Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shalt be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three.

So enough will all the 4-counts. We must remember restraint and not lose respect for the golden number, three.

Three jobs I have had in my life:

1. Heating, AC, and electrical assistant (aka crawlspace monkey)
2. Wal-Mart pet’s department stocker
3. Computer field technician

Three movies I would watch over and over:

1. Big Lebowsi
2. Ghost Busters – not that I particularly love it, but after 100 times or so why stop?
3. A Clockwork Orange

Three places I have lived:

1. John Hinkle Place (Bloomington, Indiana)
2. Hillside Drive (LaGrange, Indiana)
3. Wiley Hall (W. Lafayette, Indiana)

Three TV shows I love to watch:

1. Northern Exposure
2. The Simpsons
3. Are You Being Served?

Three places I have been on vacation:

1. Vermont
2. Oregon
3. Tobacco Root Mountains – Judson Mead Geologic Field Station

Three web sites I visit daily:

1. Yahoo Finance
2. Google News
3. Homestar Runner (ok, this is a site I’d like to visit everyday but it is important to regulate one’s self)

Three of my favorite foods:

1. Bagels
2. Macadamia nuts
3. Vegetables

Three places I would rather be right now:

1. Glacier National Park
2. Francesco’s gelato freezer
3. Svalbard

Three friends I am tagging that I think will respond (on their blogs or here in comments):

1. chenb
2. topher
3. l. claude

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Of course I managed to botch the very last line and read lisp instead of lips. Oh well – despite my efforts the ceremony proceeded beautifully and Sandy and Ben were at last officially wed. The reception afterwards was fantastic with exquisite Italian dishes prepared by Sandy’s brother. It was a treat to see and talk to faces I hadn’t seen for over three years. Thank you, Sandy, for including me in your celebration. It was wonderful!

On Sunday we started the hot day off at Michael’s Uptown Cafe with some baked French toast drowning in maple syrup. The intense sugar rush powered a stroll around town where I picked up a bag of yummy nostalgia from the Bloomingon Bagel Company. Continuing our walk through Indiana University campus, I led my family into the Memorial Union and found what appeared to be a little used stair case. Up we climbed and with each of the 9 stories the temperature must have increased by 2 degrees fahrenheit. I found a men’s room on floor 7 and since this was probably the highest men’s room on campus, I fealt compelled to check it out. To my delight, there was a window with arguably the best view of campus. I loved the irony and vowed to return with my camera. Click through to check it out:

The other highlight of the weekend was visiting the Sahara Mart in order to stock up on dark chocolate covered raisins and dive into their 20-some barrels of olives. I hadn’t been to bloomington in over 2 years and the store has nearly tripled in size. I was quite blown away by all the new products including a great selection of micro-brews. Imagine my excitement as I spied the very micro-brew that I had combed all of Corvallis last year looking for in vain. Low and behold, the coveted Gonzo Imperial Porter by Flying Dog Brewery was sitting right before me in all of its Ralph Steadman illustrated glory! I greedily snatched up a 4-pack and slipped it into my basket with a grin on my face. Then it hit me: I was in Indiana and the day was Sunday. While it would have been perfectly acceptable to go into a pub and sip on a brew to escape the scorching sun, it still remains illegal to sell alcohol in any market on a Sunday. I gingerly placed the porter back on the shelf, and resigned to conjuring up schemes of remotely enlisting my Bloomington friends to snatch the spoils and somehow send it safely across the country into my greedy clutches. At least I had my bagles, olives and raisins to keep me sane during my flight back to Oregon. All in all, it was an incredible weekend!