A bit of a Life of Brian wrap-up before we really get the New Year going...

My birthday was great. Really great. Twenty-odd friends and family members packed in to the Cigar Room, drinking Guinness and having a great time. Thanks to all that came out to Quigley's to celebrate and buy me a pint. The Actress even stayed until the very end, talking with me and my folks after everyone had gone home.

Oh, and I'm afraid that's all the information you get regarding me and my dating life. It's just not something I'm going to go into great detail on here. All you need to know is that things are moving along nicely.

For a suburban not-very-Irish pub, it's a pretty decent place to be. The Guinness is good, the bartenders are all from Cork or Kerry or Dublin and the female servers wear these green plaid skirts that are just fabulous.

The pictures don't do the night justice. Not that it was a big drunken blowout or anything. We all were quite responsible. It was just a lot of people that are near and dear to me all together talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves.

You can't really ask for a better birthday present than to see all your friends having a good time.

In other Irish-related news I'm almost done with a great book me ma and da got me for Christmas. It's just an Irish travelogue called McCarthy's Bar, but it's quite funny, and brings back many fond memories of my recent pub wanderings over there.

New Years? I didn't do much of anything. Stopped over at the Duders' place for a bit and met the senior Duders, but I spend most of my night with my nose buried in the McCarthy book.

No one was really doing anything this year, and since I had been out with everyone the night before, I wasn't too concerned about staying in to ring in the New Year.

And today's my Grandma's birthday, so Happy Birthday Gram!

Tomorrow is the good Professor Tolkien's birthday, so wherever you are, be sure to raise a glass to him. Preferably a pint of beer. He liked beer.

And finally, since I can't go more than two weeks without mentioning him, I wonder how Bicyclemark has been enjoying his stay in the Garden State?

Farewell, 2004! This rotten year is done.

Did I just have a bad dream, or did all of that actually happen?

Did Janet really flash her tittie at the Super Bowl?

Did the war in Iraq actually get worse as the year went on? And we still didn't find any WMDs? Or Osama?

We didn't actually re-elect that guy, did we?

That earthquake didn't actually happen, right? Isn't that just something I saw in The Day After Tomorrow? Something like that can't actually happen to people. It has to be a dream.

No, it's not a dream. All of this is very, very real.

What is this strange place I've woken up to?

The rest of the world thinks we're a bunch of uneducated religious freaks who would rather blindly follow a fool than elect someone who doesn't see things in harsh black and white.

We're not all like that, but that's what happens when there's more of them than you.

There was a lot of that thinking going on this year.

The truth is never what the outsiders think it is.

But we don't live in the age of nuance. It's all black and white and them against us.

Still, it wasn't all bad. I had a week in Galway, a long drive up the New Jersey Turnpike, and a short trip to Florida to see the girls.

I also had dark clouds over my head most of the year. Doubt and loneliness and alienation plagued me like a rash that won't go away.

But the end of the year brought clarity and understanding and hope.

33 feels good, like a suit tailored to fit your frame.

I spent 2004 on a sabbatical from life, in order to reevaluate and reexamine what was important to me. To reflect on many of my decisions, the good ones and the not-so-good ones.

2005 is here, and it is time to move forward. There is so much to look forward to, so much to do.

No matter what happens in the world, no matter what darkness and disaster tries to do to us, there is nothing to do but to move forward, and to keep trying to find some sort of happiness in this strange, lovely world.

Happy New Year to family and friends, old and new. I wish you all glad tidings and most of all, I wish you peace.

I don't have time to tell the whole story now, but here's just a glimpse into my birthday festivities from last night.

I'm not saying Alex is sensitive about his race, but when Jessica ordered a Black and Tan it was just too much for him...

All children, except one, grow up.

That was Peter Pan.

Today I'm 33 years old. I joke around that it's my "coming of age" in Hobbit years, but there's a greater truth there. I've known for a while now that I have avoided many aspects of "growing up," relishing the strange freedom I have to do whatever I want whenever I want with whomever I please.

But I know that I am older now, and that slowly but surely I am casting away many of the immature aspects of my life.

2005 may be a bit different for me, but I look forward to the change and the challenge.

I may have to step away from some of you Lost Boys and Lost Girls I surround myself with, but these are things that have to happen. I've known that for a while now. Recent events have only strengthened this knowledge.

Don't worry, I'll still be here. For now. But who knows what time and tide, stock and stone, shall bring?

To live is an awfully big adventure, isn't it?

So what could be the best possible birthday present I could get?

Well, aside from peace and love between all friends and nations?



The Pogues have reunited.

Who knows for how long, but it's a beautiful thing.

Happy Birthday to me.

I just stacked up all of the CDs I bought that came out in 2004, and I could only come up with 12.

A dozen? That's it?

And looking at them, there isn't one real album that totally blew me away this year. So I guess this year was kind of disappointing, music-wise.

But not really. Even though I bought them in late '03, Underachievers Please Try Harder by Camera Obscura and Give Up by the Postal Service were still the most-played albums by me this year. I think Give Up is just about the best thing to come down the pike since I can remember.

But here's the rest of the best, the "official" favorites of 2004, according to me:








12. Morrissey - You Are the Quarry
This is the first actual Morrissey album I ever bought. I always had roommates that were fairly obsessed with Moz, so I never had to pick anything up for myself. It's kind of boring and I don't listen to it a whole lot. And I'm still trying to figure out why he has such a huge Latino fanbase.

11. The Finn Brothers - Everyone is Here
Another album I bought and just don't listen to a whole lot. I'd rather play Neil's live album from a couple of years back.

10. The Beta Band - Heroes to Zeroes

Still not as good as The Three EPs, but a darn good album just the same.

9. Badly Drawn Boy - One Plus One Is One

I don't think Damon Gough will ever top the About a Boy soundtrack, but One is a big step up from Have You Fed the Fish, which was too big and too thick with synth/orchestra overload. This one is a bit more stripped down, although I still can't get into the rock flute.

8. Air - Talkie Walkie
Good background atmospherics from the French lads. I'll always think of the bartenders at the Roisin Dubh playing this over and over while I was in Galway.

7. U2 - How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
Too overhyped and overplayed. Aside from "Love and Peace or Else", "City of Blinding Lights" and "Yahweh", this album is as forgettable as "Walk On" was for me on their last album.

6. Modest Mouse - Good News for People Who Love Bad News

A group I never expected to be as popular as they became this year. It's a pretty good album, but it's a shame they didn't hit it big with The Moon and Antarctica.

5. Neko Case - The Tigers Have Spoken
A fantastic live album from Ms. Case, showcasing her pipes, excellent taste in covers, and a few lovely new tracks as well. If you like country, you should start listening to Neko and give up everything else.

4. Loretta Lynn - Van Lear Rose
Jack White is good. Jack White is great. Jack made Loretta sound so fucking great on this album.

3. Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous

A difficult choice for #3. A top 5 stop implies greatness, and something that will stand up to time and the critics. It starts off with a bang, and has signs of brilliance, but Rilo Kiley is a tough band for me to figure out. I think they could be great, but I just don't know for certain yet.

2. Ben Kweller - On My Way

There is no doubt about it; Ben is the real deal. If he can write songs like "My Apartment" and "Need You Back" at the age of 21, who knows what he's capable of.

1. Wilco - A Ghost is Born
I feel a little guilty putting these guys at #1. It's kind of like proclaiming that your girlfriend is the most beautiful girl in the world. I've been fans of them since almost the beginning, I've seen them over a dozen times, and I pretty much think they're the best band in the world. Ghost is a great album, but I don't know if it's their best, and it took me a long time to crack into it and figure it out. But that's what makes them great; each album is a brand-new experience and if you walk in expecting a sequel to their last album (a la U2) then you will be disappointed.

Best single of the year: "It's a Hit" by Rilo Kiley. If only the rest of the album was as good as this song...

Best concert of the year: (tie) Camera Obscura in Arlington, VA on a muggy August night, and Wilco at the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago.

Favorite new band of the year: Death Cab for Cutie. Or Death Cab, for those in the know. Right, ETF?

Song I played and played and played and never got tired of: "Girls" by Death in Vegas.

So what were your favorites?

I hate it when Tony gets to something before I do. He's good like that.

I was going to write about my favorite albums of this year, but I don't want to feel like I'm copying. I'll write about 'em later.

Right now I'm listening to the new live Neko Case album, which is so incredibly good. I know people have talked about how great Gretchen Wilson is, because she's taking country back to it's roots, which is just bullshit. It's still crap. Overproduced, overhyped crap.

Seriously...the song "The Tigers Have Spoken" is just gorgeous. Go buy it. Now.

Sorry if the blog has been a bit uneven over the past 24 hours. I've had to go to the mattresses a bit.

'Nuff said.

I think every single person I know is off watching this somewhere today...

Are you?

The previous post was causing too much confusion, and too many questions, so just forget about it.

I ended up having a rather merry Christmas.

Sometimes I don't. For years it was "Do I have to go spend it with my fucking father?" But I don't need to worry about that anymore.

This was the first year I haven't spent Christmas with my sister and her family, so that was a bit sad, but I had Mom and Dave over for brunch and presents which was pretty great. Nice and simple.

Then I've done the Naperville Family Christmas and the Sandwich Family Christmas, which goes about how everyone else's goes. Lots of food and people and half-conversations and old people setting themselves on fire and the secret shame of not having/giving enough presents.

I got some cool stuff. An Egyptian papyrus that my mom got me from her trip to Egypt earlier this year; a framed copy of Meet the Beatles (I get an original Beatles album from M&D every year); a pretty kick-ass corduroy sport coat which makes me feel all frumpy and professor-like; and a copy of Long Way Round, which is a book about Ewan McGregor's motorcycle trip around the world.

I want to start reading it right now but I think I need to take my tree down, which is dropping needles at a fire-hazard-any-second-now rate. I think I could take a swig from this bottle of Jack I got in my stocking, blow on the tree, and it would immediately go up in flames. I really should have had someone water it while I was in Florida.

No, what I really want to do is go see The Life Aquatic. Anyone want to go to the movies? Right now? Please?

Want to avoid wrapping presents and last-minute Christmas shopping? Try this out...




I got a 69 on it. (Snicker!) Thanks to Just a Girl for the time-waster!

He sees you when you're sleeping,
He knows when you're awake.
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!

Sorry, I couldn't resist. You will note, however, that I've been very good lately and I haven't ragged on the man. But there's nothing like a wacky picture of President Bush to lighten the mood!

After a quick trip to the adult book store my Christmas shopping will be done. I decided to get everyone porn this year.

Want a helpful shopping tip: head to them outdoor malls when it's about 5 degrees outside. No crowds, no lines...

Had dinner with some friends from work last night and met Girl 1. She was very cool and very funny. I liked her enough to admit my secret love of The Gilmore Girls.

Reminder: 6 more days until the big birthday bash at Quigley's. Many will be attending.

It's been a bit quiet out there in the blogosphere. I figure everyone's traveling back home, like Bicyclemark, who is back home in Newark with the family. Merry Christmas, pal, and welcome back to the states.

Mark is the one that introduced me to Flickr, a great photo site. I dumped a few pics in there to get things started. I love the little zeitgeist thing on the left of my blog. Very nifty.

I have a lot to do today, folks, so I'm going to wrap up this rather disjointed entry and get some presents wrapped.

Wherever you are, I hope the traveling went well and that you are enjoying time with friends and family.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Birthday to my sister today!




We originally had plans to have this monster blowout birthday to celebrate my 33rd (in one week) and her big one. I'll be nice and won't reveal her age, but I'll at least say she's younger than me.

If one of the hallmarks of being a good sibling is tolerance of other siblings, then she must get the award for Sister of a Lifetime. You don't know the shit she puts up with from me.

Happy Birthday, Janie. Hope it's great.

Kathleen Parker has a great column about the return of "Merry Christmas" as a popular salutation for this time of year. (Tribune columnist Eric Zorn also has a great series of columns about a similar topic.)

It's been gone for a while, you know, replaced by the safer and non-offensive "Happy Holidays" or "Season's Greetings."

Now, even though I was raised Lutheran, served as a pre-teen acolyte, went to Luther League, taught Sunday School for a bit in college, served as an assistant Pastor or whatever that's called, I don't go to church anymore.

I'm kind of in the Christian alumni club.

A big reason is that the fundamentalists out there kind of ruined it for me, but I'm not going to get into that whole religion thing right now. I just don't get into going to church anymore. And I never go to Christmas services, either. I feel like that's being disrespectful to the church. I feel like I should go regularly, or not go at all. Me showing up on just Christmas Eve or Easter is being hypocritical.

So I'm the perfect person to agree that people shouldn't have these big Christian holidays shoved down the non-believers' throats. If I was Jewish, or Hindu, or Muslim, I guess I would get sick of Christmas Christmas Christmas everywhere.

I would most likely be one of these liberal, PC guys who thinks we should say "Happy Holidays" out of respect for the other holidays and religions that are out there.

Except I hate saying Happy Holidays. I like Merry Christmas better.

I love saying "Merry Christmas" to people. It makes me feel good, and when I say that, I'm wishing them good cheer and all that stuff.

I'm not wishing them "Enjoy this day where our saviour was born, may his grace and peace be with you always." That sounds nice, but I'm not religious enough to mean that when I say it.

When I tell you "Merry Christmas" I'm hoping that you have a day where you get to be with your family, eat lots of good food, sit by a fire, and enjoy watching people open the gifts you bought them.

I hope you get together with friends from far away and that when you walk in from the cold the house is warm and bright and there is someone to hug when you walk through the door.

I hope you enjoy some time off from work. I hope you use that time to think about the year that has gone by and what your hopes are for the next year.

I hope you enjoy all the great movies that come out this time of year.

I hope you have a night where your family all sits around the kitchen table, drinks beer and eats lots of fatty snacks and tells funny stories about people that are there and remembers the people that aren't there anymore, or are far away.

That's what I mean when I say "Merry Christmas" to people. When I say it it has pretty much nothing to do with what religion you are, or what God is, or what a woman should do with her body. But it has everything to do with what all those religions out there are trying to say:


Peace on Earth, Good Will towards Men.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Oh, by the way, the best fucking episode ever of Lost is on tonight. It's the one about Mr. Locke. Don't miss it.

Welcome to Celebration, Florida.

This is an actual town that was planned by the Disney corporation a decade or so ago, located a stone's throw away from Walt Disney World itself.

After spending the day revisiting St. Cloud, a place I lived for a few years in the mid-80s, I had my sister take me on a little tour of Celebration, to see what it was really like.

I had heard that it was planned as a reaction to the suburban sprawl that had affected so much of modern life. Houses would look old-fashioned, with garages in the back and porch swings in the front. The town square would be within walking distance for everyone. Houses would be affordable.

And that's basically what it looks like. The town square was jumping, the streets were clean and tree-lined, and the Christmas decorations were out. Very Norman Rockwell. If Rockwell had used pastels and painted lots of palm trees.

The history of Celebration, as far as I can gather, is that it promised a return to a more "innocent" time, where kids played kick the can and chased fireflies, while their parents gathered together at the lake to talk and commune.

As usual it didn't quite work out that way.

The usual squabbling and in-fighting occurred. The houses were shabbily built, and at the same time never became affordable to the "average" homebuyer. A library wasn't built by the county, and the school had problems. Residents complained of living a "fishbowl" existence, due to the media coverage. Apparently when visitors would drive through the streets, gawking at "The Disney Town" (ahem, just like I was doing), teens would move herky-jerky like Disney animatronics.) Eventually Disney slowly backed away.

I'm all for creating towns that aren't so centered around our goddamn cars, where houses aren't secondary to the three-car garages. I like the idea of being able to take a walk "downtown" and run into friends and neighbors. I like to think that the world was like that at one time, instead of this sad, disconnected feel of everything we have today.

But I don't know if towns like Celebration are the answer, where "looking back" is considered progress. At one time I may have believed that. At one time I thought the small-town, Bedford Falls/Cicely, Alaska way of life was the cure for society's (or at least my) ills. And maybe small town life still is a wonderful life to live. I still enjoy heading back home and drinking beer with my friends in the Old Tyme Inn on Main Street, but I can't live like that every day. At the same time I'm not giving an endorsement to the horrific strip-mall/five-lane highway neighborhood I live in now, either.

I think Celebration doesn't work for me because it doesn't seem very "organic" to me. Even though all the other suburbs and neighborhoods were built one way, This One Will Be Different.

It seems too much like the family that hates each other posing for a Christmas card where it's all smiling faces and happy holiday sweaters.

I think our modern suburban life is a real mess, and I'm not the first person to say that, and I certainly don't have the answers. But I don't think a planned community like Celebration is the answer, either.

---------------------

What is interesting to me is where Celebration will go next, now that ownership has changed and the residents have cycled through once or twice. Now that the high-concept "idea" of Celebration has worn off, what will happen to Celebration? How will it evolve?

Greetings, faithful readers!

If you're big fans of the Bri-man, go click over to Tony's site right now and you'll get a special treat. (And see if you can spot a little hidden plug for my favorite bike-riding blogger.)

And if you happened to have wandered over here from Tony's site, and are new to The State I'm In, I say welcome, come on in, the water's fine. Lots of good stuff here.

Come back tomorrow--I still have one story to tell from my weekend trip to Florida, and it will explain where I took this picture...



Until then, I'm going to chug some cough syrup and pass out on the couch. My vacation starts today.

Remember that little trickle of phlegm that had rented out space in my throat the other night? Well, I think it just moved in for good. The lovely Indian doctor I saw yesterday says I probably have bronchitis. I was going to go to work today, but the coughing kept me up til past 3 AM, and so I figured, hmm, maybe I'm not in very good shape to go to school.

But I'm working at home today, so it's all good. Grading papers and whatnot.

I felt well enough Saturday night to invite a couple of College Girls Gone Wild over. (They're actually members/directors on the staff of my theatre group, in case you're wondering why I'm hanging out with so many college-age people.) Spitfire just got back from a whirlwind tour of East Asia, where she not only brought me this nifty scroll written in Chinese, but she also broght me this little guy seen below.

He's called a tanuki. And he has huge fucking balls. He also carries a fashionable-looking handbag, and what looks like either a sack of money or a jug of liquor.

Spitfire is the coolest. Almost as cool as China, which used to be cool.

I'm sure at this point I could spin this marvelously dirty tale of me and two college girls partying it up all night, but that would be a big fat lie. Since most everything in here is true, I can tell you that we just sat and talked about traveling to faraway places, and the little alcohol that was consumed was by those over 21.

Speaking of women, tonight I was supposed to have drinks with The Actress, but since I'm currently doing my best Doc Holliday imitation, I had to cancel. There is a tentative rain date on Thursday, which is going to be tricky, since I might be having lunch with Suburban Artist and Friend of the Artist. Stay tuned.

There's no way this one is photoshopped...




Photo courtesy of the Mighty Flippy!

Peter Pan is celebrating its 100th anniversary this month.

In 1929 Mr. Barrie donated all rights to Peter Pan to Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital. To this day, the hospital receives royalties for any version of Peter Pan that is produced.

The name Wendy had never been used until Peter Pan. Mr. Barrie created the name from a little girl's mispronounciation of "Friendy."

J.M. Barrie was inspired to write the play after he developed a friendship with he Llewelyn-Davies family.

Peter Lewelelyn-Davies referred to Peter Pan as "that terrible masterpiece." He later threw himself in front of a London Underground train at the age of 63.

The first actor to play Peter Pan was a woman named Nina Boucicault, who starred in the original London Production.

The first movie I ever remember seeing was the 1953 Disney movie at the Plano theatre. The ride at Walt Disney World is still my favorite.

When I traveled to London for the first time in the spring of 2001, the first thing I saw was the Pan statue in Kensington Gardens.

Mr. Barrie once said, "Nothing that happens after we are twelve matters very much."

Do you know why Peter left for Neverland? When he was a baby, he heard his mother talking about his future, about where he would go to school, and what profession he would take, and he decided he didn't want any of that. So his pram rolled away into Kensington Gardens, and he was lost, until Tinker Bell found him and carried him away to Neverland.

I think that act is one of the key elements of Peter Pan, the key reason it resonates so strongly with people: the reaction against a future all planned out for you, with no surprises left.

I always felt sorry for Wendy Darling at the end of Peter Pan. Knowing that she would have to grow up and become part of this repressive English culture. (Although the only reason Peter and the Lost Boys wanted her around was so she could cook and clean for her!)

Still, I like to think that Barrie was reacting against that prim English society. I like to think that Peter flying into the nursery window is nothing short of revolutionary. Primordial Chaos entering into a well-ordered and well-planned life.

Peter isn't really a hero, though. He's violent, smug, and forgetful. He embodies most of the worst aspects of being young, that self-centeredness that drives adults crazy. In a sense, he's the Devil, tempting us with pleasures and delights and the promise of never having to grow up.

But we all grow up, which means we put away childish things and we take on responsibilities and we have our hearts broken and we experience death and lots of other things both wonderful and sad.

I suppose that's what a lot of Finding Neverland is about, that crossover from boy to man. Barrie doesn't want to grow up, while Peter Lewelelyn-Davies had to grow up too soon.

It's a remarkable movie, for many reasons. It's about life and death, and the theatre, and creativity. It's about a man who raises eyebrows for spending too much time with a family. It's about a wounded boy who carries too much weight on his young shoulders.

You should see Finding Neverland for those reasons, but mostly you should see it for the performance of Freddie Highmore as Peter. He is very, very good in this movie.

Some may dismiss the movie as being too sweet and sticky, but they would be wrong. That's what Hook was. Finding Neverland is much darker than that, but at its core is a movie of wonderful beauty and grace. From the moment the orphans arrive at the theatre, to the old woman's enjoyment of the crocodile ("Time is chasing after us all, isn't it?"), to the private performance for the seriously ill Sylvia, the tears flowed from my eyes and didn't stop until well after the movie had ended.

It was the Chicago-transplant Robodopeness's birthday today. Go wish him a happy one and see if he'll give up some of the Guinness.

His name is Matt, and I don't know if Robodopeness is a name or a state of mind, but I call him that anyway.

I have a little trickle of phlegm that keeps sliding down my throat and

is

slowly

driving

me

crazy.

It never rains, but it pours...

Here's the conversation I just had in the hallway, coming back from lunch:

Teacher: Hey, Brian!

Me: Yeah?

Teacher: You got a girlfriend?

Me: Uh-oh, here we go...

Teacher: What?

Me: Oh, nothing. Why do you ask?

Teacher: Were you here at the breakfast yesterday?

Me: No, I was at my other school. (Editor's note: I have offices in two different buildings.)

Teacher: Then you didn't see Mr. ________'s daughter?

Me: No.

Teacher: She's single...

Me: You don't say!

Teacher: Here, he's not in his office right now. Let's go look at her picture!

Me: You know, you're the third person this week that's tried to fix me up...

I saw the picture, and she's pretty damn gorgeous. Plays violin or something like that, lives downtown. Brown hair.

What kind of strange powers am I giving off right now? I seem to be transforming everyone I know into "Fiddler on the Roof"-style Matchmakers.

It all starts next week. I'll try to keep everyone informed without actually giving away any details. Because that could be bad.

Have a lovely weekend...

It was a fake, in the end.

In my haste to post one of the most fucked-up pics of Bush in recent memory I didn't do what all good journalists should do, and that's actually investigate the damn information!

Which is why I'm not a professional journalist.

Turns out it's some doctored picture of Bush from a while back.

Someone sent me the picture of Bush getting "serviced" by someone and so I put it up. I even went to the original blog to find it, but since I was at work, I think the firewall blocked some of the pics.

Anyway, it's a fake, but it was still pretty damn funny. Tony even posted it on his site and gave me a link, but it's not deserved. Give me the mark of shame and throw me in the same pit as Dan Rather.

Well, here goes nothing! After a year-long self-imposed moratorium on dating (to sort some things out in my head) I'm back in the pool. I have two, count em, two possible dates lined up. Another person emailed me today inquiring if I was still single. Looks like Christmas has come early for me this year.

And Cute Republican (w/ Boyfriend) had lunch with me today.

Sigh...her hair smells like red fruit loops...

When the Robot Holocaust finally comes, I hope that I spend my final moments in a proper Irish pub. With a Guinness and a smoke in my dying hands. I figure, if it's my last moments on earth (before I'm harvested for battery fuel), I'm going to go out in style.

Irish pubs have become a bit Disneyfied around here, though. Too many brand-new "pubs" dropped right next to ritzy shopping centers. You can shop all day and have a watered-down pint of stout afterwards while staring at "ancient" bagpipes and tin whistles hanging from the walls.

There's a few good ones around, though. Jimmy's in Peoria was my hangout during college. The Roisin Dubh in Galway, Ireland is the best I've found.

I'll be at Quigley's in Naperville at 7:00 on December 30th. I'll be turning 33 that day.

I used to be the prince of house parties a few years back, but since I downsized to this apartment I can't throw 'em like a used to.

New Years was my specialty, but I'm taking a break from hosting that for a while. So #33 it is.

So all you readers out there, specifically the ones in the area, and who actually know me (although that's not a requirement), come on down to Quigley's. It's not too bad for a Naperville bar. And the girls wear these plaid skirts that drive me crazy.

We'll have a pint or two and enjoy the holiday season.

That's my birthday wish--that I get to see all my friends all crammed into a pub together, having a good time.

Hope to see you there!

Doug had a request to post this picture up and ask for captions, so (all apologies to T. Pierce) feel free to submit your best captions for this picture.

Here is my submission:

"I'd ilke to introduce my new cabinet member to my member."

In other news I'm getting a bad cold which really pisses me off because that free Wes Anderson show at the Metro is tonight and I really wanted to go and take pictures and listen to music and hang out with Kate but instead I'll be drinking 7-up and sucking on Halls all night.

At least I have all the docs and shit on that ROTK DVD I bought yesterday.

Bri's Birthday Bash Announcement coming soon.

As I wrap up watching the extended version of The Return of the King, I am reminded that my Hobbit coming-of-age birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks.

I won't get all nerdy on you, but 33 is when hobbits supposedly become adults or something like that. Maybe the equivalent of our 18 or 21.

I became an adult a long time ago, or so you would think. Many people could disagree with that statement.

So I think I need to have a party. A big one. Where I invite everyone I know and we drink a lot and be merry and shit.

'Cept I live in a tiny, tiny apartment. So I need to think about this.

There will be an ANNOUNCEMENT tomorrow concerning the upcoming festivities.

Stay tuned.

Too tired to write anything new, and I only have a few minutes on my break, so here are some comments I left on other peoples' blogs recently:


From The Winter of Discontent:
To me Christmas has become the ultimate exercise in existential futility. I roll that rock up the hill, hoping I get to the top and find wonderful inner happiness, but instead the rock rolls back down the hill and I start all over again.

From Bicyclemark:

I find it incredibly hard to pick any side any more when it comes to events far, far away from home. I like to think I know the players well enough to know who the heroes and villians are, but more often than not both sides are a little of both.

Sometimes I fall into Baron Munchausen's explanation for all his stories that no one believed: "Vas you dere?" If I'm not heavily involved, it's hard to for me to judge.

And of course my personal favorite that I left on XTX's a while back:

Poo is the new black.

I wish this picture came out better than it did. What a sight--Chicago at night, amber lights and tall buildings everywhere.

I get home, it's almost midnight, and what do I do?

I blog.

I'm such a loser.

Welcome home, me.

You know, before, when I was joking about how white trash my family is?

Nahh, never mind. I won't go there.

Visited cousins today in St. Cloud. Saw horses, dogs, cats, pot-bellied pigs, baby turtles, ducks, wild boars, wild baby boars, orphaned baby bunnies (due to a cannibal mother), chickens, a goat, bass and catfish, and probably many other unseen creatures hiding amongst the palmettos and couch cushions.

'Twas a freakin' menagerie today.

Have you ever woken up in the morning, did a few things, and then went back to sleep? You know how you can never remember those things you did during that brief time you were awake?

That's what my years in Florida felt like. A dream. Or a nightmare, depending on what mood I'm in.

Grew up in a small Illinois town, moved to Florida for a few years, then moved back to the same small Illinois town. The Florida years faded away, like they never really happened.

Such a strange thing to do today, driving around these sand roads and horse pastures that were once my home. I mowed that yard, I waited for the bus on that corner, I bought my first Coca-Cola Classic from that corner store.

My face is tight from a slight sunburn and I'm a bit tired and achy from the futon. It will be hard to leave the girls, but my hobbit-hole awaits.

Today I realized that I didn't make arrangements for someone to water the ole Christmas tree.

Or pick up the Tribune.

Oh well.

See you all soon.

Just a quick update: flight outa Chicago was a breeze, even as freezing rain and snow was headed our way.

Florida was warm and muggy when I arrived in the late evening. Slept on a futon that was entirely too small, but the extra-large TV kept me entertained (editor's note: don't watch 1984 late at night in a strange place.)

High winds and mid-60s temps today as we wandered around St. Pete and strolled the turbulent beach. Seagulls attempted to take away my niece to a strange land where they would make her their queen, but I saved her in the nick of time.

Tomorrow I head to St. Cloud, a place I lived for a few years as a teenager. It's been 15 years since I've seen the place. I hated, hated living in Florida when I was that age. Hated leaving my Midwest, my friends and family. Fortunately it only lasted a few years.

I'm not a warm weather guy. I love the change of seasons, the autumn leaves, shorts in summer, fires in winter. You just don't get that down here. Too much sand and humidity and pastels.

The girls are of course a joy to see again, even though they left me only a week or so again. But the change of scenery is nice. I can handle palm trees for a weekend.

Now that Cameron's a bit older I'm trying to subvert her from the traditional kid stuff. She's of course obsessed with Disney princesses, and all that crap, but last year my first move was a little Roald Dahl by way of Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka.

This year it's Tim Burton and The Nightmare Before Christmas. We watched it this afternoon and as soon as it was over she shouted, "Play it again!"

She's on her way.

Oh, by the way: go to this site and check out the trailer for Tim Burton's take on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. If you're as crazy about kid movies as I am, you should find this interesting.

So long, people! I'm off to catch a plane in a few hours. Look for updates this weekend, plus some pictures of beautiful, sunny Florida.

(I'll try not to go overboard on the whole Proud Uncle-thing.)

Have a wonderful weekend, all of you, wherever you are...