Not having wanted a dog in the first place, I was surprised by how hard I took our loss of Maeby last March. In her too-brief 22 months with us, she really endeared herself. She had tons of personality, and we will always miss her.

We (Amy) adopted our new beagle, Lemon, in May – tomorrow marks three months. Hoping to have more years together this time around, we went with a younger dog – she’s probably about ten months old. As the video above shows, she can be a lot more challenging that Maeby was, but I think hope as she gets older, she’ll be just as fun.

Happy second anniversary to my sweet Sugarpop! It keeps getting better.

Lyric & Maebyfrom Grilling with Lyric

This sporadic blogger feels the need to post something, despite any specific news. So summer’s been going well. Our patio and grill have seen a lot of use with some thanks to Christin & Lyric and the Kesslers. Maeby’s been keeping us active, and both the dog and I are a few pounds lighter for it. I’ve been having a lot of fun with my new toy, my reading list, new things to study, and some old-school gaming.

My camera has been getting a lot of work as well, but a lot of that still sits on my computer awaiting “post-processing,” otherwise known as deleting, deleting, deleting, cropping, sharpening, and “I’m Feeling Lucky.” So when I finally get through that, there will be photos to enjoy of our continuing summer adventures, including grilling with the Bears, Minnesota wine country, and fun times at Lake Kjostad.

We also recently decided to take a long weekend in San Francisco. Amy’s wanted to go back there as long as I’ve known her, and I’m excited to see it for the first time. If anyone has any travel tips for us, let me know.

Maeby by the Lakefrom Meet Maeby

Woof! We finally have a dog. Amy’s wanted one for as long as I’ve known her, so I knew the time would come eventually. Over the winter, settled in the house, we agreed to get one sometime this spring or summer, after Hawaii. We both did breed research, and I eventually determined I wanted a beagle (before Uno won Westminster, ahem).

Petfinder was a great resource when we actually started looking for dogs. They let you easily search through every shelter and rescue organization for the type of dog you want, and you can specify breed, age range, size, location, or any combination.

When we finally did narrow it down to a couple we liked, Happy Hound Rescue was really great. They were very helpful and responsive, and seemed genuinely interested in matching us with a dog that really fit, resulting in a happier dog and happier owners. I’m glad they did, because Maeby is perfect for us.

Jenny, as the rescue had named her, turned up in our search last week, and we both had a good feeling about her. She was mature, house trained, crate trained, and seemed sweet and quite cute. Amy set up the adoption, and she arrived on Sunday. We named her Maeby, after the Arrested Development character, because, like her namesake, she’s curious and determined and I suspect prone to find trouble if we’d let her.

Maeby is about 5 years old, a bit overweight (but not for long), and possibly a bit arthritic. Like any beagle, she can become fixated on a scent trail. She sleeps all night and loves hanging out with us on the couch. Fortunately, unlike some beagles, she doesn’t make much noise or get too excited about much… except White Castle. Amy brought some home for me the other night, and Maeby started baying and bouncing around like we’d never seen her do. She really wanted those burgers!

Wow, no posts in a month. What a terrible blogger I am. I think I’m justified this time. Frankly, January completely sucked. Hear now my saga.

On the Friday before New Year’s Eve, I woke with a terrible toothache. Despite it being her “busiest day of the year,” my dentist was nice enough squeeze me in. She determined that I needed a root canal. Yay! Unfortunately, she only had time to perform half a root canal – enough to alleviate my pain until the week after next when her schedule was more open.

That seemed to go fine until a couple of hours later – when the root canal got infected. I can’t describe how painful this was other than to say it felt like a kindey stone in my mouth (I’ve had kidney stones several times – it doesn’t get much worse). I called her emergency line, got her directly, and before too long I had some penicillin and was good as new.

Or was I? The Monday after I finished that course of antibiotics, I started to itch. I noticed two mosquito-bite sized bumps on my arm, and I couldn’t stop scratching them. By lunch time, there were three bumps. An hour or so later, there were eight. Hives! I realized that something was seriously wrong with me and went straight to the doctor. She determined that I was probably allergic to the penicillin. She told me to take Benedryll and gave me a perscription for a mild steroid in case they got worse.

I went home and rested, feeling comforted in my nice Benedryll haze, but by bedtime the hives were way, way worse. Imagine a five inch raised, red bump on your thigh that itches like nothing else. I had those in at least five or six spots on my body. Taking the steroid seemed to make them mostly go away by the next morning, and by Wednesday I could barely tell they had been there at all.

Feeling energized by that, I decided to finish the painting that Amy and I had started the weekend prior. I didn’t mind the work, and I sure liked the results: transforming the hideous aquarium-themed nursery into a nice, relaxing home office. I was painting without a mask, and with the doors and windows shut no less. It’s great how they’ve paint not smell bad anymore! Must be fine for you…

Or so I thought. The next morning, the hives were back worse than ever. Itching like crazy! Doc gave me a stronger steroid, and I had to take that and Benedryll for the next two weeks, leaving me in a terrible haze of dizziness, headache, and nausea – all mixed together with a strangely huge appetite. You’d think that’d be the end of it, but the hits just kept on coming. And this just raised a mystery: was I allergic to the penicillin or the paint?

Returning to the dentist to finish my root canal, I figured I might as well get my long-overdue schedule cleaning. In that process, they found two more deep cavities that “might also have to become root canals.” Great. Both had formed behind old fillings (like the first), so there was little I could have done about them. That evening, one of said fillings broke off, leaving a big scratchy hole in one side of my mouth to go along with the scratchy temporary crown on the other. Having the cavities filled in the end was actually more miserable than the root canal in the first place.

All that and I lost $65 at my first poker game of the year. I think I’m back to normal now, and I’m incredibly grateful for Amy’s wonderful care. On the bright side, I have a great excuse to never paint again.

Today, we celebrate one year of wedded bliss. I love you, Sugarpop!

“Cats do not provide milk or wool or meat.” – Dwight K. Schrute. I love The Office. That line from last night’s season four premiere is so funny, but it’s also the perfect nonsense response to people who ask you if you like cats. Just a couple of weeks ago, Em asked me that very question, and I wish I could go back in time with that line in mind. For the record, I do like cats, I just do not want to own one.

I have not written in a while, but not for lack of things to write about I’m sure. Foremost, Amy and I are finally in our new house. All the boxes are unpacked and things are put away, and it really does feel like home. That’s not to say that there aren’t a lot of projects to take care of, namely repainting the Spongebob room or the stucco-on-interior-walls bathroom. But doing those projects should be fun and enlightening, while making the place even more ours.

While unable to quickly sell, we found a great tenant for the condo, and he moves in this weekend. I probably should have listed it for more rent than we are charging, but I’m not disappointed. Within three days of posting it on craigslist, I had shown the place 10 times, turned others away, had three definite offers to rent it, and could have had more. Landlordism is not a mentality I thought I’d take to, but so far so good. Fingers crossed!

I’ll try to post more frequently now that we’re less busy, but if I don’t, you know where to find me.

Why is it that each new driver’s license I get reveals a man ten pounds heavier than his younger self? I’ll grant you that I’m glad I no longer weigh the 135 I enjoyed in high school, but I’m hoping this trend will end now.

So I’m driving to work this morning, minding my own business in the left lane of a downtown one way, just trying to get to the freeway. As I hit the Hennepin Ave interesection, the car in the middle lane decides to TAKE A LEFT IN FRONT OF ME. I slammed on my brakes, skidding and swerving several feet on the slippery rush hour street. I managed to miss that idiot by a couple of feet. I’d like to personally thank the makers of Crazy Taxi, Grand Theft Auto III, and Crackdown for preparing me for such an occcasion. Wow, was I pissed. The driver remained oblivious.

File this under You Don’t See That Every Day: Amy and I took the advantage of the beautiful weather last night with a long walk across downtown. As we made our way home down Nicollet, we came across a blind lesbian couple and their two seeing-eye dogs. Nothing strange about that. Then I noticed what they were doing: asking a passerby to take their picture. As they posed, one of them said, “we try to have one taken at least once a year.”

We passed them, and I looked at Amy with an amazed expression on my face. She laughed, “just don’t say anything.” But I had to! How could I just ignore that? I don’t think it’s insensitive or politically incorrect of me to ask what is the purpose of those photographs? It was a completely surreal moment, and it frankly made the night.

My employer’s annual holiday party was held on Friday night, and it was a blast as usual. They rented out The Fine Line and hired Boogie Wonderland to entertain us. They spare no expense to show us we’re appreciated!

The costume theme this year was 70s Disco. I’m proud to report that yours truly “Big Daddy” Nico won best costume! Amy and I certainly had a blast, and it made up for my shut-out at last year’s party.

I’ve also posted a couple of pictures from Halloween. We didn’t put quite as much thought in to the outfits, but I think they’re funny. Caution, they might offend some.

Congratulations to my sweet fiancée for completing her first half marathon!

We enjoyed a beautiful drive up to Ashland and back and a mostly pleasant stay at the Hotel Chequamegon, which has a beatiful location on Lake Superior and a gorgeous old lobby and hotel bar but lacked some serious attention to detail as far as the rooms were concerned.

Since J is so callously ditching on our annual tradition of hitting the Vikings’ home opener, we had to find a replacement. Many thanks to Tim’s cousin-in-law Jeremy for stepping in.

Spent the weekend before last in ultimate splendor at Jim & Laura’s Shell Lake Oasis, which is also the site of our annual guys’ weekend. It’s always a great time at Shell Lake. And I finally got to hang my hammock, my favorite souvenir from my trip to Colombia two years ago. Best of all, I didn’t burn a single pancake.

Lessons I learned this weekend:

1. If you’ve been drinking… especially gravity-fed, upside-down margaritas in a barber chair right before a fast spin in said barber chair… driving around on a gas-powered scooter, AKA Zooma, is not a good idea. If you’re lucky, you’ll only get some road rash.
2. No matter how sincerely she promises to not get angry or upset if things don’t go exactly how she imagined them, never cut your girlfriend’s hair. I knew it was a bad idea before I cut, and that was confirmed before the last hair hit the floor. On the other hand, it was fun, and her hair has already been complimented today!

Bored and hot on a steamy Sunday afternoon, Amy and I took a walk to William’s Pub in uptown yesterday afternoon to partake of their fantastic $1 burger special. Somewhere along the way, we must’ve been spotted by The Association’s esteemed and inebriated treasurer and caretaker. They kindly saw to berating their humble president’s attire, but what am I supposed to wear? It’s summer! And I’ll be damned if anyone disses the visor.

It was a gift, and of highly sentimental and utilitarian value. Oh yeah, and it’s snowboarding, not skiing. Not to mention that I don’t know the first thing about knitting.

Lastly: Eddie, if you’re going to get Joe drunk, make sure he gets home safe. He’s a scary sight pounding shirtless on the front door and yelling at midnight on Sunday.

Photos from our annual guys’ weekend are up. More to come.

I had a very strange, vivid dream early this morning. In hopes of finding a tennis match (something I had been looking for yesterday afternoon), I called the local tennis center.

They said I was in luck, because it just so happened that Andre Agassi was around and looking for a game. Of course, I immediately found myself there ready to start the match, but I realized I hadn’t brought any tennis balls. I apologized to Andre, and went to the pro shop to get some. We started hitting the ball around. I was feeling anxious because I was so obviously not in his league. Then I broke a string on my racquet. Again, I apologized and headed to the pro shop. Repaired racquet in hand, I headed back to the court.

There I was perplexed to find a big family-style banquet setting up on the baseline. I managed to talk the woman in charge in to moving the party to somewhere more appropriate. Just as Andre and I were about to get back on the court, I noticed that really tall grass and sunflowers had grown, again along the baseline.

We then decided to look for courts elsewhere, but the conversation on the way to my car turned to what he was going to town, where to have dinner. I remember apologizing for the uneven match up, being a 3.0 player to his 7.0 (8.0?). Then I said, “No one’s going to believe that I was playing tennis with Andre Agassi!” He pulled a little digital camera out of his pocket and took our picture. In the picture, the only time I can really remember seeing his face, he looked just like Amy’s brother Todd. And I could see us moving in the still picture. So weird.

Anyway, we decided to go get steaks somewhere, and that’s when I woke up. What does it all mean?!

My building is kitty-corner to Stevens Square Park just outside of downtown Minneapolis. I’m fortunate enough to have a corner unit that overlooks the park, even more so today thanks to Red Hot Art, a tiny but not-half-bad art and music festival. I’ve been milling about my condo for a while listening to the bands playing, and I was just drawn out to the grass by Dot Communists, a really fun, rockin’ local pop band I had never heard of (and for whom I can’t even find a website). How cool to have this going on just outside my window.

Especially after the sharp contrast of last weekend, when there was an actual gunfight in the alley across the street. In the middle of the afternoon! Geez! Anyway, that’s “old” Stevens neighborhood – a version that’s gradually disappearing. I hope that this “new” Stevens catches on a little quicker, though.

Question that’s been going through my head a lot lately: can two people live comfortably in 609 sq. ft.?

Update: Now there’s a really frickin’ terrible, super-hardcore thrash band on. Actually for what I know, they might be a phenomenal hardcore thrash band, but I’d still rather hear those gunshots!

I found a new way to torment my coworkers. Have I mentioned that Amy is an amazing cook? Well, she is. Last night she made a scrumptious Thai pasta with peanut sauce, vegetables, and grilled chicken. She sent some to work with me, but I didn’t eat it over lunch time. I was too antsy, and the guys were going out. But I’ve been thinking about it all day. Four o’clock came, and I caved in. As I ate it in my cubicle, three people stopped by, each drooling like puppy, wondering what smelled so good. So I think I will always save Amy’s tasty goods for the end of the work day… bwahahahah!

I haven’t been “blogging” much lately. Oops. Anyway, Amy and I spent a fantastic Memorial Day weekend in Chicago visiting friends and family.

We hit the road right after work on Friday and made excellent time. 5:30 to midnight including two brief stops. I used to hate road trips, but I’ve really grown to like them thanks to the amazing company and my 40 GB iPod filled with tunes and This American Life episodes. When we finally arrived, we wrestled around Lincoln Park looking for a parking spot. After unpacking and settling in a bit, we went out for a drink and a bite to eat. We had a Guinness at a local pub, and then found ourselves at The Wiener’s Circle on Clark.

If you’ve never been there, make sure to check it out late, when in addition to phenomenal hot dogs, you’ll find the employees exchange verbal abuse with the customers. Upon first hearing, “Yo, give me my motherf*cking char dog, b*tch!,” we didn’t know what to think. As we sat down to enjoy our greasy meal, it became apparent that it was all part of the act. The commotion grew as the bars closed, and the sound of drunk white kids and big black chicks screaming at each other could be heard for blocks. We were really disturbed at first, but when it became evident that no one else was, it was kinda fun.

On Saturday, Carmen, Nate (Carmen’s beau – a very nice boy), Amy, and I took in a Cubs game*. I had never been to Wrigley Field, and I have to admit that it actually was everything it was cracked up to be (can’t wait until the Twins build a stadium – privately funded, of course). Nate’s dare was to eat a dog and drink a beer every inning, but I took no part. After the game, we hung out at Nate’s place. Took a very cozy nap on the Love Sac (all hail the return of the bean bag – high tech style), then enjoyed cocktails and grilling (thanks, “Razor!”) on Nate’s deck.

Sunday was spent boating through downtown Chicago, shopping on Michigan Ave (mostly at H & M), and dining on fantastic Cuban fare at Cafe 28 (delicious empenadas and coconut shrimp, but my pork was a bit tough).

The ride home on Monday certainly had its interesting moments. Before we left, we caught up with Keith over comfort food at Silver Cloud. Good sloppy joes, but not as good as mine. We decided to wait on getting gas until out of the city a bit. Big mistake, as none of the westbound 94 exits on the tollway seemed to have corresponding entrances. Amy and I were totally lost in the desolate Chicago suburbs. We eventually found our way home, and enjoyed a break in Devil’s Lake State Park. We also got a little lucky – the cop that pulled us over gave me a warning, and the deer we saw struck and catapulted fifteen feet in the air right in front of managed to miss our car completely on the way down. All in all, an excellent trip. If only I had used my camera more, it would be better illustrated. And if only I had my Paris notes, that trip would be so well documented. If only…

*travel tip: great seats to a weekend game were no problem right at the box office. Not sure if this was because so many holders were out of town or because of the threatening rain, but I’m betting on the former