• PowerBook or MacBook Pro?

    There is no question which one I’d choose given the choice… I’ll take a MacBook Pro please. Still, there’s something about my PowerBook. Look no further than the name… now that’s gravitas baby!

    I suppose with a name like PowerBook, there was nowhere to go but down.

    You know what this was really about? I was just reading about my cousin’s infatuation with his MacBook Pro… and this is a thinly veiled attempt to reconcile the fact that he has one and I don’t.

    Normally I’m a needs over wants kind of guy… or I like to think so anyway. Sadly, I must admit my computer is the exception.

  • Slow and steady

    Today was the first day since the chemotherapy started that I can honestly say I enjoyed. No, the cancerboy isn’t back to 100 percent; not even 75 if truth be told. There was this unfortunate incident with a plunger and a toilet that I don’t even want to talk about, other than to say the ordeal left me physically drained.

    Although, working out your plumbing related issues with the business end of a big stick could do that to anyone.

    The secret to today’s upswing was striking a bit of genealogical gold. I’ve been doing a little work trying to find/obtain documentation to back up my prior research… and today several pieces fell together. I had a pretty strong indication that a few of my ancestors fought in the American Revolution, but I’d had trouble finding the documents to prove it. Today it all fell together.

    My wife thinks this is positively wonderful, and my daughter should apply for membership with the Daughters of the American Revolution as soon as she’s eligible (you have to be 18). I’m not sure I share her enthusiasm. Maybe it’s just me, but the whole thing seems a little pretentious… not to mention the group has a history of racial discrimination.

    In any case, I’m happy as a clam just knowing.

  • This is home

    Friday was a strange day. I had spent the last two weeks in a single isolated room. Despite the disruptions, the rhythmic noises of the hospital slowly became what was “normal.” Then just as abruptly as the hospital stay began, it ended.

    When I got home nothing seemed normal anymore. Everything was off, down to the smell. I asked Cheryl if she’d sprayed something or changed any of the cleaning products; but no, everything was the same… save for me. I can imagine it might have been the same after taking a long vacation… but I haven’t done that in years.

    My energy level was another surprise. Who would have known that being at home would be so tiring? It doesn’t take much energy to be cooped up in a single room, but a house has so many choices.

    The good news is everything feels like home again. Everything looks and smells right. I just need to work on that energy level. I’ve been taking short walks down the street. Once I even spontaneously jumped into a gleeful trot, and it would have been wonderfully liberating if my knees hadn’t turned into Jell-O at that exact moment.