Here are some pics my wife and I took of the 3 matches we watched – Francesca Schiavone beating Alize Cornet of France 6-2, 6-3, Stanislas Wawrinka beating Nikolay Davydenko 3-6, 7-6(5), 6-4, and Austria’s Jurgen Melzer rallied to beat Julien Benneteau, of France, 1-6, 6-1, 6-4. There’s no wonder this tournament is the most popular outside of the Majors. You get to see both women and men compete at a top of the line facility with great weather to boot!
…we’ll be back next year for sure!
Excerpt: Ricky Gervais wants to host the Oscars with Charlie Sheen… and it appears the troubled TV star would be open to it.
On Tuesday, Gervais blogged that he wanted to pair up with Sheen, whom he mocked while hosting the Golden Globes.
“I will host The Golden Globes again,” he wrote. “AND the Emmys, AND the Oscars if I can do it with Charlie Sheen. I mean it.”
“After each acceptance speech I’d just chat to Charlie, who would just be sitting in an arm chair smoking,” wrote Gervais. “He’d just say what’s on his incredible mind… It would be f—ing amazing.”
Me: That *would* be FUCKING amazing and incredibly entertaining, too. The first person I thought of to host next year was Ricky Gervais. The Academy would not allow it of course… why entertain and make fun of yourself? Just continue to cheese it up and bore the hell out of everyone, why don’t you!
This weekend I took the family up to the local mountains for some snowboarding. It was my son’s birthday and he wanted to try it out for the first time. He brought a buddy so the three of us boarded while the wife and the 5 yr old played in the snow and went tubing.
We bundled up like crazy and layered like nobody’s business since the forecast was for rain, snow, and wind… with a slight chance of freezing our collective asses off.
The drive up was a little scary in spots with cars sliding off the road and tires spinning on the steep inclines (even with chains). Finally making it to the parking lot, we dressed up like matching Michelin Men and up the ski lift we went.
At 9:30 in the AM the skies were cloudy with the sun peeking through every now and then but as we climbed higher and higher, Mr. Sun dismissed himself from the fun and we were soon introduced to Mr. Dreary Dark Skies.
Exhausted from our initial snowboard riding… well ok… mainly falling, we retreated to the lodge for lunch and the licking of wounds. Little did we know my wife and the little one had retreated to the car down below to take cover from the worsening conditions.
Since they were nowhere to be found above on the mountain, we decided to make sure they were OK, so we went down the lift to the lot and this is when the weather decided to go Sam Jackson on us and proceeded to “strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger!”
Mind you, we were properly dressed for the weather but being So Cal weenies the cold took its toll. Weather.com said it would be in the 40’s but now it was easily in the low 30’s, very dark, and snowing sideways (and this was only noon o’clock). My son’s long curly mop was covers in white snow and ice making him look like a 50-year-old hippie Sherpa.
As I sat on the icy lift heading down, the biting cold blowing through and finding every slight opening of exposed skin, I peeked through my arthritic claw frozen gloved fingers and thought of the many expeditions and wagon trains that drudged and blazed trails early on in this great country’s existence.
These people barely had clothes and shoes and proper means for shelter. They endured through winter frostbite, dangerous terrain, and wild animals with nothing more than a couple of burlap sacks and the sharpened fang of a saber toothed mountain lion. Contrary to popular belief there were no Wal-Mart’s back then. They were truly braving the elements.
Here I was covered in three layers of clothes protected in a beanie and helmet and goggles and gloves and coat and boots… yet, I was seriously thinking of jumping off the lift and diving head first into a giant rock to put me out of this frozen misery. IT WAS FREAKING COLD!!!
I contemplated urinating on myself to feel something warm but decided against it since they’d probably have to stop the lift down at the bottom and pry my frozen yellow butt cheeks off the lift chair. That would NOT have been pretty.
So, to make a long story short, finding my wife and kid safe in the warm heater blaring running car… we decided to call it a day and return the rental gear and try to make it down the hill. But to do this we had to endure another trip up and down the lift!
We bundles up with more dry clothes and proceeded to make the journey up and down the ski lift in worse conditions than before. After the mountain made me its bitch again, we were finally trekking down the icy mountain road, snow chains in place, slowly crawling at a snail’s velocity.
An hour or so later we were back home enjoying the 60 degree weather 4 miles away from the beach. Yes, we really have it rough… a chance to play in the snow in the morning and surf and swim in the ocean in the afternoon.
Lewis and Clark we weren’t… but, it was comical to think we dealt with the same pitfalls and tribulations as they did.
Where’s my iTouch? Damn it… I need a Ho-Ho.
Don’t you hate it when you go to a party and then you find out someone there is sick?
Why are they there and why do they think they’re the special ones that are allowed to expose others to an emergency-ward bubble of contagious microbes?
Unfortunately, we were at such a party earlier this week and are now paying the price. Our youngin’ was a geyser of epic proportions last night and just as faithful as the one in Yellowstone.
Email sent to my team this AM due to the 2 hours of sleep had this morning:
From: REscarcega, Sent: Wednesday, December 29, 2010 6:05 AM, To: IDX Operations
Subject: I’m out sick today…
… I’ll be working from home for 2 hours this AM and taking 6 hours sick. My little one has the stomach flu (the wife and I have been up all night tending to him).
Holiday Party Tips: Please DO NOT go to holiday parties where there are SICK people present. Or, better yet, if YOU are sick… and, YOU know you’re sick… please keep your infectious germs to yourself and stay home. You do not owe it to anyone to be there. Nana can get her much-anticipated oven mitt another day and Uncle Sven will be fine with one less pair of socks this Xmas. So, do us ALL a favor and quarantine yourself immediately. (Partiers down and out from this one party alone: 5 people… driving the porcelain bus).
I can be reached at 714.123.4567
Thanks – REscarcega, ACME Medical Systems, Sr. EDI Analyst | 714.123.4567
My mom’s an original. Just back from a trip to visit my parents, I’m left with two things on my mind: my mom’s great cooking and her patented mom-isms.
My mom insists on serving us tasty food morning, noon, and night. Each time we visit, we look forward to stuffing our faces with yummy Mexican food and great variations of common dishes like: spaghetti, potato salad, and meat loaf. But her specialty, obviously, is making Mexican food.
This trip’s main food event? Tamales! We came home with red chili, green chili and cheese, and sweet tamales. Oh yeah… not to mention the cooler full of home-made beans, two types of salsa, potato salad, fresh tortillas, and jalapeño chili peppers.
Now, on to my mom’s quirky ways – like…
She doesn’t have a trash can in the kitchen. My mom collects items needing disposal in a small butter container in the sink. She then transfers those items into plastic super-market bags, and then off they go into the trash can outside. I see this each and every time I visit, and still, I sit in awe at this strange ritual of transferring discarded goods.
Next, I noticed her dumping about a glass worth of milk from a gallon down the sink. My wife and I both caught this and looked at each other and smiled.
The poor milk, in want of nourishing the bones and souls of needy, hunger stricken African children with distended bellies… down the drain it went.
“Be gone with you, Milk! You are not worthy of being consumed this fine day! You are banished to the bowels of the sewer… damn you, straight to hell!”
In a small way I liken this to the shrieking howls sperm must make when they discover they’re shooting down the throat of a generous taker as apposed to crashing against the walls of a uterus – its destination nowhere near the intended mark.
Well… maybe not.
I’m guessing mom was *jonesing* for a fresh hit of dairy goodness? She just *had* to open the new gallon before it expired, right? Even though *we* (my wife and I) had just seconds before checked the expiration date and smelled the previously redundant milk gallon before using it for the little one’s cereal – something you must do at my mom’s. Case in point…
On our last trip, I trashed a jar of jelly (into the empty butter container, or course) because it just so happened to be housing a flea circus; fleas, flies, insects – who knows what they were. But, they sure were having a grand ol’ time in there. But, I digress…
Lastly, and this one’s the best, my mom makes a great cup of coffee! She will ask if you want a cup of coffee. And, she will serve you a great cup of coffee… complete with tons of cream and sugar already poured in! But, what’s that you say? You don’t take lots of cream and sugar? Nonsense! Everyone loves lots of cream and sugar! Uhhh, don’t they?
Each time we visit, I forget this and I have to hop on the pony express to cut her off at the pass!
“Ummm, that’s ok, mommy… I’ll get it.”
Not that I don’t like being in a cream and sugar coma. I’m just weird in that I prefer to concoct my own caffeine infused hot beverage. I opt for one and one leveled teaspoon of said condiments in my coffee cup as an alternative to a shot glass of coffee in my cream and sugar bowl.
My mom… she’s a keeper.
Oh yeah… I got my mom drunk on my world-famous margaritas this time out. But, that story is for another day.
The room is white; the room is empty… empty, all except for Rudy. Rudy rests his head on the palm of his hand, sits, and patiently waits. For what, you ask? Guess. If you’re interested, and 9 out of 10 people are, you can probably guess. Me? I’m *supposed* to know, silly.
Rudy is a 3 horned, purple headed, wooly creature of immense weight and circumference. Strands of rainbow colored locks sway from his melon and girthy middle – left and right, slowly and smoothly, like the gentle meander of an eel in search of prey.
There are no windows open, there are no windows. The ceiling fan is off, in fact, the moment I notice it… it’s gone. I don’t feel a draft; no goose-bumps on me. Rudy’s tufts of hair are alive on their own and react to me.
A wall of hot air envelopes the room. (Sniff… Sniff… ) Did someone just pass wind? Well, Rudy did… but, that’s just Rudy.
I purposely walk over to Rudy, right eyebrow raised. I lean to the left, squint, and try to peek around. Nope, I’m incapable of seeing around. I take two steps and tilt my head to the right… eyes straining to ponder the mammoth arc. One beat… two beats… three. Deep breathe in… blow out. I reject the idea of being able to see my way around Rudy. Nah, I don’t get it. Plus I don’t believe it’s possible *to* get it.
There’s no obvious way to get my head around Rudy – nothing simple, anyway. Maybe a group effort – the teamwork of friends and family to help get around? Nope, I reject that idea. I don’t want help; it has to be me and me alone. Hmm…
Rudy looks to be attentive and tolerant, but his stare begins to wander… sometimes at me, sometimes not. With the innocent, simple far-off look of a retarded child who just wants to eat or play, Rudy starts to fidget. The extensive flowing curls distract Rudy for a second then the squirming begins again. Does Rudy need to go poop? I don’t believe so… I have faith in that.
What troubles me is simple – I can get from point A to point B. It’s short, uncomplicated… makes sense. But, tell me that it’s possible to get from point A to point 37, yet there is no undeniable proof? I will totally reject, well… Rudy. That’s *my* assurance.
I’m a thoughtful, caring, literal person but when trials and tribulations lead me to consider and scrutinize Rudy… I wonder why? It makes no sense to me. Rubbish, I say! I need honest, black and white facts.
Perplexed (but in a good way), I reach up and examine what remains of my hair. Scratching and rubbing my head alerts Rudy to do the same. Hey Rudy, I used to have hair like you. But, now, I don’t miss it. I don’t even remember it.
There is in fact an elephant in the room.
The 1946 black and white holiday classic is my 3rd most favorite movie to watch at Christmas time. This movie in a word is… magic. The story, the characters, the town buildings and storefronts, the message – all magic. James Stewart stars as George Bailey, a man given a chance to see how the world around him would have turned out if he hadn’t been born.
As the movie starts, people are praying for George – townsfolk, friends, and family. George is at the end of his rope. He’s in need of a large sum of money to cover for his uncle’s forgetfulness and to save the family business. Everything is crumbling around him and he contemplates killing himself. But, the prayers of many are heard and an angel, Clarence Odbody (Henry Travers), is send down to help George.
Checkbook in hand, the angel offers to write a million dollar check to solve everything… The End. Uh, maybe not… but, that would have been a cool ending, right?
Here are a number of great quotes from this grand movie.
As his brother Harry toasts at the end of the movie, “A toast to my big brother George: The richest man in town.“
George finds out the life he led truly was a wonderful one.