Tardy Thursday

Oddly enough, I wasn't tardy today. So I probably shouldn't have used that title.

Here's the thing, though: my boss is fixated on 9 o'clock in the morning. People have to be logged in at work by 9 or he gets upset. But here's the rub: "logged in" doesn't mean working.

In fact, there are plenty of days when people are at work, but have forgotten to log in to the "chat" system, and so they don't show up on his computer. So he assumes they're not there and gets upset.

There are also the people who do get in before 9, log in, and then go do other things. Like socializing for 20 minutes. Or going out to get coffee. Or - as a few people do - have simply not logged out of chat the night before, so they appear to have been online for hours, even if they're not in the office. Of course, he has no problems with that because they're logged in so they must be working, right?

He also has no problem with the people who take hour-long (or longer) lunchbreaks, or multiple smoke breaks (we're talking 6 or 7 in eight hours) during the day.

But as one of the non-smokers, who doesn't go out to lunch for hours and doesn't stand around in the office chatting, I'm still watched over and glared at when I'm not available in chat by 9 on the dot. Doesn't matter if I'm at work and doing other work-related things away from my desk, either. Doesn't matter if no one wants to contact me via chat. Just matters that I'm not there.

So I do my best to be in at 9. I rush the pup's walks on days when we're running a little behind. I push the speed limit on the freeway. I coast into my desk and turn on the computer before I have my coat on.

And I really hope, some day, to once again be treated like an adult.

Travel Tuesday - Potholes

When I took my car in because I was getting a bit of a "shimmy" at high speeds, I was informed that my tires were not only unbalanced, but that I had at least one bent tire rim.

When I was telling my parents about my bent tire rim situation (it's going to cost me a few hundred dollars to have them replaced), my mother said "How do you bend a tire rim?" And I explained it frequently happens when you're driving over bumpy or hole-y streets. She told me she couldn't imagine the roads being that bad.

When my folks were in town last week, they told me that the streets in our area are worse than anything they've driven on in quite a while. And they had no doubt that the streets would explain the bent tire rim.

I really don't know that there's any point to this blog post. I don't have a great wrap-up for it. I just know that I've been driving around and flinching at every pothole, worrying that I might lose my car in one of them. And, yes, I try the "lift my foot off the floor to make sure I don't hit the pothole so hard" maneuver.

It almost makes me miss the snow. At least that filled the holes.

Movie Monday - "Is It Just Me?"

This week's movie is not something you're going to find in the theaters. I'm not sure, honestly, if it was ever actually in the theaters. I found it on Netflix - probably after seeing a trailer for it on some other movie.

"Is It Just Me?" is a gay romantic comedy. It's a comedy of errors where our shy hero accidentally starts flirting online with someone who thinks he (hero) is actually his openly sexier roommate. (There's a whole reason how that makes sense, but it doesn't matter, here.)

Anyway, so Blaine flirts with Xander by accident. Xander wants to meet. Blaine asks his roommate (whom Xander is expecting because of the online photo issue) to stand in for him. And, well, it all kind of goes pear-shaped from there.

But, yes, it's a romantic comedy so it's supposed to do that.

The supporting cast is fun (one of my favorite characters is the older gentleman Xander is renting a room from), and the movie just kind of bumbles along until its eventual conclusion. And, no surprise, the conclusion is exactly what you're expecting.

Here's the thing, though: I've been renting gay romantic comedies for ages. There used to be a small "Independent Film" section in the Blockbuster near where I lived in Baltimore and they had both Indie films and Gay/Lesbian films all in that section. Each time I'd go in to rent a movie I'd get one mainstream movie and one non-mainstream one, just so I could make sure they knew those were being rented.

That was at least 10 years ago (probably more like 15, actually), and the gay movies were just so... depressing. Almost all of them had really low production values. Only about half of them had decent actors (and not even all of the bad actors were nice to look at). Even fewer of the movies could make it more than 20 minutes without blatant sex - which seems odd when the movie is supposed to be a lighthearted romantic comedy. And, of course, about every third one had a main character "dealing with" being gay instead of simply... well... being.

"Is It Just Me?" had actors who could actually deliver lines while walking. They were mostly clothed for much of the movie (the "cowboy" on the poster only wears that outfit for one scene - and he works as a dancer, so it makes some sense). The plot was predictable - but in a good way. And, believe it or not, the hero's angst was life-related, not the other way around.

I don't expect you'll all go out and rent this, but it's a nice piece of fluff movie making. The kind of movie that studios have been making for straight audiences for years. Who knows? Maybe the gay film industry is growing up, too.

Overall score: A+. The movie didn't try to be anything other than what it is. And, okay, the actors weren't bad to look at, either.

A Clean Bill of Health

**Warning: If you're at all squeamish, you might just want to stop at the headline.**

Do you remember when I mentioned back last fall that the pup had apparently come to us with worms? Let's see, there were tape, whip, round, and... last but certainly not least... pin worms.

We treated the first ones pretty successfully and pretty quickly. But those little pin worms... well... they resulted in their own special kinds of treatments.

We got to add powdered meds for those into her food 3 times the first week, 3 times 3 weeks later, and - again - 3 times 3 months later. Then, after waiting 2 more weeks, we had to take another "fecal sample" to the vet for testing.

Well, I am happy to say that, after almost 5 months of treating her for all of those fun variants of the intestinal parasite family, we were informed just this afternoon that she has clean poop.

Ah, how the world view changes when you have a pet in the house. I'm sure it's a bit like this when you have a kid. Although I suspect that kids are messier.

Dressed To Impress...?

I know I don't say a lot of positive things about my work. One thing I do enjoy, however, is the fact that the office is casual. Well... I don't love that the work atmosphere is so completely casual, but I do like that the attire is casual.

That means that, in the summer, I get to wear shorts. Throughout the year, people show up in t-shirts and jeans. And I've even worn a hooded sweatshirt to work a few times. Of course, this poses a bit of a problem if you decide to dress up.

Let's take today, for instance.

I got in to work early, because I needed to take a long break around lunchtime to go to a funeral. And, yes, I was in a white shirt, black tie, and grey sportcoat. (I had pants and shoes and stuff on, too - don't worry.)

The first person I saw in the office was someone who knew why I was coming in dressed up. She looked at me and said "Oooo... ohhhh" and her face went from "Wow, you're dressed up" to "Oh. Sorry you're dressed up" all in that time. (Later she complimented me, saying that I looked like I should have been in "Reservoir Dogs" - except that I needed a gun.)

The next few people gave me the "Wow, you look good, what's the occasion?" question, and I thanked each of them, then explained the situation. This, of course, led to back-pedalling and apologies. They really didn't need to apologize - I like being told I look nice - but I appreciated it, even so.

Finally, someone came walking up who hadn't noticed my clothing, earlier. He stopped about 6 feet from my desk, scrunched up his face, and then said "You look like you're going to a funeral." I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I simply said "I am." (Let the back-pedalling commence.)

I can't wait until the next time I go in dressed up and someone asks if I've got a job interview. Please let that happen soon. (Oh. Sorry. I was supposed to be saying positive things about my job, wasn't I...?)

Shocking. Just Shocking.

Let's say you've got a microwave and you need to plug it in, but the cord won't reach the wall outlet. You might consider plugging it into a nice big power strip to give the cord a little extra length. It will probably work just fine.

Let's say you've got a microwave and a toaster you need to plug in, but the cords won't reach the wall outlet. You might consider plugging both of them into a nice big power strip to give the cords a little extra length. They'll probably work just fine - especially since the toaster doesn't pull too much power.

Let's say you've got a microwave and a toaster you need to plug in, but the cords won't reach the wall outlet, and then you get another microwave which you put in the same general area. You might consider plugging all three of them into a nice big power strip to give the cords a little extra length. They might be okay. Especially if you don't have both microwaves running at the same time... in a crowded office which has two microwaves because so many people eat lunch at the same time.

Let's say you've got two microwaves and a toaster that are plugged into a power strip because their cords won't reach the wall outlet, and then someone installs a brand new refrigerator and doesn't pay attention to the wall outlet and plugs it into the power strip. That might be okay. Or not.

In fact, it might - at some point when the microwaves suddenly both turn off at the same time - cause the toaster to throw sparks.

And, later that same day, when the toaster has been unplugged and the two microwaves are both being used and the refrigerator kicks in, the fuse in the not-actually-so-big power strip might make a rather loud popping noise and shut off everything.

And, if that happens, let's really hope that the next person who brings in a power strip simply sets it off to the side while, instead, plugging things into the wall outlet.

Bumblestick!

At work today, someone sent me a message stating:

"This day is (insert profanity)."

Me being me (as I find it's really always best to be in a a very Winnie-the-Pooh sort of way), I energetically responded:

"Oh. Fun! I've always loved 'Choose your own profanity' stories!"

And, in deference to that, I decided to make up my own profanity for that sentence. The word I chose was the past tense of the verb "bumblestick," as in

"This day is well and truly bumblesticked."

When I posed the "Choose your own profanity" option to friends of mine, I got some wildly interesting responses. Everything from the... umm... mundane (ie. "scrotum") to the ridiculous (ie. "bobbins ... [and] ... buttercheeks") and a bunch of things not only between but far beyond.

It seems that, when given the chance for them to be them (again, a very wise thing to be), they all came up with much better swear words than the standard few.

I tend to really like my friends. They're much less fluggerstangled than some people I know.

----

Okay. So... If you were going to choose your own profanity du jour, what would YOU choose?

No Movie Monday

I don't think I'll ever understand our two auxiliary cable boxes.

For no apparent reason, one or the other of them will "lose connection" and start flashing and/or flickering causing it to be impossible to actually watch TV. Instead, we get a nice notice on the screen saying "Your cable box seems to have lost its connection. Please call ... We apologize for the inconvenience."

I honestly think that this has happened to one or the other of them each week since Christopher and I got the new cable set-up last summer. Last time this happened it was the box in the basement. Now, in all honestly, we seldom use the TV in the basement. But, when I'm getting ready in the morning, I do like to be able to check out the weather and such. Which is hard to do if the TV is simply showing a black screen with white writing on it.

Today, however, it's the TV adapter box in the bedroom that was dead when I first saw it. So I unplugged it and replugged it (in basic "IT 101" style). Then it started to flash - which is what the one downstairs had been doing when I discovered it the last time.

I'm giving it a few hours to see if it will come back up before I waste my time calling the company.

I really wish I didn't enjoy TV so much, because I'm sure Christopher and I would save a decent amount of money if we dumped our cable and just upped our Netflix and such. But I really do prefer to watch the news (and the weather, and the cartoons, and almost anything) on TV, instead of on my computer.

Here's hoping we have TV come Tuesday. I don't think my blood pressure can handle having to call the company again.

Look! Up in the sky! It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's...

Who came up with the name "Supermoon"?

We've got clouds tonight, so there's no visible moon, super or otherwise.

I have no way to see whether or not it is wearing a cape.

I don't know if the Man in the Supermoon has an "S" on his chest tonight.

I'm not sure if the snowbanks are going to have a higher tide than usual, if the banks of Lake Superior will be rocked by waves, or if water left in the sink tonight will develop tidal pulls.

I do know that, last night, I had technicolor dream after technicolor dream (and you were there, and you were there, and you were there...) and woke up tired. (In case you're wondering, I was in New York City for one of the dreams, travelling across Central Park, meeting a friend's new baby, standing in a square in front of a metal-wrapped building with the call letters of a local Minneapolis TV station... and then that one started to get weird...)

I know that a lot of people do find that the world - and hospital emergency rooms and police forces - get a little stranger on regular full moons, but I haven't heard anything - yet - about how the Supermoon might alter that.

And I know that the moon is supposed to appear 14% larger tonight than... well... no one seems to say what it's 14% larger than. Is it appearing 14% larger than it was on the last full moon? For those who can see it, as we're looking at it at its apogee, is it simply 14% larger than it looks when it's at its perigee (I love some science words)? Does this take into account that it looks HUGE every night when it comes up at the horizon, but looks smaller as it moves higher in the sky?

Does this mean that Superman is actually only 14% stronger or faster or more able to leap tall buildings than the average person?

Is Super-duper simply 14% better than duper?

And how do you measure 14% of "califragilisticexpialidocious" so that you can add it on to make it super? (Think about it. You'll get it in a moment.)

I do know that tomorrow is the start of spring (which, in Minnesota, means 50 degrees and rain tomorrow, but 30 degrees and snow on Wednesday). Tomorrow is also the start of the Astrological new year. And - assuming the world survives - the day after the Supermoon.

So... Happy New Year. Happy Spring. And don't forget to...

Look! Up in the sky! It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's... Supermoon!

Thotful Thursday - Streetwise

For the most part, I drive the same path home every night. And, also for the most part, it's at the same time.

Mostly, that doesn't mean anything. After all, there are so many variables that you can't expect people or vehicles to be in the same place day after day.

Except that I've seen the same guy at least three times in the past two or three weeks. He's an older man with a walker, and he's been at the same corner - crossing the same direction - each time I've seen him.

It's a fairly busy street, and people mostly just drive past him and he stands off to the side waiting. But I've been lucky enough to see him in time to stop and let him cross. I don't think he's realized that it's been me doing that multiple times. And, for the most part that's perfectly fine. But it would be nice kind of have a "waving" relationship with him.

In the meantime, I'll just try to keep coming up to that corner in time to stop traffic and let him make his way across the street. Somehow that makes me feel like my drive home is more than just... well... a drive home.

Quotable "Glee"

I'm sure it comes as no surprise to any of you that I am an avid "Glee" watcher.

I've had my weeks when I love the show, and weeks when I was really not sure what they were doing.

Tonight, though, as one of the characters was trying to explain to another why his attitude had recently changed, he said:

"There is a moment, when you say to yourself: 'Oh. There you are. I've been looking for you forever.'"

And, in that one statement, I was reminded why I love the show so much.

The fact that that was part of exchange between two gay teens wasn't even really important in the show, and I think that's another part of why it was so powerful. So intriguing. So much the reason that I love watching "Glee."

Movie Monday - Beastly

Let me point out that the title does not say "Beastly Movie Monday." In fact, today is rather nice. The sun is out. It's above freezing. It's kind of nice. All of which has nothing to do with this week's movie: "Beastly."

Of course, I really don't need to say too much about "Beastly." After all, you already know about 90% of what there is to know about "Beastly." It's the classic "Beauty and the Beast" story. You know: Guy is all about vanity. Guy pisses off the wrong woman. Guy gets turned into a beast and given 1 year for someone to love him in spite of his appearance. Guy gets sung to by the cutlery. (Oh. Wait. That's only in the Disney version.)

But here's the thing: Sometimes, when you go into a situation assuming you know everything, that very same everything can surprise you.

Did the movie bring out new twists and turns that were completely unexpected? No. But did it give some interesting tweaking that was fun? Yes. The "beast" is turned into a beast by one of the Olson twins. Yes. One of those Olson twins. Mary-Kate to be exact. And, you know what? She was good.

The staff in the beast's home had backstories and personalities, too. And, somewhere in the middle of the movie, they really started to matter. And you started to root for them almost as much as for the beast and his love interest.

Oh. About the two central characters - they were fine. Alex Pettyfer did pretty well to give us emotion from under some really incredible special effects make-up. (Honestly, his beast make-up really was cool.) Vanessa Hudgens was perfectly fine as the young woman who got under his skin. Would the movie have survived if they were the only two in it? No. But were they good enough to hold it together? Yes.

So... Would I recommend it? If you're looking for an easy-to-follow romance, then sure.

Overall grade: B. It kept me interested, even knowing how it would end, which - to me - means it was pretty decent.

Sunday Sun

I know I'm supposed to be all excited that the time change has happened. I'm supposed to be excited that we're going to have an extra hour of sun in the evenings.

But, you know, I've been okay with the gradual changes in the evenings. I'm fine with the sun not being squarely in my eyes when I'm driving home from work. And, frankly, I've been enjoying having the sun up when I'm getting up in the morning.

Starting today, we're back to getting up in the mostly-dark. It'll be a few weeks before it's light when the alarm goes off in the morning, again.

Now if only the spring weather would catch up with the spring time change...

Friday Food - The Puppy Version

After about three months of having our dog on an incredibly restrictive diet - including entirely hypo-allergenic food and treats - we were told this week by the vet that they've concluded that she does not have any major food allergies. (Sorry. Major run-on sentence, there.)

I'm not sure if the three months of abstinence was harder on her or on us. After all, she's a dog who also needs to take pills, so we had to get creative on how to get her to eat them. We actually got some of the hypo-allergenic moist dog food, which - as we were warned - kind of has a "canned cranberry jelly" consistency. But it did work as a medium in which we could put her pills.

As of this week, though, we're back to being able to give her her pills folded into jerky-type treats and - more importantly - peanut butter. If you've been paying attention (or if you did last fall), you know that she is a huge peanut butter fan. So taking that away from her was not fun.

Over the past couple of months, when I would be putting my lunch together in the morning, it was hard to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with her sitting on the floor with her big brown eyes watching my every move. After a while I gave up and just reserved the PBJs for mornings when I was really craving them, so that my craving could trump her stare.

Thankfully, as of this week, I can eat my peanut butter toast with relative impunity.

To celebrate, as soon as I finish this posting I plan to sit down with a jar of peanut butter and the container of (chocolate) Nestle Quik and a glass of milk. (What? You don't know how those all tie together? You spoon a little bit of peanut butter, dip it into the Quik, and eat it. Then you drink the milk to wash it down.)

Sure, I'll still get the forlorn look from across the coffee table, but the guilt factor will be mitigated knowing that she had her peanut butter earlier today - and she didn't share at all.

Karma du Jour - The Pull-up Bar

Once upon a time in a far off kingdom known as the place I work, one of the people we refer to as "those annoying people" decided that it would be a good idea to bring in a pull-up bar which he hadn't been using at home.

It was one of those pull-up bars that kind of self-mount in any door frame. The weight of the person using it forces it in place and makes it hold tight. Assuming your door is of a normal depth and width.

So it was that, for about three weeks, annoying person would nag and cajole and pressure other people in the office to use the pull-up bar. And, in the middle of the day the rest of us would occasionally - out of the blue - hear heavy breathing, loud grunting, and "unnnhhh... oooooohhh... haaaaaa..." sounds that made us all wonder what was going on in the annoying people's office. And whether they were using appropriate protection. Or, rather, it didn't make us wonder, but it did make the clients we were speaking to on the phone or, worse, in the conference room.

And it came to pass that, well, people kind of started getting used to it. Except for those of us who don't get to wear headphones, so we were forced to hear all of this when it was going on.

Then, one day - we'll call it yesterday - one of the annoying people was walking past my desk complaining to someone else that he had hit himself in the face. He was, in fact, bleeding in his mouth from the impact of cheek against teeth. I honestly figured it had something to do with a coffee cup or something, until one of my co-workers said to me "Guess what annoying person just did to hurt himself?"

I pondered with all of my pondering might, and came up with the funniest thing I could think of. "He hit himself in the face with the pull-up bar," I said, taking a drink of water.

"Yep."

I almost spit the water across the room. Annoying guy had, in fact, been hit in the face when the pull-up bar made for doors of normal depth and width came undone from the very non-normal door frame.

Annoying guy then spent the rest of the day complaining to everyone around (whether they would listen or not) that he had hurt himself on the pull-up bar. Saying that he was lightheaded and might need to go home. And vowing that he would NEVER use that blasted thing again unless it was bolted to the wall, so don't even think of asking him.

I know it's wrong to laugh at his pain. But, after hearing annoying guy badgering everyone in the office to try the pull-up bar - and having been one of those people simply unable to do pull-ups in high school - I do think that the Karmic circle is just too good to pass up.

I promise to stop laughing about it.

Soon.

Mayhap tomorrow.

Or possibly the next day...

In a Flash

Did you know that there is a version of migraine headache which doesn't actually include the headache part? Actually, there are a few different versions, and they cause havoc with things like your sense of smell and your sense of sight. (Isn't the brain just wacky?)

How do I know this? Because I get those last two versions from time to time.

The smell one is a little annoying, but not awful. I mean, just because something doesn't smell quite right doesn't mean that it will throw off your day.

But the one where your sight gets messed up. That one's not fun. And it tends to show up at all the worst times. Like when you're driving down the road and suddenly you've got flashing patterns in your eyesight - frequently just where the rearview mirror should be.

Or, like earlier today, when I was trying to do some proofreading at work and couldn't see sections of my screen through the wordless marquis lights. At least, in that case, I wasn't on the road.

I'm lucky, though, because these don't involve the actual painful headache problems, and - at least so far - they're usually pretty short-lived.

I just wish they'd be gone in a flash.

Movie Monday - Just Go With It

No. The title of this post does not mean you just need to play along with what I'm writing. That's actually the name of the movie we went to last week: "Just Go With It."

It was kind of a toss-up movie. I'm not a big Adam Sandler fan. The person I was going with isn't a big Jennifer Aniston fan (although I am). But we both wanted a comedy last week Tuesday, and it was at a good time for us to get to it.

So... plot... Umm... Well... there's this guy in Los Angeles who meets women by pretending he's married. And that works really well (insert comments about our society's morality), until he meets someone who really likes him who actually doesn't want to be "the other woman." So he makes up a shrew whom he is divorcing, and explains away the ring.

Which would be a really short movie. Except that the woman wants to get his soon-to-be ex-wife's permission before dating him. So he talks his office manager person into playing his wife. And, eventually, hilarity ensues when they - through the miracles of a convoluted plot - end up in Hawaii with her two kids, his best friend, and - of course - her college rival.

What I really need to point out, though, is that some hilarity actually did ensue. I mean... if you could see through the potty humor, it got pretty funny. And it also got a little sweet.

I know I've panned some movies because they tried to be more than one thing. The comedies that wanted to be romantic. The action movies that wanted to be funny. But, honestly, when we got to the end of the movie, I was okay with the funny and with the sweet. Kind of like one of those Lemonhead candies with the sugar on the outside but the tartness on the inside. Or, well, not really like that, but sort of.

Overall grade: B. And, you know, some movies really just are Bs. Not that they're bad. They're just never going to be good.

Pregnant Pause

Let me start by confirming that we are not - I repeat NOT - pregnant.

But some friends of ours are. And we got to see them today, even though the doctor has apparently told them that their family could grow any day now.

It's kind of exciting when people you know are going to be incredible parents are about to have a kid.

Strange and scary, but exciting, too.

And, wow... Very glad it's not us.

That Whole "Fiscally Responsible" Thing

Lately I've started back down the road to financial solvency, fiscal responsibility, and frank talks about money and savings and all that stuff.

It's kind of strange for me to have to pay so much attention to it. You see I've always been a "grown-up" in my life. While other people were partying through their teens and twenties (and thirties and...), I was usually the responsible one who was acting as designated driver. Okay, yes, Christopher has always insisted that there's a five-year-old in me trying to get out, but for the most part I'm the grown-up.

Which makes the fact that my finances have always been slightly out of whack that much harder for me to admit to. So I've watched my spending, and tried to keep things in line. But I've worked in the Non-Profit Arts, and I was unemployed for over a year (followed by more time of underemployment), and my savings went away and my credit card bills went up, and I've had to start re-analyzing my money.

So, at Christopher's recommendation, I started meeting with a Financial Advisor a few months ago. I was worried that it was going to be like going to the dentist and being nagged for not flossing - or going to the doctor and being reminded that you shouldn't eat carbs - but the advisor Christopher recommended is really cool. She's about my age (probably closer to Christopher's), and didn't even flinch when I told her I didn't have any idea the answers to some of her questions. She just kind of nodded and chatted, and said she could work with what I had.

And, just three months into the new year, I'm already starting to see a difference. It has felt a bit like going on a diet. Not a starvation diet, but just a trim-down diet. For instance, I talked myself out of buying Easter candy at the grocery store today, but I still bought flowers (seen above). But I figure that's better than going into therapy for my winter blues, so it works out in my favor.

I've started watching more closely the times that I take my wallet out, and for what. I've already gotten pretty good at not spending money (unemployment followed by low pay will do that to a person), but now I've started trying to spend my money in a more conscientious way. I'm looking at a monthly budget, and thinking of what I'm spending and what each purchase means to my bottom line.

And, you know what? It's kind of strangely exciting. (Oh, and if you live in the Twin Cities and want to know who my advisor is, let me know.)

Happy St. David's Day!

I realize it's almost over (or way past over, depending on when you're seeing this), but March 1st is/was St. David's Day.

In case you're not sure who that is, St. David is the patron saint of Wales. No, not of whales, but of Wales. (Anyone know who the patron saint of whales is?)

If you're feeling even more confused, now, Wales is one of the countries that make up Great Britain. In other words, like Ireland has St. Patrick, Wales has St. David.

Appropriate things to do on St. David's Day:

1) Speak Welsh. Start with "Dydd Dewi Sant Hapus" which means "Happy Saint David's Day!" (and... umm... no. I don't have any idea how it's pronounced.)

2) Buy some leeks. You know, those oniony things with the wide green leaves. Wear them on your lapel. Or your hat. Or, well, maybe just eat them.

3) If leeks aren't really your style, buy some daffodils. Prettier on the lapel. Bouncier on your hat. Nicer in a vase. Not -- I'm guessing here -- as tasty in soup.

4) Sport some red, white, and green. Just don't go to an Italian restaurant, because you'll have to keep explaining to people that you're not celebrating their flag.

5) Fly the Welsh flag, and watch the dragon flap in the wind. Don't know what the Welsh flag looks like? It's this:

(cool, hunh?)

Happy Saint David's Day, y'all!