DONOVAN FOR PRESIDENT!!!!!!

FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!

i like the raindrops

ok so here goes everybody

i have done nothing but be a mom for so long i don't even know myself these days

but lately the pace is slowing down, either that or i've really lost more then my sense of normalcy

in any case, my kiddoes are growing, Paola has taken to independence like a toddler's finger to a nostril and Adolfo continues to develop into a growing, glowing example of genius (translate, quirky, but charmingly so and using lots of electronic intestines)
i am proud of my children
so life goes on at the Chavez household.
Just two short weeks after Adolfo's piano recital
Paola starred at her ballet recital

She performed two dances with her group and two dances with her parents. She was selected as the leader of her group and performed flawlessly and fearlessly. The two dances were, Singing Poodle and Kewpie Doll
I'm glad to report that she prefers NOT to wear makeup.
Adolfo has joined the YMCA swim team and is now busy flirting with the female lifeguards and inventing new swim strokes much to his coach's dismay. But he dutifully performs as expected during meets and is thankfully not abashed at coming in last.
Paola is also taking swimming lessons and insists that she could swim on her own. Of course, I'm terrified and hover around her like a crazed octopus ready to grab at any sign of distress. She laughs it off as she does most things. Yes, this little girl is going to teach me a thing or two.
As the kids are growing, Killy and I are readying for change. I guess this means we are finally comfortable with the way things are, and as you all know, Killy and I thrive on stress, so we just need to make things a little more complicated.
Killy is going back to school to study Biomedical Engineering. I don't know how that's going to work itself into our lives, but I do know that it will and we will be happier for it because King Killy will be happier. :-)
I like my job in that the hours allow me time with my children. But I know that soon, Paola being old enough for public school means I have an opportunity to think about my career as something that can be emotionally rewarding for me. Hmmm, the possibilities are endless...

so what's new with you?

Dissertation

Done.

lone US soccer fan

http://www.theonion.com/articles/nations-soccer-fan-becoming-insufferable,17553/

So, that happened

I had run out to the truck to make sure the windows were up. The sky had greyed, the wind had picked up and it looked likely to rain. Walking back around the building, thinking about the silly-ass comment system i was building and the most recent javascript error, i noticed that traffic was especially thick on Guadalupe.

Then there was a greyish-giant-ham-sized blur emanating from a vaguely dark-blue north-bound SUV shaped blur, a fleshy thump, a squealing of brakes, and the appearance of a grey-and-white-pit-bull-type dog in the street.

We'll call him Spike.

Spike had no idea what the hell had just happened.

Unsure of everything, he sort of rocked in place. He reminded me of the reaction of my niece had when the other little girl (3-4 yo, cute little blond) tried, repeatedly and unceasingly, to get the eye-boogers out of her (my niece's) eye. She (once again, my niece) was freaked, but had zero idea how to handle it.

Being the brave, daring guy that i am (while hoping like hell that Spike would not freak out and kill me) i whistled(ish), and said dumb things like "C'mere, puppy. It's OK. C'mon, pup!", possibly whistled(ish) again and clapped my hands on my thighs while trying to keep myself from shaking too visibly. Dogs can sense that shit. They'll fucking eat you.

Spike trotted over and seemed for all the world like an adorable, confused, short-haired (killing machine) as i snatched up his trailing leash. I spouted more dog-friendly platitudes: "Who's a good boy, then?", "Wow, are those your real teeth?", and tried to calm both of us down.

Spike did a better job than me at calming down.

Then shit got real wacky.

I am unclear how things really happened; traffic stayed snarled; some things must have moved, some things must not have. I was petting Spike, hoping he did not tear my throat out (he was a actually a calm and good-looking puppy) while looking out for the dark-blue SUV-shaped blur when i heard the *crunch*.

A blue and white motorcycle (Suzuki?) had run into the back of a stopped VW Beetle (one of the newer ones, you know, the one with flatter curves around the quarter panels and done in the nice red, not the tomato one). Later, it turned out that the Beetle was driven by a short, seemingly disinterested, blonde girl.

The bike had two occupants: the rider, all helmeted and race-bike jacketed, and the passenger, all flip-flopped, t-shirted, beshorted and rolling in the street, flopping to an erratic stop while moaning, yelling.

Being the self-centered guy that i am i thought, "i bet i looked a lot like that hitting the ground when i broke my clavicle. Good thing i can't run as fast as that bike". He was clearly injured, but traffic obscured my view. Nextly; the more-clearly-defined dark blue, south-bound (Chevy) SUV hove into view, windows rolled down, in the turn lane, driver haranguing those *in his way*, feet away from and completely oblivious to passenger-boy's plight.

Chevy made a bad left onto 42nd (east-bound) and yelled at me from the window that he would 'be right back' as he drove past. Meanwhile, i was on the phone with 911, holding onto Spike, who was either excited to see his master, or scared as hell to do the same thing. Not sure. Seems like a good thing to beat myself up over.

Traffic has stopped, passenger is screaming, Chevy is yelling at anydamnthing and approaching; Spike is freaking out, tugging at the leash and 911 has put me on hold.

"Are you with the victim?"

"Bitch pushed the dog out the truck!"

"South or North bound?"

"Stupid bitch."

Chevy was shorter than me, muscle-bound and Affliction-tank-topped as he took the leash and took Spike back to the Chevy blur. He said words at me, but i was trying to listen to dispatch.

"OK, an ambulance has been dispatched. Others are on the scene. Please disconnect now."

I do not think i should have given Spike back.

Passenger-boy was silent, Traffic stopped. Oglers ogled and a mother-and-infant was speaking to 911. I urged her to take her child out of the situation after some small talk, peek-a-boo, and checking that she was OK and uninvolved. She seemed mostly interested in death. The kid was cute though.

Everydamnbody showed up: Police, FD, EMS; the whole nine. Situation handled. Spike returned.

I went back to the office, had some cheese and crackers and did the crossword. Well, not really. It was a kinda tough Wednesday.

I hope Spike is OK. He's the only one who had no choice in his situation. Him and the kid, who is most likely fine despite his death-obsessed mom.

Again with my hat

IMG_0488
Originally uploaded by tcserpa

I warned you.

I said it would happen.

Did you believe me? Did you heed my words, my dire, ominous warnings?

No.

You have no one to blame but yourself for the appalling adorability of my nephew wearing my kinda funky hat.

My Hat.

IMG_0487
Originally uploaded by tcserpa

So, we were hiding. In the back seat. Behind a silver car-shade. Car-shade-hiding (and the subsequent loud whispering) is an occasionally effective strategy for the ride home after (for example) Uncle Todd has been made to sit through a cinema experience of the Shrek variety, and must endure being crammed between two car seats in the back seat of a Ford Explorer. The Niece decided that my hat could be seen, so it was subsequently discarded. And left behind when I went back to Austin.

Sometime after that she re-discovered it. Seen here is my adorable niece holding my (probably funky) hat hostage. A picture of the boy wearing the aforementioned head-gear is doubtlessly in the offing.