Second Impressions

I have been here for a bit, and here is what I have to say.

Michelle and I blindly picked out the best dog on the planet when we went to the local humane society. If enough people pester me about it, I will have to pull out our antique digital camera and post a picture of Livy the Long-Tongued Destroyer of Nations and Terrorizer of All Things with Wings. You can call her Livy for short, though.


German is hard. I don't like it.

World Cup soccer is better than the Olympics. A far less dizzying cast of characters, nothing silly like rhythmic gymnastics, and the whole world actually cares about who wins these games. Oh yeah, and there are no commercial breaks. The only drawback was when Zinedine Zidane went ballistic and ruined the final. But at least there were no commercial breaks.

If forced to choose between the bitter cold of New Jersey winters and the jaw-dropping heat of Texas summers, I would gladly opt for the latter. In the middle of Texas summers, you can go out at sundown or after and be at least somewhat comfortable. Go out at noon in January in Jersey and you will still be miserable.

Enough. I am still lacking coherence. My newly minted Texas driver's licence is contributing to my disoriented state, no doubt.