Category: general

Tonight, Sharaun and I went out for our Valentines Day dinner. (I wanted to write that sentence as, “Tonight was Sharaun and I’s Valentines Day dinner,” or “Tonight was Sharaun and my Valentines Day dinner,” but I have never known how to say “someone and I/my” as a possessive so I chickened out). Anyway, we had traded babysitting with some friends of ours, watching their toddler while they did their Valentines and they’d in turn take Keaton while we did ours.

The dinner itself was so fraught with buffoonery that it was remarkable. First, our order was laughably wrong; next, our bill was incredibly incorrect; next-next, they charged my dinner to someone else’s card, his dinner to mine, and returned the wrong credit cards to each of us (of course, the other guy didn’t notice, signed his receipt, and left with my card); next-next-next, they refused to apologize or do anything other than attempt to “charge me later if the other guy calls when he notices he has the wrong card.” It was one insane example of incompetence after another, thirty minutes of it, while we were left to simply rot at our empty table. Finally, I got up and told them I was leaving, and canceling my credit card. I left them my name and phone number in case they wanted to talk about it, but stated that I planned to dispute any charge from them that evening that made it through prior to my card being canceled.

As old ladies on Andy Griffith say, “Well, I never!”

Got a bug today over lunch and went out with the weed spray to do some killin’. I also pushed the fertilizer spreader thing around to try and green-up my sullen yard. You’d think that the same lack of winter rain which has left my grass brown and crunchy would also mean no weeds. But, no, the weeds are in full bloom. It’s as if their roots drill deep into the Earth and have tapped some hidden spring, they’re always healthy and verdant, thriving even in this drought. The lawn, on the other hand, suffers miserably. I’m back to running the sprinklers in the morning to try and put some life back into it, which is something I’ve not done this late in winter (early in spring?) since I’ve had the place.

Compared to my neighbors, I’m somewhat disgusted with my lawn. Some of theirs look painted on, brilliant deep green and as thick and lush as new shag. Mine is weed-speckled and thin, whispy and here-and-there, looking on the edge of death. In the summer it usually picks up, but it’s still no prizewinner. I’m convinced that my lack of a green thumb is not to blame, but rather my unfortunate choice of lot. The corner lot, erected on a seeming bed of compacted rock with little to no soil at all in between to retain water. The lot itself a product of clearing the land above and below for other lots, a pile of crap beaten flat yet still pitched at a fierce slant, with a large burm and hollow right in the front yard. I’m convinced the grass can find precious little soil in which to root, and that what soil there is drains either too fast or not at all depending on the lay of the land. I’m also convinced the irrigation system was poorly designed. It’s an all-over mess. It’s not because I suck at things green, I promise.

May or may not post Friday, as I’m taking a vacation day and may not be inclined. Goodnight.

Monday, a free day off and the culmination of the three-day weekend. Monday, and I’m stuck inside with a terrible case of the shits. Started yesterday, got to feeling sick and spent most of the day in bed sleeping, a real drag. Whenever I do that, I get to feeling guilty because I leave Sharaun with everything, when normally the weekends are times when she can expect to rely on me for break from 24/7 baby-care. So I lounged around all day, not eating because I hadn’t the appetite, and not reading because my head felt soggy and focusing on the tiny words made everything swirl. I did, however, continue to contemplate this idea of writing in my spare time. I know, I already do, but not here. I mean trying to piece together a real manuscript. I think that, if I do decide to write something, it’ll be largely based on my own experiences growing up – it just seems like I have the most potential words there. I’d likely fabricate some, appropriate others, and exaggerate here and there – but, then again, that is my life so… no change there. I don’t know… whatever.

Lately I’ve been revisiting a certain daydream: Sharaun and Keaton and I have gone hiking/camping, and the morning after our we first pitched camp and spent our first night in the backcountry, we wake up to torrential rain. The rain traps us in our little tent, but it’s fine because we have plenty of food and water and supplies. We have books we can read ourselves and to the baby, we have snacks, clean diapers, everything. And so we while away the day in our little self-sufficient cocoon (the problem of using the bathroom blissfully solved for the purpose of the daydream), playing games and talking and listening to the rain as we stay warm and dry. I always picture that milky light of a gray rainy sky filtered through tent fabric, imagine cuddling up with the family, resigned to our fate, trapped for a day of forced-timeout. Another womb fantasy, I’m full of them.

I’ve sat here now for ~20min trying to think up another paragraph. That means I’m done. Goodnight.

Mmmm… entry of randomness that could’ve gone up yesterday had I not worked until 10pm. That went over well on Valentines day, as you might imagine. Flying home from out of state and getting right on the computer to work. Not to mention I went into that damned factory at 6:30am this morning to get some more catching-up done. Well, I’m caught up now, for the most part – but it sure didn’t get me laid for Valentines Day. What a shame, work before cooter… what have I become? Read on, though, my friends… there’s plenty of stuff here to keep you busy for ~5mins.

Got in one of those “I have too much stuff” moods tonight. Tore through the few CDs I held onto when I did my massive CD dump for laser eyes and threw away everything but the very bare essentials. Even then, I plan to sell these essentials via eBay or some other online wares-hawking place. Used Craigslist for the first time tonight also, as a seller, that is. Getting rid of the massive CD shelves which once held all those beloved bits of plastic… gotta squeeze every last drop out of that part of my CD-hoarding life. The ease of selling things online is somewhat of a rush, and I start looking around the house evaluating the tons of shit we have as warehoused merchandise, priced to move. I’m gonna sell it all, gonna make room, shed some goods, make some bread. Y’know, I think I’ll also donate some books to the library. Surely I can write that that off next year, and who needs these things taking up space anyhow? That’s right, I’m mad!

Speaking of my laser-eyes, I’m made a follow-up appointment to go in and have them checked next week. Well, one of them at least – mostly because it’s all kinds of fucked up. OK, that’s harsh, but something is wrong. Since the surgery, my eyes have been pretty dry, even to the point of annoying discomfort at times. But over the past few weeks my right eye has been acting really odd. At first it just felt irritated, overly-sensitive or something, like there was some dirt or an eyelash in there. Then, I noticed my night-vision in that eye was a bit off, whereas both eyes had previously been laser-awesome. Since this week however, I can definitely tell a difference in my right all, and not just at night – this is an all-the-time kinda difference. It’s not that the vision is that unclear, but compared to the hawkish wonder of my left, it’s like having a layer of vaseline on the right. Hope it can be fixed. I have free “touchups” until May, not that I’m thrilled about the prospect of getting it surgered again…

Tomorrow is the first day of a three-day weekend, which I’m quite excited about. Not to mention, my folks get into town on Thursday, so I’m taking Friday off – which means I have a total of three working days next week. This is good, because things are so damn busy; but this is also bad, because things are so damn busy. That weekend is Keaton’s first birthday party, it should be good. Well, providing she gets over this flu-ish thing she’s rocking right now. Nothing like an impromptu bath at 2am to clean off a vomit-covered baby. Poor thing, she’s such a trooper, must have my tolerance for pain. On the other hand, she’s going to be one year old!! Cast your minds back with me down memory lane, and look how she’s changed….

I think I’m going to write a book. No, seriously. It’ll be a semi-non-fiction account of my life, with some more exiting bits misappropriated and assumed from others’ lives, TV, etc. It’ll be everything I love, telling stories about the things I used to do, it’ll be the reason I started this blog. I want to write tersely and rough, just simple sentences. Kind of like the Mike Fahey entry from the other day (not his real name, by the way, for those who may have been concerned). I really like that one – I think I want to write a book kind of like that. I bet I could write something I’d be proud of in a little more than a year… keeping only the best bits. I wonder if I could make any money? I guess I’d have to learn to write first.

I’ve got a friend at work who’s just starting to get into the Beatles in earnest. I mean, pretty much everyone is aware of the Beatles. Beatles-awareness, you might say, is somewhat ubiquitous if you’re at all up on the history of pop culture or music. You can’t avoid the Beatles, but you don’t have to like them. Oh, you might know the “nah nah nah” from Hey Jude, but that doesn’t mean you’re making a “study” of the group. My buddy is, though.. making a “study” of it, I mean. And, being a humongous Beatles nerd myself, I’m so jealous of his first-time-hearin’ ass.

The other day he has the gall to tell me he “really listened” to Sgt. Pepper, for the first time on headphones, over the weekend. Oh, the humanity!! Can you imagine my heart tearing as he waxed on about his appreciation for the diversity on the album? I can only hope for that feeting moment when I remember how amazing it was to hear the stabbing intro to “It’s Getting Better” for the first time, but it’s gone for me. I know it all inside and out. Every fart on tape, every missed lick, every doffed hi-hat. I still love every groove, savor every harmony, but that Beatles-virgin cherry-popping feeling is gone. Enjoy it, my friend… enjoy it while you can.

Goodnight.

It’s cold here and snowing, which is kind of nice, actually, being that I’m just visiting and don’t have to live here. We drove home from the bar tonight in the snow, the Kia got loose a couple times on the backend with the roads so slippery and icy. The plows were out, it was cool. We drank microbrew and ate brisket and talked skiing and international travel and nerdy engineering stuff, we all played at bigshots, pretending we had high-power information and made high-power decisions. We all knew that if the snow swallowed us up forever, though, that the machine would churn right along with nary a hiccup. It’s OK, we’re not that delusional, more like functionally-delusional. I fly home tomorrow, Valentines Day, surprisingly Sharaun didn’t bust my balls to much about that. We weren’t planning on celebrating that day anyway, we have babysitters to coordinate and whatnot, we’ve got strings now. Anyway, I’ve got a first class upgrade again, so it should be nice. Customer meetings went well too, so all-in-all it was a profitable trip.

I watched X Files until midnight last night, I wanted to go to bed but the hotel room was freezing and I wasn’t tired. I’d finished my book and called Sharaun, so I didn’t have anything to do but not-sleep. I was cold even under the covers, and the thermostat only has two settings: freezing or sauna. In the end, I opted for sauna and just tossed the covers aside. I tried to get to bed early, since I had to wake up and iron my shirt, but it didn’t work. I still like being in a hotel room though, always have. Reminds me of the freedom and fun of family vacations when I was younger, the hotel stays were always some of best times.

Goodnight.

Arrived safe and sound in chilly Colorado this evening. I upgraded to first class, it’s the only way to go – and I figured I may as well use the upgrades before my 100k status expires and I don’t get them anymore. First class is tits. I got wine and cheese and fruit, steerage got water and $5 beer if they wanted to pay. The wine was good, felt good to drink it when I would normally be working. I was working, though. Typing in between bits of cheese and kiwi and sips of wine. I put my whole presentation together this morning, half at work before I left and the rest in the plane – tonight’s for finishing touches. Finishing touches and steak, I think.

Fast forward to the hotel room, I had wings and a philly instead of steaks, but did manage to get some beers and good “schmoozing” done while I was at it. Funny how much you learn while drinking and eating. In the “Working with China” class I took, the instructors stressed the fact that, in the Asian culture, a business dinner is anything but a dinner. “Think of this as a more laid-back, relaxed extension to your meeting,” they’d say. “The atmosphere is casual, but don’t be fooled, more real business often gets done over beer in China than in the boardroom.” I find that interesting, and certainly see some aspect of it in our own culture. Although, for me, if I know I’ll be dining with customers, I’ll cunningly leave certain bits of information back to purposely divulge them over beers as if imparting a key secret with a loose tongue. This may seem stupid, but it wins confidence like you wouldn’t believe. A key bit of strategic information inserted at just the right time (often a “right time” manufactured by me expressly to give said information) can do wonders for your “human” side in the eyes of the customer. Tsk tsk, now I’m giving away my trade secrets…

On the way home to Florida this past Christmas, the shoulder strap on my laptop bag broke while I was navigating the airport security line. For nearly a month and a half now, then, I’ve been carrying around my laptop straplessly. For the record, I don’t like this, for multiple reasons: 1) I think I look like a fool carrying my bag around like 1950s businessman-briefcase, and 2) it’s inconvenient to “lose” a hand to carrying the bag by its little handle. It’s hard to open doors while carrying an umbrella or, god forbid, an umbrella and a cup of coffee. So, before my recent return to traveling (although a less than triumphant return), I decided I had to have a new shoulder strap. I could be lumbering around the airport and plane with my throwback-style handbag, forget it.

In the end, I got a buddy’s old strap, rather than buying a new one. The only thing I don’t like about having a shoulder strap is the way it presses against the fat of my flabby chest, and parts my man-boob into to lumpy bubbles. I hate that. I’m constantly re-positioning the damn thing to try and minimize the fatty protrusions, they feel like a big neon sign proclaiming my lack of shape, my atrophy. I look down as I walk, making sure the strap is positioned as dead-center as possible on my breast, to minimize the lumps on either side. I’m shooting for an overall pressing-down of fat rather than a push to one side or the other. I walk, I look, I adjust. Walk, look, adjust. Stupid fatty man boobs.

I finished Bukowski’s Ham On Rye tonight, what a terribly sad book. Now it’s on to On the Road. Goodnight.