WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME??

I am addicted to the cancelled TV series Futurama. And since I don't own a TV, I've downloaded most of the episodes from the internet.

Anyways. I just found one I hadn't seen. It's called Leela's Homeworld. I won't bore you with the zany plot. But at the very end, where the mutant father tucks in his sleeping daughter, I started crying. Bawling is more like it, actually. And I cried and cried. And cried!



Is this my destiny? Am I eternally lost? Doomed to cry over chick flicks and sleezy romance stories??

CRUEL FATE, SAY IT ISN'T SO!

My wife shaved off all her hair.

Actually, I did. At her request. She just alway wanted to try it. So she did. A couple of weeks ago. And we did not think anything off it. Except that she looks cool. And sexy.

It wasn't until this morning that I realized the amount of shock this has had in the outer circle we move in. Not my friends, mind you. We seem to attract friends that go "cool doo" or "whatever". I don't think any of them where shocked. Or even perplexed. This is more like the people whose name you actually remember and you just meet every now and then. For example, we went contradancing the other night (yes, really, I kid you not). And we met our midwife. On the middle of the dancefloor. And when she saw the hair, or the lack of it, she just blurted out "Oh my god! Are you OK? Do you have cancer??"

I did not really give this another thought. There was some funky stuff going on at that dance, anyway. Until this morning. I went to the gym. With my daughter. And one of the women who usually takes care of her was obviously dying to ask me something. So, after a little dancing around the subject she said that they, i.e. the babysitting crew presumably, just wanted to know if my wife was all right. I did not get it right away, and just told her, matter-of-factly, that I was alone this morning because she had taken a trip back home to be with her mother on her big birthday. "No no," said the woman, "I mean, is she ill?" Then I got it, why she was asking, and after talking with her a little while, I finally really realized that people around here are generally really lost when confronted with something like this. Why would a woman do that, if she was not forced to? Never mind all the fat, clean-shaven male heads you see bobbing about all around here. No, she is a woman, for Pete's sake, and women just don't go around shaving their heads for no good reason!

I ask you, what could possibly constitute a more educating experience than living in a community that is fundamentally different from where you come from?

Did you ever take a bath with your clothes on?

I was brought up in a household where people just did not do that. I seem to remember someone telling me that was the kind of behavior that crazy people exhibit.

Yada-yada-yada. Or let me quote Mr. Flintstone: Yabba-dabba-do. No, actually, yada-yada-yada fit better.

I just came in from the rain. That warm, smooth, calm almost-summer rain. It is a privilege to live where the rain is warm enough to bathe in. Granted, it was a little brisk, it being morning and all, but it was great!

I can't wait until the river in the valley beneath my house is warm enough to swim in it.

Summer...

Funny about my diet.

Now that I am not fasting anymore, I have been going slowly back to eating the same food I always eat. Pasta with boiled tomatos, roasted garlic and fresh basil. Hot curry chicken on boiled rice. Fried noodles with vegetables. Lasagna.

I seem to be adding the things that are worst for me back into my diet last. For example, I didn't buy a McDonalds until last week, and it wasn't until today that I bought my first candy bar again. A Twix, incidently. And a small bag of black & white m&m. What's up with that, anyway? I haven't had it before, but it tasted just like the old, colored ones. Only looked blander.

The point: I missed much of this stuff while fasting. Some it I literally craved, like grilled cheese, and pizza. But none of it – and I mean none of it – stood up to expectations when I finally got to eating it again. Not even the pizza. It actually gave me a heartburn. Which I hadn't had in months.

Sad. So sad.

I actually feel a little bit like Captain Haddock, when he discovers (in TinTin and the Picaros) that he can no longer derive any pleasure from his drinking.


Dictatorial duck billed diplodocus!

She's pregnant!

No, not my wife. My biking partner. This is about the only excuse I would have accepted for her not riding this summer. Last summer it was she, and she alone, who was to thank for me surviving the 100 mile bikeride we went on.

So. Does anybody here like to ride road bikes?