“Track record” or “Hair-brained ideas”

This past week and a half has seen momentous days for two of my closest family members.

Dr. Mom celebrated her 10th wedding anniversary, as I mentioned in the last post. And then BigSis celebrated her 16th wedding anniversary.

Good. Lord.

Dr. Dad is fond of making jokes about marriage. His favorite is that “Marriage is not a word. It’s a sentence.” On his 20th anniversary a few years ago, he remarked that he could have murdered two people and stolen a car and been out by now, with a few years to spare because of early parole for good behavior.

I haven’t been quite as successful as my family members. In fact, I think the best way to sum up my history of relationships with women can best be done through the movie Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

That would be my heart.

Anyway, jokes and bizarre sense of humor aside, it really is pretty fantastic for my mom and sister to have pulled this off. So leave them a comment in the comments, yes?

Also, I have some… interesting news… on the blog front.

Up until Saturday, I worked 17 straight days. I didn’t work full days for all of them, but at least 4 hours each day, and the four-hour days numbered 3 out of them. It was insane. But I loved it.

And therein is a telling story about the work I do. I love it. I volunteer for more work. They don’t let us have unapproved overtime, but if they did, I’d probably put a serious hurt on them in overtime wages.

In fact, there’s only been one really negative experience with work. And that’s not because of work. It’s because of genetics.

I am losing my hair, for those of you who are new to here. It is a tragedy of epic proportions. I suppose I’m fortunate to have kept my hair as long as I have. My mother’s brother had lost pretty much all of his by 19, as I’ve mentioned before. But I’m still not used to thinking of myself among the realm of the shiny-heads, or even the soon-to-be shiny heads. So I go outside and with my complexion, I don’t care about the sun.

Except for last week. Big. Mistake. I got a sunburn on my head. On my scalp. It was awful.

So I went to Target and bought an old man hat. A “stingy” fedora as my boss says its called. I only look minorly strange in the hat and I’m planning on making good use of it. Pictures shall ensue.

And there’s one more thing about work… But I think I’ll leave it as a cliffhanger.

Mwahahaha.

“International man of Awesome” or “My eye is a cheetah”

It is. Seriously. It has a spot in it.

Two days ago, I woke up and noticed a fly was in front of my face. No big deal, it was tiny and I swatted it away.

But then it came back.

After watching this thing for several seconds I realized that it was not in fact a fly. There is a spot in my vision that moves with my eyeball. And it is driving me nuts.

Dr. Mom is off celebrating her 10th anniversary in Grand Cayman (I swear, the woman is a total contradiction in terms – living like the cheapest woman alive most of the time and then winging off to some spectacular place whenever the chance arises), so I called Dr. Dad.

Those of you familiar with Dr. Dad know where this is going. This is the one-way train to Dude, what?-ville.

After describing my problem Dr. Dad was silent for a moment. Then he said something I can quote by heart, because he has said it every time I have had a medical problem since I was 3.

“I knew someone who had that… They died.”

And now for the left turn at the traffic lights.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a total nerd. I like sci-fi (I saw Iron Man and Indy 4 2x each). So one of my fellow nerd friends from college reminded me of a fantastic episode from Star Trek: The Next Generation where two characters, Captain Picard and some alien guy who speaks only in metaphors have to learn to communicate.

And The Evans, my nerd friend, started speaking entirely in metaphor. Then he got me thinking of what my life would be like if I spoke only in metaphor… This is probably how it would go in a time sequence too…

Dariush, his eyes red – I am angry

Dariush, at the airport – Trouble possible

Dariush, at the Office of Homeland Security – Trouble imminent

Dariush, on the ocean – Where am I going, and why am I in this handbasket?

Dariush, at Guantanamo – This is the trouble I was talking about earlier

Dariush, on the waterboarding table – Self-explanatory

Seriously, even if you’re not keen on Star Trek I think you should see this episode, just for the interesting acting and dialogue.

Finally, I leave you with some parting goodies. I shot some wedding photos a couple weeks ago and they are online now. Have a look, tell me what you think. It’s the folder on the right.