Text from my dad

Do you want a 2oth anniversrytrhoopfest tshirt

Get out of my dream...and into my car

I had another dream about my favorite president, BHO.

In this dream, my father (my actual dad, not Obama) had been accused of a crime he did not commit. And I think I was still in high school? Maybe? This part is a little fuzzy. Anyway, my dad was falsely accused of some heinous crime that I believe involved stealing gasoline, a car chase, and someone running over a police officer. Anyway, I was just APPALLED at the idea of going to school the next day, because everyone would think my dad was guilty, and I had more important things to do, like clearing his name. This was obviously a busy and stressful day, so when I finally had time to check my phone, I had three missed calls. Two were from Barack Obama, and one was from Jeff Goldblum. In this universe, this was totally normal because I was not phased at all to have these people in my missed calls. I knew BHO would help clear my father's name, so I immediately attempted to call him back. Unfortunately, I accidently dialed Jeff Goldblum's number. He answered right away and informed me that he had called because the studio was releasing a special edition dvd of Jurassic Park and they wanted the stars to do a commentary track (Apparently, in this universe, I had also starred in Jurassic Park, which is totally awesome and in my top ten movies of all time.). I was like, "Great, Jeff Goldblum, I'm kind of busy right now," but he just kept blabbing on. It was like, come on, Jeff Goldblum, mechanical dinosaurs ARE awesome, but I have to call back the leader of the free world, and save my dad...

I woke up before I could call back Obama, so I guess I'll never know if my dad went down for a crime he didn't commit.

Dreams of my (fake) father

Last night I dreamed that I was the oldest Obama daughter.

Obama was totally a Harrison-Ford-in-Air-Force-One-badass president and we were riding in a jeep to some do some top secret (most likely badass) mission.

Because it was so top secret, we couldn't have any secret service with us, so Barack had to infiltrate the enemy head quarters solo while I distracted the evil government officials from Some-Other-Country-istan.

But because my father, Barack Obama, did not want me to be unsafe, I did all my secret agent-ing from the back of a highly trained, extremely effective security elephant.

Sadly, I woke up before I found out if our mission had been a successful one.

My dad

I was talking to my dad on the phone yesterday. This is a very common occurence. Sometimes we talk multiple times a day. This is mostly because we have unlimited family minutes and jobs where much of our time is spent not doing anything. So, anytime one of us finds out something that the other one finds interesting, we call the other one. For example, yesterday I called my dad to tell him that Haggen bought the Larry's Market in Redmond and also that Errol Knight signed to play with the Bellingham Slam. He said, "Speaking of athletes...I saw that Jake Locker is playing baseball in Bellingham this summer."

I replied in the affirmative, and he went on to outline a plan. The superintendent at the school he teaches at is from Ferndale and knows the Locker family. My dad wants to give him my picture to pass on to Jake Locker, and then have me hang out at the Bellingham Bells games. To quote my dad, "Marrying Jake Locker would even be better than going to business school!"

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha forever.

This is mostly funny because this is the last thing that you would ever expect to come out of my dad's mouth. He is constantly reminding me that I probably shouldn't get married until I am at least 35 (despite the fact he got married at 24), and whenever my mom asks if I'm dating anyone, he says, "Janet! It's PERFECTLY fine if she isn't dating anyone." Apparently, this deal seems too good to pass up. He's probably even pay for the wedding. (He once offered me $5000 if I promised to elope when I do get married.)

In this tribute to my dad post, I will list five important things that he has taught me:

5. B.E.E.F.: Balance, eyes, elbow, follow through. These are the four essentials for a good shot in basketball. While I am not a great basketball player, I do have a nice looking shot.

4. How to easily convert from Celcius to Farenheight in my head. This is especially useful since I mostly listen to Canadian radio. This is how you do it: you multiply the temperature in Celcius by 9/5 and add 32. "Hey!" you may think, "that's not easy!" Well, the secret is estimation. Let's say The Beat 94.5 tells you that the temperature is 19C. To figure that out, I would just say, "Well, 20C is pretty close to 19C." (My dad also taught me the importance of 'pretty close' in math.) 20 x 9/5 (reduce 20 to 4 and cancel the 5) is 36 + 32 is 68F. So you're off a few degrees. Whatever. This isn't analytical chemistry.

Sidenote: this may be why I did not do very well in analytical chemistry.

3. How to shoot a gun. When I was seven, I got a bb gun for Christmas. Mind you, I did not ask for a bb gun. I guess he just wanted me to be ready to inherit a small armory.

2. How to change a tire and the oil. I am rather uncoordinated and messy. If there is a slight possibility that a person could get dirty doing something, it's guarenteed that I will get dirty doing it. My dad said I had to change the oil in my car as part of the 'responsibility of driving'. I think he mostly just liked to laugh at me when I was entirely covered in old motor oil. Same with changing a tire. Les Schwab will put on or take off your snow tires for free. However, it's even freer to make your daughter do it as part of the 'responsibility of driving'. I have had to change a flat tire several times, and I was very glad that I did know how. Thanks, Dad!

1. How to put on my socks. This he learned from John Wooden. First off, you always wear 2 pairs. The first pair you put on inside out, so the seams don't rub on your feet. The second pair absorbs your sweat and keeps your feet dry. You must be very careful that there are no lumps or bumps. Your socks must be absolutely smooth before the shoes go on. I wore my socks like that until I was about 15. I still feel a little guilty when I only wear one pair of socks, and when I do get blisters, I know it's my fault.