Just one of those days...

Today I had a day off.

It was going to be fantastic. Get a bunch of work done. Grade some papers. Prep for some podcasting (recording tomorrow). Do some homework for my Masters. Do some work around the house. And spend the day with my son to boot.

All plans fail in the face of reality, however.

Shortly after my wife left for work she called to tell me that she had been in a car accident on the Beltline (that's the Interstate network that circles Raleigh).

Air bags were deployed. Car were towed away. Rain fell upon the scene. Citations were awarded to people involved who were not my wife.

She's fine, a bit sore here and there but basically unharmed. The other driver is much the same. He even got to drive his car away...remarkable given that she hit him at around 45 mph.

So life was less productive than I wanted it to be. I still accomplished 5 out of 8 things on my to-do list and on the upside I got to hang out with my wife all day.

On the downside her car might be totaled, which will put a cramp on the goal we had to nab a bunch of new furniture, she spent the day dealing with insurance companies, and we're all more than a little sick of the rain.

So all in all, I have some catching up to do after today, but things could have been much worse. Hopefully all the distractions didn't keep me from my regular beard-growing time.

In my ears: The Lost Podcast with Jay and Jack

Beard level: Middling at best

Sponsor of the day: Netflix...not really but I'm watching a disc from them, so why not. :-)

Upbeat!

Today was a day. Off that is.

Tired!

And for no other reason than that I.....

Got tired and went to sleep.

Huh?

I have nothing to add today. Saving my words to hopefully regain my caughtupitude in NaNoWriMo

About to make the coffee.

Today I came into the office to a stack of quarters and a note. "Way to beard" it reads. This anonymous donation is gladly accepted, and is the reason for my smiling face this morning.

I dunno.

And I've run out of ideas to make my pictures unique. Damn. Time to bring out the camera and see what can be done about this.

Sparky?

This started as an attempt to make my face frown as deeply as some of Cmaaarrr's pictures.

I failed.

However, the result is something I cannot stop staring at. It shocks me that I did not use any image manipulation software on this image to achieve the effect you see. That is just... my face.

Instead of resembling Cmaaarrr, I instead bear a disturbing likeness to Rygel from Farscape.

I can stare, too!

If this thing was called "How Not to Grow Nose Hair Month", I'd be losing. Big time. I swear, it's like trying to trim a hydra up in my nostrils. Did you need to know that? You did not. At all. Are you wishing you could erase that knowledge? You may well be, but I know from painful experience that it's awfully hard to un-know something.

You know what might help, though? Donations. The warm fuzzies you get after making that donation—and you will get warm fuzzies—will go a long way toward wiping that little bit of unpleasantness from your mind. Probably.

It's worth a shot.

Among the many faults visible, perhaps most predominant is the need of hair cut

I made applesauce today. It is delicious. I also made an apple pie. It's rather good, but the applesauce is a revelation. I would not have made it had I not bought twice the apples necessary for my apple pie.

Fortuitous failure!

I've never made applesauce before. It's preposterously easy. I recommend you try it.

Cooking with apples is manly, right? It's a manly fruit.

The chin. It remains hairless.

So I'm watching Aragorn and Gandalf talk very seriously, and slightly grubby, only the level of grubby that's acceptable, not gross, and they talk, and their beards are beardly and manly and quite the statement of war and hardship and manliness.

My face. It is not beardly. It is not manly. I continue to NOT GROW A BEARD. (Check the title of this site. Remember. This is our goal.)

So I watch the manly men with their manly beards fight manly wars. And I wait for Eowyn's moment of triumph. "I AM NO MAN."

Tired of the monitor reflecting off my glasses

Kind of a blah day here, so not really coming up with the funny. For those who might have been offended/insulted by yesterday, I was trying to bring the funny, but I'm not sure that came across. Too much snark, perhaps. So to be clear, y'all are delightful and intelligent people, even when the testosterone is poisoning your brains. (Just can't stop, can I?)

One thing I didn't mention yesterday was that due to some Twitter activity I got another bump in donations. So many thanks to you people, and the boobs thank you too. And I don't mean the other participants in this contest, though they probably do as well. (And there I go again. Oh well, it's how I roll.)

Savin' lives and growin' beards.

I often take it for granted that when I tell people in the global community at large that I am "a doctor," that they will believe me. This is not always the case. I could, for instance, be someone who is not a doctor, but who plays one on TV on podcasts and in other online fora. Or I may be engaged in a rather obtuse, long-lived and expensive solo LARP. In any case, a select few argue that since male physicians cannot have ponytails, I am not to be trusted.

Here, then, is proof of my doctorhood:

• I'm in a well-lit, emergency-room setting

• trauma bay doors are clearly visible over my right shoulder

• a telemetry monitor is obvious over my left shoulder

• I'm showing off my Day 10 growth with my patented "C'mon, I'm a doctor" look

Either that or I am the type of unqualified person who dresses up and hangs out in emergency rooms. Also possible.

Sensation: neckline itch is barely notable

Palpation: pleasantly smooth and feathery

Personal satisfaction rating: 3 (out of 5 Norsemen)

Contemplating the sounds of my homeland.

Tonight I worked on a little project for my mother. In a word...cows.

Let me explain...no, let me sum up...

I'm from a town of less than 8000 people in Southwest Iowa called Atlantic. It's a great town to grow up in and I think of it fondly often.

It is a town which, like most of Iowa, has an economy based in agriculture.

Well, apparently my mother has a friend who recently made the move from his comfy down-home farm to big city life in Atlantic and he's been having some trouble sleeping.

My mother, being the kind hearted soul that she is wanted to help the poor man out. So she found a bunch of cow noises online, but she just wasn't sure how to make that into a CD for him to listen to. So she grabbed her camera and started making videos of her computer to capture the sounds and then called me up to ask how she can make the videos into a CD.

A noble effort and a creative solution. I commend her on that. But from thousands of miles away I did not want to take the time to walk her through the steps needed to do what she wanted to do (especially since I was in the middle of making dinner).

So here we are, it's been a few hours and I've collected cow sounds from the web-ernet, compiled them into a fantastic sound effect using my mad GarageBand skillz (note the "z" there, implying that I'm not just talented, but also hip and in touch with the "youth" of "today").

Now I just have the much easier task of walking my mother through the process of turning a 40 second mp3 into an audio CD tomorrow morning when I have a day off.

This is a much better solution and took me less than 30 minutes to complete, and a good chunk of that has been blogging about it.

In my ears: Cows

Beard level: Wishing it was thicker, but coming along as usual

Sponsor of the day: Atlantic, IA

Why did I miss day 9? I looked at Kris' monstrous neckbeard from '08 and it left me a shambling, drooling husk of a man... I've only now recovered.

In related news, I shaved my neck this morning. The beard feels exquisite when I gently comb my fingers through it whilst pondering. This is the ruler by which all beards should be measured, I think.

My impression of... uh... someone with a big chin...

I find the whole "neckbeard" conversation rather humorous for a single reason: Who gives a damn?

No, seriously, if you're on the wagon that can't stand the "itch," fine. Go ahead and put the razor to the face and ease your suffering.

If you're on the wagon of "have to look professional," fine. Put the razor to your face and keep your job.

If you, like me, are on the wagon of "I do this regularly anyway, and no one gives a damn at work," cool. Join me on the unshorn wagon and smile.

I mean, after all, the whole point this month is to SAVE THE BOOBS!

Well done, by the way, folks. I'm impressed on a daily basis with the amount of fundage we've already brought in. It is very, very cool, indeed.

Lettin' it all hang out

Try not to think too much about the title of this post.

Wait. If I point it out, that kind of does the opposite, doesn't it?

To more pressing matters!

Just so we're clear with some of the newcomers: The macho posturing is part of the gag. There are no winners or losers at How Not To Grow A Beard Month. One certainly does not win harder because he did or did not use more or fewer rules. It's all in good fun.

Except, of course, that those of us who don't touch a razor all month do win better.

Day 9, 2008. I had done a trim, I think.

As regards the beard, it seems to me that it is growing in thicker and faster than last year. Contrasting the photograph from day 9 last year seems to bear that out.

It bears mentioning that, with the sudden outbreak of good weather here in Cleveland, I got to learn first hand (again) that the neckbeard does not get along well with the motorcycle jacket's high collar or the helmet's chin strap. Itchy

Hmmm, I wonder...

Tonight I write while watching the newest episode of Heroes.

Holy cow, did they just kill that character?

Oh, I liked her, where's she going?

That chick is psycho!

And that guy might have a different power-set entirely, but he's totally Magneto.

Still 15 minutes left. What's going to happen next?

In my ears: Zombie's Don't Play Soccer audiobook my son got at Wendy's.

Beard Level: Past the point of just looking like I forgot to shave. It now looks like I actually am growing...something on purpose.

Sponsor of the Day: Tammy (tink277925) from Triangle Mommies (thanks to my wife for posting there).

You see what I did with that opening paragraph there?

A day passes, and everyone's at each other's throats...

As you can see, I am somewhat shorn. I did this before all the kerfuffle, but I probably would have done it anyway, were it after. I shall express my opinion on this by use of analogy -- which as you'll see I might think is necessary rather than straight logic.

Say you're playing football. Most would agree that this is a manly sport. Most would also agree that running the ball is more manly than throwing a pass. However, both are allowed in the rules of the game. If you decide to go the manly route and run the ball all the time, you will lose more likely than not. You are turning down opportunities that the rules offer you, and you are paying the price.

The situation is similar here. Prior to entering the field of contest, the rules were agreed upon by all. Gamesmanship requires that they be used.

So to be plain -- not making use of a rule that is of advantage to you may well be manliness. But it's also stupidity.

And that's all I have to say about that.