Love to all. Even you.

…I’m pretty certain you’d be mildly uncomfortable. I just ran, so I’m sitting here in silver running boxer-briefs (shiny!), gym socks and some sweet Asics Kayano XI sneakers. I’m also covered in sweat. Like seriously. I don’t stink, however. At least I don’t think so.

When I got home from work today, I weight 173.6 pounds! I haven’t seen that weight for years and years.

The wife and kids have gone to the in-laws, a few days before our big trip to Montauk. I’ll be joining them on Saturday. I’m home alone. They called to say goodnight and it was painfully cute.

I think I’ll get crazy and watch the Daily Show before I go to bed.

Who loves you, oh, internet reader? I do. Come here and give us a hug. Don’t be shy.

Check this:

I got invited to a bachelor party. In Montreal. I asked my wife what she thought about me going. She said:

“You can go, and you can touch the stripper’s boobies.”

Then she said:

“But you can NOT put your dick between them.”

Needless to say, I was utterly stunned.

So, I went to my favorite massage lady after hurting my shoulder, and it not getting better. We were talking about my new nutritionist hippie lady, and it turns the person who runs the nutrition/yoga program is a friend of the massage therapist.

Anyway. I mentioned that I had had pneumonia once and bronchitis three times over the last year… and that my psoriasis had spiked recently.

She said: “That’s interesting. You know Chinese medicine dicates that lung problems express themselves in the skin, and the lungs are tied to a specific emotion: grief.”

What fascinates me about this is that my lung problems started up somewhat concurrently with the seriously bad craziness with my parents. I can’t help but wonder if the results of his last episode of borderline behavior (police involvement, their moving without telling me, etc), have left me a bit fucked up, in terms of the slow realization that, in spite of how much damage they did to my wife and life, I’m incredibly, incredibly sad that I may not see them again.

I have come to realize that my eldest son has a better moral compass than I do. Or at the very least, I ascribe to him a lesser degree of behavioral self-regulation than he really has. I’ve found, recently, that when I think he’s behaving badly, he’s actually often not: he’s reacting to other’s behavior that I haven’t witnessed.

I need to wield that judgment stick a little more carefully.

Quitting sugar gives me urges a lot like quitting nicotine did in 2000. Frankly, I’m a little suprised at this. At my oldests’ birthday party (which was today), I was hit with an unbelievable urge for a piece of the ice cream cake. I actually decided to HAVE it. But then I didn’t. WTF?

Went for my first over-10k run since this latest bout of brochitis. It felt pretty good, but my left lung is clearly working better than my right. It feel so /tight/. I did 11k, and then got ready for the party. July 10 is my next half-marathon, so I’ve got to get cookin.

Best party moment: my daughter climbing the rock wall. She’s five, she’s brave, and and she climbed higher than most of the boys. And when she let go, she kicked off the wall, just like a pro. I played Air Hockey with her, too… she’s so intense and joyful and focused it just makes me burst with love to watch her.

My oldest was clearly in his element. I think he had a blast. We spent a lot of time together today… just the two of us. It’s amazing how wonderfully we get along when it’s just the two of us. We sat at the counter in the diner, and he said to me: “When we’re alone, I like being with you more than anyone.” That’s a VERY complex statement, when you think about it.

Okay. My kids need help setting up their new toys. Ah, birthday season!