I Still Can't Believe It

On the Piney! About three days after we were there last, the banks could no longer contain the flood water and the river rose to about 10 feet from where our tent stood just a few days previously. I don't *think* The Lodge took on any water, but it would have been a really close call, and for those of you that don't know, The Lodge is easily a 150-ft. walk from the normal river bank. Photographic evidence: And I'm going to try this new-fangled video thing...we'll see if it works for anyone (8 Mb for a shorty):

...a once long-lost friend comes back into the fold of your life? Mr. FivePants, it was damn good to see you again. Don't be a stranger. ...your muscles ache from exertion? Sure, you might wince at every movement and going to the bathroom is an exercise in agony, but there's definitely the upside of not feeling quite as sedentary as usual. Of course, my exertion was trying to curve bowl and the only muscle that hurts is my right bicep, but you know what I mean. ...the softest dog in the whole world is cuddled up next to you when you're sad? Corn Dog's ears are like butta. Silky, smooth, butta. And she's so nice and warm. A big, warm, sausage-shaped ball of fuzz. It's like therapy only not as expensive. ...your friends show infinite patience as they try to explain, for the umpteenth time, why you shouldn't beat yourself up? My masochistic streak runneth over. I have been blessed with a style of self-deprecation that can suck up the last ray of suns...

I have a lot of magnets on my refrigerator and I've only just noticed how varied their messages are. Some examples of magnetic philosophy from my refrigerator: "If it smells good, eat it!" On the surface, this seems like well-thought out advice. But when peering deeper into the meaning and with the added knowledge that this magnet is one of those close-up, disproportionate angle pictures of a dog, I start to get suspicious. They say dogs have this intense sense of smell, but have you seen some of the things dogs will try to eat? I rest my case. "Lovely day for a Guinness" I defy you to find a day that would not be a fine day for a Guinness. "Hooray Beer!" This simple philosophical statement could seem like the above Guinness motto, but this one goes deeper I think. It's all encompassing in it's love for beer, not singling out any one flavor (although it is a Red Stripe magnet) and I appreciate that willingness to embrace all kinds. ...

And I mean that literally and figuratively. Brain dead is the most apt description for my current state of mind, and no, it's not because that's my only state of mind. I've just gotten home from Hong Kong and my mind is mush after not having slept much in the last 10 days. Quite frankly, I drank way too much alcohol in that time frame. So much that the bartenders at McSorley's Irish pub in the Macau Venetian all knew my name and gave me hugs when I checked out. And THEN I went and spent the weekend with JP, who has been known to drink to excess and speaks of his liver in capital letters. Poor planning on my part - or rather, a complete lack of any plan because that's how I roll apparently. What is sure to make the highlight reels of this liquid-loving weekend is the part where I tripped getting out of a taxi and ended up face-first on the pavement outside the fourth pub of the night. God bless JP for picking me up, dusting me off and quickly steering me into th...