NEW SUNSET PICTURES!

Ok, so both of these are of the same sunset. Both were taken from my new 1.3 Megapixel camera phone (and there was much rejoicing, yea!!!!!). How cool is this: My camera has 4 different filters I can choose, this is from the 'Daytime' filter. I think I'm going to be using that one from now on. :) I think you can click on the picture for a larger view. Enjoy!

Golf last Saturday

While eating lunch at work today, I decided to blog some more stuff that I've been meaning to get to. For those who read the last post, don't worry, my lunch is NOT oatmeal. I thought I should let things calm down a bit lest the natives once again become restless and a jar of cracked wheat ambush me guerilla-style from the cupboard or something.

So, my brother and I played golf last Saturday for his birthday. We had a grand ol' time, and I've got the pictures to prove it! Ok, so there couldn't be enough pictures to capture the full grandeur of the fun we had, but you can get some of the great details here.

Let's put the following into perspective by saying that, despite my advanced age of 29, I am a neophyte golfer. Literally, I have less than 5 rounds of golf in my experience.

This first shot is of my golf ball (that I got for my birthday from the same brother) where it landed approx. 150 yards from the tee, ON THE FAIRWAY! Yes, ladies and gentleman, I kid you not, I hit the fairway. (Until this moment, I think my golf balls thought that the fairway was to be avoided, as you will see in a later shot.) Oh and lets not forget it was OVER THE POND. And it was the first shot. I didn't hit the water, I didn't hit the rough. I did about ten 'Toyota' jumps in a row, looking like I just won the superbowl.

So, being ON THE FAIRWAY, I used my 1 wood again because I was still 150-180 yards from the green. This next photo is of my ball, ON THE FAIRWAY, about 20 yards from the green. WOOHOO! Two strokes, and I'm in pitching range! It is just as likely on any given tee, that at two strokes, I haven't made it past the girl's tee(no offense ladies).

The third shot is of my ball, ON THE GREEN, in three strokes.

A two-putt, and I finished the hole in 5 STROKES. I was ready to quit, calling that my final triumph, but we continued anyway.

This shot is of a 40 yard pitch that missed the green to the right and decided mercifully to stop before the muck. It doesn't get much closer than that, especially when its flying through the air.

And this is the pond where my brother, by his own confession as bad a golfer as I am, skipped his ball across the water ONTO THE FAIRWAY! (okay, just left of the fairway, but I couldn't resist the all-caps reference again) Its a short hole, the tee is to the left (off-picture) and you shoot over the pond to the green on the right (also off-picture). My brother donated one ball to the pond in a forward and downward shot. His second shot looked the same, except instead of sinking, it skipped, hit a rock on the bank(in picture middle) and hopped right onto the grass. UNBELIEVABLE. But it was his birthday gift, so I can't think of a more deserving guy.

MY OATMEAL ATTACKED ME

My oatmeal attacked me this morning. It can't really be blamed. I think I provoked it. First, I ripped open its home(the packet) with arrogant disdain. Then, seeing my oatmeal had colonized itself into a higher organization(a hard brick of sugar in the shape of one corner of the packet) I proceeded to crush it between my fingers, sure that my superior intellect was more than a match for this little life form. This was my first mistake.

My oatmeal fought back by exploding all over the counter. This was probably the colonial oatmeal version of a fight or flight response. 'If you can't save the colony, save some of its members by flinging them away from danger'.

Having quelled said response by sweeping all the fleeing granules into my bowl, I opened the second packet. Apparently agitated by the brutalization of its sister packet, this one exploded upon opening. Perhaps this response included a mood-enhancing agent in the mixture, because I started laughing. Unfortunately for the oatmeal, this was only a temporary solution. Gathering the oatmeal for its ultimate purpose, I drowned it with water and cooked it in the microwave.

Thinking my victory complete, I ran a quick errand while I let my microwave minion finish the job.

Returning to the place of my oatmeal's demise, I found that somewhere in its life my oatmeal had read Herman Melville's Moby Dick. For with its very action, it embodied the semi-famous quote, "To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee." It had boiled over, soiling the microwave and making a mess of of my bowl in the midst of its death throes. And when I removed the lid, the steam bit me.

I can understand the desire for self-preservation, but did it really have to be vindictive?