Category Archives: Uncategorized

Spinning in Place

Each morning as I walk into the gym, the whirring cries of 50 some treadmills and ellipticals greet my ears.  The users of these stationary instruments of cardio-based torture put forth maximum effort not to move forward, but rather to turn back the hands of time.  The time which, year after year, like the rings of a tree trunk, added pound by pound and roll by roll to hips and bellies.  The average American gains 1-2 pounds a year through his or her 20s and 30s and I am no exception.  But I realize now, as every 30 something has before me: there is no going back.  You can burn off the fat, but the person underneath is no longer 20 and a fit body is simply a thinly veiled disguise—a homage to a time when we all but glowed in our sexuality and the pride of knowing the entire world was wishing they were us.  But now we have joined the ranks of the demographic spinning on treadmills, running from time while watching a fresh wave of 20 somethings in the free weights area spending more time taking selfies and chatting than actually exercising.  And we have only the grim vindication of knowing that someday they too will be here.

But something interesting happens around age 30: a drive for personal growth.  Maybe it’s the fact that structured learning is no longer a part of our lives.  Or that our entire agenda is no longer based completely around sex.  But suddenly we crave challenges like riding a bike further than ever before, running faster than ever before, performing better at our jobs than ever before, or raising the children we got as a result of the activities of our 20s.  Many elite marathoners are in their 30s.  At 38, Constantina Diță of Romania won the women’s marathon In the 2008 olympics.  At our jobs, we have the advantage of both looking young, but also old enough to be taken seriously and the experience to back it up.  So make a goal to move forward, not backwards, and achieve something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.  Do we miss our 20s?  Absolutely.  But it’s not going to slow us down.

Family Fun vs. Strava

“Be careful, Daddy!” the little voice of my son Cade calls out from the trailer behind me interrupting my efforts at ignoring my burning legs.  I am pedaling hard, laboring my bike up a 3% grade that, thanks to Cade and his twin brother Grant in the Burley Bee Double I’m pulling, feels like at least 10%.  80 pounds of toddler and trailer make for a heavy load.  My legs are on fire and I’m breathing hard, but I manage a reply.

“What should I be careful of?”

“Wolves!” comes his emphatic reply.  I chuckle aloud.  We are riding through suburban Salt Lake City.  There are no wolves—only well manicured lawns and the occasional dog on a leash.  Cade is demonstrating his vivid imagination, a trait that has only recently emerged, and I’m thrilled and flattered to be included in the make-believe.

“OK, we’ll be careful,” I assure him.  “Let me know if you see any.”  And I can’t help but let my own imagination transport us to an epic Alaskan byway with a pack of wolves running alongside us.  Suddenly I’ve forgotten the burn in my legs.  I look up from the pavement in front of me and take in the fine spring day.  The grass has turned green, the trees are budding, and the flowers are blooming.  My eyes have grown accustomed to the grays and browns of winter, and this is a feast of color everywhere I look. 

I am excited for our ride today.  I have designed the ride over the past several nights using the cycling map and  I was able to incorporate some new areas of the city which I have never seen before as well as some of my all time favorites such as City Creek Canyon. 

It was not always easy for me to amp myself up to tie an 80 pound trailer to my bike and ride further than the ice cream shop just down the street.  The competitive side of me craves putting up big enough miles to make it to the top of the weekly leaderboard of the office Strava cycling club, but this is an endeavor that is clearly absurd with toddlers in tow.  Aside from the obvious resistance the trailer adds, there is the effort of hooking it up, putting shoes and helmets on the two little riders, attempting to democratically settle any disputes about who sits in which seat before giving up and forcefully buckling each boy to a chorus of nearly harmonized wailing.  By the time I roll out of the driveway, my heart rate is typically already at 160.  Overall, Cade and Grant really do enjoy riding in their “yellow trailer”, but I’ve learned through trial and error that they have a hard stop for sitting nearly on top of each other in a confined space at the two hour mark.  Any more and we enter a volatile territory which almost always ends with all three of us sick of the others. 

A January Stroll in Snow Canyon

A January Stroll in Snow Canyon

In the past, I have attempted to balance my duties as a father and a husband while ducking out during down time for solo cycling outings, which worked out well enough, while I readily admit that the existence of parental “down time” is questionable at best.  But when we added baby number three to the fold in February, I unilaterally decided it would be best for the family and our marriage if I simply took Cade and Grant with me on all of my cycling adventures leaving Tara and Harper home for some much needed peace and quiet.

Riding with the trailer was extra work, but I told myself it increased my workout intensity making me stronger.  The internal conflict came from Strava, relentlessly logging all recordable stats from my jersey pocket all the while blissfully ignorant of the 80 pound bomb I was pulling with a two hour fuse.  Several times a week I would completely trash my legs with only 20 or so miles to show for it.

Ascending City Creek Canyon in Fall

Ascending City Creek Canyon in Fall

Then one day, while ascending a bike path gently winding along roaring Big Cottonwood Creek, Grant commented on the beauty of the water, and it dawned on me: Strava, by design, encourages quantity over quality.  Through its lens, an extra large fast food chain meal looks better than a tapas plate from the local joint down the street.  The clever algorithms don’t care if I take the scenic route up a mountain canyon and discover a stream-fed pond rimmed with wildflowers just feet from the road.  In fact, Strava actually discourages my rolling onto new roads by rewarding repetition in the form of achievements for competing against my previous attempts.  An entirely fresh route typically yields a big fat ‘0’ next to the trophy symbol.  I changed my outlook immediately.  Strava would continue to log the numbers, but the true measure of a ride’s quality would be the photos captured and the memories created.

Keeping a wary eye for wolves and other beasts, I pedal up out of the city and into City Creek Canyon.  The road here only allows cars on certain days and today is not one of them.  We have the road to ourselves and the abrupt transition from city to peaceful wilderness is profound.  As we ascend the gently sloping road, Cade and Grant have switched games.  I’ve missed the theme, but evidently it is hilarious and their rolling giggles mingle with the singing birds and babbling creek.

Snack Stop in City Creek Canyon

Snack Stop in City Creek Canyon

The road is lined with picnic stops and when I’ve had enough of the climb, we pull over at one.  In my haste to leave the house, I’ve forgotten our snack, but a search of the back of the trailer produces two granola bars that aren’t too old.  We divvy up the loot and sit at the picnic table chewing in silence as we take in the peaceful mountain setting.  Grant wants to know what the creek is called.  On a previous adventure, I had taught them all creeks have names.  I explain to them now how snow melts from the peaks above and feeds the stream we are looking at now.  I don’t know if they get it, but they listen intently with wonder nonetheless.

“OK boys, you ready to go fast?” I ask them, finishing my granola bar.

“YEAH!” They answer in enthusiastic unison.  We mount up and cruise down the twisty canyon road.  With the warm wind in my face and the satisfaction knowing my legs pulled us all the way up, a sense of euphoria comes over me.  It continues as we exit the canyon in downtown Salt Lake City. 

There are many ways to ride through downtown and Main Street is definitely not the fastest, but I choose it today because it is my favorite.  I love the narrowness of it and the way the buildings tower above on either side like an urban canyon narrows.  I have to dismount and walk through Temple Square, but the tulips are in full bloom and its worth it to observe them in slow motion.  The city is oddly quiet on this Sunday afternoon and it feels as though we have the whole place to ourselves.  South of downtown we pick up Parleys bike path and ride it up to Sugarhouse where Tara and Harper are waiting for us at Habit Burger with hot burgers and cold milkshakes.  It is the perfect conclusion to a wonderful adventure.

The ride was barely 20 miles, but we rolled through the tree-lined streets and perfectly manicured lawns of some of the nicest houses in the valley, left the city and followed a mountain stream up a verdant canyon, and then soared down, gliding amongst the skyscrapers before arriving in Sugarhouse for dinner.  I have seen less on 70 mile rides.  The joy of designing a executing a bicycle-powered adventure such as this one is a metric Strava is not capable of measuring.  But my memory is designed to record it in high definition.  And the pure excitement Cade and Grant demonstrate when they see me hitching the trailer to my bike tells me they feel the same way.


When I was young I had a 9:00 P.M. curfew, except for the first day of the summer, for which my mother graciously extended our play time one hour to 10:00 P.M. in honor of the longest day of the year.  For a few years, this was our tradition–exploring the neighborhood by bike or by scooter until the last bits of summer sun had dissipated amidst the corn stalks and fire flies filled the sky.

One year we rode scooters down from the gravel road behind our house through the backyard.  Jeremy, disoriented in the darkness, inadvertently jumped his scooter off the three retaining walls in our side yard.  Our laughter echoed off the neighboring houses and our bellies cramped from the effort as we rolled around in the grass.  

It was only a few years before I was old enough that my curfew was extended, but the magic of that day lived on.  This year, Tara and I decided to take a walk through our neighborhood to Parley’s Park.  We found ourselves in an adventurous mood, taking streets we had never been on and following Parleys Creek far into the park.  When we reached the far end of the park, at a place where young people do something called “Shooting the Tube”, I realized it was 9:30 and we were nearly 2 miles from home.

So we walked back towards the sunset, the Salt Lake City skyline and Antelope Island in the distance pasted against the pink sky.

Farewell Grandpa Ploetz

This past Tuesday I received a call I’ve been expecting for a while.  In the same strong, calm voice she used throughout my childhood to reassure me there was nothing to fear, my mother told me my grandfather had passed away as he slept, never betraying, with even the slightest crack or break, that she had been with him the previous afternoon, said goodbye, and then waited by his side until the wee hours of the morning, and probably hadn’t slept since.

Grandpa did not speak a lot.  In fact, his voice was so gruff it almost sounded like it pained him to talk.  But when he did, it was often to tell a server if wasn’t finished yet as he white-knuckled his plate (Great Depression kid with a huge stomach), or to tell a joke.  He and my brothers and I shared an appreciation for big-breasted women and we loved sharing racy jokes.  This put my poor mother in the awkward situation of wanting her boys to bond with their grandfather yet disapproving of the topic.

When Grandpa laughed, his face would contort and his eyes would squint into a look of pure glee–an expression that beautifully contrasted his otherwise gruff, German demeanor.  When Ben laughs, he makes this exact same expression.

Once on a family trip to Buca di Beppo (our favorite restaurant while it was open in Omaha), my brothers and i discovered pictures of pin-ups adorned the walls of the men’s room.  We told Grandpa this and he immediately excused himself to go to the restroom.

Grandpa had a wide repertoire of jokes and euphemisms he had picked up during his time in the Army in WWII.  One of my favorites was “Used Beer Department”, which I referred to as “Used Mountain Dew Department” until I went to college.

He was impressively up-to-date on technology his whole life.  He was an early adopter of email and even had a Facebook account.  For a while, he was buying nearly every new Apple computer to come out.  He skipped over the first iMac (I imagine neon colors weren’t really his thing), but when he got the Sunflower iMac, I would make excuses to come up and play with it.

Oh how he used to pound the mouse and keyboard!  I’m not sure why he thought he had to hit the keys that hard.  Then again, I kind of do the same thing…

With a rich German ancestry and having been stationed in Belgium in WWII, Grandpa spoke fairly fluent German.  He was delighted when my brothers and I elected to take German language classes in high school and used to bark “Bitte leiten Sie die Kartoffeln!” across the table at us in true German style.  Alas, his dialect differed from the pasteurized German we had learned in school so we could never decipher what he was saying.

Grandpa loved his beer and wine.  Once on a family vacation in Arkansas, we visited a winery where my parents bought a few bottles and Grandpa bought an entire case.  A month or so later, he had finished all of his wine and was quite incredulous when he learned my parents had barely made a dent in theirs.

Christmas in Tahoe in 2011 was the last Christmas we’d spend together as an entire extended family.  We had 15 people crammed in Larry & Sonja’s cabin and it worked well enough.  I brought some of the stout I had brewed to share with everyone.  Grandpa took one sip and declared it good.  It is the best and most regarded compliment I’ve ever received.

I don’t think I fully realized how similar I am to Grandpa until after his death.  He was a man that never aged or became complacent mentally.  He was always learning, always asking tough questions his whole life.  I truly respect that.

As I drove home from work after receiving the news, I reminisced on all my memories of Grandpa and said to myself, as tears of joy streamed down my face, “My grandpa was totally bomb”.  I’ve never used those words to describe anyone in my entire life.  Why they first came out to describe a 92 year old man, I will never know.  But it’s totally true.



Christmas 2011 at Tahoe

Christmas Letter 2012

Dear Friend,

How have you been?  What is up with your Facebook profile pic?  Hilarious.  It’s hard to believe another year has gone by.  Things have been pretty good for Tara and me.  We didn’t do quite as much traveling as last year, but we managed to find other ways to spend exorbitant amounts of money.  In particular, on a new house.

Are you still living in that same place?  It’s been too long since we’ve been over there.  We’ve really enjoyed our house since we bought it and moved in back in April.  Aside from a tree branch falling on the roof during our first big snowstorm in October, we’ve been really fortunate as far as home maintenance goes.  The branch didn’t do any damage.  Rather, it ended up being small enough for the roofer to throw it off with his bar hands while I watched from the ground.  Pretty emasculating, but I hate ladders.

My brother, Ben, moved into the basement in August.  He just got out of the Marines and is now attending the University of Utah which is not far from our house.  He helps us out on the mortgage.  Also, my football knowledge has increased significantly since he’s made sure to have all the big games on.  You’d be impressed.

We’ll have to have you guys over some time.  You should come out for skiing.  The guest room gets a little lonely in the winter months.

Speaking of travel, did you go anywhere fun this summer?  We went on an Alaska cruise with my family in July.  It was awesome.  I would highly recommend it.  Just make sure you bring a wind breaker.  It can be friggin’ cold on deck.  Our favorite stop was Ketchikan.  It’s this sweet little fishing town surrounded by rainforest.  Someday we hope to return and backpack across the island.

We traveled back to the midwest twice for weddings over the summer and a third time for Tara’s Somer family reunion.  It seems like most everybody we know is married now.  I’d say it’s hard to believe, but I have 14,000 Sky Miles to remind me.  Not that I’m complaining: we love traveling back for weddings.

The Somer family reunion was a lot of fun.  Tara’s parents rented cabins on Lewis and Clark Lake for everybody.  Her dad had to say goodbye to the beloved family ski boat, which finally bit the dust that weekend, but we still got some skiing in with a rental.  We also held a small memorial service for Tara’s grandpa, Larry, who passed away in April.

We have a goal this year to go camping every month.  We started back in May and will hopefully continue through the winter hitting every month until next May.  The goal fosters creativity and hopefully when it’s all said and done, we’ll have camped some places we wouldn’t have otherwise.

I also did a little bit of solo “Mountain Manning” this past summer.  Tara was gone for a week on business, so I set up camp at a campground not far from the office.  For three days, I slept and ate in the mountains, coming down during the day to go to work.  I used a shower at the office to keep my coworkers from hating me.  It was quite the experience.  I would highly recommend you try it.

Have you done any good camping lately?  I keep thinking we should meet up in Wyoming for a weekend trip sometime.  There’s supposedly some good camping between Laramie and Cheyenne.  Vedauwoo, I believe it is called.

I hope you’re still enjoying your job.  Tara and I continue to feel rewarded by our careers.  Mine has not been without its share of excitement, however.  A year ago September, due to a growing complacency at my job, I developed a crazy plan to go to grad school for a Masters degree in engineering and MBA.  I had studied, passed the GRE, and been accepted into the program when it was announced in January that my company had been acquired by the largest DoD contractor in the world, Lockheed Martin.  Much change happened, including my job description, and suddenly work was exciting and fulfilling again.  I did not quit my job, nor did I show up for the first day of classes.  I have been tremendously pleased with this decision ever since.

In October, Tara and I officially joined the ranks of America: we bought a second automobile.  For the past 3 years, we shared our Dodge Stratus.  I’m sure you remember it–the paint chipping off the bumper and all.  At least the paint is no longer chipping.  It’s all chipped off!  Anyway, it now has to share the garage with a brand new Subaru Outback.

We were able to confirm that the Outback is indeed the king of road tripping vehicles by taking it back to Omaha for Thanksgiving with my family.  Four adults can ride comfortably for 13 hours with plenty of room for weekend bags in the back.  We also took it on it’s first camping trip down in St. George in early December.  This also went exceptionally well, except for when I learned that the car has a car alarm at 3:00 in the morning.

Well, I think that’s a fairly compete update.  We sincerely wish you and yours the best this holiday season and coming year.  If you’re searching for something, I hope you find it.  If you already found it, hold on to it and give thanks!  And if you ever need anything, don’t forget Tara and I are just a phone call away.  At the very least, we’re always available to listen.  I may even offer some unsolicited advice!  Happy Boxing Day!


The Newcombs


In Which We Find Ourselves Homeowners

It started out as a game.  Home ownership seemed like something “old” people do.  We just wanted to pretend.  We’d sit at the sun-drenched table on cold Saturday mornings looking at the real estate listings in the paper while sipping steaming coffee.  The newspaper would be excitedly passed back and forth as one found something to be shared, be it of interest or just comical.  Thus we began to learn the attributes we both like.

The game progressed to a new level when some friends of ours, who were seriously house hunting, shared a website with us their realtor used.  Suddenly, we were able to see myriad high resolution photos of a given home instead of just one tiny picture of the outside with a cheesy description.  The site also had a monthly payment estimator which, optimistic as it was, helped us realize that even us kids were capable of buying a home.

We started a list of “requirements” for our future home.  Many of the items were heavily inspired by our rental house:

  • No wood paneling
  • No carpet in the kitchen
  • No pet stains/odors
  • Windows that actually keep out the cold
  • Basement I could actually stand up straight in
  • Newer than 1930

Then there were some wish-list items as well:

  • Window in the master bath
  • Master on the same level as other bedrooms (I was hoping to locate screaming babies as far from us as possible, but Tara reminded me that we’d be responsible for caring for the screaming babies and it would make sense to have them closer to us)
  • Open floor plan
  • Good sized kitchen with plenty of counter space
  • Garage
  • Reasonably sized yard
  • Granite counters
  • Anything that wasn’t build in 1995
  • Close the the university and downtown
  • Good interstate access
  • Close to the mountains
  • Ready to go as is (Not a fixer-upper)

Towards the end of March, we found ourselves with a Saturday with nothing planned.  I suggested we go out and hit a couple open houses.  Tara was suspicious of the idea, worried that it would be awkward, but I coaxed her into it.  We looked at 4 homes that day.  None of the houses were that appealing to us, but at the third house we met Gordon, who would become our realtor.  

Within a matter of days, Gordon had us in touch with a mortgage company submitting materials to get pre-approved for a home loan.  The second he learned we were approved, he began sending us tons of real estate listings which we were to go through and select a few to go see.  This process took hours and was both exciting and trying at times.  One of us would find something we really liked and then the other would point out a practical reason why that wouldn’t work.

We went on home tours with Gordon on 2 separate occasions.  It was the 2nd time out, the 2nd house we saw that evening, that we found ourselves in a house that singlehandedly met every single wish list item.  Not a single compromise would be made on mine or Tara’s part on that house.  2 days later we put in an offer.  It was the 9th house we set foot in during our search that had only officially began a couple weeks prior.

The seller accepted the offer less than 24 hours later, before noon on Saturday and we found ourselves under contract.  Throughout the 4 week process of due diligence, we kept telling ourselves that something would fall through and we’d be back on the hunt, but nothing did, and before we knew it, they were telling us that we could pick a date to come in and close.


We’ve lived in our house for nearly 5 months now.  We are mostly settled in.  The summer was so incredibly busy, I wasn’t able to find time to sit down and write this until now.  The house continues to be amazing, although I think we’ve finally gotten used to it enough to not feel like we’re just living in someone’s vacation home.  My brother, Ben has taken residence in the basement while he attends the University of Utah.  A portion of his GI bill helps pay the mortgage.

Many consider buying a house a fairly major life accomplishment.  I personally am not sure taking on the biggest liability of one’s life is grounds for a “Congratulations”.  Yes, we did plan, work hard, and save up for a downpayment, but the rest was just luck and our uncanny ability to combine tastes and find big purchases that we fully agree on.  Congratulate us once we’ve got it paid off!


There is wine tasting in the pantry

The Kitchen


Tara thinks she is out of the photo

From the Living Room.  Can you find Tara?

She's just so cute

Tara tries to stay out of the pictures


Master Bedroom


Master Bath with our IKEA spa bench

15% More Time

Tonight I complain about time, or the lack thereof.  I spent the last couple years of college looking forward to all the time I would have once I graduated.  8 hours a day, 5 days a week, no homework, weekends free.  Sounded like vacation at the time.  Now I look back and laugh.  I totally had it tough in college.  Chilling out at the Coffee House for a couple hours every morning.  Hitting the gym for an hour in between classes.  Lazy, hung-over saturday afternoons.  I was such a workaholic back then.

Perhaps Tara’s and my problem now is having jobs that we care about too much.  8 hour days gradually turned into 9 hour days.  This is saying something because I remember when an 8 hour day actually only constituted about 5 hours of real work.  So now we find ourselves wishing we could have even 15% more time.  Funny how we humans always need 15% more.  15% more money, 15% more time, or in the case of Warren Jeffs, 15% more teenage wives.

I’ve tried to talk Tara into hiring a butler/maid that takes care of all our chores for us so we can just play when we get home from work.  That will probably never happen, but it’s fun to dream.  Then again, maybe I could put that time spent dreaming towards something useful…

A Tribute to My Mother

It is Mother’s Day, and in an effort to honor mothers everywhere, I have decided to put off all chores and relax all day.

I actually have quite the list of things to accomplish today, but topping the list is writing this post about why my mom is awesome.  And don’t worry, Mom, you will be getting a real gift and a phone call in addition to this.

One of the more interesting things about leaving home and becoming a real “adult” is you are constantly reminded how much your mother was right about.  I can remember when I was 16, had just gotten my drivers license, and was so eager to get behind the wheel and explore.  Having been restricted to a radius about the house accessible by bike for all my life, the possibilities of having a 4-cylinder engine at my disposal was teenage boy heaven.  My mother, avid reader of Bottom Line, a conservative, everything kills you, publication, was slow to increase my freedom.  She cited my underdeveloped Prefrontal Lobe and claimed my judgement not what it should be to operate a 1000 lb. automobile.  Erroneous! I told her, although I didn’t know that word yet.  I tried to convince her that I was not like the statistics and that I had it together.  But my mother held firm.  She did however, slowly increase the radius in which I was allowed to drive.  First just incredibly short joy rides and to and from school, and then longer distances for my paper route.

Years later, something would click in my mind and I would fully realize the dangers of vehicles, and the whole Prefrontal Lobe argument would suddenly make sense.  Although I still refuse to trust anything that is printed on Bottom Line, I have to concede that my mom was, in fact, correct.

I have utmost respect for my mom for letting me take risks in spite of her greatest fears.  And I now understand how hard it must have been for her to hand over those keys back then.  But those risks and that freedom helped me grow into the person I am today.  

  • Engineering:  When climbing trees, ensure the branch is strong enough to support your weight or you WILL fall.
  • Probability:  Hitting golf balls in the vicinity of windows WILL result in a broken window.
  • Finances:  Broken windows cost money to fix.
  • Chivalry:  Staring at hot joggers for too long while driving is never a good idea.
  • Physics:  Driving too fast on icy roads will likely put you in a snow drift due to reduced friction.  Having your friends sit on the hood while you spin the wheels increases friction and aids in getting out.
I, of course, am biased, but I’d say she did a pretty good job.  To this day, she is one of the first people I call for advice on big life decisions.  She can play devil’s advocate like none other, and I value her knowledge and experience (although sometimes I wish she would just tell me what to do).
Thanks for everything, Mom!  I love you!
P.S. You’ll get your gift when I see you next week.  That is because I want to give it to you in person, not because I haven’t gotten one yet…
IMG 0011
This picture has nothing to do with this post, but it is all sorts of awesome.  What the frig is Garin doing?  And Benjamin’s wind  suit is more epic than I know how to say.

AbsolutelyAndrew Categories Explained

It has come to my attention lately that my categories might be slightly less than intuitive.  I have therefore decided to share the inspiration for each one such that you won’t be scratching your head next time you see “Is your wife interested in photography?” at the end of a post.

A Day in the Life: This one is obviously stolen from the Beatles song.  Do you get shivers hearing John’s eerie wail?  I still do.  This category typically contains narratives about things we’ve been up to.

Crooked Crowbar: This is for DIY projects.  I just like the way it sounds–an eloquent alliteration, if you will.

Here’s What I think of That: No fun backstory here–just a category for my opinionated ramblings.

Is your wife interested in Photography?: Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink–do you get it now?  One of my most favorite Monty Python sketches.  This is, of course, the photography category.

Little Nuggets of Wisdom: This is a posh category reserved for when I write something that I think is smart.

LMFAO!!!: Seeing this written in response to something has always greatly amused me.  For times when a simple “LOL” just doesn’t quite express it.  These are my attempts at being funny.

The Great Outdoors: This one is obvious


New Stuff

For some time, I’ve been intending to add a page of my old poetry, and I finally did so!  It was an incredibly frustrating process trying to copy and past all these weird-ass fonts into a single document (Evidently I used to think it was cool to write sonnets in gradually increasing text size).  And for some reason, MarsEdit doesn’t like to go from Times New Roman to Helvetica.  So it’s a little kludgy still, but I was so fed up, I just posted it.

I’ve made a couple exciting new additions to the AbsolutelyAndrew Endorsed Blogs list. Be sure to check these out.

Lastly, there is now a history drop down.  This way, if you’re racking your brain trying to figure out what that AbsolutelyAndrew post was that you want to pull a quote from for that important business proposal you’re working on, you can jump to the month you think it was posted in!  Can you say innovative?

Lastly, Dooce is getting divorced.  WTF?  Your readers got you through postpartum depression, but they couldn’t help with this?  Come on, Heather.