Pointless Possibly Not-so-short-term Life Goal

I have a new found short term life goal. Another one, you ask? Yes. Another one. This one is just for the fun of it. About two weeks ago, thanks to the awesomeness that is Netflix, I watched "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" starring Nicolas Cage. You see, I never really thought about it, but it just so happens that I love Nicolas Cage. It seems that every movie I've seen with him in it, I seem to enjoy. Even if the movie itself is not so hot, I always seem to enjoy his presence in the movie. So "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" was so enjoyable (buyable, I must say) that I decided to to watch "It Could Happen To You" a couple of days later. Also a really buyable movie. And yes, I'm aware that 'buyable' isn't really a word. So that's when I had my silly little light bulb moment. What if I decided to watch every movie with Nicolas Cage in it? How fun would that be? I'm aware that some of his movies aren't exactly up my alley, strictly speaking in the genre language. But, nevertheless, I have decided that I am making it a point to watch every Nicolas Cage movie (starring roles...no bit parts I think) that he has done. As silly and ridiculous as it is, I'm really excited about this. So starting now, I will be watching all his movies. I'll keep you posted...perhaps I shall call it Operation Nicolas Cage? No? We shall see. Let Operation: Nicolas Cage begin. Any suggestions?

Editing without the red pen

When you send in a book manuscript to an agent, one of the most common things I'm reading is that you must send in your most polished piece of work. So before I started the grueling task of agent hunting, I pulled out the ol' book and began another nice long edit. Let me first say this: I am not an editor. So I edit to the best of my ability in hopes that I'm catching all of the little flaws and cleaning up where cleaning needs to be. After thirteen denials (and potentially more as they don't always respond with a rejection), I've decided that I might as well take all my best efforts and rethink them. It's a win-win situation because I have been meaning to dust off the printed copy and re-read it in preparation for writing the sequels. Why write a sequel if you're not published you ask? Simple. The story is in my head and it's begging to be immortalized in ink. Is immortalized too strong a word? Perhaps. So as I'm reading through it, I am hoping to gear up for some good bonding time with my characters. Oh, and the couch has been missing my butt planted on it for several hours a night as I tick away at the keyboard to the wee hours in the morning. Though I am 'editing' while I read, it's more of a mental edit. I really haven't busted out the red pen. Hey. I only have one printed copy. I'd like to hold onto that until I can print another one. And red ink all over it doesn't give me the happy joy-joy feeling that I like. Weird. I know. I have taken a pencil and lightly crossed out the typos, but so far I haven't found any places that I would make severe changes to. This is the third...maybe fourth edit. Perhaps when I get my first partial/full manuscript request, I can say that I have polished it until shiny and bright. I'm (not so) patiently waiting for that day.

Making the House Fit

When we moved into our house nearly five years ago, we didn't take into consideration that our family would grow. Mostly I was just pregnant and about to pop while living with my parents and beyond desperate to find a house so I could have a place to bring my baby home to. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Especially when you're in peak pregnancy hormone phase. So our little two bedroom house has had a few modifications as the years have gone by. The most recent of our house mods involved Abby's need to have her big-girl bed. The poor mattress of her toddler bed has been through three kids (it was a hand-me down when I got it for Alex). So it was time to give her the bed we bought for her last year. Problem: The teeny-tiny bedroom the kids share isn't big enough for two twin beds. Solution: Knock out half of the closet and make two twin beds fit. So this weekend was remodel-the-kids-bedroom weekend. With the help of my super-awesome parents and their super-awesome array of power tools, we succeeded in finishing the entire project in two days. Me and my mom have done a lot to this house since moving in. We are quite the pair of diligent workers and it's actually quite fun to work together. I look forward to our project times. The kiddos were so excited that Grandpa was here that my dad spent his time being babysitter grandpa. Thanks to both my folks for all your help! So minus the accordion doors that I took off before this photo, this is what the room looked like before.
Here is my helper kitty, Luke. he couldn't resist the open window and getting in the way when ever possible. Sadly, all kitties were kicked out when the painting began. And yes...the mask was on all the time. The house was built in 1945. I wasn't sure what exactly was in that sheetrock dust.

Here is happy helper kitty Penny. She climbed the ladder in hopes of jumping into the missing sections of drop ceiling. So naturally she had to be kicked out frequently. Like that ladder? You too could have a completely unstable ladder left behind from the tenants prior to your house purchase. I think it was hand-built. Scary.

And after the job was done, here is the pretty new room. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. Looks like I can add dry-wall to my list of things I can do. I don't have a picture with the bed in there yet because I forgot to take one. And in fear that taking a picture while the kids sleep would cause them to wake up in terror at the scary lady with the flashing light...I'll take a picture later. Ain't it purdy?

Bustin' Out the Fruit Tray

This past couple of weeks the weather has been getting nicer and with nice weather comes many things. One of those things that I am finding to be so great is the fact that your fruit selection no longer costs an arm and a leg. That's why I decided to dust off the big fruit tray from last year. Now that the kiddos are developing a slightly larger taste palette, I can manage to put some veggies on there as well. After slicing up some fruit, veggies, and busting open a can of black olives (they love them) I filled that bad boy up and let the kids go to town. I couldn't believe my eyes when they went for the carrots first. I'm not complaining though. It took a whopping three days and then the tray was empty and I was officially out of food to put on it. Looks like I'll be stocking my fridge with the tastes of spring tomorrow. Of course, I'm not counting out any more freezes as last night it dipped into the 20's, but I am truly excited for spring. Yay for fruit tray season!

Geeky Moments

Today's geeky moment has been brought to you by...

The Hobbits of The Lord of The Rings

I had a request for this week's geeky moment from a faithful reader. I mentioned on my first geeky post that I had sent in a cartoon to a magazine and had it published as part of a contest. Does the fact that I had to think up and write the words on the cartoon and the fact that it was, in fact, published, mean that I am a published writer? Interesting thought...hmmm. Anyhow, the cartoon was published in the June-July 2009 Number 9 issue of The Lord of the Rings Fan Club Official Movie Magazine. It had Dominic Monaghan as Meriadoc Brandybuck (Merry) on the cover. Which of course is awesome as he was one of my favorite characters in the book. Hobbits rule! (Sorry. Had to say that.) So after much digging, I finally found my digital copy of the cartoon. It's a good thing I used to back up my work so well. Sadly, I didn't label my disks nearly as efficiently. The magazine titled my cartoon "Second Breakfast" and it won for being, "LOL Funny". I was proud as a peacock. Did I mention I won a prize? Yep. I signed poster version of Bill Amend's Fox Trot Lord of the Rings cartoon. It. Was. Awesome.

Good Deed Gone Awry

Good intentions. They don't always go the way you expect them to. As a matter of fact, sometimes they go the exact opposite that you plan them to. This past Saturday I went on my weekly trip to Wal-Mart with my mom in tow. Everything was all hunky dory until the drive home. I came up over a hill on fairly well-traveled, paved county road when I saw something in my lane. At first glance I thought it was a big white goat, but upon getting closer realized it was a big English Pointer hunting dog. The poor thing looked about as lost and confused as a dog can get. It was apparently looking for someone familiar to help him home. It literally just stood there, horn beep and all. I decided to pull off in in a driveway to a milo field so I could find a name and number on it's collar (which it had along with a big locator collar). The only thought going through my mind was, "If I don't get this dog out of the road, it's going to cause an accident or get killed.) Apparently another lady thought the same thing because she stopped and had her dad park her car up the road so she could help me call the owner of this hyper dog. As I was kneeling on the ground trying to control the crazy dog, yet another vehicle (SUV) stopped to see if either of us were hurt. It was a family of four in that SUV and no sooner did we tell them we were fine and just helping a dog, than a big truck came from behind them, not slowing down, and crashed into the back of the SUV at what we thought was full speed (55 mph). The sound was menacing and deafening. I was nearly certain that the driver of the truck was dead the way she was flopping around. Thank God that she wasn't. I saw the air bag deploy and that probably saved her life. From what I overheard, she destroyed her knee and her ankle was broken. It wasn't until 911 was called that we discovered that her 2 or 3 year old grand-daughter was in the back seat of the truck, safely buckled into her seat. The poor girl was terrified. Everyone involved came away alive without life threatening injuries but I still can't stop picturing it in my head. It was so scary how close I was to the accident, being just feet away from the impact. It could have ended a lot worse for me and the other lady if that dog hadn't dragged us away from the road. We aren't sure how the driver of the truck missed two cars pulled off the road and one stopped in front of her. But hopefully she heals quickly and all involved heal from any minor injuries they have. Later, when I gave my statement to the officer I told him how I'd pulled off the road to catch the dog in hopes of preventing an accident. He just smiled, asked if I was okay and told me that it wasn't my fault. Apparently my good deed went sour. Good news though. The owner of the dog showed up and was thrilled that we found him. He'd traveled a few good miles from his house and they'd been looking for him all day. There's always a silver lining I suppose.

Denied

Remember how a month or so ago, I mentioned my new found life path of writing? Well, I must say that this road to hopeful publication and potential success is a bumpy one at best. Though I'd love to be published, writing the book is much more enjoyable than finding an agent. In fact, I have three more books on the bench and a sequel to my current baby already in the makes. But I must say that entering the treacherous world of publishing has become one of the most interesting things I've ever done. Perhaps I should stray backwards a bit. 'Publishing' is too strong a word. I will go with querying, as this is the obvious first step should you choose to not self-publish. To those less savvy to the writing world, (i.e. my family and friends) they assume that you can e-mail a random mildly famous writer and make a connection that will lead you to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. (Sorry. It's St. Patrick's Day. Had to reference.) The pot of gold is obviously a contract with an agent and more unlikely, this can not be. So last year I began querying. My first query letter was terrible. I admit this fully and spent weeks perfecting it. That's the point in which I started fishing again for agents in hopes of one little nibble. Alas, but not a one has taken my bait...yet. I recently received another denial bumping my number of rejections to thirteen. Nevertheless, as I wake up every morning and check my e-mail, I find myself fighting back the flutters in my stomach. I call those flutters my hopeful butterflies. When I see that beautiful subject line that begins with 'RE: Query...', I swear I do a mental back-flip before opening it. I usually get away with reading it two or three times before I send it to the 'denial' folder in my mailbox. I check that agent off of the mammoth list of agencies and try, try, try again. The question I ask myself is this: How many rejections does it take when fishing for an agent to realize that perhaps it's not my fishing style, but rather the bait that is bad? Here's hoping for agent number fourteen...

Our Freaky Lil' Visitor

It all happened one rainy night last week. I had avoided my typical after-dark visit to the bunnies in the backyard in an attempt to stay dry. After the rain let up, I walked outside to the sidewalk and waved my hand in front of the sensor for the floodlight. I heard a freakish little squealing sound by my foot and then the light popped on. I wasn't sure what to expect so when I looked down and saw a possum two inches from my foot I leaped two feet off the ground and promptly did an eebie-jeebie dance in, what I hoped to be, the opposite direction of the furry little creature. I'm sure you're thinking, "It's a possum Jessica. Not a rattle snake." So I say to you, have you ever seen a possum up close? Those little things are kinda freaky and have some sharp, nasty teeth. There's a reason you give a kid a stuffed teddy bear and not a stuffed possum. Not a cuddling kind of critter. So after the eebie-jeebies were gone, (about 5 seconds later) I turned around and saw how scared the little thing was. It kept running into the chain-link fence in a desperate attempt to flee. No longer creeped out by it, I went along my business and fed the bunnies. When I turned around, I heard something strange and saw that it had actually climbed the wet, slick fence and was walking tediously across the bar at a snail's pace. It was probably hoping that I wouldn't notice. I can imagine how terrified it must have been when I ran in the house to get Josh and my camera. Now instead of one scary human, there were two and one of them had a little gizmo that shot balls of bright, blinding light into it's eyes. I got within ten or less feet of it once it had rounded the corner and snapped a photo of it.

Never seen a possum do this before. It froze dead still as I snapped the photo. I couldn't tell if it wanted to feign death or if it was contemplating leaping into the air to rip my face off. Either way, I made sure it was a very quick photo. Now I know who is making all the ruckus outside every night in our trash cans. Needless to say, my nightly trips to the bunnies cage involve a few extra heartbeats in the fear that I might actually step on him next time. I'm not really in the mood for a case of rabies.

Geeky Moments

Today's geeky moment has been brought to you by...

The Predator

First of all, I will answer the question you might ask at the end of this post. Yes. I have too much time on my hands and it's all after midnight when I struggle with finding sleep. I'm going to share with you a little story. You see, as I type this, I'm suffering from a headache that has been plaguing me for well over two weeks now. I'm in need of my chiropractic care that I've managed to go without for four months now. But, I wasn't always so thrilled with having my spine manipulated. So here's my preconceived notion of how a first visit to a chiropractor might be.

You're going along life, minding your own business, when you feel a pain in your back.

Someone suggests that going to a chiropractor was the best decision they ever made. But cracking the spine? Doesn't sound natural. Unfortunately the pain gets worse and desperation kicks in for a quick fix. You book the appointment and the anxiety begins.

You Google until your fingers bleed and discover that chiropractic care is a holistic form of treatment and convince yourself to go. You lie down on the table. It's comfy. How bad can it be?

Suddenly, the doctor's poking around your back and invading your security bubble.

Then there's a crack and you're second guessing yourself.

A sound comes out of your spine that isn't natural.

You're contorted into a position you didn't realized existed and no longer accept the death that surely awaits when you're spine is severed.

You hear an Earth-shattering sound resonate throughout the room and deduct that you're spine is now naught but a pile of goo and that this was the most horrific experience of your life. You silently vow, should you live, to never do it again.

You stand up. The pain is gone. You're impressed.

Dental Care: Fail

I think I might be posting one too many 'Fail' blogs. But...it is what it is! And so life goes on. The dental drama that has taken place over the last week has taken a toll on us all. It all started way back when Alex had his first check-up and it was found that he had 6 cavities (thank you medications for your dry-mouth side effects). I thought that I couldn't be more shocked about that many cavities in such a young kid. That was until this past Monday when a dentist beat me with a toothbrush and dipped me head-first into a vat of boiling hot mouthwash. Let me back up a little. Alex went to have his second cavity filled. His first time was a smashing hit and we expected it to go about the same. Apparently he caught on to the fact that having a drill in your mouth? Yeah. Not so fun. The dentist got started and Alex decided that he wouldn't have anything to do with it. So we were referred to a pediatric dentist so that we could consider the option of having my sweet little four-year old knocked out via IV sedation and have all the work done in one swift blow. That's all fine and dandy and all, until you actually go to the pediatric dentist. The first dentist we went to was Monday. The office was pretty fancy schmancy. TV's on the ceiling above each chair and all the bells and whistles you can imagine. They got a couple of their own x-rays and then WHAM! The dentist knocked me out. Okay...so not really. But he might as well have. They proceeded to inform me that there were in fact 10 more cavities to be filled and one tooth that needed to have a crown. This was the point when had to fight the urge to curl up into a tight ball and hum show tunes to myself while they fitted me for a straight jacket. Don't even get me started on the bill they projected. SO, fast forward through my mental breakdown and I ended up calling a second pediatric dentist to get a second opinion. That was yesterday. Poor Alex was being pushed to his dental-limit this week. This dentist proceeds to tell me that Alex only has five or six cavities and that the first pediatric dentist was a wee bit on the overkill side and that I couldn't have picked a more expensive dentist to go to. I guess the fact that they offered me a full-sized cappuccino when I walked in should have been my clue, eh? He showed me several things on the projected bill that were completely unnecessary. So, Alex's new dentist is really awesome and great with him. As freaked out as I am by the idea of sedation dentistry for my little one, I actually trusted the doc this time. Not so much with dentist numero uno. He's performed thousands of these so I think we're good. The big 'fix' will happen on April 14th so if you have a spare moment to lift up my little guy in prayer, we'd appreciate it. Hopefully between now and then, I won't have anymore moments of mental exhaustion. I'm feeling a little...frayed around the edges. I'll just keep my straight jacket hanging in the closet for now.

Geeky Moments

Today's geeky moment has been brought to you by...

Lord of the Rings and the Balrog of Morgoth

I drew this cartoon up for a submission to a Lord of the Rings magazine awhile back ago. Though I chose to submit another one (which was published, thank you very much), it's still funny. You know...if you're a geek and all.


I'm going to try to do a new thing. Yes. Again. I will tap into my inner geek with a (hopefully) weekly posting called Geeky Moments. Hence, the title of the post today. I have a lot of geek to share. I just don't have an audience to share it with. Oddly enough, the hubby and I, though both of us geeks, are from different ends of the geeky spectrum. So you, faithful readers, must suffer now. Enjoy!

Better than an alarm clock

Now that the ol' hubby has a job and all, I've fallen back into step with my tried and true schedule. I wake up with Josh so that I can go whip him up a healthy lunch and some snacks for the day and make him some breakfast (if he wants to eat). Boy. That sure made me sound like the 'little woman' in the kitchen. But I wouldn't be doing this if he didn't have to get up before the butt crack of dawn every morning. The goal is to help him sleep just that few minutes extra by sharing the load. Anyhow...true to form, I've strayed from my point. You see, yesterday morning seemed as though it would be just another day. Not true. We have pay-by-the-minute cell phones for emergency use. I asked Josh before he left if he had his phone and he said that the time expired on it so it wouldn't work. I shrugged and said I'd add minutes when he got home. As I began to curl back up in my warm bed, I felt guilty and decided that I'd better add minutes before I went back to sleep. You know...just in case. I fired up the computer, added some minutes and tried to pass back out in bed. Unfortunately, the minutes weren't going to be added unless Josh turned his phone off and back on. Seeing as how I had no way to tell him this, I did nothing but toss and turn in bed with the constant vision of him getting into an accident and no phone to call for aid. So you can imagine what my heart did when the phone rang fifteen minutes after Josh left and lo and behold, it was him on the phone. I think for just a moment my heart actually stopped as I picked up the phone. I say, "H-h-hello??" Josh says, "Uh, hey...I hit a deer and uh...totaled the car." I tell you something, waking up to the phone ringing before the sun is up is better than an alarm clock. I can't go back to sleep after that. After he verified that he was fine, I swallowed my heart back down long enough to catch my breath. Miraculously, the phone got the minutes without turning the phone off and on. No idea how that happened, but I'm glad it did. The police officer showed up quite awhile later and did what she needed to do and then the barrage of phone calls began. Turns out that the car was still drivable and the officer gave Josh the go ahead to to drive to my folks house to drop the car off with my generous brother Aaron following him. Aaron brought him back home and his new boss gave him the day off to get things in order. Josh's folks brought their spare car down for us to use and we went about our not-so-merry day. As we only have liability on the now damaged vehicular structure, we get to eat the car for breakfast for the next few months. Mmm...metal. Funny story though, we could be eating deer as well, but as I'm not a fan of the whole 'dining on Bambi' thing, Josh passed on the offer of keeping it. Turns out that the first nice guy (one of three) that stopped to check on Josh was actually a hunter. After finding out if Josh was okay, he showed back up in his hunting gear (how odd) and asked Josh, "So, uh, you gonna keep that deer or can I have it?" Josh figured, waste not. The officer asked Josh what he wanted to do with it and he passed the buck (pun intended) to the nice hunter dude. Poor deer. Apparently, Josh was driving about 60 on cruise control when he saw a doe crossing the road. He braked down to about 55 mph when out of the blue the happy little buck that was chasing the doe jumped into Josh's path. At least he died happy, right? Josh, on the other hand, did take a little souvenir. I never pegged my husband as a redneck, and I still don't really. But there's a little hick in him somewhere because he scavenged the broken antler from the buck and kept it as a memento of his first deer kill. *rolling my eyes* Of course, I think that the deer was at a slightly unfair disadvantage. Don't you agree? Anyways, we did some looking and we think we're going to go to a few salvage yards and get the parts and fix ol' blue back up. She's got a few more miles in her I think. The damage wasn't as bad as it seemed once daylight hit. My brother snapped a couple of pictures of the incident on his phone for me. I'll leave the one of dead Bambi off. That would just be...ya know...weird. So yeah...not our best morning. But we are very blessed in the fact that Josh didn't get a scratch on him. He was very lucky that the Big Man Himself was looking out for him. Boy, I tell ya what. What a year this has been. Oi! I'm exhausted.

Project Grizzly Adams: Complete

Let it be known across the lands that The Great Beard of Unemployment has fallen. It's a bittersweet tale, really. What was once a form of entertainment was also symbolic of the downward spiral that comes with unemployment. Though I grew fond of the idea that I could have my own personal live-in dwarf, I am sad, yet happy, to say that Josh finally cut the beard. I suppose if you are unaware of the premise of Project Grizzly Adams, feel free to follow the link to read about it. And by the way...no. I don't really wish that Josh looked like a dwarf from Lord of the Rings. I'm not that weird. Well...maybe. But it would have been highly entertaining to be able to braid his beard. I can't help it. I get bored around here. So here we have an image of what Josh would normally look like on an average 'normal beard' day:

And after three months of constant growth, we have the 'half-dwarf beard'. I guess in perspective it doesn't look all that impressive. Or maybe I'm just used to it...hmmm...

And here is what Josh would have looked like should I have gone back to work and assumed the role of permanent bread-winner:

Bye-bye beard. Until the next pink slip.

(What? Was that not optimistic enough?)

Catching Up

It's a bit hard to believe how crazy the last two weeks have been. Josh was in the midst of his fourth month of unemployment. It seemed as though we were only moments away from dusting off our tools so we could commence in the scraping of the bottom of our proverbial barrel. The unemployment was approaching it's cap and our sanity was nearly reaching a maximum level of cope-ability. I'd gotten my resume back out and fixed it back up in hopes of finding some job that didn't leave me smelling of fried food upon coming home. (Not that there's anything wrong with that. I've just been there...done that...a lot...don't want to do it again.) I called in a favor for a letter of recommendation and was all set to begin the long tedious process of job hunting. That was the Saturday before I felt like I'd hit my maximum 'handle-zone'. As is said, God won't give you more than you can handle and that weekend was the weekend that I lost my Daisy. Combined with current events, I was fairly certain my hair would either A.) fall out, B.) go gray or C.) go gray and then fall out. And I'd just ran out of Tums. Not good.

The day after Daisy passed, my threshold was tested when my mom called to tell me that the typical process used to take care of livestock bodies no longer accepted animals over the age of 30 months. Apparently there's a new law about this which I would come to find out later has caused many issues with farmers and people everywhere. I planned to leave my folks' house and not have to worry about what "happened" after that day only to find myself spending the next two days finding someone who would dig a hole in the back of my parents' pasture to bury a cow. I didn't think I'd be spending my Monday and Tuesday preparing funeral arrangements for my lost friend. Turns out that this was a blessing in disguise. Trust me when I say that you don't want to know what they do with the bodies of dead livestock. The idea of it was devastating and quite haunting. I was blessed by finding a very nice young man who's business was backhoe work. He told me he understood what I was going through and that he'd just buried someone's horse just days before this and had done this job quite often as of late. I was shocked, but ever grateful. My mom and dad were wonderful through all of this and made it so that I didn't have to be there when she was buried. (Dead animals and hot sun do not make a pleasant combination and I didn't want that image stamped on my already fragile mind.) The young man was very gentle and very nice and I made sure to send a thank you card to him with cookies for his work and fair price. Oddly enough, this was a much better situation. Though I dreaded the phone calls where I barely kept my voice from squeaking, she is now buried peacefully. She deserved the respect of a burial and I'd never thought it a possibility before. I couldn't have asked for a better end to the whole mucky situation.

Well, this was the point where I feel as though God looked down on me and said, "Yep. And that's about all you can handle right now." Because the next day, I came home to Josh saying, "I have a job." I was so happy I almost peed myself. (Sorry. But it's the truth.) We aren't entirely certain if the job is long term or short term, but it's actually a really good place to work from what we can tell. The owner hates working out of town, prefers to work only 40 hour weeks, owns his own business for (for seventeen years now), is keeping plenty of things for Josh to do, and does everything including HVAC which is what Josh needs experience in so badly. We are hoping for long term employment, but for now we are just grateful for what he has. Getting a paycheck again is like getting a breath of fresh air after being trapped under sewage water for the last four months.

In other news, I have a potty trained almost-three-year-old. Other than diapers at bedtime, Abby has proudly joined the ranks of civilized kid society. It was almost like a light switch for her. One day she was hesitant but then realized how great it was to be itchy-diaper free. She never looked back. I'm so proud of her. In response to this, I promptly went out and purchased my first 'adult' purse. You know the type. Short handles and not the size of a suitcase. I'm still attempting to get used to it. I feel a bit naked as I leave the house without the five pounds of gear draped over my shoulders.

So though tonight I feel no motivation to plug in my camera and transfer photos, I will post tomorrow the conclusion to Project Grizzly Adams. Turns out that Josh actually didn't look half bad with a big bushy beard. But alas, after picking food out of it for the last time, he decided to bid adieu to the beard and end the long stretch of our unemployment time killer. I was mildly disappointed that he didn't decide to keep it. I was hoping to braid it to make him look like Gimli the dwarf. It made me chuckle to think about it. What can I say? Even in the midst of life struggles I can't help but to be a geek.