Pretty

I just felt like wearing a silk shirt today. Okay, that is it. I had more laundry to choose from, I just chose the wine colored silk shirt. It is a nice weight. It is breathable so I won’t get too hot, yet it is long-sleeved so I will not get too cold. So, I don’t “rock the long-sleeve button down” too often. That doesn’t mean that something earth shattering is occurring when I do sport the long sleeve silky.

I am certain that if there were a pattern emblazoned within the strands that create my wonderfully silken shirt, no one would be asking if I was having wardrobe issues. I apologize to everyone that this shirt happens to be a solid color. The next time I buy a silk shirt I will make sure it is patterned. Would that get you people off my back? A simple geometric pattern? Maybe something more organic? I am not doing Hawaiian. Not because I have anything against the Hawaiian culture, but because there is a bit of a “Friday is Loud Hawaiian Shirt Day” that goes on in my section. I choose not to participate. Yep, anything non-solid colored would notr generate the reactions that I have gotten today.

So I have to wonder, “Do I dress myself soo incredibly casually that when I have on a long sleeve button down that people need to question my apparel motivations? Do I so rarely wear something a little more than ‘business casual,’ that everyone audibly comments when they see me in something just a tad nicer? Am I such a beast? Why are you all staring at me?”

To recap:
I feel pretty
Fighting a ticket in court on Monday
It was a yellow light, damnit!
YELLOW!
Why couldn’t the bicycle stand?
It was two tired
Get it? “two tired” : “too tired”
So, 2 pandas were taking a bath
1 said, “Pass the soap.”
The other one said, “No.”
Those 2 jokes make me giggle every time

Mind your P's and Q's

Okay, I was at a loss for topics today, so I asked co-workers and friends who read this here blog to ask me some parenting questions. I culled the list to 10 and here we go.

1. In an overcrowded world chock-full of orphans and neglected children looking for homes, what right-thinking person would be so blinded by hard-wired genetics to refuse to forego breeding and just take care of an existing problem? Or, if that sounds to bitter from the man who will never reproduce: What's the worst stain you've been faced with, and what methods did you use to remove the stain?

Hmmmm… there seems to be a bit of emotional baggage associated with you first question. For Wifey and I, adoption is not out of the question. We just haven’t been able to find some rich elderly folks to adopt us. As far as stains, it think it would be Little Man’s poop the morning after he consumed a full pint of blueberries (about half a Liter for you metrics folks). The poop stained his little butt. Time got rid of the stain on his butt. As for the pair of shorts that got hit with the poop, I had to throw them away.

2. Did you always plan on having children or was this something you and "wifey" discussed and agreed upon after marriage?

Having kids was a conversation that Wifey and I had prior to even getting engaged. When people’s views differ on having kids, it is a deal breaker, plain and simple. So, this was discussed and agreed upon prior to engagement, in our case. Turns out that It’s been almost 11 years since we two crazy kids met each other, fell in love, and married, and later went on to realize that our genetic components are incompatible. There is a good chance we should not have had kids. After all, little man did get my food allergies and wifey’s asthma – he’s on the “allergenic march” as the doctors say.. We are glad we did, but….

3. Acceptable methods of discipline are always changing. People used to be able to beat the life out of kid if they were bad, but now people have too many touchy warm feelings for that to be viewed as ok. That being said, public humiliation is out as well; too many feelings could be hurt with long term emotional scars. All that being said, how do you discipline Little Man?

Let’s just say the phrase “Contemplate this on the Tree of Woe” has been uttered

4. Before you had Little Man, did you realize how much your life would change by having him? I know a lot of my friends thought that their lives would pretty much stay the same - can you say delusional?

Yes, I can say delusional. “Delusional.” See? Honestly, I don’t think anyone can truly realize just how much time and effort raising a kid takes, and there is a big reason as to why this is so. Kids can take and take and take. They will take as much as you can give and be left wanting for more. Little Man is like an infinite sponge, and he makes it very hard to ignore him.

5. Do you find yourself saying things to Little Man that your parents said that you swore you would never say to your kids?

So far I have not heard myself say things that my parents said, but I have definitely had some “parentisms.” I have ended up saying things like, “I am not doing this for my health.” And Wifey’s patented, “We do not bite each other’s crotches in this family!”

6. When changing a boys diaper is it easier to just wear some sort of protective head gear or go with the traditional hold the diaper in place and make a quick swap hoping that nothing shoots you in the face?

The first diaper I ever changed for Little Man, his first diaper change ever, he sprayed me really good… drenched me, in fact. We had a long conversation about that on day 1, and he has not done that since. So, I am probably not the right person to ask.

7. Hypothethical question.....if "little man" and a whole vanilla bean cheesecake were sitting on a ledge. both were about to fall in a big pile of mud. NOTE: the ledge is only about 2 foot from the floor, safe to assume "little man" would not be injured from this fall. but both he AND the cheesecake were headed for the mud, which would essential ruin all chances of eating such a sweet treat. if you could only reach for one, which you save from the mud?

The cheesecake gets the save. Vanilla Bean Cheesecake retails at $35 at The Cheesecake Factory. Little Man would merely get muddy while the cheesecake would be destroyed. There is a good chance that if I saved Little Man from a muddy fate initially and watched the cheesecake die an ignoble death, that Little Man would intentionally make a break for the mud anyway. This way I would at least get the cheesecake. We keep a spare set of clothes around for Little Man anyway… Stop judging me.

8. Is having a consistent routine really as important as it seems?

Sweet Mother of God! Yes. It is of monumental importance. Kids need structure and respond well to repetition. Plus, parents need to know when their time of kid interaction is over for the day.

9. Does having a kid of your own make you like other people's children more or less?

Yes, it makes you like other people’s children, more or less…

10. Why do parents always think their kid is sooo much better than all the other kids?

I have no idea why other parents feel that way. Little Man is clearly soooo much better than their ill-mannered, dullard gits.


To Recap:
Thanks for all your questions
If anyone has a question for me and my parenting style, please comment
Do the French really “dip” their sandwiches
Have we gotten over that whole “we’re mad at france thing” or am I having a freedom dip sandwich tonight for dinner
No need to compliment me on my parenting prowess…I gots da mad skilz.

mimicry

Idea Number 1:

I was going to blog today as one of the imaginary firemen lodged within one of Little Man’s various fire trucks that he “plays” with. You know something about how, the road conditions were sop bad that they endlessly ran off the road, reversed, only to go off the road at the same point repeatedly. You know make it kind of a farcical fiction, much like the Nedley and Pirky drama that I did to desensitize everyone to the death of 2 squirrels. I made a couple of attempts in vain. It just was not working. So I am on to idea number 2 for today’s post.

Idea Number 2:

Last night whilst Wifey was cooking up some ginger chicken (mmm ginger chicken) I was feeding Little Man a sloppy joe. Little Man was having none of that. If he was to be eating a sloppy joe, so was I. It makes some sort of sense really. So we start out in the dining room, but then he is drawn to the calm reassuring glow of the god I call TV. He taunts my god. He toys with my god and make my god play Teletubbies, but that is a tale for another day. He pats the couch and says, “Chair.” This means, I am supposed to sit. I sit down with my plate on my lap. He hands me his plate and then sits on the couch next to me. He scooches over. What? Oh scooch…

Scooch (skōōch)
v. scooch·ed, scooch·ing, scooches
To slide over while seated in small increments

Anyway… he scooches over next to me and starts eating just like me.

Little Man is very much into copy-catting whatever it is that I do. This is a very sweet thing. IT is very humbling as a parent to see your child emulating your every action. It is a very daunting prospect to know that your child is looking up to you as a role model. He takes a bite from his sloppy Joe when I do. He drinks from his glass of water when I do. It is very sweet. It is very loving. It is extremely scary.

“Scary?” you ask. You see, I have some bad habits… a bunch of bad habits… I mean, a whole frikkin’ lot of really un- savory bad habits. Is he to pick these up too? I yell at the refs while watching soccer games that the refs clearly are not watching. I am not really good about throwing things away. I am a scratcher. If something/anything itches, I will scratch it. I do not do this soooo much in public, but in the privacy of my own home, I will dig in my unusually deep belly button with wild abandon, if there is an itch. And that was just one example of many scratching I customarily do. I pick my nose… a lot. Stop judging me, I have bad seasonal allergies… That is something I really do not want him to pick up. I swear like a drunken sailor. Meaning I slur my words and do not make any coherent sense. When my kid curses, I want it to be fluid and properly enunciated. I want it to make coherent sense and singe people’s eyebrows. Is that so much to ask?

So while it is cute and fun watching him eat like me and drink like me, I don’t necessarily want him to be scratching himself in public, picking his nose, and slurring his curse words.

To Recap:
2 Things I noticed at the gym today:
1. Okay if someone decides to work out in just a sports bra and spandex shorts, they are trying to snag a mate
She was looking for people to look at her… to want her… I did not look at her other than to make a note of her wanting people to look at her
2. If a guy is working out in a tank top tucked into his cut-off Daisy Duke length jeans shorts, he is not really working out primarily for health considerations
I mean, really, who tucks their tank top into their pretentiously short cut-offs

Little Man is really really hard on toy fire trucks
I abhor getting up stupid early to exercise
It is like I am punishing myself twice
I am having left over ginger chicken for lunch… mmmm
Man, am I tired now

Clean air and exercise my ass...

Whoever said that fresh air and exercise will help kids sleep, was full of horse shit. Yes, horse shit! The green soft hay looking crap that issues forth from a horse’s ass, or horses’ asses, as it were. The correction from singular to plural is to indicate that there is not one single primal horse diety that generates all the horse shit in the world. It is, in truth, a product of all horse everywhere. Plural versus of possessives are always tricky.

Anyway… we ran the boy ragged yesterday. He was dead on his feet. Swaying back and forth with his eyes nearly closed, blinking heavily. He still fought sleep during the bed-time ritual like a cornered tiger. --- TANGENT ALERT--- TANGENT ALERT--- THIS POST IS JUST ABOUT TO GO ON A TANGENT--- Funny thing about cornered tigers. When Wifey and I went on our honeymoon to the massive amounts of free entertainment that one can find in Washington DC we had the occasion to go to the National Zoo. I think that is what it is called. I guess with utmost clarity it is officially the Smithsonian National Zoological Park. Anyway… we were walking by the tiger enclosure when one of the tigers in there started pacing back and forth while staring at just the 2 of us. It was looking at us like we were intended to be its next victim. For a moment I felt a bit like prey. The reason that this pacing back and forth was unnerving is that most apex predators choose the sickly and elderly as their intended food. It had chosen Wifey and I as potential vittles. Although, technically speaking vittles require a 3 toothed 70 year old cowboy called cookie to prepare. Did the tiger know something that we didn’t? If so, what? Why won’t the tiger tell us what is wrong? Why?!?! ---BACKTO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED POST---

For the love of God and all that is holy, Little Man ran about ½ mile when we went hiking in the morning. In the afternoon we went over to some of Wifey’s friends’ house so he could play with their kids. One of the women there described their backyard as “a carnival.” I surmised by this lesbian couple’s level of social activism and number of kids under the age of 5 (there were 3 already there, not counting Little Man) that this “carnival” was more of the fun, party kind of atmosphere than the drunken debauchery known as “Carnival.” Anyway… for about 2 hours Little Man was running around sliding down slides (there were 3 to choose from, a “carnival” it truly was), swinging, playing in a sand box, playing with a water table, jumping in an inflatable bouncy pen thingy known to this family and their 4 year old girl affectionately as “the bounce house,” etc… In total it was 2 whole hours of non-stop movement outside that was preceded by about 45 minutes of hiking that can only be characterized as intermittent sprinting.

So I ask you, loyal readers, did Little Man go quietly into his slumbering repose? Hell No! Wifey and I are getting tranq darts made this up-coming weekend. He will sleep…. Oh, yes he will. I didn’t get this blow gun for nothing.

To Recap
The afternoon was odd, Little Man and I were outnumbered 3 to 1 female to male
Honestly, does a hippo killer really look like tiger bait?
Last night there was one clap of thunder that was so loud it actually shook my bones
I haven't heard any thunder like that without the power going off
I don't get it... I pray for sleep, and Little Man fights it
I wish more restaurants posted allergen information
It would make it much easier to go out to eat with Little Man
I have to get to the gym tomorrow morning

No Time

I got my hair cut today. I think the final straw was the fact that I could impersonate a fraggle. Yep, that was what told me to get the mop trimmed. It was definitely time.

Anyway… deadlines are looming, appointments are calling and I am too busy to really do a serious blog today. So without further ado….

To Recap:
I have about 30 minutes to finish putting together a PowerPoint background and title slide
I have a medical appointment in 45 minutes
It takes me 15 minutes to get there
I have to get moving
My hair looks nice
I am not sure what Little Man and I are doing for dinner tonight
He had pasta for lunch and we were supposed to have ravioli for dinner
Maybe we will have hot dogs
Cheers

Hell is a place

Yes, Hell does have a name. No, that name is not “Wifey.” Whilst her post yesterday has caused much giggling and tittering of at least one of my co-workers, and whilst her outing me as a Friend of Krispy Kreme is mildly damning, she is not a place. She might be a she-devil, but there is no geography associated with Wifey. Hell, dear readers, is most assuredly a place. It is a vile loathsome place where light cannot escape and hope dies. Hell is Akron, Ohio. Yes, the Rubber Capital of the US is in fact Lucifer’s playground.

I am not sure where exactly El Diablo lives within the confines of Akron, but he definitely has something against I-76 West. I missed the entrance to 76 west on my first attempt. One would think it would be easy to turn around and come at the entrance again. One would be correct if the town one was considering was not, in fact, Hell. It took me 30 minutes to get to a 76 westbound entrance. It was a comedy of errors without the comedy. All the cross streets had turn prohibitions. I passed 7, count ‘em 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, entrances to I-76 eastbound, but who in their right mind wants to go to Pittsburgh? I probably would have done better to Get on I-76 East and turned around after 15 miles or so. It was Hell I tell you, Hell.

Additionally, I have not seen soooo many pre-1990 cars still in operation. These cars were beaters when I went to Kent in 1992. They were crappy cars in 1992, which means they were barely running yesterday. Somehow, and I am not sure exactly how, the most smoke enveloped cars, spewing forth their noxious brimstone clouds of rancid hate, always seemed to be directly in front of me. I swear the cars’ drivers had horns on their heads and tails. They were trying to keep me there. I know it. Luckily, it was not my time. After 30 minutes of cursing at the hopeless lost souls in that Godforsaken land, I finally escaped.

To Recap:
Little Man loves the lentil soup, just get it without the cheese
His tastes are very eclectic
He calls this place “Soup”
I almost stopped in Hell to kill someone at random
They probably would have thanked me
It is a miserable, miserable, hopeless, nearly-dead-inside, dried up husk of a city
Heck, the University of Akron’s mascot is a synonym for “nothing”
Go Zips!
Granted, I have an abiding hate for Cleveland, but it is merely an Armpit of America
My mood was not assisted by the work related trials and tribulations acquired whilst in the belly of the Beast
263 miles yesterday with nothing to show for it
Not sure if I have mentioned this before, but my favorite student/teacher interaction from high school was with my physics teacher.
Physics Teacher: You know what your problem is?
SRH: No
PT: You are apathetic
SRH: So
I was much quicker and funnier in High Scool

A Sorry Subsitute

Unfortunately, SRH is out of town most of today, so he won’t be able to do his normal blogging about nada, nunca, nothing. Again unfortunately, he asked me, Wifey, to guest blog, and I’ve decided to take a crack at it.

I have to admit that I can’t come up with the witty repartee that you have come to expect of my better half, so I will fall back on blogging about a series of recent conversations I have had with my women friends.

In an attempt to get to know each other better after years of being friends, we have started sharing embarrassing stories with one another. Not embarrassing in the way of shameful acts from our past, you know the I-was-young-I-was-dumb-I-needed-the-money-followed-by-sobbing kind of embarrassing. Nor are we talking of embarrassing in the way of personal anomalies and freakishness, you know the I-have-three-nipples kind of embarrassing.

Rather, our embarrassing stories are of the variety of goofiness, silliness, and the general “I bet you didn’t know that about me” type of embarrassment. For example, I recently purchased a Cyndi Lauper Greatest Hits cd that I cannot stop playing. What can I say? She Bop…

So I thought for this blog, I would share with you some of the embarrassments that I have recently admitted to my friends, in the hopes that you will respond back with your own embarrassing answers. But then I thought, “Hey wait, this is SRH’s blog, perhaps I should share some of HIS embarrassing answers…” you get my drift. Much funnier this way!

So here it goes…Answers that SRH would give if asked by a group of women friends about his embarrassing enjoyments, guilty pleasures, and general goofiness.

• Favorite Embarrassing Movie: The kind you will watch every time it’s on TBS or TNT even though you know it’s really dumb, the acting is bad, the plot is weak, and it doesn’t stand the test of time.

Although SRH probably wouldn’t be embarrassed to answer this question by stating that he loves the movie TRON, I believe he should be embarrassed; therefore, I’m going with this for an answer. After all, this movie features both Bruce Boxleitner and Jeff Bridges in unitards wearing hockey helmets. And it doesn’t even come on TBS and TNT - we had to buy it on amazon because no one but my husband understands the appeal of the movie.

• Song Lyric You Have Always Messed Up and Now You Can’t Sing the Song Any Other Way:

I believe that SRH and I were married for over 5 years before we had a conversation about “Kyrie Eleison” by Mr. Mister. I was sharing that the whole “kyrie eleison, christe eleison, kyrie eleison” bit was one of my favorite parts of mass as I was growing up. Therefore, I was somewhat surprised that I hated the song Kyrie Eleison by Mr. Mister. SRH looked very blank for a moment – then you could see something click for him, but he very smoothly tried to play it off. But of course, I couldn’t let it go.

Me: What did you think the words were, SRH?

SRH: mumble, mumble

Me: What? Come on, tell me.

SRH: Carry a laser.

Me: Huh? Carry a laser down the road that I must travel? Is that really how you sang it?

Of course, I was snorting with laughter by this point. The only explanation I can come up with is that SRH really likes Star Wars.

Every now and again, I’ll just sing “Carry a laser down the road that I must travel” to make myself laugh at my husband’s expense.

• Favorite Embarrassing CD:

SRH will admit to buying the Vanilla Ice CD, but I think several million folks fell prey to that madness in the early 90’s. On a side note, SRH’s brother was a HUGE fan of Milli Vanilli. What can I say? Blame it on the Rain…

• Song that will make you dance and sing in your car, no matter how heavy the traffic:

SRH does have some great, sophisticated musical tastes; however, his Achilles heel of music is Paul McCartney’s Rocky Raccoon. Not sophisticated, not defensible, just a little goofy. I suppose the song does involve murder and the bible, so some might think it’s deep.

• Embarrassing Piece of Star Trek Trivia that SRH knows:

Again, SRH would say that none of the Star Trek trivia that he knows is embarrassing. Fine.

However, embarrassing to us both, one of our closest friends from college dressed up as a science officer from the original series to attend a Star Trek convention. That’s probably enough embarrassment by association – although SRH does defend it by saying “She wore the little miniskirt uniform”. Probably just a fantasy on his part.

• Fan Club SRH belongs to:

SRH is officially a “Friend of Krispy Kreme”.

While I knew he loved the donuts, I wasn’t clear just how much he was a fan until I got the fateful email from him saying, “Guess what the donut of the month is? Key Lime – I gotta try that.” In addition, the very first thing he bought for Little Man when he found out we were pregnant, was a Krispy Kreme onesie. The man is committed to his donut.

Well, that’s it for me. I have bared my husband’s soul, and now I shall go take care of my sick baby.

I’d love to hear some of your answers to these questions. And you may be sure that SRH will pay me back in full tomorrow.

Nada

Usually I can count on the weekend for some material, but my life has gotten so boring that I cannot even do that. Wow, that is a boring life. I would regale you with tales of the Little Man, but he was a little under the weather this weekend, so not much to chat about there. I will attempt to entertain with an accumulation of Little Man snippets.

I guess the big “new” thing Little Man is doing is running poor Henry off of a bridge embankment and giggling. He then apologizes profusely for this grave injustice to “Big Green Henny.” This apology is followed closely by backing the engine up the track and doing it repeatedly with the same results. He intersperses this dynamic dialog with Henry by smashing Thomas the tank engine with a post office building to his glee while yelling, “Oh Nos!” He then asks Thomas if he is okay and apologizes. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Every once and a while he goes all Gojira Kaiju on the train table. He then demands that Wifey or myself rebuild the train tracks better, stronger, and faster. Again, lather, rinse, repeat.

The other thing that Little Man has currently changed is his internal reference to McDonald’s. Since we got the go ahead from the allergist on potatoes for Little Man, he has wanted to refer to the golden arches in comparison to his culinary heaven, Burger King. He is too familiar with the establishment to call it by its full name. He refers to Burger king simply as “King.” Therefore McDonald’s is hence forth known as “Yellow King,” or more precisely “Yea-Yo King.” He likes their French fries, and who doesn’t?

To recap:
My life is boing
I meant to type “boring” instead of “boing,” but I like the mistype
My new most favoritest website ever is this one
Thanks to One Child Left Behind for introducing me to the site
I wish I had more to blather about
Alas and alack, I do not
Cheers

M S G

The best thing about meetings is that they sometimes come with the option of free food. Unfortunately for me, today this free food came in the form of a Chinese buffet. I love me some Chinese food, and I love me some buffet. One would think that bringing these 2 good things together would be like adding chocolate and peanut butter together. For many people this is the case. For me, it is not so much the case.

The Chinese restaurants that work for me tend to be a little nicer food. Good quality meat, home-made sauces from fresh ingredients, etc… Chinese buffets, on the other hand, tend to be a little lower on the quality scale. You make up for the quality with the volume. They crank this food out in huge vats of pre-processed ingredients and meat of marginal quality. This typically means that there are more preservatives in the food. The preservative in question that makes buffets a bad thing for me is good old MSG. Monosodium Glutamate. This is both a preservative and a “flavor enhancer.”

For me, the truckloads of MSG, which are present and used in most Chinese buffets cause massive headaches. I am 4 Tylenols to the wind right now, and still can feel the throbbing pressure in my forehead. So, not much else to write about today; I am battling a raging chemical induced headache.

To recap
The first course at Chinese buffets should always consist of purely fried food smothered in sweet and sour sauce
It is the way of things
One of the guys at lunch came back with a plate of fruit
Freak
Man, my head hurts

Spiders

I hate spiders. I am sure many of you out there are thinking, “Yeah, so what?” Well, let me clarify. I hate spiders due to my unhealthy fear of the little buggers. “Are there reasons for this fear other than the fact that spiders are not that cute and cuddly to look at?”

Why, yes, dear reader there are. The insane fear of spiders goes back to my Boy Scouts days. Yes, dear reader, I was once a member of Baden Powell’s boys. I was at one point trustworthy, loyal, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. I once attempted to do a good turn daily. At one time in my life I promised “to do my duty to God and country and obey the Scout Law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.” Much has changed since then. I am marginally trustworthy. I am still loyal. To some I am friendly and/or courteous. I choose “funny” over “kind.” I am obedient unto myself and pretty much myself alone. I am cheerful sometimes. I eat lunch out way too much to be considered thrifty. I am brave in the face of spiders. I am clean once a week whether I need to be or not. I am most assuredly irreverent. I see where I could do good turns daily. I help other people when it is convenient to me. I am not at my peak physical condition. I am pretty much mentally asleep, and I am still morally straight according to my own set of ethics and standards. Times have changed, but I am no longer 15 any more. Anyway… I digress away from my “beginning to fear and loathe spiders story.” Whilst in the Boy Scouts, at my first Summer Camp, I awoke with three wolf spiders crawling around on my face. Accompanying those 3 spiders where a couple more on my chest and arms.

Yep, that will do it. I hate spiders with a passion now. Can’t stand them. Yeeee-uck! Now when ever I see spiders I cringe and shudder. Also, this experience has left me with a near autonomic response when brushed up against in bed. Let me explain this more fully. Let’s say Wifey rolls over in bed and her big toe lightly brushes up against my calf whilst we are in the wonders of slumberland. I usually bolt out of bed with a childlike squeaky intake of breath and end up at least 2 feet away from the bed before the comforter hits the mattress. I will be breathing heavily (no, not because of the lack of physicality that I entail these days) because of the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the hammering of my newly awakened heart.

All of this reaction is much to the delight of Wifey. She says that she doesn’t actively set off my spider sense, but her giggles at my discomfort say otherwise.

To recap:
During Little Man’s bedtime routine last night, a spider was crawling on Wifey’s chest
She got rid of it none too nonchalantly
I was primed for spider thoughts last night
I only had to jump out of bed once
I heard giggling
Hey, I hear giggling right now…

Hindsight is 20/20 questions

I do not want to think today, so here are 20 questions. Thanks to all for submitting. You guys are da best. Without further ado:

1. Which would you choose, if you had to- an exciting, intellectually challenging, socially meaningful career at a tiny tiny salary, or a boring, frustrating position making more than you could ever spend?
Currently, I would take either. Right now I have a frustrating position making not that great of a salary

2. Do you like jelly? What is your favorite variety of jelly?
Honestly, I like Smuckers Concord Grape Jam
Mmmm Concord Brake Jam

3. What is your favorite task at your job? Least favorite?
Hey, that’s 2 questions. 1. Ummmm, doing the final print of a map and 2. Getting a string of edits that lead back to the original design

4. Why are mandatory meetings always scheduled when you have insane deadlines?
It is the way of things. The best way to meet a deadline is to take everyone off the project and talk about strategic planning

5. Why do Ohio sports teams always end up choking? WHY?
Let’s be clear, not all Ohio sports team choke, some just plain suck

6. Why are weatherman always wrong? ....Huge snow storm, 3-5 inches my ass!
Well, meteorology is an in inexact science to begin with, and the talking heads on TV are just the meteorologists who have camera prescience. The real wiz-bang meteorologists are sitting at a desk somewhere working for the National Weather Service.

7. What's your favorite breed of dog?
I am not really a dog person. Much more of a cat person, so I would have to go with whatever dog out there is most cat-like.

8. Do you have any hobbies?
I like to draw, but I do not make the time to do it. Other than that there is my fixation on World of Warcrack… err. Warcraft

9. How come you ruin so many cars?
I tire of vehicles quickly. Actually, the string of a car a year is over, thank God! I am terribly unlucky. I had a rear wheel blow out on a rear wheel drive car, a hydroplaning incident at a mall entrance, an engine fire, and a failure to yield right-of-way. So I am on my 5th car with only 16 years of being in driving age. That is a car every 3.2 years. Maybe leasing is the way for me?

10. Will the snow we are getting today, the first day of spring, stick?
My bet is that it will not stick all that great, mainly sense I think most of it looks like it will go to the north of Columbus.

11. Why does Little Man mimic a drunk leprechaun so well?
Yes, mimic

12. What do you want for your birthday?
Honestly, the birthday is not until June, so I have not really thought about it too much. If I had to choose right now, time off from work

13. If parents have their child’s asthma “managed” successfully – doesn’t that just mean their kid has a wussy case of asthma? Just wondering.
A wussy case of asthma or vigilant parent/s, I guess, those are the 2 options. Little Man’s asthma requires 5 daily medicines (some of which are required twice a day) with an additional 2 during “bad breathing episodes. I would say he has a monumental case of asthma for a 2.6667 year old. Granted, there are worse cases out there, but in general, I would say our case goes to vigilant parent/s. In our case, most of the acclaim goes to Wifey. You da best baby!

14. If a cheese cake and a cream pie were to get into a fight, who would win?
I would. Mmmmmmmmmmm creamy cheesecake pie

15. Why do people love the Sopranos?
I honestly don’t know why it is such an American cultural phenomenon. None of the characters are likeable, and it glorifies a criminal lifestyle. Sure bad things happen to the shows characters, but all in all it normalizes the lives of a criminal element and makes it more acceptable to the mainstream.

16. What is silliest reason someone you know stopped dating someone?
Smelled like cabbage. Not really a bad reason to break up with someone, but it does sound rather silly.

17. Why does anybody still care about the Oscars and how can they imagine that it is actually or noteworthy to approach “controversial” subjects when the entire Hollywood “society” agrees with you entirely and there is no actual risk of retribution or public disfavor! I mean speaking out against the war or speaking up for homosexuality!!! GOSH! You must be sooooooo courageous to risk your career like that!!! OOOOOOHH! AAAHHHHH! Mumble mumble……..
I am simply going to avoid eye contact and back away slowly…

18. Where did I put my pen?
Have you looked in your supply closet? I find multiple versions of the pens I have misplaced in there. They are often in a box with the missing pen’s picture on it, so you may have to open that up.

19. I can’t find my clam clipper deally thing either. Any ideas?
Ummm, I am not really sure what a “clam clipper deally” thing is, but have you tried your coat pocket?

20. Why isn’t dizzy bat an Olympic event? It would be twice as funny as a Winter event with the ice and all.
For all of you out there in cyberland who do not know what “dizzy bat” is: to the best of my knowledge Dizzy Bat is more of a race than a baseball like game. One bends over and runs in a circle whilst apply one’s forehead to the end of a regulation MLB baseball bat for three interations as fast as one can spin. Then said, player tries to round the bases being all dizzylike. On ice it would be hilarious. That being said, it would be more interesting than curling.

To recap:
I felt lazy today
Sorry
Had New York style pizza for lunch today
It was yummy
I have a meeting to get to
More tomorrowBlogger is doing weird stuff still, please be patient
Cheers

St Patrick's Day Access Denied

What do I have to chat about today? Oh, yes, the aftermath of St Patrick’s day.

Little Man circa 5 pm Friday 17 March 2006


This is Little Man circa 8 pm Friday 17 March 2006


Little Man circa 9 am Saturday 18 March 2006



On to something completely different…

On Thursday evening and for most of Friday my blog was tagged with the dreaded “Blogger 403” error. It turns out that one of Blogger’s server clusters, or some other such thingy, went belly up Thursday evening, and took with it a number of blogs. Mine was amongst those affected by this limited outage.

Now, I do not have many goals in life. I really don’t. In many ways I let that part of my soul die. The part of the soul that has hope and ambition... yep, pretty much dead. I do have a small goal to increase the number of visits to my blog to reach at least 1000. So far I have tapped out at 825-ish. When that is my only goal in life, any disruption in service really hurts. Hurts my deadened withered soul. I waste hours upon hours of my day at work doing job related tasks when I could be monitoring Site Meter for site visits.

To recap:
I am not sure what was originally going on in those pics, but they do make a fun St. Patrick’s Day story
I am hungry
No comments on my last blog?
Clearly poop is not a topic for blogs
Either that or all of you are offended at my un-manly characterization of Dog Fancy readers
Site Meter is really neat
Best quote from a kid’s show: “Stella, don’t listen to the baby monkeys when they laugh at you.”
Truer words have never been said
So, all you blog readers, don’t listen to the baby monkeys when they laugh at you

Fancy That

Okay, I have been in a whole bunch of bathrooms in my day. What can I say? “I poop.” Today I noticed something in one of the men’s bathrooms that just seemed plain bizarre. Not bizarre as in the worms in the urinals bizarre, but just a little odd.

Now, many people are bathroom readers. This is not an activity that is really all that appealing to me, for I have a rather efficient pooper, and can get in and out of the bathroom tout de suite. So I basically do not have much reading time available in the restroom. But/t, (get it? “But“:“Butt,” God, I slay me!) that is just me and my rather efficient excretory system. Now, I know, all of you out there in the blogaverse wanted to know that. I am sure of it.

Anyway… in my tenure as a bathroom user, I have seen many a different reading material left in the bathroom stall. Most often it is a newspaper, usually the sports section, sometimes if you are lucky, it will be the comics. Every once and a while there will be a book lying about, but usually only in someone’s house. Sometimes there are magazines for people to peruse. Sometimes the magazines are of a gentlemanly nature, and I am not so sure they are for “reading.” These tend to be in bookstore restrooms, and were probably appropriated by 13 year olds. Ewwwww, I don’t touch those. I just don’t know where they have been. I noticed this when I worked at Barnes and Noble. Mangy kids! Anyway… Sports Illustrated is a big favorite in the men’s room, and for the sophisticated men in the office, Times or Newsweek seems to be the “go to” magazines.

Today in one of the bathroom stalls, I saw a copy of Field and Stream. No big deal there. I imagine there are a bunch of hunters that work here. I do live in Ohio, after all. Underneath that Field and Stream magazine, almost like it was purposefully hidden, like someone didn’t want the other guys in the office to know that one guy at the office was a subscriber to this particular magazine, was a copy of Dog Fancy. You read that correctly. Dog Fancy.

Now, before all you Dog Fancy readers get all huffy about me finding it odd that some guy in the office reads your magazine; I feel it is necessary to explain that I have no problem with people being puppy aficionados. I just do not quite understand the reading of said magazine whilst on the shitter. Who want to read about the latest in poodle grooming while taking a dump? Well, someone in my office, that’s who.

I will suggest that his name is either Darryl or Dale, just because those names make me giggle. I think it is due to their starting with the “duh” sound. I honestly don’t know if we have a Dale in the office, and the only Darryl I know of sits far far away from that restroom. But the more that I think of it, and the more the evidence points to the person not wanting to be found out, the more it seems likely that someone from across the building would place their copy of Dog Fancy in that restroom. Therefore I submit to you that it is Darryl (not sure of his spelling here) who is reading the Dog Fancy magazine whilst on the crapper. Elementary my dear Watson. Now Bring me more opium.

I just find this to be a rather brain teasing exercise.

To Recap:
Dog Fancy?!!?
Whose magazine was this, and why did they decide it was good reading material whilst taking a crap?
Yes, I once worked at a Barnes & Noble
I was a venerable Bookseller
It was there that I learned to hate the term “cashwrap”
Such a made up term
I have some chiropracty this afternoon
I cannot wait

Number 1!

For a moment there, I was Number 1. I never thought I could be first in anything non-specific on Google. But it happened. This blog, this blog you are currently reading, was the Number 1 entry on one glorious afternoon for the Google search hippo enemy. I am back to the crappy-assed number 2 entry now. Some zoo in Hawaii seems to have beaten me out as the Number 1 Hippo Enemy. Some zoo gets the Number 1 spot with information about how hippos are really their own worst enemies in zoo enclosures. I ask you when is hippo on hippo crime even information?

I have never been Number 1 for any 2 word Google search before. Not even my name produces a Number 1 entry for a Google search. I was the happiest person known to man yesterday, but reality soon made its presence known. Well, except for that whole Mother Nature screwing with my sinuses thing.

I am no longer the top of the mountain looking down. I am again climbing, striving to be something greater. My brief glimpse of Internet fame left me wanting more. Page 1 of the Google searches for ignorant Alabamians, turtle rave, “making fun of someone,” and Little Debbie oatmeal cream pie just doesn’t seem to feel as nice as being the Number 1 hippo enemy.

Greatness is truly fleeting. Sure I am Number 1 and 1.5 for the search hippo no natural enemy, but that seems to be splitting hairs for a search. Too many hedges leading back to my post. Now, Hippo Enemy, that was something great! 2 fairly common words strung together culminating in my rant against hippo-kind!


To recap:
Who’s Number 1?
The Honolulu Zoo’s Hippo Page
Smug little bastards! I bet they are just living it up right now in their tropical paradise weather and Number 1 hippo enemy status
I hate them with the fire of a thousand suns
But I would love to visit their zoo, it looks nice
My breath is minty fresh
I go to the chiropractor tomorrow
Maybe it will get rid of some of my headaches

Lithium

To steal a phrase from a friend:
"Mother Nature is off her lithium."

Of all the bi-polar (manic-depressive) nightmares I have ever dreamed, this one takes the cake. It was in the low 70's yesterday (22.22° C for you metric people and 295.3722 K for my physicist friends). Today it is snowing. So, on Sunday we did yard work. On Monday, Wifey took Little Man to the playground. Today there is snow! What in the Hell!?! Today my breath is freezing in my lungs, while yesterday I was sweating in shorts and a T-shirt with a rake in my hands.

One minute Mother Nature is all happy go lucky, the next she is sad. These swings are getting worse as well. You know, bipolar disorder can occasionally move into psychosis - hallucinations (seeing and hearing things that aren't really there) and delusions (beliefs that are not supported by the reality). If we haven shifted on over into delusions or psychosis yet, I imagine it will soon be happening. I will have to get Wifey to give Mother Nature clinical diagnosis, but as it is, as a lay person, Mother Nature sure is crazy.

Below are "signs and symptoms" of bipolar disorder. I truly think that Mother Nature may have it, the Internet is a wonderful thing.

Bipolar Disorder or Manic-Depression signs and symptons:

Signs and symptoms of mania (or a manic episode) include:

Increased energy, activity, and restlessness - check: it was raining like a mother fuck last night after 3 days of bliss

Excessively "high," overly good, euphoric mood - check: it was 70 in March for goodness sakes

Extreme irritability - I think the rain targeted me. I was about to leave the house and it started raining harder - then miraculously let up once I was in the car. I'd say she's irritable.

Racing thoughts and talking very fast, jumping from one idea to another - sun, to snow, to rain all in 12 hours!

Distractibility, can't concentrate well - see sun, to snow, to rain

Little sleep needed - Wait, that's more my problem. I haven't slept well since Little Man was born.

Unrealistic beliefs in one's abilities and powers - Mother Nature thought she could keep me inside and not go grocery shopping. She ain’t the boss of me. So, I showed her - I went to the grocery AND to the gas station. Take that!

Poor judgment - again, my problem

Spending sprees - wow, maybe I have the problem, but that Tron DVD wasn’t gonna watch itself.

A lasting period of behavior that is different from usual - okay, it's Ohio, maybe Mother Nature's behavior isn't sooo unusual.

Increased sexual drive - I don't want to know. I mean, ewwww

Abuse of drugs, particularly cocaine, alcohol, and sleeping medications - She huffs all the emissions and green house gases that come her way

Provocative, intrusive, or aggressive behavior - I was once hit with a piece of hail the size of a golfball. It hurt, more than that, it Hurt my feelings

Denial that anything is wrong - "it's Ohio. that's what happens here." I hear this all too often, heck, I just said it, but it doesn' t hold Mother Nature accountable for her erratic behavior.

Signs and symptoms of depression (or a depressive episode) include:

Lasting sad, anxious, or empty mood - The rain is apparently tears. Tears of sadness, tears of rage, tears of joy, tears of an empty mood - whatever. She's still crying.

Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism -Spring is never coming. Never! Oh wait, that's me again, whoops, sorry.

Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness - I think Mother Nature should feel guilty about her erratic behavior. Does she? That is a different question. Does she feel worthless and helpless? Not so much.

Loss of interest or pleasure in activities once enjoyed, including sex - Didn't she used to enjoy the sunshine? I think it was good for her. Somehow she just isn't bringing it back. Where is the love?

Decreased energy, a feeling of fatigue or of being "slowed down" -Again, this applies more to me. She's the one using all that energy to fuck with my head and sinuses.

Difficulty concentrating, remembering, making decisions - She does seem to vacillate between temperatures. 40 degrees in one day? (22 degrees on the Celsius scale for you metrics out there, and 22 K for the physicists) Make a decision, for Goodness Sake!

Restlessness or irritability - see irritability above.

Sleeping too much, or can't sleep - ooh, I can’t sleep, that one’s all me.

Change in appetite and/or unintended weight loss or gain - Yep, I’ve got that too. Who intends to gain weight? What kind of crappy question is this?

Chronic pain or other persistent bodily symptoms that are not caused by physical illness or injury - apparently, there's an ache in her heart that causes her to chronically persist in physically injuring my sinuses. Does that count?

Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts - I don’t' think that's an option when you are Mother Nature - I’m not sure, but I don't think it's an option. Please don’t let that be an option

Maybe I should move to Arizona, I hear their weather doesn't really change all that much. It goes from hot to stupid sweating next to an air conditioner vent hot, and not much else. I am just soooo tired of this shifting weather. I am tired of shifty weather as well; can't trust that crap. Always watching me. judging me. The shifty weather and the monkeys are in cahoots. I don't trust them. Don't trust them at all.

Ummm. can we forget that last paragraph ever happened? The monkeys would like it better that way. Mustn’t upset the monkeys. Never upset the monkeys.

Where was I? Oh, yes. The weather is messing with my fragile sinuses. Stupid weather.

To Recap:
No squirrels were harmed in the making of this post
It’s hot
It’s cold
It’s hot
It’s cold
It’s hot
It’s cold
Make up your damn mind!
See if you are bipolar
Thanks to Wifey for the help with Bipolar disorder information
Sadly, If I read the symptoms correctly, I’m depressed
Or sleep deprived, one of the 2
That makes me sad

Shiva

It was a nice afternoon. It was Thursday afternoon of last week. Thursday 09 March 2006, to be exact. I had just picked up Little Man from Grandma D and Grandpa R’s house. He had a great day with them. He was very happy to see me, but he had a good nap and a good lunch. All in all, it was a good day with the surrogate grandparents. We saddled up for the medium sized trek home.

Pirky has finally done it. He knows this is my territory. I have had it for at least 3 seasons. If he comes into my territory one more time, there will be a reckoning. I did not work for all this to let it be taken by some young pup with no idea of how hard it is to manage this amount of territory.

The trip was going very typically. Little Man was exclaiming, “UP! DOWN!!” in his usual exuberance while we wnet over speed bumps heading out of the condo complex to the street. Again the drive was un-eventful. I chatted on the cell with Wifey whilst Little Man listened intently to Laurie Berkner. All in all it was an un-eventful trip to chez SRH.

What the Hell is Nedly’s deal?!? He has way too much territory all ready. I am just going to take a corner of his. He won’t even notice. He is getting fat and lazy with all his land. I need more land so I can sleep at night without being too hungry.

We went passed the Wendy’s on the way home. Little Man bellowed at the top of his lungs for “chiri.” It is the delicacy of choice for Little Man from Wendy’s. We already had dinner planned for the evening, so no chiri for the Little Man tonight. I explained this to him, and It made him sad.

Sweet Mother of Jeebus! Surely that isn’t Pirky coming into my land again. “PIRKY! Get the Hell off my property!” If I can chase him into the street, he will know just how mad I am at him encroaching like this.

“Bring it old man!” If I can make it to the street, the old codger won’t really hurt me.

So we had to wait at the light to turn right. Some jerk cut us off at the last second who was going to go straight. Jerk. The light changes and the jerk in front of finally gets his craptastic car out of my way so I can turn on the street I should have been able to turn on if Jerkey McJerk from Jerksville hadn’t cut me off. We went passed the K-Mart entrance, passed the medical imaging building’s entrance, and were right next to a local ball field park entrance when it happened.

I know I shouldn’t chase Pirky into the street, but he needs to know that he can’t just flounce around on my land.

Good Lord! Is Nedly actually chasing me into the street. Gods! That guy is nuts!

What the Hell is that big black thing…

What the Hell is that big black thing…

They just came out of no where. The large one was chasing the smaller one. I can only assume it was some sort of territorial dispute, or something to do with available mates. They just ran out into the street. I think I hit both of them at the same time with both front tires. I don’t even think they had time to scream.

I am become Shiva, destroyer of squirrels.

To recap:
On Saturday I tagged another one
I think it was a memorial service for Pirky and Nedly
In squirrel territorial disputes, no one wins
Well, technically an ’03 Black Jetta wins
Most of the “To Do” list from Thursday got “To Done”-ish
“Kill 3 squirrels with car” should have been on the list
I am remorseful
No, really

To Do

I have much to do this weekend. It seems with my brawny self that I am too strong for the toilet’s flushing mechanism. That is right. I am quite the brute. I broke the flusher. Single-handedly. No, really, with one hand. Now my “To Do” list is longer. Yippee! So, in addition to the massive amounts of laundry we have to do, the veritable plethora of cleaning (can you use the word “plethora” without “veritable” before it? Why am I even asking, I know the answer is “No.”), and the maxin’ and relaxin’ I require, I now have to fix the flusher. Luckily it is a relatively simple task, but it does require a trip to the local hardware store. Again, Yippee!

So in my never ending – hardly beginning quest for better health, I will also be going to the gym this Saturday for a work out extravaganza. Hopefully, on Sunday morning we will be able to go for a hike with Little Man. So on top of the massive mountains of laundry, the “veritable plethora” of cleaning, the repair of the crushed flusher, and my required “maxin’ and relaxin,” I also need to add in some exercising. You see, my pants are getting a bit snug in places where snugness is not attractive. Moreover, they are getting snug in places that are definitely not comfortable with added snugness. I would rather lose the weight instead of going shopping for more clothes. I honestly do not know which would take more effort.

So, we are also running out of edibles in the pantry. So this weekend we also need to make a trip to the food store so’s we can cook us up some vittles. This also requires us to make a menu and plan the week’s meals out as well. Therefore, this weekend I have to summit Mount Laundry, accomplish a “veritable plethora” of cleaning, repair the flusher I ripped out of the porcelain god with my bare hands (not my “bear” hands… no thumb on those bad boys, they are only good for the swatting of the salmon), exercise my lazy ass, plan a menu, grab some “vittles” for the making of food, and my required “maxin’” and “relaxin’” to boot. This is turning out to be a busy weekend; especially with all the maxin’ and relaxin’ I have in mind.

To recap
Little Man fights sleep like sleep wants to scratch all his DVD’s
Conquer Mt. Laundry
If Sleep did scratch all Little Man’s DVD’s I would be opening a can of Whup-ass on good ole Morpheus myself
A “veritable plethora” of cleaning
I would bring it like a hammer
Accommodate a commode
Little Man will be getting a caboose for his home train this weekend
Sweat profusely on a device meant to torture 20 year olds
I will be sore on Monday
Plan food for the week
Our next three pets will be named Commander Sisko, The Lizard King, and Ultra-Man
Buy food for the week
We need to get some portraits of Little Man done
Max
“C” is for cookie, that’s good enough for me
Relax
And Tony rolls a 1

Wrong, just plain wrong

You know that you are officially old when you can “sleep wrong.” How in God’s name can something so wonderful, such as sleep, go wrong. I am indeed old, as reinforced to me this chilly, wet day in Columbus, Ohio. I slept wrong. Sweet God almighty, I clearly had no business sleeping last night, cause I clearly was just plain wrong in how I slept. I have a kink in my neck and a cric in my back. That is how wrong I slept. I didn’t just sleep kinda wrong. Nope, I slept way wrong.

“Sleeping wrong” is different than “not sleeping well.” “Not sleeping well” can be taken 2 ways. Firstly it could mean that one slept poorly, and, secondly, it could mean that one was ailing whilst they slept. I just plain slept wrong. By this I mean that the inherently comfortable position my body found itself in last night, turned out to be detrimental to my physical health. I ache. I ache like an old man in a rainstorm.

Sleep, you have forsaken me. Why Sleep!? Why?!?!? I have been good to you. I visit often. I am a conscientious sleeper. Sure I snore, but that just lets you know how deeply I love you, Sleep. Why have you punished me so? Is it because of Little Man? He is young. He doesn’t realize your wonders yet. He’ll come around. Sleep, don’t punish the father for the sins of the son. We do battle with the Little Army of One every night… for you. We pry open his vice-like grip on consciousness every evening… for you. I am one of your humblest servants, Sleep. Humblest, I say. I am the most humble. (Question: Can someone definitively say that they are “the Humblest” without making them “not the humblest?”) I would do almost anything for you. Why have you decided that I should be in pain? Why Sleep? Why?!?!?

It is actually a bit difficult disregard the annoyance at the moment. I can only concentrate on work matters for about 5 minutes before being rudely reminded that I am, indeed, an old man with old man aches and pains. It is not enough that on rainy wet days, such as today, my ankles hurt and my left knee aches. No, my back and neck have to ache as well. Growing older sucks.

Anyway… other than the weather sucking and me having some minor aches and pains due to “sleeping wrong,” not much else is going on.

To Recap:
Not only did I sleep wrong, I think I need some more sleep
I am officially old
Old and tired
We made a menu for the week, but I forget what dinner is supposed to be tonight
Last night we let Little Man have him some Burger King
At his favorite Burger King, yes he has one, he is known as “Captain Ketchup” by the staff
That is right, if Little Man were in the army, he would be the same rank as G-Money
If he were in the navy, he would out-rank my brother and G-Money
When he leaves that place, he leaves it like a rock star
He’s all, “Thank you, Burger King.” Then he drops the mic and walks off the stage
I need to see a chiropractor
Might get rid of some of the headaches

Boring Old Questionnairre

Again, I have waddled to the trough of ideas, and come up with nothing. I will attempt a questionnaire, in this case. I stole this from somewhere, but I don’t remember where. Honestly, I don’t care where I got it from. It is not the best of questionnaires, but I am not the best of bloggers. It seems we were made for each other.

GENERAL...
Blog name? Under Construction, which should be obvious since you are reading this at my blog’s page
Tattoos? Yep
Height? 6ft 1in or 1.85m
Hair color? Brown with red undertones, but starting to gray up a bit
Siblings? one biological brother who is just under 5 years older than me. I have other people that I count as family, but I will not embarrass them here.
Children? yep, one little boy who is 2.6666 years old
How old do you look? Umm I would have to say mid to late 30’s
How old do you act? Around 30
How old do you feel? Around 28
Do you have any pets? No, but I miss my old ones dearly

LAST...
Movie you rented? I have not rented a movie in a long long time
Movie you bought? Umm I am only partially embarrassed to admit this. Tron the 20th Anniversary Edition
Song you listened to? Ben Harper’s “Always have to steal my Kisses” wait… Stevie Wonder’s “Superstion” okay now Jamiroquai’s “Love Foolosophy”
Song that was stuck in your head? “Dee Doo Doo Doo, Dee Da Da Da” by the Police
Cd you bought? Jack Johnson’s “Sing-A-Longs and Lullabys for the Film Curious George” Little Man LOVES it. He calls it “Monkey”
TV show you've watched? CSI Miami, it sucked. David Curuso is a hack He has a deep voice and no acting ability. Hey, David, squinting is not a good way to convey emotion. You squinty bastard!

DO...
You have a secret crush? Sometimes I have a secret stash of Grape Crush, does that count?
You wish you could live somewhere else? The Mountains, I love me some mountains
You think about suicide? Of others? Sure, I imagine people taking their own lives all the time. Pending on the person, sometimes I giggle, sometimes I laugh heartily
Others find you attractive? At least Wifey did for a time. Well… at least she told me she did/does
You like cleaning? Umm… no
You like roller coasters? Nope

FOR OR AGAINST...
Using someone? For their expressed uses, sure. If someone is the cashier, of course, I will use them to trade good and services for legal tender.
Smoking? Against it in public spaces. If one would like to smoke on their own where it will not affect my or my little one’s asthma, more cancer to ‘em
Death Penalty? I think as an enlightened society there has to be something more effective than the death penalty.

HAVE YOU...
Ever lied to someone? Nope, wait I just did
Ever been in a fist fight? I think I was in one in grade school, it was a draw
Ever passed out on a street from drinking too much? Nope
Ever told someone you loved them when you didn't? I loved them at the time
Ever cheated on a test? Yep, a vocabulary test no less

WHAT...
Shoes do you wear most? Merrell Moto’s
Are you scared of? Vampire Bears, you should be sacred of them too
Do you want to be when you grow up? I unfortunately am a grown up
Is your least favorite chore to do? All of them, I am inherently Lazy
Makes you the happiest? Time with the fam
Upsets you the most? Intolerance
Always makes you smile? My intolerance of intolerance, it is a vicious circle.

NUMBER...
Of people I can trust with my life? With my life, or my life savings? Life, umm about 5, life savings in a cash form, about 5 as well, not always the same 5 people
Of times my name has appeared in the newspaper? Umm… I think I have been in a newspaper somewhere at least 5 times
Of things in my past that I regret? I regret nothing

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE...
Pretty? Umm… I am a guy, and I know of no man who considers himself to be “Pretty.”
Funny? I am pretty funny. Get it? See, I am not pretty, but I am pretty funny. Oh, God, I slay me
Friendly? I can be
Amusing? Sure
Ugly? I am sure to some
Lovable? To my family
Caring? Somewhat

FAVORITE...
6 letter word? Fallow
Candy? Hard Candy: Werther’s Originals Chocolate: Butterfinger
Cartoon? I am favorite cartoon-less at the moment
Cereal? Peanut Butter Capt’n Crunch
Color? Green
Day of week? Tuesday (some of you know why)
Season? Fall
Movie? Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Book(s)? Lord of the Rings Trilogy, “The Sparrow” by Mary Doria Russell, stuff by Tamora Pierce
TV Channel? HGTV

HAVE YOU EVER...
Kept a secret from everyone? Not from everyone
Wished you were the opposite sex? nope
Stolen someone’s newspaper? nope
Borrowed something never meaning to return it? I don’t think so

MISCELLANEOUS INFO
Do you speak any other languages? Broken French
Last flavor you tasted? Sierra Mist
Last noise you heard? some weird popping noises from the ceiling
Last smell you sniffed? Ummm, Sierra Mist
Last meal you ate? Lunch
Last emotion you felt? Angst. Is angst an emotion? Sometimes I worry that angst is not an emotion. It causes me great, umm... angst
Favorite item in your home? The PC, hey, I am a Geeky Geek from Geekton
Worst feeling in the world? Stomach cramps

FINISH THIS SENTENCE:
I Love... smoked salmon. I don’t really, but for some reason that is the sentence that came to mind, I am going all word association-esque on these bad boys
I Miss... South Dakota promise to abide by the rules and regulations stipulated by the Miss America Pageant. Wow, I don’t know where that came from either. I think it had to be the capitalized “Miss.”
I Wish... for fish with my Ish Wish Dish. This one is from “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish” by Suess
I Hope... I am done with this soon. These questions bore me
I Want... and want and want
I am... what I am , and that is all that I am
I need... to burp
I'd rather die than... not live. Ooooooh profound

To Recap:
Wifey thinks my belly button goes all the way back to my spine
It ain’t that deep
I will have something to blather about tomorrow
I promise, even if I had to make some shit up
I am glad that it is March, but I have no reason why
If you have better questions than this insipid questionnaire, please ask them, I will answer all of them.

Snicker-snack

So we found the absolute best toy ever for Little Man this weekend. It was purely by accident, and could no way have been concepted as a toy for him. Yet, he made it his own anyway. That is the way of children.

Wifey found some wrapping paper (not a Rapping Paper, or scholarly article in a recognized academic journal whose subject matter happens to be about the music commonly referred to as “Rap.”) on sale at Target (you always have to pay full-price for a “Rapping Paper,” them bitches never go on sale). It was a whopping $0.69 a roll. We constantly go broke saving money. It is bright and colorful, and has about seven colors associated with it. So by “bright and colorful” I really mean “really” bright and “very” colorful. We are very economically minded, so she only bought 2.

Little Man decided that 1 of the 2 tubes of wrapping paper was his. He started running around the house with it. Mooing into the tube and then giggling. He was doing this really odd thing where he placed the tube vertically along the door jamb and slid it up as far as he could and then giggled. He would slide it along the floor… and then giggle. Playing with wrapping paper seems to induce giggles. I am not sure if everyone out there was aware of that fact.

I do believe the tube became the rod of his station for a while. He would carry the thing around in the crook of his arm as he ordered Wifey and I around for his juice boxes and cornch. He was very regal indeed. All he needed was his ermine cape draped elegantly over his shoulders. The rod of his station quickly became his vorpal blade since he soon devolved into the swinging the tube around. He connected with Papa a few times… and giggled. It turns out I am his Jabberwocky.

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

To recap:
Boy, Lewis Carroll was a freak.
Wrapping paper = giggles
This weather is making a mockery of my sinuses
“I’m your Jabberwocky” is not a good ice breaker
I would much rather be the walrus to his carpenter
Ooh, I am all literary today
I can guaran-damn-tee you that tomorrow, I will have no literary allusions
Snicker-snack
I think that is how I will end most of my conversations
“So, I need you to change this line weight and play with the color saturation on this choropleth category. Snicker-snack!”