Touch You Last

Most of the time, Sarah hasn't really been crazy hormonal during this pregnancy. There have only been about three days where she's been wacky, and I'll tell you about one of them. It was early on, three months in, and as soon as I walked in the door from work she said, "I have to warn you, I'm feeling really emotional right now." She was also extremely hungry. It was first trimester, and hunger often turned to nausea really quickly . So we threw together the quickest meal we do—bean burritos—and we dug in. We were talking about something . I honestly can't remember the topic, but I do remember that it wasn't especially contentious or frought with emotion, but that it had Sarah in tears thirty seconds in. Usually when she's upset, I'll console her, tell her it's okay, but this was just so... odd... I had to sit back and watch. Because she was really upset, but she was also really hungry . Which resulted in her crying and eating a...

I’m shutting that bad boy down as of today. Why? Because I don’t really use it anymore. Because I moved to Gmail long, long ago. And because the only people that this e-mail applies to are the Window’s Live Hotmail Team, and a collection of fancifully named people who are all interested in increasing the size of my organ. In semi-related news: as I logged on to Hotmail today for the first time in at least six months, I flashed back to the time I helped Blaine set up his first e-mail address, which happened to be on Hotmail. That address, in case you’re curious, was tugonmynuts@hotmail.com. That is all.

Apparently Facebook knows that I'm thirty-two. And it suspects (perhaps rightly so) that I'm overweight. Evidence? you suggest. Sure: This is was on my sidebar when I logged on just now. The thing about this ad (other than the fact that ultra (or extreme, or über , or especially) green tea probably won't make me this freakishly ripped) is that someone, somewhere saw a similar ad and said, " Yessir , that there seems like a good investment!" Someone had to believe it... and then buy it -- the result being that UltraGreenTea's Marketing Department got all chubbed out and ad crazy. This is probably the same guy who answered the first Viagra spam. Yes, this is my theory: it's one guy. For every instance where we say, "And then some guy ruined it , " ninety-five percent of the time, it's the same guy . This is the guy who answered the first Nigerian money scam, the guy who fell for the first pyramid scheme, the guy who first invited Jehova...

A few months ago, we started to buy Christie Thin Crisps—which are basically wafer-sized version of your favourite delicious cookies. We buy boxes with a mix of Oreo and Chips Ahoy! (That’s the product name. Don’t give me any shit for unnecessarily exclaiming.) Just now, over lunch, my attention was almost wholly on my computer screen, with maybe five percent of it given over to the task of opening and eating my package of Thin Crisps. I was expecting Oreos for some reason, but as I raised the first one to my mouth, out of the corner of my eye I could see that it was clearly not an Oreo. For that space of a second, I thought, “I’m not sure what this is?!?” But before I actually identified it (as just a Chips Ahoy!), I’d already stuffed it in my mouth and started to chew. Does that strike anyone else as totally messed up? You’d think my need to identify what I was about to eat would outweigh my need to indiscriminately eat whatever it was I was holding. You’d think.

... that two people were instrumental in my joining Twitter. First, Isha . She sent out an article on it when the application was still brand new. (And I remember thinking, "Screw that noise. Like I need more online commitments.) Second was Rebecca . She joined up just a short while ago, claiming she hadn't met a bandwidth she didn't like . (And then she disappeared entirely from the internets .) It looked nice and pretty over there on her sidebar, and then I got a little jealous. The rest: history. And for those unobservant among you ( Jorge ), the Twitter feed is right there on my sidebar, replacing the old Radio 3 player that I loved, but that I think scared the bejezus out of a lot of people. Also, everyone should join Twitter. I'm needing some diversions , people.

You know and I know that I've got no business signing up for any additional blog-y, social network-y, Hey-look-at-me! type web applications, but screw you guys because I've done it anyways . I really resisted Twitter when it first came out because it just seemed like blogging lite, but I've since seen it used well by a few people and was inspired to jump on board. I've found the prospect of writing big weighty entries a bit fatiguing lately, so the ability to dash off just a quick sentence or two is looking pretty sexy to me. At least for the next short while, expect my online efforts to be spent thusly: Twitter - 65%, Blogger - 34.5%, Facebook - 0.5%. Sorry, Facebook--it's not me, it's you.

The power source on our computer died Campaigning for a seventh season of According to Jim took up all my time Convincing a septuagenarian, Italian packrat to throw out fifty years of garage sale finds harder than imagined Attempted bicycle kick during last OSSC soccer game ended in disaster Fingers too fat for keyboard Drunk as a lord pretty much full time Let go of Sarah’s hand in a crowded street and got lost for a week Botched circumcision left me bedridden So very lazy

Our computer is on the fritz. One morning, the warm glowing warming glow of the power button failed us, providing not the power it had so oft advertised. The guy on the Dell helpline was pretty patient in walking me through the dismantling of the computer so I could rip things out a piece at a time, until we determined it was definitely the power source. He could not, however, figure out how to spell my last name. “McCabe? McGlavin?” Even when I started to spell it out he couldn't help but keep guessing. “ M… c… L…” “McLube? It’s McLube, isn’t it?” A new power source is on our way courtesy of eBay, but until then we’ll be rocking my laptop. I’ll be leaving the house a lot less and getting a lot less exercise. This is not because I’m ill or lazy (well, a little because I’m lazy). We just got The Movie Network. (For my American peeps, that’s like Canadian HBO). My movie watching street cred is about to skyrocket. I’ll actually start seeing movies less than thirty years after they we...

From our family, to yours.

To make up for a lack of action around these parts, I offer the first of many micro-posts that will appear tonight. Have we all listened to Do They Know It's Christmas lately? I mean listened to the words? I'd always thought "Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears" was far and away the most overwrought, song-spoiling line in the song, but only just the other day, I heard what followed: "And the only bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of DOOM! " Who fucking wrote that bit? Sting? I blame Sting.

Sarah has long affirmed that we will never get a dog. That was until we walked by a pet store while grocery shopping and saw one of these: That, my friends, is a puggle . The one in the pet store must have been six weeks old, and about the size my shoe. So. Very. Cute. Don't get excited, we're still never going to get a dog, but Sarah entertained the idea for at least twelve seconds. Word to puggle owners: Sarah is willing to rent one for upwards of $90 an hour.

Does anyone else feel like there’s a Journey renaissance going on right now? I can’t remember a day in the last two weeks where I haven’t heard either “Any Way You Want It,” “Wheel in the Sky,” “Only the Lonely,” Don't Stop Believin',” or “Oh Sherry” (and yeah, nitpickers, I know that last one’s just Steve Perry, but whatever). Every day. And if I’m not hearing it, I’m reading about it . It’s not omnipresent—it’s not like when you hear four Duran Duran songs on the radio in quick succession and automatically conclude that Simon Lebon has died—it’s just constant. I have mostly my iPod to blame. I’ve been obsessed with trying to fill its near-limitless capacity, throwing—among other things—Journey’s Greatest Hits on there (which is more Sarah’s than mine). Since then, the Random button doesn’t seem all that random. I think whoever wrote the algorithm for that is probably the biggest fucking Journey fan in the world. There’s probably four other random bands that ...

I should have something about Bermuda up by now, but we just had the greatest lazy weekend that I remember having in ages. I left the apartment only once—to run an hour’s worth of errands—and I don’t think Sarah has even looked out the window since Friday at five. Don’t be afraid: we’re not stacking mason jars of our urine or growing two foot beards Howard Hughes style, we just luxuriated in doing nothing. I had all the time in the world to write about our trip, but that would have conflicted with my set-in-stone plans of relaxing, broken up by the occasional bout of chillaxing. Sarah read about nine books and watched only a moderate amount of Veronica Mars (she’s on a campaign to get the whole world to watch it, so if she hasn’t knocked on your door yet, she will, and soon). I reread The Catcher in the Rye for the first time since high school, and watched Belle de Jour , Midnight Express , and The Aristocrats . I also had The Third Man, that Metallica documentary, and...

I really wish I had discipline when it came to this whole blogging thing. Audience aside, I need some kind of journal because I forget shit pretty much as it happens. I've looked back at my archives once or twice and thought, "Oh yeah. I went to Vancouver that time. How crazy is that?" Some weeks go by without a noteworthy thing happening, but others... well, they aren't life-altering, but you just start cataloguing the things you need to write about, and they keep piling up, and the weight of it just keeps you away longer. Whatever. Enough poor me . Here are a few things that have been going on over the past few weeks. More to come as I remember it: The McLean reunion took place in Formosa three weeks back. It was a vicious affair, with old feuds renewed, cousin battling cousin, and few of us leaving unbloodied. Actually, we just drank a lot, ate a lot, and had a good time. The 2007 Reunion is going back to Georgetown, and Bejing won the bid for 2008. Sar...

And now, a shout-out to our friend Leanne; a shout-out that is totally out of the blue , by the way. The picture I really wanted to post--the one that involves chess and booze and noses--is nowhere to be found on my hard drive. Leanne, if you happen to have that one tucked away somewhere, please send it so I can post that as well. This one is just after Sarah had moved back from University, and Leanne graced our little Georgetown with a visit. Also: this is the only time two girls were ever in my room at the same time when one of them wasn't my mom. Here's a shot from Sarah's bachelorette party in Vancouver. Rumour has it that Leanne was smacking asses with that wand throughout the night. You can also see half of Swill's face, partly obscured by Beth's mighty forearm. Speaking of Beth and Vancouver, we failed to post any shots of our last trip here, so I'll make up for that now. We're at the Canucks game here, and this was when our spirits were still high (b...

Yesterday--clearly--I had nothing. Today: looking just as grim. But rather than break my pledge, I'll just chuck a few pictures up. They have nothing in common, other than the fact that they amuse me. Me and Blaine, back in The Great War. We were dishonorably discharged right after this was taken. It's so rare for these two to get along that when they have the odd moment--grooming each other or spooning--we go a bit camera nuts. SportsWorld Park in Kitchener with KC and Swill. Speaks for itself, I think. My niece, Rachael. I have no idea why we took these pictures, but I'm pretty sure we weren't actually that bored. The single best photo my parents have ever taken.

Courtney (not to be confused with Courtney-O (yeah, we’re gonna need nicknames if this continues)) recently asked me about Windsor . I have no idea where this comment is (I got the comment in my hotmail but can't find here to save my life), so I’ll just address the question in a new post. Any folks familiar with the place, feel free to help out. I haven’t lived there since 2000, so my knowledge is a bit dated. I’m just going to go ahead and pretend that time has stood still since my departure. Where to live – East of the bridge: good. West of the bridge: bad. We lived west of the bridge in fourth year and highlights included a triple homicide down the road and the dude who came up to us during a midnight walk home and asked if we had any crack cocaine. School Spirit – There is none. I’m not a school spirit kind of guy, so I could not have cared less. But if that’s something important to you, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Bars – The campus pub is terrible. Just off ca...

Sarah: Baby, here’s your gitch. Dave: Wicked. I love underwear! It keeps my junk from touching my nice pants.