As many of you have come to expect over the
past four years, it’s time for that yearly display of hubris known
as The Festive Gnus. And this year, as in past years, we struggle mightily
to fill this space with exciting and newsworthy items to fool you into thinking
that we didn’t spend the last 365 days camped out in front of the
television, munching on take-out food, and wondering whether we should straighten
up a bit before the maid comes just prior to the realization that we don’t
actually have a maid.
Some of us got a year older, wishing perhaps that we had gotten two or more years older, while the rest of us tried to tighten the brakes on the wheels of time just a little. That is to say, it was a year like many others and, at the same time, completely unlike all the others. And so it goes.
After putting it off until it couldn’t be put off any longer without risking the wrath of the Entertainment Police, we hopped a flight to Anaheim and visited the home of the world’s most famous rodent, Mickey the Rodent. Bridget, as can be seen in the attached photo, slept through Splash Mountain, but the older folks enjoyed it immensely.
Sadly, we arrived just a bit too soon to try out the not-yet-completed Tower of Terror, but Bridget made up for that later in the year by returning to the scene of the crime during her annual Visit to Pauma Valley.
Jen spent the year not changing jobs, a first for her. Her primary patient, seen to the right, is generally passive and doesn’t move around a lot, but this is the general idea. (For those of you who missed it last year, Jen works with a patient simulator to teach residents the intricacies of heart catheterization. Thanks to the virtual nature of the simulator, nobody actually dies when the doctor makes a mistake.) Jen’s SimSuite Center is among the busiest in the SimSuite universe.
Not content to simply sit in front of the television wondering who would
be voted off the island next, we all loaded up the car and headed for the
hills. Point Reyes hills, that is. After a particularly close encounter
with some raccoons, who were caught backing into the bushes with what was
to have been our evening repast, Bridget was heard to observe that “raccoons
But we were there to commune with nature, to be next to the sea, and to dive head-first into beds of poison oak so that others might eat. Which we did, and we survived to tell the tale.
Frenzy continued unabated in the Meyer household. There are many theories
for this, but most agree that it has something to do with Vlade Divac, formerly
of the Sacramento Kings. He is pictured here pointing, as if to say “Bridget...
you should go to basketball camp!”
Bridget took this advice, thanks to her parents (who were the ones to sign her up, after all!) and things started to change.
While she had seemed somewhat out of focus at times, the regimentation of camp soon started to kick in, and her entire game sharpened up. Her passes gained zip, her shots gained accuracy, and her court savvy improved tremendously. And since one camp is never enough, Bridget’s intrepid parents sent her to yet another basketball camp, one hosted by both Vlade Divac and Peja Stojakovic. There is no truth to the rumor that Bridget so intimidated Vlade that he left town, by the way!
One more year has gone by, another year of growth, of promise, of adventure, and yes, of sitting around on the couch eating fast food and wondering who was going to be voted off the island. As our fragile planet hurtles through space on its way around the sun, we wish all of you the very best that the new year can offer.
Special Holiday Multimedia Bonus!