This is what I got for my birthday

Eat your heart out! For my 727th birthday, I got a sensational gift. It washes dishes, carves wood statues, helps planes take off from the runway, changes TV channels, irons my clothes, switches lamps on and off, feeds my cats, scrubs my back in the bath, and lets me make phone calls.

I like my new gizmo. Isn't it shiny and wonderful? Now if only I can find the time to read the bloody manual!

Tomorrow is my birthday

Yes, tomorrow is my birthday, and that means I am a Taurus. Not the Ford kind, but the star sign kind.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I will be 26. Again.

The thing about birthdays is that unlike when we're kids, we don't really seem to like them much as we get a little long in the tooth. The less pomp and ceremony, the better. No party. No cake. Na candles.

Just presents.

I don't care how old I get, I always want presents. They make me feel special. Do you know what I mean? Kinda like Christmas. And I can't say what I was going to say about Santa because maybe a 7-year old is reading this post right now and tonight I might have an irate parent calling me up and spitting fire through the phone about how I spoiled Christmas. In April no less!

But yes, I love gifts. The more the better. No cake. No candles. Maybe a drink or eight, and presents.

I shall fill you in all the wonderful things I got for my birthday in my next post. Until then, stay tuned.

7:30AM. Seriously?

Maybe I shouldn't complain, but I'm gonna!

I have a job interview next week. In this economy, it's almost climactic to get an interview serving behind the counter at McDonald's, so I know I'm lucky. But why, why dear God Almighty is the flight out at 7:30, in the morning? There are flights leaving Pittsburgh Airport every hour to great and wonderful destinations. But I get booked on the one that leaves for Philly at sparrow fart.

This shan't be easy. Especially since I have been a man of leisure for the past two months. I work when I want to. I get up when I want to. And very seldom, if ever, do I do that before 7:30am. In fact, I think the last time I did was about 20 years ago for high school. I'm not in high school anymore.

But yes, sparrow fart, crack of dawn, call it what you will. All I know is that I will require an IV on that flight, and it needs to be filled to overflowing with heavily caffeinated coffee. No sugar. No milk. Just pure OOOMPH!

How else will my mind take off for the interview?

Dear Jane

I think I've mentioned before that I write to prison inmates. Makes me feel saintly. And sometimes, it's rewarding.

If you have a few lazy hours and a connection to the www, sit down a flip through a few of the profiles. Some are sad. Some are just downright scary.

For example, this lovely lass' crime? That 80s hairstyle.


But some are not so lucky. Some write more on their profiles than the very basic, "Hi, i've been incarsirated since I was 12 for crimes ranjing from theft, burglirry, murder, fraud, and arsin. Please write me."

Now I don't know about you, but when I was 12, I was watching MacGyver, riding my go-cart down the street, climbing trees, falling out of trees, making mixed tapes. Arson, theft, burglary, murder, and fraud? Where did she find the time?

Either way, I like to write to them. They open my eyes as to what else is going on in the world.

Take, for example, this fine young lady.


She makes me poo in my pants because she looks so violent. But once you look past her shaved head, I'm sure she is a lovely, upstanding person.

Only one way to find out.

From death by crucifixion, to painted eggs

Odd thing, Easter.

So, story has it that this guy was once born, lived, performed a few cool miracles, and then his Dad told him he was gonna die. Sure, we're all gonna die, but this was just nasty. And cruel. And viscious.

Nailed to two wooden planks. In front of a crowd. That's just voyeurism gone too far. But anyway, nails, planks, and then a bit of a guilt trip.

"Do this to save mankind".

So that's how Easter came to be. This guy did in fact go through with it (depending on who you speak to) so now, we're all in debt to him. Say thank you!

And then over the years, commercialism took hold of this holiday by the neck. The guy on the cross wasn't a huge selling point for chocolate companies and card companies. They found it distasteful and quite depressing. So they created an animal. They always create an animal. They decided on something completely opposite to a crucified man.

A RABBIT! How cool. A soft, cuddly bunny. THE Easter bunny. But that's not enough. No. How about if we have this completely irrelevant animal dishing out eggs? Cool. That is SO cool.

So this year, I partook of this fun activity - painting boiled eggs. Now our eggs did NOT turn out as nice as the perfectly painted eggs above. Maybe because we only had three colors (green, red, blue). Kinda limiting, but sill fun.

A guy on a wooden cross. A rabbit. Eggs. And that's how we now know Easter.

Does anyone else squint their eyes in this confusion? Or is it just me?

The one in which two close friends fight

It's never easy when friends fight. Tempers flair, things are said, and sometimes feelings get hurt.

But what do you do when the two people fighting are both close friends of yours? Or, if both these friends are married and you live with them?

I try hard to remain neutral - like Canada, or Switzerland - and try to stay out of it. But like in most cases, one gets caught in the middle.

I'm trying very hard to be just an impartial listener, a friend to both. But this is not always easy. Which is why I am hoping that they find a resolve. Soon.