Putting the Odd In Todd

New York in Quotes

2008-08-22T08:08:00.014-05:00

6 Adults. 1 Toddler. 10 Days. Too Many Quotes.

"It's so overwhelming. It's like a meal." -Kim, about Vitamin D milk.

"Are you missing a can of WD-40? Because I found one." -Emily

"I printed out information from Wikipedia. All of it." -Marc, regarding his tireless preparations.

"New York, you're a ripoff." -Kim

"You would draw a different kind of chick." -Emily to Todd

"That's what I asked that other guy over there." -Emily
"You mean Marc?" -Todd, reminding Emily that she knows that "other guy over there."

"I didn't see Charlton Heston coming." -Kim

"I have very good eyesight." -Our little crabbing friend, Michael. But times the quote by 100.

"That's a monster." -Repetitive Michael, x100

"The homey details make all the difference." -Kate, referring to the Mets decorating the pitching mound with their logo.

"I can't wait to watch them decorate my mound." -Kate, again referring to the Mets decorating the pitching mound with their logo. Really.

"Thomas Edison has always been a big fan of mine." -Marc

"That's where you can store your apples." -Todd, when seeing a branch of The Apple Bank.
"I was wondering what to do with all these apples." -Kate

"I'm such a ten year old boy." -Kim

"I'm older than my mom." -Kim

"I'm not drunk. I'm trying to be proper." -Sara

"I don't want to drink your butt water." -Todd

"I wouldn't mind being buried there." -Kim, upon seeing a nice cemetery.

"You need to thoroughly go away." -Emily to Marc
"Stop using the word thoroughly." -Kim

"Marc, you are not even going the speed limit." -Sara, as we drove through Greenport.
"But they go by so fast..." -Marc, referring to odd dentist chairs sitting in one yard that he didn't want to miss.

"Holy crap, you know we now have to stop at a kite store to stop Emily from pointing everyone of them out." -Kim

"A cliff is a sudden precipice." -Marc

"Oh my gosh! We're all drunk." -Kim

"There was a clown." -Kim, remembering her childhood birthday party at Ground Round.

"David Wright's a guy you could take home to mom." -Todd
"I'd take him home to MY mom." -Kim

"And now, you are on the floor for no reason." -Kim to Emily

"Speaking of dragons..." -Kate

"Now we know how to get Emily out of the car." -Kim, after learning of Emily's fondness for Chinese Firedrills.

"The bat man came in across the couch." -Emily

"According to the stick..." Marc, taking instructions from a wooden stick in the ground.

"She's being a train." -Sara, about Emily.

"I like those tight silver butts with a little turquoise on them running down the field." -Marc's mom, explaining why she likes the Miami Dolphins.

"Baseball!" -Marc and Sara's son, Alex. Multiply by about 1000.

"Well, you survived to talk about it." -Marc's Dad regarding a marathon day in the city upon seeing us dragging ourselves about the next morning.

"Ronkonkoma. Do doo do-do-doo." -Everyone.

"I hope you don't mind my bare feet in your food." -Kim

"We pretty much eat fudge." -Kim, describing her family vacations.

"Don't hit my cone!" -A Jones Beach parking lot worker.
"That man takes great ownership of his traffic cones." -Kate

"Just don't fall on your nuts." -Marc

All I Got Is Quotes

2007-09-21T08:52:00.000-05:00

Man, I had plans today to do a big blog post about my adventures last weekend camping. But, I'm not going to get to it. The wife and I spent last night preparing for our garage sale opening today, after work I need to go do my first landlord duty of fixing a shower head and I've been putting a huge amount of time into what will be known throughout history as The Cutest Gift Ever Given for a Nephew's 1st Birthday.

But, next week: The Adventure of the Bird Safari!

Quotes of the Week:
"He hasn't exactly clothed himself in glory this year." --Pat Hughes on a Cubs broadcast. I was flipping through channels and this strange, creative way of saying "He kinda sucks" made me giggle.

"I told them to leave him in the chimney and let him die." --A Very Angry Ex, who found her ex-boyfriend drunk and stuck in her chimney.

"Adorable pets of Inpop Records and CTI are not eligible." An Edit of One of My Magazine Files. This is actually a very mysterious case. I wrote up a blurb for a contest. The other editors read it to make suggestions and edits. When I got it back, this sentence had been added. And no editor will take responsibility--or credit--for it! Was "adorable pets" cut and pasted in instead of "employees?" I don't know. I am just glad that homely pets are eligible to enter the contest.

"I love this fuzzy sweatshirt. It makes me feel like my own cuddly stuffed animal." --Pure Heart

"Lucky! It really is the year of the todd." -A Text from Jill after Thome's 500th homerun.

Random Pictures

2007-09-20T13:48:00.001-05:00

A while back, I had my camera in the truck for a week or two and kept forgetting to take it out. The other day, I found several pictures from that period of time. It's all just random stuff that made me giggle. And so, for some reason I took pictures.

I thought I'd do something with them:

Nothing like a day at the swim pool. It's better than the bathing tub. (Man, English is complicated.)

Don't park in these parkings. They are reserveds.

Okay, so any LIQUID is forbidden to those under 16? How about milk? Ginger ale? It must be, since the sign is very adamant that it's talking about LIQUID.

That's Not Toothpaste

2007-09-19T08:08:00.001-05:00

Since I've gotten married, I've noticed more and more the differences in how men and women think. I've always known that women multi-task better than men. But the compounding evidence fascinates me.

It's so true: Women can think about and/or do 489 things at once. Guys? One. If we (OK, maybe it's just me) try to do more than that one thing--or you bring up something for us to think about while we're still focused on our one item, errors occur.

Like the other night: I was telling the wife a story as I prepared for bed. And I was really into the story. As I talked, I grabbed my toothbrush, squirted paste on it and began brushing--all the while concentrating on whatever wonderful story I was telling. About two strokes in, I stopped. Something is wrong here, I thought. That doesn't taste like toothpaste.

It wasn't. I was so focused on my story, I squirted hair gel onto my toothbrush.

Mmm-mmm good.

Related note: I went to the dentist yesterday. Despite my troubled dental past, I am now a model of oral health!

Behold the Power of the Bobble

2007-09-17T08:43:00.000-05:00

It may be predictable, but getting my dad a Father's Day gift every year is pretty simple: White Sox tickets. I almost always get him a ticket and arrange for the whole family to go to the game together.

With the busy summer my wife and I had this year, we knew when planning the Father's Day Sox Game that it had to be 1) On a Sunday and 2) After August. Looking at the schedule, I found a good day (for the family, for dad and for me)--September 16: Jim Thome Bobblehead Day. It was a Sunday, we'd be less busy, it should be cool weather, and best of all, I would get a new Bobblehead out of it. Score.

We scheduled the big game with family early this summer: My wife's dad and sister, my parents, brother, sister-in-law and Little Sis. Yay. I was excited (have I mentioned the bobblehead?). However, by early June, we realized the game would mean nothing. My dad even mentioned how we'd be watching the Sox Triple-A team. Bummer. But at least we'd get to tailgate, play bags and, of course, get our Bobbleheads.

And then, a new hope arose. Two or three weeks ago I was home and told my Dad, "You know, we could get very close to seeing Jim Thome hit his 500th Career Homerun." It was a long shot but when he hit 4 homers in six days, he made it more probable. And then, he got to 499.

All week, I've been nervous he'd hit it. I really had no doubt that if he didn't hit it before Sunday, we would see it. The trick was getting to Sunday with no homer. Jim's been smoking hot. Friday night, Jill called me while I was camping to notify me it didn't happen while she and the Gate 5 Gang were there. On Saturday, Pure Heart the Wife texted me at the campsite to say Jim struck out in his last at bat. It was on.

We all got to the ballpark early yesterday and got a great tailgating spot. We ate a lot and enjoyed the cool, sunny weather. It was really the perfect day to be at a ballgame. About 30 minutes before game time, I went in to make sure I got my Bobblehead (sadly my collection is packed in boxes somewhere so Jim is on his own here in my office right now.)

All 9 of us were pretty stoked. Thome was still on 499 and we really just had a feeling. My Sister-in-Laws both said they thought Thome would win the game with a homer. I felt like he'd hit a foul ball (that I would catch) and the the bomb.

The game didn't start off so well. We were down 7-1. Jim was like 0-4. I told my brother, "If he does get up again and get the 500th, that will at least make up for it." About that's when the magic happened. The Angels put in some poor reliever named Bootcheck (really) and we hammered him. Before long, a Danny Richar homerun put the icing on the cake. It was 7-7. And even better--the Sox rallies moved through the lineup enough that Big Jim would get one more at bat--in the 9th.

As the 8th inning ended, I felt like I needed to get my Bobblehead out of the box to have it out for Jim. I'm very baseball-superstitious. (In fact, I am pretty sure the Sox came back because our party all rearranged in our seat for better feng shui, a tactic I learned from The Gate 5 Gang. Thanks, peeps.) Anyway, I had this feeling that bobbling Jim during his at bat was maybe what it would take. But, I also thought maybe it was too dorky. I resisted the urge.

During the break between innings, Pure Heart began to unpackage her Bobblehead. Hmmm, I thought. Maybe there's something to this. She feels it, too! So, we got out our Bobbleheads. As Jim came to bat with no outs and a man on, we held our Jims high and bobbled their little heads.

The count went to 3 balls. My dad and I thought they'd walk him. My brother said, "Nope. He's got to give him a cookie." And then, Jim hit a foul ball. I didn't catch it but my bro said, "There's the foul ball you predicted."

Sure enough, the next pitch came in and Jim CRUSHED it. There was really no doubt. Everything after that is a blur of yelling, hugging and crying. Jim's 500th won the game. (It's the first time that a member of the 500 club hit his 500th as a walk-off.) I remember yelling, "It actually happened! Is this real? I can't believe this is real." I was shocked and in utter jubilation.

Thome's 500th homerun in the bottom of the ninth to win the game on Jim Thome Bobblehead Day? Please. That can't happen.

As Jim pumped his fists, got carried around by Jermaine and Jenks, and the Jumbotron played a montage tribute, my dad and I both teared up. After the game ended, none of us really wanted to leave. We hung around for a long time (In fact, we eventually got yelled at by a cranky security guy). The energy, the excitement and the fact that this happened with the family all together was just too perfect.

It was the best Father's Day in September Ever.

"I'm Todd. I'll Be The Class Numbskull."

2007-09-09T20:59:00.000-05:00

Pure Heart and I started a new Bible Study on Sunday afternoon. It's a Crown Financial class offered at our church; it teaches what the Bible says about money and gets into practical stuff like budgets, investments and debt-reduction.

The class is on Sundays from 4 to 6. Yah, that's football time, but that doesn't really bother me. I'm actually not used to watching football on Sundays because I've had Sunday youth group commitments for the last 9 years. In fact, usually I would be busy from about 2 to 9 on Sundays. I'm used to just checking scores and getting recaps. But still, this first class was smack in the middle of the Bears game. D'oh.

At about 4:45 we were at a good pausing point, and the leader asked if people needed "a bathroom break, water break, or..." and I injected, "Check the Bears Score Break..." However, I seemed to be the only one interested in that. In fact, we all decided we weren't ready for a break yet. We carried on.

At 5:20, the group was now ready for a break. We were given 5 minutes. Class would resume at 5:25. I turned to Pure Heart: "I'm running outside to check the score."

I dashed out the church to the car. I turned on the radio just as LT threw a TD pass. Chargers up 7-3. Ugh. I ran back to the church and...

The doors were locked. I checked the next set down. Locked. Apparently, after the classes get started at 4, they figure everyone is in for the afternoon and lock up the joint. I knocked a bit on the windows hoping a classmate returning from the bathroom might hear. Nope. I called Pure Heart. Of course, her phone was off because she is a considerate classmate. I texted her saying, "LOCKED OUT!" I called two more times just to be sure.

At this point, the break had been over for 5 minutes. I saw no one in the church and so I ran down to two more sets of doors. All locked. I got in the car and drove around the church checking doors. Locked. Locked. Locked. Well, at least we are safe in there, I thought.

At this point it's 5:35. I've checked every door of the church (which is a lot because the church is the size of Disneyland.) I went back to the main doors. Still locked.

I peered through windows hoping a custodian or security would be strolling by. No luck. And so I waited.

At about 5:45 (the class ends at 6), Pure Heart came looking for me. She had been concerned because it wasn't like me to just not return. I was so happy to see her approaching those doors. I thought maybe I was lost forever. (And was actually expecting a St. Bernard with a little barrel of rum.)

Although my wife had no rum, I followed her back to class sheepishly. Once there, I apologized to the class and assured them that no one was going to sneak in and get us during class.

Actually, those long minutes locked outside were kinda interesting. I think God was teaching me a little bit about humility, my attitude--and my priorities. Apparently, maybe I shouldn't be quite so concerned about the Bears during a Bible study.

Or I should bring headphones and a radio with me...

Back In the Cubicle

2007-09-06T10:13:00.001-05:00

When I first started working at my current magazine, I worked in a cubicle that we use for student interns. The guy formerly in my job didn't leave the company--he just switched jobs--so, until they could find a new place for him, he squatted in what is now my creaky, leaky office.

I am back in that cube as I write this. I came back here to remember my roots--to never get so big and mighty that I forget where I came from. Actually, I'm here because my computer is not working. Whenever my PC goes out on me, I come work at the intern's terminal if it's free. (NOTE: This also means that I'm working on a toaster and do not have IM. So if you are bugging Emily about where I am at on IM, you can leave her alone. Now you know.)

Before the wedding, my hard drive had this bad habit of freezing or going to a blue screen that said "Beginning Physical Memory Dump." I am no technician, but that doesn't sound good at all. But while I was away from work for 3 weeks, the good people in Computer Services fixed my dumping problem.

Until Tuesday. It dumped on me again. And so I alerted Computer Services. They responded that instead of trying any more fixes, they would be giving me a newer harddrive. Yay!

And it couldn't have been soon enough. This morning, I was 5 minutes into work when it did it's physical memory dump and then...went black. The screen said, "Unable to find hard drive." I am no technician, but that doesn't sound good at all.

So, I am in the cube and the good people in Computer Services are preparing my New Super Computer. Hopefully this one won't hate me. Or be able to smell my fear.

UPDATE: I have my new Super Computer and I'm out of the cubicle. Life is good. If my fantasy team will score ANY points this week!

Those Who Seek

2007-09-04T19:31:00.000-05:00

I know I pledged not to talk about Fantasy Football this week for Lil Sis's birthday, but man... Drew Brees actually COST me points last night. You know, with Brees being in the negative, I could have started a guy not playing this week and gotten more points.

Next week, I start Jim McMahon.

So, I am depressed. I guess I will go watch that "Ticking Noise" puppet show. Also what makes me giggle is to look at the Google Analytics page that tracks my blog traffic to see what people search for that brings them here. Here are my top five favorite searches that brought peopel to PTOIT:

5. "blogs about tricoci university" Someone was very specific here and found exactly what they were looking for. I wonder if it was the little girl who weaved fiber into my head or the one who cut my hair for 2 hours.

4. "sweet valley soda" Who wouldn't be searching this. It is Great Tasting!

3. "neal cotts" I bet this is Neal Cotts himself. I mean, who else would be Googling him? Except for my sister, but she knows where to find my blog ...

2. "i love baseball excitement" This one makes me giggle. Not even sure why. But I too love baseball excitement.

1. "nipple looks odd" I feel bad giggling because this person possibly has a serious medical condition and I doubt my blog could help.

"My Name is Todd. I like to do Drawrings"

2007-09-04T18:34:00.000-05:00

I found something in the pocket of a pair of shorts the other day. I thought I'd share it. (Don't worry, it's not lint or a used Kleenex.)

It's a page of stellar drawings I did on a placemat at Steak N' Shake:

I drew these doodles while out to eat with Pure Heart and her Grandma a few weekends ago. I had my pen out because I am back on Weight Watchers (I once lost 60 pounds on it a few years ago--and have now gained 25 back). I needed the pen to scribble down how many points I used. (A side note: It turns out that this Devil Sandwich from Hades was 22 points! To put it into perspective: I have a daily allowance of 31. 22 out of 31? Dang you, Steak 'N Shake!)

But at the time, I knew not of the evil of this Cursed Chicken Melt. So I giddily doodled while the wife and her grandma chatted. Turns out this small sheet of drawings has actually become a bit scandelous. Granny has said since that I'm a bit childish because of my doodles.

Well, let me tell you this: there's nothing childish about that evil robot. Thats a very adultish drawing. Let any 6-year-old try to top THAT!

Sox Surprise!

2007-09-04T18:27:00.000-05:00

At lunch on Tuesday I went over to our East Estate, the unrented, unsold condo from my bachelor days. I needed to vacuum and grab a few things. While there, I decided to take home my nice wooden end table that used to belong to my grandparents.

The table is hard to describe but it's pretty tall and about 3-feet wide with one drawer. There are markings on it that make us believe that it may be an old Communion table from a church (which makes sense because many of my ancestors were clergymen.)

I took the drawer out to carry the table downstairs. When I got outside, I turned the table and something fell out of the drawer slot. I looked down and saw it was some booklet. All I could notice was an ad on the back so I assumed it was a mailer of some sort. I bent down and picked it up and was very surprised by it: It's a 1970 Official White Sox Program and Scorecard.

Apparently, I've never taken that drawer out before.

It's pretty bent up from being jammed back behind the drawer for who knows how many years and it's discolored, but it's in decent condition. There's a feature on the young up-and-comer Bill Melton in his second year. An ad advertises a White Sox jacket for $8.45 (plus $.25 for shipping.) The team slogan is apparently "Angry Young Men." The program sold for 25 cents and the highest ticket price was $3.50. The bleachers were only $1.

Since yesterday, I've gotten to read about the Sox's "Mainstay on the Mound" Joel Horlen, the "husky little outfielder" Walter Williams, "star lefthander" Tommy John, and "Baseball's Premier Shortstop" Luis Aparicio. It's a neat time-capsule.

I can't wait to give it back to my dad, who I am assuming it belongs to.

Come Back to This Whenever Grumpy

2007-08-31T13:41:00.001-05:00

On Friday, I found a video on YouTube that I've been obsessed with all weekend. I've watched it almost 10 times. It has been stuck in my head 98% of the weekend. It's not new so maybe you've seen it. I heard about it from some Harry Potter fans at work during our Potter Discussion Lunch last week. And I was mucho impressed.

If you are in a bad mood or feeling cranky, here's your cure:

In Dedication to the Birthday Girl

2007-08-31T08:45:00.000-05:00

Today is my sister's birthday. (Any comments and you're banned for life, Derfman.) I love her to death, but I am afraid she's getting mean and surley in her old age.

I saw her on Sunday to celebrate her big day and all I got was grief. It started with criticism about the blog. Apparently, she doesn't care about fantasy football (it starts this week!) or monster movies (what's wrong with her?). Thus, she's been bored with me for the last week or so. I'm just not operating at a standard level for her.

So, as a birthday gift, I commit to not blog about football or geeky movies all week. I considered gearing PTOIT towards her interest areas this week, but I don't think I could handle a week of blogging about purses, brownies and cute boys who used to be effective bullpen pitchers. (Just kidding. Well, not about Cotts no longer being an effective pitcher.)

I could actually blog for awhile about brownies, I spose. That's an interest of mine too. At my parents' house this weekend, we had many deserts for the celebration. Someone asked me before I left for home if we'd have cake for the birthday party. Nope. Little Sis, like me, is anti-cake. Our birthdays are all about Big Cookies. And... Grandma also made TWO pies. One I think was made especially for me because it was Lemon Merinque. (I love when I get presents for others' birthdays...)

We also found some brownies in the fridge and pulled them out for the party. We know they were made by Little Sis because all that was left were the outside crust peices around the edge of the pan. A 5-inch block out of the center was gone. That's her trademark. If she was a criminal, the police would identify her as the culprit by finding baked goods with the gooey centers eaten out.

Like I said, the big centerpoint of any birthday in our family is usually the Big Cookie. When Pure Heart and I arrived Sunday, the Big Cookie was ready--but not decorated. I decided, out of my extreme and giving love for my sister, that I would decorate it. This is when Little Sis got on a roll. Apparently, I don't decorate the way she'd like. The enitre process of icing the cookie was one long beratement and barrage of criticism. "Aren't you gonna put any words on it?" "If you make the H that big, how's everything else gonna fit?" "Blah blah mean comment blah."

I reminded those present that I do hold a minor in art from my college that fully qualifies me for expert cookie decoration. But reminding them of my credentials only brought upon me more resentment. Apparently, my education is no good since I did not specifically take a class in "Cookie Arts," which I must have opted out of.

In my defense, I think it was a beautiful cookie. Which is fitting because it was for a beautiful young lady who I love--despite all the abuse I take and am nothing but charming and sweet in return. Or something like that.

Movie Geek Freakout

2007-08-31T07:43:00.001-05:00

Since Pure Heart has Masters classes on Tuesday, it's my movie night. This week, I went to Blockbuster with a list of films that have alrady been nominated for the ChristianityTodayMovies.com end-of-year best movies list. I was shocked when I saw someone had nominated a monster movie I'd never heard of called The Host.

Turns out that it's from South Korea and is currently getting a 92% rating on RottenTomatoes.com. I really loved watching it. It was just fun, enjoyable, quirky entertainment. It's not perfect, but it's just a good time. Some people have compared it to Jaws (it is about a water-bourne killing creature) but really it's more like a well-made, beautifully-shot Tremors because it's not really scary but more of a goofy, off-beat adventure. It's not for everyone (the only person who's seen it on my recommendation so far didn't like it...) but I think it's a gem.

I'm a sucker, though, for the creative takes on monster thrillers. I've been really excited about a yet-untitled movie I saw a preview for a few months ago. Here it is:

The movie's getting a lot of buzz (you've probbaly seen the trailer already). There's still no name released, but it's produced by J.J. Abrams (Alias, Lost, M:I 3). I love J.J. but am especially interested because I discovered it's written by Drew Goddard. Any non-geek won't know that name. But luckily, I am a geek.

Drew was a whizkid writer for the final seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. After his amazing first ep, the Anya-centric Selfless, I knew an ep would rock if his name was on it. And they did. He's very, very good--creative and witty. Since Buffy, he's written some great eps of Lost (some of the bigger eps of last year, for instance). So, knowing what he's capable of, I recommend keeping an eye on this movie....

Quote of the Week
"I wish my apartment building was a retirement villiage for retired mafia men." -Camerin

The Haircut Extravaganza

2007-08-30T13:20:00.000-05:00

Marc has updated his blog with a great chronicle of "The Haircut Extravaganza," as Charissa referred to it earlier this week when she offered us cookies if we held the event at her house.

In the end, those fresh-baked cookies made it worth it to hold the haircut in public. But there's a lot of pressure when it comes to cutting another man's hair in front of people. This video, borrowed from Marc's blog, illustrates:

As you can tell in the video, few haircuts in the history of mankind have commanded such a crowd as this one did. Samson's maybe beats us out. I guess there's something about a man cutting another's man's hair in the kitchen of entirely unrelated people that elicits attention and, well, criticism. We felt like an oddity in a circus sideshow and I think Marc secretly felt like outcast for liking his hair so incredibly short. Charissa commented as we swept up the cut hair: "I sweep up more loose hair off this floor every day!"

I like the way that Marc explained how, really, this isn't that weird: "This is normal for this group. We used to tailgate breakfast in the parking lot before work. We’ve pulled multiple pranks for many birthdays. Todd and I nearly drove to Milwaukee [in a snowstorm] to watch two baseball teams that neither of us root for."

These are just the things we do. However, when I told Camerin I would be cutting Marc's hair, she questioned whether we'd be eating red meat and talking about football during the process to help increase the testosterone levels. But you know, I think it's mainly for a guy to allow a friend to put sharp objects near his head. That's macho.

Welcome Home, Drew

2007-08-30T09:10:00.000-05:00

For the second straight year, I landed Drew Brees to head up my mighty fantasy football team (which is this year called IGNITE YOUR FACE). I am pretty happy with that. I didn't set out to get Drew again because I have a bad history with two-years-in-a-row QBs.

I once took Rich Gannon onto my team not knowing much about him at all. He blew up that season and scored approx. 9,000 TDs. He led my team to the post-season for the first time in my fantasy career. And so, the next season, I deliberately took him again. I think he actually played without both arms that season. It was that bad.

But I have faith in Drew. And I drafted a pretty stellar backup: Donovan McNabb. He was still available in the 5th round and I couldn't pass him up. He was injured last year but still scored 200 fantasy points in 10 games.

The rest of the team is OK although hard to evaluate right now. My WRs may be weak, several players too old or fragile, and if one RB goes down, I could be thin quick.

Non-Football Stuff Starts Here:
So far, this post has been way geeky. Well, it's only gonna get worse. In fact, I may have had The Geekiest Day Ever yesterday. And I loved it.

It all started with a lunch group to discuss the final Harry Potter book. Nothing says "geekboy" like discussing wizards and house elfs. After work was the 2-hour draft and then, I went to Emily and Charissa's house to cut Marc's hair. Yah, really. (There should be video eventually.)

The whole night was kinda surreal. We went over to E and C's for the haircut because 1) We needed a place to host this shearing, and 2) we wanted to hang out with them (Marc doesn't work here now and so doesn't get to see me and E as much.)

Let me note here that I've come to see E and C's house as pretty much a Campus Coffeehouse, or maybe a university union. Folks just come and go as they please. And I'm convinced that there's always someone in the house who doesn't live there but an outsider might assume they do because they're lounging about or making food.

So anyway, when Marc and I arrived to the C&E Clubhouse, their new roommate and two other guests hadn't eaten dinner yet. So, as they ate, Marc and I literally sat in lawn chairs about 3 feet away and watched. It was as if their dinner was a spectator sport. And let's just say that E is a far better salad tong wielder than C. If C hopes to get anywhere in competitive salad scooping, she needs some practice.

If she improves, I would consider drafting her late in my Fantasy Eaters League.

I'm not Patricia Arquette

2007-08-28T08:16:00.000-05:00

On Sunday night, I watched the movie Zodiac. It's a very good procedural film about the cops, journalists and a cartoonist (really...) who attempted to track down the Zodiac killer.

Well, that night I had several vivid dreams about doing investigations and crime-fighting. But the dreams aren't the funny part. The best part was that in the middle of the night I somewhat awoke in a sleepy haze and thought, "Man, I need to call the police. I could help them solve crimes with my dreams."

When I woke up more I realized that I'm not a pyschic. Or in this TV show.

A Tale of Two Sox

2007-08-27T08:29:00.000-05:00

Before Friday night, I'd never left a Chicago White Sox game early. But as the 8th inning began, I just didn't care anymore. I didn't want anymore to do with this 10-1 loss and I couldn't bear listening to Red Sox fans anymore. And I'd had enough of my White Sox. It wasn't fun anymore.

Back up a minute: My afternoon started with heading downtown on the train for a screening of a new Brad Pitt western about Jesse James. (It's an interesting and artistic--but ultimately too plodding--character study.) Afterwards, I grabbed the Green Line to U.S. Cellular. The second game of Friday's double-header didn't start until 7:11 and I arrived at about 5:30.

The Green Line is a few blocks East of the ballpark in the ITT campus. As I walked west through the streets, I was reminded of the last time I was on those sidewalks: October 4, 2005. It was Game One of the playoffs. My friend Mike and I had to park about 4 miles east of the ballpark (maybe not 4 miles. That'd be in the water, I think...). As we got to the ITT campus walking along 35th Street, we could hear the roar of the crowd--even across busy 90/94. It was as if there was so much energy and excitement that the park could barely hold it in. Approaching that stadium that day was the first time I really got a glimpse of what was happening: We had hope.

Two years later, I was walking the same path to the stadium. We were again playing the Red Sox. But with no hope. In fact, by the end of the weekend, we'd be beaten 46-7 in four games. During that walk, two strikingly contrasted but connected moments as a fan came together. I remembered the high as I now experience the low. In fact, mid-way through the game I told Pure Heart that I needed to go home and watch my 2005 DVDs to remember what winning feels like. Losing stinks, especially when you are a fan through thick and thin.

It's even harder to make it through a hopeless and embarrassing season when you have to sit in your home stadium surrounded by more Red Sox fans than those of the White Sox. How does this happen? I've noticed it since 2004: Red Sox fans outnumber us at games. They are everywhere. Is it because they are now becoming America's team? Or because many East Coasters move to the Chicago-area? Or is it because their fans travel to support their team? How can White Sox fans allow this? Why aren't we at the games? Well, maybe it's the same reason why I left early. It's just sad to be there.

And while I'm embarrassed about our year, mad about Kenny William's incorrect guesses about our bullpen, and letdown about being in August with nothing to play for, I am still a fan. They are still my team. I root for the White Sox because they are the White Sox. Not becuase they win. That's why there are Royals fans or Devil Ray fans. Because being a fan is about love. Not results.If it wasnt, I'd be a Yankees fan. Or a Red Sox fan. (shutter)

People have asked me this season (and my Dad reported this happening too) why I'd still cheer for a team doing poorly when a team on the other side of town is worth cheering for this year. The thing is: my love for the Sox isn't about success. It's unconditional. I'm a White Sox fan the same as I am a member of my family. I can't change that. It's just the way it is. I may be mad at family members or embarrassed of mistakes, but I can't change that I'm one of them. It's just who I am. And this is my team--good or bad.

During my two hours alone at the stadium before game time and before Pure Heart made it through traffic, I enjoyed just soaking in the scene outside the stadium and in. I had a pretzal, listened to music, watched other fans explore the park. As I stood at one fence overlooking the field I realized, I love it here. Even in the bad times, this is my home. I watched the grounds team prepare the field. I talked to a merch vendor. I saw kids taking grounders in the Fundamentals area and daydreamed of taking my kids and introducing them to this love. I felt good in that stadium, watching my old faves and new prospects, and sharing memories of the White Sox with my wife.

But then the Red Sox kept scoring. And kept scoring. Unfortunately, I had no recourse on Boston. One White Sox fan kept chanting "Red Sox sucks..." but, ummm, they don't. We do. All we can do is look forward to a time when our team can get their own revenge on the Red Sox and other teams. We can only bleed, cry and root for our team until the good times come again.

And remember 2005 when we whipped Boston 14-2 in a playoff game. And in 2004 when two Boston fans left and my friend Paul and I ate their peanuts. That taught them.

Crisis!

2007-08-24T07:49:00.000-05:00

In one key way, my worklife is like being a pirate. When I told Camerin this yesterday, she asked if it was because I get to run people through with my scabbard or because I have to walk the plank all the time. She also made some reference to a parrot. But I wasn't quite thinking of those things. Instead, living in my office is like being in the underbelly of a damp, creaky ship with leaks ready to spring at any time.

When the rains started yesterday, I kept my eye on the Southwest corner of my office. This is where my infamous leak is. I was told earlier this week that the roofers thought they'd finally solved that leak, but I knew yesterday's Armageddon rains would be the proving grounds. During the first minutes of the storm, no water streamed down the brick. All was well.

I went to look at the dark skies out the window. Next door to the office is a testing plant of some kind with a whole back area full of barrels. (Perhaps they test barrels?) When I saw a wind gust throw one of the barrels out of a pile int he warehouse, I thought maybe this was gonna be kinda bad. The sirens started and we all rushed to the basement.

When I came back up, the old leak was nowhere to be seen. Whew. I went back to work. That's when I heard a dripping. Drip. Drip. Drip. I checked the Southwest corner. Dry. Drip. Drip. Drip. And then I realized that what I heard the drips on was the head of my R2-D2 Pepsi cooler. In the SouthEAST corner.

Now, here's the thing: Because the Southwest corner is like a waterfall, I don't keep anything over there. But just this week I redecorated and put new pictures on the corner of the opposite wall and left all my Star Wars stuff on the shelf right under the corner. Why not? It's dry.

Well, this creaky old ship of an office mounted a surprise attack. She hit me where I wasn't expecting it. Water started as three different drips and then turned into a good flow--out of the tiles, over posters and pictures and onto my beloved Star Wars toys. She hit me where it hurt.

To get to the problem, I had to move R2 out. He became a refugee from his home. I moved all my stuff from that corner. Nothing was ruined but some old posters that I really don't care about.

Now, the entire corner is bare. Buckets and trashcans are standing watch. But the good news is that we survived. The old ship is still intact. In fact, the storms turned out to be worse than I thought they were yesterday. Lots of downed trees, electricity outage and damage in the area. My commute home last night took 2 hours but it was mainly because of rain-slowed traffic and not actual storm issues. (Though I did have to caulk up the wagon and ford one river/road.)

I hope the rain stays away today--not just for the sake of my creaky office but also because I'm going downtown for a movie screening (The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) and then to the Sox game.

Quotes of the Week

"The dog has more street cred than me. It's had the cops called on it twice!" -Mario

"There's heat coming from inside my shirt!" -The Sister-In-Law.

"I'm damn proud of that veggie tray." -Pure Heart

Did We Find my Voice Twin?

2007-08-23T13:17:00.000-05:00

Today in the lunchroom, a co-worker asked me if I've done any moonlighting work with any insurance companies. I really wasn't expecting that question and wasn't too sure what freelance work for an insurance company would look like. Spying on people to make sure they are really injured?

At any rate, I was pretty certain the answer was no. She said that when she called her agency today, the phone system's automated voice sounded just like me. I've had people tell me that they've seen people who look like me, but I've never heard about having a voice twin before.

Of course, whenever someone says they've seen (or heard) someone "just like me," I am always curious. Would I think they look (or sound) like me? Would seeing (or hearing) that person give me a glimpse into how others see me?

It also makes me wonder: Maybe that was me. Maybe I did once record the voice prompts for Blue Cross/Blue Shield. Or maybe they kidnapped me and hyponotied me into it. Who knows. When Kim once asked me if I was at Cardinal Fitness the night before because she saw a guy who "looked just like me," I thought, Maybe I was there. I don't know what I even did last night! Am I working out in my sleep again?

After all, apparentely I do a lot of things and don't realize it. It seems that I'm an NFL player, too. I got this envelope in the mail not long ago:

I didn't even know I was in the draft. Or that I played football. But apparently, they can just draft anyone these days. Hmmm. I guess that explains Rex Grossman. And the Cleveland Browns.

iPod? iPod? Who's got the iPod?

2007-08-22T10:34:00.000-05:00

WEDDING WEDNESDAY

(OK, I've said it before, but I am pretty sure this is really the final Wedding Wednesday.)

Much of the wedding reception is a blur. Lots of people. Much dancing. Many conversations. More dancing. Happy. Happy Happy.

What made most of it run so smoothly is that we delegated jobs to people. Shawn was the charming and in-control emcee. The caterer handled all the decorations and food. Youth Group Steve ran the iPod of music for the dance. And my sister was going to get the iPod at the end of the night from Steve since we wanted to leave early.

Well, we didn’t get out of the reception quite as early as we thought. We're talkers. There were just so many people to talk to and too much fun to have. So, when we were finally leaving, we realized that the party was pretty much over. The dancing was done and pretty much only family remained clustered around tables chatting.

We called an audible and grabbed the iPod. Might as well take it with us for the ride to Galena, we thought.

The morning after the wedding, I gave my tux to The Father-In-Law. We stayed at the same hotel and he offered to return it to the rental store with his own tux. Then, he met us back at the house for some lunch before he left for home and we drove to Galena.

Not long later, Pure Heart and I were opening a few gifts and packing for the honeymoon. I thought, Where’s that iPod? After looking around and replaying the blurry night in my head, I remembered I’d grabbed it from the reception hall…and stuck it into my tux coat pocket.

Ruh-roh, Raggy.

Luckily, everything worked out well. I called the rental place and the guy checked the pocket: still there. And then, The Father-In-Law offered to go back to the place to pick it up.

And so, we are still rockin’ today.

Todd and the Mystery of the Tall Tower

2007-08-17T08:02:00.000-05:00

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve developed a bit of an obsession. (No, not with “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Although, we did decide over lunch one day that the only reason why I like the Devil’s part so much is simply the band of demons. The devil’s playing itself is not that good, I suppose. The backing band just makes him sound better. Imagine if Johnny played with the band of demons…)

I’ve grown obsessed with this giant tower behind our building at work.

It all started at lunch one day. Intern Ethan, a kid from my youth group, and I sat at the picnic table out front. The tower peeked over the top of the building. Really, all I could see were these orange number cards on top.

And I got thinking. First I was trying to figure out what 33.0 means. And then I realized that it was probably 330 but the 0 got moved over. I am assuming it means the tower in 330 feet high. Or that it is Tower Number 330. I am not sure. That's only part of the mystery.

But what really go me thinking were the size of those numbers. From where I sat, those cards (or boards or whatever they are) seem small. But, because of the deceptive perspective shift, the narrowing of the tower as it ascends and the sheer height of the tower, I am betting those cards are really big. I think they’d easily be bigger than a person. But the truth is, I don't know.

A few days later, I stood in the parking lot staring up at them trying to figure out a fool-proof ma thematic equation to estimate their size. Soon, I realized that a group of women—returning from lunch—were all standing around looking at me. I explained what I was doing. They offered no viable solutions. (One suggested cutting the tower down, but I don’t have the manpower for that. Ethan’s internship is now over.)

A few days later, Camerin came into the office all excited. She claimed there was a helicopter buzzing around the office. She was amused because a guy was hanging out the side like in action movies. But without the machine gun. I've seen helicopters often flying around the towers out back monitoring them or something. So I went out. I thought maybe the copter would pull alongside my numbers to give me a sense of proportion. Unfortunately, the copter had moved on to another tower.

Looking at this picture, it seems that man is a bit bigger compared to the tower than I would have guessed. It makes me think that maybe the number cards are only about 3 or 4 feet high perhaps.

But still, it's a mystery. The only real solution here is that I need my own helicopter.

Quote of the Year?

2007-08-12T17:12:00.000-05:00

This weekend Pure Heart and I went to Central Illinois to visit her family. We did a lot of eating out, saw Hairspray (amazing! funny! Best Supporting Actress of the Year: John Travolta!), and went to the State Fair (where we actually ran into my dad, too).

We then went to Decatur to see the wife's grandma. We had a wonderful time and we both wish we could see her more often. She takes great care of us. I wouldn't ever make fun of her (she's a very informed, sharp and clever lady), but she sometimes says aloud whatever comes to mind. And I love it. The last time we were there, Granny gave us this wonderfully sincere quote to remember her by: "I wouldn't normally say this to anyone--but I know I am among friends: I just have to say I've become disillusioned by monkeys."

I was hoping that this visit might produce another out-of-the-blue, completely serious comment. I'm happy to report that Granny not only topped herself, but vaulted her monkey quote with this:

"Do you know what a third nipple looks like? Because I think I have one."

To be honest, this comment didn't come out of nowhere. Her son is a nurse and she was seeking his expertise. But, I sure wasn't expecting that sentence to be said. I was on my way out of the room when she said it and I decided it was best if I just kept walking.

When I came back, the verdict was that it was just a mole.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no....

2007-08-10T08:09:00.000-05:00

I had a small stroke this morning on my way to work.

I heard news that the Cubs have allegedly claimed Scott Podsednik, my favorite White Sox player, off of waivers. Now, what frightens me is not so much Scotty leaving. I am quite resigned to the fact that Pods won't be on the South Side next year. And I decided that he was a player--like Tadahito or Buehrle (had he actually been traded)--that I would continue to follow when he left.

But...

It's the Cubs.

I honestly don't know what I'll do if the deal goes through. I don't even know how serious it all is. The Cubs have reportedly until Monday to make a deal with the Sox for him. It might not work out. After all, the Sox claimed Baltimore's Miguel Tejada, but couldn't work a trade with the Orioles after the waiver claim.

I'm gonna let this pan out and if it becomes a reality, I will wrestle with what to do from there. Root for the Cubs? Tell Scotty Pods that he's dead to me? Try to root for the player, but not the team? Support the Cubs during this playoff push with my guy leading them and then go back to normal next year?

It's like Harry Potter joining the Death Eaters. I need a butterbeer....

UPDATE: The Cubs and Sox never reached a deal and Pods isn't a Cub. Whew.

Uneasy On the Office Front

2007-08-10T08:00:00.000-05:00

Hector is still MIA. This is what I was afraid of when I chose not to make a preemptive strike. Back then, I always knew where he was. I could watch him. Now, he could be anywhere. Suddenly, this has turned into guerrilla warfare.

The last encounter with Hector was a frenzy of emotion and violence. I said things I don't mean and there were a lot of hurt feelings. And then, I tried to stomp on him. I swung a golf club a few times.

Now, I am no insectologist, but I can tell you this: Crickets are fast little buggers. Hector was jumping like 3 feet at a time. He's like a phantom. A really fast, small, jumpy phantom.

After the incident yesterday, I drove to my old (still un-rented) condo and got a can of Raid. I sprayed it all over Hector's area and the back corner of the office where I saw him run. If I were a betting man, I'd say that he's probably dead in a corner back there where I can't see. Or maybe he made it out of the building the way he came in.

Is the last we'll see of Hector?

Will he launch another offensive?

Will he kidnap one of my Fez Monkeys for payback?

Only time will tell.

Broken Truce!

2007-08-09T12:50:00.000-05:00

Update: Hector is gone! He left his agreed-upon spot on the ceiling. He was crawling near my chair when I tried to capture him to release him back into the wild.

He's quick though. He must have known I'd try something and darted off.

He is now at large...

Meet Hector

2007-08-09T08:21:00.000-05:00

This is Hector. He's my new pet cricket. Or, I guess, office mate.

There's a bad leak in the corner of my office. Since it's been rainy lately, water has splashed down the brick and the whole office is damp. Apparently, water is not the only thing getting in.

I first noticed Hector (thanks to Camerin's observant eye) yesterday morning. He's pretty good sized and doesn't move. I've seen him twitch or step side-to-side a few times. But for the most part, he stays right in his little spot.

The appearance of Hector has created within my office a tiny microcosm of the Iraq debate. It's a little Just War drama going on here.

Here's the dilemma: Hector has done nothing to me. He's just there. But, some people who have seen him feel that he poses an immediate threat. They would argue that I should launch a preemptive strike on hector because of the potential danger. He may jump onto my head or into my food.

On the other hand, I could live in peace with Hector. I could draw some stringent boundaries and sanctions. If he broaches those, than an attack is warranted.

For the time being, this second policy is my choice. We're getting along fine. We have an understanding--he stays in his spot, I don't squish him. We've discussed it and I think we agree on all the terms.

I'd like to give peace a chance for two reasons (besides Hector's well-being): 1) He's so big, that killing him is kinda of an icky proposition. I am fine squishing bugs, but when they get this big, it's like squishing a squirrel or something. 2) He's in a bad spot to reach. To kill him, I'd have to use my Office Golf Club or stand perilously astride my bookcase and desk.

So for now, we will see how the arrangement plays out.

Updates

2007-08-08T16:16:00.000-05:00

Not a whole lot has been going on with me lately, actually. Last weekend, Pure Heart and I saw Underdog. OK, I had to. It’s my job. But I was such a big fan of the cartoon growing up. The movie, of course, is not the same. But for what it is (and for them turning Underdog into a kid’s pet dog), it’s not horrible. There are some good nods to the old show that I wasn’t expecting, the new theme song rocks, and Puddy from Seinfeld plays Cad. It’s an average kid’s flick. Still, I enjoyed coming home and watching old shows on You Tube.

We also saw Order of the Phoenix (Yay). It’s a good movie—my second favorite to Goblet of Fire in terms of the movies. There are some really cool moments visually. I loved when Dudley and Harry are running from the fish-eye lens. The director is top notch. Glad he's doing movie 6...

Watching the 5th movie after finishing the final book was weird. (The wife and I finished at 2 in the morning one night a couple weeks ago. Once you hit chapter 26, you have to press on toward the end. We were both very, very pleased.) Anyway, I now know how it all ends so watching Order of the Phoenix was neat because you're seeing things forming--while knowing what they lead to! I also liked watching the movie and imagining how book 7 will look on screen. Oh man.

Here's my off-the-cuff ranking of the movies so far (fave to least-fave):

Goblet of Fire

Order of the Phoenix

Prisoner of Azkaban

Chamber of Secrets

Sorcerer's Stone

I need to come up with my book rankings. Hmmm.

On Sunday, we babysat a friends’ daughter. We took her to Magic Waters in Rockford. It was fun. They have a new water roller coaster that is rocking. It’s actually really intense. My biggest takeaway of the day though is how many tattooed people there are in Rockford. Weird.

Hopefully, we’ll be singing a lease to rent my condo this weekend. While we’d rather be selling it, this is better than nothing. And even better—I’ll become a slum lord! I plan to walk around with a box of cigarettes rolled up in my shirt sleeve like the guy on One Day at A Time.

I've been enjoying the last couple weeks of White Sox baseball. We're not setting the world on fire, but we're at least playing fun-to-watch ball (for the most part). I can't help loving these guys, to be honest. I don't care how we do. I get mad at them, but I always come back. You complete me, Chicago White Sox. I think Josh Fields may be a Todd Favorite Player of the Future. I really wanted a sweep of the Tribe after a sweep of the Tigers so that I'd feel like we had an ounce of dignity this season. (I brought in a broom for Tigers Fan David on Monday. He hated that.) But 2 out of 3 from the Indians would be great.

I have noticed that these winning ways coincide with the re-introduction of a certain player. Hmmm. So, for good measure:

The Need for Good Rehearsal

2007-08-08T08:17:00.000-05:00

Wedding Wednesday
At our wedding rehearsal on the night before the wedding, some of the groomsmen and I noticed the TV screens throughout the church had the church calendar up.

We liked the fact that at 6:00 was the wedding rehearsal--and at 6:15, if things didn't go well, there was a DivorceCare meeting.

Luckily, the rehearsal went quite well. And got us well-rehearsed and ready for the big day.

In fact, one of the flower girls had been waiting for the rehearsal. She showed up in brand new shoes and told me, "They're my weddin' shoes!" Because she had the shoes and everything, I said, "Then you must be already, huh?"

The 3-year-old looked at me and said, "Duh, I have to rehearse first!"

Don't Overcook Your Pancakes!

2007-08-07T07:42:00.000-05:00

I haven't really been remembering my dreams lately, which is odd because I normally have such long, vivid, movie-like dreams I remember in great detail. I actually can't recall a real in-depth ,strange dream I've had in over a month.

The last one was right before the wedding. It was the return of my fighting-zombies dreams. I hadn't had one of those zombie/vampire dreams in about a year. I even used my trademark wooden bat to fight them off--just like in my old fighting dreams. It was great.

But last night's dream topped it. Here's the gist: The wife and I were back in Europe with a group of teens. It was my Dad's birthday, so I decided to treat him to pancakes. I went to this little kitchen in the hotel lobby and started making these simply perfect pancakes on a griddle.

I had one pancake left when my wife and a teen girl came over. They needed help with a vending machine. I went with them to check it out. After we got it working, I saw there were baseball cards inside the vending machine. Ooh, I thought, Baseball cards! I started to count out money to get some. ..

That's when I remembered, "My Pancake!"

When I got back to the griddle, I found that I'd left the pancake on too long and, OF COURSE, it turned into a baby. When I saw this, it was if it made perfect logical sense: If you burn a pancake, it turns into a person. I grabbed the little boy off the griddle and he had toasted buns.Literary. And so I scrubbed the black toasted stuff off his bum. When I was done, he'd aged to be a 3-year-old Italian kid with black curly hair. He said it was time for his birthday party.

Again, I got distracted because a teen girl had wandered off by herself. And she left the hotel. Now, I'm not a very good chaperon in my dreams apparently. Before I caught up with her to bring her back to the hotel, I got distracted again by a band playing in a little restaurant. There was a boy playing tympani, two girls on horns and their mom playing a purple hippo squeeze toy.

I eventually got bored and left again to go sight-seeing. I saw Holyrood Palace and the Tower of London. Then, my wife picked me up in a white van and told me she wanted to show me her favorite thing in Europe. We drove over London's Tower Bridge (and saw a second one in the distance) and then onto a Pier. Off to the right was the Eiffel Tower. "There," she said, "Is my favorite sight." It was a submarine in a lagoon right in front of the Eiffel Tower. I was impressed.

The Legend of Dancing Susie

2007-08-01T07:49:00.000-05:00

WEDDING WEDNESDAY!

One of the most frequently asked questions after the wedding from quests was, "So what was the giant box wrapped in cartoon wrapping paper?"

During the reception, I hadn't even noticed the giant gift. But as friends carried the box out to load it up (seemingly on a flatbed truck), I saw it. It was huge. From the Transformers and Scooby Doo wrapping paper, I knew it must be from my old Youth Group kids. Actually, I feared maybe they gave me one of the Youth Group kids.

It turns out it was an old water heater box. When we lifted the top off, we discovered loads of camping gear taped all around the sides. It was a generous gift--with excellent packaging.

This wasn't the only fun and creative gift. The other one was very well expected--and feared.

It all started at Christmas probably 3 to 4 years ago. The Bible Study Group I was in had a Christmas party with a white elephant gift exchange. At my turn, I chose a long, squishy package and opened it. Inside was a doll with a plastic face, blue hat and long, expandable arms. She was called Dancing Susie. The idea was that kids could strap her feet onto theirs, grab her arms and dance the night away (until bedtime at 8, I suppose).

Well, Susie was kinda weird but not that big of a deal. Yet, Joey--who had brought this as his White Elephant gift--was cracking up. "Turn her over," he said. I did, and found that Susie had two faces! When her hat was pulled up over her face, she revealed a boy face on the back of her head. Creeeepy. It got worse. One night, she randomly began to talk and sing. Even worse: The batteries were dying so it was a low-pitched, slow garble. Creeeepy.

Because of how strange Susie is--and frankly, how afraid of her we all are--she began to be passed from person to person. Sometimes, she'd be in a gift to another member of that study group. Other times, she'd be hidden in a house to be discovered later. She's moved around a lot.

And so, I was expecting to find her in a wedding package. Especially when I saw that the matted picture guests signed had this note:

"Muhahahaha. -Dancing Susie."

But as Pure Heart and I opened gifts, we saw no Susie. I started to feel relief. But then, we got down to the final box.

And there she was.

The best part really was that the person responsible (yes, I know who you are...) dressed Susie up for the occasion. She was very cleverly dressed as a bride...

And a groom...

Goo(ch)dbye, Tadahito

2007-07-31T10:14:00.000-05:00

This is a weird photo for me to see. Aaron Rowand and Tadahito Iguchi together again...but wearing red? I may never get used to seeing my boys in other uniforms. And because Aaron and Tadahito were members of that 2005 squad, there's an extra sadness. One by one, that team is leaving.

And with Freddy, Aaron and Gooch now all on the Phillies, I think I've found my National League team to root for this season. How can I go wrong following them? They are practically an extension team of the Sox. Therefore, I was very pleased last night as Aaron and Gooch combined their magical powers to drill the Cubs. Yes. If my White Sox can't be better than the Cubs, than maybe the White Sox East can.

Tadahito's departure to the Phillies last week wasn't a big surprise. But I wish we'd gotten more for him than a Jumbo Pretzal. Some cheese would have been nice to go with it. I think my wife was happy with the trade though. Now it's less likely that I will push for our first son to be named Tadahito (or Todd Ahito).

To mark the Gooch's departure, I wrote a poem. It's called, "Goodbye, Tadahito":

Goodbye Tadahito,
We knew you not enough.
After all, you didn't speak English.

But you didn't have to.
You spoke Baseball.
And World Series Championship.
And, well, Japanese.

So, as you depart,
I think of our memories.
Of the clutch hitting.
Of the quiet hustle.
Of your ridiculous dives for grounders.
Of explaining to people that we weren't booing you.
We were saying, "Gooooooch."
And, lastly, I think of your silly, but adorable, grin.

And so, Gooooooch, I say to you:
Domo Arigato, Mr. Iguchi.

Smokin' Fiddle Thoughts

2007-07-31T10:09:00.000-05:00

I've been listening a lot lately to Charlie Daniel's "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," and you know, I am not so sure Johnny won that duel. I mean he plays pretty good fiddle, but my favorite part of that song is when the Devil and his band of demons plays. It's just so good.

I have to give the devil his due here. I think he was cheated out of this Battle of the Bands. I don't know who was actually judging them, but I doubt their credentials.

Maybe I need to pray about this...

Top Ten Cool Things of the Trip

2007-07-26T21:21:00.000-05:00

The above picture is from Salisbury Cathedral in England. It's one of my favorites. Being there a couple weeks ago reminded me of the first time I was there. My college roommate Gene and I were doing an independent study over Christmas break in 1998.

Two days before Christmas, we took a train to Salisbury. We walked around the town pretty aimlessly. And then, we turned a corner and boom--after acres of flat, green yard rose this massive brick Cathedral as if it just dropped there. It was impressive.

The second cool moment of that day happened after we toured the church. We were walking through downtown Salisbury on cobblestone streets, eating roasted chestnuts we bought from a street vendor and listening to a choir sing Christmas Carol. It was a very Dickens Christmas.

Now, I skip ahead to this month's trip. It too had magical moments. Here are 10 experiences that made the trip:

10) Traditional English Tea. In Durham, England, the director of the tour company met our group's adults and tour guide for chat about how things were going. She took us to a charming restaurant for a regular English tea with scones. It was delightful and very, very British. I even learned to pour the milk into the tea cup before the tea. And yah, it does taste better.

9) Living with Youth. Anybody who knows me knows that I am really about 12. It's why I still work with youth--I am pretty much one of them. I have a lot of fun with whoever I am with, but teens can bring such joy and energy to life. I just love it. There's such vibrant life. There were moments of pure fun with the high school students on the trip. They gave me a nickname (Chad Scott Toddler. Long story). And they joined me in my goofy travel pictures (a tradition I started with my college roommates.) At Hadrian's Wall, a girl and I did the requisite Karate Kid pose on old pillars and one guy took this picture of me in Edinburgh.

Here's the story of why I am spitting on Scotland: This heart on the pavement marks the site of an old prison where citizens were wrongly held and tortured. The people of Edinburgh hated this prison. They felt it oppressed the heart of the people. And so, when it was torn down, they marked it with the heart. The people so hated that prison, they would spit on the marker to show their disdain. And so did I.

One of my favorite moments with the teens was at Versailles. One of the ornate murals depicted a very romantic rendition of the artist himself painting a picture surrounded by cherubs. "Oh, I said, so that's how all this was painted. I bet all the floating naked babies helped." One of the kids didn't miss a beat and said dreamily, "And the paint is made of love..."

8) The Crag. I like to climb stuff. I'm not like a full-blown climber with rappelling equipment or anything, but I love hikes in areas I'm visiting. I've climbed smaller mountains in Alaska and in Colorado. And in Edinburgh, we spied a crag from the grounds of Holyrood Palace. While we didn't have time to climb it then with all the kids, Pure Heart and I decided to take any volunteers up after dinner. Six went with. We got amazing views of Edinburgh, had great conversations, and worked off a filling meal of Bangers and Mash. Oh, and took funny pictures, too!

7) Castles. Not much more needs to be said. I love castles. We saw several amazing castles in Edinburgh (pictured below), Stirling, Durham, London, etc. Loved it. I wish I lived in a castle.

6) Discovery. One of my favorite parts of traveling is unknowignly stumbling onto something that blows your mind. My favorite memory from when I traveled to Germany, Austria and Switzerland on a group trip (much like this tour) after my senior year of high school was one of these accidental discoveries. During a long free time in Lucerne, Switzerland, my friend Eric and I decided to go do shopping.

Before we knew it, we were outside the main shopping district. We were in a residential area. And we were lost. As we wandered around we found this old medieval wall that used to surround the whole city. Only 12 of the original 80 towers were left. We got to climb it and had amazing views. It was almost better because 1) no one else on the trip had found it and 2) it was something that seemed like ours because we were told about it or taken there--we discovered it.

On this trip, my wife and I were on free time in York. Most of the group went shopping. We ate lunch and then popped from shop to shop. I saw a sign that said "Castle Area." I was like, "Oooh, a castle!" We followed the signs to find only a shopping center. Oh, I thought. I guess that is just the name of the shopping district. But then, we turned a corner and saw Clifford's Tower. Among all the shops and praking lots, was this big green hill with a massive, round castle keep jutting from the top. We hadn't ever heard of it or anything, and so it became one of those little special Easter eggs.

5) Traveling with the Wife. Other than our laid-back short-distance trip of a honeymoon, this was out first time traveling together. Now, because we were with 22 high school students, it was not romantic or like "our" trip. In fact, we saw many of the sights with her at the front of the group and me patrolling the back of our group. We'd meet up later and be like, "That was cool, huh?"

But still, we got to share the experience. We held hands under the Eiffel Tower, took pictures of us in front of amazing sights, learned history together and made fun discoveries. It was all the more special that we were in England, the place which she'd told me on our first e-Harmony correspondence was her "heart's home." I cannot wait to return and share it again--without 22 friends.

4) Conquering the French. I took two years of French in high school, and I remember only the very very basics (and how to announce I'm taking my sheep to the pool.) Being in small French towns, I regretted that I remember so very little of the language. I wanted to talk to the people and let them know that I wasn't an ignorant American (OK, point taken). I also needed to find the right stamps to mail postcards.

All morning on the bus ride, I studied the French phrase book and took notes on how to ask for stamps. After a very bad experience (more on that in the 5 Lowlights List), I walked into a small Tabaac. I was stressed out. In French, I asked the clerk if he spoke English. He said, "Non." So, I mustered up courage and started rattling off the French I taught myself, "What is the postage to send a postcard to the United States?"

Somehow, he knew what I said. He held up a sheet of purple 86-cent stamps. "Oui!" I said. He repeated: "Oui!" And then he asked something that I assume was, "How many?" I held up 6 fingers. And so, capitalism was completed and I walked out of that shop triumphant.

3) Those Intangible Local Moments. There are some moments in traveling that just hit and you go, "Am I really here? Am I in a postcard?" These experiences are made by those little details that seem surreal:

Being on a Scottish slope with the breeze blowing and only the sound of sheep bleating around you. Watching the Tower Bridge lifting to let a boat by. Walking alone through a small local French market, hearing music, feeling excitement and smelling food. Running down a small dirt road through French farmland--like Allied troops laden with gear would have done. Eating a pastry in the center square of York with pigeons all around. Seeing a French woman walking her bike down the street--with a long loaf of French Bread on the back. These are just special moments.

2) The Day of D-Day. One morning on the trip, we awoke at 5:30 a.m. on a boat. We were approaching the coast of France. The beaches of Normandy. Like on D-Day, we arrived across the English Channel early in the morning. And for us too, it was our longest day (and most moving). With an expert World War II guide, we visited Utah Beach, Omaha Beach, Pointe du Hoc, Sword Beach, and the tiny town of St Mere Eglise (where a U.S. parachuter was stuck on the church steeple--as seen in The Longest Day). I was familiar with all these locations from reading, from WWII movies and even from video games.

It all becomes so much more real when you are there. When you stand on the beach that early and breathe in the cold air. When you see how the land is still pocked and cratered form massive shelling. When you stand on a French dirt road, look over the fields and don't have to worry about someone shooting you. When you smell the death lingering in the bunkers.

The day ended with a visit to the American Cemetery overlooking the beaches. It was far more emotional and striking than I imagined. And I knew it would be both moving and impressive. But this is a very well done tribute. My wife and I both teared up a few times because of seeing older men walking through the seas of white crosses, obviously looking for comrades and friends. It also made me think how lucky all of us are who had grandfathers return from World War II.

1) Living History. The thing that struck me about all the sights on this trip was that it was about more than WHAT we saw. Each building was pretty or majestic or ahead of its time, sure. But what really gets me was the sheer idea of history in each and every place. This isn't just a magnificently ornate room with actual gold trim, but right there, that door is the door Marie Antoinette fled through from rioting French citizens. (Dang French.)

Below is Holyrood Abbey, the remains of a massive cathedral destroyed by anti-Catholic rioters. I was obsessed with this structure. It has such history and nobility. It's a tribute to the Scots that they've let it stand (even after the roof fell in during the 18th centry) to echo the history it's seen.

We'd see cathedrals that weren't just awe-inspiring because craftsmen were able to do that in the 1100's, but because of the role they played in the reformation, literature, politics, the coronation of kings and queens. We ate in the pub where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien would meet with the Inklings and read their new works. We saw where John Know led a reformation in Edinburgh. We observed the items around Oxford College that inspired Lewis Carroll to go to Wonderland. We walked where William Wallace did.

We saw History.

D'oh!

2007-07-25T17:08:00.000-05:00

Over at the site for The Simpsons movie, you can make a Simpsons character of yourself.

So, I couldn't resist. Here's Todd as a Simpson (I'm the one with the blue T-shirt on, not the one passed out):

The Return of Wedding Wednesday! Yah!

2007-07-25T07:54:00.000-05:00

Wedding Wednesday!
I had thought that my weekly Wedding Wednesday updates were going to end once the wedding happened. But I've decided to bring them backbecause I'm getting married again. Haha. Just kidding.

Instead, I'm gonna keep Wedding Wednesday going in order to tell some wedding stories that got lost in the shuffle of the England trip.

Today, I just wanted to quickly share something that made me really giddy: The gift for our four excellent ushers. (As you can no doubt tell, I had way too much fun with the gifts that my Bride and I gave to others.) We bought all the ushers Best Buy gift certificates. When I saw that you could buy the gift cards in CD gel cases, I thought, This is just too good not to have fun with...

And so, I made a special cd cover using a pun on "usher" that was all Pure Heart's idea.

Next week on Wedding Wednesday: The "special" gifts we received from others...

The Big Question

2007-07-24T09:02:00.001-05:00

I almost forgot to address the question I'm sure all PTOIT reader(s) are wondering:

Did The Todd Give France a Chance?

The answer: I did. (Even though I didn't get the chance to take my sheep to the pool!)

In fact, I now have an updated stance on France. I no longer hate France. No, I didn't see anyone wearing berets (except for tourists). No, I did not spot any pencil-thin mustaches and long cigerette holders. In fact, having now been to France, seeing it's enchanting countryside, sitting in awe of how greens are more green and blues are more blue, and soaking in it's local flair, I now submit Todd's New Official France Stance:

I like France a lot. It's just too bad the French live there.

(More on that in the Bottom 5 Not-So-Goods coming soon.)

Thoughts On Going Away...And Going

2007-07-24T08:58:00.000-05:00

The big Scotland/England/France trip was one of those times that feel as if time flies by--but, at the same time, also feel like 2 weeks laste about 2 months. When I returned to work this week, it seemed as though I was gone longer than I thought. My office was covered in a thick coating of dust, cobwebs and even moss.

Apparently, my work friends missed me very much. (And had little to do.)

I didn't expect any pranks to have occured while I was gone, but I was very amused by it. The cave look was well done. I was concerned that the "dust," aka powdered sugar, would be a pain to clean up. But actually, it was a cinch to clean thanks to a dust buster and lots of furniture polish. Besides, had the pranksters not done the dust coating everywhere, I wouldn't have gotten one of my favorite parts: the spot on my desk where someone (you know who you are) wrote "Wash Me" in the dust.

Because so much time has elapsed since we left--and much happened on such a whirlwind tour, I'll try to recap the highlights in more detail later this week in a list of the Top 10 Coolest Trip Stuff--and a Bottom 5 List of the Not-So-Cool Stuff.

To kick off the Good and the Bad Lists, I have an important report to submit. On this trip-- quite unexpectedly--I discovered Europe's very best and very worst bathrooms. Really.

My bathroom obsession started at our hotel in Harrogate, England. The hotel, The Majestic, is amazing. Right off the bat, I was very impressed with it's decor, it's rooms, it's dining room and food. And then, halfway through dinner, I found the main floor men's bathroom. I was shell shocked. In fact, I ran up and got other guys on the trip to come back down with me. I had to show it off. I've never seen a men's bathroom like this. I know women get big, fancy bathrooms all the time. Guys don't. We get caves with holes in the floor. This was such a luxury. I even took video of it. And several photos.

The room is about the size of a battleship (give or take). It's all marble and tile. There's 12 different stalls--and they aren't just stalls. They are individual rooms with wooden doors and automatic lights that come on when you enter. The sink wall in the picture is just an island int he middle of the room that separates the stall wall from a line of about 20 urinals.

On the end of the room is my favorite part: a long bench, bookended by trees. I imagine it's there so you can just sit and think about the majesty of the bathroom.

We only stayed one night in the Majestic but I tried to milk all the time I could in that bathroom. I miss being there. It was my home.

On the flip side, I also found Europe's worst bathroom. In France, they aren't big on privacy or actually building bath-ROOMS. Instead, they very often only give guys walls with urinals hung on them. In one small town we visited, we saw several of these--where you'd just walk down the sidewalk and see a guy pulled up to a urinal. Here's one I used:

This one was actually a deluxe model with a ceiling and two-feet of tile before getting to the urinal. Another one we saw was literally a wall--with no doorway at all.

While I was going, some German woman was standing behind me talking on her cell phone. It was very distracting. Another woman came over and washed her hands in the sink--with me relieving myself an arms-length away. I couldn't really concentrate. I just closed my eyes and imagined I was back in Harrogate...

A Tale of Traveling to Two Countries

2007-07-21T10:56:00.001-05:00

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. We had everything before us, we had nothing before us. We were atop of castles. We were underground in the smelly metro.

This opening of A Tale of Two Cities (with my slight adaptation) perfectly describes our trip to England, Scotland and France. For 12 days, Pure Heart, two other adults and I led 22 high school students through about 980 historical and literature points of interest. And like Dickens wrote, the trip was full of dichotomies and superlatives. We were in some of the most beautiful places on Earth having fun. But then, the next moment, we'd all be cranky and beleagured. We made mistakes. We made triumphs. We were excited. We were homesick. We were energetic. We were tired. Such is a two-week rapid-fire tour with 26 people.

With how fast we had to move to take in our ambitious agenda in only 12 days (and drive from Edinburgh to Paris), we moved fast, slept little and always walked -- and walked and walked -- fast. Plus, we had normal travel inconviences: flight delays, lost luggage, local food that people don't like, etc. Really, you couldn't have been better set up for melodrama by reality TV producers. (Unless they'd sent Paris Hilton with us.)

On the way home, we all barely made our connecting flight to Chicago from London. When we arrived at O'Hare we discovered that although we made it, none of our bags did. (Cue more drama and tearing of sackcloths.) We'd heard from other people on the trip that the bags were being delivered to our homes--but only late, late at night--like after 2 a.m.

About 11 last night, a courier called and said that he'd be leaving my bag on our stoop in a few hours. When we checked at 4, it was just sitting there at the door waiting to be let inside. I find this whole thing amusing. What kind of a courier service delivers stuff in the middle of the night? I have theories:

1) My bag was not delivered by a courier service. Instead, my suitcase just came home when he got hungry like my old dog Elka would when she ran away.

2) My bag is still on London time. So by coming home at 4, he thought it was really 10 a.m.--a perfectly respectable time for a bag to arrive.

3) The courier service hires vampires.

4) Since the bags are coming from London, my sister suggests they are being sent by Owl Post (ala Harry Potter). This seems sensible since Owls are nocturnal.

5) My suitcase was brought home by Santa. (I wish I'd prepared some cookies and milk.)

Avec la Mouton

2007-07-09T08:41:00.000-05:00

Well, Pure Heart and I are off today with 22 high school students to Scotland, England and France. When I come back, I will be wearing a kilt. And no underwear.

I’ve been to England before, but not to the other two countries. I am really excited that we're driving through the Scottish and English Countryside as we go from Edinburgh down to London. I’ve never seen that part of the United Kingdom. We will then keep going south to the coast of England for an overnight ferry that will land us onto the Normandy beaches at 7 a.m. It will be my own little invasion of France.

True story: When I was very young, I actually thought that the U.S. was attacking France on D-Day since that’s where we were landing. Maybe that’s why I’ve never liked the French. Serves them right, I figured. Dang French.

And so, that’s why I am all amped up for Scotland, England, and our day of World War II history…but, I am rather apathetic about France. Co-author Camerin, a true Francophile who owns 896 Eiffel tower replicas (give or take), calls me a Francophobe. Despite my aversion, she swears I will like France. She insists the French won’t all be wearing berets, smoking long cigarettes, dressing in black and snottily reading poems about hating Americans. Oui?

She tells me I need to give France a chance. In fact, for the last several months, that’s the war she’s been waging against me: The “Give France a Chance” campaign.

She’s broken me down a little. I will give France a chance. After all, I did spend 2 years in high school French class. So I’m excited I may FINALLY be able to use the one sentence of French I still remember. Roughly translated it means, “I am going to the pool with my sheep.”

I assume it will prove very handy.

If France gives me the chance to talk about sheep, I will give it a chance.

Wedding Snapshots

2007-07-09T08:27:00.000-05:00

Before I leave for Europe and PTOIT goes on two weeks hiatus, I thought I'd post pictures from the wedding. Thanks to Laura for these. We've gotten to see a lot of great pics from June 23 in the last week. Our professional pics came in and are amazing. But it's also so neat to see the perspectives of different friends.

First, me and my momma. Awww:

And perhaps the Greatest Moment in Wedding History: Beebs, Jillio and I rocked the Bon Jovi:

We're half way there. Oh, We're living on a prayer...

Do You Have My Wallet?

2007-07-09T08:06:00.000-05:00

When I look back, Friday is kind of a blur.

It was my last day in the office until the big England trip (and only a 2/3-day at that) and so there were a few things that needed to be nailed down. My work computer once again failed me (this time continually “dumping physical memory” so that I couldn't even log in), forcing me to relocate to my old cubicle. And I had to run around a bit at lunch to do errands.

All my hustling—and the displacement of being a Physical Dump Refugee—made it hard then on Saturday to think through exactly where in my day my wallet went missing. I know I had it when I bought a machine soda at lunch Friday. And then Saturday morning, it was gone. Vanished.

I realized the wallet was gone as Pure Heart and I were pulling out of the driveway for a 4-hour drive to her Uncle’s for a picnic. I assumed it was on my dresser. Nope. The jeans I wore to work the day before. Nope. I looked everywhere. No sign. I assumed at that point I left the wallet sitting in my usual Wallet Resting Spot at work—in front of the Eagle, next to the helmet. (Only in my office could anyone use those directions…)

Because we were going to be so far away all day, I needed some reassurance the wallet was there. I called BossMan Chris. He was kind enough to run to the office for me. He called later with bad news. The wallet was nowhere to be found. Not next to the Eagle. And not in the cubicle.

This is when I began to get nervous and attempt the reconstruction of my Friday. I ran to Wheaton college over lunch and at the end of the day, I changed into my swimsuit in the bathroom and drove to a pool party. I knew that I had not taken my wallet into the pool party, but had it even made it into the truck? Or was it on the ground atWheaton? Or somewhere weird at the office?

I couldn’t do anything but think on Saturday since we were gone. The search had to wait a full day. On Sunday, I left the house at 7 for a search mission. I went to the office, to Wheaton College, to the site of the pool party. No wallet. Pure Heart and I both tore apart the house and my truck. Nothing. At the office, I even got the idea that perhaps my wallet fell from my desk into the garbage. If you’ve never gone through my office’s trash with your bare hands, please know it’s not the most fun thing to do. These people apparently eat a lot of bananas.

At this point, I was a bit stressed. Because it was nowhere, I assumed that it very well could have been taken somehow—not just misplaced. I worried about my credit cards. On top of all that, I knew I was flying in two days. What if they needed my license and my passport?

When I got home from the search at about 10, Pure Heart and I decided that we would deal with closing credit cards and all that after church. Even with all this hanging over us, we needed to go praise God. I called my main credit card and the account had been untouched since Friday, so that made me feel better.

At church, I was able to just not think about me for awhile. I just got away from my problems and focused on God. But then, during the sermon, an image literally popped in my head. It was of my brown bowling shoe—with my wallet in it. What? I got thinking, Was I even wearing those shoes Friday? Hmmm, I think I was. And what did I do with them when I changed for the Pool Party? I put them in the swim bag with my jeans. What did I do with that swim bag? I got home, hung the towel up to dry, put my jeans away and put the shoes away. If the bag was empty (and it was) and if the jeans pockets were empty (and they were) the only place the wallet COULD be was…in my shoe!

I mouthed to Pure Heart: “I have an idea!” She motioned for me to write it on the bulletin. And so I wrote, “I think it’s in my shoe!” We both didn’t want to get our hopes up, but it felt right.

When we got home, we ran to the closet and with much anticipation we looked—and there was my wallet sitting in my shoe. WHEW.

The funny part to me is that when Pure Heart was looking in the closet that morning, she actually knocked this shoe’s counterpart off of the shoe rack and sat it back up. For some reason, she never even thought to look inside them.

Hats Off (or On) to the Groomsmen

2007-07-05T13:13:00.000-05:00

The week before the wedding, I was obviously excited about a lot of different things. But I think I was especially looking forward to the rehearsal dinner. We held it at The Claddagh, a really sweet Irish place nearby. I was stoked because of this was the time when Pure Heart and I could celebrate with the very closest of our loved ones in a real informal setting.

To be honest, I was also really excited to give my groomsmen their gifts. I couldn't wait for them to see what we'd come up with. I worked really hard at getting my guys something unique and fun. I also wanted it to be something that 1) just screamed, "Todd's Wedding" and 2) was personalized and 3) was somewhat useful--and not just sit in a drawer.

Early on, I thought the perfect gift would be baseball hats, since I love the game and am often wearing one. I thought that having every guy getting a black hat to match the tuxes would be cool. But, that's not very personalized. So, I then became a boy with an impossible dream: What if I could make a special patch for each hat? However, I asked around and no one had heard of making customized patches.

Online, I only found stores that would make them in big quantities. Most places would only do a minimum of 100. Then I found a company, Stadri Emblems, that actually does a minimum of 12 and for very reasonable prices! Pure Heart and I realized that we would very easily usually use 12. We'd give one to each of the 5 guys: Doug, Marc, Josh, Jeff and Chad. And then, we could use the rest as gifts for our dads, for my super nephew (we put his on a very cute baby John Deere hat) and for the reception emcee. That left three patches: One for each of us and one for a wedding scrapbook.

And so, the dream came true.

First, I searched for every guy's favorite team in a black hat. That's not so easy. Of course, the Sox hats were a piece of cake. But finding black Cubs and Indians hats proved harder. I actually had given up on getting Marc a Cubs hat (mainly on principle, actually) until I found this really sweet black hat with a silver "C". The Indians hat was a nightmare. Since their color is Navy Blue, they just make no black hats. I finally found one on e-Bay.

Then, I started drawing sketches for the patch. I probably drew about a dozen different designs and finally went with an idea of featuring the groomsmen's red vests. Happy with one design, I sent in my order and gave Stadri my pencil sketch. They reviewed it and sent me back an artist's rendering of what I'd submitted:

Seeing it in this form, I really hated it. It wasn't their fault at all. I just didn't like my drawing of the vest. I was going for classy and clean. I got cartoon. Can't you just see Barney Rubble wearing that vest? Anyway, I didn't know how to fix it. I actually broke down and asked Designer Doug for help. He said the arm curves were the problem. They made it look silly. If I went with a straight, angular design, he said, I'd probably be happier. He was right. I looked online at tux vests, fired up my Pagemaker, and drew a more linear vest. I liked the new vest so much, that I made it bigger on the patch. This is the sketch sent back to Stadri:

That's more like it. I was really happy with that. Stadri did their magic, and I got back this:

I was super proud of those patches. The day they came in, I ran around the office showing them to people like a little kid proud of his first drawing. The next step was to iron them onto all the hats.

The ironing went fine until I got to Best Man Doug's hat. Here's what I didn't notice: While most of the hats had cloth adjustment bands, Doug's did not. His was the old plastic variety. So, I am ironing his hat with no cares in the world when I lift the iron up...and it won't move. It seemed to somehow be glued to the ironing board. Weird. That's when I figured it out: I'd melted the plastic strip to the ironing board. The hat was ruined. The iron was full of melted plastic. I panicked.

My first thought was that I needed to salvage this patch since I only had so many. I carefully peeled the hot patch from the hat and laid it aside, hoping I could re-apply it to a new Indians hat for Doug. But there's the rub: How was I going to find a new black Indians hat in less than a week? There was no way. It'd taken me forever--and e-Bay--to find the first one!

So I consulted Pure Heart. I asked her if she thought she could remove the melted strap and sew on another if I were to find a hat with a black adjuster band that I could steal. She inspected it and said it wouldn't be hard at all. And so, I went shopping. It's amazing how few hats have the plastic adjustable band anymore. After trying a few stores, I went to Wal-Mart, home of the cheap trucker hats. I finally found one for $5 that had a perfect band. I thought it's logo was especially fitting:

I ripped the band off the back and Pure Heart sewed it on. I was then able to re-iron--very carefully--the patch onto the rare Indians hat. When I gave it to Best Man Doug, he couldn't even tell that we'd done major surgery on it!

With that near-crisis behind me, I gave the guys their hats, we wore them in style at the reception and they even starred in one of my favorite candid reception shots by our friend Laura:

The Sound of Marriage

2007-07-03T07:32:00.001-05:00

From the beginning of wedding planning, music was important to Pure Heart and I. We wanted the music in the ceremony to represent us. Instead of typical procession and recession songs, we chose tunes that meant stuff to us.

She walked into Sara Groves' "Fly." For weeks leading up to the wedding, we got asked the "Are you going to cry?" question. I said that if I got past watching Pure Heart walk down the aisle, I'd be fine. But I didn't. And I wasn't. At Friday's wedding rehearsal, I knew I was doomed. A friend of ours sung "Fly" for the wedding. The rehearsal was my first chance to hear her sing it. Hearing those lyrics as Pure Heart walked toward me with her dad just rocked me. I started tearing up then--at the stinking rehearsal. So I knew I was doomed at the ceremony.

What surprised me was that during the ceremony, I actually began the tearing up before Pure Heart even came in. Seeing my Super Nephew (one of two ring bearers) being pulled down the aisle in a wagon touched me. And then "Fly" started, I saw Pure Heart looking amazing in her dress, I thought about how happy we are--and I began to blubber. Big time. The pastor, a family friend, even put his hand on my shoulder to console me. It didn't help much. I considered yanking my little decorative hankie out of my chest pocket and using it to blow my nose, but I didn't. That would have been funny. Instead, I did this lip-biting thing that I am sure looks great in pictures.

We recessed to "Ode to Joy," a song that I suppose a lot of people use. But we both love it. I wanted it because: 1) it sounds cool and 2) it's got a manly edge because it's in Die Hard. Therefore, I could pretend like I was running form the ceremony before it blew up. Yippee-Kai-Yay!

All of the customized music worked only because we had a close friend, Luis, handling the music for us. It was such a gift. He's so good. He even went above and beyond with a very special arrangement. I wanted to enter the ceremony with my groomsmen to the raucous and bombastic old White Sox anthem, "Go Go Go, White Sox." But the song, originally done in 1959 by some guy called "Captain Stubby," just doesn't fit such a dignified event. We instead wanted it to be arranged so that sounded pretty, but if you knew the tune, you'd get it. (In fact, in the program we didn't call it by name but called it "With You All the Way," a line from the song.) And so, Luis the genius sprinkled fairy dust on it and made it into this beautiful keys and cello symphony. It was actually beautiful.

At the rehearsal, Luis was excited for me to hear his version. He called me over and did a special recital just for me. And I about fainted after hearing it. It was perfect. He was so jazzed about it that instead of just playing part of it as we walked in, he wanted to play through the whole thing. I agreed. But then, it all got even sweeter. In the rehearsal, we discovered that the song we chose for the bride's maids to walk in to was actually too short. So, it got moved to when the ring bearers and flower girls entered. And "Go Go Go White Sox" was extended to play while both the guys and the girls all entered the ceremony. It was phenomenal.

The best part of the song being played was looking into the audience and seeing people cocking their heads, trying to figure it out, and then laughing when it came to them.

Marriage Update:
I was afraid it would happen. And on only my second day back to work, I forgot to wear my ring. D'oh. You really can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Back and Better Than Ever

2007-07-02T07:49:00.001-05:00

So ... I'm married!
The wedding went great, the reception was a blast, the honeymoon was a needed and refreshing get-away. Of course, I have lots of stories to share--from a wonderful period of life that spans from a morning spent decorating a church to a morning when I kissed my sleeping wife goodbye to return to work.

The wedding was everything we hoped it would be. It was beautiful and sweet. I cried uncontrollably as she walked down the aisle. The entire night was very much "us." We were surrounded by our most loved people in the world. And when it was all said and done, we were husband and wife. (You can read Groomsman Marc's great take on the wedding here.)

We returned from our week in Galena on Friday. Since then, I've just been getting used to married life, a new home and doing husbandy things like cleaning the garage. Now, I'm back to work for a week (four days thanks to to the Fourth of July) before heading out for two weeks in Europe. It's a tough life. But over the next week--and maybe more--I hope to share all those wedding stories and many pictures. (A tease: Upcoming stories will tell about the day I ruined my Best Man's groomsmen gift, the kid we stuck in a wagon, how Mark Twain tried to steal my wife, our special mystery gifts, the secret song played at the ceremony, and more...)

The one big change as far as Putting the Odd in Todd (PTOIT) goes is that my significant other can no longer be called "The Intended." I've toyed with many new nicknames: The Wife, The Mrs., etc. But she's told me for a few months that she came up with her own PTOIT nickname. On our wedding day, she revealed it to me. Her first name means "Pure" and she discovered not long ago that our last name means "Heart." So now, post-wedding, she is Pure Heart.

It is a fitting name.

The Final Wedding Wednesday

2007-06-20T14:34:00.000-05:00

Well, this is it: The last Wednesday before the wedding. And the last status report.

For the most part, the work is done. The song list is completed. Everything is ordered, planned and paid for. The centerpieces are ready to bust out. Everyone has their jobs and knows where to be and when. My self-designed stand for the cookie cake is done. All the gifts for the wedding party are bagged and ready. The program is designed and printed out. All the people are seated. The place cards are ordered. My hair is cut. And I even have my tux already (it came in early!).

So now, we can relax and enjoy the celebration. And I can sit around wearing my tux. And pretend to be James Bond.

One of the neat things is hearing friends and family talking about how excited they are for Saturday. It's gonna be a real fun party, I think. I am excited to celebrate. And for The Intended and I, seeing our loved ones all together and all happy is a huge deal. We're happy to see others' happy.

In fact, I've enjoyed being able to answer one common question this week. I've actually had 5 friends independently ask if there will be a bouquet or garter toss. The answer is no. One guy said, "Good thing. Now I don't have to bring my blow torch to burn the mother down."

Whew.

So, there's lots of excitement about the big day. But really, this is about more than a day on the calendar. I'm most excited that I get to finally live and do life with my best friend.

This will probably be the last post until July. When I return, I will--as an unnamed friend told me--"be a Mr." I then explained I'm already a Mr., but yes, I am about to gain a Mrs. How cool is that?

Uncle Moment of the Week!

2007-06-19T11:01:00.000-05:00

Every Tuesday morning I do a short bit on a local radio station about the new music coming out. Today, not long after I was finished, my phone rang. It was my brother. He had a great story I had to share.

My brother's wife called his office early this morning and was put on hold. She noticed the hold music was tuned to a local radio station, but wasn't paying any attention to it. She just put it on speaker to listen for Chad to pick up and went about whatever she was up to.

But all of a sudden, her son (the Super Nephew of mine) starts giggling and giggling. His mom's like, "What's got into you?" And so she pauses and listens to the radio playing over the phone--and realizes it's me talking. The boy recognized his uncle's voice!

I am so tickled by that. And it proves once again that everyone laughs at Todd.

Really, Officer, It's Rotten Grapes!

2007-06-16T16:44:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, I taught my final Sunday School class at my old church. To mark the occasion, I brought coffee cake and grapes. And, of course you know what everyone ate. It wasn't the grapes.

I thought, Well, these grapes will be a healthy snack at work this week. And I threw them in a Target bag full of stuff that'd been laying behind the seat of my truck.

Fast forward to today. I am driving in my truck and need something behind the seats. I reach back and root around...until my hands feel something squishy. The grapes!, I think. Crap. So, I make a move to yank the Target bag out so I cannot forget to throw away the browned and liquefied grapes. Yanking was the problem.

Apparently, I didn't have the grapes' ziploc bags ziplocked. With the yanking, grape juice flies everywhere in the cab.

That's when I notice the smell for the first time. Longtime readers of PTOIT will remember the last time I let food decompose. It stunk.

This is different. That's right: my truck smells like wine. I am dead serious. I can still smell it on my fingers--they smell like alcohol. This isn't so bad. I kind of like the smell. It's sweet like a white wine. I even considered drinking some of the fermented grape juice out of the bag...

However, the smell could be dangerous.With my luck, I'm fully expecting to be pulled over by a cop. The Intended says that when I got pulled over on Memorial Day for drinking, the cop let me go because he couldn't smell anything.

Now he'd smell it. It hit him like a brick wall when I roll down the window. And my only defense will be, "OK, so I had these grapes..."

Cleaning Up

2007-06-13T07:22:00.000-05:00

I love my job.

So, last Friday was Clean-Up Day. We have this event every June. We spend the morning cleaning our offices, we have an outdoor lunch and then the afternoon is usually full of fun. For instance, for my first couple of years, the afternoon was filled with an Olympics where departmental teams would compete in games like Scattergories and Pictionary and Bocce Ball.

Two years ago, my friend Emily took over and breathed new life into the day with an amazing variety/talent show (where I embarrassed myself in front of everyone with improv comedy).

Last year, we were told that Clean-up Day "is about cleaning up." And so, that's what happened. The fun was drained out of it. We worked, ate lunch, went back to work, and then about a quarter of the company came back outside for a lawn concert with Warren Barfield.

This year, our events committee chose to blow the roof off. We held an interdepartmental Heptathlon. In addition to events in Pictionary, Cornhole (or Bags), a Golf Challenge game, Croquet and Bocce, we also rented these big blow-up games from a local party rental place. We got a 52-foot obstacle course and the day's big fave, the Velcro Wall.

Here's the obstacle course:

Because I was on the committee and had to judge games, I didn't really get to compete for my Media Group's team. (We're the consumer group. And so, we named the team: The Consumering Fire.)

For me, the best part of the day was "testing" the inflatables before anyone else came outside. Clay, Phil and I ran the obstacle course. Clay, Kim, Emily and I goofed around on the Velcro Wall.

Here's Clay:
Emily:

Me:

The Consumering Fire ended up winning Third Place in the games that day, mainly because of David. David, who does marketing for our magazine and runs our MySpace page, participated in every event several times and racked up mega-points. Here he is scoring a 9 in the Velcro leap:

The only competing I did was in the Velcro Wall. But I didn't really do that well. I got a high score of a 6. No upside-down stuff for me. (However, The Consumering Fire did go on to WIN the Velcro Wall event. Thank you, David!)

Most of my day was judging the Bags games:

While this wasn't quite the high energy entertainment of the inflatable games, I did have fun running Bags. Actually, I was surprised how many people wanted to play the game. We had a line 4-teams deep at one point!

That goes to show how good the day went over. This was a much-needed morale boost to the company. There's such a tangible shift in attitude and spirit change around here it seems. There was so much laughter. Almost everyone stayed outside to either participate in or watch the games. In fact, there were dozens of chairs set up around the Velcro Jump.

And who can blame them. Watching co-workers stuck on flypaper is pretty funny:

The Bachelor Party

2007-06-11T11:52:00.000-05:00

Saturday was designed to be my Perfect Day. And it nearly was.

Best Man Doug (with help from the groomsmen and ushers) planned an amazing day. In fact, Doug said that he actually got it deemed International Todd Day. I am not sure what it takes to actually get an international holiday declared, but it seems like it would take a lot of paperwork, so thanks to Doug for that. That's why he's the Best Man.

The Day started early. Marc (read his take on the day here) picked Doug and I up at 7 a.m. for breakfast at Seven Dwarfs Restaurant, the little hole-in-the-wall Greek place that Doug and I used to eat at every Thursday morning. I was indecisive about what breakfast to get--but, fortunately our regular waitress was there and just told me which one I was getting. That was helpful.

Then, we went golfing at the course that Doug, Marc and Emily and I have shot several times. The group increased by 3 for this--my old boss Ted, my dad and my brother jumped in. I shot two very good first holes. And then, it all went to heck.

My dad was the opposite. He had a rough start and then just went nuts. In fact, he had the best shot of the day. There's a hole with a lake between the tee and hole. To get from the first part of the fairway to the green, there's a little wooden bridge. Dad somehow managed to get his ball to go through the bridge.

I almost beat that shot though. On the same hole, my ball was a line drive -- right for the lake. I yelled, "Oh No!" but just then, the ball hit the water and skipped off the surface of the lake like a skipping stone. In fact, it bounced at least 6 times on the water's surface. It almost seemed to be rolling on the water. Ted goes, "Dude, it's gonna make it to the other side!" It finally sank about 3 feet from shore. But man, it would have been legendary had it made it to the other side!

The next stop on the Bachelor Party Gauntlet was perhaps my favorite touch. First, we added three more guys--my old youth group protege Mike, my high school friend Josh and my college roommate Jeff. And then, we arived at the Sox game 2 hours early to tailgate. I've never actually tailgated at U.S. Cellular, but have always wanted to. It was very fitting and super fun.

Any Perfect Todd Day needs the White Sox involved and so we met that quota. But even better, the Bachelor Day got it's needed proportion of Grilled Meat--a necessary man-day element.

This is when I started drinking. Someone brought Mike's Hard Lemonade and that got dangerous. I had three while grilling out and so when Chad recommended I grab a fourth beer for the walk to the ballpark, I was foolish enough to agree. (After all, it's like a 500 yard walk, you don't want to die of thirst!)

As soon as we entered the park, Jeff found Mike's Hard Lemonade on sale. With that gift added, I got to a good loopy feeling, had fun watching the game, and then didn't touch any more alcohol for the day.

However, this stop was the one black mark on the day. This is the only thing that kept it from being perfect: The Sox lost a close game that went down to the wire. A win would have made June 9 the Perfect Todd Day. Doug should have had a talk to those guys--especially Rob Mackowiak. (After all, he managed to arrange for perfect weather...why not a White Sox winner?)

After the game, we all drove to Weber Grill for dinner. Some of us made it quicker than others. My car had some navigational issues. (Surely not my fault. It's my day, I could do no wrong.) But, we eventually made it.

I'd never been to Weber before but it was a good choice because it added a second shot of Meat to the day. Really, with the Sox and Meat so well represented at my Bachelor Party, the only thing more Todd would have been if we watched Star Wars and then fought robots with the help of monkeys wearing people clothes.

It was also really great that The Intended met us all at Weber Grill. It was nice to have her involved. After all, how could my Perfect Day not include her? Awwww....

Here's a group shot she took at Weber: (The bronze guy in the middle is a statue.)

Oh, and note that Marc (far left) and Mike (next to me in the front row) are wearing Sox garb. They are Cubs fans. And so, that also made my day perfect--seeing my heathen friends coming to the light.

After dinner, we went to Dave & Busters to finish the night with lots of gun shooting and car racing. By the end of the night, my trigger finger was sore. It was kinda crazy to keep up with everyone in the busy place. But it was great having everyone there. In fact, Emily and Charissa joined us at Dave & Busters to visit with the newly Ohio-based Doug.

And that's really what made International Todd Day so great. Sure, the Sox, The Intended, all the Meat, and the Zombie Shooting made my bachelor party Todd-rific, but being with all my best friends all day is what really sent it over the top. Good friends, Good times.

(Yes, this is me and Doug in a portable love seat. What?)

Change is Strange -- But I Got My Black T-Shirt

2007-06-08T08:14:00.001-05:00

So I'm at work today wearing shorts, sandals and my army hat. I love my job. It's Clean-Up Day--a day devoted to cleaning our offices, eating, playing games and eating. We're blowing the top off of Clean-Up Day today with rented inflatables and all kinds of games. I hope all goes well.

This starts a big weekend. Tonight, The Intended and I will share a End-of-the-School-Year Celebration Dinner and then I will pick up Best Man Doug at the bus station. Apparently, he's been wandering around there since January when we thought he moved to Ohio!

Tomorrow is the big day--The Bachelor Party. Honestly, I can't wrap my head around the fact that I will be having a bachelor party. It seems weird. I am excited for it but I don't really know what to expect or quite what to think. I guess I haven't really thought that much about it since I'm still not quite grasping the fact that it's 1) here or 2) actually for me.

Maybe this is because right now, there's just so much to think about and so much change and so much surreal stuff. This wedding run-up is a lot of fun. But kinda crazy and strange. I was at The Intended's on Wednesday and I was like, "I'm gonna LIVE here in two weeks."

That night I was over there, The Incoming Sister-In-Law was working on moving out. She asked me to carry her TV down to her car. To explain what happened, it's best if I share what happened from the Incoming Sister-In-Law's perspective and then from mine:

She was thinking:

"Are you strong? The TV is really heavy and awkward. You might be fine. It's just I have no upper body strength. Oh my gosh, the TV is so dusty. I should dust it. Or I could just move it as is. But, oh, you have a black shirt on..."

What she actually said aloud:

"Are you strong? The TV is really heavy and awkward. You might be fine. It's just I have no upper body strength. But, oh, you have a black shirt on..."

I responded: "It is true: my black T-shirt does give me superhuman strength."

Don't Mind the Photographer

2007-06-05T09:33:00.000-05:00

Sunday was my last official youth group event: The End of the Year BBQ. It was a fun celebration with the kids and other leaders. We celebrated the graduating students and as a goodbye present, I was given a cool mirror lined with the faces of all the kids. When I look at me, I will see them!

The day started with swimming and scuba. I didn't scuba this year because I felt like just swimming and hanging out. So I took pictures of all the kids in their gear. This led to one of those silly, embarrassing moments where you just want to hide.

I was taking pictures of all my youth group kids in their regulators, tanks and scuba suits. And then, I saw Mike and Ethan swimming nearby with just masks and snorkels. So I got pics of them. Just feet away, two more teen guys with masks were swimming. So I took a photo of them (right).

And then...they just looked at me. One waved. That's when I realized I didn't know them.

At the risk of looking like some pervert or creep, I just walked away. Oops.

The rest of the day went better. At the BBQ, we played Bocce Ball and Bags. Our kids ate approx. 600 hotdogs. I wrestled an 8th grader (and won, thank you). It was just a nice non-stressful outing. And a good last event. But it's not goodbye. I will still be around.

Just not around those two random guys in my picture.

Thanks, Sweet Lou!

2007-06-04T09:48:00.000-05:00

When you are a Chicago baseball fan (especially this year) you look for whatever sort of entertainment you can get out of baseball. And right now, it sure isn't coming from watching these White Sox. Stupid bullpen.

Anyway, early this season Marc correctly observed that perhaps the most entertaining part of this season for the Sox and Cubs would be waiting to see which fiery manager would blow up and get ejected first.

We made a bet: If Sweet Lou blew up first, he had to display Sox pennants and such around his office. If the Blizzard of Oz exploded first, I had to hang up Cubs stuff.

Thank you, Lou. Thank you so much for winning me this bet one day before Ozzie got thrown out Sunday. And thanks for doing it with so much panache!

The best part is that because Marc is not at this office anymore, he's offered to instead wear Sox apparel all day this Saturday at my bachelor party. Sweet.

It'd only be better if we'd had an extra bet over what team would fight themselves first...

Happy Wedding 1st!

2007-06-01T07:39:00.001-05:00

According to my sister, today is not June 1st. It's Wedding 1st. Apparently, the entire month has been renamed as a dedication to my blessed union on Wedding 23rd. I am not sure that this name change is being officially recognized by most city governments, so you may have to check in your area for participation.

More Weekend Stories
So, in retrospect I'm realizing that I had a very eventful weekend last week because I still have stories to share from it. In fact, Sunday itself was pretty eventful.

That morning, The Intended's family and I went to the Cracker Barrel for breakfast. We walked over from our hotel in Des Moines. As I sat down, I noticed a black and white stripe down my brown pants. Weird. A bird has some how pooped on me during my walk to the restaurant.

I went to the bathroom to clean it up. When I entered, a small boy ran up to me. He pointed to his infant brother being changed by their Dad on the changing table and said, "There's poop everywhere!"

I thought, "You ain't kidding."

I can't speak for the infant, but my problem cleaned up really well. But still, that's no way to start your day.

On the way home from Iowa on Sunday, I turned onto a street in Sycamore and was about one block from The Incoming Mother-In-Law's house. That's when the police lights turned on. I was pulled over. The officer told me that when I had turned onto the street, I took the turn way wide and went off the road. He said, "I just wanted to make sure you were OK to drive." What a sweet guy. I assured him I was fine, and then he just let us go.

The really memorable things about this run-in with the law were:

1) The officer took awhile both before coming to the car the first time and in coming back with my license. This was really funny because we were only a block form our destination and The Intended had to go to the bathroom really badly. I kept encouraging her to just make a run for it because I wanted to see a COPS-like foot chase.

2) If you would've driven by my traffic stop, you may have thought I was a wanted fugitive. There were actually three cop cars involved at different times of the ordeal. I am not sure why exactly. Perhaps they too were anticipating The Intended running for it. Then, a fourth cop car drove by. The officer was at my window telling me why he pulled me over when a Sandwich cop (a cop from Sandwich, not like an enforcer of sandwich law) drove by and actually gave my cop a thumbs up.

It's like, "Way to go, man. Good catch. They look suspicious."

Crazy Train

2007-05-31T07:52:00.001-05:00

Last Friday night, I met my college buddy Mike downtown for the White Sox game. (Thanks to all of you who've asked--but my feet were just fine that night and are no longer rejecting shoes.) Mike and I haven't seen each other since my graduation and have only talked on IM. So, it was cool to hang with him and we saw a great Bottom-of-the-9th-Inning Winner! (And got cool free 70s-era Sox hats!)

But the real story starts after the game. Since I met Mike at the ballpark, I came down on the train and then jumped on the Red Line to the park. After the game, Mike and I caught the Red Line and I got on the 11:40 train to the burbs.

As I got on the train, I saw a young brunette who kind of looked familiar. But I shrugged it off. I found a car with very few people sitting on the top level and got a seat. When the train left, my car's upper level was occupied by: 2 uppity East Coast 20-something girls, 2 drunk Northern Illinois preppy frat guys coming from the Sox game, 2 wasted punk guys coming from a show in the city, a bouncer from some club, and me.

Trying to explain what that train ride was like cannot do it justice. It was loud, raucous and pretty hilarious from my point of view. The East Coasters were flirting with the Northern Guys. The Northern Guys couldn't see straight. The Punk Guys kept picking on the Northern Guys. The East Coasters were flirting with the Punk Guys. One kept hugging everyone who said they thought it was OK to have a home phone and a cell phone (??). I said it wasn't to avoid the hug.

Really, I just listened to my iPod and kept out of the circus. Until one of the punk guys, Tony, tapped me on the shoulder. His cell phone was dead. He asked to borrow mine. I had no problem with that. He took the phone and made a quick call.

This simple act apparently endeared me incredibly to Tony and his friend. He told me about how much he didn't like the Northern Guys--and how much he liked me. Tony told me all about the show he was at. I asked Tony if he knew Flatfoot 56--my only knowledge of the Chicago punk scene at all. He did. In fact, his drunk friend said he'd actually played a show with them in "a basement in Elgin."

With a relationship built upon my generosity with my cell phone, we bonded over Celtic rock. "I like your style, man," Tony kept telling me. "You're my friend, man. Yah."

When we stopped at one suburb, a group of kids on the bottom level got up and grabbed their bikes from the side of the car. I saw the brunette again. It was my sister's high school friend! I was like, "Kristin?" And she was like really unsure of me at first about having someone from the noisy and profane upper level calling her name. But seriously, how random is that? But it gets crazier. On that train, I also saw work friend Joel and Melissa and one of their friends we play Frisbee with.

And then, as we pulled from one stop, I looked out the window to see Jill and Leigh--fellow game attendees--waving from the platform. The entire time, they'd been sitting just one car away from my Punk Rawk Drunken Circus.

I Conquered the Cereal

2007-05-30T08:27:00.001-05:00

All that generic bulk cereal I bought is finally gone!

This morning I ate my last bowl of Fruit Rings. It took me about 5 months to get through all 11 bags. It actually took me longer than I expected but I still averaged one 32 ounce bag every 2 weeks. Some bags only made it a week. But I really slowed down toward the end here. In fact, in the last three weeks I have eaten two boxes of Mueslix as well because the sugary Fruit Rings were bugging me.

And so, with a spoonful of sugar this morning a chapter of my life comes to a close.

Weekend in Iowa

2007-05-29T08:47:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, The Intended and I drove with The Incoming Mother-in-Law to Des Moines, Iowa, for a retirement party. Sadly, it was not my retirement party. But still, we had a lot of fun on our road trip. (How could you not, what with all of Iowa's great.... you know, whatever makes Iowa great.)

I am actually convinced that as you drive through Iowa on Route 80, there's actually only a one-mile stretch of road that is looped over and over. But hey, I am from Illinois so I really can't be calling the kettle black. At least Iowa has some hills now and then.

I've never been to Des Moines and so it was pretty cool. (Add one more to my Capital city list!) On Sunday, before the party, The Intended's Uncle was nice enough to take us on a tour to show us all the sights of Des Moines:

Seriously though, Des Moines is a really growing city and has some neat development going on. It was neat to see. Other than the tour, the trip was pretty much all about eating good meals, enjoying company and driving. On the way home on Sunday, we stopped at the gas station that my Aunt Kathy manages:

Unfortunately, she wasn't working. But I took a photo for evidence. (I am staring into the sun--not trying to be a pirate. Arrrgh.)

The only other notable trip fact is that I'm suspicious that I am being stalked by an oriole. Not like Cal Ripken...but an actual bird. On Thursday, I noticed an oriole outside my condo. On Friday evening, I was on a train and saw one out the window. Saturday morning: I saw one on my way to pick up The Incoming Mother-In-Law. And then, throughout the 4.5 hour drive to and from Des Moines I continued seeing an Oriole on the side of the road over and over.

Some may assume that there's just a lot of orioles out. I, however, think there may just be one. And he's following me around. He's everywhere. At first I thought he might be my guardian angel. But The Intended and The Incoming Mother-In-Law told me that orioles are mean and nasty. So he might be an assassin.

My Feet Hate Shoes

2007-05-25T08:49:00.000-05:00

So, really this month is much more substantial than I realized when writing the blog yesterday. Yah, May 23 was the Lost season finale and June 23 is my wedding day. But thankfully my brother (Thanks, Chad!) reminded me of another huge milestone for my life: Today is the 30th Anniversary of Star Wars.

Thirty years ago, I was an adorable little 4-month old. Little did I know that Luke, Han and Chewie were also born and changed my life. We've come a long way, Star Wars.

To celebrate, I'm gonna wear my gold bikini all day long.

More and more, it seems 2007 is becoming the Year of the Todd: 30th Birthday, 30th Anniversary of Star Wars, Wedding, Europe Trip, the final Harry Potter book. I can barely stand it all.

From one nerdy subject to another: I think I am turning into a Hobbit.

For the last three days, my feet hurt so bad any time I wear shoes--any shoes. When barefoot, they feel fine. But in shoes, they are incredibly cramped, pinched and aching. It's unbearable. I've had to take my shoes off in restaurants, movie theaters and at work. What am I going to do at the White Sox game tonight?

My theory is that I am slowly becoming a Hobbit. Part of the evolution is apparently discomfort with shoes. I have noticed no sudden hair growth on my feet however. They just hate shoes.

The other solution of course is that my feet are suddenly growing exponentially.

Two Big Life Events-One Month Apart

2007-05-24T08:03:00.000-05:00

Best Man Doug calls me early every Thurday morning on his way to work to replicate our old Thursday breakfasts. This morning I greeted him with, "At this time in exactly one month, I will be waking up as an old, married guy." That day, June 24, will be my first full day as a husband.

Crazy.

Being May 23 yesterday, the Intended and I weren't sure how to celebrate our -1 month wedding anniversary last night. But we watched the uber-good season finale of LOST, so that was cool.

CAN you believe Marc is leaving?

2007-05-23T07:53:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is Marc's last day, so a proper goodbye was in order. This morning, his office was full of aluminum cans. Why? Well, Marc loves Mountain Dew. He drinks approx. 5.25 cans a day. And so that leads us to what the entrance to his cube looked like:

A giant wall of green cans. In fact, several of them were actually consumed by him--as you can tell by the initials on them.

The culprits had been saving these cans for a long time, stealing them from Marc's trash after he'd gone home and collecting cans from everyone they knew.

The collection of the cans started in March for Marc's birthday prank. But the culprits needed more time and hoped that Marc may forget about any prank if he was let off easy in March. Maybe he wouldn't expect an attack in, say, August.

But his resignation forced an earlier prank. The scramble for enough cans was a struggle. Truck beds were filled with bags and good old R2 held several for months.

You'll notice below that lining Marc's desk are beer cans. Reportedly, those were already there.

Among all the cans are 12 full cans of Dew Marc had in his cube. They helped with numbers...and made for a nice game out of it:

No one knows exactly who the culprits were. But surveillance cameras captured this image of the mastermind:

The Ultimate Ultimate

2007-05-22T13:30:00.000-05:00

It's Ultimate Day.

In fact, every Tuesday this summer is Ultimate Frisbee day. A group of about 6 to 10 of us from work meet out on a lot and play a pick-up game. It's really fun, the only real exercise I go in for anymore, and good bonding. I'm not that good but it's a lot of fun. And I do have my own niche play: The dive. I don't really catch anything unless I'm diving to the ground for it. I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing.

Tonight is a special Ultimate Day because--as long as he's feeling OK with his cold enough to play--it's Marc's last Ultimate Day as a company employee. He may make it some nights this summer even with the new job, but this could be it. But even with that emotional context, tonight's game cannot be the mythological game last week was. Because it's not gonna rain.

Last Tuesday night was one of those special times in sports that you just don't forget. It was one of those times when, as it was happening, you just knew, "This is special." It was like game out of The Sandlot--when sports just made everything seem right. It was one of those times when you later see someone involved and you share a nod that says, "I was there with you, brother." As Marc wrote last week, it was legendary.

It started out with us getting 10 people to show up. Not often do we have 5 on 5 games so it was more competitive and fun from the get go. And then the rain started. And it kept coming as a warm, steady wall of water. But it was a warm rain that was more refreshing than bothersome. It was just fun. No one even thought of quitting. Our shirts got heavy. You could barely throw the Frisbee because of slick hands--and nothing to dry them with. I couldn't see with my glasses full of rain. So I took them off. And then I couldn't see because hair gel streamed into my eyes. So I found an old stocking cap in my truck.

The best part for me was on one drive when I ran into the end zone and dove (as per my style) for a Frisbee. I made the catch and then....I just slid in the wet grass. It was like playing sports on a giant Slip N' Slide. I should wet down the field for my dives all the time.

Oh, I just read that Wikipedia page that I linked to above. I like that it says Ultimate is a non-contact sport. I'll try to remember that from now on.

Night of Rawk!

2007-05-21T08:05:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I went with my friend Charissa and one of my youth groupers, Ethan, to see Family Force 5 play in Orland Park. Charissa knows the guys a bit now from working on two animated movies for them (the new one is now up on FF5's myspace page). So, we went to the venue early to sit down with the guys before the show to brainstorm ideas for the third Family Force movie (oh man, this one will be the best, I think. It probably won't be done until late summer/early fall because Charissa is now being hired by my magazine to do an online cartoon series. Whoo! That should debut this summer. )

I also figured out why the band likes Charissa so much. She bakes them cookies. But as Chap Stique says, "We like Charissa for many reasons." But I think the cookies help.

I've only seen the band do one long set--at Cornerstone. Other than that, I've just seen them perform 4 song sets on tour with TobyMac or at showcases. This time, as the headliners, they did a full set with lots of talking between songs and then ended with prayer. I had the opportunity to interview the guys last year at GMA and get a sense of their hearts. So I knew they were deeper than just Hulk gloves and silly names. But yesterday I saw it even more. Talking to them candidly backstage, hearing one expressing real excitement about getting married as a virgin, seeing them glorifying Christ with their words, and ending their show with a heartfelt prayer really touched me.

Oh yah, and they also tore my face off with rawk.

The show was at a church (with a great, huge stage!) and I think the concert crowd was mainly the church's own youth group kids. We were able to get really close to the stage--and because all the concert-goers were about 4 feet tall, I had a great view of all the excitement and theatrics (including choir robes).

During one particulary booming song, the girls in front of me were jumping up and down like crazy. That's great. The problem though was two-fold: 1) They both had super long hair that kept flying up into my mouth. 2) They were short and so I was very concerned that I'd get a skull to the chin. I kept looking back to Charissa like, "Save me." But the crowd was too thick for me to move. Finally, I moved back away from them and was able to rock out hair-free.

The Final Hair Post

2007-05-21T07:56:00.000-05:00

So, I've had a couple people who I don't see often ask for a comparison of New Haircut/Old Haircut since I've talked about it so much. I figured everyone was sick of hearing about my hair, so I just let it go.

But when Marc told me that a reader of his blog commented there about wanting to see Before/After pictures, I knew I had to give the public what they want:

Speaking of my hair, I discovered that my experience actually supports an important Biblical truth. Really. And so I am producing public awareness posters:

So Many Options!

2007-05-18T08:21:00.000-05:00

Friday mornings have a whole new dimension now. There's more decision making.

Since the company has re-instituted Casual Fridays, it is nice just getting up and throwing on jeans. But now I can wear T-shirts. And I have so many shirts I want to unleash on my co-workers. Clowns eat people? Meat is Neat? Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood? Mayor of Awesomeville?

Oh, the burdens I carry. How can one man saddle all this stress?

Today I decided that I really couldn't pass up wearing a Sox shirt since it's Cubs vs. Sox weekend. I have to represent. There will be plenty of time for all my T-shirts this summer. Unless I get fired, I guess.

I've also been considering making a new shirt. The company is re-organizing into Media Groups or Franchises. Basically, like magazines are clumped together with their own support teams of marketing, internet, etc. It's a great idea, but I want to make a shirt that says, "I'm my own media group" or "I AM the franchise."

But, that would just be one more option to cloud up my Friday mornings.

Weekend Forecast:
Tomorrow is going to be a big day of errands and wedding stuff. I need to talk to the baker about my giant cookies. I need to go test the sound at the reception hall. But after all that work is done, Sunday is play time. I'm going to a Family Force 5 show. Whoo.

Boys Don't Get Hugging

2007-05-15T08:28:00.000-05:00

Last night, The Intended and I completed our tour of our sisters' graduation ceremonies. Both ceremonies were very nice. But last night's took the cake because of the unintended entertainment provided by two young boys sitting behind us. They were probably between 3 and 6 and there to see their mom graduate. I swear that the younger brother was this kid.

We were seated in tiered stadium seating with the boys right behind us. And I mean, right behind us. They weren't up in their chairs but sitting on the floor in front of their family. They spent most of the ceremony leaning forward resting their chins on the backs of our chairs. The older one was over my left shoulder. The young one over The Intended's right. At first, they would just breathe heavy and moan with boredom every so often. But then the fun began.

The younger brother began to blow loud and long raspberries repeatedly.

The thing is, we really didn't care if his dad stopped him because it was the cutest thing ever. The Intended was giggling so hard that I pretended that she was overwrought with emotion over her sister's graduation. "There, there," I said and patted her arm.

Soon the fake-farts stopped and it got better. The brothers began to repeatedly ask questions of their dad and grandparents:

"When can we go home?"

"Why are we just sitting here?"

"Why's it so dark in here?"

"Why can't I go sit with Mom?"

And then, the best part came. On stage, each graduate came forward when their name was called, received their diploma and hugged two professors. The Little Jerry Maguire guy didn't get this at all and started making a series of great comments that left me tearing up with laughter:

"Why are they hugging so much?"

"Will they stop hugging soon?"

"They hug a lot in Mommy's class."

"We don't hug in my class."

Dreams and Blessings

2007-05-11T11:05:00.000-05:00

I had a great dream last night. In it, My Intended and I flew into the London airport. Not to see London. But because there was a special Meet-and-Greet with the Osbourne family. So we flew in and she went shopping in the airport. Meanwhile, I stood in line to get autographs from Ozzy, Jack and Kelly Osbourne. After I got my signatures, I met The Intended at a Pretzal stand and we flew out to go home.

My old boss Randy sent me a great e-mail this week. I had to share it because this story shows why I have faith in the youth of America:

Rita has been helping David pray at bedtime. Like most 3-1/2-year-olds, he sticks with the known and familiar when thanking God for his blessings--mom, dad, brother, a sunny day. Last night, he added something else. This is verbatim:

"And God, just remember...Star Wars."

A boy of my own heart. God bless him. And Luke Skywalker.

Hair Yesterday, Gone Today

2007-05-09T08:02:00.000-05:00

About a week ago, I rolled over in bed and a piece of my hair stabbed me in the eye. That's when I knew, the long hair had to go. It'd gone bad.

Last night, I went back to Mario Tricoci University. It took 2 hours to get done, but it's short and spikey--it's back to the Todd cut. The temporary long hair experiment is over. I'll tell ya, it's nice to have it short again (especially as it's getting warmer out). But old habits die hard. I did a hair flip involuntarily this morning and nothing happened. That was weird.

I will miss waking up to this:

As I was sitting in the chair getting cut, I was staring out the storefront window of the University. This kid ran by. He was around 3 or 4 I think. (Honestly, I am bad with kids' ages. I'm not sure how old he was. I know that he was older than 18 months and couldn't drive yet. Somewhere in there). Anyway, as he ran by, his pants just slipped right off him. The best part was that he didn't stop at all. He just kept going. With his dad chasing him.

Full Circle

2007-05-07T07:20:00.000-05:00

This weekend served as another significant little marker on the journey I'm on right now. My Intended and I have less than 7 weeks until the wedding and one of the changes for me will be that I am leaving the church I've attended for about 8 years. I'm excited about this move. The Intended's church is a great fit for where I am spiritually right now and I cannot wait to see what opportunities are there for me. I'm ready and even aching for that change.

Still, leaving my church is kinda hard because of the relationships I've built there. Especially in my work as a youth counselor. I've worked with the youth groups (especially the junior high) since the month I first started going to this church. 8 years. That's a long time. I've met dozens of friends. I've seen once-6th graders go on to college. The other counselors are like siblings to me.

While youth group is not over for the year yet, this weekend was my last youth group retreat with this church. Ever. I didn't actually realize that until we got to the Wesley Woods Retreat Center in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. As we drove in, it looked familiar and I recalled being there twice before. That got me thinking a bit about my retreat memories: people running into the lake in January, booby-trapping windows to prevent kids from running out in the night, and skiing down a hill on my face.

Here's the house we stayed in this weekend:

On Saturday, I walked down the hill from the house and spotted through the trees a cabin sitting way back in the trees from the rest of the camp:

When I saw it, I realized that this was the retreat center where I first came as a counselor with my church. Then it hit me: Wesley Woods was the site of my first retreat--and now my last. Weird coincidence.

This long red cabin was where I first came on a winter retreat 8 years ago with a big junior high group that I hadn't met until the night we left for the retreat.

This was the red cabin where I had to park my Grand Prix up against the bedroom door so the boys wouldn't run out in the middle of the night (we had a pesky group back then.)

This was the red cabin where a 6th grader first told me that I was his friend.

This is where my youth ministry started. Before that weekend, I hadn't ever worked with church kids before. I didn't even know I liked youth ministry!

And so, this weekend was kinda sentimental. I did a lot of reflecting on where God's brought me since that first youth retreat. I thought a lot about my youth group memories. And I thought about where God is gonna use me next. Will it even be with youth (in addition to the magazine I work for)? I hope so.

Other than all that mushy stuff, I played a lot of volleyball and ate a lot of junkfood. I also spent a lot of my time being creeped out by the house we stayed in. It had this Blair Witch basement (with a lock on the outside of the door -- creeepy!) and this painting:
I can't even explain why it weirded me out--I guess because of the eyes materialize out of nowhere. But it was spooky.

This I What I Do At Work.

2007-05-04T11:33:00.000-05:00

A Real IM Conversation:

Marc: Hey - how does one earn a nickname like "The Jackal?"
Todd: Hmmm. Laughing a lot?
Marc: That's the heyena.
Todd: Oh. Eating deceased animals?
Todd: It seems that I don't actually know any distinguishing traits of the jackal, I guess.
Marc: I see on the news that Carlos the Jackal is to Face Trial in Terror Attacks in France. Do I have to be a criminal to have that nickname?
Todd: It might help.
Marc: Cause all the nicknames i've been given have been very poor.
Todd: If you like that nickname I can start calling you that and we'll see if it catches on
Todd: Do you like Marc the Jackal? Or just The Jackal?
Marc: hmm - i don't know if that has a good ring to it - doesn't flow off the tongue so well
Marc: Marc the Aardvark
Marc: No, that ain't gonna work either. Who's gonna be afraid of an anteater? Besides the ants of course.
Marc: Although, maybe it's a metaphor - i'm larger than life and everyone around me is small, like ants
Todd: That's good
Marc: Can you imagine going through life with an ego like that?
Todd: Hey, you're The Aardvark, not me.
Todd: I like nicknames with "the"
Marc: as if there is only one Jackal in the world
Todd: exactly.
Todd: I need a nickname too. Like The Ratchet
Todd: Or The Fixer
Todd: I don't know why. They make me seem cool to have in a pinch.
Marc: The Cordless Screwgun
Marc: The Beltsander
Marc: The Jigsaw
Todd: Oh, I think I got my nickname: The Hatchet
Todd: I don't know what it means. But it sounds ominous.
Marc: And I don't know why people like to bury those things either.
Marc: Do they grow?
Todd: i don't want anyone burying me
Marc: Your a cremation type of guy, eh?
Todd: Instead of "The something" you could do something like Marc Two-Toes or Six-Finger Jimmy
Todd: Six-Finger Jimmy is funny since you have 10 fingers and your name is not Jimmy
Marc: How about Jimmy Two-Face - it's just that you never actually see Jimmy - you normally see Marc - but Jimmy is there... lurking .... just don't cross him
Todd: oooh, I like that
Todd: Jimmy Two-Face and The Hatchet.
Todd: We're two really scary guys now
Marc: indeed
Marc: i just re-read that new dress code. Glad we can wear blue jeans on Fridays now. But stretch pants can't be worn - i guess i won't ever be wearing my Nacho Libre costume here at work.
Todd: haha. But...crap. Now I have to go home and change.
Todd: Are tube tops OK?
Marc: great - now you just brought back that old mental image of barry bonds in a tube top
Todd: Take that, Two-Face!
Todd: That's what The Hatchet does.
Marc: you are living up to your name
Marc: whatever that means
Todd: Yah, I don't really know what "That's what The Hatchet does" means.
Todd: But I think it's my catchphrase.
Marc: some might argue that The Hatchet chops wood - but those people would only be partially correct
Todd: Yah, 'cause apparently "what The Hatchet does" also means that I give people bad mental images of tube tops.
Marc: I have to say - we haven't had a conversation this bizzare in a long time - I'm claiming that the blue jeans have brought back our creativity.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

2007-05-01T10:17:00.001-05:00

So the final gift that My Intended and I opened at the Wedding Storm was from Emily and Esther. It's a nice wooden serving tray. But it's not any old serving tray. They customized it for us. It's a fantastic Star Wars serving tray--with pictures of the three original movies forming the background.

When I first opened it, that's all I really noticed. Cool, Star Wars. And then, I looked again. Those aren't pics of Han and Leia. They are pics of me and My Intended as Han and Leia.

While I am thrilled to finally have a photo of myself with a wookie in the background, that Han Solo hair is just ridiculous. And what is my face doing? I have no idea. It's kinda freaky. (Although not as creepy as it would have been had My Intended been pictured as Leia and I was Luke. Awkward.) But still, this is one weird image. Just ask Emily's roommate Charissa. She sent me this story in an e-mail:

"So I was lying in bed Saturday night after The Storm, and I put my hand under my pillow to feel thick paper under there. I have this Classic Crime poster above my bed so I thought maybe it had fallen down (although looking back on it, i don't know how a poster of that size could fall under my pillow without me seeing). I turned on my lamp and pulled the paper out to see it. The first thing I saw was that scary picture of you as Han Solo! Apparently Emily thought it would be funny to print out the pic and stick it under my pillow to frighten me at night! I totally screamed and threw it on the floor. It was great."

Honestly, I don't know if I should be more amused by the funny prank or humbled that my picture is used to scare people...but, I mean, look at it. That would be freaky late at night. Or anytime.

Anyway, this gift is right up my alley--geeky, fun, and personal. Plus: It's functional; I'll use it to serve blue milk to Aunt Beru (that joke goes out to any other SW nerds out there.)

Wedding Wednesday on Tuesday

2007-04-30T17:09:00.000-05:00

Well, here was my plan: I was going to write today about my cool shower gift from Esther and Emily and then do a bunch of Wedding-themed stuff tomorrow on Wedding Wednesday. But that didn't work out. The disc that I brought in with the gift photos is all screwed up and hence, no pictures today.

So, I am going to push that off to tomorrow. And move Wedding Wednesday up a day.

This Saturday will be seven weeks away from the big day. We're in the final stretch. We have RSVPs coming back. And we're trying to hit all of the little details. There's just a lot to think about. Weekends are fun because I usually get to cross off several things from my To Do Lists. I've been working on Groomsmen gifts, a present for My Intended, the reception music on our iPod and the ceremony program design. I really like that The Intended and I are both so involved in all the details. Creating this whole day ourselves will make it more special.

On top of all the little details, I now have a new concern: That I will be so drunk at my ceremony that my brother will have to take my place. Hey, it happens.

And now for some marriage levity. Here is one of those e-mail forwards about the things kids say:

HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY?
You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming. -- Alan , age 10

No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with. -- Kristen , age 10

WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?
Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person forever by then. -- Camille , age 10

HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?
You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids. -- Derrick , age 8

WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?
Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough. -- Lynnette, age 8

On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date. -- Martin, age 10

WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?
I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns. -- Craig , age 9

WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?
When they' re rich. -- Pam , age 7

The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that. - - Curt, age 7

The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do. -- Howard , age 8

IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?
It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them. -- Anita , age 9

HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?
There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there? -- Kelvin, age 8

No Storm Warning

2007-04-30T08:26:00.000-05:00

A funny thing happened on my way to play poker.

On Saturday night, I was invited over to Marc's to play poker with a group of his friends. I've joined them for this manly tradition of card, pizza and beer once or twice before. The Intended had a girl's night with some teacher friends so I got my bag of coins and showed up.

Well, things didn't go as planned. As I walked in the front door, the first thing I saw was a camera aimed at me. I registered that Emily was behind it. And then I saw black-and-white balloons. And then I realized there were lots of people in the living room--all looking at me. And as my eyes made it around the room, I saw that My Intended was also there. Weird. I really didn't know what was going on here. If they yelled "Surprise!," I missed it because of my thick daze. So I just said, "Hey, everybody..."

Of course, I realized quickly that I'd been tricked and this was some party for me. But, honestly, it took me several seconds to realize what the party was for. I knew it wasn't my birthday, but I just couldn't register why I'd been surprised. And then it clicked: It was my wedding shower (or as we call these occasions for men, it was my STORM.)

The theme of the party was baseball. Everyone had on their favorite team colors and apparel (I luckily was wearing my Sox hat.) Mark made a baseball diamond table cloth. Charissa made baseball cookies. The streamers and balloons were White Sox white and black.

One big surprise was that Best Man Doug was hooked up via computer camera so I got to say a live hi to him, his wife and daughter. This was just one of the many great touches the group put on this party. I was touched.

We had a lot of fun. I got to see friends I haven't seen in so long. We laughed a lot. We got great, generous gifts (more on that tomorrow. There's one you have to see to believe!) And My Intended, Marc, Charissa and I ended the night with a rousing game of Yahtzee! (Marc won.)

When I told Designer Doug here at work this morning about my surprise Man-Shower, he said, "Well, that's better than being surprised by a man in your shower."

Too true.

The GMA Recap

2007-04-27T08:18:00.000-05:00

So let's start at the beginning: GMA is a Sunday to Wednesday convention built around the Gospel Music Association's Dove Awards on the Wednesday night. The event draws Christian music artists, labels, radio, print media, unsigned bands looking for exposure, music business pros, etc. We all stay in two hotels about 2 blocks from each other in downtown Nashville. There's seminars, music showcases, and lots of schmoozing.

For me, it's all about interviewing artists. In three days, I can get all the interviews I need (and more) for an entire year of the mag. Besides, a face-to-face interview is so much more effective and personal than a phoner. I conducted 21 real interviews this year (I met with about 15 other artists at a meet-and-greet that I'll get to later.)

This year at GMA seemed a lot more mellow than in years past. Maybe there were less people there? There just seemed to be a different vibe. Nonetheless, it was fun.

Here's what I was up to:

SUNDAY
I interviewed new artists Two Empty Chairs and Nate Huss to start the day. Then, Russ and I double-teamed an interview with the Desperation Band, the worship band at New Life Church--the church that belonged to Ted Haggard. We talked about moving on when leaders fall.

I mentioned when I blogged earlier this week that Jim Caviezel showed up. When I was leaving the Desperation Band interview, one of the guys was like, "I just got a text. Jim Caviezel is downstairs!" We all went and looked. He was in the little bar section of the hotel doing a meet and greet. Jesus in a bar? Funny.

Later, like I wrote on Monday, Jim was at the GMA Worship Service with Michael W. Smith. I took a pic from way up in the balcony. (The green lettering was added later because the people are kinda hard to make out. The ID arrows were not there in the worship service.)

MONDAY
I had a full day of interviews. The best ones were with Seventh Day Slumber's bassist, Chris Tomlin, tobyMac, and rapper Pettidee. Pettidee wears grillz. I've never talked to a person with a grill. Or been hugged by one. So that made my day.

The worst part of the day was that I had interviews all scheduled back-to-back. And so I rushed around a lot. I was running late for Tomlin and was stuck on the 23rd floor of the main hotel for GMA. The elevators are infamously busy, slow and jammed at GMA, so I took the stairs. Later, I was in a hurry again and needed to go from floor one to the 19th floor. I thought, I did 23 floors by stairs earlier. Surely, I can do 19. Well, going up is different than down. I did my entire interview with Group 1 Crew sucking air. Listening to that tape has to be really funny.

The day highlight was my interview with the band Red Umbrella. We met at a hotel restaurant. I didn't want to take up the place's table without buying anything, so I ordered us a plate of nachos to share as we talked. This is what came:

I don't even know if the pic does it justice. It's HUGE. You can see that one member of the band is also taking a picture of it. In fact, as soon as it came, we all pulled out our cameras. The nachos were so good, you can see one band member giving it the thumbs up. See how small his hand is in comparison to the heap of goodness? Wow.

I miss those nachos.

My day of interviews ended with Connersvine, a worship group releasing an album in September. One member of the band is Hunter Smith, punter for the Colts. He wasn't there because he was visiting the White House with the team. But I told the other member, Chris, that I was very skeptical of the band because I am a Bears fan. He responded by saying that he's not a football fan at all so he's objective. In fact, he said that when he first started playing with Hunter in church, he didn't know what Hunter's day job was.

The only show I saw that night was The Afters. I tried to see an acoustic show by Switchfoot's Jon Foreman, but the line was BLOCKS long.

TUESDAY
At 8:00, I started my day with Flatfoot 56, the celtic punk band from Chicago I really dig. It was fun. They weren't too awake but I got in good with them because I'm a Sox fan. I also interviewed Michael W. Smith, Jars of Clay, Red and Adie.

The whole afternoon was taken by a Word Label meet and greet. For four hours I was at the Melting Pot fondue restaurant doing a kind-of speed dating set up. Every 10 minutes, the journalist would rotate to the next artist. The most fun I had was with Big Daddy Weave who goes down as the only artist at GMA to say the words "kick him in the nuts" and Stellar Kart who dared a 14-year-old member of another band to eat a potato straight out of the hot oil. It was hilarious.

Two of the bands were late because a hotel elevator got stuck. 16 people had crammed in it and it bottomed out on the first floor. They were in there for 30 minutes. "You could see the condensation and sweat running down the walls," one guy told me.

Right after the Fun-do, I went on a Provident Record Label boat cruise.

I was seated at a table right in front of the stage for the dinner and show. Every table has an artist at these media dinners. Our artist was the lead singer of Pillar. So that was cool. Four or five bands perfromed. The one I liked the most was Leeland. Because I was so close to the stage, I couldn't help taking a couple pics of Leeland. My appreciation for this young band really has taken off after intervieiwing them Tuesday morning and seeing them play live. It's good stuff.

My GMA was capped off by the Provident-Flicker rock show Tuesday night: Flatfoot 56, Red, Wavorly, Pillar and Nevertheless. Flatfoot was awesome but the crowd wouldn't get crazy enough for them. And I really think my Band To Watch this year is Wavorly. I'd heard their album before GMA, but seeing them live really impressed me. They do this dramatic hard rock that's just solid. It seemed like the crowd really dug them.

And so, that's my GMA 2007.

Quick Hello

2007-04-26T10:56:00.000-05:00

Just a quick update to say I am back from Nashville. Between catching up with work, formulating new LOST theories and trying to figure out why Ozzie let Brian "Worthless DH" Anderson bat in the 9th with 2 outs and bases loaded, I'm gonna hold off the big GMA recap until tomorrow.

I did have a cool wedding dream last night though. In it, we held the wedding rehearsal at my brother's farm. And we invited all 300 wedding guests to watch the rehearsal. (So then what makes it a rehearsal?) We had a big stage set up by the machine shed with cahirs all over the yard. There were also huge video screens to show close-ups of the action. The two big themes of the dream were 1) My old friend Jay Dickerson from high school just showed up and asked to be a groomsmen (and I let him) and 2) I was very excited that we had BBQ for the rehersal dinner.

As a tease for tomorrow I will say this: Biggest. Nacho. Plate. Ever.

GMA Mid-Action

2007-04-21T10:51:00.000-05:00

You may have seen a message up here saying that I was in Nashville for Gospel Music Week and that I would be back Thursday. Well, I am in Nashville but found a couple of minutes to give updates of GMA 2007.

Today I will be interviewing TobyMac, Chris Tomlin, Mandisa from American Idol and a few others. Tomorrow is another big day with interviews with about 10 artists including Flatfoot 56 (whoo!), Jars of Clay, and Michael W. Smith. And then, I go to a big fondue party where I will dip fruit into yummy chocolate with BarlowGirl, Plumb and others. Good times.

When I left for the week, I really didn't realize how cool of a week's lineup I have. I am getting to interview a lot of great folks. It's a lot of fun. I have the best job ever.

Last night, I interviewed some new artists and went to the annual GMA worship service. This year, Michael W. Smith hosted the service (with music by Hillsong). The highlight for me (besides some intense worship and prayer) was when Smitty brought actor Jim Caviezel out to give his testimony. It was weird to see Jesus in jeans.

I got the opportunity to go out to a steakhouse with KJ-52 for dinner. One of the best parts was when the waiter came by with the pepper shaker. "Pepper, sir?" he asked KJ.

KJ said yes.

And then, the waiter promptly walked away.

As soon as the yes came out of KJ's mouth, the man just wandered off. He couldn't have played it off funnier if he tried. I thought for a minute that KJ was being PUNK'd. He was like, "Ummmm..."

Another cool thing from yesterday: I wore my new Mr. Rogers shirt that my sister gave me for my birthday. Sis, everyone talked about it. I probably got 10 compliments. One woman said that she was just singing the "Won't You Be My Neighbor" song when I turned the corner. It freaked her out.

Okay, See ya Thursday.

RIP Porta-Blanket

2007-04-20T08:18:00.000-05:00

The Intended and I celebrated Valentine's Day last night. Well, at least we partook in what she got me for Valentine's: Two great lower-bowl tickets for the Sox-Rangers game. (And I made the painstaking choice to take her with my extra ticket.)

Fittingly, it was about the same temperature as if it were Feb 14.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. We each wore 5 layers of shirts and had our gloves on. And we utilized my Portable Blankey for the first time. It was really convenient to carry the rolled-up blanket in by it's handle--and when needed, unroll it and be warmed.

So we sat there eating good food, watching Javi lose his no-hitter in the 2nd (but still have a solid outing), and enjoying baseball live for the first time after a long winter absence. It was a great night. The Intended was especially happy to see her favorite player (AJ) blast a 3-run dinger.

At the end of the game, Bobby Jenks did what Bobby Jenks does. After the last out, The Intended and I celebrated the win and hustled out.

In the parking lot, she turned to me and said, "Do you have the blanket?"

D'oh.

I saw a flashback in my mind's eye of the sad little blue stadium blanket draped over a U.S. Cellular seat. Right where I left him in all the excitement of the final out.

And so, after his very first outing, I've lost the Porta-Blanket. He was good to me. We had some laughs. And some warmth. Hopefully, he will find a good home.

In his memory, I've considered sewing handles onto all my blankets. Nah, maybe not.

The Triumphant Return of QUOTES OF THE WEEK!

"I can't talk to anyone, I am watching baseball." -The adorable 5-year-old sitting in front of us at the game last night to his mom in the first inning.

"I liked the part with the bird. It was a bird right?" - Hurley on LOST about Jin's ghost story.

"Are you two arguing about who your favorite Other is?" - Sawyer on LOST to Jack and Juliette.

"We have to play ping pong every 108 minutes or the island will explode." - Sawyer on LOST

"I had high blood pressure this morning. I think it's this place. And a little bit you." -Camerin to me.

No, No, No

2007-04-19T08:01:00.000-05:00

Well, I guess I should call the White Sox morons more often.

This is one of the many reasons I love baseball. It's a game of hope, redemption and resurrection. It's a game where anything can happen and everything can change. In football, if your team loses you have to taste that loss for a week before even having the chance to rebound. In baseball, you just wake up the next morning with new hope. I was mad at my team after 3 pitiful losses in a row. We weren't playing good baseball. No fielding. No hitting. And now, I feel like it's October again. So much energy and excitement. So much to celebrate. That was one great game for the Sox and especially for Mr. Buehrle.

How much fun is this?

And now the sad truth: I follow a lot of White Sox games either on radio, TV, live or through the internet live feed. In 2002, I proudly watched or listened to EVERY game of the season (I really had no life then.) But of the few games I don't watch, last night was one. Yah, I didn't see it. Wednesday nights are a special routine for The Intended and I. She has me over, makes me dinner, we make S'mores, we watch Lost.

During the first commercial break, I turned over to the Sox to see how they were doing. The game had just ended. The first thing I see is Mark walking in the dugout with guys slapping him on the back. The crowd is going nuts. I said aloud, "Oh no. Oh no, no, no...." They show a replay of Konerko catching a ball and pumping his fist.

"Oh, My Intended," I said. "Buehrle just threw a no-hitter. Oh my goodness. And I didn't watch it."

At some point, the remote dropped from my hand. One of my favorite Sox players of all time just entered history and I missed it. While it's not the same, I am set to tape this afternoon's encore of the game on comcast. At least I will get to see how it all unfolded. I do remember following the last Sox no-hitter though. My Dad and I were fishing at the Bonfield quarry listening to the game on the radio as Wilson Alvarez pitched his in 1991.

So close yet so far away: The Intended and I missed seeing it live by one night. We are going to the game tonight. Maybe Javi can go back-to-back. You know, in the 2005 playoffs we had four consecutive complete games. Could four consecutive no-hitters be much harder?

Am I a Prophet? Last May, I wrote about a dream I had. I wrote: "I am at Wrigley Field for a Sox-Cubs game and Mark Buehrle pitches a perfect game."

Now, there are a few differences. One, it was a no-hitter, not a perfect game. But Mark was one walk away from the perfect game (even though he did indeed face the minimum amount of batters).

Two, the game wasn't against the Cubs. But the Rangers, like the Cubs, wear blue. And now they have Sammy Sosa. So, it's close.

I think maybe I am a minor prophet. Or like a Slightly Off Prophet. Pseudo-Prophet?

Blum Is Kinda Scary Now

2007-04-18T08:16:00.000-05:00

Okay, now it's just weird.

In the 2005 World Series, the usually worthless Geoff Blum slugged his way into White Sox lore with a 14th Inning homer that won game three.

Last year, he left the Sox to re-join the Padres. I wrote in April of last year how Blum is apparently "Mr. 14th Inning." There's something strange about him and that inning. After all, he hadn't gotten a hit after that game-winning homerun until the 14th game of last season...in the 14th inning. He hit a single and then scored the winning run.

Well, now it's just getting freaky. Once again, the man is a 14th Inning Hero with his double against the Cubs yesterday. Says Blum: "I was just waiting until the 14th inning to relax and get this thing over with."

Truth be told: I am writing about Geoff Blum today only because my own stupid team gives me nothing to write about. Morons.

And even pictures of my magical Podsednik action figure aren't going to help his right adductor. Dang it.

As Cute As His Uncle....

2007-04-17T08:25:00.000-05:00

And he eats like me too.

Yay, God!

2007-04-16T08:06:00.000-05:00

Our youth group led all three services at church this weekend. It went really well. Except for the part in the kid's time when I asked a little girl for an answer--and then realized she was probably too young to talk. And so, I just pretended like she said the right answer.

But besides my mucking it up, all was well. The kids did great sermonettes and we unleashed our youth band onto the congregation for the first time. It's really a great story. We won a drum set, bass guitar and speakers at a youth ministry conference two years ago. Since then, kids who never played bass or drums have taught themselves how. This weekend they rocked the sanctuary with Switchfoot and Blink 182 tunes.

Yah, Blink 182. I am fairly confident we were the only church in America that had Blink played in their worship time yesterday. I introduced the song for the services as the band got ready because I thought some people may see the name Blink 182 and be like, "Whaaa?"

I explained that I had actually questioned why our youth band would be playing a Blink song in church. I don't work closely with the band and so when I found out they been practicing a Blink 182 song, I told the band members I thought it was inappropriate. I figured they just wanted to play it because they like Blink and it sounds cool. But Steve, the singer, told me I needed to read the lyrics before I jumped to conclusions. He was right. No, it's not a song from a Christian band, but it reads as a desperate plea from someone who believes in God and his plan--but is lost and forlorn. It's almost like a psalm. With its honesty and searching, its vulnerability and longing, I realized that this song connected with the guys and did indeed have a spot in their worship. It reminded me that "all truth is God's truth."

Isn't it cool how God can work in you when you think he's just working through you?

After the first of the three youth-led services, one high schooler's dad told The Intended a story of when he first started to know me. I'd never heard this story before.

He said he was reminded of the story because of the final praise song we sang in the service. Apparently way back when I first started working with the youth, the congregation was singing this same song. As our older, calm congregation sweetly sang the song, they reached the line, "I'll shout it from the mountaintop." At that point, this father heard a loud yell from the balcony of , "YAY, GOD!"

That was me. And this father told us us that all of a sudden he 1) was happy there was some youthful excitement injected into our church and 2) afraid of who was influencing his children.

Flash forward to yesterday: During the last service, the kids thought it would be fun if we all yelled, "Yay God!" at that spot in the song--something we picked up at a youth rally. When the time came, I yelled. And maybe too loudly. The guy next to me said, "I couldn't hear myself yell over Todd." The youth in front of me said, "Todd was so loud that I got scared and forgot what to yell."

Milwaukee: A God Forsaken City?

2007-04-12T16:33:00.000-05:00

When Marc and I discovered on Monday that the Cleveland Indians would be playing their home opening series in Milwaukee's dome due to Ohio's snow storms, we got an idea.

Tickets were only $10. Neither of us have watched a game at Milwaukee's new(er) ballpark. We love baseball (even if it is the Angels and the Indians). And we'd get to brag to Cleveland fan Doug V that we saw his team in 2007 before he did.

How cool would it be to just spontaneously drive to Wisconsin to watch baseball? Like Marc said, it would be one of those things that we could say of later, "Remember the time we watched a Cleveland home game in Wisconsin?" How many people can say they saw two teams play a series ina totally unrelated city? That's pretty cool.

We discussed the plan Monday night at a very fun friend group dinner at P.F. Chang's to celebrate the birthdays of Marc, Sara and Charissa. The games were scheduled for Tuesday night, Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon. We decided Wednesday was best all around for our schedules.

This is where God intervened.

We were all set to go on Wednesday (I even had poster board for our funny signs: "Can I Run the Sausage Race?" and "Angels? Indians? We're here for cheap baseball.")

But we had to keep a careful eye on Milwaukee weather. They were under a winter storm warning. We still thought we'd go. They had 5.6 inches by 4 and more was just hitting. We were on the fence. The state roads commission was recommending people stay in their homes. We started thinking this might not work out so hot. All the roads we needed to take were apparently "snow covered and slippery."

And then, Marc and I surrendered the dream. We wouldn't get our "Remember When" moment.

I joked to Marc that God just didn't want us to go. But in seriousness, I've come to believe that God communicates his will through open or closed doors. If we look for his guidance, he shows us his path with easy roads or one of constant obstacles. If something feels like forcing a square peg in a round hole, God's trying to tell you something. If it just somehow clicks, he's showing you a way that he's blessing.

With how we kept finding bad news about Milwaukee weather, it'd didn't seem like the door was very open.

But then Marc had a new idea: The Thursday day game. Now we could say, "Remember the time we took vacation days just to drive to Wisconsin to see cheap baseball played by teams we don't care about?"

We took vacation days. We made our plans. And I arrived at Marc's house at 9 a.m. today. I walked in as he said, "God doesn't want us to go to Milwaukee." I feared it was more weather issues. Instead, he told me that the daycare had called. His son had a 102 temp. Someone had to go pick up and bring home the sick little guy.

That's when the dream died. Marc was a good dad. And I got to save a vacation day and attend a work lunch that I would have been ditching to go to the game.

Oh well. It just proves that God was keeping us from Milwaukee for some reason. With such a succession of clearly closed doors, I think it means that he really hates Wisconsin. Or the Cleveland Indians.

More About My Hair!

2007-04-11T08:00:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, my mom, grandma, sister and sister-in-law threw a lovely shower for My Intended. My dad arrived before it started to drop of his mom who lives in a nursing home. I went outside to help her get out of the car. As she struggled to stand, she look up at me, paused and said, "What have you done to your hair?"

Later, I was telling her a long story. When I finished, all she said was, "I really don't like your hair."

I assured her that this long, shaggy look won't be permanent.

In fact, I go through new hairstyles quite a bit. And there's one stage that some readers of PTOIT missed a few summers back. The FauxHawk stage:

I look pretty punk, huh?

Although I wanted to do because I thought it'd be fun and cool, I also used it to serve a purpose. Our junior High kids needed extra motivation to raise mission trip funds. So I told them I'd wear an almost-Mohawk (without the completely shaved sides) on the trip if they raised a certain amount. Of course, I wanted them to do it...and just used the bet as an excuse.

Two funny stories that came from that time:

1) One of the kids from another church at our work camp cut his hair into a Fauxhawk like mine on the trip. He was all proud and we took pictures together. But I know that somewhere, I really ticked off some mom who's kid came home with a horrible haircut.

2) I took my work team to Arby's on our last work day. There, two older women were really skittish around this weird guy with the red almost-Mohawk. They sat at their table and kept whispering and glaring. I felt bad. But then, one of them spilled her coke all over. I rushed over with napkins and helped them clean it up. You should have seen their reactions to the surprise that someone who looked so odd could be nice.

Weekend With The Boy

2007-04-10T07:48:00.000-05:00

One of my comedic shticks is taking posed, goofy photos. It's what I do--especially back in college with Jeff, Gene and Adam. We'd always pose for strange pics -- pretending to be doing silly thing or pantomiming a goofy action, whatever.

What you are about to see looks like one of those posed photos. It looks like one of my typical posed shots--pretending to be dropping my nephew. But it's not.

Here's what happened. I was home for Easter and got to spend some time with The Nephew. My sister decided to take a picture. I posed all smiley, but right as the picture took, The Nephew did one of his notorious back arches. Yeah, I almost dropped him. Here's the proof:

You can just imagine that I am saying, "Whoooooa!"

Thankfully, the little guy stopped lunging and arching and all was well. I didn't drop him all weekend.

But we did have some great adventures together, such as discovering a baby in the mirror, playing catch and learning how to throw a curve ball. I also got to rock him to sleep. This was actually the first time I have ever put a baby to sleep.

He was very fussy and upset. He was too tired and was fighting it. I took him to his room and we rocked. (In a chair. Not to Black Sabbath.) He screamed. We rocked. He screamed more. The Intended came in because she heard the ruckus and knows that The Nephew likes music. Singing soothes him. So she sang. At first, it didn't work. He got so worked up that he stopped breathing, shook and turned purple. But he started to calm and we both sang.

Here's the thing: I don't remember song lyrics well. I don't know many songs. So I ran out quick once I'd sung "Go Go Go White Sox" and the Star Wars theme. So The Intended started a rousing version of "Hush Little Baby." But again, we ran out of verses we knew. And so, I had to improvise and The Nephew fell asleep to me singing this:

"Hush Little Baby, don't say a word, daddy's gonna buy you a new bullpen, and if that bullpen can't throw, Daddy's gonna buy you a Magglio. And if that Magglio goes to Detroit, Daddy's gonna buy you an Android. And if that Android malfunctions..."

Luckily, he was asleep by that point. I'm not sure what rhymes with malfunctions.

Then again, not rhyming didn't stop me from trying "Detroit" and "Android"...

Oooooh...

2007-04-10T07:40:00.000-05:00

I'm not saying, but I'm just saying: .467 BA, .529 OBP, .733 Slg.

Yah, it's early, but ... photos of this action figure will continue to be posted.

Baseball is Back

2007-04-03T07:58:00.000-05:00

Despite what happened at U.S. Cellular yesterday, I am glad baseball is back.

It makes me happy to be able to turn on the TV at night and see a fast ball being thrown. It brings me joy to watch Sportscenter in the morning and see something other than basketball or hockey. Something I care about. Something I have a stake in. A sport where anything can happen--and over the next 161 games, it will. Heroes will be made. Some will fall. And underdogs will have their day.

The drama is unfolding again. The Royals are creaming Curt Schilling. A-Rod is making errors. Santana is Santana. It could be anyone's season.

I've been so excited for this baseball season that I bought myself two late birthday gifts that came in late last week.

The first is a flashback to my childhood. When I was in junior high and high school, I had two favorite teams: one in each league. The AL team was of course the White Sox. But I was also really in love with the St. Louis Cardinals. And it was for one reason really. His name is Ozzie Smith. He's probably still my favorite baseball player of all time. So, I was so excited when I discovered this amazing new McFarlane figure of him online. It's The Wizard of Oz doing one of his trademark backflips. I simply love it.

What's interesting is that I found the Ozzie figure because I went to the MacFarlane toys site to buy a figure of my current favorite player, Scott Podsednik. I also love this figure of Scotty sliding into second. He's now perpetually sliding in front of my computer monitor here at the office.

I have to admit that I got Scotty for two reasons: 1) Because it's cool. 2) To try and reverse the curse. We all know that I am a jersey curse. Thus, I am responsible for Pods' bad year in 2006. So I thought that if me buying a jersey of his caused him to tank, maybe a second purchase--of an action figure--would turn it around.

We have yet to see any hints if my purchase will indeed ring in a Pods Re-Awakening because Scotty didn't play yesterday. He sat in favor of Pablo Ozuna who has a good history against Indians pitcher C.C. Sabathia. So we can't tell yet if Pods will indeed return to glory thanks to my action figure purchase. It's something to watch.

Speaking of things to watch for, there were some good things to come out of yesterday's complete disaster at the hands of the Indians. Here's my Glass Half Full report:

#1: We don't have to worry about Conteras being overworked after yesterday.

#2: Darin Erstead and Paul Konerko are each on pace to hit 162 homeruns.

#3: Bobby Jenks is still Bobby Jenks.

#4: AJ is still funny: "I saw the Cubs lost, too, so I guess the baseball season is over. Get ready for Bears football."

#5: According to Sox broadcaster Darrin Jackson, everything is fine. Watching the replay of the game last night, I heard Darrin say, "Other than the huge lead Cleveland has, the Sox are looking good." Thanks, Darrin.

The World in My Head

2007-03-31T12:07:00.000-05:00

I've often wondered what a purely Todd World would look like. You know, the fantasy world that is in my head. My office gives us hint. As does PTOIT and my pre-cleaned condo. But last week, The Intended found perhaps the closest glimpse we will ever get to a world that is purely and wonderfully Todd.

At our new favorite Used Bookstore, she found a kids' book about a wacky kid named Todd who lives in a bizarre and fun world. Save for the startling absence of monkeys and robots, it's much like the world inside my head. It's called Welcome to Todd World.

Todd is the blue little guy above with spikey hair and mismatched shoes (both are attributes that he usually shares with me. However, my hair is not currently spikey. And I've never been blue. In color. )

There's no plot to the book (like my world) and it's full of colorful and bizarre friends (also like my life). There's "friendly aliens and plants [that] eat ice cream." Both also exist in my imaginary world--but in mine, the plants also eat raw meat--and communists.

Because it's a sticker book, I've added items here and there on some of the pages--like the pizza on a stick below. (Of course my Todd World would feature all food being eaten on a stick!)

And now, my favorite part of the book. Todd's fascination with underwear...

The pages' instructions tell you to put the stickers of underwear on Todd and his dogs' head. So I did.

In a surprisingly true way, the sweet but bizarre attitude of Todd World is much like my life. (Except I don't have a Giant Milkshaker to ride in.) And the most striking thing is perhaps that the book's closing page is a perfect epilogue for PTOIT readers:

Mouth Spacle and Other Life Moments

2007-03-30T12:46:00.000-05:00

I realized this morning that my blog entries lately haven't really been about what I'm up to or anything. I mean, sure, Red Fez Monkey's smoking habit is a big deal and all--but that's not all that's up with me. So here's some nuggets of Todd Life:

For lunch today I had a chicken breast. I ate it with a plastic fork.

When I had just one bite left, I noticed that one tong was broken off a about a third of the way up. The fork wasn't broken when I began to eat. I looked around the plate and on my desk. No broken prong anywhere. So apparently, I ate it.

___________

My right leg is really painful. I haven't done anything resembling working out in about 7 years, so I know it's not sore. But it feels just like how I recall both of my legs feeling during my early teen years when I was growing an inch a week (give or take). It's just a dull pain that emanates from the bone. I've had this issue on and off for weeks. I'd like to think I am in another growth spurt.

Then again, it's probably this whole turning 30 thing. I swear that my back has ached, my legs have hurt and my memory has diminished every day since Feb 7. The dementia sets in next Thursday I think.

___________

I had a short dentist appointment at noon today. By that, I mean the appointment was short. My dentist is normal height.

I had to stop in and get some whitening trays. The cool thing is that in addition to getting the little plastic sleeves that slide onto my teeth, the dentist gave me the actual cement molds of my mouth that she made in order to fabricate the trays.

So now, I have this perfect replica of my mouth. Man, I am giddy with possibilities of fun things I can do with this. Not everyone has a life sized-replica of their own mouth!

___________

I realize that I never talked about that dentist appointment where they made the molds. Basically, the dental hygienist fills a tray with this goop and then sticks your upper or lower row of teeth into it. As you sit there, it hardens. Then, she wiggles it off.

Well, we had problems getting mine to work. My wisdom teeth are very far back and so, time after time, my back teeth would be sticking out of the back of the mold. So in order to get a workable mold of ALL the top and bottom teeth, we actually did this routine 6 times.

Each time, she'd try a bigger tray full of this little pink cement-goop that she had to keep mixing up. Finally, she said, "Well, that was my biggest tray. I don't know what to do."

I suggested that we stick my jaw in a bucket. She said that wouldn't work.

On try 5, I said, "I feel really bad that I'm wasting all your mouth Spackle."

She didn't smile and just said, "It's not Spackle."

___________

I am still cleaning my condo every morning before coming to work in case someone may come view it for purchase. It's frustrating because it feels for naught. Not one person has viewed the house yet.

And you know, the one time I say "screw it" and don't pick up my underwear, someone will come for a showing.

The Slow Healing Process

2007-03-29T08:25:00.000-05:00

The road back to normal can be long and windy--full of bumps and detours. It's never as easy as we hope to climb back to how things used to be. That's the lesson all of us here in my office are learning. We all celebrated when Red Fez came home after his sudden departure. We welcomed him back with open arms. We were happy our prodigal monkey was back.

But it hasn't all been that easy. Red Fez has come back with some new ideas, painful experiences and bad habits to work through. For instance, one of the other fez monkeys (Blue? Yellow?) caught this on film this week:

While in New York, living the fancy high fashion life, Red Fez picked up a smoking habit. And while there's little funnier than a smoking monkey, I'm trying not to encourage it. There are worse vices than somking for a monkey, but I guess things were at a dangerous level. Frankly, Red Fez just couldn't quite get the hang of the whole process of lighting the cigarette.

Here's the picture that most frightened all of us:

Poor guy's gonna lose his eyebrows.

The other Fez Monkeys have staged an intervention and I think we're all making progress on this slow road to recovery.

I Love My Job

2007-03-27T17:31:00.000-05:00

Last week, our magazine had a staff retreat to choose articles we will use next year. My boss Chris always brings toys and candy for us during this day-long meeting. Tough job I have, I know. Well, he bought these new Tic-Tacs called "Tic-Tac BOLD! Fruit."

I like Tic-Tacs, so I tried one. I wasn't very happy about it.

There's several waves of taste in this Tic-Tac:

Wave 1: "Oh, Tic Tac flavor."

Wave 2: "Fruity. Kinda Fruit Punch."

Wave 3: "Here comes the BOLD! Sour."

Wave 4: "Rotten bold fruit."

Wave 4: "Butt."

Seriously, the final wave and resulting aftertaste were horrible. Nasty. It's biting and pungent.

And so yesterday, I walk into Chris' office and he's eating some Tic-Tac BOLD! He offers me some.

"No thanks," I said. "I thought they were kinda gross."

Chris eats another. And then replies, "Yah, they are horrible."

Me: "But why do you keep eating them?"

Chris: "I don't know."

Me: "If you don't like them..."

Chris: "You know what they taste like? Kitty Litter."

Me: "I've never eaten Kitty Litter."

Chris: "They taste like how Kitty Litter smells."

Me: "Huh."

Chris: "Try it."

I did. And the man is right. The 5th Wave is exactly the flavor of Kitty Litter Smell.

Chris: "It's fascinating. I keep eating them because I think that the next one will taste better. But they never do."

______________

Oddly, this wasn't the strangest interaction that occurred on our staff yesterday.

Designer Doug stopped by my office. As he was talking, he winced. And placed his hand on his stomach. I asked him if he was OK. He said he was but was feeling "Irritable."

And then, about 1.5 seconds later, I had a sharp pain in the side of my stomach. I winced and placed my hand on my stomach.

Doug said, "Are you OK? It's contagious!"

I think it may have been sympathy pains.

Turkey Watch

2007-03-26T18:20:00.000-05:00

This was a good weekend. I got to relax, I got to eat Salt Creek BBQ, The Intended had her first Wedding Shower (one down, 14 to go), I got to see my mom and grandma, and I fit in some bowling with the youth group.

Here's my favorite story of the weekend:

I was driving from the bowling alley to the church with one youth group kid, Colin. We were following another leader, my friend Laura (hi, Laura!). On a small residential street, she slowed down and stuck her head out the window and pointed off to the left. I didn't see anything. A little bit later, she did the same again--and seemed to be yelling at two older people standing on the sidewalk.

If she was trying to tell me something, I wasn't getting it. So I called her. She said, "Didn't you see the wild turkey walking down the street?"

I admitted I did not. Colin didn't either. We are boys and not very observant. But a wild turkey in dowtown Hinsdale would be an odd sight. (And I'm betting that if he's in Hinsdale, even that turkey makes more money than I do.)

Anyway, Laura continued: "And then those two people seemed like they were looking for something so I yelled to them, 'Are you looking for the turkey? It's down that way!'

We're not exactly sure the couple had indeed seen the turkey, but in a way I hope they hadn't--just because I think it'd be funny if they were just on a walk when someone in a car started yelling at them about a turkey.

The PTOIT Poster Awards Continued!

2007-03-22T17:07:00.000-05:00

Funniest Random Comment
"Oh, I like the Belgians! They make good Waffles!" by The Intended (then known as The LadyFriend.)

The Charles Barkley Award
The Winner is The Gat for this gem: "We used to tackle people in mascot costumes in malls. we found out that most people who put on those costumes are college kids or old retired guys. I am not a role model."

The Most Literal Commenter Award
When I wrote, "While I'm wearing my Reviewing Shoes, I thought I'd point out a few things," DoubleM responded with, "You have a pair of shoes you wear just when going to review a movie? Man, you journalists are weird."

Best Logic Award
When I discussed some people's problem with keeping cookies in a drawer next to office supplies, The Gat made this astute call: "By LT's reasoning, shouldn't the cookie inherit the flavor of the material it is wrapped in? So, what about tin foil? Or plastic wrap? The only way to get around this is to wrap the cookies in... cookies. You should line the inside of the Cookie Drawer with cookies. I am wrapping things in bacon as we speak. Mmmm."

Best Use of Bacon in a Comment
See above.

Most Inappropriate Comment Award...
Goes to the Derfman. You know why.

Best Witty Retort to Another Commenter Award
This was easily won by the Dreamer who saw one of the Derfman's inappropriate comments about my sister and reponded with, "I'm thinking 'the derfman watch' has taken on a whole new meaning."

Best Witty Retort to The Todd Award
Sweeping the "Best Witty Retort" category is The Dreamer. When I discussed the difficulties of drafting fantasy football players, The Dreamer repeated my line of "If there's studs on the table I am going to go with them" and added dryly, "Me too, Todd. Me too."

The "Doug No Talking" Award
This award can only be given to one man. And he earned it. When I innocently asked what I should do with my giant R2 pepsi cooler after I'm married, Doug suggested this: "Only because everybody is expecting me to say it . . . . Todd you could "pop" out of R2 on your first night together."

The Most Sweet and Innocent Award
In stark contrast, Lil Sis responded to a blog about Missy Elliot by saying, "Hmm, this is a lot of booty talk for my lil' ears."

The Most Serious-Sounding Argument About Why Monkeys Are Neat
When I proposed that monkeys were cool because they wear people clothes, fight stuff and hit things with sticks, The Intended made an argument to the contrary. "I'd argue monkeys are at their BEST when they show their humane sides...research has proven that time and time again! Look at Jane Goodall, Koko the Gorilla, etc. Entertaining as they can be when they fight dinosaurs they are BEST when they are tender and nuturing and remind us of our more humane, loving instincts...not our savage ones!"

The Social Watchdog Award
HopefulSW did a great community service by warning us all of a dangerous conspiracy: "McDonalds has always been into kid trickery. The majority of people I know are afraid of clowns. I think Ronald McDonald was a massive campaign to trick people into liking a clown."

And now...

My Favorite Comment Post of the Year
Coming from Chadaddy, this comment post about marriage still makes me laugh aloud every time I read it. Enjoy:

"Here is a little 'What I learned in the first year of marriage' advice from someone who had to learn the hard way:

1) Never forget your first anniversary.
2) Flowers are still required even after you are married.
3) Never ask her on January 13th, when her birthday is because you think it is coming up (oh, yeah it was the 12th of January).
4) It is not called "Baby Sitting" when it is your child.
5) Never say "Just pick out your own present for your birthday dear," it will cost you much more.

Wow... Reading thru this list I am amazed I am still married. Honey if you are reading this, I love you."

And with that, here's to another year of fun reader interaction!

The PTOIT Poster Awards!

2007-03-22T08:22:00.000-05:00

Well, today actually marks one year since I started Putting the Odd in Todd (or PTOIT). We've seen a lot happen in a year. I conquered an addiction to Chai Tea, my Red Fez Monkey disappeared and then returned, I got engaged and I've killed off about 4 regular features like Fun with Google.

To celebrate, I thought I'd post some of my favorite entries from the comment boards. Not everyone looks at them, and there's been some fun stuff. So, I give out the First Annual PTOIT POSTER AWARDS.

The Champion of the Free Press Award
In reaction to my UPS blog, DoubleM wrote, "Look at that - you can't even last 2 weeks and you're already trying to sell out. Long live the independent press...er blogs!"

The Glass-Is-Half-Full Award
In reaction to my entry about holing up in the nearby IKEA after the eventual apocalypse, The Gat wrote, "That IKEA is only 30 min away. sweet. you could come sleep over."

The Realism Award
In reaction to the IKEA blog, "Steve" wrote, "The key to survive a post-Apocalyptic future is to have 'real' skills like farming or carpentry. Wordsmiths, lawyers, economists, directors of research at executive recruiting firms, and radio news broadcasters need not apply.The other useful thing to have is a gun, not a spoon."

The Glass-Is-Half-Full Award II
When I worried that robots would soon take over, The Derfman wrote, "I, for one, welcome our new Robot overlords. Did I say 'overlords'? I meant 'protectors.'"

The Mr. Rogers Award
This one goes to "Steve" for helping us realize an important life lesson. "Moral to the missing monkey story: Cherish every moment you have with your monkey. You never know when it will be gone."

The Full Disclosure Award
When I wrote about my history of illness, RJCraig stole this award with a brilliant entry:

"Having once employed the author of this blog, I can confirm that the man's hypochondria is long-standing. The following is a list of ailments he complained about in 1999.
* Nausea and dizziness (3/7 approx 2:30)
* Hurt toe - Run over by chair, weird bump (3/23 2:49 p.m.)
*Headache, ankles ache (3/27 1:51 p.m.)
* “My eyeballs itch.”...later spreads to entire body (3/29 3:05 p.m.)
* Suddenly lost hearing in right ear (4/5 11:46 a.m.)
* Nose bleed (4/7 2:10 p.m.)
* A general malaise, “mushy” head (4/10)
* Face feels red, warm (5/16 3:54 p.m.)
* Chest pains...but only in heart (5/30 12:41 p.m.)
* Intense ringing in ears...deafness except for buzzing (6/27 10:30 a.m.)
* Right eye socket hurts upon blinking: “...a shooting kind of numb pain.”
* Sudden, crippling pain in kneecap (8/9 afternoon)
* Same as 5/30 but on other side (9/7 10:49 a.m.)
* Seems like left temple is generating “a lot of heat.” (11/1 11:10 a.m.)
* A sharp poking right in the kneecap. (11/14 4 p.m.)
* Bad shock and pain in one tooth from a piece of cheese (11/29 11:49 a.m.) The cheese “chilled my tooth to a painful point...To the point where there was a shock.” Cheese may have created "electricity."
* Throbbing pain in kneecap (12/4 2 p.m.)
* Hip just went out (3/8 2:35 p.m.)
* Legs very weak; gets exhausted just thinking about standing (4/20 10:02 a.m.)

You know, I am enjoying these awards so much that I will continue them tomorrow...when I will award several more including My Favorite Comment Post of the Year.

Fear Not! The Juice is Back!

2007-03-21T13:53:00.000-05:00

I know there was a lot of panic, tears and protest recently when I warned that Aldi may have stopped carrying THE BEST JUICE IN THE WORLD. But I am happy to announce that it was a false alarm. I went back last night, and the juice was back. Apparently, they were just sold out that night. Whew.

To avoid any crisis like that happening again, I stocked up. I bought 9 tubes of the concentrated delight.

On the way home, I realized that people may soon be visiting my home to purchase it. I think it will be funny when they find 4 Tupperware jugs of cereal in one cabinet, 3 giant 32 oz bags of unopened cereal in another cabinet and then 9 cans of the same juice in the freezer. With all that horded cereal and juice, they will assume an Obsessive Compulsive lives there.

Or a third grader.

Of Smoking Clowns and Green Beverages

2007-03-19T08:50:00.000-05:00

I was driving on Route 20 Saturday afternoon behind a black pickup truck. All over the truck were advertisements for a special events company: "Clowns! Animals! Table Magic! Balloon Tricks!" As I drove behind him, I wondered if maybe there would indeed be a clown driving. So, I passed him to see.

Sure enough, there was a clown driving--with full make-up, the big red nose and a ball cap on instead of his wig. I chuckled.

And then the best part--I noticed he was smoking. There's just something funny about a clown who smokes. It was like seeing a real-life Krusty the Clown going to work.

________________________

I finally had that Shamrock Shake on Saturday. Oh, sweet joy. One of my youth group kids competes with a friend every year to see who can drink more. Last year, I kept pace with him. This year, I didn't even try because I want to keep my girlish figure. Turns out he had 13 in 10 days before giving up because the other kid was so far ahead.

While the Shamrock was wonderful, I noted as I drank it that it really just made me crave an Arctic Orange Shake.
_________________________

I'm not a big beer drinker. But My Intended and I went to see my high school friend Eric play at a bar on Saturday and got a pitcher of Miller Lite. It was colored bright green. The funny thing? I swear it tasted better green.

_________________________

Speaking of all these things I drank this weekend, I also bought a new combined fruit juice at Aldi to make up for the lack of The Best Juice in the World. This one was White Grape and Peach. As I drank it for the first time Saturday, I literally did a double-take because I thought I was drinking wine. It tastes just like a sweet, white wine.

It's good. But with cereal in the morning, it's a little weird.

_________________________

At youth group, we played Broomball for the first time in over a year.

The game (think floor hockey with a kickball and brooms) used to be a staple of our group. We played all the time. The kids even had their own custom brooms. But when the church renovated, we lost our good Broomball room. We gained a big new basement that the pastor told us we good play in, but there have been problems with it. First of all, it is way to0 big. So when you mark out boundaries, you end up chasing the ball way too much when it goes out of bounds. Secondly, the one time we tried to play down there, we kicked up so much dust that one kid left with an asthma attack. Thirdly, once the room got cleaned up, it kept being used for weddings and resales. So we had nowhere to go.

Last night, a few of us discovered that the new basement is now largely empty and unused again. There were also about 20 lightweight folding tables just sitting there from the resale. So, we used them to build a nice Broomball rink. The tables were used as the sides of the playing field all the way around. It was awesome.

We really had fun and bonded over our blood, sweat and tears. It was pretty hardcore and aggressive. Many of us left with several bruises. By the end, I was so exhausted, I could barely swing my broom.

Dream Log:
(March 18, 2007)
I was in a Jeep with Designer Doug. He was in the passenger seat. I was in the backseat. I think we were waiting for the driver because we were sitting in the parking lot of a bank. As we sit, we see another Jeep pull in. There's is red. 5 big, burly guys get out. They talk and then four go into the bank.

The fifth, a weaselly, Gary Sinese-looking guy, gets back into the Jeep, pulls out of his parking space near ours and moves to the far side of the parking lot from the bank doors. He gets out again, opens the back hatch and starts to arrange a bunch of blankets and plastic tubs. I watch him and see he has a gun tucked into his pants and a large knife hanging from his leg. I tell Doug that I think something's up.

We look into the glass doors of the bank and can't really tell if anything's going on. It seems calm. There's still a security cop standing his post.

Then the dream turns into a movie or show I am watching. Specifically, it's LOST. Inside the bank, the four burly guys go upstairs to a big exquisite lobby. As they walk in, Sawyer jumps them. They easily over power him. They beat him to the ground and tell him to stay. The guys search the lobby and finally find Kate in a corner. She says that she won't tell them where Jack is and that their plan to rob the bank won't work.

A lot of other stuff happens, but the rest is a blur.

Where Are You, Juice? Where Are You?

2007-03-16T08:43:00.000-05:00

I am not prone to easily panic, but I want to let everyone know that there's a troubling situation brewing that could build into an outright catastrophe.

Aldi may be no longer carrying THE BEST JUICE IN THE WORLD.

A couple years ago, I discovered a frozen concentrate juice at Aldi called "Pineapple-Orange-Apple." I gave it a try because I like juice. In fact, I love juice. And to me, the best juices are those that combine fruits. I mean, God gave every fruit it's own juice and they are lovely in their own gifts. I love apple juice. And grape juice. But when fruit juices truly shine--like the body of the church--is when they combine their gifts. When cranberry or apple or lime or orange lend their talents to other fruits, that's when we see special, magical things happen in juice.

And the culmination of this was Aldi's Pineapple-Orange-Juice. It was less of a juice and more of a taste explosion. An event.

And last night, Aldi didn't have any of it. Totally gone. Now, I do maintain hope that they were just sold out. Could be. But Aldi does have a habit of cycling product in and out. It could be gone forever. We can only hope
that THE BEST JUICE IN THE WORLD is still out there.

If not, my mouth will be in mourning for a long, long time.

Hair Crisis Avoided

2007-03-15T11:13:00.000-05:00

I have to say it: I like my hair today. I liked it yesterday too. The new style has taken some time for me to get used to, but it's going well now.

And that says a lot given the despair of Hair Crisis 2007. How'd I go from those dark days to now being happy with longer hair?

It all started with young Becca. She's a student at the local Tricoci University. I went there (as part of the disaster reaction plan) to get my first styling ever. I normally clip it myself or go to a barber. But I tried Tricoci U (Are they in the Final Four? What's their mascot?) because I figgered I wanted someone young and hip to do something new--and not the old man barber who charged me $13 two years ago to box my ears and taper the back of my hairline.

Tricoci U was hip. In fact, I'm not cool enough to be there really. All the workers wore black, with New York hair and most of the girls looked like they hang around with Paris Hilton. Or like they were in that Devil Wears Prada movie.

But I liked the way Becca cut my hairs, gave me layers and shaped it all a bit. All for just $8. A few things that were interesting:

1) I've never had a woman shampoo my hair before (or a man actually) since my mom probably did when I was but a todd-ler. That was kinda weird. I'm not creeped out easily by touch or anything (though the thought of anyone but The Intended giving me a back massage really freaks me out) but it was odd having this young girl lathering up my scalp. And yet, oddly calming.

2) During the cut, Becca parted my hair down the middle. She joked that she didn't understand why guys would do that and how silly it looked. When she was done cutting my hair, she styled it with the part down the middle. Wha? That didn't stay long.

3) In styling my hair, Becca used this stuff called Fiber. The application of it required her to -- literally -- clap her hands above my head and let these little strings of goop flutter onto my head. When I told Camerin about it, she said that it may have been some strange marriage ceremony or witchcraft.

So anyway, my hair is now different than I've ever done it. It's just all messy and down over my forehead. I like it. I won't keep this style for too long. But for now, it's cool.

And the best part is that I get no rashes from the hair product I'm using. Whew.

Kiss My Blarney Stone

2007-03-13T09:10:00.000-05:00

For weeks I've heard radio commercials declaring, "Shamrock Shakes are back!" And so the familiar urges returned from my past addiction to Shamrock Shakes. I kept waiting until the perfect time to have my first one of the season....

And I decided Sunday afternoon was the time. It was warm out. I was going to youth group. It was time to Shamrock.

So, I stopped at this real fancy-dancy McDonald's near my church. And when I say "fancy-dancy," I ain't kidding. It's Hinsdale after all. This place has nice woodwork, paintings and looks like an old two-story brick house from the outside.

But you know what happened?

They had NO SHAMROCK SHAKES! How can this be? They have 7-foot murals of countrysides but not a cup of green shakiness? This McDonald's has it's priorities all mixed up.

When I asked for one, the kid said, "We don't have those." I said, "You don't have Shamrock Shakes?" He answered, "No. We don't have the mix yet."

"But St. Patrick's Day is next week."

"I know. But we don't carry it."

I was dismayed. And shakeless.

De-Toddified!

2007-03-12T07:50:00.000-05:00

Well, the De-Toddifying of my home is over. After a few weeks of packing, moving, sanding, painting and cleaning, the condo is now ready to go on the market this week. It feels very bright, very big and ... well, not me. But that's the point. Thanks to everyone who helped with all the painting and cleaning.

Now, I want to share the results of the De-Toddification process:

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE
AFTER

BEFORE

What this "Before" photo of the bathroom fails to show is that I had a big purple stripe running at the top of each wall--like on the top of a monopoly card. But, no more...

AFTER

BEFORE

AFTER
Another Bedroom View

BEFORE

AFTER

Unfortunately, I don't have "Before" photos for two rooms. And the first is the room that's seen the most dramatic change. If you've been to my house, you may remember the dining room with it's dark, dark blue walls. Well, no more...

My kitchen's defining characteristics were old metal advertising signs all over the walls. But now...

So, that's it.

Now, I just have to keep it clean and hope for buyers. Please pray that this thing sells in God's time--whatever that may be. I'd really like it to sell before June to not have two mortgages. But if it sells too soon, I may live in my truck. So, I need to just trust God that he'll time it right and use whatever happens.

Let Them Eat Cake! (And I'll have my cookie.)

2007-03-07T10:25:00.000-06:00

WEDDING WEDNESDAY
After months of discussion, negotiations with bakeries and assorted trials, it looks like we will be having a cookie cake after all--in addition to a regular cake.

It didn't look good there for awhile because apparently my vision for a wedding cookie--looking like a wedding cake with layers of big cookies separated by cake pillars--is impossible. So, we decided to change our plan and have an actual, traditional wedding cake. That's great, but I still wanted cookies. I was intent on finding a way.

And it looks like it may just happen! A friend has discovered a neat free standing cake stand in storage at her family's bakery that will support three teirs of big cookie. Whoo! So, everyone at the reception can have their cake and eat it too... while I partake in my cookie.

In other reception news...

I'm not saying, I am just saying.

UPDATE: Marc dreamt of my wedding last night. And it's weird. Check it out here.

The Return of the Prodigal Monkey

2007-03-05T17:04:00.000-06:00

Late last night, a ship sailing the oceans for the last several months arrived again in my office. And on that tiny wooden replica of the Santa Maria sat my own prodigal son, The Red Fez Monkey.

He has returned. Fill the streets with songs of joy.

There is much rejoicing here in the office. There's been so much excitement that I haven't quite gotten all the details yet. But let me fill you in with what I know.

As we last heard, Purple Fez monkey was in New York searching for his missing brother, who'd apparently left my office with no notice in order to become a model. Purple Fez never wrote to me after his first day in New York so I had no idea what had happened. But after about a week there, he met a fashion cross-stitcher who'd used Red Fez as a model. When asked about Red Fez's whereabouts, this man told Purple Fez, "He was not made for the concrete jungle. And so, he returned to his native land, The Fez Jungle, to be with all the other Fez Monkeys."

With the first great lead of his epic search, Purple Fez set sail for the Fez Jungle of South America.

One dark night, Purple Fez was tired of searching and set up camp. As he was searching for food, he heard a noise. A twig snapped. Thick jungle growth shook with movement. A predator was on the hunt. He did whatever monkeys do when threatened; I'm not sure what that is. It may have involved throwing feces. Anyway, out of the thick vegetation walked...RED FEZ MONKEY!

The brothers embraced. After such a long search, Purple Fez was triumphant--he'd found his brother.

"Why didn't you come home after you left New York and modeling behind you?" Purple Fez asked.

"Because I was afraid I'd brought shame on you in not having what it took to be a model," Red Fez admitted. "With the way I left, I didn't feel like I could just come back."

"But of course you can!" Exclaimed Purple Fez. "We are family. You should have never felt ashamed of your desire to be a model--or that you had to keep that ambition secret. You should have never felt ashamed to admit your failure. We've missed you and searched for you! You are always a part of Todd's office decor!"

They embraced more. They picked bugs from each other's back. But then, strange sounds came again from the trees. Purple Fez braced for an attack from an unseen jungle attacker.

"Don't be afraid," said Red Fez. "They are with me."

With that, three Fez Monkeys swung from vines and joined the reunited brothers.

"They have no real home or family," Red Fez said. "They are Fez Monkeys with no office to decorate. Perhaps they can come live with us."

And so, a ship full of 5 Fez Monkeys arrived to my office this morning. Indeed, I may have lost one for a brief time. But I now have gained 3 new Fez Monkeys.

And my dear sweet Red Fez is back!

Putting the Odd In Todd

New York in Quotes

All I Got Is Quotes

Random Pictures

That's Not Toothpaste

Behold the Power of the Bobble

"I'm Todd. I'll Be The Class Numbskull."

Back In the Cubicle

Those Who Seek

"My Name is Todd. I like to do Drawrings"

Sox Surprise!

Come Back to This Whenever Grumpy

In Dedication to the Birthday Girl

Movie Geek Freakout

The Haircut Extravaganza

Welcome Home, Drew

I'm not Patricia Arquette

A Tale of Two Sox

Crisis!

Did We Find my Voice Twin?

iPod? iPod? Who's got the iPod?

Todd and the Mystery of the Tall Tower

Quote of the Year?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no....

Uneasy On the Office Front

Broken Truce!

Meet Hector

Updates

The Need for Good Rehearsal

Don't Overcook Your Pancakes!

More Travel Stories!

The Legend of Dancing Susie

Goo(ch)dbye, Tadahito

Smokin' Fiddle Thoughts

Top Ten Cool Things of the Trip

D'oh!

The Return of Wedding Wednesday! Yah!

The Big Question

Thoughts On Going Away...And Going

A Tale of Traveling to Two Countries

Avec la Mouton

Wedding Snapshots

Do You Have My Wallet?

Hats Off (or On) to the Groomsmen

The Sound of Marriage

Back and Better Than Ever

The Final Wedding Wednesday

Uncle Moment of the Week!

Really, Officer, It's Rotten Grapes!

Cleaning Up

The Bachelor Party

Change is Strange -- But I Got My Black T-Shirt

Don't Mind the Photographer

Thanks, Sweet Lou!

Happy Wedding 1st!

Crazy Train

I Conquered the Cereal

Weekend in Iowa

My Feet Hate Shoes

Two Big Life Events-One Month Apart

CAN you believe Marc is leaving?

The Ultimate Ultimate

Night of Rawk!

The Final Hair Post

So Many Options!

Boys Don't Get Hugging

Dreams and Blessings

Hair Yesterday, Gone Today

Full Circle

This I What I Do At Work.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Wedding Wednesday on Tuesday

No Storm Warning

The GMA Recap

Quick Hello

GMA Mid-Action

RIP Porta-Blanket

No, No, No

Blum Is Kinda Scary Now

As Cute As His Uncle....