Cancelación de la Boda

So, the wedding is postponed due to an anticipated scabies outbreak in Houston this summer. For reals. I know I contacted a number of people requesting address information and such so I wanted to use this highly reliable method of disseminating information to spread the word that I do not in fact hate you just because an invitation is not forthcoming. Blah. We haven't set a new date yet but barring some sort of city wide chigger infestation we're tentatively figuring on early next summer. Sorry Mothball, this is merely a postponement, so you neither get the $1000 nor the opportunity to kick me full on squa in the nuts as per our May 2006 Hooters agreement.

Dew

I think I am off the Dew. I have been weaning myself slowly but surely from a quantity of 2-3 20oz bottles and 4-5 cans per day to a single can just yesterday, and having miraculously woken up without a crushing, soul-rending headache this morning I think I may have successfully escaped the clutches of caffeine addiction. I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I downed half a can on the way to work this morning just to be safe--conveniently the last one in my fridge--and am looking forward to a new pain free life filled with Sprite and IBC Root Beer. In related news, I have also recently stopped drinking beer, and plan to buy a small but nimble yacht with the combined savings. I will name it The Abe Lincoln, not after the real Abraham Lincoln, nor the rather disturbing sex practice sharing his name, but the teenage clone of Abe Lincoln featured on the 2002 Canadian cartoon series Clone High, and his outrageous adventures.

Ouch

Ahhhhhh, due to circumstances beyond my control, the past 4 days or so have been unbelievably horrible. No sleep, severe dehydration, inability to eat, and some guy kept running up and kicking me in the balls. Also I appear to have a slow leak in my rear right tire.

But that's all changing! I woke up this morning refreshed, hungry, actually having to pee, and have triumphantly returned to work where I promptly began catching up on The Onion AVClub. Hot Fuzz is supposed to be pretty good. I hear Surf Ninjas is supposed to be pretty good too.

It's Official

We're moving out. Some girls are subleasing from us for the summer so we're moving to more distant but much swankier lodgings. I guess this kind of shatters my Extreme Convenience argument for moving in with Lizett pre-marriage, but too late now, suckers! So I guess I won't be able to walk to work any more, which sucks, but on the plus side I no longer need to fear death from the mold slowly eating through my bathroom ceiling nor whatever small woodland creature is slowly chewing through the insulation. Instead we're going to replace these threats with a small domesticated creature slowly eating through all our food stores, furniture, and possessions--we're getting a puppy! Well, probably a dog. The place we're moving is pet friendly (which is in fact the entire reason we're moving in the first place), but they're not so big on dogs under 6 months, and despite our ridiculously flexible schedules I don't think we'd be home quite enough to accommodate a real hyperactive-peeing-everywhere-constantly-needing-attention puppy. Other perks include:

1) Full size washer dryer--I have taken this for granted my whole life and have only recently discovered the enormous inconvenience of having to do all your laundry at once, in another location, at the cost of dozens upon dozens of quarters.

2) Balcony--this is where steaks are made.

3) Study--currently we only have a living room and a bedroom, so when Lizett wants to get some work done things can feel a little crowded.

4) A kitchen that isn't small and awful.

5) Pool, fitness center, all the amenities of a complex not built in the 1800s directly across from campus.

6) Etc.

Session 2 of Pre-Cana tonight!

And a retroactive Happy Birthday to Mothball is in effect for 4/18/2007.

Also--today it's officially less than 4 months until I'm married! Lizett noted this fact yesterday and made a noise that sounded like "EeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEE!"

Shin Splints II

I went for a short jog on Thursday and appear to still be injured. I'm not big, but I'm large--big hands, big feet, and barring family reunions I'm generally the tallest guy in the room. I also seem to be finally and at long last developing the coveted Schreiber Buddha, a glorious expanse of belly which adds a substantial amount of mass to my frame in what can only be described as the least impressive way possible. The point is, I'm svelte, but it's a large expanse of svelte that adds up to a non-trivial amount of weight for my little bird legs to support, and as such I seem to be extremely susceptible to shin splints. I always get them when I start running, but it's pretty bad this time because I'm stupid and went for my first run in months on a hilly concrete covered campus. I was actually feeling better, but I miraculously seem to have aggravated things on a leisurely walk around a level dirt path with Lizett at Zilker Park yesterday. Which is nice. There were lots of dogs, and we saw some chick get in a brawl with a swan. I like bacon.

Unexpected Visit

We randomly hung out with dheinsch this weekend. A text came in for Lizett from "Dave" which of course confused and bewildered her--she should have him labeled "dheinsch" as I do.

Dave: are you in austin?
Lizett: yeah, me and mal
Dave: me too

And that was it for a while. I thought perhaps that was the last we would hear from dheinsch, which wouldn't be at all out of the ordinary, but eventually he gave us a ring and it was decided we would meet for dinner and a show at Esther's Follies. Esther's Follies is pretty awesome. It's hard to explain their show but it's a series of skits set to wacky music lampooning recent political and pop culture developments. Also there's magic. Anyway, at one point in the show, they asked for a volunteer and dheinsch's girlfriend generously raised his hand for him.

It is worth noting that if Lizett had raised my arm for me in such a situation, I would've immediately torn it off with my other hand and beat her to death with it. Over the top? Yes, but still preferable to being volunteered to go up on stage. I am somewhat of a conundrum that way, it seems. Everyone who reads this is aware that I am not only perfectly willing but often eager to make an enormous ass out of myself in large groups, but it seems to only apply to informal situations. I'm perfectly willing to, say, sheepishly convince a group of 20 or so that I am improperly dressed because I was playing with matches that morning and accidentally caught my pants on fire, but there's no way you could get me out onto a dance floor. I'm perfectly willing to bend over 10 or 15 times while various women publicly judge whether or not I have an ass (finally tally, 15-0 for WOW) but there's no way I'd get up on stage in front of those very same folks. I don't get it either. Just don't raise my hand.

Anyway, the bit was that there were two ostensibly hot women on stage looking for a volunteer to make out with them both for a movie shoot, but then when the volunteer goes up the women are replaced by two scantily clad male stunt doubles. It's a pretty funny bit, and no doubt under normal circumstances the volunteer goes into cardiac arrest from embarrassment and general discomfort, but by God I think dheinsch was the least uncomfortable person on that stage. Fondling the fake breasts, that was impressive my friend, but when you started in on their inner thighs--that is commitment to the bit. Also it brought back frightening college memories of just how far you are willing to take a gay joke. Let's move on.

So it was a pretty good night. We hung out with the cast for a few minutes after the show to tell them good job and all that jazz, and to my consternation they all immediately lit up. I'm sure that doesn't seem unusual to most, but Austin is a smoke free city and I was getting quite used to the fresh air. Anyway, not that big a deal, after all they work there and the show was over and they certainly have the right to die in the manner they choose, and if I don't like it I'm welcome to leave, which I did in short order--but what annoyed me was that one of the cast members had her 10 year old son there. When you and your 10 friends light up in a clearly designated smoke free area right by a 10 year old kid who has nowhere to go, I can see no reason you shouldn't be charged with child endangerment, attempted murder, grand theft auto, selling team paraphernalia without a permit, tax evasion, shoplifting, and high treason.

After the show dheinsch hit 6th street and partied like a rock star and Lizett and I went home and went to bed. It was 11:30. BONG.

Digital! Noventa y Dos Punto Cinco! Digital, Digital, Digitaaaaaaaal! Noventa y Dos Punto Cinco!

We were at happy hour on Thursday with some of Lizett's immigration clinic buddies, and this guy from the kitchen brings our food to us doing that weird strong guy walk where you move really slow and arch your back to puff your man-boobies as far out in front of you as you can and kind of hold your arms out away from your body as if to say "My God, my biceps are so large that they actually prevent my arms from hanging normally at my sides!" A real badass. The important part of the story is that as he walked off, he was laughed at by all.

Another time as we were walking to a tailgate we saw a ridiculously muscular guy doing an even more ridiculous strong guy walk, and after we passed we simply couldn't contain ourselves and burst into audible laughter. I know the guy could hear us but I don't imagine it affected him because you could tell from that walk that he knew--knew--that he was extremely awesome and doing that walk made him EVEN AWESOMER.

I'm not insulting big muscley fellows, mostly because I don't want to get my ass kicked. Also because I am genuinely jealous. I spent over a year gyming it up five days a week in an attempt to become a slightly muscley fellow and failed miserably. But here's the thing, my musclebound friends: when you do that ludicrous walk, no one is intimidated or impressed--as they rightly should be--with the body you've obviously put an enormous amount of work into. They are in fact all thinking, in perfect sync, "Haha, look at that funny walk! What an asshole." I know it hurts, fellows, but I would not lie to you about this. Take it from a man who has been forced by circumstance to make his way vainly attempting to be the Funny Guy--you have a gift. Don't waste it by walking like a douche.

No I Will Not Have A Threesome With You, Jesus

Well, my life is finally complete. I was walking through Jester this morning, a kind of mini student union I cut through on the way to work to soak up a couple minutes of precious air conditioning, and there was totally a guy break dancing in there. It's the first time in my life I've actually seen, in person, the move where the guy spins around on his head. That move amazes me, largely because I could never pull it off due to an oblong cone head resulting from a quintiple-dog-dare to "just bomb the shit out of that mogul"--roast in hell, Jesse Levine--but also because that has got to HURT. That's commitment to his art right there. His stupid, stupid art.

Last night was our first Pre-Cana session, a required Catholic marriage preparation course devised by a bunch of celibate old single men. Clearly I have not been looking forward to it, though I am kind of excited about the lecture on natural family planning just for the hilarity factor. Last night we took the ol' compatibility test, a 200 question ordeal raising such issues as "I consider sexual intercourse a way to experience God's love: agree, disagree, or undecided" and "I am comfortable expressing fears about what my future spouse may expect of me sexually" to which I put a BIG agree because you'd better believe I expressed some concerns over that harness system in the closet Lizett claims is a "ceiling-suspended lounge chair". There were also a couple of Sneaky Traps like "I believe our marriage will be free of conflict and disagreement as long as our love remains strong" so if ignorant buffoons fill in "agree" they can give a nice lecture about the Hard Times that are sure to crop up. Pretty clever, Catholic Church! So anyway, we're pretty much destined to come back completely incompatible, because Lizett surely filled in "agree" for all the ones about getting it on with God and I of course filled in "disagree" dark enough to cut through the paper. Fortunately I don't think you actually have to pass Pre-Cana to get married in the Church, you just have to take it, so a couple more sessions and I think we're golden.

Extra Buttery

I bought this Plugra butter to make Fettucini Alfredo for Lizett Friday night. It's higher in butterfat than regular butter so you don't have to add cream to make the sauce saucy, or some such. I don't know, the recipe said Plugra. The point is, I figured--butterier butter? I can't lose! So I bought some extra, and today when I went home for lunch I decided to test it out in some Mac&Cheese.

I've made a huge mistake. It was--by a wide margin--the butteriest thing I have ever tasted, and I once ate a big tub of Country Crock. Not, mmmmm-oh-it's-so-buttery-and-delicious buttery--not even close. I wanted to vomit then and I want to vomit now. Have you ever burped and tasted butter? God, I feel like it's seeping into my pores. I need one of those tongue scrapers or something. Oh God. Oh my God.