august, september, october, november, december, january, february redux

If one were curious enough to Wikipedia or  Google (take your pick, similar outcomes) the oft-used term "redux" they would discover its fascinating etymology* (from the Latin reducere or "bring back"), popular, yet misappropriated, synonyms (e.g. remix [borderline acceptance; sometimes used in the music industry (where, let's be honest almost anything is permissible)], reduction, etc.), as well as some interesting pharmaceutical marketing strategies. Perhaps more pertinently, if one were patient enough to follow my intermittent (rounding up on the list of possible adjectives for a more favorable option) blogging, they may be wondering,

"Justin, why such a long and obscure, yet simultaneously straightforward, title? Isn't obvious that you haven't blogged since leaving Kuwait (save for the 12 words [including title] and video you posted last week)?"

To such wonderment I respond with a simple expression of atonement. You placed trust in me to fill your screens with witty monologues, artistic photography, and philosophical contemplation. Alas, I wronged my blogging raison d'être: you, my faithful audience. In the event that anyone is still out there in the vastness of the www wanting and waiting for me to digitally self-publish, rest assured that blogging has resumed. In fact, you know have a new layout, different title, and a great picture of Bernard Hinault leading a rain soaked 1980 Liège-Bastogne-Liège.

And now, without further delay...the six month redux (in pictures).

وداعا ، وداعا الكويت

(bye, bye Kuwait)

do you believe in magic?

Well, it's that time of the year again. Exams, term papers, and thesis defenses are a thing of days gone by; it's moving time (and the crowd goes wild). Although we initiated the moving process a few weeks ago when Carmen and I lugged a few miscellaneous boxes to an attic hideaway, the real deal began on Monday morning. After a bittersweet farewell at the Roanoke Airport (Carmen is living with her twin sister in Barcelona for the summer), I decided to busy myself with packing.

So, Zoe and I promptly went for a seven mile run. Of course, after the run there was plenty of end-of-year work to do at the office, library books to return, etc. Somewhat later than anticipated, I officially commenced stage two of the moving process. Surprised yet again by the loudness of packaging tape, I entombed a few stacks of books and miscellaneous folders within their temporary cardboard residences and glanced at the clock. Amazingly, this taxing effort had consumed 1.5 hours of my day (to be fair, much of that time was spent leafing through old notebooks and ultimately determining that most of the pages would be put to better use in the recycling bin). Given my workload and cycling commitments for the remainder of the week (culminating with a 115-mile Roubaix-ian [or even Flanderian] epic on Friday with Cole), I must learn to page through a few less novels whilst stowing away.