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Posted on

defending the castle

Beware my sword.
I wrote a lot this weekend, so I’m gonna do the famous two-day material split and win myself a night off today. Tomorrow it’ll be old to me, but new to you…

A couple weeks ago, when the Frappr! thing was big, I setup an account for sounds familiar. Then I stopped short of posting the link here for y’all to populate because I was a scaredycat when it came to linking myself with my zipcode. I have no idea why I insist on hiding behind some imagined anonymity… this is the internets, for pete’s sake. So, let’s do it. If you don’t know what Frappr! is about, let me tell you: it’s a dead simple way to graphically plot where people are, usually people with some common interest or theme. In this case, readers this here blog. So, fair people, favor me and populate the sounds familiar Frappr! page, OK? Don’t worry, you can do it anonymously, I’m more interested just how far-flung my readership (those that dare own up to it) is. So, without further ado: the sounds familiar Frappr page. If I get a half-decent turnout, I may add a permanent link in the sidebar so all the noobs can join in the fun.

Friday morning I had a really creepy experience. I had just gotten out of the shower and dried off. Realizing that I had no clean boxers in the bedroom, I walked, naked, down the hallway into the laundry room where I knew some fresh, clean boxers lay in wait in the dryer. As I sifted through the laundry and pulled out a clean pair, a voice rang out from the next room. Although I didn’t quite catch what it said, it was a loud, clear, male voice which sounded to be asking a question. And, from the sounds of it, it was in my house. Immediately I knew something was wrong. It’s 7:30am, no one should be here… and definitely not in the house. My first thought was that it could be the landscaping company – they had warned me that they were having some topsoil delivered that day – maybe the door was open and they poked their head in to ask where to dump the load.

My heart racing, I hastily pulled on my boxers, not wanting to be naked and in fear of my life. After covering my shame, I looked around for something to clutch, some makeshift weapon I could rely on should the need arise to batter my intruder; but in the laundry room blunt objects are hard to come by. So, I edged my way around the corner, calling out, “Hello?! Who’s there?” No one. As I came into the living room, my eyes fell on a sheathed leather sword – a left-behind item from a costumed guest at our recent Halloween party. But this is no plastic costume sword, it’s got a real metal blade, albeit not very sharp, that has a good weight to it. Perfect! I unsheathed the sword and held it at the ready as I continued my search. Picture it folks: Here I am; ready to defend my home. I’m walking around in naught but my boxer briefs (with a pink piggie on them, no less), holding a damn sword in a strike position shouting, “Hello?! Hello?!” What home invader wouldn’t just throw down their arms and run?

Anyway, I still have no idea what the voice was, and I swear I heard it. After clearing the house, backyard and garage, I even poked the mouse on our two PCs to see if perhaps one had been left on one of those annoying webpages that talk – but there was nothing. My only explanation is that I heard the carried sound of someone outside, a voice that maybe caught just the right wind and floated right through a vent or something to sound so present. Odd.

Did you guys see the comment by “Bob” on my entry from a couple days ago? I know Shaine did, because he already commented on it – but I feel the need to make sure it gets some wider attention. I read it with disbelief this weekend. It is most certainly a spam comment, but I’m going to leave it up. Know why? Well, #1 because I think it’s hilarious; but #2 because, whoever wrote it, they actually read my post. Amazing. So, check out Bob’s hair-site if you wanna… and if you see me in two weeks with lush flowing locks not unlike Motley Crew, don’t ask.

I’m writing again. Maybe I shouldn’t write about it, I’ll jinx it. K then, ‘nite.

Posted on

crunching numbers

Could be hand outstretched for money, like the 1st paragraph; or religious hands like the last.
Writer’s block removed, if only for a day. Four of six paragraphs written made it, not so bad. Let’s get to the lucky four then, shall we?

Last night I did something I’ve been meaning to do now for a while: overhaul our finances spreadsheet to predict what things will be like once Lil’ Chino arrives. I had been avoiding it because I don’t really use the spreadsheet for much other than reference anymore, which I guess tends to happen when you’re not for wont of money. I’m not all Greenspan with my finances or anything, I tend to be happy if we have some pocket money, are able to save some each month, and aren’t getting past-due notices. But our plans for a one-income post-baby household had me more than a little curious – just how realistic is that? Well, after some serious modifications to my OpenOffice Calc spreadsheet (I made federal and state tax deductions automatic), I was able to plugin whatever numbers I wanted to run various financial scenarios. I guess the good news is that we won’t be penniless; we’ll still be able to save each month, tho perhaps not as much, won’t be getting past-due notices, and should even have a little scratch left to get a cup of joe in the morning should we want. It gave me comfort though, seeing the bottom line in the black… made me feel just that much more like we really are ready to have this girl.

Changing subjects drastically…

A friend asked me the other day how I always manage to recall some long-ago-written entry and link back to it as something related to my current topics. I don’t know really, I guess I do tend to remember a pretty surprising amount of what I’ve written. Sure, there’s lots of crap in there that I’ve forgotten – but I think, for the most part, the stuff I forget is filler anyway, “fluff” to make the page look full. If I put time and thought into something I wrote though, odds are I’ll remember that. That’s not saying I haven’t found myself about four or five paragraphs into what I think is going to be a stellar entry when I start thinking, “Have I done this before?” A quick search of past entries proves it: you dumbass, you wrote about this eight months ago. But, in general, I’m pretty good about keeping that stuff in my brain-bone. Stuff I’ve written, lyrics to songs, obscure math equations, all sorts of inconsequential stuff… but things like mom’s birthday or paying the city utilities bill, not a chance.

I got almost all the Halloween stuff packed away, stowing the growing collection in the garage is becoming more and more Tetris-esque each year. I’m glad that, as part of the remaining backyard landscaping I broke down and decided to pay for, I’m getting a pad put in. I plan to use it for one of those ready-made sheds from Costco or the like, and a convenient place to store the three garbage cans this city gives me. Speaking of the landscaping, I think this weekend will be a big one… I’m expecting tons of progress, none of which will be made by the sweat of my brow. I’ll try and throw up some pictures if it’s dramatic enough. In fact, I like my new media gallery, Coppermine, so much, I’ve been thinking of re-putting up all sorts of pictures that I once had online but have since gone away. Yeah… when I get motivated…

Wow, them Catholics are on a roll. I wonder if we’re seeing the makings of a secretive Catholic “marketing” campaign here: Bring religion into the 21st century; make it “fit” with the modern collective’s advanced state of consciousness and understanding; make it less fanatic and legalistic and more about raw human spirituality and virtue; tout its complementary value to scientific and medical knowledge instead of championing its archaic disparities as universal truths. I guess, depending on your personal mix of worldliness and spirituality, there’s a religion for everyone… from barely-believin’ to handling-snakes-and-speaking-in-tongues.

Goodnight mofos.

Posted on

i got blood on my shirt

Screeeech!
Yeah, so I missed a day… I’ve got a serious case of writer’s block going on. Lately when I sit down in front of this page I just can’t seem to get an idea that I feel is worth spending time on. I’ve thought of this and that, and even started a couple paragraphs… but I ultimately give up when I run out of steam. Let’s try and remedy that…

This morning, standing before the mirror preparing myself for work, my growing baldness really struck me. It used to be I could see my thinning crown only when someone showed me a picture they’d taken of me with me head down. Now though, the thinness is spreading, creeping forward like two long fingers, one on the right and one the left. It’s like they’re slowly marching toward my forehead, where, ironically, the hair that was once there seems to be retreating as if to meet it. Now, some people may read this wrong – like it’s something I’m upset about. Not really though, going bald isn’t really a “thing” for me… I don’t really care. It’s just kinda surprising each time you notice you’re not as young as you used to be. I’m not drinking Ensure or holding the handrail for fear of a broken hip yet, but that’s only like fatherhood + one year, right? Ugh.

Changing subjects drastically…

I think I’m only ever truly comfortable with something when I’m so familiar with it I can do it without thinking. Anything less than that, and I’ve got some level of anxiety about it… some notion of “I’m gonna eff this up.” I really do have a problem with anxiety, or impatience… or maybe some kinda of anxious impatience or impatient anxiety. I get so torqued up over the littlest things, and half the time when I realize what’s got me so tense I get mad for letting something so small trouble me. So, once I’ve mastered something and am 100% confident in doing it – I’m truly comfortable with it. That’s the way I am with about 70% of my job now at work. I guess, realistically, 70% is probably good – since you should always be learning if you want to move up and make more cheddar eventually; so the 30% unknown is the still-learning stuff for your “betterment.” Wait, I’ve lost track of my thoughts here and am careening into a ramble… forgive me.

I cannot write, something is wrong. Goodnight.

Posted on

there’s a doctor i know can cure the boy

I'll wait for you.
Daylight savings time doesn’t do much for me, aside from making me feel depressed walking out of work under cover of dark. Leaving work in the dark sucks, it truly does.

Halloween was typical in our new neighborhood, slim on trick-or-treaters but what we had seemed appreciative of the effort. New neighborhoods just don’t have the same things that established ones do: throngs of all-aged kids, trees, you know. It’s OK, the compliments we do get make it worth it to me… heck, I’d do it for one kid because I don’t even care. I cued up the music, flicked on the strobe light, and fired up the fog machines – all for about twenty kids. Don’t matter though folks, I still love this holiday; can’t wait to experience it through the eyes of my daughter, either.

If you noticed from yesterday’s Halloween images, I abandoned my Gallery 2 install in favor of Coppermine, another open-source image gallery app. I liked Gallery, but I always did think it was a tad too option-heavy. I tend to like a lot of functionality that’s presented as if it were being used by dummies. Coppermine’s install took all of 1min and it just worked. Not only that, but the bulk-upload feature works like a charm, and the editing/commenting/rating features are great. The interface is simple, speedy, and skinnable. Anyway, I think I’ll move to this long-term as opposed to Gallery, especially since G2 “lost” the ability to let users vote/rank files.

I think you know you ended up with the right person in life when your deepest-rooted escapist fantasies still include them. If I could have my way, and get away from everything for a while to be surrounded only by things which bring me joy – Sharaun’d be there. OK so yeah, maybe it’s sappy, but I’m for really. I’d need some music, comfortable clothes and maybe a few books, and my wife; that’s all really. I could ask for good weather and tasty food and a host of other amenities I suppose, but that’s more of a utopian fantasy than the escapist one I’m writing about (shit, I’m off track again aren’t I?). In reality even my die-hard “get away” scenarios (the ones that aren’t Thoreau-esque fantasies of extreme solitude, which aren’t long-term anyway) see her with me. To me, that’s a good thing.

Nightnight.

Posted on

candy candy candy

Wetter... better?
Happy Halloween!

Wracked with guilt knowing I didn’t have anything but sentence fragments and idea outlines set to auto-post at midnight last night, I actually set my alarm for 40min earlier than normal this morning. All so I could wake up and come back to the familiar web-interface that is the behind-the-scenes of this page. Turns out though, that my host is down, or flaky, or something… and I couldn’t even access the tool. So here I am, drafting this in Thunderbird in hopes of mailing it to myself at work and doing a quick post once I’m back online. Even getting up early, I’ve not left myself much margin to write… so the pressure is high. Will he or won’t he? Likely he will, but it won’t be stellar. Enjoy.

Party was good, cleanup was lighter than years past. Hosed some puke out of the garage, steam-cleaned some beer out of the carpet… but other than that it was just garbage collection and general tidying. Good turnout too, judging from people-counts done on pictures I’d say there were around ~60 folks at the busiest time, pretty much the same as last year I think. The costumes were great, you can check them out over here. There were a few costumes that didn’t get full pictures, but I think most of ’em are here. Expect more snaps of the goings-on as I have time, or don’t… see if I care. Update: check out some candid party shots.

Yeah, I’m sorry, but I’m going to talk about it again. A good friend said something to me recently which I found profoundly brilliant. “Dave,” this good friend said, “If I got some poop on my hand, I wouldn’t just wipe it off with with a dry piece of paper… I’d put some water on that thing.” Man, what a brilliant statement. Who in their right mind would wipe poop off their body with a piece of paper and call it clean? Well then, why is it acceptable for my butt? My friend only offered this revlation to me in response a question I’d asked. The question? “Hey,” I said, “What’s that container of baby wet-wipes for in your bathroom?” A personal question, sure, but a fair one. My curiosity was piqued, so I asked. That’s when he laid it on me: TP first, then finish up with a wet-wipe. Brilliant. So, for weeks now I’ve been meaning to try out his next-best-to-a-bidet methodology. Today, I asked Sharaun to pick me up some wet-wipes at the store. Instead of asking me what for, she just said “OK” and brought them home (yeah, I thought that was odd too). So, if I remember – I’ll let ya know if it’s worth the effort.

Our daughter, who we haven’t officially met yet as she currently resides somewhere inside my wife’s belly, has been quite the active fetus of late. Kicking and spinning and doing all sorts of stuff that blows my mind. Fascinated, I keep asking Sharaun what it’s like. What does it feel like to have something… else… squirming around inside of you? I try to put myself in the situation, and I come to the conclusion that I’d likely be so amazed by it that I’d ignore the world around me in favor of just staring down at my own stomach trying to comprehend it. Sharaun suggests that maybe woman are “tuned” to be more ho-hum about it… it’s in their genes, they can roll with it because their kind have been experiencing it forever. Maybe she’s right, because, as hard as I try to imagine a little thing wriggling around inside me, sandwiched in between my guts somewhere, I still can’t come close. But, it is cool to get those tactile signs that your spawn is alive and well; maybe even reacting to your voice – since all the books tell me she can hear us now. Today, by the by, is the 1st day of her third trimester; the home-stretch if you will. I know, the math doesn’t quite work out to me either – but that’s what the doctors say…

Listening to the new Rogue Wave, which is garnering praise from all corners of indie blogdom. At first, I was a tad surprised how much attention the album was getting, having heard a few tracks leaked here and there and not being overly struck by them. But, as things tend to go, I’ve listened a few more times and am getting more attached with each go-round. Kinda reminds me of the Shins at spots. I dunno, I’m not jumping on the “one of the year’s best” bandwagon with this one just yet, but at least maybe I’ve got something different than the Wolf Parade to listen for a while.

I’m off to work. Good day to you.

Posted on

that stupid 9/11 fee

Energize.
Wow, can’t believe I’m actually coming back to this. I gave up on doing an entry tonight, after several longish staring-sessions with no words. And, since I was nodding off to sleep while dicking around the web… I decided to pack it in and call it a night. Turns out I walked around the house, switched off some lights, and got some inspiration. People read this right? Tell me people read this. Somewhere, there must be someone who notices when I miss two days in a row. If it wasn’t for you, you imagined daily readers, I dunno what I’d do. On to the waste of typing.

Every day before I leave for lunch, or start thinking about leaving for lunch, I do a quick calendar-check on my afternoon, just to see what lies ahead. Tuesday, I noticed that I had a 3-5pm appointment to switch from DSL to cable internet. Noting that I didn’t have anything from 1-3pm, I decided it was a good day to phone it in and play hooky for the afternoon. I used the extra time to make massive progress on the cleaning out of the eventual nursery room for Lil’ Chino. Stopped by the store, bought several of those big tupperware storage things, and headed home to consolidate and pack away – the 1st phase of transformation from guest/junk room to nursery. Moved most of the stuff into the garage, filling up a new shelf I hung a few weeks ago. As I began to neatly pack things away, I realized that we have a lot more storage here than I normally think we do. I mean, we packed nearly this same amount of material into a little apartment for years – so it stands to reason we’ve got much more room here. And we do; we’re just using the space wastefully right now. As Lil’ Chino pushes the junk out of the junk room, however, we’ll get more optimized. Wow, what on Earth am I writing about?

For the past couple nights I’ve had the strangest dream, two nights in a row now. I’m at home getting ready for work in the morning, and have to take some extra stuff in with me. Rather than pack it up and bring take it in with me though, I instead pull out this little gun-looking device. I then proceed to point the fun thing at whatever it is that I’m wanting to bring along with me. A thin red line, much like what you see on those UPC reader guns, comes out and I move it back and forth over the item. By doing this, I’m able to just think of where I want the item to go and it disappears from in front of me and is magically transported there. In my dream, I go around sending all sorts of stuff to all sorts of places, and showing off my teleportation thingy to everyone I see. As cool as it sounds, no one is really that impressed or surprised by the little gadget – despite my efforts to sell them on it’s coolness. As much as I expect people to be as excited as I am over this miracle gizmo, no one is and I’m frustrated by it. Who knows… what a strange dream.

The brake light on the Ford has taken to turning on randomly again, I have no idea what that’s about. Maybe it’s low on fluid, or maybe it’s part of the great electric haywire that is the Ford. Move the seat too far back, and you blow a 30A fuse rendering all electronic window/door/seat control useless; press play on the stereo and it mysteriously “reboots” (I didn’t even know car radios could reboot). Anyway, it was raining this morning and I was watching that little red light flicker on and off: BRAKE… BRAKE… BRAKE. Then, the low fuel light decided to get in on the dance: “CHECK GAUGE” lighting up when I took any incline. I was hypnotized by them. The rain fell outside and I listened to the new Broken Social Scene as the dashboard came alive. No idea why I wrote about that, but I took a note about it when I got to work this morning – so it was somehow significant to me.

Sharaun and I worked on the music for the Halloween party tonight, lining up folders of illicitly-gained MP3s for the occasion. Oh yeah, I haven’t really mentioned it as yet – but our 3rd annual Halloween party is this Friday (tomorrow, as you read this). Last year’s was such a success that I got a keg and a half for this one. Anyway, I always like assembling playlists. We worked on putting together two different tune-queues, each with different goals. Sharaun’s goal is to encourage dancing in the living room, and of course maintain the dancing once it’s broken out. Her list is heavy with body-moving classics and high energy favorites. My list is for the garage, where the keg is, and where there won’t likely be dancing. My list is full of music that encourages talking, stuff that’s good for the background; enjoyable, recognizable, but ultimately enjoyable white noise. Heavy with my favorite tracks of the year, it’s a more rock-based mix. Anyway, we’re both excited about the party. Keep your eyes peeled for pictures of the event post-weekend.

Bought our tickets to fly back to Florida for Christmas, cost us $20 after taxes and that stupid 9/11 fee. Hooray for skymiles. Looking forward to a travel-crammed December, with India and Florida and back from each as well. I feel like I traveled more this year than ever before, and that’s completely warranted too – because I totally traveled this year more than ever before. I bet, if I went back and did some research, that I was on a plane at least one time each month.

Me me me… can’t I write about something other than me?

No? OK then, goodnight.

Posted on

kicking

Knock knock, I'm here.
This entry jumps in time a bit, since I wrote some Saturday and the rest Monday. Deal with it. Quite a few links today, some good extended reading for those left with an empty feeling over yesterday’s missed post. Enjoy.

Sunday night around midnight, I felt my daughter kick for the first time. And man was she kicking, she was squirming all around in there. Sharaun said it was because she could hear us arguing (we were, she’d gone through my closet as she tends to do every so often and packaged some of my clothes for Goodwill… she always picks my favorites). Anyway, Lil’ Chino heard the bickering and decided to shut us up with a tactile distraction. We were in the middle of a: “You never wear that, and the collar is all stained brown!” “What are you talking about?! I wear this shirt all the time!” When the kicking began. Quieted us right up. And for the record, I don’t think it’s fair that the poor and homeless have to wear my browned-up-collar threadbare shirts anyway.

I’m constantly asking Sharaun what it feels like to have a human growing inside her, as if she could explain it to me in any way I could approximate it. She says that, right now, it’s just like little flutters, almost like gas bubbles. Doesn’t sound quite as exciting as I imagine it feeling. But, I just think it must be an amazing thing to feel a little person moving around inside your belly. For her though, she’s breezing through this pregnancy. For the most part, it’s hard to even realize she’s knocked up. If not for the growing belly and being able to feel the squirmy little girl inside it – her behavior wouldn’t be that much of a tipoff. She doesn’t complain of much, and her routine is largely unchanged. It just seems “easy” for her or something. I guess I shouldn’t say that, she’ll be jinxed with horrible pain and suffering now.

Last week we were supposed to go see Architecture in Helsinki in San Francisco. However, come the morning of the show, folks weren’t feeling too into it – and we made the call to call it a loss and just not go. I was kinda bummed, but also kinda OK with it. I’m just not really into driving all the way to the city to go to shows anymore. Maybe it’s a sign I’m getting old, but it’s gotta be a super compelling show for me to want to drive out there. Now, considering I consider AiH’s album one of the best released this year, I was willing to make the long haul to see them. But, the stars were not aligned, and the $30 seemed a little too write-offable – so we it was a no-go. Also in shows, tomorrow (Sunday as I write this) I will accompany Sharaun to a show of her choosing – Gwen Stefani and the Black Eyed Peas. I’m not that excited about it, I really don’t like the BEP at all, but at least I’m half-interested in seeing Gwen… some of the Ocasek-produced tracks on her latest album are catchy. The one thing the show has going for it over the AiH show though, is that it’s actually right here in town. 20min to and 20min back, you can’t beat that. Dang, I am old.

So, let’s fast-forward to Monday (since I didn’t write enough over the weekend to build an actual entry). The show was surprisingly enjoyable. Still not he world’s biggest fan – but there is something to be said for a show that can motivate people to their feet, rather than have them standing and swaying with the occasional head-bob. Indie concerts can be kinda mopey at times, a whole bunch of thirty-somethings all reveling in their deep pain at being misunderstood by society while they nod along to dirges about self-doubt and ruined romance. But, at this show, thousands of whorishly dressed young women were instead up out of their seats, shaking and bouncing and jiggling… yes my friends, there is something to be said indeed for the virtue of music that makes the ladies dance. Let’s get the picture indie bands, we can learn from the likes of the Go! Team and even Arcade Fire – both of whom inject a good amount of energy into their live shows. Now if we could just pull the same level of talent, I’d be at show after show after show.

This weekend the Halloween decoration efforts paid off in full. With some help from friends, we were able to repair the original ghost motor and get her moving again (only for a few hours though before she broke again, so we now have to re-fix her today). We also managed to setup the coffin in it’s final place. We routed the air hose, and rigged up a motion-trigger mechanism to set it off. Now, when someone walks by, a bright light snaps on spotlighting the corpse as it pops up out of the coffin. The effect is great, and the motion is really good. For non-Halloween or party nights, you can aim the motion sensor toward the road and it will trigger the action when cars go by, drawing their attention as the prop lights up and corpse snaps to attention. It really is gratifying for the project to be working so well. If you want, I put together a little movie so you can take a look at the completed effect in action, enjoy.

Coffin Popper for fatty pipes (~3MB)

Coffin Popper for dialuppers (~800KB)

Now that looks nice!

Let’s do a link roundup, apologies if you’ve seen these elsewhere:

Here’s a funny piece about the real marketing gold that is the video iPod; and here’s a good little rant on religion and modern society – although it’s pretty low on respect for said faith… so if you have a less than steel constitution when it comes to what you worship and hold sacred you may want to skip it. Oh man, before I go I had to share this one. Members of several illustrious indie bands (Wolf Parade, Arcade Fire, need I say more?) got together and made this excellent send-up of the “Do They Know It’s Christmas” song called “Do They Know It’s Halloween.” Indie music and Halloween, it’s like peanut butter and jelly y’all. Not only is the song awesome, but the video is super entertaining too, check it out here. I’ve always wanted a fun Halloween anthem, and this could totally be it. You know what suck about linking in blogs? These links will likely be long-dead in a year or so… bummer.

Goodnight my friends.