:: Thursday, November 15, 2007 ::

"Cowboy up, Ghost Rider."

Ann and I got two puppies after we both got back. The kid thing had us itching for a little person to love on so we filled in with a Boston Terrier puppy named Scout. She is the most adorable dog in the whole world; however, she got lonely so we took a mut puppy from a friend and named her Ranger. (Yes, it's a military theme. Maggy was named after "magazines" that you put into a weapon.)

These two puppies have become the closest sisters I know. They can't sleep on the couch without each other, they play together all the time, and they conspire against me with each other. They are "secretly" digging a giant hole somewhere in the back yard. I know this because of the dirt under their fingernails. When I open the door to let them back inside the house, they are usually in the back corner of the yard playing in the tall grass. They look up at me and then go back to doing whatever they are doing back there.

There is a cat that stalks around our neighborhood and keeps eyeballing me when I leave the house. My suspicion is that they are preparing a trap for the cat and digging a hole to bury it in. I haven't seen the cat lately.

This is my entertainment while my wife is gone. It is entertaining enough, most definately. Television gets old after awhile and there is only so much you can look at on the internet before you roll back around to the same thing again. This is my entertainment.

There is something pleasing about the thought of sleeping until 11 in the morning. You imagine waking up refreshed and ready to take on the world since you have had every chance to reset and restart for the day. However, reality is that sleeping until 11 in the morning means you have blown half a day by laying in bed letting your mind do whatever it wants without conscience keeping it in check. Seems you have the weirdest dreams when you sleep later than normal.

Having a day out of school sounds like a blessing also until you remember that you are the one paying for your education when you make it to college. So that means you are paying people to let them tell you that you can take a day off. Unless you are in the military and school is paid for. Then you realize that people are paying taxes so that other people can tell us we can have a day off. It's what makes the world go round, I guess.

While I still plan on making financial management my major for studies, my hand at the stock market hasn't been too magical lately. Granted, no one's hand at the stock market has been too magical lately (unless you took a short out on everything under the sun hoping the bubble would burst again) (which it did). I have gone from just over 1000 in the ranking of the stock market game I joined to just over 8000 in two days. Lucky me. My war horse (Google) dropped like a corpse tied to concrete in the East River and my backup war horse (Research in Motion) stopped all motion and in fact went in reverse (which I suppose is still motion). The two shorts I had even screwed me over rebounding early in the sell off leaving me practically nothing. Actually, leaving me with $1,853.91 less than what I started with a month ago.

Go figure.

I don't know if the education I will be receiving through my next few years and then some will enable me to pick better stocks to invest in. Maybe it will just help me read the signs and know when to throw the dice or when to pack up the shop and sell tacos in Mexico.

Or ice in Alaska. Maybe bullets in Columbia.

:: Ben 10:43 PM [+] ::
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