Busy Guy

I haven't had much time to post lately. Busy at work and not much going on......

Except late last week I finally bought a new car. My brother thinks its a midlife crisis, but he's just jealous. I bought a 2008 Honda Civic SI Coupe. Very sporty and quick and cool. Of course I got it loaded and haven't even figured out all the intricacies of the sound system and voice activated navigation.

My weekends have been busy with dealing. I've worked 8pm to 4am every Friday and Saturday for a month now. The Saturday shift can be tough if I haven't slept much but I'm falling into a nice groove and have enjoyed that direct deposit every Friday which comes in handy since now I have a car payment.

Easter Plans

I've mentioned in prior posts that I adore my wife's family. I've also mentioned that my wife's sister's husband M absolutely drives me bonkers. He's petty, insecure, loud, inappropriate and he usually drinks too much.

He tries really hard to be liked. Too hard. But he's awkward socially and when he drinks he gets unbelievably loud and conversationally domineering. Yesterday, Easter, was no exception.

Normally, I pretty much keep my distance lest I be caught rolling my eyes as I witness his wife do all-too-frequently. Furthermore, I don't wish to say some extremely innocent thing and have him totally misinterpret it and get all offended. We joke. We tease. Its all in good fun except to him. He never seems to get it.

All in all, the day was rather enjoyable. Towards the end a group of guys were chatting and the topic of visiting Uncle H's cabin in upstate New York came up. It sounded intriguing but I remained mum. They had three days in April picked out and were positive all of us were going to have an absolute blast even though only two of the five sounded like they were committed to it. M being one of them, of course.

Sadly, I didn't even have to think about it for two seconds. Except M, those in on the conversation are great and I know I'd have a good time and enjoy their company. But, if I can barely take M for 5 hours on Easter, there's no way I could tolerate him for 3 days plus. Also, could easily see two of the other four not going as well.

I wasn't directly asked so I didn't have to get out of it thinking it might blow over. Finally, about a half hour before I was to leave I was asked what I thought about the plan. They know I can always get work time off if I need it so that excuse wouldn't pan out well. So I mentioned my wife's work location change and difficulties getting The Little One from daycare and all that goes with that. A legitimate reason, but something I could probably work through if I was totally into going. As I explained that part of my reason for not going, my other sister in law chimed in with how she could help out with the Little One.

NOT the help I needed.

I leaned over behind my wife's back at the dining room table and mouthed to her, "No, thanks". She understood.

Its a shame it can't work out. The trip sounds fun on one level, but M would be insufferable. I really want to like himbut I just can't and I don't think many in the family see it differently than me.

Sylvilagus floridanus

May all your human-sized Sylvilagus floridanus intruders this Sunday leave you and yours tons and tons of cool schwag.

Privvy to my World

I am about to invite you into the inner workings of my world. Tread lightly and be respectful. Its not politically correct nor is it G-rated, so if you read my blog as bedtime stories to your children, tonight would be a good one to kick retro style and perhaps review Green Eggs and Ham.

Think of this as sort of like Cribs, but for text messaging.

My slightly younger brother and I delight and frequently sending texts to each other about people from the neighborhood in which we grew up. Inevitably, its about something we've made up but the artistry and humor is in thinking of someone the receiver hasn't thought of in years and years. Sometimes we'll drop a name in a voicemail as well. "Dude. Its me! Peter Jones. How ya been? Wanna hang out?" That sort of stuff.

Go ahead, borrow it. Try it with your siblings or childhood friends. Guaranteed to slay them.

Here's our latest word-for-word conversation and its translation. We are neither mature or intelligent but goddamn if it doesn't make us laugh.

B: Dave V. (kid in our neighborhood) was a fucked up dude (text came from out of the blue)

Me: I agree. Something just come out in therapy?

B: No. Chris S. would have come up in therapy (made gay advances towards B in H.S.) .

Me: He came up in your what? Ewwwwwww. Exactly what prompted the Dave V text?

B: T (his son) and I were skateboarding (Dave was always on a skateboard.)

Me: Oh, funny you mention that - I was just naked under an umbrella and thinking about Carol L. (she got naked under an umbrella with a neighborhood kid on a dare - we were probably 8)

B: What the fuck? That name would never come up in a million years (THAT'S the point!).

Me: Even while nude under an umbrella? Every time I am I think of her and PJ (the other kid) - I thought everyone did.

B: I was just daydreaming about Paula S.

Me: Me too - wait! who?

B: That chick that used to live next to K-Fag (childhood friend of B and we called him that nickname all his childhood and he grew up to be really good looking but then did a couple gay porns for $13,000- that sentence should give me some good google hits, eh Radioactivegirl? ) but moved away in second grade but not before showing me her vagina (this post just may set a record for hits.)

Me: Ohhhhh. I always mix her up with Cindy C (that's me grasping at straws and another extraneous name)

B: No, she looked more like old man Peterson's (wrong name) granddaughter. The one you were messing around with after Greg B. was done with her (ALL untrue! I assure you. Now he's F-ing with me!)

Me: Yeah? Well you did Daisy (good comeback, eh?) - Mr. Shultz's poor beagle (extremely old man who walked his dog every day and we would chat with him)

B: Daisy had a sweet ass. I just ran into Mr. S. He looks good (he would be at least 115 now).

Me: He was the best! Who was Peterson?

B: I couldn't remember his name (he meant Mr. Schultz).

Me: (Staying with the elderly - I'm going to hell for sure) Remember Mrs. C, Bobby's mom and Mrs. J. had that hot lesbo 3-way? (not one person in question was under 80)

B: Yeah. Its on Youtube.

There you have it. Our complex and thoughtful communications that both provoke, enlighten and entertain all at the time. Its a regular mensa meeting via Verizon.

Anyway, thanks for visiting. Now leave. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.

Hit Again

I'm rather fascinated by the search parameters that bring individuals to my blog. And a little creeped out at times.

I got hit with "my mom was moaning" last evening. For the life of me I couldn't think of how that google search turned me up as the number two website. Turns out it was my "Childhood Memories" post from last August. I had forgotten all about it. Now I've creeped myself out but I'm chuckling at the same time. I can't believe I posted something about my mom moaning! What was I thinking?

And to top that, I'm the number one website for "Seven little monkeys, swinging from a branch. Eating lots of sunflowers on my uncle's ranch". Huh???? As far as I know the only reference I make to monkeys in my blog is the "Guilty Pleasures" post of January, '07! I don't get that one at all except, if I remember correctly, that was a line from Something About Mary. Oh well.

I guess if you throw it all out there into cybers-pace, somebody will find it, eh?

Are You Pretty?

Are you pretty? Is it common knowledge that the beautiful people of the world get treated differently than the others? Is this one of the few types of discriminations that's still not labeled bad? Universally understood perhaps?

I worked retail all through college. Good looking people, women in particular, get treated differently. I remember an instance where a coworker noticed an attractive woman had left something she had purchased in the store. He ran outside and up the sidewalk nearly a block to catch her and give it to her. Would he have done it if she wasn't so attractive? Or, gasp!, a guy? He admitted there was no way he would have.

Today while at city hall I was taken aback at the attention a rather attractive African-American woman was getting and the male clerk's patience with her questions and concerns. I mean it was blatant. Its not that she didn't deserve excellent service as she seemed like a lovely woman, but I've dealt with this guy plenty. On his best day he's surly. Today though? Charming and accommodating. Normally, he and the other municipal employees there act as if they can't believe the gall we the citizens have for interrupting their day or at the very least they lack the requisite skills to hide the fact the public annoys them.

So. Pretty ladies? Do you know how good you have it?

TV BLOWS!!

I noticed last night as I cranked along on my recently-purchased treadmill that there is NOTHING decent on TV!! Holy crap it blows. Has it hit an all-time low? I don't know, but for those of us that couldn't give a rat's ass about anything "reality" or the lives of some future super-stars of pop music or the past stars rating them we're really left with nothing but the latest "Caught Composing Haiku On Tape" and "When Good Magicians Go Bad".

Dammit all! How long until baseball season?

MORE Heroism

Spring is the time of year when the Connecticut River loves to overflow its banks. Of course, low-lying areas flood as they have for years and years. In some rural areas that means the local authorities need to shut down a few roads for a time. No biggie. It happens every year and for the most part the areas affected are farmlands.

What also happens every year, is some doofus drives past the sawhorses, orange signs and blinking yellow lights and gets his SUV or pickup stuck.

This year is no different.

The news yesterday morning had a bit about a guy doing just that. His truck stalled in no more than 30 inches of water. Of course the news mentioned the "daring" rescue by the local firemen. Thank God for firemen and women! I have the utmost respect for the incredibly difficult job they do but you had to have seen the footage they showed on TV. The adjective I would have selected would not have been daring.

The water was as still as a mill pond. Its probably 1/4 mile from the main body of the river, so there's no surge of water that I could see. The truck wasn't even covered above the door handles yet the idiot was perched on the roof as if awaiting a helicopter rescue. Apparently, a dramatic air rescue was not in the cards. Instead, three firemen rowed out in some sort of wide, shallow canoe and saved him from......well....having to wade through what was probably really chilly water.

Some Time With My Friends

Its a 'net photo, silly! None of those slobs are me and God help me if I'm EVER that stupid. Maybe its staged, but its still funny......

Labels

You labeled me
I'll label you
So i dub thee UNFORGIVEN

Artist: Metallica
Song: Unforgiven
Album: Metallica (aka Black Album)

Years ago, I would bristle at the notion of any kind of label put upon me, unless it was indubitably positive.

Perhaps I'm maturing. Lately, I've tried to reflect a bit upon them. I still can get a bit defensive but I genuinely try to look into myself and ask why they may see me that way. Furthermore, I've labeled people myself and it doesn't mean that I see them one-dimentional and only as that label.

To wit: At my dealer school graduation the instructors literally had us come up one-by-one to receive our certificates. For each student, one instructor had a quip about them, mostly in poking fun harmlessly.

My label when I was called was "intense". It caught me off guard. At first glance into myself I don't really think of myself as that at all. I am usually reasonably care-free and go-with-the-flow.

For the rest of graduation, as the others were getting their certificates I kept saying to myself, "Intense? Really?".

So I stepped back and tried to see myself as the instructors saw me. Know what? I think they were right. I was very intense during my auditions. I was serious about learning, even if I joked around with the others at times, it was obvious when I distanced myself from guys screwing around too much. I practiced on my own a bunch too. I'm sure I came across as serious about being there and giving a shit about how I did. I'm not so sure intense didn't sum me up.

Looking deeper, I'm intense and emotional in athletics and other things I do and take seriously. While perhaps it can be a negative trait, I don't think it always is.

Label me: Intense. I can live with it.

By the way, my first night working in the casino last Friday, went so well I don't really have anything to blog about. That's a good thing too.

Heroic? Really?

I was watching the Today Show this morning as I was getting the Little One ready for school and they ran a blurb about the 14 year old girl who text messaged for help after being kidnapped. A truly horrible story and thank goodness she is okay.

What scrinched my eyebrows as they were describing her plight was the use of "heroic" a few times during the promotional teaser. The news media throws that word around a bit too much in my opinion. Not to belittle in any way what this young woman went through, but when did self preservation become heroic? Shouldn't that phrase be used for people who put their own lives a risk to save others?

I know the definition of heroic is being courageous and not limited to saving others, but was she courageous in simply not giving up? Do we now commend people for not giving up now? I guess in a world where we hold graduations for nursery school and award "participation" ribbons we do. However, its a basic animal element to survive and persevere. I don't think trying to survive qualifies for heroism any more than if I fought drowning after jumping a sinking ship. I'm fighting for my life. I don't understand where heroism plays into it.

Of course the important thing is that the young lady was found unharmed. There's no real harm in labeling her heroic either. It merely struck me as a displaced use of the word in this instance and others like it.

And then there's the video of that "mom" hosing down her kid at the car wash with a high pressure nozzle. What. The. Fuck? Sometimes, its so easy to hate people.

Its On!

I had my orientation for Foxwoods on Tuesday, got my snazzy uniform and begin my part-time dealer career tomorrow night from 8pm to 4am. Then next weekend I work those hours Friday and Saturday night, so I'm thrown into the fire.

I hate, really hate, learning new systems. For example the first day of school or new job. I'm sure others feel the same but at times I feel I'm the only one. I like that which is familiar to me. I like routine. Its where I find my comfort zone. Always have. I guess its my nature. Actual dealing tomorrow night doesn't make me terribly nervous. Learning their "clock-in" and "sign-in" and break schedules and where to report in that huge place does.

The current employees there have figured it all out, I'm sure I can.

Wish me luck.

Want to know something cool? They feed us there. Free. I can snack every break, which is 20 minutes every hour; sodas, salads, sandwiches, coffees, bagels, cereals, etc.. Plus, I'm given one free hot meal per shift; the above plus a carving station, rice, hamburgers, hot dogs, baked ziti, chicken, etc. Its the same food from their public buffet so its really good too. How many jobs do that for their employees. Having said that, they didn't make it sound too easy for me to get time off for my Disney trip in May. Gee. I'm a card dealer, not a surgeon. Oh well.

Yak!

I barfed!

Vomited. Threw up. Yakked. Hurled. Ralphed. Puked. Upchucked. Prayed to the porcelain god (technically I didn't). Blew chunks. Booted. Heaved. Spewed.

Yep. Hey, how's lunch?

Friday night after a friend's birthday party.

In my father-in-law's driveway.

In the snow so that it was there for him the next morning when he was snowblowing.

I believe his quote when I got up was, "Who had the pasta?" complete with a shit-eating grin.

Simply put, I didn't eat enough. Been a long time since I did that. Grey Goose Vodka and Ocean Spray Cranberry Juice plus only three or four bites of appetizers is a recipe for disaster. Yikes! I'm a little embarrassed, but by no means devastated.

My father-in-law, being the cool guy that he is, followed up his "joke" with, "Its not the first time I"m sure it wont' be the last." I'm sure he meant that somebody barfed in his driveway or his property because I hope its the last time for me, but.........who knows? I've said that before.

On Saturday I swore I would never drink again but I deep down I don't really believe I'll follow through with that promise. I've broken it before.

Boy its been a long time since I felt like that. Mrs. Blogger (who drove of course) when asked if I did anything embarrassing at the party replied, "You got a bit loud at the end there. But, no, not really."

Yeah. I barfed. Oh well.