Happy Birthday...

to my sister, Stephanie. She's not that old, but still two years older than I. She thinks she hasn't accomplished much in her life, but everybody who knows her begs to differ. Love you sis!

Designer Clothing and Idaho

Part of the awesomeness of my job is that I get to dress up each day for work. Dressing up might be a stretch, at least as far as imagining me not looking like a schmuck, but I have to wear button-down shirts and tuck them in, which definitely counts as dressing up in my book.

Lately I've been wondering about the fashion designers who create the looks I wear. The funny thing is, I don't really know who they are. I'm not talking about the Tommy Hilfigers, Hugo Bosses and Calvin Kleins...I'm wondering who David Taylor is, Van Heusen, and Hagar. You never see them on the style channel, never read about them in magazines or hear about their awesome fashion shows in Paris and Milan. But obviously they're real names of people who design clothes, aren't they?

And what's with these ultra-conservative types who rail against homosexuality then get caught in toilet stalls with their pants around their ankles? Jesus isn't going to save those guys.

The Historian and Kids

So I just got finished with a long ass book called The Historian. It's kind of about Dracula. It's about 860 pages about a historian who doesn't believe in Dracula but finds enough clues that the bad dude himself may be alive that he searches for him all over Europe, then maybe 40 pages of action that actually involve Dracula. That is not a good ratio, my friend. That's a lot of buildup, maybe a little too much background history, you might say. How about half the book is about the historian searching for Dracula, then the other half is Dracula beating his ass. Or maybe 1/3 is him not believing in Dracula, then 1/3 is him searching for Dracula, then 1/3 him getting beat down by Dracula. Except for like 1/16th at the very very end where he kills Dracula.

By the way, he does end up killing Dracula at the end. Or so you think...

Lexi can now climb over her baby gates. She just hops right over. Except for the one that's in the doorway of her room. I think she can do it but chooses not to when we're not looking, so she can spring it on us one day like when she learned to climb out of her crib. I expect I'll be getting out of the shower and she'll just be standing in our room, like, "Hey Dad, what's up?".

Tonight I was laying in bed with her for a few minutes and she was telling me what Joey says at Daycare. I couldn't understand her though, it was like, "Joey says fooboomafoo". I said, "Foomoobafoo?" and she said, "No, fooboomafoo". I tried again, "Foomoobafoo?" And she leaned over and pushed my head down onto the pillow and said, "Shut your eyes Daddy". Apparently I only get one try to understand what she's saying.

Bioshock and Tuna Fish

I've been playing a new game that came out this past week, Bioshock. It's gotten a lot of press lately and the first reviews were very positive. I'm normally not a fan of the genre that this game is in, but I played it for a few hours last night and it was really pretty awesome. It's kind of a first person shooter, but there's enough action mixed with puzzle type elements that it makes for a great game.

The graphics are great, especially the water. From the outset of the game, where you've survived a plane crash and you're swimming in the ocean near the downed jet and have to swim towards land, you're immersed in a gorgeous world that just takes over. The whole world they've created just draws you in and is done in such a great style that it kept me playing much longer than I normally would have for this type of game.

Anyway, the tuna fish thing...just found a great recipe the other day for tuna sandwiches without mayo...using lime juice, cilantro and scallions, it was a nice, light summery type of sandwich and hit the spot (though there was too a little too much cilantro).

If green means 25 mph then count me out...

I've never been in a Prius or other hybrid car. I rarely even notice them on the street. But this week I've had three (3 in one week!) encounters with the almighty Prius, all of them being almost exactly the same (only the colors were different).

Encounter one: I'm leaving the parking structure at work, last in a line of about 5 cars. When we get to the bottom I realize the lead car is a Prius going 10 miles an hour. I'm not needing to speed through parking structures, but even after we got out of the garage he continued at the same pace for about three more blocks. Worse yet was his license plate, "Oommpph". That's the sound his car made as he tried to get it into second gear to go the speed limit I guess.

Second encounter: Almost the same as the first, but this time I got from the parking structure to the street, and as soon as I turned onto the street, there was a Prius ahead of me going about 25 miles an hour (speed limit is 35 there). This guy apparently lives near me because I ended up following him nearly a mile, him going under the speed limit the whole time (though I suspect he sped up as soon as I turned onto my street).

Third encounter: Just driving down the street again, this time nowhere near work, and I get stuck behind another Prius owner that drives about 27 mph on a road that's 40. This is typical on this street, because the speed limit sign is hidden behind a tree so people never know that they can go quicker than this, but because this was my third slow Prius encounter in a week, I didn't give that little bastard the benefit of the doubt.

So what's the problem here? Do Prius owners just drive slow, or can the cars themselves not accelerate quickly? I don't really mind a leisurely pace now and again, but this just seemed too bizarre that each time it was a Prius.

Gyro mess

So I tried this great new recipe in Cook's Illustrated for homemade Gyros. At least it looked like a great recipe, until I followed it and it tasted like crap.

This is apparently where my lack of cooking skill tends to show itself most readily -- when I try to cook something.

Lex and I went to the grocery store and found all the ingredients. Lemon, garlic, onion, fresh herbs, ground lamb. All the stuff I wouldn't normally be able to fit in the cart because the Hot Pockets are taking up all the space, but since I was just getting stuff for this one recipe, I had no excuse.

Followed the recipe exactly. I do this to prove that it's not the recipe's fault, it's my own, when things don't turn out.

So I had to make a paste of all the ingredients, then add the paste to the ground lamb. Then form little balls (no jokes please), squish them into patties, and cook them in oil for a few minutes. They formed the requisite hard shell on each side, so with all systems go, I assembled the gyros: Tzatsiki, shredded lettus, Tomatoz and the homemade lamb patties.

Ugh. I had to thank the Mrs. for finishing hers. I ended up eating one and a half, but only because I was so hungry from making them. The patties were soggy in the middle and this totally ruined the gyros. Is it really just too much to ask for a restaurant that makes good gyros so I don't have to try making my own?

And to think that last week I wanted to try making Beef Wellington. Looks like I'm back to beans and weenies. Those I can't screw up.