Memo from the NW

So everyone knows, I will only be applying for jobs in Iowa, Nebraska, Oklahoma, North and South Dakota. That is of course, if an opportunity in Illinois doesn't open up.

On the Bright Side...

So...maybe the NW won't take us back because I cheered for the Buckeyes. On the other hand, at least I can say I got to cheer for a winning team. :) :) :)

Unfortunate News . . .

P, has decided to cheer for the Buckeyes this afternoon. The consequences of her decision are either 1) we will never leave the midwest because the NW will never take us back for her betrayal, or 2) we are indefinitely separated until she apologizes profusely for this transgression.

Bow Down to Washington!!!!

As I type this post, I am sporting a heather grey hooded sweatshirt with a purple and gold "W" on the front; the "W," of course, stands for the University of Washington. Today, the Husky football team is 2-0 and preparing for a late afternoon tussle with the Ohio State Univesity.

Words cannot describe how excited I am for this game. While watching it on our television here in the Midwest, I will be looking for the seats on the second deck that my dad and I spent so many afternoons in while I was growing up. I will feel the chills up my back when I hear the announcer welcome the "dawg fans" to Husky Stadium (I am there in spirit!!!). I will scream *literally* when the team hoists their gold helmets up in their air at the opening kickoff. I will hold a cookie in my hand and pretend that it is a "cow-chip cookie" - if you don't know, you can't know. I will call my dad after every score so that it feels as though even though we are thirteen hours and five states apart, we are still doing something that we have always done, and that has been truly foundational to our relationship. I will sing "Bow Down to Washington" during halftime even though I only know the words "Bow Down to Washington" "Mighty are the Men, Who Wear the Purple and the Gold" "Heaven Help the foes of Washington" and "Ra-Ra-Ra."

Some people say that sports are trivial, but maybe that is because they don't get it. I love Husky football because I love my dad who loves Husky football. I love the memories, and I hold fast to each one, from age 6 to age 26. I can close my eyes and see the walk from the parkade, down through campus, past the peanut vendors, through the purple gates, and down the corridor. I can feel my dad sitting next to me, and I can hear him scream, and can see him clap. I look past the scoreboard and see the Sound, the mountains, and my home. I remember all of these things and miss him, bad. I want to make the drive home and talk about all of the plays, the Don James era, the two Rose Bowls we attended, and the time we brought Dave Steele who yacked in his frontyard as we dropped him off.

Below is a picture of Husky stadium.
Don't talk to me for a week if they don't win.

The things you do for love

This past Saturday, P had a test up on the Southside of Chicago so that she could continue teaching ESL until we leave this flatland. It was my duty, of course, to escort her up to this test and sit patiently whilst she complete it.

The morning of . . .
K: how long will it take?
P: well, there's 55 questions, an essay, and a 2 minute interview. The last part should be the shortest.
K: Thanks, where am I going to be during your test?
P: Find a Starbucks.
K: I don't like coffee. How will I know when you are done if I have the cell phone and am off site, so to speak.
P: Guess you can't go to Starbucks.
K: you want me to sit in the car. . .
P: yes [sheepishly].
K: have fun.
P: nooooo, you promised.
K: let me get this straight, you want me to lose four hours of worktime driving you to and from this test, and then you want me to lose however long your test takes because you want me to sit in a hot car in a Southside Chicago school parking lot?
P: well, I guess you don't have to. . . .
K: yeah right, I know what that means (I am not getting a PhD for nothing)
P: it won't be that bad, we'll get a really good dinner afterwards.
K: wow, that's an incentive.

So, I go. I sit, and sit and sit.

To be fair, the school was nice, and I sat at a park bench outside of it during a relatively cool day. And then . . . Three hours in, I am minding my own business, reading a book, and a bee from hell flies next to me and stings me just underneath my left armpit. To my knowledge, I am not allegeric to bees, so I keep it cool, "man it up" if you will, but two days later, that dang bee-sting is itching like there's no tomorrow. We got some stuff for it, but it literally kept me up for a good portion of the night. It's itching right now, probably will itch all day.

At least I got a good dinner.

Ask and you shall receive

The Kittay asked for some more pics of Bruchi, and since others have made similar requests, and since I am accomodating, I have posted them for you below. The blurry one is Bruchi howling.