Oh wait. Wasn’t I supposed to tell anyone? Too late now ….

Congratulations to my dear friends Tim and Wendy, who became engaged Friday night! One bubbly, giddy, happy Wendy nearly lost her hearing after calling me Saturday to share the news. (Sorry, Wen — couldn’t help the squealing with joy!)

Send your well-wishes to the future bride and gooom. Or, for a more public display of congratulatory affection, click on the discuss link below and well-wish away!

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Congrats are also in order for Eric, who graduated with an MBA from the prestigious University of Michigan last Friday. And perhaps to Travis, as well? Rumor has it a new job lies in store for him. Do tell! For some reason, I’m feeling a bit boring lately.

Inauguration events this weekend went off without a hitch … for the most part. Aside from throwing my lovely friend Sara out of a golf cart yesterday (for once, I wasn’t driving) and the uh … small …. prairie fire after a tremendous fireworks display Friday night, I can’t say much else about the festive weekend. Oh, you can see the extent of Sara’s injuries here.

diplomatic pouch n : a mail pouch that is sealed shut and that is used to carry communications between a legation and its home office.

Says I: “So, Joseph Prueher just carried this envelope around and handed it to the Chinese?”

Says dad: “No, it was handcuffed to his minion’s wrist and that guy carried it around instead.”

So, folks, there you have it. A diplomatic pouch. Have no idea what I’m talking about? Check out last week’s post. Or, if you’re really into this kind of stuff, try the book or the Diplomacy Home Page.

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Happy birthday, Teej!

Jonatha Brooke was awseome. The service at the Fine Line was not.

On Tuesday night, Sara and I thoroughly enjoyed the snarky David Sedaris at the Historic State in downtown Minneapolis. While we both fully expected him to look somewhat like Elvis Costello and sit on stage smoking and telling stories of his travels in France, this guy was as common as my next-door-blond-haired-blue-eyed neighbor. Just funnier.

A poem for Spring (finally here!) and for April, National Poetry Month:

No winter lasts

forever, no spring

skips its turn.

April is a promise

that May is

bound to keep

and we know it.

— Hal Borland

Okay, so this is old news by now, but last week sometime America (or more specifically one Mr. Joseph W. Prueher) sent a letter of apology (or whatever you want to call it) to the Chinese after this whole spyplane incident.

All right, think with me for a while: how in the hell does one government official really send a letter to the Chinese these days?

“Hey, Mr. Bush! I don’t think this one’s gonna get across the ocean without another coupla stamps on it! Anyone got some I don’t have to lick? And I need one of those cool air mail stickers!”

I don’t think so. So, how did America send this letter? Suggestions of conversations that may have occurred in the White House:

• “Hello, China. Please read the following e-mail attachment.”
• “Mr. Jiaxuan, can you give me your fax number? The last one you sent was just your phone line.”
• “Dammit, can anyone get this laser printer unjammed? I gotta finish this mail merge!”

I’d be much happier if you all offered your comments on this highly important topic. Discuss amongst yourselves below.

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Happy birthday, Mom!

Sticker shock has hit. I was looking for a two bedroom apartment in the Cities; I’m now thinking the one bedrooms are looking a little more appealing. Anything is going to look expensive after not paying rent for three years, baby! More news on my apartment search to come.

Tonight: Jonatha at the Fine Line! Can’t wait!

I’m busy again. It feels good.

I’m having a love-hate affair with the rain.

On the good side:

- Worms! Worms! Worms everywhere!

- The grass is finally greening up. It’s almost as if it happened overnight.

- I can finally tell the difference between dirt banks and snow banks on the corner of every major intersection. It’s now mostly just dirt.

On the not-so-good side:

- They’re praying for the rain to stop.

That last link says it all. A repeat of ‘97? Let’s all pray not.

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Do you Yahoo?

The New York Times college edition.

The flowers are under the snow. Really. I saw them today.

I tried my hand at golf on Friday. Virtual golf, that is.

Pick a course (we chose Hawaii). Select your club (I stuck with the five-iron). Swing at the ball (yes, a real ball). Before you know it, you’ve made a frighteningly loud noise by slamming your golf ball into a vinyl screen on which the course is projected … and your ball goes sailing across the fairway on the screen in front of you. Or, in my case, the ball goes sailing into the lava rock and Pacific Ocean.

Three strokes into the game. Seventy over par. We called it quits after two hours.

And my friends told me I was a natural.

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Way to go, Tiger Woods!

It’s a gray day here. March came in like a lion. It left like a lion. And now it’s the first Monday of April. This morning: snow, then rain. Now, just clouds and gray.

My 8 a.m. meeting was in regards to a memorial service on campus this Wednesday. Three students were killed by a drunk driver two weeks ago. Not the way I usually like to spend Monday mornings.

Of course, the weekend was a relief from the grayness: Doc Severinson at Orchestra Hall on Friday. A one-day trip to Mille Lacs — for swimming, hot tubbing, dinner and breakfast, and the chance to get away. The sun even shone both days.

But now it’s cloudy again. Oh, Mondays ….

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Solar flares are increasing the chances of the Northern Lights over the next few nights … if you’re up past midnight, take a pic or two and submit them here.