Blogging and Blago

I have returned to writing on the web. I hope you haven't forgotten me. I've been anxious to come back to blogoworld (not to be confused with Blago, Illinois's corrupt former governor). Speaking of Blago...I've decided that you can tell a lot about a politician by their hair. If there is a question about the legitimacy of one's hair, there should be a question about the legitimacy of their actions. And have you every trusted a politician who slicks their hair back with a half gallon of Dep hair gel? Slimy hair, slimy person.

Ok, so it's obviously easy for me to get back to my random rambling. Wow. This feels good.

What jump started my need to blog again is my fascination with Mickey Rourke. His performance in the movie "The Wrestler" has been all over the media lately. When I first heard about a movie about pro wrestling, I automatically assumed it was some sort of spoof like "Not Another Teen Movie." Then when Mickey Rourke won a Golden Globe (thanking his dogs) I didn't know what was going on.

Have I seen him act? No. I am completely judging him by the way he looks and acts during public appearances. What bothers me most about him is his look. He has been nipped and tucked way too much. His pouty lips? Sick. And he has so much goop in his long straggly hair, he makes Bret Michaels' hair extensions look sexy. I just don't get it. And he's nominated for an Oscar? Yes, I may be too quick to judge his acting abilities, but I'm telling you...the bad hair...it makes me very skeptical.

Tired and Tortured

My nightmares are back.

With my wedding only 8 days away, sleeping is a challenge. Exhausted I fall into bed, but once my eyes are closed my mind races. Once I am no longer tortured by restlessness and my mind and body doze off, I am often soon awoken by nightmares. I haven't had any like this since I was ready Harry Potter before bed every night and Voldemort would come out of my closet with a dagger headed straight for me in bed. I usually remember my dreams, but these nightmares are different. They are in realtime and I don't remember anything until I'm between that stage of sleep and awake and I am imagining someone in my room and I am sitting up to make a run for it and then I startle awake. It seems so real! Then I feel stupid for actually thinking it was really happening. It's kind of funny. Until I can't get back to sleep. I think part of the problem might be because my nightlight is burned out and it is way too dark. Maybe they make a Harry Potter nightlight that would ward off Voldemort and my nightmares.

Road Report #5: Furry Friend of Foe?

While driving for endless hours on the open road with nothing but my iPod and my thoughts to entertain me, you'd be amazed at the things I ponder. One of them most recently: rodents. A rodent is defined as a relatively small gnawing mammal that has in both jaws a single pair of incisors with a chisel-shaped edge. That would encompass mice, squirrels, rats, chipmunks, hamster, and yes, beavers.

What spurred the rodent contemplation was my encounter with squirrels found in Western Michigan. Typical (or at least where I live) squirrels have different shades of brown fur like the one below.


However in Western Michigan they are black/dark brown. At first sight, it is very startling. I think they look like devil squirrels.


I don't mind squirrels. They are cute enough with their fluffy tails and I always do my best to avoid hitting them with my car. But I cannot say I love all members of the rodent family.

I have an incredible fondness for chipmunks. I don't know if it's the way they gnaw on acorns or how their little tail goes up when the scurry across the ground, but I want to keep one in my pocket and feed it little treats. Maybe it could sit on my shoulder. My love of chipmunks is curious because I am deathly afraid of its cousin the mouse. I ask myself, do I like chipmunks because of the cuddly characters Chip and Dale?
However, there are plenty of mice depicted in cartoons and Mickey Mouse has not helped me cope with my fear in any way. I try to tell myself that it is foolish to be scared of such a small helpless creature. And then I imagine one crawling up my pant leg or getting stuck in my hair and all rationalization is thrown out the window. Sick. I think it's their little finger-like claws/paws and the scratching noise they make. Gross. Do I like the popular hamster? No! They are mice disquised with jew-fros. Disgusting. What about rats? While I prefer to avoid them at all cost, they are not as scary to me because of their size. I feel like I could kick a rat like a football if I needed to. But tiny little mice are much harder to catch. What about beavers? Best rodent around. They are smart enough to build dams, have that big whopping tail, and the likelihood of encountering on EVER is very low.

Luckily for you and me, I will soon return home with less time to ponder rodentia.

Road Report #4: Dr. McSwimmy

How would you like this guy operating on you?

Road Report #3: Shawn-John Wannabe

So the majority of my days on campus are spent doing 10 minute presentations about the program in a variety of classes. Sometimes I'll do it as many as 15 times a day. It gets a little repetitive and I'm always looking for ways to spice it up.

My new thing this year is to close with the top 3 things about the program. I say,
"Just like David Letterman has his Top Ten list, I have a Top Three list. Mine isn't as long or as funny, but it's very informative." It cracks them up every time! And I still get a chuckle out of it too.

Some presentations are really lame because the students don't laugh at my jokes, but other times the room is on fire! After good presentations, I always have a skip in my step afterwards. And now I have a new move inspired our favorite gold medalist from Iowa, Shawn Johnson. I prance around like Shawn after she leaves the mat. Remember how she moves her arms in front of her as she walks? It's kind of an arm dance. I look awesome when I do it. And sometimes I'll do this move at the end in front the students. It gets a standing ovation every time.

Road Report #2: My Buddy and Me

When I'm on the road my constant companion is my hotel television. One of my recent hotels where I spent seven long nights had an extremely limited channel selection. My two favorite channels--MTV and BRAVO--of course were not available. My other standby is TBS. Great for some laughs at The Office or Sex and the City. The picture is available, but the audio is really loud static. I think it's worse then not having it all because I can see what I'm missing. There are five channels in different languages and three freaking ESPNs. None of the big networks have started up their shows again, so the pickings are very slim. I repeat VERY slim. I thought I'd highlight some of the programs I am occupying my time with:

--Wifeswap: The drag-racing, messy, hick mom and the neat freak, image-obssessed mom ended up learning a lot from each other. It was heartwarming. No it wasn't. It was weird and awkward and I felt pathetic watching it.
--Dog the Bounty Hunter: Why is he dressed like that? And how are his wife's boobs so insanely large?--Mystery Diagnosis: As if I wasn't already paranoid about the health of my unborn children. Now I have to worry about melancholeractictheria too.
--Man vs. Wild: It was like a car wreck. I could not look away, but was so disturbed at the same time. Bear Grylls threw himself into some sort of mossy quicksand, but luckily he had a large dead sheep lying next to him. As his body was being engulfed by the moss, he proceeded to use the sheep as sort of a life preserver, throwing himself on top of it and wraggling his way out. It was disgusting.

I've moved on to a new hotel with a much more acceptable array of channels. Next week is a big with the premiers of Dancing with the Stars (who isn't excited to see Kim Kardashian's booty shakin' to the mambo?) and The Office. Things are looking up.

Road Report #1: Trouble Before the Tires Even Hit the Pavement

Twice a year I go on a recruiting trip for work. It's starting to become routine with few problems. I'm sorry to say this trip has already taken a turn as scary as Harry Potter heading into the Forbidden Forest.

An hour before my intended departure to Michigan for two weeks part of my front tooth fell off. Yes, I said fell off. One might say chip, but the piece missing from my front tooth was much larger than one often refers to as a chip. A chip is chipper. This was a chunk. A funky chunk.

To those of you who do not know, one fateful day in fourth grade I challenged a friend to a bicycle race up the street. Not only did I lose the race when I skidded into a patch of sand and slammed into the pavement, but I also lost the bottom half of one of my front teeth thanks to the handlebar. I can still remember the traumatic moment when I first saw myself with a broken tooth smile. I screamed bloody murder.

Since that dreadful day 15 years ago, I have regular nightmares of my front tooth breaking out again and again. Sometimes I lose all my teeth. It's very scary. So when I suddenly felt a large piece of enamel in my mouth (that was then swallowed and is still lodged in my throat) it was a nightmare come true. Even worse was my slated absence from home for the next five weeks, and even more concerning--my upcoming wedding.

Tears were shed, fits were thrown, but eventually a solution was found. I delayed my trip one day and had my tooth repaired this morning. While I was very upset to miss a stop on my trip, I knew that I would not have much luck persuading large groups of people with the look I had going. So yesterday was spent in Chicago wallowing in despair that the repair job would leave me looking like a hungry rabbit and today was spent at my dentist's office. Much to my relief and yours, I left with a front tooth even better than the last.

I had hoped my toothy fiasco meant smooth sailing ahead, however, upon my arrival in Michigan I found my hotel room for the next seven nights doesn't have Bravo or MTV. No Project Runway. No Hills. And the tooth chunk is still lodged in my throat. This trip may be cursed. Stay tuned to find out.