The other day, girl 1 told me that she likes eating her food. "Why is that, sweetie?"
"Because then I can be big JUST LIKE YOU!"
Weef and I have a very firm policy about not telling the girls they can't do something, as in "No no ... you can't get water from the fridge. Mommy or daddy will do that FOR you." We always try to encourage them to "reach for the stars," as it were.
However ...
There are some things in life you just don't want to see your kids "attain." Reaching the lofty goal of "being as big as daddy" is definitely one of them. Maybe the size of mommy, who is between 1/2 to 1/3 the size of daddy ... that's a good goal. Weighing in at roughly the size of a small manatee ... not so desirable.
Music for the Masses
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Mundane Post #4.
I am in charge of releasing a weekly newsletter. It contains varius information from all our departments under the engineering group. It also contains a bunch of crap that I throw in, like "word of the day," "quote of the day," "useless trivia that, if you already know, you probably shouldn't be working here" ... stuff like that.
This week's trivia information: the standard atomic weight of iron is 55.847 g/mol.
See? if you already knew that, you probably ought to be creating the next break-through glow-in-the-dark compound to kick that zinc sulfide's butt.
This week's trivia information: the standard atomic weight of iron is 55.847 g/mol.
See? if you already knew that, you probably ought to be creating the next break-through glow-in-the-dark compound to kick that zinc sulfide's butt.
Mundane Post #3
I really wanted to go to Costa Vida for lunch today. In my opinion, they make THE BEST nachos. Hands down.
So I did. As expected, they are delicious. Cheesy, sweet porky, sour creamy, guacamoly, black beany, and mango salsy. SOOO yummy.
So I did. As expected, they are delicious. Cheesy, sweet porky, sour creamy, guacamoly, black beany, and mango salsy. SOOO yummy.
Mundane Post #2
As promised ...
Here's a well-buried English trick: take any word that isn't a noun. Say, "once," for example. Add -ity to the end of it, and now you have a noun.
Used in a sentence: "The onceity of the situation was rather surprising, given the frequency of the combination of events."
Other word of the day: Bendy. ex. "LEDs on a printed circuit board should not be bendy."
Here's a well-buried English trick: take any word that isn't a noun. Say, "once," for example. Add -ity to the end of it, and now you have a noun.
Used in a sentence: "The onceity of the situation was rather surprising, given the frequency of the combination of events."
Other word of the day: Bendy. ex. "LEDs on a printed circuit board should not be bendy."
Mundane post #1
Today is one of those days where I feel like posting trivial stuff. Like ...
Y'all know those little brown pieces of dried-up toast in Gardetto's snacks? Yah. Those rule.
That is all. For now. Expect more mundanity throughout the day.That's right ... "mundanity."
Y'all know those little brown pieces of dried-up toast in Gardetto's snacks? Yah. Those rule.
That is all. For now. Expect more mundanity throughout the day.That's right ... "mundanity."
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
And I Thought Jr. High Was Bad ...
This is officially stupid. The "reading level" ... not my actual blog.
What is it going to take to achieve a higher reading level? Waxing verbosely eloquent with the implementation of such lexical polemics as to render one unable to read this blog without the use of a thesaurus?
Die, criticsrant. Die.
Rose Colored Glasses and Pump Pleasures
I'm not one to believe that the world is all buttered popcorn and jelly bellies, but when life is this good, you have to step back and recognize the good things that have been afforded you in the relatively recent past.
These are are in chronological order.
1. The "new" job. As my team lead put it a while ago, "You've only been here two months, but you're already old hat." This place just doesn't get old.
2. Adopting the girls. No lie: i teared up when the judge asked me point blank if I "do willingly of my own free will and choice accept these two girls as my own, and take upon [me] the responsibility of their parent." It was all I could to do squeak out an audible "yes" for the court's record, but I did ... after several seconds of lump-in-the-throat inability to speak.
3. Temple sealing. For as great as legally adopting the girls was, it didn't hold a candle to walking out of the temple, knowing that these two beautiful girls are now sealed to us for time and all eternity. That is one amazing concept.
4. New car. Yep. That's right. 2006 Honda Civic. Deep, deep blue. Gorgeous vehicle. Definitely a step up from my raggedy truck. I even went so far as to "trick it out" by putting blue LED lights in the dome and map lights. It's pretty slick.
5. Gas mileage. So, fueleconomy.gov said that the '06 civics could expect to get 36 mph on the highway. It's a rather well-accepted notion that the findings posted on that website are conservative in their estimates, meaning that we *could* expect anywhere between 36-40. I would have been happy with that range.
So far, on the first tank, we drove approximately 326 miles. Just for kicks, I tanked up today at lunch. Had I accepted the initial "click-off" of the pump, I would have pumped around 5.9 gallons. At 326 miles, that equates to approximately 55 mpg. I, however, did not accept the initial click, and proceeded to pump an additional 1.1 gallons ... to the point where the tank was almost spilling over the gas tank cap. 7 gallons at 326 equates to approximately 46.5 mpg.
Life is good. In fact, it's *really* good. I hope all (five) of my readers' lives are as good for them, in whatever aspect.
These are are in chronological order.
1. The "new" job. As my team lead put it a while ago, "You've only been here two months, but you're already old hat." This place just doesn't get old.
2. Adopting the girls. No lie: i teared up when the judge asked me point blank if I "do willingly of my own free will and choice accept these two girls as my own, and take upon [me] the responsibility of their parent." It was all I could to do squeak out an audible "yes" for the court's record, but I did ... after several seconds of lump-in-the-throat inability to speak.
3. Temple sealing. For as great as legally adopting the girls was, it didn't hold a candle to walking out of the temple, knowing that these two beautiful girls are now sealed to us for time and all eternity. That is one amazing concept.
4. New car. Yep. That's right. 2006 Honda Civic. Deep, deep blue. Gorgeous vehicle. Definitely a step up from my raggedy truck. I even went so far as to "trick it out" by putting blue LED lights in the dome and map lights. It's pretty slick.
5. Gas mileage. So, fueleconomy.gov said that the '06 civics could expect to get 36 mph on the highway. It's a rather well-accepted notion that the findings posted on that website are conservative in their estimates, meaning that we *could* expect anywhere between 36-40. I would have been happy with that range.
So far, on the first tank, we drove approximately 326 miles. Just for kicks, I tanked up today at lunch. Had I accepted the initial "click-off" of the pump, I would have pumped around 5.9 gallons. At 326 miles, that equates to approximately 55 mpg. I, however, did not accept the initial click, and proceeded to pump an additional 1.1 gallons ... to the point where the tank was almost spilling over the gas tank cap. 7 gallons at 326 equates to approximately 46.5 mpg.
Life is good. In fact, it's *really* good. I hope all (five) of my readers' lives are as good for them, in whatever aspect.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Confluence of Confusion
So last night, the 4 of us were driving back from visiting my brother and his family. As we're driving, wife says, "Hey, I think we just passed that one person you used to be friends with."
"What ...? Where?"
"Back there. Doesn't she drive blah blah blah car?"
"Yah."
"We definitely just passed her."
I have gone to great lengths to eliminate this person from my life. This came after several weeks of trying to figure out why she stabbed me in the back the way she did, and trying to fix our friendship. At this point, I can no longer afford to care or worry about it. If I were as cold-hearted as she can be, I could have let this slide back at the beginning of April when everything happened. The problem is that I *did* care. A lot. It made me sick to think that someone thought I was dumping on them, but it made me more sick to know that, in the end, our friendship was really just a big sham. A ruse. And I was the unwitting participant in one of the truly large practical jokes--our supposed friendship.
So there we were, on the highway. I really, really didn't want to see this person, so I sped up a bit and got over into our exit lane. Sure enough, though, guess who pulled in right next to us at the light. My wife being the sweetie she is wanted to wave and say hi, but I pointed out that, knowing how she's treated us lately, she'd call the cops and try to get some kind of restraining order issued.
I'm sort of a masochist, I guess. I can tell myself until every last brain cell is dead (which, at this point, would only be about 5 or 6) that I don't want to do something, and I'll do it anyway just because I'm a moron. So weef said that she was sitting right next to us, and of course, I had to look. Sure enough, there she was. I'm not sure if she had someone in the car with her or if she was just singing along to the radio, but she looked like she was talking or singing. Or whatever. She looked happy.
Then, all of the sudden, I realized that I was happy *for* her *being* happy. The last month we worked together, she always had her door shut, she rarely came out, and when she did, she always looked consternated and pissed off. I know her job sucked royally at that point, and I know that she had a really, really rough patch of it a few months ago, but beyond that, I don't know what her job entails or how things turned out because she so wholly and completely cut us out of her life. Like I said, I can't afford to worry about it at this point, but regardless, she looked happy last night. Maybe that's an indication that she's back to her "happy place."
I can't flush 4 years of friendship down the toilet. That's not me. I can't tell myself that someone who I thought was such a good friend no longer matters. If she's happy, then I'm happy for her.
"What ...? Where?"
"Back there. Doesn't she drive blah blah blah car?"
"Yah."
"We definitely just passed her."
I have gone to great lengths to eliminate this person from my life. This came after several weeks of trying to figure out why she stabbed me in the back the way she did, and trying to fix our friendship. At this point, I can no longer afford to care or worry about it. If I were as cold-hearted as she can be, I could have let this slide back at the beginning of April when everything happened. The problem is that I *did* care. A lot. It made me sick to think that someone thought I was dumping on them, but it made me more sick to know that, in the end, our friendship was really just a big sham. A ruse. And I was the unwitting participant in one of the truly large practical jokes--our supposed friendship.
So there we were, on the highway. I really, really didn't want to see this person, so I sped up a bit and got over into our exit lane. Sure enough, though, guess who pulled in right next to us at the light. My wife being the sweetie she is wanted to wave and say hi, but I pointed out that, knowing how she's treated us lately, she'd call the cops and try to get some kind of restraining order issued.
I'm sort of a masochist, I guess. I can tell myself until every last brain cell is dead (which, at this point, would only be about 5 or 6) that I don't want to do something, and I'll do it anyway just because I'm a moron. So weef said that she was sitting right next to us, and of course, I had to look. Sure enough, there she was. I'm not sure if she had someone in the car with her or if she was just singing along to the radio, but she looked like she was talking or singing. Or whatever. She looked happy.
Then, all of the sudden, I realized that I was happy *for* her *being* happy. The last month we worked together, she always had her door shut, she rarely came out, and when she did, she always looked consternated and pissed off. I know her job sucked royally at that point, and I know that she had a really, really rough patch of it a few months ago, but beyond that, I don't know what her job entails or how things turned out because she so wholly and completely cut us out of her life. Like I said, I can't afford to worry about it at this point, but regardless, she looked happy last night. Maybe that's an indication that she's back to her "happy place."
I can't flush 4 years of friendship down the toilet. That's not me. I can't tell myself that someone who I thought was such a good friend no longer matters. If she's happy, then I'm happy for her.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Guilty Pleasures
So, I was in our old bathroom, doing what bathrooms are designed to allow. Afterwards, I stuck around and poked through our cabinets, seeing what missing treasures we'd forgotten are still stuck in the now un-used bathroom (we moved ourselves downstairs and gave the girls our room about 6 months or so ago). Amongst the half-used tubes of toothpaste and deoderant sticks was a nearly-full bottle of vicks vapo-steam concentrate. Ideally speaking and assuming a spouse doesn't become highly agitated by the use of a vaporizor laden with this elixer, one would pour some of the concentrate into a humidifier and allow the steam to loosen your chest and clear your sinus passages. However, no such assumption can be made on my part anymore due to weef's adamant and vehement non-concurrence of use.
That does NOT mean that I can't unscrew the lid and take a nice, long, healthy sniff straight from the bottle. I know that sounds completely addict-like. Don't care. I *love* the smell of vicks vapo-ANYthing. Once upon a time, I could buy these little tubes that look like chapstick, but no no--it was a portable Vicks vapo-stick. One quick snort of this stuff, and my eyes would water, nose would drain, throat would clear, lungs would magically expunge all loose phlegm ... it was wonderful. All for a couple of whiffs.
Ahhh ... the good old days.
This stuff rules. Hands down.
That does NOT mean that I can't unscrew the lid and take a nice, long, healthy sniff straight from the bottle. I know that sounds completely addict-like. Don't care. I *love* the smell of vicks vapo-ANYthing. Once upon a time, I could buy these little tubes that look like chapstick, but no no--it was a portable Vicks vapo-stick. One quick snort of this stuff, and my eyes would water, nose would drain, throat would clear, lungs would magically expunge all loose phlegm ... it was wonderful. All for a couple of whiffs.
Ahhh ... the good old days.
This stuff rules. Hands down.
It Is Official!
The adoption is finalized, and we have been sealed for time and all eternity to girls 1 and 2. They are ours and we are theirs forever. What a beautiful concept.
Monday and Tuesday were extremely emotional days for us. On one hand, we were elated to have everything finished through the state, and we were overjoyed at the new beginning we have with going with the girls to the temple.
However ...
Along with the elation came strong feelings of doubt and worry. Can we do this? SHOULD we do this? HOW are we going to to this? I mean, yah--we've had them in the house for over 8 months, and I'm pretty sure I speak for both my wife and myself, but we simply have no clue what we're doing. I know, I know ... "Yah, there's no user manual with these kinds of things. You get to learn it all on the fly!" My philosophy is that there are some things that should not be learned on the fly. How to tuck and roll off a bike as you're careening down a hill is okay. Learning to point your toes as you fall out the back end of a disintegrating plane at 10,000 feet over a large body of water is okay too. Parenting, however, is not something you want to just "fling" yourself into. There *needs* to be a manual.
But it's impossible. I just look at our two girls and recognize immediately the futility of trying to write such a manual. These two have some striking personality similarities, but they also have some very distinct differences. Girl 1 is manipulative and is constantly trying to get her way. Girl 2 also wants to get her way, but she doesn't try to finagle the system like girl 1 does. Girl 1 is excellent at figuring out things for herself. Girl 2 gives up rather easily. Now ... there are about 16 months age difference between the two, but I don't believe that all of the differences are age related. Some, maybe ... most are just personality differences.
Which brings me back to my original point of not writing a user manual. Honestly, the appendices would far outweigh the actual text.
Monday and Tuesday were extremely emotional days for us. On one hand, we were elated to have everything finished through the state, and we were overjoyed at the new beginning we have with going with the girls to the temple.
However ...
Along with the elation came strong feelings of doubt and worry. Can we do this? SHOULD we do this? HOW are we going to to this? I mean, yah--we've had them in the house for over 8 months, and I'm pretty sure I speak for both my wife and myself, but we simply have no clue what we're doing. I know, I know ... "Yah, there's no user manual with these kinds of things. You get to learn it all on the fly!" My philosophy is that there are some things that should not be learned on the fly. How to tuck and roll off a bike as you're careening down a hill is okay. Learning to point your toes as you fall out the back end of a disintegrating plane at 10,000 feet over a large body of water is okay too. Parenting, however, is not something you want to just "fling" yourself into. There *needs* to be a manual.
But it's impossible. I just look at our two girls and recognize immediately the futility of trying to write such a manual. These two have some striking personality similarities, but they also have some very distinct differences. Girl 1 is manipulative and is constantly trying to get her way. Girl 2 also wants to get her way, but she doesn't try to finagle the system like girl 1 does. Girl 1 is excellent at figuring out things for herself. Girl 2 gives up rather easily. Now ... there are about 16 months age difference between the two, but I don't believe that all of the differences are age related. Some, maybe ... most are just personality differences.
Which brings me back to my original point of not writing a user manual. Honestly, the appendices would far outweigh the actual text.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Crooked Dealership
I'm not one to typically trash an establishment of any kind, but when the lying is this blatant, I need to vent.
Last night, my wife and I went car shopping. We went to one dealership first. The salesman was nice enough. Not a lot of glad-handing or innane babble ... just some general ideas of what's on the lot and asked us some need-to-know questions to get us to the cars we were interested in. We ended up test-driving a nice 2005 Toyota Corolla. Lovely car.
Not wanting to rush into the first car we test drive, we told the salesman that we'd need to test drive some other vehicles, and that we would definitely let him know what the scoop is--one way or the other. He was that nice. So we went across the street, and immediately tumbled down all 7 levels and across the river Styx to the 3rd inner ring of car salesman hell.
This kid comes bumbling over to us, and I already didn't like him. He just had this air of arrogance and stupidity about him that irked me from the get-go. "OHhhh ... so you're looking for a car, eh? WHat kind?"
"Well, our budget is XX.XX. What do you have for that or under?"
"Hmmm ... not a lot. But we have this fabulous (insert whatever make and model here) for about YY.YY!! How about we get you behind the wheel and take a test drive?! HUH? HUH!?!?!?"
At that point, we should have turned around and left. We didn't. We did, however, test drive a lovely 2006 Honda Civic. I'm convinced that that will be our next car, but not from that place.
The Civic didn't have a sticker price on it. Or chalk price. Or paint price. No price whatsoever. Now, I told Jr. what our budget was. After he tried showing us these other pricey cars, I reminded him of what our budget is. "Oh, alright. Let's take a look at this Civic." So we did. Drove it, loved it. Still no idea what the price is. "Find out what the price is and TELL ME."
"Okay, but let me ask you this. If I can make the numbers work, would I be able to earn your business today?"
"Ummmm ... what?"
"If I can get the numbers to work for you, would I be able to earn your business today?"
What a stupid question. "Of course. Why wouldn't I buy it if the numbers work for us?"
So we go in. Instead of crunching numbers, he hands us a credit application.
"Hey. What does this have to do with the price of the car?"
"Oh, well ... nothing, but while I'm figuring out what I can do for you, let's start filling out the application. Just in case!"
Wow. I really wanted to take this kid and tie him to a barbed wire fence and throw tomatoes at him. I didn't though. Know why? Cuz at my core, I'm actually quite nice. :)
He comes back. "Okay, so, like we discussed (which we never did), you might need to consider a bump. You said you would (no I didn't). Right now, I can get you into this car for (double what we told Jr. our budget is)."
"I hate to point this out to you, but that's not a bump. That's a sink hole. And I'm not jumping in."
"Well, I told you what the range would be; you knew that ..."
"Look. you told me nothing about the price of that car. I asked you repeatedly if you had found out anything about it, and you always said 'no.' The car is our of our range, and I'm not buying it. Period."
"but you said if I could make the numbers work, I could earn your business."
"And you could have ... IF the price were IN OUR BUDGET. Remember that figure I gave you when we came on the lot and have been constantly reminding you of what our budget is? That IS WHAT IT IS."
"Well, what if I could keep the montly payment under, say, $250?"
"I don't care what the montly payment is. I'm interested in THE BUDGET."
"So, if you have a $XXXX car and your payment is $500, you're okay with that?"
"Yes, because it's about the budget--not the monthly payment. We'll have the car paid for within a matter of months--not years. You have no early pay-off penalties, so it doesn't make sense for me to draw out the payments over 3, 4 or even 5 years if I can pay it off in 5-6 months, now does it?"
"Well, I showed you what we have in your budget. Those are the cars we have."
"Yah. And you also showed us a bunch of cars that weren't in our budget, and basically wasted our time."
No lie--all told we were there for 3 hours. My wife and I left feeling dirty, clogged and royally pissed off. We decided that we didn't care of that Civic dropped to $50; we're not buying a single thing from that dealership.
Ironically, I came home and did some Kelly Blue Book number crunching of my own. According to their site, the dealership was over-selling the car by about $7000. No lie. I'm sorely tempted to print off this report, march over to the dealership, call out the sales manager, and throw that in his face. But I won't. Cuz I'm a nice guy. Just don't piss me off. :)
Last night, my wife and I went car shopping. We went to one dealership first. The salesman was nice enough. Not a lot of glad-handing or innane babble ... just some general ideas of what's on the lot and asked us some need-to-know questions to get us to the cars we were interested in. We ended up test-driving a nice 2005 Toyota Corolla. Lovely car.
Not wanting to rush into the first car we test drive, we told the salesman that we'd need to test drive some other vehicles, and that we would definitely let him know what the scoop is--one way or the other. He was that nice. So we went across the street, and immediately tumbled down all 7 levels and across the river Styx to the 3rd inner ring of car salesman hell.
This kid comes bumbling over to us, and I already didn't like him. He just had this air of arrogance and stupidity about him that irked me from the get-go. "OHhhh ... so you're looking for a car, eh? WHat kind?"
"Well, our budget is XX.XX. What do you have for that or under?"
"Hmmm ... not a lot. But we have this fabulous (insert whatever make and model here) for about YY.YY!! How about we get you behind the wheel and take a test drive?! HUH? HUH!?!?!?"
At that point, we should have turned around and left. We didn't. We did, however, test drive a lovely 2006 Honda Civic. I'm convinced that that will be our next car, but not from that place.
The Civic didn't have a sticker price on it. Or chalk price. Or paint price. No price whatsoever. Now, I told Jr. what our budget was. After he tried showing us these other pricey cars, I reminded him of what our budget is. "Oh, alright. Let's take a look at this Civic." So we did. Drove it, loved it. Still no idea what the price is. "Find out what the price is and TELL ME."
"Okay, but let me ask you this. If I can make the numbers work, would I be able to earn your business today?"
"Ummmm ... what?"
"If I can get the numbers to work for you, would I be able to earn your business today?"
What a stupid question. "Of course. Why wouldn't I buy it if the numbers work for us?"
So we go in. Instead of crunching numbers, he hands us a credit application.
"Hey. What does this have to do with the price of the car?"
"Oh, well ... nothing, but while I'm figuring out what I can do for you, let's start filling out the application. Just in case!"
Wow. I really wanted to take this kid and tie him to a barbed wire fence and throw tomatoes at him. I didn't though. Know why? Cuz at my core, I'm actually quite nice. :)
He comes back. "Okay, so, like we discussed (which we never did), you might need to consider a bump. You said you would (no I didn't). Right now, I can get you into this car for (double what we told Jr. our budget is)."
"I hate to point this out to you, but that's not a bump. That's a sink hole. And I'm not jumping in."
"Well, I told you what the range would be; you knew that ..."
"Look. you told me nothing about the price of that car. I asked you repeatedly if you had found out anything about it, and you always said 'no.' The car is our of our range, and I'm not buying it. Period."
"but you said if I could make the numbers work, I could earn your business."
"And you could have ... IF the price were IN OUR BUDGET. Remember that figure I gave you when we came on the lot and have been constantly reminding you of what our budget is? That IS WHAT IT IS."
"Well, what if I could keep the montly payment under, say, $250?"
"I don't care what the montly payment is. I'm interested in THE BUDGET."
"So, if you have a $XXXX car and your payment is $500, you're okay with that?"
"Yes, because it's about the budget--not the monthly payment. We'll have the car paid for within a matter of months--not years. You have no early pay-off penalties, so it doesn't make sense for me to draw out the payments over 3, 4 or even 5 years if I can pay it off in 5-6 months, now does it?"
"Well, I showed you what we have in your budget. Those are the cars we have."
"Yah. And you also showed us a bunch of cars that weren't in our budget, and basically wasted our time."
No lie--all told we were there for 3 hours. My wife and I left feeling dirty, clogged and royally pissed off. We decided that we didn't care of that Civic dropped to $50; we're not buying a single thing from that dealership.
Ironically, I came home and did some Kelly Blue Book number crunching of my own. According to their site, the dealership was over-selling the car by about $7000. No lie. I'm sorely tempted to print off this report, march over to the dealership, call out the sales manager, and throw that in his face. But I won't. Cuz I'm a nice guy. Just don't piss me off. :)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
No More Doing the Dew
Or Coke. Or Pepsi. Or Dr. Pepper. Or 7-Up, Sprite, Root Beer . . . if it's carbonated and drinkable, I will not imbibe. Unless it's sparkling cider.
"Wow. Why the oh-so-dramatic change, there, Hoss?"
Let me tell you.
I am extremely susceptible to kidney infections. So much so that a 2-day "binge" of test-driving the new Mt. Dew flavors was enough to cause a renal revolt on a corporeal level. My body pretty much shut down entirely: Muscles ached of their own accord; my stomach insisted upon performing flips worthy of Barnum & Bailey's travelling freak show; temperature spiked to 102.
Through all of this, and being the corporate flunky that I am, I decided to trudge in to work on Monday. That was a huge mistake. I work a little under 40 miles from my house. The commute down sucked pretty badly. The next few hours are basically a blur. If the men's room had frequent flyer miles, I would have been a medallion member by 9 am. Finally, sitting at my desk at 9:45 and propping myself up on both hands and elbows, and after having no less than 3 people telling me that I was actually whiter than my shirt (not too far a stretch; it was a rather tan color), I decided that it was time to go. Ideally speaking, "go" would have meant "to heaven," but apparently Heavenly Father has other plans for me. Probably a good thing, since we're adopting the girls on MONDAY! Another blog post for another day, though.
Like I said, I live about 40 miles from work. It should come as no surprise that, in order for me to get home, I had to drive that same 40 miles to get back to the house. The problem was my body was already in shut-down mode. I haven't had that much trouble staying awake since our last high council speaker. OH! Where's a rim shot when you need one?
Anyway, got home, said hi to weef and the girls, and collapsed into bed. 4 hours of sleep later, I got up, had a drink of water,
10:30 pm
Yah . . . sometimes getting kids to bed sucks.
Anyway, yah. now I'm all sore again. Gotta sleep. Short story long, I shouldn't have drunk that Mt. Dew, yet I did, and now . . . I am where I am.
"Wow. Why the oh-so-dramatic change, there, Hoss?"
Let me tell you.
I am extremely susceptible to kidney infections. So much so that a 2-day "binge" of test-driving the new Mt. Dew flavors was enough to cause a renal revolt on a corporeal level. My body pretty much shut down entirely: Muscles ached of their own accord; my stomach insisted upon performing flips worthy of Barnum & Bailey's travelling freak show; temperature spiked to 102.
Through all of this, and being the corporate flunky that I am, I decided to trudge in to work on Monday. That was a huge mistake. I work a little under 40 miles from my house. The commute down sucked pretty badly. The next few hours are basically a blur. If the men's room had frequent flyer miles, I would have been a medallion member by 9 am. Finally, sitting at my desk at 9:45 and propping myself up on both hands and elbows, and after having no less than 3 people telling me that I was actually whiter than my shirt (not too far a stretch; it was a rather tan color), I decided that it was time to go. Ideally speaking, "go" would have meant "to heaven," but apparently Heavenly Father has other plans for me. Probably a good thing, since we're adopting the girls on MONDAY! Another blog post for another day, though.
Like I said, I live about 40 miles from work. It should come as no surprise that, in order for me to get home, I had to drive that same 40 miles to get back to the house. The problem was my body was already in shut-down mode. I haven't had that much trouble staying awake since our last high council speaker. OH! Where's a rim shot when you need one?
Anyway, got home, said hi to weef and the girls, and collapsed into bed. 4 hours of sleep later, I got up, had a drink of water,
10:30 pm
Yah . . . sometimes getting kids to bed sucks.
Anyway, yah. now I'm all sore again. Gotta sleep. Short story long, I shouldn't have drunk that Mt. Dew, yet I did, and now . . . I am where I am.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Moses of the Highway
Bizarro.
So, this morning, as a break from my routine of leaving at 6:15 to be to work at 7, I had breakfast at Rancheritos with some friends at 6:30. It was lovely. Caught up a bit with how they're doing, found out some interesting information about the goings-on at the old job, and then we all had to take off. It was about 6:45 when I actually hit the highway.
Anticipating the brake-tapping and general non-speedy highway conditions, I threw on some good, awake-y music on my ipod. Generally, I'll make it through 10-12 songs that are around 5 minutes each. Today, I made it through 7. I was here at 7:20--20 minutes later than normal. That's a small price to pay for having breakfast with friends. :)
The odd thing was the traffic flow pattern: there was so little traffic that, at one point, there was about a block between me and the next car in front and behind me. I had the whole highway to myself for a quarter mile. It was lovely. There was the occasional straggler that lagged behind the mass in front of me, or the lead foot who had to zip ahead of me to the next clump of cars, but for the most part, it was me and a whole lot of blacktop.
It has to be Friday. :)
So, this morning, as a break from my routine of leaving at 6:15 to be to work at 7, I had breakfast at Rancheritos with some friends at 6:30. It was lovely. Caught up a bit with how they're doing, found out some interesting information about the goings-on at the old job, and then we all had to take off. It was about 6:45 when I actually hit the highway.
Anticipating the brake-tapping and general non-speedy highway conditions, I threw on some good, awake-y music on my ipod. Generally, I'll make it through 10-12 songs that are around 5 minutes each. Today, I made it through 7. I was here at 7:20--20 minutes later than normal. That's a small price to pay for having breakfast with friends. :)
The odd thing was the traffic flow pattern: there was so little traffic that, at one point, there was about a block between me and the next car in front and behind me. I had the whole highway to myself for a quarter mile. It was lovely. There was the occasional straggler that lagged behind the mass in front of me, or the lead foot who had to zip ahead of me to the next clump of cars, but for the most part, it was me and a whole lot of blacktop.
It has to be Friday. :)
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The Day that Almost Got Away
"It's calms like these that normally indcate the shizac-storm to end all is about to hit. It's for that reason that days like these are so great . . . and so absolutely terrifying."
That was from yesterday's blog.
Today, I got an email from a friend from my previous employer. Suffice it to say that I wasn't prepared for the contents. Instantly, I was in a funk, and all these self-disparaging feelings immediately boiled to the surface. I know this person didn't intend for that to happen, and certainly nothing that caused these feelings of self-doubt and confusion were brought on by anything this friend said or did. Nevertheless, the feelings were there. I felt like I wanted to crawl under a rock and burrow into the dirt just to hide from the past.
And then they were gone. In one fell swoop, the feelings were gone. I remembered something I was told way back in February from Someone infinitely more capable of knowing the true story of *every*thing.
I'll admit--it was a close call this morning. I could feel the day slipping away and I was becoming rather depressed. Then I remembered what I felt way back in February . . . and I just stopped caring. Not in a "daily affirmation" kind of way, but I am a great guy. I'm nice, I'm friendly, I'm fun, and I'm worth being friends with. If someone doesn't feel that way, I can't do anything about it. In no way am I going to let that place or person drag me down any more than I have already allowed. I'm happy where I am, and that's good enough for me.
That was from yesterday's blog.
Today, I got an email from a friend from my previous employer. Suffice it to say that I wasn't prepared for the contents. Instantly, I was in a funk, and all these self-disparaging feelings immediately boiled to the surface. I know this person didn't intend for that to happen, and certainly nothing that caused these feelings of self-doubt and confusion were brought on by anything this friend said or did. Nevertheless, the feelings were there. I felt like I wanted to crawl under a rock and burrow into the dirt just to hide from the past.
And then they were gone. In one fell swoop, the feelings were gone. I remembered something I was told way back in February from Someone infinitely more capable of knowing the true story of *every*thing.
I'll admit--it was a close call this morning. I could feel the day slipping away and I was becoming rather depressed. Then I remembered what I felt way back in February . . . and I just stopped caring. Not in a "daily affirmation" kind of way, but I am a great guy. I'm nice, I'm friendly, I'm fun, and I'm worth being friends with. If someone doesn't feel that way, I can't do anything about it. In no way am I going to let that place or person drag me down any more than I have already allowed. I'm happy where I am, and that's good enough for me.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
There Are Just Some Days that Are Just That Excellent
Today, it's raining, it's chilly, and it's frickin' lovely. Today just has one of "those" feelings to it. The grab-a-bowl-of-popcorn-and-a-good-movie feelings--the kind of day where you just stare out the window and know that everything in the world, or maybe just your world, is okay.
It's calms like these that normally indcate the shizac-storm to end all is about to hit. It's for that reason that days like these are so great . . . and so absolutely terrifying.
But for right now, the day is great. I'm busy with work (clearly . . .), we're getting ready for the adoption finalization, the Redwings could lock up Lord Stanley's cup tonight, and yah.
I guess there are some days where you're just really grateful for little things--like weather, or good sleep, or knowing that you're doing a good job at your new job, or that you have a loving family and good friends, or that you have a pint of ben and jerry's waiting for you at home, or that you have a ton of good music to listen to while working, or . . . well, anything that puts a smile on your face. Right now, that smile is born of an internal feeling of okay-ness. In a few minutes, it could be from the little walk i'm going to take to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. after that, it might be the walk to the next building over to grab some lunch.
Little things make for great feelings. Sometimes, when you stop and think about it, those "little" things aren't so little. Not if they can induce a big smile.
It's calms like these that normally indcate the shizac-storm to end all is about to hit. It's for that reason that days like these are so great . . . and so absolutely terrifying.
But for right now, the day is great. I'm busy with work (clearly . . .), we're getting ready for the adoption finalization, the Redwings could lock up Lord Stanley's cup tonight, and yah.
I guess there are some days where you're just really grateful for little things--like weather, or good sleep, or knowing that you're doing a good job at your new job, or that you have a loving family and good friends, or that you have a pint of ben and jerry's waiting for you at home, or that you have a ton of good music to listen to while working, or . . . well, anything that puts a smile on your face. Right now, that smile is born of an internal feeling of okay-ness. In a few minutes, it could be from the little walk i'm going to take to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. after that, it might be the walk to the next building over to grab some lunch.
Little things make for great feelings. Sometimes, when you stop and think about it, those "little" things aren't so little. Not if they can induce a big smile.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
On a Much More Positive Note
My new toy:
Indeed, that is 160GB of ipodery. Weef is inheriting my "old" 80gb ipod. She's sad. Okay, not really.
Indeed, that is 160GB of ipodery. Weef is inheriting my "old" 80gb ipod. She's sad. Okay, not really.
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