It's Been 2,920 Days

Well, Almost.

On May 25th, 2009 I will have been with the same lovely young lady for eight years, we will have been engaged for just over a year, and five months, to the day, from our wedding.

I'd love to say it has always been an idyllic courtship. I would love to say we have never fought, never quarreled, never said things we regret but that simply would not be true. We have had our spats, our breakups, some lasting for days, others months. We have both walked away at least once, yet we always seem to come back.

I love her.

I love the fact that her feet are freezing, every day, no matter what. I love her aversion to socks and shoes, and her preference for flip-flops and cargo shorts. I love her hair and the fact that it will never stay in a braid, or bun, but instead will fly around her face in little wisps. I love her walking around with her hair in a towel, and how the towel never seems to end up hung up once she's dried off. Ever. I love her cooking, all of it, even when it doesn't come out quite right. I love her love/hate affair with the bathroom scale. I love the fact that she did not even look at her engagement ring till after she said yes. I love the Hello Kitty bathroom decorations and the fact that if she could the entire apartment would be pink. I love her lips, especially when she pouts. I love her logic, even when it's flawed, and the fact that I can't win an argument against her no matter what I say, or if I'm right, and that it's better to not even start. I love the fact that I can't wait to get home to see her. I love everything, and anything, abut her.

Let's hope the next eight years are just as good as the last.

Seattle, It Raineth

The Missus and I spent a week in Seattle.

There is something wonderful about flying across the country, being in fear for your life as your female pilot on a twin engine regional hell wagon cuts off the tarmac at 45 degrees only to, roughly an hour and fifteen minutes later, slam back to earth with a bone jarring thud and then decelerate with such ferocity you find yourself staring at the bald spot of the man in the seat in front of you from a terribly uncomfortably close distance and what is the first thing you notice? There may be something in your teeth... but I digress.

We flew Rochester to Sea-Tac via Chicago. After the near death experience of our first flight we crawled out of our coffin, I mean airplane, and emerged into the weak morning light filtering through the glass ceiling of the O'Hare Airport. We were pulled down the length of the terminal by the promise of cinnamon and sugary release. Yes, there is a Cinnabon in O'Hare. Totally worth almost dying.

Our second flight was cramped, more then usual, and stuffy, hot, and long. What made matters worse was my complete and utter inability to sleep on either flight.

Anyway... on to Seattle.

The trip itself was fantastic. Our first few days in Seattle were spent up north near Marysville with The Missus's biological father. I don't have much to say about Marysville and I like it that way, it's quiet. The Missus's father lives in a trailer on a campground, surrounded by woods it was a great way to spend a few days, eat good, and generally relax.

We spend the next day and a half in Seattle proper, right off Pioneer square. We walked the city, spent some money, learned my card had been reported lost/stolen, and not by me, and generally had a great time.

I want to take a moment to tip my hat to King county legislators who decided to pass a law requiring all restaurants in King County to have their nutrition information available and clearly posted. It was a breath of fresh air to be able to eat out and not to have to guess about calories, sodium, and the nutritional value, or lack thereof, of my meal.

We journeyed next to the south of the city, Puyallup to be exact, go ahead say that ten times fast, I dare you. Anyway, we stayed with The Missus's maternal grandparents for Easter. Her grandmother is Japanese, with a Japanese/Southern accent that was one of the cutest things I have ever heard. Her Grandfather speaks softly with a southern drawl and would seem just at home on the veranda of a plantation house in Mississippi as in a recliner in Washington. I found them both to be wonderful people and I hope to spend ample time with them in the near future.

The Missus's aunts on the other hand.... One was tolerable, the other made me want to sodomize my ear canals with ten-penny nails. Her Uncle might have been a great guy however I saw no more then ten minutes of him the weekend due to the fact that he stayed in his room and played XBox 360.

After Grandmas we returned to Seattle proper and spent our last day in Seattle relaxing before trying to steal a few hours of sleep and returning home.

Fortunately I did not need to find God, or use the instructions printed on the safety card on either of the flights home.

All in all it was a fantastic trip and I am already looking forward to our next visit.

Cookie Monster Cupcakes!

A few weeks ago the Missus showed me this link.

It was to a blog post on how to make Cookie Monster Cookies.

So, I decided to try my hand at the recipe given that fact that the Missus was out of town last night and I thought it would be a nice surprise. Now, for a little background. Years ago I made a bet with the Missus, and my wager if I lost the bet was 100 cookie monster cookies from Mrs. Fields. I lost. Since that time I've been chipping away at my debt. Unfortunately Mrs. Fields no longer has cookie monster cookies. So I had to find another way to pay my debt.

Hence the cupcakes.

Also, the Missus has been having a rough time lately, unemployment is really getting to her and the stream of rejections and the stony silence is really wearing on her nerves. Anyway.... I made her cupcakes!

The fruits of my labor....



Now, What did I learn here?

1) Let the cupcake pan cool before removing the cupcakes.
2) More frosting, always buy more frosting.
3) Even if the cupcakes look ugly as sin (they did) frosting covers up the worst blemishes.
4) I am NOT a baker.

Anyway, it was fun and the look on her face totally made it worthwhile.

She Surprises Me Sometimes.

My Missus has been trying to get into the Rochester Police Department for some time now. Her and I have talked about plans, preparations, training, the usual discussions I'm sure any couple would have when one of the members wishes to do something different, and potentially dangerous. I support her, I figure if this is something she wants then I should support her in any way I can.

However, we had an interesting conversation, a surprising conversation the other day and I wonder how it will pan out. She started looking at guns. Whats more she started talking about guns, about learning to shoot as a way to get ahead in her academy training. She asked about martial arts, and expressed a desire to begin training. I honestly was shocked. She had always maintained a no guns, no way mentality and I had despaired in ever changing that view. Even her looking to join the police and carrying a gun did not seem to change her perspective. Now this. Her interest in martial arts is not anything new, she has watched many of my Judo classes, and had commented in the past that she might enjoy it. Yet she had never actually initiated a conversation on the subject. I will admit the thought of her training with me excites me more then the thought of her wanting to learn to shoot. I enjoy Judo, and it's something I want her to enjoy with me.

I thought I had her all figured out, yet she manages to surprise me yet again. It's a good feeling. Let's see if it pans out.

Good Luck to the Missus!

My Missus has an interview today. It's for Petco down the road and I wish her luck. She took the Rochester City Police Exam a few months back and were still waiting on the results so this job, if she gets it, is really just a place holder for the short term but it's a good place holder. Aside from the fact that she loves working with animals Petco offers health benefits to part time employees which is a huge plus.

On top of all this she has also really gotten into working out, she needs tom pass certain physical fitness requirements for the RPD, one of which is a mile and a half run. While it doesn't seem like much running for any distance just sucks for people like the missus and myself. Were just not built for it but she has gone out, and dragged me along, day after day to run or walk or lift and just in general get into shape. I'm proud of her, even if she does insure that I end up sore and achy every night.

Were going to get into shape even if it kills us!

Martial Decisions

I've tried writing this post a few times and it never seems to come out well. This is a sentiment, a topic, that has come to me based on a few bad decisions and years of being dissatisfied and not knowing why.

I always wanted to be a martial artist. I always knew I was not an athlete. I've always been heavy, I've always been a little slow on my feet, and I've had bad joints for as long as I can remember.

I always believed that an athlete was not a martial artist, that there was somehow this divide between the two. I's seen it referred to as the Ring v. Street debate and in a large way that was the issue in my mind. I was unwilling to believe that what I was practicing, the martial art I was practicing, was less martial and more art, then I would like to believe. I refused to make the correlation between physical conditioning and hard sparring and martial applicability. I was stuck in a street mentality. I did not have to spar, did not have to compete because my art did not have rules, I refused to limit myself to what could be used in a ring and therefore my art was better, in spite of the lack of sparring and conditioning.

Then something shifted, I began to really think about what I was practicing, I began to really think about my training and most importantly I began to try and use my training and I kept coming back to one conclusion. What I was doing simply did not work. I wanted to be a fighter, and in order to be a fighter I had to stop thinking like a martial artists and start thinking like an athlete.

So the pendulum swung the other way. I enrolled first in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu then in Judo. I began to look to compete, I began to run and lift weights outside of class to improve my performance in class. I stopped thinking of myself as a martial artist and began to think of myself as an athlete.

However I have found out one interesting truth. It's a truth that should have been self evident and it was brought to light by a comment the Missus made. Her younger sister began to take Aikido, an art that I have little respect for for many reasons none of which are important at this time. She said that I "talked crap about any art I didn't practice" and this made me pause. She is partially right and it was something that I had partially realized years earlier but had not internalized. That truth is this: Not everyone is me. It seems crazy but it was really a tough pill to swallow. I look at Aikido, most Kung Fu, most Karate, most Tae Kwon Do and I see arts that are a waste. I see people training in styles that have no sparring, no conditioning and minimal applicability to a combative situation. When I first made the transition from a martial art to a combat sport I thought it was the most logical of transitions and wondered why everyone didn't have the same epiphany I had just had. Then once the Missus made her comment it clicked. Everyone isn't me. Most people don't want to sweat, want to fall, want to get hurt, want to get hit and thrown and bruised and come back for more. Most people don't wake up in the middle of the night thinking about competing. It's a sad truth, but it's the truth. So now when I hear about the Missus sister's Aikido I simply smile and remind myself that I have years to show her the error of her ways when she's just a little bit older.

Until then I'm going to keep competing and training and hoping that all the people I see streaming out of the Karate dojos never need to use what they feel they are learning.

So Then She Said....

Me: You know, as of today I'm worth more to you dead then alive.
Missus: Why's that?
Me: Because I have a $100,000 life insurance policy. But you can't kill me for another thirty days.
Missus: Your worth more to me alive then dead right now.
Me: Why's that?
Missus: Because right now you're a continual source of income, so when you're six months from retirement, that's when I'd kill you off.

I love my Missus!