Playing Ketchup

It’s been what? almost three weeks since I last posted? My bad. The fact of the matter is…and Paula always gets fired up when I say this because it sounds like we’re boring, but it is what it is….that not much is going on. But, out of respect for the 3 or 4 people – 10-15 if we address infant ear-piercing – who faithfully check this blog, I will post some random drivel.

Weekend Wanderings
The LP Roberts family’s free time has been largely invested in two things:

1.) Looking for a house
2.) Wondering how people ever afford a house

For the past two Saturdays, we’ve traversed Gwinnett County for a house we can afford not in a drug neighborhood. Easier said than done. You know its bad news when the houses you can afford are in areas where the others houses have eight cars parked in the driveway, on the lawn, on the street, in the flower garden, etc…and they hadn’t got the memo on the invention of a little device called a lawnmower. But, what do you do?
We’re confident we’ll find something decent and safe; I’m not looking for the Taj Mahal, but something a little bigger than the linen closet.

Walk of Shame
We did trek out to Conyers a couple Fridays ago to see the new residence of Greg and Melissa. I don’t have any pictures to post because I forgot my wide-angle lens…I kid! I kid! But, seriously folks, it’s a beautiful home and we had a good time. So good, in fact, that most who came out stayed up until 3:30am playing pool and singing karaoke. Even Paula (who is not known for her ability to stay up past 8:30pm) was up until almost 2:30 – I was so proud! The singing was abysmal, to say the least. They don’t make buckets large enough for me to carry a tune in, and Dave, Todd and Greg share in my disability. So I was in great company. Paula and I crashed in one of the guest rooms and rolled out the next morning, arriving home in the same clothes we left in. Apparently this is what is referred to as “the walk of shame” (returning the next day in your same clothes). I almost felt like I was young again. But then I had to take a nap, and I remembered I’m not.

Weighting For The Results
Nathan and I are engaged in a contest regarding our waistlines. To put it gently, Nathan’s really porked out. He’s huge. Pavarotti, if you want to know what happened to your pants, I saw them in Nerf’s closet. (I think they’ve stretched a bit, so just buy new ones.) Meantime, I’m pretty much packin’ the six-pack abs I always have, modeling for Men’s Health on the weekends. It’s a burden I bear, this perfect body. We all have our crosses…
Really though, Nathan’s not huge and I’m no fitness model, so we are seeing who can shed the most weight by the reunion at the end of July. Nathan mentioned the other day he’s employed a strategy of biking to work, softball, swimming in the ocean and puking after every meal; the strategy I’ve employed has different activities since I don’t have an ocean, bike and hate vomiting. I engage in intense gaming to break a good sweat (10 pushups per offensive score, 15 per defensive in NCAA Football 2007) and using laxatives to purge. I’ve been able to get through the first 4 Harry Potter books with this strategy. You can’t do that throwing up…

Another Face In The Crowd
Finally, I’m now on Facebook. I was trying to hold out (like a blog is somehow infinitely superior to a social networking site) but got a couple invites from old college friends, so since I wanted to see what they were up to, I joined. I think that was last week and now I’m getting ‘poked’ and having my ‘wall’ written on by tons (or dozens) of old college friends and friends of college friends. So, if you’re a Facebooker, let me know. If I don’t confirm you as my friend, it’s nothing personal.
I just don’t like you.