So I just watched one of our IT department members lead a copy machine repairman through the hallway, past my office. He was pushing a copy machine on a cart. A couple of minutes later, the same two passed, moving in the same direction, doing the same thing. Now, I know after checking into my facts that it was actually two different copy machines, and that to get the second one they had gone through a different hallway. However, from my perspective, it had looked like they were doing laps around the building with a copy machine. OK, this story is only funny to me, I think. It loses something when reduced to text -- much like dead rock star bands with George Harrison on bass.
A thread on the Jabberboard, posted by T-Rav, inspired me to continue my career as a rap superstar. I don’t feel like locating the specific thread or link, but the gist of it is that there’s a challenge for people to create an album of music during the month of February. This sounds like fun. I’m gonna try it. What the heck. The point is not to make a good album, it’s just to make an album. I even wrote some new lyrics yesterday, including such poetic nuggets as “…The Funk / I’m bringing is tight and stinky kinda like a dying skunk / Stuffed down the girl-pants of some emo punk”. I expect a Grammy nomination post-haste.
Gwenner can suddenly talk now. It’s not perfect English, of course, but it’s like some sort of switch flipped inside her head and she just understands how words work. There’s still a lot of cuteness involved with the process. We put her mittens on her hands this morning, and said, “Here are your mittens!” She looked quizzically at one of them and said, “MINNEN!” Adorable. (To me at least). Then, understanding that bundling up against the cold means that we’re leaving, she started waving and saying, “BYE!!! BYE!!!” What a cutie.
My marathon of Star Trek came to an abrupt halt in favor of watching whatever stupid shit is being broadcast in HD, simply for the reason that HD is the bomb. So yeah. Who needs Kirk and Spock when you can see the top 100 Guinness World Records? Mmm, Guinness. Makes me want another stout. Tonight, perhaps.
Stimulating the Economy!
I spent most of Saturday and Sunday watching my glorious new TV. Yes indeed, on Saturday I went to Best Buy with Kerry and Gwen, and we picked up a spankin’ new 40” Samsung. It has become a wonderful part of our family, and has quickly gotten used to its new surroundings. As of right now, it is completely housebroken, and is well on its way to becoming a perfect companion and nanny. I love the new TV. Hehe. Toys are fun. Now I’ve just gotta work out the WoW vendor mathematics and apply them to the old TV in order to sell it. Maybe I should use a Dragon Warrior sales scheme instead…sell it for ½ of what I paid for it. Hmm. Not sure of that amount. That’s not something to decide right now, though.
Aside from getting the TV, the weekend was excellent. My prof is behind in my Tax class, so this means that I got a weekend that was completely homework free. This is and always will be a wonderful feeling. I got to spend the weekend hanging out with my girls, doing essentially whatever we wanted to do. It was a thousand kinds of awesome.
Yesterday, in order to get out of the house (the TV needs some time on its own, to become completely comfortable) Kerry and I took Gwenner to the Mall of America. We bopped around there and had a grand old time. Gwen loves looking at the lights and people, and just absorbing all of the sights, sounds, and smells of chaotic commerce. She’s going to grow up to be a fine shopper, especially if she’s anything like her mom. In other words, I’m doomed.
While we were there, we took the punk to Underwater Adventures to check out the fish. U.A. was absolutely packed, which is most likely because recent events have led people to expect hot shark on shark action. Thankfully there were no instances of sharky cannibalism yesterday.
Gwen was terrified at first, because the first section (The foresty, pond-filled area for those that have been there) has a very loud roaring waterfall. That, coupled with all of the people, caused lil’ miss Gwennerpants to clutch at Kerry with vise-like strength, and to occasionally whimper or even wail. All of that changed when we got into the aquarium tube, though. At that point, she started LOVING it. She would point at ever fish, turtle, or other sea creature that would swim by, and she would freak out with glee. She even learned how to say ‘turtle’ before the end of the day. What a crazy little cutie-pie.
I bottled my Trappist ale last night, and the taste that I took of it made me supremely excited for the finished product. Two weeks oughtta do it. This brew is gonna knock people on their keisters. Should be awesome.
Aside from getting the TV, the weekend was excellent. My prof is behind in my Tax class, so this means that I got a weekend that was completely homework free. This is and always will be a wonderful feeling. I got to spend the weekend hanging out with my girls, doing essentially whatever we wanted to do. It was a thousand kinds of awesome.
Yesterday, in order to get out of the house (the TV needs some time on its own, to become completely comfortable) Kerry and I took Gwenner to the Mall of America. We bopped around there and had a grand old time. Gwen loves looking at the lights and people, and just absorbing all of the sights, sounds, and smells of chaotic commerce. She’s going to grow up to be a fine shopper, especially if she’s anything like her mom. In other words, I’m doomed.
While we were there, we took the punk to Underwater Adventures to check out the fish. U.A. was absolutely packed, which is most likely because recent events have led people to expect hot shark on shark action. Thankfully there were no instances of sharky cannibalism yesterday.
Gwen was terrified at first, because the first section (The foresty, pond-filled area for those that have been there) has a very loud roaring waterfall. That, coupled with all of the people, caused lil’ miss Gwennerpants to clutch at Kerry with vise-like strength, and to occasionally whimper or even wail. All of that changed when we got into the aquarium tube, though. At that point, she started LOVING it. She would point at ever fish, turtle, or other sea creature that would swim by, and she would freak out with glee. She even learned how to say ‘turtle’ before the end of the day. What a crazy little cutie-pie.
I bottled my Trappist ale last night, and the taste that I took of it made me supremely excited for the finished product. Two weeks oughtta do it. This brew is gonna knock people on their keisters. Should be awesome.
Rant
When people steal from someone else, it’s seriously one of the crappiest things in the world. That whole “something for nothing” mentality is a load of crap to me. People that steal just suck. Now I realize that many are technically guilty of stealing something on some level, like music for instance. I think we all know that there’s varying degrees of suckitude here, and that particular example is on the low end of the spectrum. Taking two grapes from the grocery store is also not a big deal. The reason? It’s an inconvenience at best to a giant mega-entity that is perfectly aware of a certain amount of this type of behavior and is prepared to deal with the relatively minor inconvenience of the deal.
However, when it comes down to stealing something from a single person, that’s when it starts getting really effing evil.
I say this because two of my friends have had their World of Warcraft accounts hacked and stolen, and all of the hours (nay, days) of work that they put into their characters wiped away in one swell foop by some stupid prick. I think that people that do this sort of thing should have their hands removed. Sometimes the best method is the medieval method. Sorry for ranting here, but it really cheeses my freaking beef.
Hopefully this latest prickery will be rectified by Blizzard management and all will be set aright. The thing that really bugs me is that whoever does this crap is probably going to get away with it.
I love video games. I absolutely love ‘em. What I don’t understand, never have, and never will, is why (especially in an online environment) people have to be such complete and utter tools about it. I’m not just talking about hacking accounts, which is the pinnacle of idiotic jerkness. I’m talking about the wastes of mommy and daddy’s juices that make death threats to the children of people that beat them in Halo. Seriously WTF? You’re dumb. I’m talking about the people that spend actual currency in order to purchase a high-level character on an MMORPG. Dood…did you just spend a bunch of money so that you wouldn’t have to play the game? WTF? You’re dumb. I’m tempted to give up the online life and just play Zelda or something, so that I have absolutely no chance of having some tool 10-year-old spamming me to help him with “just one more quest” before his mom makes him go to bed.
OK That’s a lie. I love WoW too much.
However, when it comes down to stealing something from a single person, that’s when it starts getting really effing evil.
I say this because two of my friends have had their World of Warcraft accounts hacked and stolen, and all of the hours (nay, days) of work that they put into their characters wiped away in one swell foop by some stupid prick. I think that people that do this sort of thing should have their hands removed. Sometimes the best method is the medieval method. Sorry for ranting here, but it really cheeses my freaking beef.
Hopefully this latest prickery will be rectified by Blizzard management and all will be set aright. The thing that really bugs me is that whoever does this crap is probably going to get away with it.
I love video games. I absolutely love ‘em. What I don’t understand, never have, and never will, is why (especially in an online environment) people have to be such complete and utter tools about it. I’m not just talking about hacking accounts, which is the pinnacle of idiotic jerkness. I’m talking about the wastes of mommy and daddy’s juices that make death threats to the children of people that beat them in Halo. Seriously WTF? You’re dumb. I’m talking about the people that spend actual currency in order to purchase a high-level character on an MMORPG. Dood…did you just spend a bunch of money so that you wouldn’t have to play the game? WTF? You’re dumb. I’m tempted to give up the online life and just play Zelda or something, so that I have absolutely no chance of having some tool 10-year-old spamming me to help him with “just one more quest” before his mom makes him go to bed.
OK That’s a lie. I love WoW too much.
A Day Off
So I took the day off today. I totally had great intentions -- I was going to go to the Court of Appeals and observe some oral arguments. Yeah. It turns out that it was colder than @#$% outside this morning, and that Kerry needed the car today. My own car is still covered by a foot of snow and ice, because we carpool pretty much every day. Therefore, I figured that Old Man Winter was telling me that I should just take the day and do fun things. So I did.
I played a little WoW in the morning, but not too much. I actually managed to get a bunch of reading done for school, so I was fairly productive. Then Kerry and I went and experienced my first venture into Indian cuisine. It was actually delicious, despite my preconceived notions. I'd go back. Good stuff.
After that we went to the mall and got some clothes and such. Then we went to Beast Buy and looked at some awesome TVs. We've made up our minds on a nice set to purchase, and we're excited to get it. Most likely that will happen this saturday, which is full of win.
I've been on a Star Trek kick lately, watching season one of the original series. It's completely badass, and I love it. It's kind of random that I decided to get into it now, but it's actually a really impressive series.
Yesterday, I accomplished something that I haven't been able to do in a long, long time: I finished a story of fiction, all the way to its conclusion. Usually I start something, write and write and write, and never finish it. This time, I did. The story is called "Three", and it's a kind of zany and profane look at parallel universes and the like. If you want to read it, send me an email and I'll shoot it over to you. It's 50 pages, so it stretches the boundaries of "short" story, but it's a quick read. It's also my first foray into writing something in the first person (aside from assignments given to me for my English major upwards of a decade ago).
That's all I have for this evening. I shall return on the morrow, most like.
I played a little WoW in the morning, but not too much. I actually managed to get a bunch of reading done for school, so I was fairly productive. Then Kerry and I went and experienced my first venture into Indian cuisine. It was actually delicious, despite my preconceived notions. I'd go back. Good stuff.
After that we went to the mall and got some clothes and such. Then we went to Beast Buy and looked at some awesome TVs. We've made up our minds on a nice set to purchase, and we're excited to get it. Most likely that will happen this saturday, which is full of win.
I've been on a Star Trek kick lately, watching season one of the original series. It's completely badass, and I love it. It's kind of random that I decided to get into it now, but it's actually a really impressive series.
Yesterday, I accomplished something that I haven't been able to do in a long, long time: I finished a story of fiction, all the way to its conclusion. Usually I start something, write and write and write, and never finish it. This time, I did. The story is called "Three", and it's a kind of zany and profane look at parallel universes and the like. If you want to read it, send me an email and I'll shoot it over to you. It's 50 pages, so it stretches the boundaries of "short" story, but it's a quick read. It's also my first foray into writing something in the first person (aside from assignments given to me for my English major upwards of a decade ago).
That's all I have for this evening. I shall return on the morrow, most like.
A Hypothetical.
Strictly hypothetically, let’s say I worked in a place that made rules that were getting more and more ridiculous. Hypothetically, when writing about said place, I would refrain from ever naming it. That would be something akin to naming the dark one. Hypothetically.
Now, since we’re pretending here, let’s pretend that this particular place of business has rules about internet use. Most businesses do. That’s not just their prerogative, it is good business. You don’t want your staff searching for pr0n while they should be working. However, my little hypothetical place of business takes it one step farther. They physically block each and every internet site, and then go back and allow the ones that are specifically work-related. This creates a problem (in my…ahem…fictional world here), because when someone is legitimately trying to get to a web site for a business purpose, it’s generally something they need RIGHT NOW. However, poor out-of-luck worker bee just gets a proxy screen stating that the policy of this company is that the intarwebb is for business purposes only. Are you with me so far? We’re still pretending. Anyway, PretendCo takes at least 24 hours to process a request to get a site un-blocked. This creates a ton of inefficiency.
It’s also unrealistic. You see, people need mental breaks. I don’t know what they did before the internet, because thankfully I’ve never had to deal with it. I suppose there was a lot more water cooler talk and gossip. Funny phenomenon, that. You see, as soon as PretendCo went and took the internet away from employees, there was a rash, nay an outbreak, of gossip mongering. Seriously, everybody and their brother was in each others’ office, or emailing each other, or whatever…all gossiping about their coworkers, their management, etc. The atmosphere around PretendCo PLUMETTED, and morale decreased exponentially. The lack of being able to have a mental release by reading a news article or something caused people to gossip about each other. It made everyone angrier.
But that’s not the whole bit of the problem. You see, PretendCo is split into two floors. Soon it was discovered that all of the people on the top floor did not have their internet blocked; only the lower floor. This caused the people on ground level to hate (and therefore gossip about) the people on the top floor. After all, most of them weren’t management. What is it that entitles them to get some internet action, yet forces the grunts on floor one to be restricted? It didn’t make sense. Furthermore, Upper Management had tried to convince all of those restricted slave pigs that this internet blockage was company-wide, yet it soon was discovered that this is not the case at all. In fact, this blockage only exists among a relatively small number of people. This caused further frustration.
Then came stage three. People with restricted internet access started to rebel, and search for ways around the block. Believe me (and of course we’re still pretending, here…this is nothing but a work of fiction, a study on human behavior in the work place, if you will…) many such workarounds were found. They range from brute-force attacks to more subtle practices, and no detail will be divulged here, to protect the hypothetical guilty.
If I were a hypothetical employee on the first hypothetical floor, I would be angry…especially if I had been blessed with hypothetical access, only to have it taken away. Either way, gentle reader, this blog post won’t accomplish anything. I just kind of want to rant.
Hypothetically.
Now, since we’re pretending here, let’s pretend that this particular place of business has rules about internet use. Most businesses do. That’s not just their prerogative, it is good business. You don’t want your staff searching for pr0n while they should be working. However, my little hypothetical place of business takes it one step farther. They physically block each and every internet site, and then go back and allow the ones that are specifically work-related. This creates a problem (in my…ahem…fictional world here), because when someone is legitimately trying to get to a web site for a business purpose, it’s generally something they need RIGHT NOW. However, poor out-of-luck worker bee just gets a proxy screen stating that the policy of this company is that the intarwebb is for business purposes only. Are you with me so far? We’re still pretending. Anyway, PretendCo takes at least 24 hours to process a request to get a site un-blocked. This creates a ton of inefficiency.
It’s also unrealistic. You see, people need mental breaks. I don’t know what they did before the internet, because thankfully I’ve never had to deal with it. I suppose there was a lot more water cooler talk and gossip. Funny phenomenon, that. You see, as soon as PretendCo went and took the internet away from employees, there was a rash, nay an outbreak, of gossip mongering. Seriously, everybody and their brother was in each others’ office, or emailing each other, or whatever…all gossiping about their coworkers, their management, etc. The atmosphere around PretendCo PLUMETTED, and morale decreased exponentially. The lack of being able to have a mental release by reading a news article or something caused people to gossip about each other. It made everyone angrier.
But that’s not the whole bit of the problem. You see, PretendCo is split into two floors. Soon it was discovered that all of the people on the top floor did not have their internet blocked; only the lower floor. This caused the people on ground level to hate (and therefore gossip about) the people on the top floor. After all, most of them weren’t management. What is it that entitles them to get some internet action, yet forces the grunts on floor one to be restricted? It didn’t make sense. Furthermore, Upper Management had tried to convince all of those restricted slave pigs that this internet blockage was company-wide, yet it soon was discovered that this is not the case at all. In fact, this blockage only exists among a relatively small number of people. This caused further frustration.
Then came stage three. People with restricted internet access started to rebel, and search for ways around the block. Believe me (and of course we’re still pretending, here…this is nothing but a work of fiction, a study on human behavior in the work place, if you will…) many such workarounds were found. They range from brute-force attacks to more subtle practices, and no detail will be divulged here, to protect the hypothetical guilty.
If I were a hypothetical employee on the first hypothetical floor, I would be angry…especially if I had been blessed with hypothetical access, only to have it taken away. Either way, gentle reader, this blog post won’t accomplish anything. I just kind of want to rant.
Hypothetically.
I loathe technology
OK, I'll acknowledge that technology brings some wonderful things. In fact, I've become absolutely dependent on some of them, and have no idea what I did before these innovations came about. My computer, the internet, my iPod, cell phones, etc. The problem that I have, and the source of an overabundance of frustration, is that nothing ever works the way it's supposed to.
I realize that anything I say on this will either make me look stupid or crabby. Whatever. One example is my internet connection. When (for whatever reason) my connection at home is slow, or even worse not working at all, it makes me want to break things. Large things. Another prime one is my email at work. For some reason or maybe for a multitude of reasons, it will randomly start taking a ton of time to send or receive messages.
Now I totally understand that these things are normal. I understand that they happen for a number of reasons. That does nothing to stop my pissed offedness, however. In my (naive) opinion, technological wonders (or terrors, in the case of the Death Star) should WORK THE WAY THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO. Ahh, wishful thinking. Just too many darn variables involved, I suppose. A hammer is also a tool that should work like it's supposed to. There are much fewer things that can go wrong with a hammer, but I've been using one that had its head fall off. Suddenly this tool stopped working. I imagine that each little bitty part inside my devices of awesomeness also has a chance of behaving the way that hammer's head did. It still doesn't stop my anger. (I imagine that rhyno is feelin' this right here, as he just sent me an email that mentioned "catastrophic hard drive failure". Yikes.)
The email thing has caused a phenomenon in my mind that I've named "email blueballs". Pardon my crudeness. This is the situation that occurrs when I send out an email and don't get a reply. (Wait, stop. I'm not trying to accuse any of you here. This is just a thing in my head.) The problem that I have is that a full 50% of the time, it's because my email at work sucks, and either hasn't sent the message, hasn't received the message, or is doing something else that makes it take an hour and a half for a delivery. So, during that lenghty amount of time, I sit there wondering if something that I said in my last message somehow offended the recipient to the point of their not wanting to talk to me any more. That's just my paranoia, though. I acknowledge that I'm part of the problem here. ;^) I also acknowledge that there often isn't anything necessary to reply to. Maybe I'll get all crazy like my boss and request read receipts on all of the emails I send.
In other news, my Stout is done, and is tasty-tasty.
I realize that anything I say on this will either make me look stupid or crabby. Whatever. One example is my internet connection. When (for whatever reason) my connection at home is slow, or even worse not working at all, it makes me want to break things. Large things. Another prime one is my email at work. For some reason or maybe for a multitude of reasons, it will randomly start taking a ton of time to send or receive messages.
Now I totally understand that these things are normal. I understand that they happen for a number of reasons. That does nothing to stop my pissed offedness, however. In my (naive) opinion, technological wonders (or terrors, in the case of the Death Star) should WORK THE WAY THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO. Ahh, wishful thinking. Just too many darn variables involved, I suppose. A hammer is also a tool that should work like it's supposed to. There are much fewer things that can go wrong with a hammer, but I've been using one that had its head fall off. Suddenly this tool stopped working. I imagine that each little bitty part inside my devices of awesomeness also has a chance of behaving the way that hammer's head did. It still doesn't stop my anger. (I imagine that rhyno is feelin' this right here, as he just sent me an email that mentioned "catastrophic hard drive failure". Yikes.)
The email thing has caused a phenomenon in my mind that I've named "email blueballs". Pardon my crudeness. This is the situation that occurrs when I send out an email and don't get a reply. (Wait, stop. I'm not trying to accuse any of you here. This is just a thing in my head.) The problem that I have is that a full 50% of the time, it's because my email at work sucks, and either hasn't sent the message, hasn't received the message, or is doing something else that makes it take an hour and a half for a delivery. So, during that lenghty amount of time, I sit there wondering if something that I said in my last message somehow offended the recipient to the point of their not wanting to talk to me any more. That's just my paranoia, though. I acknowledge that I'm part of the problem here. ;^) I also acknowledge that there often isn't anything necessary to reply to. Maybe I'll get all crazy like my boss and request read receipts on all of the emails I send.
In other news, my Stout is done, and is tasty-tasty.
Anger, Nostalgia, and Old Man Winter
My morning at work started off with rapidly rising anger levels. One of my coworkers claimed that she was "too swamped" to continue with a phone application that she was taking, and transferred the call to me. She then came into my office and proceeded to have a trivial chat with another coworker of mine, in my office, while I was still on the phone doing her job for her. It felt like my veins were about to burst. The dagger stare that I gave her has so far served its purpose in keeping her out of my sight for the remainder of the day.
William Mitchell's yearly mailer thing came in the mail today, and Kerry and I were flipping through it over lunch. My undergrad school, the University of Minnesota, Morris sends out a very similar mailer, and it's funny to compare the two. Both of them (like the majority of other schools, I imagine) have a "class notes" section which details the accomplishments of the alumni. The difference between the two is that the notes in the Morris publication say things like "Suzy Queue ('02) Married Benny Hill ('00)" or "Jane Doe ('99) gave birth to baby daughter Matilda". This is in stark contrast with the majority of the notes from the Mitchell pamphlet, which say "Jed Jenkins ('06) joined the firm of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe" or something very similar. In other words, the major accomplishment of the majority of law school graduates is that they were actually able to get a job. This makes me astoundingly happy about my fairly secure future plans.
Dang...in order to procure the link above, I actually just visited the web site of my alma mater. It made me really miss the college days. I think that my wife is content to have moved on and grown up from the old college days of reckless abandon, but I still have a part of me that wishes I was still there. Maybe that's just a wish to be young. On the other hand, I look at the web site and see these pictures of kids. The term 'college kid' now seems so much more apt than it did while I was there. When I was in college, I felt like I was a grown up person capable of making rational decisions and whatnot (even though I proved myself wrong on more than a couple of occasions) but seriously...I looked like that! I wasn't any older than college students are now. They're a bunch of punk kids! I hope they stay out of my yard. Don't make me call the cops, whippersnappers!
So yeah, there's nostalgia when thinking about the years betwixt 1995 and 2000. At the same time, though, there's relief at being able to have moved on from there. I'm glad to have grown up. I'm glad to have moved on! I'm glad that someday I'll be able to write, in so many words "Ben got a lawyer job!", and that it can appear in both of the mailed publications from my schools. ;)
This ridiculously cold weather is making me want winter to be over. I know I'm not the only one. I'd much much rather be too hot than too cold. The cold weather and pervasive darkness start sinking a soul in an amazingly short amount of time. Winter blues aren't helped by the misnomer "Spring Semester", which just fills my thoughts of wearing shorts and playing golf. Unfortunately it's 24 degrees outside (Woo! Winter heatwave!) and there's a foot-thick blanket of snow and ice. BOO! Soon, though. I can lift my spirits with thoughts of a few months from now, grilling some burgers and enjoying a beer on the back patio. Soon enough.
William Mitchell's yearly mailer thing came in the mail today, and Kerry and I were flipping through it over lunch. My undergrad school, the University of Minnesota, Morris sends out a very similar mailer, and it's funny to compare the two. Both of them (like the majority of other schools, I imagine) have a "class notes" section which details the accomplishments of the alumni. The difference between the two is that the notes in the Morris publication say things like "Suzy Queue ('02) Married Benny Hill ('00)" or "Jane Doe ('99) gave birth to baby daughter Matilda". This is in stark contrast with the majority of the notes from the Mitchell pamphlet, which say "Jed Jenkins ('06) joined the firm of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe" or something very similar. In other words, the major accomplishment of the majority of law school graduates is that they were actually able to get a job. This makes me astoundingly happy about my fairly secure future plans.
Dang...in order to procure the link above, I actually just visited the web site of my alma mater. It made me really miss the college days. I think that my wife is content to have moved on and grown up from the old college days of reckless abandon, but I still have a part of me that wishes I was still there. Maybe that's just a wish to be young. On the other hand, I look at the web site and see these pictures of kids. The term 'college kid' now seems so much more apt than it did while I was there. When I was in college, I felt like I was a grown up person capable of making rational decisions and whatnot (even though I proved myself wrong on more than a couple of occasions) but seriously...I looked like that! I wasn't any older than college students are now. They're a bunch of punk kids! I hope they stay out of my yard. Don't make me call the cops, whippersnappers!
So yeah, there's nostalgia when thinking about the years betwixt 1995 and 2000. At the same time, though, there's relief at being able to have moved on from there. I'm glad to have grown up. I'm glad to have moved on! I'm glad that someday I'll be able to write, in so many words "Ben got a lawyer job!", and that it can appear in both of the mailed publications from my schools. ;)
This ridiculously cold weather is making me want winter to be over. I know I'm not the only one. I'd much much rather be too hot than too cold. The cold weather and pervasive darkness start sinking a soul in an amazingly short amount of time. Winter blues aren't helped by the misnomer "Spring Semester", which just fills my thoughts of wearing shorts and playing golf. Unfortunately it's 24 degrees outside (Woo! Winter heatwave!) and there's a foot-thick blanket of snow and ice. BOO! Soon, though. I can lift my spirits with thoughts of a few months from now, grilling some burgers and enjoying a beer on the back patio. Soon enough.
Nothing new
My darling wifey made chocolate chip cookie bars yesterday. If ol' George Dubya is still on his madman quest to find some WMDs, may he look no further. My wife is the bomb.
Class resumed last night without much fanfare. In fact, it was quite the opposite of a fanfare-deserving event, because it was Income Tax, and that subject is incredibly boring. I must say that the professor is a dynamic guy, and I have high hopes of his ability to make the class interesting. The fun continues tonight with Employment Law. Maybe I'll glean some wisdom as to whether I can get any money for being forced to listen to this god awful music. It's got to be considered some sort of torture...
Not much to report on today, I'm afraid. Today is another rather dull link in the chain that is life. Work is uneventful and I'm feeling like a delicious cup of coffee. Well, feeling like consuming one. I'm not feeling like a cup of coffee. I don't really know how a cup of coffee feels. ;^)
Class resumed last night without much fanfare. In fact, it was quite the opposite of a fanfare-deserving event, because it was Income Tax, and that subject is incredibly boring. I must say that the professor is a dynamic guy, and I have high hopes of his ability to make the class interesting. The fun continues tonight with Employment Law. Maybe I'll glean some wisdom as to whether I can get any money for being forced to listen to this god awful music. It's got to be considered some sort of torture...
Not much to report on today, I'm afraid. Today is another rather dull link in the chain that is life. Work is uneventful and I'm feeling like a delicious cup of coffee. Well, feeling like consuming one. I'm not feeling like a cup of coffee. I don't really know how a cup of coffee feels. ;^)
The last free weekend
Blast, that was a freakishly fast month. Of course, any amount of time that I'm off of school seems to go by like lightning. I guess that's kind of the nature of having fun. My last relatively free weekend before getting back into the grind was fun, though.
I took the day off on Friday, and Kerry was off as well. We brought Gwen in to daycare in the morning (mua ha ha) and enjoyed a breakfast at a local greasy spoon. It was overwhelmingly delicious. The place we went to serves ridiculously large portions, so my omelet took up my entire plate. We gorged ourselves. Yum.
In the early afternoon on Friday we went to Southdale and took in a matinee of the Golden Compass. For those of you that haven't read the book, I'm gonna do my best to not post spoilers here. The movie would have been much better if it was longer, but I think the American public is getting sick of 3+ hour fantasy epics, so this one came in under 2 hours. The result was a kind of choppy telling of the tale, with a lot of changes and characters being merged and whatnot. If they release an extended edition DVD I'll buy it, but not as-is. Another gripe is that they cut the movie off well before the book ends. BOO I say! Either way it ends in a cliffhanger, I guess, so it doesn't much matter. Whatever. I was still happy to get to go to a movie with my wife. That experience has become rather rare.
Unfortunately, this weekend our refrigerator decided to completely crap out. I got an email from Kerry while I was at work, informing me that all of the items in our freezer were melting. Great fun. So, we went off to Sears and ordered a new one, which was delivered on Saturday morning. In the meantime, our "refrigerator" was two coolers in the office, and the "freezer" was a cooler outside. I'm glad we don't live in Arizona or something. Yay, none of our food spoiled!
My girls and I went out with our friends Megan and Kristian on Friday night. We had a good dinner and then went back to our house to play some Wii. The 4-player tennis extravaganzas get pretty wild with the four of us, and many a game was played. This all took place during our wonderful lack of a fridge, so all of our libations were kept cool via the back doorstep method. Once again, MN weather provides refreshment.
I went skiing with Ryan and Reuben on Saturday. It ruled. However, it was interesting on a lot of levels. First off, I brought both my snowboard and my skis, planning on doing a little of both. I was going to ski first. So I put my ski boots on and started walking toward the chalet. I heard a loud CRACK and looked down. I had completely cracked the plastic on not one but BOTH of my ski boots. So yeah, that idea was out. I switched into my snowboard boots, threw the skis back into the car, and took off.
Snowboarding proved to be more than I could handle on Saturday. I could ride just fine, don't get me wrong. But sitting down to buckle and unbuckle my back binding gets a little tiring for me and a LOT tiring for the skiers that are waiting for my snowboard-strapping ass. So I decided to rent some skis.
Ryan and I met Reuben at the bar. He ordered two pitchers of beer. After one glass I promptly got up to go and rent my skis, which surprised him because he thought that there would be three of us drinking this bounty of beer and I had left the two of them with basically a pitcher each. By the time I got back, the pitchers were empty. I knew then and there that the day was going to get a lot more exciting.
I hadn't been on skis since first purchasing a snowboard in 1996. It was just like riding a bike, though. My muscles had memory of what was going on, and it was nice to be back on two planks, even if only for the sake of being able to keep up with my friends and not having to buckle myself in. I had a great time. Ryan managed to bowl over a fence. It was amazing. I'll leave that story for him to tell. Needless to say, his "stop on a dime" powers may have been diminished by Amber Bock.
Sunday was relaxing, but I didn't really do anything worth mentioning. I had to study, which sucks. Alas, I have to go to my first Income Tax class tonight, and I'm not really geared up for excitement or anything. It's pretty boring stuff. We'll see if the professor can make it interesting.
I took the day off on Friday, and Kerry was off as well. We brought Gwen in to daycare in the morning (mua ha ha) and enjoyed a breakfast at a local greasy spoon. It was overwhelmingly delicious. The place we went to serves ridiculously large portions, so my omelet took up my entire plate. We gorged ourselves. Yum.
In the early afternoon on Friday we went to Southdale and took in a matinee of the Golden Compass. For those of you that haven't read the book, I'm gonna do my best to not post spoilers here. The movie would have been much better if it was longer, but I think the American public is getting sick of 3+ hour fantasy epics, so this one came in under 2 hours. The result was a kind of choppy telling of the tale, with a lot of changes and characters being merged and whatnot. If they release an extended edition DVD I'll buy it, but not as-is. Another gripe is that they cut the movie off well before the book ends. BOO I say! Either way it ends in a cliffhanger, I guess, so it doesn't much matter. Whatever. I was still happy to get to go to a movie with my wife. That experience has become rather rare.
Unfortunately, this weekend our refrigerator decided to completely crap out. I got an email from Kerry while I was at work, informing me that all of the items in our freezer were melting. Great fun. So, we went off to Sears and ordered a new one, which was delivered on Saturday morning. In the meantime, our "refrigerator" was two coolers in the office, and the "freezer" was a cooler outside. I'm glad we don't live in Arizona or something. Yay, none of our food spoiled!
My girls and I went out with our friends Megan and Kristian on Friday night. We had a good dinner and then went back to our house to play some Wii. The 4-player tennis extravaganzas get pretty wild with the four of us, and many a game was played. This all took place during our wonderful lack of a fridge, so all of our libations were kept cool via the back doorstep method. Once again, MN weather provides refreshment.
I went skiing with Ryan and Reuben on Saturday. It ruled. However, it was interesting on a lot of levels. First off, I brought both my snowboard and my skis, planning on doing a little of both. I was going to ski first. So I put my ski boots on and started walking toward the chalet. I heard a loud CRACK and looked down. I had completely cracked the plastic on not one but BOTH of my ski boots. So yeah, that idea was out. I switched into my snowboard boots, threw the skis back into the car, and took off.
Snowboarding proved to be more than I could handle on Saturday. I could ride just fine, don't get me wrong. But sitting down to buckle and unbuckle my back binding gets a little tiring for me and a LOT tiring for the skiers that are waiting for my snowboard-strapping ass. So I decided to rent some skis.
Ryan and I met Reuben at the bar. He ordered two pitchers of beer. After one glass I promptly got up to go and rent my skis, which surprised him because he thought that there would be three of us drinking this bounty of beer and I had left the two of them with basically a pitcher each. By the time I got back, the pitchers were empty. I knew then and there that the day was going to get a lot more exciting.
I hadn't been on skis since first purchasing a snowboard in 1996. It was just like riding a bike, though. My muscles had memory of what was going on, and it was nice to be back on two planks, even if only for the sake of being able to keep up with my friends and not having to buckle myself in. I had a great time. Ryan managed to bowl over a fence. It was amazing. I'll leave that story for him to tell. Needless to say, his "stop on a dime" powers may have been diminished by Amber Bock.
Sunday was relaxing, but I didn't really do anything worth mentioning. I had to study, which sucks. Alas, I have to go to my first Income Tax class tonight, and I'm not really geared up for excitement or anything. It's pretty boring stuff. We'll see if the professor can make it interesting.
Fatherhood, etc.
Gwen has been going nuts lately. She's been learning all sorts of new words, and walking all over the place, and doing little tricks that just add to her already unbelievable amount of cuteness. I know I'm biased, but it's true. She's really really cute.
The latest in her long line of words is "Ball". (I'll be honest, it comes out "Bow" or "Baa"). She's so proud of knowing what a ball is...she walks or crawls over to her ball, picks it up and holds it over her head, and yells "BAA!" with all of her might. It's so cute, and she's such a smart and precocious little girl. Another fun saying that we taught her over the holidays is "Ho Ho Ho!". She's still saying it, of course, because to her every day is worthy of "Ho Ho Ho". It's made for some pretty funny conversations, since we taught her to say it in response to us asking, "What does Santa say?"
Last night I did a little test.
"What does Santa say?"
"Ho Ho Ho!!!"
"GOOD! What does Mommy say?"
"Ho HO HO!!!!!"
"Hehe, yep. What does Daddy say?"
"Ho Ho Ho!!!"
Obviously there are a few kinks to work out in our routine, but she's still just a doll. I look at myself and can't believe that I'm the father of this beautiful kid. I mean, in my head, I'm still a kid. Look in my basement -- you'll find my Star Wars figures, old and new. I am by no means a grownup. Yet here I am, with this beautiful little child that loves me so blindly (and believe me, I return the thought). It's seriously wonderful. I'm rambly again.
The poor little girl has a cold, though. I had plans to be the savior of the entire World of Warcraft last night (or at least play for a few hours), but my designs were thwarted by a crying baby with a snotty nose and a wracking cough. I had to punk out on Lundo and Amy in order to attend to said crying baby, but (as always happens) she started sleeping soundly. I ended up going to bed at like 10:00. Heh.
Yesterday's posting spawned almost immediate email conversation, and suddenly my super secret metal band GHOLA (the worst-kept secret in the history of anything ever) is meeting tomorrow night, complete with none other than Chad at the helm of the Starship Drummerprize. (Ooh, quick! Someone get me a photoshop of the Enterprise with like...a cymbal for the saucer and some sticks for the engines or something!) I'm excited for some music playing. Hellz yeah.
I just opened my desk drawer and realized that I still have blow-pops from Halloween. Wow. So, I'm enjoying one as we speak. It's a delicious sour apple that will soon yield its bounty of sawdust flavored gum, and for that, I'm excited to the billionth power. Hooray for random confection finds.
The latest in her long line of words is "Ball". (I'll be honest, it comes out "Bow" or "Baa"). She's so proud of knowing what a ball is...she walks or crawls over to her ball, picks it up and holds it over her head, and yells "BAA!" with all of her might. It's so cute, and she's such a smart and precocious little girl. Another fun saying that we taught her over the holidays is "Ho Ho Ho!". She's still saying it, of course, because to her every day is worthy of "Ho Ho Ho". It's made for some pretty funny conversations, since we taught her to say it in response to us asking, "What does Santa say?"
Last night I did a little test.
"What does Santa say?"
"Ho Ho Ho!!!"
"GOOD! What does Mommy say?"
"Ho HO HO!!!!!"
"Hehe, yep. What does Daddy say?"
"Ho Ho Ho!!!"
Obviously there are a few kinks to work out in our routine, but she's still just a doll. I look at myself and can't believe that I'm the father of this beautiful kid. I mean, in my head, I'm still a kid. Look in my basement -- you'll find my Star Wars figures, old and new. I am by no means a grownup. Yet here I am, with this beautiful little child that loves me so blindly (and believe me, I return the thought). It's seriously wonderful. I'm rambly again.
The poor little girl has a cold, though. I had plans to be the savior of the entire World of Warcraft last night (or at least play for a few hours), but my designs were thwarted by a crying baby with a snotty nose and a wracking cough. I had to punk out on Lundo and Amy in order to attend to said crying baby, but (as always happens) she started sleeping soundly. I ended up going to bed at like 10:00. Heh.
Yesterday's posting spawned almost immediate email conversation, and suddenly my super secret metal band GHOLA (the worst-kept secret in the history of anything ever) is meeting tomorrow night, complete with none other than Chad at the helm of the Starship Drummerprize. (Ooh, quick! Someone get me a photoshop of the Enterprise with like...a cymbal for the saucer and some sticks for the engines or something!) I'm excited for some music playing. Hellz yeah.
I just opened my desk drawer and realized that I still have blow-pops from Halloween. Wow. So, I'm enjoying one as we speak. It's a delicious sour apple that will soon yield its bounty of sawdust flavored gum, and for that, I'm excited to the billionth power. Hooray for random confection finds.
Even Better.
ZZ Top's Tush just came on our radio. I imagine that this station will only be playing for a few more seconds, now.
Classic Rock
So lately my work's satellite radio system has been turned to Christmas music. I know that that's not exactly being completely inclusive on the whole holiday thing, but my work doesn't seem to care about making sure there's a good selection of Kwanzaa songs on the radio, so that's what we were stuck with. Not that I know any Kwanzaa carols. Are there any? Please excuse my ignorance. I digress. The Christmas music lasted well into last week, and got very very sickening. I'm happy that it changed today.
What makes me even happier is that it switched to classic rock, and that's actually palatable to me. Surprise, surprise. Of course, it really won't be long until one of my coworkers complains about the music to the powers that be. Yes indeed, we've been down this road before, and the huge contingent of middle-aged women in my office building does not have a soft spot (or any other kind of spot, for that matter) for classic rock. Let's step away from the spots of middle-aged women. They don't like listening to Steppenwolf. They will complain. Post haste.
Not that that's really my kind of music either, but it's a heck of a lot closer than either the incredibly stale Aaron Neville Christmas carols that have been playing or the Fergie Filth of yestermonth.
I'm trying (desperately) to get some friends together to go skiing this weekend. My lovely wife gave me a gift card to Afton Alps for Christmas, and it's burning a hole in my pocket. (It's even more down to the wire now, because I start classes on the 14th and have a stupid Saturday class this semester). The huge problem is that now all of my friends (and myself of course) have gotten old, and require Hall Passes to ditch family life and hang out with the boys. I'M SO OLD! Hopefully it all works out. Ryan confirmed, so I'm going skiing no matter what. It would be a bummer to go to Afton and not have Reuben there, though. He's always chomping at the bit to go skiing. WE'RE SO OLD!
Which brings me to music. The combined acts of being old and being in school have really put my band, Jabberwocky, on permanent hold. It's unfortunate, because I love the band and our music and our members. I brewed beer this weekend with two of the guys, Ryan and Chad, and we all expressed the desire to get back into it and play some music. All of us pretty much agreed that we don't ever want to get into the whole Midnight slot at the Fineline on a Tuesday thing anymore, though, so we were having a nice, healthy talk about possible different directions. Like playing nothing but improvisational blues, and seeing if we can force our way far enough into the "jazz" genre to play at a jazz club. Hah. Or playing some punk rock. That would rule.
There was also talk about playing with other people to see where that goes. That seems like breaking up with an old girlfriend, though, especially since the talk still included all three of us in the same band. Seems shady, but to justify this type of conversation, the other member might have a good deal of trouble playing any gigs or even practicing any more. He's a busy guy. We all are, of course, myself more than included. I want to jam in a basement. That would do me just fine. Gigs are cool and all. OK I'm rambling.
That's all for now. I could go on and on today, it seems, but I'd rather conserve a bit of my inner monologue for the rest of the week. Happy Monday.
What makes me even happier is that it switched to classic rock, and that's actually palatable to me. Surprise, surprise. Of course, it really won't be long until one of my coworkers complains about the music to the powers that be. Yes indeed, we've been down this road before, and the huge contingent of middle-aged women in my office building does not have a soft spot (or any other kind of spot, for that matter) for classic rock. Let's step away from the spots of middle-aged women. They don't like listening to Steppenwolf. They will complain. Post haste.
Not that that's really my kind of music either, but it's a heck of a lot closer than either the incredibly stale Aaron Neville Christmas carols that have been playing or the Fergie Filth of yestermonth.
I'm trying (desperately) to get some friends together to go skiing this weekend. My lovely wife gave me a gift card to Afton Alps for Christmas, and it's burning a hole in my pocket. (It's even more down to the wire now, because I start classes on the 14th and have a stupid Saturday class this semester). The huge problem is that now all of my friends (and myself of course) have gotten old, and require Hall Passes to ditch family life and hang out with the boys. I'M SO OLD! Hopefully it all works out. Ryan confirmed, so I'm going skiing no matter what. It would be a bummer to go to Afton and not have Reuben there, though. He's always chomping at the bit to go skiing. WE'RE SO OLD!
Which brings me to music. The combined acts of being old and being in school have really put my band, Jabberwocky, on permanent hold. It's unfortunate, because I love the band and our music and our members. I brewed beer this weekend with two of the guys, Ryan and Chad, and we all expressed the desire to get back into it and play some music. All of us pretty much agreed that we don't ever want to get into the whole Midnight slot at the Fineline on a Tuesday thing anymore, though, so we were having a nice, healthy talk about possible different directions. Like playing nothing but improvisational blues, and seeing if we can force our way far enough into the "jazz" genre to play at a jazz club. Hah. Or playing some punk rock. That would rule.
There was also talk about playing with other people to see where that goes. That seems like breaking up with an old girlfriend, though, especially since the talk still included all three of us in the same band. Seems shady, but to justify this type of conversation, the other member might have a good deal of trouble playing any gigs or even practicing any more. He's a busy guy. We all are, of course, myself more than included. I want to jam in a basement. That would do me just fine. Gigs are cool and all. OK I'm rambling.
That's all for now. I could go on and on today, it seems, but I'd rather conserve a bit of my inner monologue for the rest of the week. Happy Monday.
Stuffed with pork
Last night Kerry went out with some friends to a place called Harry's in downtown Minneapolis. I stayed home with Gwen, and being the lazy jerk that I am I had her pick me up a burger to go. It was delicious. However, the real joy was eating half of her leftover hamburger at lunch just about 1/2 hour ago. Her burger was the "Cowboy Burger", which was covered in caramelized onions and pepperjack cheese, and stuffed with shredded BBQ pork. My burger was delicious. Hers transcended mortal thought. I hereby declare that every food item should be stuffed with BBQ pork. It will make the world a better place. Really.
As you can see from last night's post, there is now documented evidence of my daughter's walking ability. Obviously she's still a bit shaky, but that's to be expected, as she JUST LEARNED that she's able to do this wonderful thing without the aid of hands. The second clip cracks me up, because the way Gwen tottered over to the camera makes it look like she hit the camera or was attacking it. Hee hee. It reminds me of Lundo in the good old ground video.
I'd embed it, but I don't really want to encourage viewing. Hee hee. I realize that's a long video, but there's a section where he runs up to the camera and punches it. That's some funny stuff right there. And embarrassing.
Woo for brewing beer tomorrow! I'm going to brew a Trappist-style ale. Then I'm going to stuff it with some BBQ pork.
As you can see from last night's post, there is now documented evidence of my daughter's walking ability. Obviously she's still a bit shaky, but that's to be expected, as she JUST LEARNED that she's able to do this wonderful thing without the aid of hands. The second clip cracks me up, because the way Gwen tottered over to the camera makes it look like she hit the camera or was attacking it. Hee hee. It reminds me of Lundo in the good old ground video.
I'd embed it, but I don't really want to encourage viewing. Hee hee. I realize that's a long video, but there's a section where he runs up to the camera and punches it. That's some funny stuff right there. And embarrassing.
Woo for brewing beer tomorrow! I'm going to brew a Trappist-style ale. Then I'm going to stuff it with some BBQ pork.
Happy 2008
Sweet, it's 2008. Now I'm going to screw up writing the date on a bunch of stuff. That will last until around April, I'm sure.
New Year's Eve was a freaking blast. Kerry and I hung out with 8-10 other rambling drunken fools. We had a hell of a time hanging out, playing games, and socializing. I think that I can safely say that a good time was had by all. Most if not all of my fears were unfounded as well, as the evening seemed to go off without a hitch. No TVs were harmed in the making of this evening.
The real big event of January, however, occurred last evening, when my daughter officially took her first few unaided walks. At first she would take 4 or 5 timid steps between Kerry and I, but then she suddenly took off across the living room and kitchen, and walked for a long time before realizing what was going on. She promptly fell at that point. We're so proud of our little girl. I got it on video, but failed in all attempts to get said video onto the intarwebb. Soon, I promise.
My wife surprised me yesterday by going out and getting her ears pierced. She's 31 years old, and I'm sure that she was the oldest person in the local Icing store (although the cutest by far, I have no doubt). Anyway, she has never had her ears pierced, and decided to get them done on a whim. I'm excited, because now I'll have something new to give her for Christmas and Anniversary presents.
I got my MRI results back today, and I'm fit as a fiddle. Life is good. Nothing further to report on that tip.
In fact, I have nothing further to report on any tip.
New Year's Eve was a freaking blast. Kerry and I hung out with 8-10 other rambling drunken fools. We had a hell of a time hanging out, playing games, and socializing. I think that I can safely say that a good time was had by all. Most if not all of my fears were unfounded as well, as the evening seemed to go off without a hitch. No TVs were harmed in the making of this evening.
The real big event of January, however, occurred last evening, when my daughter officially took her first few unaided walks. At first she would take 4 or 5 timid steps between Kerry and I, but then she suddenly took off across the living room and kitchen, and walked for a long time before realizing what was going on. She promptly fell at that point. We're so proud of our little girl. I got it on video, but failed in all attempts to get said video onto the intarwebb. Soon, I promise.
My wife surprised me yesterday by going out and getting her ears pierced. She's 31 years old, and I'm sure that she was the oldest person in the local Icing store (although the cutest by far, I have no doubt). Anyway, she has never had her ears pierced, and decided to get them done on a whim. I'm excited, because now I'll have something new to give her for Christmas and Anniversary presents.
I got my MRI results back today, and I'm fit as a fiddle. Life is good. Nothing further to report on that tip.
In fact, I have nothing further to report on any tip.
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