Princess Fiona

Princess Fiona works in my office.

No, not the ugly/hot chick from Shrek. Its merely a moniker I bestowed upon a co-worker when I wanted to be clever as I listened to our receptionist disparaging her. The receptionist thought it was hysterical so we still use the name when Fiona's not around.

Our receptionist, let's call her "Fiery Latina", is all about "fair". As in, "that's so not fair" and "I don't get to such-and-such why does she get to?" You know the type. I like her. I really do, but sometimes her complaining gets under my skin. It takes very little for her to get pissed off at the apparent preferential treatment Princess Fiona gets. Normally, I kind of roll my eyes when she frequently goes off, but it can also be a source of amusement for me. However, I recently discovered something that would really set her off.

Now, Princess Fiona has a job that's on the same level as mine, although I've been here much longer and we have completely different tasks. I also make quite a bit more than her too. So, I have that going for me! Anyway, the Princess is allowed to work "mom" hours; meaning 7 to 3. That's cool. I understand she needs to do it and this company is very good about compromise and flexible schedules and family and all that crap. Hell, they to pay us for lunch hence my 8:30 to 4:30 schedule instead of coming in at 8 or leaving at 5.

Having said that, Fiona regularly comes in 15 to 20 minutes late which I saw again firsthand last week when I came in at 6:30 a.m. Usually nobody's here before 7:30 or so. So unless a boss called the office she's pretty "safe" doing it. But she does it every day.

Frankly, I don't really give a shit so I'd never say anything. I look at things as the company and me. As long as the other's work doesn't affect my work negatively, I don't really care if someone is late, or goofs off (as I write this blog during work time) or takes tons of time off or even does a shitty job. As long as they restock the paper when its out I'm good. That friggin' paper is always out too.

Anyway, I feel the company should pay me fairly for what I do (they do) and I should give them a very good effort for my compensation (I do). What the other's do is between them and this little company. I've run that philosophy by Fiery Latina but for the life of her, she can't see it that way. Its "not fair" in her mind. I understand where she's coming from on one level but feel she should worry about herself and her own work and not about others.

Now since Fiona leaves before the last mail pickup of the day she brings all our outgoing mail to the Post Office on her way. The place is literally 2 blocks away. When I've done it it took all of 3 to 4 minutes, if not less. It would be "fair" then, in my opinion, for Fiona to leave at 2:50 or so. You know, give her a cushion in case there's tons of old person traffic. Maybe she's cautious too, because she leaves at 2:25. No shit, 2:25. Bold girl. The bosses to my knowledge have never said anything.

So after a while of her doing that every day, I thought that perhaps they adjusted her hours to leave at 2:30 and switched to a 37.5 hour workweek (not including the tardiness). Nope. Today I saw her timecard. She logs 7 to 3 p.m. Really bold girl.

Know what? I still don't care. Certainly, I sneak out on occasion, but not EVERY DAY! There are days I work late too without additional compensation. If stuff needs to be done I stay if I can. If I need to skip lunch, I will. Fiona NEVER would. Never. Seems to me, though, she's playing with fire. They're very free about our scheduling and such and accommodating people's need to leave early, come in late, etc. But, since they treat us as adults they expect us to act like adults. To that end, there's not always a warning before letting someone go. I've seen it. I don't think Fiona's job is in jeopardy but it surely is a blatant way of taking advantage of their generosity.

Oh well. I hope Fiery Latina never finds out Fiona's paid for 40 hours. Latina thinks she's underpaid as it is. I don't need to hear all about that again.

Argh!

Last night I had a great idea for a short, funny post for today.

But I can't remember it.

Dammit!

Help!

Hey there everyone! Its me, Super Mario!! Nouveau is STILL slamming at work so he asked me to swing by his blog and let everyone know he's busy working his ass off for "the man". Well, he does get paid for it, so its all good.

Anyway, I'm going to try to help him through the crappy end of this month and his mountain of files and calls but since my expertise is more along the lines of princess rescuing, key searching and mushroom hopping I'm afraid I'll be of little assistance.

Fear not, however, he'll be back with his sleep-inducing attemps at humor, incredibly over-wordy rants, baseless diatribes, convoluted opinions, pseudo-sycophantic familial tales and knife to the eye warranting movie reviews.

Slammed

I've been slammed at work this week as I usually am this time of year. I haven't even had time to think about what to write let alone sit and write something. At least I was authorized for overtime. So I have that going for me.

Perhaps someone I'm dealing with at work will piss me off and grant me inspiration to write. Stay tuned.

***Updated 6 hours later ***

I have a slightly unusual first name. Its one everyone is familiar with but not so common that if someone calls my company and asks for me by first name alone, the receptionist (du jour around here) will have trouble knowing who they want (no, its not Lars, or Gunther, or Kermit, or Wolfgang).

Anyway, I was giving a woman information so she could call me back about a matter of importance.

"....and your name?"

"Nouveau"

"Do you have a last name?"

Long pause as I think about answering "No, I'm like Madonna or Cher or Fabio or Slash or Pink or Jewel or Sinbad or Prince or Flea or Charo or Sting or Beck or Bono or Liberace (ok not like him) or Seal or.........

Yeah! I'm THAT important!!"

But I didn't. I wanted to, but I didn't. "Blogger" I said.

Weekend Update

Our weather has finally broken into spring! Highs near 80 on Friday, over the weekend and into today. About friggin' time!

Therefore, Friday night I went to Home Depot to get some items I needed for the work I planned over the weekend. It took awhile plus I needed gas and beer. Got home in time to watch the Red Sox play the Yankees and make a great 8th inning comeback to win! Woo hoo!

Saturday morning I got up very, very early to get a run in before I went to play golf. Alarm buzzed me at 4:45! VERY proud of myself. Did three plus miles in which I saw two deer down the end of my road, showered and went to the course an hour before tee off to work on my game. I thought I found where the problem has been with my swing but it only lasted the front nine. Shot 44 then 50! 94 total! Argh! I should be in the mid 80's not mid 90's! Oh well. I'm trying to have fun still but feel pretty frustrated out there.

Came home and immediately got to work on installing a new decorative retainer wall along the front of the house among other yardwork. That took up a good chunk of the day. Showered up in time for Red Sox / Yankees game at 4pm. Another great win thank you very much!

During the game my sister-in-law called because she wanted to take the Little One overnight. Fine by me! So Mrs. Blogger and I decided to go out for dinner. First we called friends of ours to join us but they weren't around so we went to a nice little place we go to maybe twice a year. Surprised to learn the restaurant was having a comedy show in the lounge. Perfect! When we walked into the lounge who was there? The friends we called! More perfect! They were with other friends as well. Four couples. None of them go there very often either. What are the odds we go that particular night?

Anyway, we had a blast! The comedians were quite funny. We also had lots of laughs about Mrs. B's low-cut blouse. The women commented a few times about "them" much to Mrs. B's embarrassment. The guys noticed too, but didn't comment as much. She's not huge by any stretch, but they're nicely sized and I think the "presentation" made for even more. That and a good bra which I learned if from Silky's from the lenthy conversation the women were in.

I, of course, didn't mind the "attention" she got at all. On the contrary. I always enjoy "showing her off" as long as it's sexy but not slutty. It was tasteful in my opinion. Having said that, Mrs. Blogger is pretty modest and the attention from friends made her self conscious. She wouldn't care so much about strangers but with friends it was different. "I wore it for HIM, not all of you!!" Funny stuff.

The evening flew by. This place's bar usually shuts down at midnight but they stayed open until 2 a.m. for us. In Connecticut that's the latest allowed by law. Apparently we were spending plenty of money and tipping well. The bartender and manager even hung with us and had some drinks. They even treated us to a few rounds on the house. Alas, I was driving so I took it easy but everyone else got pretty lit up. My buddy's wife even left early (he stayed!) because she drank too much. Fun, fun night!

Then on Sunday morning, after sleeping in a bit, I fired up the mountain bike and went for an hour jaunt! Its been years since I rode but quickly remembered how much I missed it if not how out of shape I've gotten. I banged up my knee in a little spill but had fun and got a real good workout. I will try to make that my Sunday morning routine. I can go alone, but I'd love to find someone with whom to ride.

When I got back I finished the wall, did some landscape planning, planted some new plants, washed the car, went for some Chinese takeout and got home in time for....you guessed it....Sox/Yanks on ESPN at 8!! Sox won. Again! I really like this team!

Nice weekend. I'm going to try to make it a habit.

Wake and Bake

I went to a smallish state college probably more known for its baseball than its academics. I'm quite sure when the Trustees got together they vacillated between new shrubs to surround the baseball grandstands or books for the library. At least the field always looked nice!

Anyway, my sophomore year I was lucky enough to land housing in a "suite". A suite meant four guys, two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room and bathroom. One of my roommates, Steve, and I became very good friends although we didn't share a bedroom. His bedroom roommate quit school about 4 weeks into the semester so he had a room all to himself. Well, all to himself on nights his pornstar-moaning girlfriend didn't stay over. Which was often.

My bedroom roommate worked as a dispatcher for campus police. He was rarely around in the evening and when he didn't work stayed over his girlfriend's place or went home to mommy. So essentially, Steve and I shared a two-bedroom suite with occasional visits from my roomie, usually in the form of an afternoon nap.

Now Steve liked him some ganja. Pot. Weed. Herb. Mary Jane. He was a wake and bake guy. Within minutes of his morning alarm going off there was a sweet smell emanating from his room. When he came back from class he sparked up. After dinner he hit the pipe again. It didn't bother me at all but it wasn't my thing except for maybe after a raucous night of drinking when I might be thinking none-too-clearly and imbibe with him. Frequently we would start some crazy drinking game called Mexicans where if you rolled snake-eyes you did a gravity-bong. Yeah, good idea Bob Marley, I'll go along with that! Then I'd get all paranoid.

Of course, Steve could get away with partying his way through school. He freely admitted his instructions from his old man upon leaving for college was to just graduate. That's all he had to do. Graduate. Naturally, he went for the easiest business degree available and fist-pumped his nights away with every "C" or better. Then he'd get himself good and baked. You see, his dad had a million dollar business from which he was ready to retire and Steve was an only child.

The lucky bastard never had to work a day in college. He never had to worry about how he might pay the cable bill, or buy a book or eat or fill his tank. In fact, he would come back from winter or spring break with a new engine in his vintage Monte Carlo. Or paint job. Or stereo. Or tires and wheels. I would come back having worked 70 hour weeks and that much closer to bankruptcy. Nobody was paying my ride through school nor down the highway. My car at the time cost $200. The stereo cost $300. Insurance was the minimum allowed by law.

At the time, I was a biology major and studying my ass off all while working full time in a ski shop. I'd come back with a lab due the next day and see Steve sitting comfortably watching television with a glassy-eyed smile on his face. I hated him during those times. But it was impossible to hate Steve for long. He was a really good guy.

My work benefit was I got to ski free on Sundays too. I loved that and went almost every weekend. Sure, I had to pinch some pennies for gas and bring peanut butter sandwiches along for energy but other than that the day was free. Hell, I remember eating relish packets and getting back with only fumes in the gas tank. Good times!

Anyway, good old Steve had a great philosophy on studies as well. Besides his credo of "if you study baked, you HAVE to take the test baked" he apparently had the uncanny ability to assimilate information through his penis. How else could one sit on the couch, with a book open on his lap, the TV on, the stereo blaring and a bong at the ready and actually learn anything? Steve had it all figured out.

Eventually we graduated. Perhaps he carried a 2.02 or thereabouts but he did it. He went back to his home state and married his all-too-loud girlfriend (whom I adored except for the lost sleep) and shortly took over his dad's business. I'm guessing he probably makes $500,000 a year and I'd bet that even now, not a day goes by that he doesn't wake and bake.

Good old Steve.

Tech

They were in class, minding their own business, trying to better their future through education, or teaching so as to better a young mind.

If you were so distraught over the loss of a love, a grade, a shitty childhood or stress of life and felt pissed at the world, then you could have promptly removed yourself from it.

You DIDN'T HAVE TO take a bunch of innocent lives with you, you SELFISH FUCK!

Holes and a Soak

On Saturday, I went to help my father-in-law dig some fence-post holes. He needed three for a little project and since he lives on somewhat rocky soil one must break the all-too-frequent stones with an iron bar. I know that his arthritis is killing him so Easter Sunday I offered to help and Saturday seemed as good a day as any. It was a royal pain and certainly hard work but I was done in about an hour and tried to make it a workout.

I like to do things for him as he is the first to help me with any of my projects. He was sincerely appreciative for my help although I know he wishes he didn't need the help. Too much pride perhaps but I understand completely.

Afterward we hung out in his sprawling garage and bullshitted as we downed a couple cold ones while I ogled with envy his incredible display of tools and machines. My mother-in-law called us in for dinner just as Mrs. Blogger was arriving from some studies. After dinner we had a nice soak in his hot tub complete with plenty of conversation and more adult beverages well into the evening.

He spins a good tale as he tells me of his time growing up, or in the military, or about jobs he's held. I retort with my own tales and he makes for a good audience. Many of his stories I've heard before, of course, but I rarely say so preferring to let him finish. He was surprised to hear that I had begun dating his daughter 19 years ago. Strange in a way because 19 years ago puts him only a few years older than I am now. Usually his stories are funny and he's not afraid to show himself as flawed in his younger days. I admire that. Its nice to know the real man and I respect him and what he's been through and from where he came. I love hearing about it all.

I know he has probably embellished the rehashed accounts over the years as I've heard his quips about his "twin-half-stepbrother Spudloaf" numerous times. The jokes are kind of corny but I still find myself laughing sincerely. Many exaggerated tales he's probably told so often they're real in his head at this point, so there's a certain consistency to them and they're quite charming.

He also likes to present his "outlook" on things ranging from the mundane, such as how to repaint an old steel chair, to money management, to his views on politics and social services. More often than not, we're not entirely in agreement on the political ideas but he's respectful of my views, listens well and presents his counterpoint without getting emotional or taking offense. I try my best to be the same way. We even had a rather long discussion about the "F" word which had me laughing.

He's always treated me as a son. Of course, his real kids have some resentment left over from childhood that I didn't experience. He's a no-nonsense sort who believed that everyone should do plenty of work around the house and yard. In response, they'll make sure to un-sugarcoat a story about when they were younger should he bring one up.

In spite of that, he and my mother-in-law raised mostly successful, fine upstanding adults and there is no doubt they all love and respect him.

Just as I do.

Munich

Last night I watched "Munich". Directed by Steven Spielberg, its the story about 1972 Munich Olympics massacre and its aftermath. Eleven Israeli athletes were taken hostage by the Palestinians during the games and the German's attempt at a rescue resulted in all their deaths at the hands of their captors.

Of course, Israel adheres to a strict "eye-for-an-eye" type retaliatory code and always seeks revenge on those that kill Jews.

Eric Bana, of The Hulk and Black Hawk Down fame, plays the man commissioned to assassinate those responsible. He is given a crew of Daniel Craig, the new Bond, as a trigger man along with an expert forger, bomb-maker and clean-up man. All are "off the grid" in that Israel "doesn't know them" but they are financed and paid by them to complete their mission.

The mission itself makes for a good thriller. Spielberg directs with a very nice, understated, but violent, touch. Of course the acting is very good too, as can be expected.

Its a haunting movie which really causes the viewer to think. What sets it apart is how Bana's character, Avner, begins to realize the futility of his mission. As death comes easier and easier to him he loses colleagues and comes to realize that no matter how many of those responsible are executed, they will merely be replaced by those perhaps more ruthless.

Muddying the ideal, too, is the attitude of avenging death that avenged other deaths that avenged those preceding them going back for who knows how long. When did it begin? More importantly, when will it end?

Spielberg's tale raises more questions than answers. Of course, Spielberg himself is Jewish. He plays it a bit balanced though in allowing us to see into the Palestinians side of things, albeit to a lesser degree. There's a terrific scene of dialogue between Avner and a PLO operative at one point. Of course, they meet later too but I will withhold details.

Avner also begins to suspect that his government may be misleading him and his crew into assassinations that may not have anything to do with Munich but may be serving its other objectives. When he asks for proof that one man he executed had something to do with the athlete's deaths he is given none. His superiors fluctuate between "we don't know you, remember?" to "tell us all you know" and "do as we say, don't question it". It becomes unsettling to Avner and he becomes paranoid that perhaps he can't even trust those he works for, let alone his enemies.

Its poignant that his government may be misleading him to do their work and it sounds all-too-familiar to me. Eventually, Avner is brought to Brooklyn to be reunited with his wife and new baby. He fears for them as well and the last scene pans back to show the Manhattan skyline across the river, complete with the World Trade Center Towers in the background.

I rate it: MUST SEE!

"I can DO it"

I've mentioned my nearly four and a half year old daughter, "The Little One", a few times here but I thought a post ABOUT her would be fun. Well, maybe not fun, but I don't have any ideas today and I was just thinking of her.

Proud parents will always say how smart and bright their child is. Of course, I'm no different. I DO wonder if someone out there says, "Little Jimmy? Yeah, he's a good boy, but not the sharpest tack in the drawer". They can't ALL be smart, can they?. Anyway, I hear from her teachers and relatives and others that after a conversation with her they can't believe how smart she is or the words she uses. At four she had already met all her criteria for kindergarten, academically and socially, but doesn't start until September.

Evidently, she's a very vocal and precocious little girl who is better when others are around than for JUST mommy and daddy. Although, at times she has a slight stutter - which we're about to begin services for - the outlook is good. She uses adult phrases and words constantly and in context. She has a knack, kind of like me, for remembering lines from movies. However, packaged with her apparent intelligence and vocalization comes stubbornness and manipulation.

Case in point; this morning she was VERY difficult. Maybe she didn't' sleep enough or feel well or the cold rain is getting to her. I asked her to help me help her get dressed. "I can't do it!!" is her reply. Then she half-heartedly attempts it only when asked. Of course, the other week she did it just fine to make us "proud", as she said. I ask her to start brushing her teeth but before I can paste her brush, "I CAN DO IT!!!". Great. I let her. She does an ok job so I ask her to start her teeth (I finish them after to make sure at thorough job is done) and I get "I don't know how". Of course she does. Then I threaten her to at least start and she flicks a tooth for a second. "No, you can do better than that". Her answer is "No I can't" Next its "Little One make sure you go potty". She responds, "I don't know where the bathroom is" or "I need you to get the toilet paper".

ARGH!!

Her "pain in the ass mood" seems directly proportionate to how late we're running.

Other times, I'll ask her to do something and get, "Ok daddy!" She does it. No problems. Unfortunately, I think her agreeableness is about 50/50.

Double ARGH!! Why can't she do this all the time?

Of course, Mrs. B and I like that she's independent and a bit stubborn. Not bad traits to have as she moves into young womanhood and adulthood. But when she plays "Miss-Dependence" it drives us nuts!

Then she'll say something funny or cute and my frustration TOTALLY disappears.

And she's growing up fast. Her favorite song now is that sampled Supertramp one by Gym Class Heroes...."Take a Look at My Girlfriend....". Thinks its hysterical and I can't turn the volume up enough when its on.

In other areas, she has NEVER really napped much, even as a baby. In school she is allowed to sit and read while all the other kids nap. Then she's very likely to still be up at 11:30 at night watching a movie as Mrs. B and I sleep.

And she sleeps in our bed. I know, I know.....I don't want to hear it.

Lastly, and I may have mentioned this before, she has excellent balance and coordination. She seemingly NEVER falls down or off anything. VERY rarely hurts herself while her cousins and friends are bruised and battered and broken and stitched.

Oh, and she's CUTE AS HELL! Everyone agrees on that -- not just her parents.


** updated maybe 6 hours later -- pretty boring post, I'll try to do better. I know I can **

Dust Off and Climb Back On

I noticed that when I was golfing on Saturday, I became a bit winded walking up one of the steeper hills on the course. Such that for a minute or two, conversation was a tad labored. Yes, its a really big hill and kills (figuratively) other golfers so much that those that walk (which I always do) avoid that nine altogether. And, yes, I'm 40 now. But still.....

When I mentioned it to Mrs. Blogger she sort of looked right through me. I think it was in the vein of "that's not the Nouveau I know!" but it might have been in the "yeah, you are letting yourself get disgustingly out of shape". Hmmmm.....

In any event, I have only been to the gym three times since Vegas almost a month ago and before that I was concentrating more on lifting than cardio. I resolve to take this as a kick in the ass! I can get back into the lifting no problem. The time off might have been good for me even as I'm nursing assorted injuries.

So, I lifted last night. That was great. Lately I've had people tell me I looked bigger which is reward enough for how hard I worked over the winter. Do you know it takes a 40 year old twice as much working out to gain the same amount of muscle a 20 year old does? There's THAT much less testosterone in the system. How crappy is that?

My workouts were at the expense, somewhat, of my cardiovascular conditioning. I don't care for the treadmill or the time out of the house nor the injuries I keep getting. But HATE not being in shape even more. So when I got home from the gym I went out for a run. Yeah, it was chilly (fucking summer get here already! They're talking snow tonight!), it was windy and I hated it for the most part, but I'm going to really try to get three days running and one day biking per week until July 4. Then reassess from there.

And, since I stated it here I can't let my good readers down can I? Plus, I don't EVER want that look from Mrs. B again.

Furthermore, I need to start my fitday entries again too. Which I will, starting today!

I started slow last night. 1.5 miles in 12:28 (my neighborhood is hilly too). I will try not to be speed-conscious but just try to log the mileage and take it from there along with mixing in a bike ride on the weekends. Throw in a round or two of golf and that should make for a nice, rounded week of exercise. Hopefully I can make some headway. I even brought in a Weight Watchers Smart One for lunch. I think its their Classic Ass of Dog meal, but I'm not positive.

For sure, if I can walk that hill again and hold a normal conversation, Mrs. Blogger will find me irresistible, right? Wish me luck!

Don Imus

Radio personality Don Imus was suspended yesterday two weeks for comments he made on his radio show. I am unaware of the context in which he said it, as I've only heard excerpts, but he attempted a lame joke in which he referred to the Rutger's Women's basketball team as "nappy-headed ho's".

Certainly he is wrong. Of course those women deserve a profound and sincere apology. No doubt about it. Whatever punishment he receives is just fine by me. I've heard, too, that he's used racial slurs in his private life in the past. That goes to show, in my mind, where his mind is. I used to be somewhat a fan of his as I liked the political angle of his show and it was at times funny. He stepped way over the line in this instance, however. Punishment should and is being handed down.

What kind of bugs me as well, though, are Al Sharpton's and Jesse Jackson's outrage about it. I believe both are calling for his head by wishing him fired. Fine. That's their right and I believe the consuming public and his advertisers will have the last say in that.

Having said that, they appear a bit hypocritical in this instance. Aside from the fact that both men have had past issues in which they've had to apologize (i.e. anti-Semitic remarks and the Tawana Brawley issue) I wonder where their outrage is when rap music refers to women as "hos", "bitches" or free use of the "N" word. Is this case that much different? Why? Because a white guy said it? Why don't they speak more vocally about their own race's relative impunity when it comes to vocalizing the demeaning of women, using racial slurs or glorifying violence? If they do, its certainly not with the vigor in which they've come out against Imus. Surely, they both have the forum in the form of their own radio shows.

I've heard Jackson speak in person publicly. He was terrific. I came away informed and impressed. He could, if he was inclined, push an agenda that its simply wrong to demean women of ANY race. Its wrong for ANYONE to use racial slurs. He could speak more about the overuse of the terms "bitches" and "hos" and "niggers" or "niggas". We all must remember, its not only 18 to 25 year old males, of all color, listening to these lyrics either. Children hear it, pick up on it and emulate it. I don't care where you're from or for the excuse that its the "culture" and "we don't understand". That crap merely propagates more of the same.

Sure, its free speech. But free speech still has consequences.

Until some in the power position, meaning consumers, begin to speak out against it in the form of where they put their hard-earned dollars, it will continue. Until eloquent speakers, such as Jackson or Sharpton, can exude their reasonably powerful influence over a big chunk of those consumers, then perhaps it is doomed to continue. It seems hypocritical to take some to task for racially charged or insensitive comments but not others.

No matter who is spouting them and no matter their background or education or experiences, it is wrong. Everyone in our society should take issue with it.

Easter Weekend Wrap-Up

Had a nice little weekend. Here's how it went:

Friday:

Woke up early so I decided to go into work so I could get out early if stuff was in order. Spent most of the day setting up my new work computer. Its such a hassle to transfer all the work related documents, data-bases and programs (still doing it today). However, this new PC is so much faster and nicer. Also, it has the new Microsoft Vista Operating System. Its taking me a bit to get the hang of some aspects of it, but I will be fine. Loving the flat-panel screen and all the extra desk space.

Things went well and it was quiet there, so I was able to bug out of work by 2, hit the driving range on the drive home and spend a few hours with the family before I was off for poker night. Came in 6th out of 29 I think. Didn't earn any money, but earned points toward the end of the year tournament. I'm playing pretty well. Got home real late though at about 1:10 a.m.

Saturday:

Got up early again because I was golfing in the afternoon and wanted to get some stuff done around the house prior to going. Planned to clean and do some yardwork, however, I only ended up making an apple pie (I am kind of learning to cook a few things) for Easter Dessert. Spent lots of time chatting away with Mrs. Blogger so before I knew it it was time to head out to the course. I've been practicing well so I expected to play well but didn't. I played ok, shot 89, but I can be so much better. I keep reminding myself its early but I'm a bit disappointed in my game. Going to have to keep working hard. Having said that, it was cold and windy too - about 42 degrees. So that's my excuse for now. Spring's arrival is sure taking its sweet-ass time this year.

Came home in time to shower and dress quickly as we were off to a 40 year old birthday party for a friend. It was in a little Mexican Restaurant that turned into a Karaoke bar at 9. I was driving, so I had to soberly watch many of my idiot friends, who swore up and down at 9:15 they wouldn't do it, make fools of themselves a few hours later. Ah! Margarita's, Corona's and a microphone. Good times!

Mrs. Blogger drank way more than normal for her and was pretty funny belting out Melissa Etheridge's "Come to my Window". That's out of character for her, but she was quite lively (which she always is, but moreso liquored up) and we really did have a blast. Then I poured her into the car where she stayed since she refused to go inside her parent's house to pick up The Little One. They suspected the reason why she didn't come inside to pick up their granddaughter and had some good laughs about it the next day.

Easter Sunday

Again, awoke early (can you tell I'm tired today?) to get some yardwork done (cleanup, trimmed, raked, etc.) showered and changed to go to the In-Laws for Easter dinner at about 1pm. Rather intimate affair this year (there were about 10 of us) but it was very, very nice. My apple pie was great and the Little One used excellent manners and listened well, so we were very proud parents. Mrs. B was hung over as was her sister who was also in attendance the night before, so they were rather subdued.

In spite of how shitty she felt, Mrs. B. wore stay-up, thigh-high, stockings to dinner (Rowr! Rowr!). However, she was cursing them by 2pm or so since "stay-up" is merely packaging propoganda. The things women do for their men! Funny, too, how stockings at mid-thigh are hot, but down around the knees they become the exact opposite of hot.

Anyway, an enjoyable Easter. We were even able to watch a bit of the Master's after dinner (Tiger didn't pull out the victory) before heading home at about 7 so I could eat more (as if I needed to) and watch the Red Sox beat Texas 3 to 2. Of course, I was dozing off in the 8th inning at around 10:45.

That's it. Quiet enjoyable holiday weekend.

Silly Wabbit!

Well, Easter is fast approaching. Normally, its one of my least favorite holidays because -

• I'm Agnostic, so the religious spirit of it doesn't aftect me as much as others;
• Peeps and Circus Peanuts could be the most disgusting things ever invented;
• I don't get any extra days off work;
• I don't care for Easter-type foods such as Ham and ....... ummmm........;
• It's light on family as many of them are off to other locations;
• Normally (when its in March) there's no good sports to watch on TV.

Having said that, its different this year in that I get joy from The Little One dressing up and excitedly searching for eggs. Plus, I can ogle Mrs. Blogger since she dresses for dinner too. A plus!

This year promises more family as a lot of Mrs. Blogger's family are staying local and I haven't seen some of them in quite a while. So that will be great.

Easter is late enough this year so there's baseball and the Master's golf tournament that day. Knowing me, I'll chow down on Easter Ham (hopefully avoiding those damn peppercorns), have a few drinks, some great conversation and get home in time to watch the last hour of golf. Then on later that night on ESPN my team plays the Rangers in high definition.

So I have that going for me.

Now -- how the hell did the Easter Bunny and egg/candy hunts come about from a religious holiday? And what the F kinda screwed up rabbit lays eggs?

I did a bit of Googling on the 'net. Apparently, prior to the birth of Christ, parents told their children that a magical hare would bring gifts for the spring festival. Those gifts, often times, were colored eggs which represented new life. Probably at some point it became more fun to make the kids work just a little for their treats, so the parents hid them (citation).

The bunny came about because it "had been a symbol of fertility and renewal of life which fit in with the tradition of Easter"(citation). That and Trix Cereal of course.

I'm sure all of this is perpetuated by Hallmark, CVS, Walgreens and whathaveyou as well. Oh, and that company that makes the fake grass. And peeps. Probably a strong lobby, eh?

Happy Easter everyone!

Linky link

I haven't any ideas on a post today or yesterday for that matter. However, I have been involved in a discussion regarding the Iraq war in the comments section of one of Katie's posts. So, if you're interested in my thoughts on that perhaps you want to check it out. I hope Katie doesn't mind. If she does, I can cut and paste some of it back to here.

Painful Memories

Yesterday I was doing a bunch of stuff around the house. One chore I wanted to accomplish was to move my wood pile (I have an outdoor fireplace) from beside the shed to behind the shed. I found it a bit of an eyesore. Well, I had been storing other eyesore-type stuff behind the shed, so I had to clear all that away first. Then I had to modify the wood stand I made to hold the firewood so that it would fit how and where I needed it to.

Part of what I had behind the shed, from an earlier project, was a section of stockade fencing and some posts. So I thought it'd be a great idea, so as to not be an eyesore for anyone, to install the fencing 4' away from the back of the shed. When finished I could store the wood inside and other crap, like gardening stuff, in the area I created. Nice and tidy and neat -- just the way I like it. And I'm sure my neighbor to the rear, with the meticulously maintained pool and backyard, would like it too.

So as I'm putting the last post in (which was too tall and would need to be trimmed later) I had to use my new aluminum "Little Giant" ladder (Xmas gift courtesy Mrs. B) which I set up as an A-frame. I needed it to get above the post in order to hammer it down. Well, it must have been the dirt caked on my boots that caused me to I slip. My foot went inside the rung and inside the ladder which caused my fall to be awkward. I fell backwards and out but my lower leg stayed fixed and upright. Dammit! I NEVER fall. My leg got twisted weirdly and hurt like hell. I mean, it REALLY hurt. I hobbled inside leaving all my tools and stuff outside. After contemplating it for an hour I decided (along with Mrs. B's persuation) that I needed to go to the Emergency Room where I learned (after over 3 hours) that I cracked my fibula. Broken leg! They tell me I will be laid up for 8 to 12 weeks with a cast. I MIGHT be able to walk on the cast the last two weeks. All this JUST as golf and softball season are about to start too! So we're talking mid-July before I can do ANYTHING and then I'll need to restrengthen the leg and all. Here I sit in my office with my right leg in a cast nearly crying at what a wasted summer I'm going to have!!

So what am I going to do now? This sucks! I mean its TOTALLY going to ruin everything! I've already paid for my golf pass for the year, for Christ's sake! I'm really bumming that I'm not going to be able to do all the April Fool's!!!! Yeah, sorry! I know its late. I didn't fall and I didn't get hurt. I didn't have to go to the hospital. I did install the fencing and it looks great but since I completely forgot yesterday was AF I thought I'd throw one out here. I once fell like that and broke my leg when I was eight, but not this past weekend.

I DID get a sliver though. And it smarts!