[Tabatha]

[address and phone number]

Against my better judgement, I've also scanned the pictures she sent. I've done this for two reasons: 1) Peer pressure. I've had several of you email me and ask to see, so here you go. Just remember, you asked for it. 2) I need to prove that I wasn't just being mean when I said that it made me "recoil in horror and fight the urge to vomit." It was an honest statement. Oh, and I'm not responsible for cleaning up the mess if any of you actually do vomit.

*****************************EDIT*****************************

I received a rare visit from my conscience and have decided to take the pictures down. It was mean and I'd hate for her to find out about it somehow. I hope you all got a chance to see how bad it was though.

What it takes to wanna be a man

I got a letter from my sister-in-law the other day. She said that she and one of her neighbors were looking through some pictures and there were a few of me. Her neighbor asked if it would be alright if she wrote me a letter. She and my brother decided that "it wouldn't hurt" and that I "might like a pen pal." In other words, they're trying to set me up with this girl.

There was a letter from the girl enclosed. She is a year younger than me and has three kids. She likes to "read, garden, fish, hike, camp, and would really like to go hunting someday." She then told me about how much she likes to fish, can bait her own hook, clean and filet the fish, but never learned how to cook them. That's great and all, but personally I think those are talents that she should share with someone who fishes with bait.

(You see, I tend to be a bit of an elitist, and by that I mean I'm an arrogant prick, and by that I mean I'm better than everyone else. I enjoy flyfishing , but that's about it. Fishing with anything else is boring, and fishing with live bait seems a bit like cheating. So in summary, flyfishing = high class, bait fishing = white trash, I = awesome. Anyway, on with the story.)

At the end of the girl's letter she told me that she had enclosed some pictures of herself and that she hoped I liked what I saw. Sure enough, there were three pictures in the envelope, but I didn't exactly like what I saw.

I think I'm going to have to explain my rules for dating to my brother. Also, I have to add one more rule to the list - In order to consider dating someone, I must be able to look at a picture of them without recoiling in horror while fighting the urge to vomit.

Come on chemicals

For any of you who are just dying to see what I experienced at the Of Montreal concert last week go here.

That is all.

(Lauren, you're welcome)

Three legged animals

Yesterday afternoon I had to help grade an exam. Like a fool, I volunteered to grade the long essay question. It took a while to do, and it got seriously depressing after a while. Let's just say that I'm really hoping people have always been this stupid and I just didn't realize it before. That sure beats the alternative (i.e. people are getting dumber) and its implications for the future.

Some of the answers were so bad that no matter how hard I looked to see if I could even give them a mercy point I just couldn't. Some of the answers made me laugh outright (such as the student who made up the word autohomocentriphism because they couldn't remember anthropomorphism). I'm sharing the funniest answers with you, but first you need to know what the question asked. Students were asked to list and describe three (out of six) influences that Charles Darwin had on contemporary thought.

• Darwin showed that humans are not centric
• This revolution of evolution . . .
• 55% of Americans are still skeptical about accepting evolution as a valid possibility solely due to their religiosity
• We evolutionized from animals
• This idea has haunted Christians to this day because it is simple and even they can understand it (emphasis added)
• Atheists believe that evolution was caused by God
• Darwin didn't understand evolution, so he did his own mating with pigeons

The last one had one of the professors laughing so hard that he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. Darwin was a pigeon fucker? Who knew?

I got a phone call from the Lord saying "Hey boy, what's up?"

But will He throw tiny rocks at my windshield as I'm following him down the freeway?

If I was twice the man I could be I'd still be half of what you need

Lately I've been getting a lot of emails that begin as follows:

"Great Chap, Don't tell me why your thing is so small"
"Don't tell me why your ramrod is so small"
"Hey comrade with a small woody"
"I don't care why your Johnson's small, but 71% of women do"
"Manzilla! Size does matter! You seen this on TV!"
"Take your award Mr. Small Woody 2006"

Let me worry about finding a girl first, then I'll start to worry about whether my member is a good enough size.

He makes love to the Duke, and swordfights the Queen

The last time I was in Salt Lake City, I had a conversation with my friend Flieswithoutwings about how romanticized a lot of children's stories are. Obviously a lot of them are rags-to-riches stories that follow a simple format: Girl lives in poverty. Girl meets prince, often without realizing he's a prince. Girl falls in love with the prince. Girl marries prince and leaves her life of poverty behind once and for all.

I think we all know how well that would play out in the real world.

It's funny how you never hear about a middle class girl who meets and marries a middle class boy and lives happily ever after. Nobody wants to hear about that. I think this is just more proof that money really does buy happiness.

Similarly, you never hear about the girl who remains single and lives happily ever after. See ladies, you need a man if you ever expect to be truly happy.

My favorite stories are the ones with the evil step-parents. We all know there are often problems with people getting along with their step-children, but to actually want the children dead? Seriously, how hot must Hansel and Gretel's step-mom have been in order to get their father to leave them in the woods to die?

It makes me realize that I'm going about it all wrong. The way to become immortalized in stories is not to accept my youngest as my own, it's about trying to feed him to the wolves every chance I get.

Bangs to drape across your forehead

My daughter: Dad, you might not be the right person to ask this, but do you know how people get their hair to be wavy? You know, like the kind of big waves?

Me: Genetics.

She's right. I'm not the right person to ask that.

Who says don't look back? Don't believe 'em.

Sometimes I like to do things to people just to see what their reactions will be. I used to do it a lot more often than I do now. I'm not sure if that's because I'm finally starting to grow up a little, or if it's because I'm surrounded by people who I suspect would retaliate in nasty ways. I suspect it's the latter.

A few years ago when I was working on my master's degree my friends in the lab and I would do things to annoy each other just for shits and giggles. However, one time I crossed a line and it still comes back to haunt me to this day.

You see, there was a guy in our lab who tended to annoy everyone. It wasn't anything specific, just his overall personality and existence. He had a picture on his desk that he held near and dear to his heart. It was of him holding a fish that he'd caught. One day I decided that I would put it in a frame on my friend's desk:

Needless to say, my friend was not amused. Especially considering the fact that I had to remove the picture of his two daughters from the frame. The next time I came to the lab, the photo was taped to my wall, so I took it down and put it back in the frame on my friend's desk. The cycle continued another two or three times until my friend decided it had been enough. After that I came in and found the picture glued to my binder with copious amounts of rubber cement. There was no way I was getting it off, so there it stayed.

Occasionally I'll need to go through old notes to brush up on topics that I haven't thought of in a while. When I do I am reminded of my shame:

Come and dance with me Michael

Uh, oh. I might be in trouble. I just found out that there are bands out there that can turn a person gay. A lot of the bands I listen to are on the list. If you click on the link be sure to look at the title of the web site because it = awesome.

I wonder if this guy has heard of Of Montreal.

Forget Forget Forget Forget Forget

The concert last night was pretty good, although I got home a bit later than I'd anticipated. The band was supposed to take the stage at 10 p.m., but it was closer to 11 by the time they actually did. I'm not complaining. They had a DJ who was playing some very good music. It renewed my faith in humanity knowing that there were a lot of people who are interested in stuff other than hip hop and the top 40 crap that gets played on the radio. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate American Idol?

They played for about an hour and a half. I was only familiar with about half the songs they played though (remember, I'd never heard of the band until a few weeks ago, and all I've listened to is the sampler CD my friend gave me). At least they played my favorites off that mix.

A few things I could have done without:

• The old fat chubby guy who felt the need to dance around and rub up against everyone who happened to be within a ten foot radius. Luckily, I was able to get away from him rather quickly just by taking a few steps back.
• The gay porn that they briefly showed on the screen behind the stage. I'm no homophobe, but there's a difference between being tolerant of a lifestyle and being forced to watch the graphic details of it. As my friend put it, "Have you ever seen that movie Men in Black [long pause] Men?" I just averted my eyes until it was safe to look toward the stage again, which incidentally didn't last long (see below).
• The lead singer playing a couple of songs wearing nothing but a medallion pendant and his guitar. He may have had some shoes on still, I'm not sure. At first I thought he'd just taken his shirt off, but then the sea of heads in front of me parted and BAM, I saw cock-and-balls. However, I do think that may have been the highlight of the show for one of my friends. She came up to me afterwards waving a gold skirt that the guy had been wearing and thrown into the crowd once he stripped saying, "look what I got."

I know you're thinking two things right now:

1. Lucky girl! Why don't I ever get to catch the gold skirt?
2. You mean to tell me that a guy took the stage wearing a gold skirt and yet you were surprised when they showed gay porn?

I know you're thinking this, because I'm thinking the same thing. All in all it was a good show.

For once I want to be the car crash, not always just the traffic jam

Here's my favorite picture of a Valentine's Day event. I took it three years ago. It reminds me of my marriage.

Fuck Valentine's Day.

It's static craziness to me, is it a solar fever?

I'm going to see Of Montreal in concert tonight. I can't really tell you much about the band because I was just introduced to them last week, by a friend who asked if I wanted to go to the show. I like the sampler CD she gave me, plus tickets are only $10 so it's kind of hard to go wrong.

I'm fully expecting to see plenty of emo boys and girls there, but I don't have an aversion to them like some people I know. The subject came up the other night while I was out with some friends and one guy started talking about he went to the mall and saw emo kids everywhere.

Him: They really seem to congregate at stores like Hot Topic*. I was thinking that I should just go down to Sears, buy a ball hammer, hide out and then hit them in the head when they pass by. It'd be just like a duck blind.





* Don't get me started on how contradictive it is to "stick it to the man" by shopping at a chain store that was created just to make it more convenient for you to get clothes that show how much you're willing to "stick it to the man." That said, I own at least one shirt from Hot Topic.

Take a look at where you are it's pretty scary

I decided I'd spent enough time sitting around the house watching movies in Spanish, so yesterday I went to Arizona Hot Springs along the Colorado River with a group of people from work.


It's about a three mile hike through a canyon to the River. I hesitate to call it a slot canyon as it's not quite narrow enough, but it's pretty close, and you do have to worry about flash flooding. Well, at least you would if it ever rained in this part of the country. It didn't take us long to get there, but it's good that I went with some people who had already been there. It turns out that these hot springs have a particularly nasty little parasite that kills almost everyone it infects. The good thing is that you can only contract this parasite through your sinuses, so as long as you don't submerge your mouth and/or nose in the hot spring you'll be safe. I probably wouldn't have done that anyway, but it's still good to know.



I know what you're thinking. Surely there must be signs to warn people about this fact. Oh, there's a sign, I just don't know how much warning it gives.

I'm not 100% sure, but it looks like it might be time for an upgrade.

Anyway, I didn't put my face in the water, and I haven't noticed my brain swelling up yet, so I should be ok.

I can't wait to go back, but next time, I'm totally swimming in the Colorado River first.

Is it all just wasted time

I am continuing my quest to do absolutely nothing this weekend, but I've run into a few set backs. Perhaps the biggest one of these is that there is something screwed up with our cable. All of the premium channels (HBO, Showtime, Max, etc.) are playing in Spanish. That would be ok with me as long as I actually spoke Spanish, but I don't, so you can see my problem. That still didn't stop me from watching the Return of the Jedi though. There's something comical about watching a movie like that dubbed into a different language, but I must say, you know you're bored when you're watching a movie in a language you don't even speak.



The Return of the Jedi was released when I was eight years old. My mom let me and my brother see it on opening night. At the time I thought that it was the best movie that ever was, or ever would be created. We were a few minutes late, and we missed the beginning of the movie, so we felt justified in staying into the next showing to see what we'd missed. We probably would have stayed for the whole thing again, except our mom said she'd pick us up as soon as the first one was over. I wonder if she minded that she had to sit outside for an extra 20 minutes or so for us to get the entire story.



It's funny how things like bad acting and terrible dialogue don't matter when you're a kid. The only thing that mattered was how cool the light sabers were (I've always wanted one of my own), how cute those furry little Ewoks were, and that the good guys won. Oh, and the speeder bikes. I still want my own speeder bike. I figured by now we'd have those. Come on technology. What's the big hold up?



One more thing, I remembered how good Princess Leia looked in that metal bikini. I thought so when I was eight, and I still think so. I remember being on the playground discussing it with two of my friends. They told me that even though it wasn't included in the movie, there was a part where Jabba the Hutt made Princess Leia change into that right in front of him so he got to see her naked. Oh how I hated that Jabba the Hutt. Jealous? You betcha.

and the silver chauffeur says that it's all in your head

I took a few minutes out of my extremely busy day (of doing absolutely nothing) yesterday to wash my car. That's not terribly exciting you say? You're absolutely right, but it needed it. Badly. I haven't washed it in nearly two months even though it should have been done as soon as I came back from visiting my family for Christmas. It's funny how driving through a couple of snow storms can really dirty things up.

There are multiple reasons why I haven't washed it. First, I've been busy. Second, every time it crossed my mind it was too cold to do it. Third, and probably most important, I wanted to leave it dirty.

You see, I have a friend who is a bit of a perfectionist. If you move a pencil on his desk while he is gone, he will straighten it as soon as he returns. He usually doesn't even realize that he's doing it. He likes things to be clean. He needs things to be clean. He needed my car to be clean and he wasn't afraid to make that clear. The crazy thing was that I already knew that my car was dirty. I didn't need him to tell me that.

If you want your stuff to be in order, that's fine. If you want my stuff to be in order, that's fine too. If you come and move my stuff around so that it fits your idea of what is acceptable, that's not fine (and yes, he has taken it upon himself to straighten out my things on multiple occasions). If it pains you too much to ride around in my dirty car, well, maybe I'm going to cause you some pain.

I was actually thinking about washing my car on the way home that day, but since he felt so strongly that something needed to be said, I left it dirty. I did this simply because I knew it was killing him not to bring it up again. Finally, a few weeks later he told me that I should wash it so that the salt wouldn't start eroding the paint, but he wasn't really worried about that, he just wanted all to be right in his world. I still didn't clean it. At least not until yesterday. But that was because I wanted it done.

Don't ever mistake me for someone who isn't petty and juvenile, for I will do things (or not do them) simply out of spite.

*************************EDIT*************************

New days new guns blue haze dead sons x-rays I won't be lonely tonight

This morning I awoke at five o'clock and felt a huge wave of relief when I realized that I had in fact passed my comprehensive exam (contrast that with yesterday when I awoke at the same time and immediately began dry heaving because I was so nervous about taking it). I tried to go back to sleep but couldn't.*

As I was lying there staring at the ceiling, I remembered that I still hadn't told some of my friends the good news. I sent a text message to my friend that recently moved to Boston in order to let him know (after all, he's the only one who would have been awake at that time because of the time difference).

His response: Congrats! Did u just get in from a wild night of hookers & coke?

I wish!

The truth is, I didn't do anything to celebrate. Nothing at all. In fact, I went back to work almost immediately. I'd arranged for a friend of mine to cover my labs in case things went badly again, but since they didn't, and since I was done plenty of time before my class began, I told her not to worry about it. That may have been a mistake, because I was completely spent by the time I got home, but I've become such a loser that I really didn't have any desire to go out anyway.

I'm not quite sure when it happened, but I now realize that I'm a workaholic. I've been awake for nearly three hours, and I feel like I need to go do something productive. I'm not going to. I'm not doing anything work related until Monday. I promised myself that. Now I just need to go find something to do in the meantime. For starters I think I'll go catch a matinee.




* I knew I should have taken some muscle relaxers before going to bed.

Done is good, but done well is so much fucking better

I passed my comps bitches! That is all for now.

It's a good day to skip because

I know a girl who wants to start up a lava farm. She asked me if I'd be interested in buying some of her volcano seeds, but I didn't know if I was ready for that kind of commitment. After all, having your own volcano is quite a lot of responsibility. She said that she wouldn't have any seeds for about a month, so I have some time to make a decision.

Tomorrow I'm taking my comps (again). In the event that things go as badly as they did the first time, I may need a volcano. What better place for Keil Holliday to set up a secret hide-out as he begins his secret life of crime?

But gravity always wins

A girl I know texted me in response to yesterday's post:

Her: Define nice boobs.
Me: Nice and round and perky but not too big.
Her: And you wonder why you have trouble with the ladies.
Me: I don't wonder at all. I know I'm retarded. The answer to your question would have been 'yours' if I thought I had a legitimate chance.
Her: As long as you know that there might be hope.
Me: There's no hope for me. You know that.

My fake plastic love

Friend: Is that girl over there cute? I can't tell.
Me: She's cute if you're into that fake-plastic-too-much-make-up sort of look.

A few seconds later:

Me: She's got a nice body though.
Friend: Yeah?
Me: I said nice body, but what I really meant was nice boobs.
Friend: Is that always what you mean when you say nice body?
Me: Pretty much.

They call me Mr. Tinkertrain

The first quiz I give every semester includes the question "What is your TA's name?" Maybe it's an ego thing, but I get annoyed when we're two months into a semester and there are still students who don't know my name. Seriously, it's one name to remember. Is it really that difficult?

I don't expect all of my students to get it right after one week, and I give them the point even if they miss it, but asking them usually gets the point across that I expect them to know who I am. Not only does it satisfy my ego, but they also have to write my name on their exams so the professors know who to give their exams to when it's time to hand them back.

Anyway, it can be humorous to see what the people who don't remember my name will write down for an answer. This week, one of them put something that I like a lot. In fact, I think I may have found a new moniker, or at least an alias if I ever resort to a life of crime.

The name? Keil Holliday!

Tommy the Cat's my name, and I say unto thee

This is the story of how I intentionally scarred the lives of two little girls, but did so unintentionally. You might be thinking that the previous sentence makes absolutely no sense, but you'd be wrong, as you'll see shortly.

When I was 16 years old I was employed at the local meat packing plant. My job was to clean the place up after business hours. It certainly wasn't the best paying job, nor was it the best work environment, but the hours were flexible so it wasn't all bad. I worked there with one of my close friends, and our boss didn't care what time we went in as long as everything was clean by the time he had to start everything up at 5 the next morning. The problem with that was that sometimes it was a little too easy to put off going to work.

The meat packing plant was about a mile from my house, and I usually had to walk there, but occasionally my parents would let me take their car, especially if it was late. It was one such night when 'the incident' happened. I'd put off going to work until about ten o'clock, and my parents let me take the car so that I wouldn't be out any later than I was going to be already.

As I was driving to work a cat crossed the street just in front of me, so I did what any teenage boy who had just obtained a driver's license would do: I swerved to try and hit it. It wasn't until after I swerved that I noticed the two little girls on the sidewalk. Not wanting to force them to witness the bloodshed that was about to occur, I swerved to try and miss the cat as soon as I saw them, but it was too late. I ran over the cat with the back tire.

I didn't stop. I just felt guilty that these kids had witnessed me killing a furry little animal. I felt even worse when I was driving home from work and the cat was no longer lying on the side of the road. Apparently it wasn't just any cat. It was their cat. I hope they thought it was just an accident because it was dark, but I doubt that's the case.

I would say that it was the last time I intentionally killed something, but that would be a lie.

I hope that your song's not The Boys of Summer just because you were both born on that day

A friend of mine is having a birthday this weekend. I asked him if he had any plans.

Him: I think that I'm just going to take it easy. I've been so busy lately, but a blow job would be nice.

Me: Sorry dude, I can't help you out there.

Don't wanna wake up with noone beside me, don't wanna take up with nobody new

Earlier this week I had breakfast with my ex-girlfriend. She was in town for the weekend and called to see if I wanted to see her before she flew out. To be honest, I was a little surprised that she called, but I've said before that we wanted to stay friends, so it made me feel good that she did. I was beginning to have my doubts about whether that was still going to be the case.

The timing was a little weird because I have been thinking about her lately. That's not to say that I'm sitting around moping, but occasionally I think about what might have been if she hadn't moved 2000 miles away.

She looked good, as always. We had a lot of catching up to do, but in some ways it was almost like no time at all had passed, even though I haven't seen her in nearly a year. It's funny how you forget about the little things though. Like the fact that she always eats weird stuff for breakfast (seriously, a chicken panini?).

She's basically the reason that I have so many rules for who I'll consider getting into a relationship with (well, that and the fact that I don't want to end up in a relationship like I had with my ex-wife again). There are women out there who fit my criteria, it's just a matter of finding them, getting them interested and then keeping them nearby.