Vacation is over and even though Walloon might be the bestest place ever, I'm glad I'm home.
Pictures soon, some are already up on FB and Amy FB.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
VACATION, ALL I EVER WANTED?
Me, Sam and Amy are headed up north for a few days of relaxation on a lake. I'm excited, but for perhaps the first time in my adult career, I am a little sad about missing some fun stuff at work. Lucky for me I will have a blackberry and promises from the rest of our crew to keep me in the loop.
I don't know if I am there yet, but I read this quote in a book titled "let my people go surfing":
A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his education and his recreations. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always seems to be doing both.
I don't know if I am there yet, but I read this quote in a book titled "let my people go surfing":
A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his education and his recreations. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always seems to be doing both.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
HOLLOW VICTORY?
So the first annual lakemont biathlon was this weekend. And since it was held on the morning after my first late night poker outing since college, I didn't have high expectations. For those of your reading my facebook status around 12:30 am, you might understand why I wasn't "race-ready" (thanks Vann). The gargoyle, trained and ready, was decked out with a fancy swim shirt and was practicing his flip turns when I showed up. He was totally in my head.
After the kids, and relays, and teenagers finished up it was time for the main event. At this point, I'm just hoping not to get lapped. Coming out of the swim, The Gargoyle (due mostly in part to whatever robotic training regimen he is involved in over at SAS) has about a 30 second lead. The good news is that he is at least in sight. The other piece of good news I recently saw Rocky 4. I don't think that the Gargoyle is a soviet, but the computer company he works for in Cary is the closest thing to the KGB this side of Moscow. The gargoyle may have the best technology available (no joke, his office has an Olympic training pool), but I had my Italian heritage, and two solid weeks (14 days!) of Rocky-style training going for me.
Having never run an actual footrace before, I was unaccustomed to something called 'pacing'. Apparently, 'pacing' is where you run less than flat out the whole time so that you can run longer than the length of a frisbee field.
This pacing strategy is all the rage amongst distance athletes. You don't finish a half-iron man (like the gargoyle did last month) using damon style bizerker running. And the pacing strategy would have paid off for the Gargoyle, except for one thing: The lakemont biathlon was an "all-age event" (Read: the course had to be something that a six-year old could complete)
Still & all, it wasn't until the third and final lap that I caught the gargoyle. And in a testament to his off-the-charts level of classiness he dropped me a solid high five when I passed him.
But he must have sensed that my 'take-no-prisoners' mentality would catch up with me. I built up about a 15 second lead, but started to flag around the last bend. I ended up winning, but only by 6 seconds. While I was shot, I kinda have the feeling that it was over before it really started for my nemesis.
There were awards afterwards and plenty of "the gargoyle is old enough to be your father" banter. Which, of course led to a whole bunch of star-wars references ("search your feelings, you know it to be true")
I HAD A BLAST.
And now that I am batting a thousand on racing, I think I might actually keep going. I need to learn some things, like this "pacing" thing. But there is a lakemont biathlon course title to defend, and I would bet a dollar to a donut that the gargoyle is already lobbying for a slightly longer racecourse.
After the kids, and relays, and teenagers finished up it was time for the main event. At this point, I'm just hoping not to get lapped. Coming out of the swim, The Gargoyle (due mostly in part to whatever robotic training regimen he is involved in over at SAS) has about a 30 second lead. The good news is that he is at least in sight. The other piece of good news I recently saw Rocky 4. I don't think that the Gargoyle is a soviet, but the computer company he works for in Cary is the closest thing to the KGB this side of Moscow. The gargoyle may have the best technology available (no joke, his office has an Olympic training pool), but I had my Italian heritage, and two solid weeks (14 days!) of Rocky-style training going for me.
Having never run an actual footrace before, I was unaccustomed to something called 'pacing'. Apparently, 'pacing' is where you run less than flat out the whole time so that you can run longer than the length of a frisbee field.
This pacing strategy is all the rage amongst distance athletes. You don't finish a half-iron man (like the gargoyle did last month) using damon style bizerker running. And the pacing strategy would have paid off for the Gargoyle, except for one thing: The lakemont biathlon was an "all-age event" (Read: the course had to be something that a six-year old could complete)
Still & all, it wasn't until the third and final lap that I caught the gargoyle. And in a testament to his off-the-charts level of classiness he dropped me a solid high five when I passed him.
But he must have sensed that my 'take-no-prisoners' mentality would catch up with me. I built up about a 15 second lead, but started to flag around the last bend. I ended up winning, but only by 6 seconds. While I was shot, I kinda have the feeling that it was over before it really started for my nemesis.
There were awards afterwards and plenty of "the gargoyle is old enough to be your father" banter. Which, of course led to a whole bunch of star-wars references ("search your feelings, you know it to be true")
I HAD A BLAST.
And now that I am batting a thousand on racing, I think I might actually keep going. I need to learn some things, like this "pacing" thing. But there is a lakemont biathlon course title to defend, and I would bet a dollar to a donut that the gargoyle is already lobbying for a slightly longer racecourse.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
A BIT TOO CHEESEY
You would think that a plate full of raw meat and scalding cooking appliances at every table would be the two must troublesome aspects of a fondue restaurant. You might think that, but in the case of the melting pot on wake forest, you would be wrong.
Apparently the only people who eat at fondue restaurants are celebrating a birthday or anniversary or something. Amy and I were there (5 years of matrimonial bliss). Assigned to our table was the inattentive, but comedic, Terrance. He had a memorized spiel. It had been clearly vetted by legal (don't eat directly from fondue skewer, use caution when consuming molten cheese, etc). But terrence found ways to add a little zazz. From nicknaming the rescue spoon 'search and destroy' to comparing the fondue plate to a dog's paw, no aspect of our dining experience was shielded from the awkwardly delivered comedic stylings of Terrence.
The kicker was when we ended the meal Terrence chimed in with this little gem (and I am directly quoting here): "Thanks for coming in. The good news about tonight is it's your anniversary and you two 'celebrating' when you get home is a sure thing" (note that 'celebrating' was said in a way that still makes my skin crawl a little bit.)
Now, I don't know if the Melting Pot's training materials include a section on the appropriate amount of familiarity one should have between waiter and guest, but I am pretty sure that cracking wise about the inevitability of relations between two people you have never met probably crosses some sort of line. If indeed the melting pot training manual doesn't address this I suggest they add the following:
"we here at the melting pot want to put our customers at ease. Eating at a fondue restaurant can be a bit uncomfortable. Uncooked meat, a steamy broth, small tables and an open cooking element coupled with the faux pleasantness that come from over scripting everything about the dining experience all add up to a certain level of apprehension among our clientele. This is why it is ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to refrain from comment on the subject of marital relations in front of the customers. This line of commentary is difficult for even close friends to manage, let alone in the context of the waiter/customer relationship. Rather than creep everyone out by making weird insinuations about the inevitability of sex, please stick to melting pot approved topics, like up selling the specialty salads."
Thanks Terrance for making our 5th anniversary a memorable one
Apparently the only people who eat at fondue restaurants are celebrating a birthday or anniversary or something. Amy and I were there (5 years of matrimonial bliss). Assigned to our table was the inattentive, but comedic, Terrance. He had a memorized spiel. It had been clearly vetted by legal (don't eat directly from fondue skewer, use caution when consuming molten cheese, etc). But terrence found ways to add a little zazz. From nicknaming the rescue spoon 'search and destroy' to comparing the fondue plate to a dog's paw, no aspect of our dining experience was shielded from the awkwardly delivered comedic stylings of Terrence.
The kicker was when we ended the meal Terrence chimed in with this little gem (and I am directly quoting here): "Thanks for coming in. The good news about tonight is it's your anniversary and you two 'celebrating' when you get home is a sure thing" (note that 'celebrating' was said in a way that still makes my skin crawl a little bit.)
Now, I don't know if the Melting Pot's training materials include a section on the appropriate amount of familiarity one should have between waiter and guest, but I am pretty sure that cracking wise about the inevitability of relations between two people you have never met probably crosses some sort of line. If indeed the melting pot training manual doesn't address this I suggest they add the following:
"we here at the melting pot want to put our customers at ease. Eating at a fondue restaurant can be a bit uncomfortable. Uncooked meat, a steamy broth, small tables and an open cooking element coupled with the faux pleasantness that come from over scripting everything about the dining experience all add up to a certain level of apprehension among our clientele. This is why it is ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to refrain from comment on the subject of marital relations in front of the customers. This line of commentary is difficult for even close friends to manage, let alone in the context of the waiter/customer relationship. Rather than creep everyone out by making weird insinuations about the inevitability of sex, please stick to melting pot approved topics, like up selling the specialty salads."
Thanks Terrance for making our 5th anniversary a memorable one
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
UH-OH
So this was pinned to my door this morning. I think I might have poked a beehive with a stick!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
STEEL SHARPENS STEEL
Everyone needs a Nemesis. Ali had Frazier, Batman had the joker, Sam has the Bunny (although if you saw that boy hug that bunny, you might think that quarrel is done.) It is an undeniable fact that heroes need foils, and we never do our best unless we are pushed.
Allow me to introduce my nemesis:
This here is Sean Gargan. Sean (Or 'the gargoyle' as he will henceforth be known) might appear to be just a normal suburban dad (note loving wife, and clean, pressed linen shirt)
But what you don't know about the Gargoyle is the reason he must be stopped.
first, I have a strong suspicion that he was part of a secret government program to reverse the aging process. The gargoyle claims to be "in his 40's" but unless he has some Benjamin Button thing going, this clearly isn't the case. His kids might be graduating, but with a full head of hair, and no "suburban stomach" he is making the rest of us look bad. And if stopping freakish anti-aging mutants isn't enough of a reason to make him my nemesis, the gargoyle sings in a choir. And no one should look so jaunty in a scarf and cap.
The Gargoyle has the rest of the neighborhood fooled with his pleasant demeanor, nice kids and cool wife. But I'm not buying it. I see through his offers to help and invitations to dinner parties. Luckily I have a plan to stop him.
The Gargoyle fancies himself quite the athlete.
He "runs triathlons" and does the krispy kreme challenge, but when some mere mortal without access to whatever anti-aging serum they give him at SAS kicks his butt at an athletic endeavor, he will be forced to come clean.
It might not be the O.K corral, or Normandy beach, but the venue to vanquish the gargoyle has been chosen. On The Last Saturday in June, at the lakemont pool
the first annual lakemont biathlon will commence. Despite my well documented disdain of running I have signed up. I will run. I will swim. and I will defeat the Gargoyle
Allow me to introduce my nemesis:
This here is Sean Gargan. Sean (Or 'the gargoyle' as he will henceforth be known) might appear to be just a normal suburban dad (note loving wife, and clean, pressed linen shirt)
But what you don't know about the Gargoyle is the reason he must be stopped.
first, I have a strong suspicion that he was part of a secret government program to reverse the aging process. The gargoyle claims to be "in his 40's" but unless he has some Benjamin Button thing going, this clearly isn't the case. His kids might be graduating, but with a full head of hair, and no "suburban stomach" he is making the rest of us look bad. And if stopping freakish anti-aging mutants isn't enough of a reason to make him my nemesis, the gargoyle sings in a choir. And no one should look so jaunty in a scarf and cap.
The Gargoyle has the rest of the neighborhood fooled with his pleasant demeanor, nice kids and cool wife. But I'm not buying it. I see through his offers to help and invitations to dinner parties. Luckily I have a plan to stop him.
The Gargoyle fancies himself quite the athlete.
He "runs triathlons" and does the krispy kreme challenge, but when some mere mortal without access to whatever anti-aging serum they give him at SAS kicks his butt at an athletic endeavor, he will be forced to come clean.
It might not be the O.K corral, or Normandy beach, but the venue to vanquish the gargoyle has been chosen. On The Last Saturday in June, at the lakemont pool
the first annual lakemont biathlon will commence. Despite my well documented disdain of running I have signed up. I will run. I will swim. and I will defeat the Gargoyle
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
THE SMALL VICTORIES
Here in the Circosta household we are pretty much all for one, one for all. We generally agree on what needs to happen, when and how. But every now and again I find myself on the outside of mainstream Circosta-ism on certain issues.
take, for instance, the great barber debates of this spring. Sam needs a cut, Amy has steadfastly opposed, and my threats of unilateral action have either been dismissed or rebuffed, depending on what you think an icy silent stare means.
So you can imagine how pleased I was to hear that Amy (finally) made an appointment with the kiddie cutters. I fancy that my lobbying skills played a role in this. And even if they didn't I am relishing the small victory that is a boy cut.
take, for instance, the great barber debates of this spring. Sam needs a cut, Amy has steadfastly opposed, and my threats of unilateral action have either been dismissed or rebuffed, depending on what you think an icy silent stare means.
So you can imagine how pleased I was to hear that Amy (finally) made an appointment with the kiddie cutters. I fancy that my lobbying skills played a role in this. And even if they didn't I am relishing the small victory that is a boy cut.
Monday, May 25, 2009
50 words or less
So the challenge is to write your biography in 50 words or less.(thanks amy)... here is mine. What's yours?
Raised on a mountain, schooled by an ocean, found home halfway between the two with loving wife, happy boy and wondermutt. The quest is systemic but not systematic. Most days it's all good. Connected to many, bound to a few, Damon is perpetually trying to figure what it all means.
Raised on a mountain, schooled by an ocean, found home halfway between the two with loving wife, happy boy and wondermutt. The quest is systemic but not systematic. Most days it's all good. Connected to many, bound to a few, Damon is perpetually trying to figure what it all means.
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