Charlotte Slideshow

Here she is in all her glorious cuteness. Enjoy!

The Return of Game Night

Among the many reasons I was so excited to be returning to Wisconsin was Game Night. Myself, my brother, my sister, her boyfriend, and a fifth ne'er-do-well had been making a pretty solid attempt at meeting regularly to play games.

This evening was a reunion of sorts. Normally, we'd be playing Dungeons and Dragons or a game by White Wolf. Due to work schedules, and a general lack of preparedness which most gamers are prone to suffer; we found ourselves playing a fun if less complex game: Heroscape.

All I can say is: "Get this game!" For those of you worried about getting lost in a series of rules; don't. The entry level rules are so easy to learn it's a crime. The figures all come prepainted and are relatively affordable. The real fun of this game is the board. It's actually not a board, but a collection of interlocking pieces used to create terrain--in 3-D! You've got to check it out!

That's it for me. Two posts in one day and I've got to get back to reading Harry Potter 7. Good night!

On, Wisconsin!

I'm back home for a week. My real home that is. The land of cheese and football know as Wisconsin is beautiful in the summer. Not nearly as melty as Florida or as wet-gym-sockish as Tennessee. It's good to be back.

Above, I have two curious items. On the left, Wilson's own chai tea concentrate. Now, I was an early adopter to the whole chai tea latte trend. My friend Sarah clued me in back when we were both substitute teaching and skipping out between classes. Back then chai was a strong drink, heavy with spice and not for the weak willed. Children would flee from it in terror. As word got around, more and more people wanted to try this magical brew. Unfortunately, those who stepped up to the challenge were often scared off. Yet they craved the cool-by-association attention they could earn holding a cup of this magical concoction. Alas, chai has become a victim of its own popularity, losing it's once universal awesomeness by cutting back on flavor.

The good people of Wilson's in Racine, WI, have not given up on chai and have remained true to their caffeine laden values. Every time we visit the area, a visit to Wilson's is assured. We generally clean them out of however many half-gallon jugs of chai they have prepared for take-home sales. This quart bottle won't even make it to the airport.

Next up is a Tyrannosaurus Rex as featured in How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? This, although super ninja awesome, is not coming with me either. It is a gift. "But penguin_poet," you may say, "how in the world could someone rack up enough cool points to receive such a wonderful gift?" The answer to that is simple. You have to be my niece.

Making her Penguin Postings debut, it's: Charlotte! She beautiful and well worth the trip. I only wish that Monkey-Girl could have come along with me to meet her.

Rest assured; I have checked. She's got monkey toes.

Happy Anniversary!

No, no, Penguin Postings hasn't been around for fifty-two weeks quite yet. Monkey-Girl and I have been "one flesh" for 312 weeks. That's right, exactly six years ago today we were married.

Things have changed a lot in that time. I'm no longer a bartender just six credits shy of his bachelor's degree. Monkey-Girl is no longer a frustrated office worker. We're no longer "stuck" in south-eastern Wisconsin. Even our plans have changed. Monkey-Girl is no longer on the path to opera stardom. I am no longer without plans.

We've helped each other dream big, and achieve! Monkey-Girl got me through completing my first bachelor's and a second major. I, in-turn, helped her into starting her own vocal instruction business. God has led us on an exciting path so far and there's no reason to think He's done with us yet.

A constant throughout has been our comfort with relying on one another. We could not have made this journey individually and we know we would both be diminished if we were separated. In short we're still in love!

Another constant: monkeys.

Special Double-Sized 50th Post!

Lizard Invasion!

On Sunday, Monkey-Girl was the on-call chaplain. She was called away to back-to-back emergencies at two different hospitals. In anticipation of my loneliness, the above lizard (yes, I'm posting my own photos now) ran into to the apartment as Monkey-Girl was leaving.

Sorry there's nothing in the picture for scale. Just trust me when I claim he was a whopping two inches from head to tail. As cute as this little guy was, my first inclination was to let him be. The hospital says we can't have Mercutio with us so we may as well have a lizard friend for a pet. We'd name him Hermes. Then my logical brain woke up and reminded me that that was a bad idea.

Now, how to trap and release a two-inch, fast as all get out, delicate-looking lizard? I grabbed a coffee mug and set two work trying to envelope and not bisect the erstwhile Hermes. (I like words.) I managed to trap the little guy without injury to either of us. I then noticed that I was trapped standing on a chair in my pyjamas with my arm extended over my head holding a coffee mug against the wall. The stare-down began.

As I was beginning to lose feeling in my finger tips (probably three minutes into our test of wills,) I realized that my initial plan was not going to work. I lifted the mug to find my would-be Hermes blinking at me. What followed was not a tale for the meek.

I, a man of thirty Wisconsin winters, chased a lizard the length of my little finger out my front door by banging an empty mug against the wall. At least I had the sense to pull on a less revealing outfit. Mom, I hope you're proud.


Megatron's Trophy

As Monkey-Girl has actually run out of knitting projects, I did a little exploring on The Internet. (Blogger insists on the capitals.) I suggested that she try to make a stuffed penguin.

As you can see, someone misunderstood. Megatron, despotic ruler of the evil Decepticons, wanted to help. He thought that in order to make a stuffed penguin one would need to have a penguin pelt. Before we could explain his error (try telling a tyrant bent on universal domination he's wrong,) he was off.

Days later he returned with this gruesome headdress. He gathered the other Depeticons around and told the saga of his tracking of the fearsome beast. He'd gone without energon for days; tracking his quarry his only concern. Suddenly, half delirious, he spotted the terrible creature. The two combatants, locked in mortal combat, moved like lightning. When the dust finally settled, the victor held aloft his opponent's corpse and let forth a primal scream.

"He was a worthy adversary," declared Megatron. "He shall be immortalized in the Decepticon annals. Prepare his body for eternity, slave!"

He tossed the lifeless skin at Monkey-Girl's feet. (Megatron can be a jerk sometimes.)

Anyway, Monkey-Girl is almost done with her latest project.

231 Years Young!

It's been a week since I've updated this little gem of a sight and I have to say that I do feel a little guilty.

Monkey-Girl and I saw the first showing of Transformers on Monday night. The theater was packed and we got to sit in front of a gaggle of girls that spent the time before the previews saying how awesome it was that they were there to see the first showing of Transformers and asking each other what the movie was about. (That's teenaged girls, I guess.) The sound went out for one minute and forty-three seconds. (Monkey-Girl timed it.) The crowd was ridiculous. Shouts of, "Rewind it!" went up. When the projectionist didn't, because that's impossible to do with a projector, the crowd whimpered their discontent and generally got over it. On the way out of the theater, Monkey-Girl insisted that we politely ask the manager for some form of compensation. He very happily explained that he was very sorry, they can't rewind a projector, and gave us two free unrestricted passes to any show.

The movie was a nice, brainless entertainment. It's, as expected, only tangentially Transformers. It will make lots of money and inspire kids to ask Mom and Dad for Transformers toys for years to come. Hence, more Transformers toys for years to come. Yay, me!

On Wednesday, we celebrated the signing of a resignation letter by some wealthy landowning Englishmen. I don't mean to belittle the founding of our country, but setting July fourth as the "birthday" for our country seems a bit odd to me. I think the signing of the Treaty of Paris (September 3, 1783) is more appropriate. How about the date of Cornwallis' surrender at Yorktown (October 19, 1781)? I'd even take the date the Second Continental Congress voted to ratify the Declaration of Independence (July 2, 1776). What happened was this: they made many revisions to the original document and didn't want to send off a scratched-up copy to "Blind King George." The solution: send it to a calligrapher and have him make a fresh copy. Two days later, they got it back and signed it. It may seem like I'm splitting hairs for the sake of splitting hairs, but I'll have you know that John Adams agreed with me.

Anyway, Naples had a nice fireworks display.