Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas

Happy is he who understands the causes of things. At least according to Vergil. And the London School of Economics.

I graduated today, officially becoming a Master of Science. I feel a little unfulfilled, since I wasn't able to participate in the actual ceremony, and stupid Oz forgot that he needed the international access code and the country code in the number to send text messages to his people in London, so sadly we do not yet know if Sir Howard did the hand-shaking and if Carlatio was there to see his little birds take flight.

And apparently I also missed a killer pair of spike heels, worn by the G-Lo. One hopes there are pictures. But the Moms made some steaks and some yorkies to celebrate, and that was good enough for me. I had to save the glass of champers for a little while, since I didn't want to go to rehearsal drunk.

Congratulations to Dirrty, G-Lo, P-Diddy, Quentin and the whole gang. We'll have to do that again sometime.

Apologies for the oversight

Apparently when I updated my bloggage I lost the links, which made Dirrty sad sad sad. And this was not the intention, so I ask all to forgive the oversight. I have properly disciplined my staff.

In other news, I have discovered the joys of the wireless network extend into the bathroom. Now I have blogged from bed and blogged from the bathroom. I would like to stay I had blogged while in the bath, but that poses some safety hazards that I haven't quite figured out how to overcome. Instead, I leave the location of this blogging to your fertile imaginations....

Apologies for the oversight

Apparently when I updated my bloggage I lost the links, which made Dirrty sad sad sad. And this was not the intention, so I ask all to forgive the oversight. I have properly disciplined my staff.

In other news, I have discovered the joys of the wireless network extend into the bathroom. Now I have blogged from bed and blogged from the bathroom. I would like to stay I had blogged while in the bath, but that poses some safety hazards that I haven't quite figured out how to overcome. Instead, I leave the location of this blogging to your fertile imaginations....

Happy Birthday Pops

Please wish the Good Doctor a happy birthday today. We won't mention how old he is, except that its the start of a new decade. He is, of course, on the hospital service so we haven't seen or heard from him yet tonight. Which is causing unreasonable delays in the availability of the steak. And since I haven't had the steak for, oh, ages I'm starting to get restless. There are also chocolate eclairs in the fridge from Gram (the Dad's Moms), and those can't be eaten until after the steak, so you can see what kind of problem is about to be caused.

Oh, the garage door. My salvation! Off to sign his card, and then, the steak!

Hello World!

Hello dear friends. I have returned. Its only been, what, two months? I think I'm going to try a new look and everything - a sort-of resurrection of the bloggage. Ah, the excitement. I can feel it.

The quick and dirty, in bullet points for easy reading:

• I'm back home.
• I work days, the go to the gym, eat some dinner, watch some tv, and go to bed. Sometimes I play my cello.
• Shampoo, rinse, repeat.

I regret that there are no good stories lately. I would like to have reported on the co-ed wrestling at Clifton's birthday party, but I wasn't there so it would be hearsay and that's not admissible in court. I've noticed a relationship between living with the folks and a lack of drunken foolishness, which is too bad, because I can be a fun drunken fool.

That is all, since I need to go watch some Monday Night Football and see if there is any chance I can squeak out a win in my fantasy league. Its not looking good for Oz's All-Munchkin All-Stars this week...