Somebody please tell me this is a joke. Maybe this guy was being tongue-in-cheek and I am missing the subtle cues. If not, this is seriously one of the stupidest letters to the editor I've ever read in the Austin American Statesman:


"How insulting, how sad, the powers that be would have us take seriously a man running for president whose name is Barack HUSSEIN Obama.

I wonder how many well educated, well informed, above average Austinites are even aware of this tiny tidbit. Now that's weird.--HP BRADISH"

If he's for real, HP Bradish is a complete moron.

Man, how I love weather-related housebound days. Gray and cold outside, warm and cosy inside, snuggled up in a blanket on a sofa reading a great book or watching an old black and white movie about nuns running an orphanage, a pot of chili simmering on the stove. It just doesn't get much better for me.

Now, if I could only get my dagblamed children to play along. They need "something to do." They want to "go out and play." They're "bored." Damn them and their developmentally appropriate desire for mental and physical stimulation.

Honestly, these girls are gonna ruin my snow day. . .

Beckham signs with the Los Angeles Galaxy.

There are few sports headlines that grab my attention, but this did. I mentioned it to Davy, who is so good at seeing through these things. While I figured Beckham had lost his mind (or at least his magic touch), Davy sees things differently. It's a win-win, he says (well, he didn't actually say "win-win" but that's my interpretation). Beckham's no fool. His brand goes way up in value if he increases his recognition over here. He can't play forever, and the celebrity prospects in the U.S. are pretty high. Plus, where else would Whoever Spice (sorry, I can't remember--was she posh? was she sporty? was she the smart one?) rather be for her career than L.A.?

And what if it all has the side effect of raising soccer consiousness in the US? It's all good, right?

On a much more somber note, I just realized that today, 1/10/07, marks five years since Rachel Cooke disappeared while jogging in her neighborhood near Georgetown. Five years, and Robert still has no definitive answers about what happened to his daughter.

For one day back in November (I think) it looked the Cookes might finally know who was responsible for Rachel's disappearance and likely murder, but that all fell apart when Michael Moore unexpectedly plead not guilty at his hearing. There's still no public word as to what direction the investigation has taken now, but I hope someone is getting closer to the truth.

What the Cooke family has gone through over the past five years is simply unthinkable. Today I pray for Robert, Janet, and Joanne, and hope for the best possible future for all of them.

Hmmmmmm. I wonder what an ultra unhip 30-something minivan driving soccermom type with absolutely no connections would have to do to see one particular band at SXSW? A band that is technically not even scheduled to play, but who, according to my clever friend Jake, has clearly arranged their international touring schedule to be in Texas with a free week the same week as SXSW? (I mean, really, who goes from Houston, TX on 3/16 to Milan, Italy on 4/5?)

But I digress. My real question is how do regular people get into these things? Damn, I wish I had some strings to pull.

There are not many bands I would brave a busy club to see, especially during SXSW. But I'd give my left anything to see Scissor Sisters. . .

Plumbing update.

The plumber just left. He used a cool little camera device to inspect our pipes. His diagnosis: Nothing Is Wrong.

It feels very much like taking the car to the mechanic. But sir, it was SMOKING yesterday. How can nothing be wrong?????

Anyway, it seems that either the blockage resolved itself or it was actually the city sewer that stopped up and flowed back into our pipes. We'll never know. Unless it happens again. God forbid.

Here's the best part. He charged us. . .

Wait for it. . . .

Nothing.

The man inspected our pipes for an hour. Changed a flapper on the upstairs toilet.

And charged us $0.00.

That has never happened to me in my life. We've been using this plumber for a couple of years, and I can't speak highly enough of him. It's David at Plumb Good. If you ever need a plumber, I'll gladly pass his contact information along. Best. Plumber. Ever.

Happy New Year. And Happy Major Plumbing Expenses!

Thursday night the kitchen sink backed up for no apparent reason. Well, except for the absurd quantity of lettuce that I put through the disposal because it had been sitting in the refrigerator since Christmas. . . Davy was gone and I had to have a neighbor come help me. I had plunged the sink, but to no avail. It turns out you have to block air from entering the drain from the other side by filling it with water. Who knew? I don't have a master's degree in linguistics for nothin, baby!

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Davy and Mia are out, and Zoe and I are having a relaxing hour alone. I'm cleaning out the guest room closet in preparation for Jenny, our German friend who will be joining us later this month to spend a semester at Austin High School. But I digress. I walk into the laundry room to get something and realize my socks are wet. Crap, is the washing machine leaking? Nope. Laundry room is completely dry. Walk back out into the hall to realize the carpet is squishing. It is literally soaked with water!?! So I pivot to the right and look into the bathroom. Double crap! But really this time. The floor is covered in some kind of sludge. And so is the bathtub. What the hell? This must have happened in the last 5 minutes because the last time I walked through here, everything was fine.

Where ever the water came from (the floor under to toilet and the bathtub drain? there's no sign of nastiness on the actual toilet bowl, so I'm stymied), it has stopped. I get everything cleaned up and cautiously flush the toilet. Nothing out of the ordinary. I run the washing machine and the dishwasher (which were both running during the debacle), and again, nothing. Still, I leave a message with the plumber, set up fans to dry the carpet, and get on with my day.

Monday morning, Mia flushes the toilet upstairs and then yells that it is leaking. What the hell? She "may have used too much toilet paper." So this may or may not be related to the mess from yesterday. Call the plumber again. They're coming this afternoon. This can't be good!!!!