Oh, good lord, dog, yes, still alive. Still stupid cute.

There's a thunderstorm raging in the Bay Area tonight. It has been a long, long time since I've heard thunder this strong in the Bay Area, and this bit of water from the sky doesn't really compare to a Midwest Thunderstorm™. However, it is nice to see the water coming down.

When the thunder rolled the house, shaking the dogs awake, I had to go outside. Kris put on his jacket and shoes, while I stripped down to bare feet and shirt, running outside screaming to the sky, "IS THIS ALL YOU GOT?" with arms thrown wide to the gods.

That's right, I used "got" at the top of my lungs. Mark it for posterity.

I've been going through the last two remaining boxes of paperwork in the house. I started with over 30 boxes of paperwork two years ago, and have managed to scan and discard or shred just about every piece of paper with any information of worth in those boxes. One of these last two boxes is full of the pain-in-the-ass things that require some thought ("Do I keep the hard copy of the deed, or will a digital version be sufficient?"). The other box is, surprisingly, new. I hadn't gone through it yet, and really, I didn't think there were any virgin boxes left.

So, I opened it up and started at the top, touching each paper once and dealing with it: toss, scan and toss, scan and shred, scan and archive in a box that will be sealed and scheduled to be shredded unopened in seven years, or just shred.

To both my amusement and my embarrassment, I came across my Christmas present from my Dad from seven years ago:

I laughed, because really now, this is why he hands me cash when I visit. He knows I'm just going to frame the checks he sends, because I like his signature.

What I wasn't expecting, however, was the envelope next to the check.

Not remembering it, I opened it up to find:

Yeah.

I wonder if they're still good.

Anyone want to go to the movies with me? Dad's paying.