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The only redeeming thing about my pretzels for lunch is my reservation for Hugo's tonight was made while eating them. This day has been packed with work...

Wonderful weekend! Where are you? (say it to yourself like you're looking for Scooby Doo)

City Hall is still half mast from the US Army Black Hawk helicopter crash in Kuwait.





There are about 5 million people in Houston and I bet most of them don't even know why the flag is lowered.

Ok. Weirdness. On the bus this morning, this guy was sitting next to me that kept talking about his brothers and sisters under God and how he was blessed... he kept laughing out loud and every other sentence was "Thank you Jesus!". I don't have the slightest problem with normal Christianity in it's truest sense. I do however, have a problem with Crackhead Christianity. When the bus got to my destination stop, I stood up and the guy looks at me and says "I am going to defecate. Then, I am going to walk around and be happy and thank Jesus for my wonderful life." No shit. Last night EL and I had planned to go to the Houston Blues Society's monthly open jam. I have been so tired recently. I can't seem to get out of this run down rut that I'm in... so when I got home and saw the AMAZING (again) meal that she prepared, the thought of quiet dinner and snuggling with wine at home made everything else in the world seem unpleasant and unnecessary. We stayed home. She had lunch downtown with Sam and I yesterday before going shopping. She found this cute little sun dress on sale. She bought it and wore it to come pick me up from work. She looked great in it... she liked it. I liked it. Last night, while we were sleeping, Penny chewed the straps off it and ruined it. I left her a note this morning after I found it. I can't even begin to tell you how many shoe laces, lamp cords, telephone cords, speaker wires, handle straps, etc. that my little chainsaw kitty has gone through over the years.

Mai's bar-b-que pork spring rolls rawk!

wtf?

Sometimes coffee just isn't enough. My vision is so sleepy burry that I feel like I'm looking through a sheet of paraffin. I have been pretty busy this morning and am still fighting weariness. EL and I stopped in the village last night to see Harry and Eric, but we didn't stay long and were asleep early, so I don't understand why I'm so damn tired. She made the most fabulous meal last night. I had no idea she was such an amazing cook! A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!! Speaking of amazing, how can anyone be this stupid?

"What is a Vet? He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. She (or he) is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL. He is the Parris Island drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs. He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by. He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he Is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, Just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded. Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU." It's the soldier, not the reporter, who gave us our freedom of the press. It's the soldier, not the poet, who gave us our freedom of speech. It's the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gave us our freedom to demonstrate. It's the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves others with respect for the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag."

So I was listening to NPR on the way into work this morning. Yes, I love NPR. Anyhoo, they had a spot about the mobilization of troops and the intricacies of the supply chain between the US and the deployed forces. Just this morning, before I left for work, I had received the above email from an old friend of mine from the Navy. He is deployed currently and feeling that pain of being away from everything he knows... friends, family, and freedom... for months under arduous conditions. I feel his pain. I remember it well. I am not big on political statements or taking sides in this blogournal I have going here, but let me say this once for the record: I am completely against this war with Iraq. Some of my closest friendships are with people I met during the eight years I served in the military. So, for the folks I know that are 8000 miles from home and unsure of what the coming months will bring, you are in my thoughts and prayers. That is all.

Being at work is harder than ever when I know EL is at home just a few miles away. Last night we stopped by Blanco's to see Joe and Dirk after EL spent a little time (with me in tow) at Tovas. We drank and played shuffleboard with the guys there for a little while before heading home. I finally got to meet Dirk's brother (Vance). I have been quite busy today with meetings and spur of the moment Fred-ish request fulfillment. I am so completely ready to get out of here for the day and even more ready for the weekend. I wish I could control time.

Ok. The Tejon Pub Crawl pics are here. Please feel free to leave comments.

When you get done, you can go here and pretend you were with us on the crawl!

Wow. What a weekend... an amazing weekend. I left Friday on a one way ticket to Colorado Springs. EL and I had planned to stay for the annual Tejon Street Pub Crawl on Saturday night before driving her (permanently) back with me to Texas on Sunday. I had sent out invites to a lot of friends for the pub crawl, but scheduling conflicts and financial concerns prevented attendance. My good buddy Kim stepped up to the plate and vowed to go the distance with me. Her best friend Lara (from Dallas) also joined in on the weekend plans. EL had picked Lara up from the airport on Thursday night because of flight availability and picked Kim up Friday morning because she's an expert at playing hooky from work and beat me to the Springs. I didn't arrive until about 7:00 pee emm on Friday, but I was oh so ready for the weekend. EL had made reservations for us at MacKenzie's Chophouse and so the four of us kicked the weekend off with some excellent steak, seafood, and yummy yummy wine. After dinner, I wanted to show Kim and Lara where EL and I met, so we stopped at Sam's for a few minutes. It was getting late and everyone had a long week and most of us had traveled quite a bit to rendezvous this weekend, so votes were being thrown in to head back to the hotel and retire. I protested and lobbied for 15c. I don't know if you remember 15c, but I posted about it a while back... "You have to go down this shitty ass alley that looks like someplace you shouldn't be... there are no signs or obvious markers along the way... you see a warehouse looking brick building with generic doors along the way... 15e... 15d... 15c... 15b... at 15c, there is a tiny (and I mean tiny) indigo light on one of the bricks... it looks like a light you would see on a wrist watch... the only thing differentiating it from anything else in this fucking shit hole alley. When you open the plain and inconspicuous door, you walk into a fucking swank ass cigar and martini bar that is truly a secret society kinda gig. The entire room is the size of my living room and it fucking rocks. OMG. I love this place." I still love that place. I convinced everyone to go... well, EL wanted to go too, but Kim and Lara were wavering. We walked through town to that cold, dark, smelly alley... we walked down the alley with Kim complaining about being tired... we approached the small indigo light and the plain door with nothing on it but an address along the side of the large brick warehouse looking building with no markers or signs... and then it happened... Kim took back all the things she ever said that contradicted our trip to this small piece of heaven... and then the martinis started to flow. After a while, EL and I decided to find shelter because she had already moved out of her apartment and we needed a hotel. Kim and Lara stayed and took in all of the 15c they could get on this short and wonderful trip. The next day came early and EL and I decided that a last trip to our little Montague's was in order. We met Kim and Lara for brunch there and spent some time browsing the shop before walking the girls back to their room for a nap. While they were resting in preparation for the pub crawl (starting at 5:00), EL and I checked in to the Antlers downtown (where Kim and Lara were staying) for our last night in Colorado. We did some shopping and reminiscing before returning to the hotel for a snack and to pick up the girls. The four of us walked to the first bar on the crawl at about 5:00... Southside Johnny's. There were ten bars on the list and the rest of the night to do it up right. I am not sure about who drank what, but I will tell you that I represented Texas well with those Colorado light weights. There were a few that could hang... but let me emphasize the word few. Most people kept tally on their shirt... there was an official score keeper that held the marker, so you couldn't just mark up your own shirt. A mark by the "B" means you drank a beer... "D" is for mixed drink... "S" is for shot... "T" is for tequila shot (had to be separate)... and "P" is for puke. Here is Clayton's Tejon Street damage from Saturday night:

21 beers, 15 shots, a mixed drink, and a puke... Texas has been represented.

I have a ton of photos, but the Fotki site is down for server maintenance, so I'll blog the link later. Anyhoo, we all had a fabulous time and I'm so glad that Kim and Lara were able to come share mine and EL's last big blowout in Colorado with us... our last night in town before she moved home with me. Sunday morning, EL and I got off to a slow start (obviously), but managed to gather our things, eat lunch with Sara, and get on the road by about 1:00 pee emm. The drive was nice... loooooong, but nice. We stopped for cheesy tourist photos in Clayton, NM... yes, my idea... and then later for the night somewhere between Amarillo and Wichita Falls. Our drive yesterday was hellish at times because of all the sleet and high winds, but we managed to make it home safely by about nine last night. I wanted to sleep in soooooo badly today, but alas, work must be done. So, I'm back to the grind and EL is sleeping at home...

...our home.

We are home.

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...we hit the road today.

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Tick tock tick tock... damn clock.

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