post topic

I think I might be too tired to come up with a post today. I have started a couple of idea threads only to watch them slowly dissolve into incoherent babble.

1. I started a geo-political post about the Georgia/Russia conflict in South Essetia… that one fell apart due to lack of knowledge and a certain level of apathy towards major land conflicts in Eurasia.
2. I started a post about the differences between Q and Little Man, but it came off sounding like I was comparing one to the other unfavorably, when, in fact, it was meant merely to illustrate the inherent differences between the 2 kids. They are different kids, thus giving credence to the nature side of the nature/nurture argument.
3. I started a post about the annoying clicka clicka… clicka associated with someone unable to touch type (namely me). I was going to deftly bang out an op-ed piece about my odd ability to hunt, peck and curse, but I realized that it would take a better typing ability than I seem to possess.
4. I started a post about the Olympics and how Wifey and I are sitting up way too late at night watching athletes push themselves past their levels of endurance, but I got tired of the idea half way through.
5. I started a post about how this milder weather seems to have activated some allergies that have up till now remained dormant for the year. Booring
6. I started a post detailing the trials and tribulations of re-awakening old skills and de-rusting rusty skills, but it felt too self-congratulatory and too self absorbed for my liking so I scrapped it as well.
7. I started a post about my lack of sleep, but it seemed a bit whiney.
8. I started w a post about how tired I was, but again, it seemd to travel very quickly into the whiney category.
9. I thought about writing a post about how itchy my head is, but… ewww.

Each of these posts started out with a mediocre to strong intro paragraph and then died off very quickly without adequate support. I guess I will metapost then.

To recap:
Man, am I tired
Not sure what is on tap for Digital Thursday tomorrow
I might make it a blog holiday
Cause I am lazy
I will try to finish distressing Doom’s armor
I am distressing
Listening to Still Take you Home by the Arctic Monkeys

Facebook is only for Online

Computer social networking is really an interesting animal. So, on Facebook, I have created the most bare bones profile I could imagine whilst still letting people know of my existence. It has been an interesting process. I have found out (much to my 5 year rule’s chagrin) that there are a few people with whom I had lost contact that were not actually deceased. Go them! It is nice to know that Dan is doing well in the Toledo area, and who isn’t surprised that John is living in Cincinnati?

Anyhoo… interesting things have happened since I have dipped my toes in the swirling miasma of “social networking.” The most interesting of which happened yesterday, but more on that later. Let’s get some set-up and back story.

Because I am all that and a bag of chips I get “friend” requests all the time. If it is from someone I actually know, I will accept the friend request regardless of personal leanings for or against the person. Every once and a while I get a friend request that seems to be dubious at best. I don’t know any single 20 year old “women” from Russia who are “Looking for a relationship.” You, Svetlana? You get your friend request denied.

I guess in many ways I am too old for the whole Facebook process. I don’t write on anyone’s “wall.” I don’t understand nor care what the hell “poking” is. I have not added any widgets or other applications to my account. I don’t feel it necessary to compare myself to Courtney Love. Really, I only made an account because somehow some people were being referred to this here bloggarooney via a Facebook link, and I wanted to find out why and how.

Really, for me, a friend request from someone I know and recognize is like acknowledging someone as being. “Yes, I recognize your existence” is basically what I am saying. Honestly, that is the only reason I have more than 5 friends listed on my Facebook account. Befriending someone you know/knew in real life on Facebook is harmless, but it can lead to interesting situations.

This weekend we decided to go to the zoo. The weather was insanely beautiful and everyone was in pretty good spirits. We load up the car and head to the zoo. The zoo was amazing. Because the weather was so mild, animals that typically don’t do anything were up and about, and the animals that there is usually no sign of there existence were at least sleeping within view. The first place we went was to watch the zoo train cross the tracks. Little Man was having no part of riding the train, but he did want us to sit on as bench and wait for the train to lower the gates and such.

Once done with the train, he wanted to go see the penguins. So off across the zoo the family traveled. Here is where the interesting Facebook interaction thing takes place. At the penguin exhibit, I see one of the people that is listed as a “friend” within my Facebook account. Now, this is a person that I have not spoken to since before Little Man was born, and the only “contact” I have had with them is via the third party notification system employed by Facebook itself, but nonetheless in cyber land this person is listed as a “friend.”

I am confident in this person’s identity and I am fairly certain that I was recognized as well. No acknowledgement was made by either of us other than me leaning over toward Wifey and asking “Isn’t that so-and-so?” and her replying “I don’t know.” So I ask you Internet folk especially those who are all Facebooked up, what is the point of having someone listed as your friend, if both people don’t want to talk to each other? I mean what’s the freaking point of social networking if the members of the network don’t want to be social.


To recap:
This didn’t end up being all that interesting
I apologize
It was a better idea before I started writing it
In that way, I completely ruined it
Is there a category on Facebook for your social network for “wishes no ill will toward”
I think “Friend” is pretty presumptuous
Without it being so hot the penguin house was not sooo difficult to be around olfactory-wise
Been working on a preferred alignment alternative for a highway job in Utica, Indiana
I lead a very exciting life
No really
I love me some Olympics
Not as much as Wifey loves the Olympics
I am not sure that Olympians love the Olympics as much as Wifey loves the Olympics
Ummm… Olympics, Olympics, Olympics, Olympics, Olympics, Olympics
Listening to the guy in the Cube next door celebrating the first Indian individual gold medal

3 Things

Thing the first: we had the first double check up for the kids today. Both Little Man and Q are hale hearty and whole. I imagine, since there are a few of you who actually follow our familial escapades via this blog, you most likely would like vital statistics, well here they are.

Q:

Age: 2 months and some change
Length: 21.5 inches (54.61 cm)
Weight: 8 lbs 15 (4.05 kg or .638 stone)
oz
She is in the 25th percentile for length and 10th percentile for
weight.

She is healthy and the doc is not worried about her size in the least. He did say that if she starts slipping down the percentiles that is when we should start to worry, but as it is, she is just little.

Little Man:

Age: 5 years and some change
Height: 44 inches (111.8 cm)
Weight: 42 lbs (19.05 kg or 3 stone)
He is in
the 75th percentile for height and 60th percentile for weight

He is doing well, and the doc was surprised at how well he was looking concerning how severe his allergies and asthma are. We think he looks great as well

Thing the second: Have you ever sent a work related email to someone who responded in such a cryptic manner that it makes you question your own sanity. The only way to make sure that you are the sane one in the exchange is to forward the nonsensical response to as many coworkers as you can while still being certain your incredulity of their cryptic bat-shit crazy response will not make it back to the odd responder?

Uh… me either. But if that had ever happened to me lets just say the response was as understandable as Beep monolith gargantuan orangutan blisters in heat watch fire burn

Thing the third: This is what I need to regularly shove into my week (in no particular order): Cooking, cleaning, drawing, work, exercise, World of Warcraft, sleep, quality time with Little Man, quality time with Q, and quality time with Wifey. How the hell am I supposed to get all that done? No, seriously?


To recap:
Baa weep grahna weep ninny bong
10 points to whomever understands that reference
But I think you might lose points because of dorkiness
Yeah, most definitely losing points because of dorkiness
I mean we are talking 1986 dorkiness here
Is this thing online yet?
My desk is in shambles
Sleep was better last night
Pretty weak recap
Listening to War (hooh, Good Gawd, Y'all) by Edwin Starr

Dream a Little Dream for Me

It turns out that don’t have the ability to consciously dream. I have a lack in ability when it comes to the word “aspire.” Oddly, I am okay with my deficiency associated with the word “ass-spire.” Who wants a narrow tower of ass?

Anyway… I have come to this conclusion because Wifey keeps asking me what my dreams and goals are. I am verily happy with what I have, so my response is usually, “get back in the kitchen, Papa is still hungry.” We laugh and laugh and laugh, and then she hits me. Anywhoo… Most of my dreams and goals have been met. What does one do when they have climbed their mountain and plumbed the depths of their ocean? Well, most people decide to find a bigger mountain or a deeper ocean. Me? I stagnate and lose the ability to strive. An ability that will take lots of time to re-acquire and re-tool… a tool that needs to be honed again… a metaphor that needs to be reworked like a poorly thrown pot on a wheel (irony, I gets it).

The problem with reacquainting oneself with this lost skill of yore is that once the absence of skill is noticed, it becomes pervasive to one’s consciousness. I wonder what I would like for lunch today… I wouldn’t have to wonder if I knew how to frikken dream. Which shirt should I wear today, there are 3 clean ones? Maybe if I knew how to aspire to something greater there would be 5 clean shirts… The lack of wanted future permeates everything, but still doesn’t resolve itself.

How does one turn on the dream-makers after they have been shut off for so long? You cannot go back all the way to the flights of fancy that enveloped youth. I have met and married the woman of my dreams. We are in a house that we are paying for from our own earnings. We have fornicated and procreated (in that order, thank you very much). We have 2 of the loveliest children ever. The only things I don’t have from my youthful dreams are a flying car, super powers, and a light saber. Those really don’t apply to a more reality based dreams and ambitions. Don’t get me wrong, I would still love a flying car, super-powers and a black light light saber (I would be the only Jedi at the rave), but those are hardly attainable on my own merit.

The thing is, I cannot rely on dreams from my youth as my aspirations for today and I have not been constantly amending my dreams to reflect what I have already attained. Anyone have any insight into how to re-start the dreaming process?

To recap:
The weekend was a nice one
I got some arch supports for my feet
Cause I guess I am like 80 or something
Hopefully this will help the feet to not hurt all the time
The lack of hurting should allow me to exercise without wincing
That would be nice
I need to exercise for healthful reasons
And vainful reasons
Mostly healthful though
Mostly
My feet are on fire right now though
Listening to Pop Music by Devo

3 Things

Three things to chat about today:

Thing the First: This weekend was a blast. Little Man was out of his mind excited on Friday when the family party happened and the first round of gifts were dolled out. He went out of his Little Man mind when it was time for his kid-attended (young children, not baby goats) birthday party. That kind of enthusiasm and zest for life is nothing if not infectious.

Unfortunately for me, this enthusiasm by proxy has hit the wall called “work.” My blue skies have turned grey, and my bright-eyed wonder and awe at this journey we call “life” has given way to the dull monotony of a bleak existence in a world of grey fabric clad cubes.

Thing the Second: My brother, nephew, and mom will be in town this week. It seems that the younger nephew will be doing something at the State Fair (which is about 2 miles away the hoose) and they will be there to cheer him on. This means that 1, my brother is safely back stateside from his tour in Iraq, and that 2, I really need to clean the house up tonight. Not to mention that I will be interacting with my mom much sooner than I wanted to after last visit. Oh, well. You can’t choose family, and Fate hates me.

Thing the Third: 3 weeks ago the Kidney Foundation called to see if we had any donations (not kidneys, although this would be a much more interesting story if that were the case) for their re-sale shop. We can always find some clothes to send there way, so we said, “Yes.” 2 weeks ago we went through all of Little Man’s clothes and separated the keepsakes from the “mere clothing.” Yesterday we got a reminder call from the Kidney Foundation about placing our donations on the porch (not our kidneys) for pick up this morning starting at 8 a.m. Last night Wifey and I talked about getting the bags of clothes on the porch.

This morning as I was showering ("Cleanliness is next to godliness", I always say) Wifey yells up to me at 8:38 a.m. that we forgot to put the Kidney Foundation donations (not our kidneys) on the porch. This would not be such a bad thing except that the last time the Kidney Foundation was looking for donations (not kidneys) we completely spaced out on putting them on the porch as well. By 8:43 a.m. the seven bags were on the porch and clearly labeled.

There were seven bags of clothes on my porch this morning. Now they are gone.


To recap:
It is time for me to start making time to exercise
And digitally paint
And draw more
Wait, I am now running out of time
A new TRON in 2010?
But why are they calling it TR2N?
Oh, God, if you are listening, please to make the new TRON not ruin the old TRON
Not like what you did with Highlander 2, Highlander 3, Highlander 4, and Highlander 5
Who am I kidding? It’s gonna suck
And not suck in that good way either
They call me the bus, cause I am taking you to school
20 Questions Tuesday: 101 – Intro to 20 Questions tomorrow
Listening to Super Rad by the Aquabats!

Uh... Um... the point is...

Last night I went to a movie with some people from work. I went to see Batman The Dark Knight and was very pleased with the cinematic experience. In fact, this is the first movie I have been to in a theater for a VERY long time. No, I have not seen Iron Man or The Incredible Hulk. I haven’t even seen 300, and I consider myself a fan of the whole comic book genre. Granted I understand that 300 was not that great other than the visuals but that is not what this post is about. I got home from the movie at around 9:50 pm, unfortunately after all of Little Man’s nightly routine were accomplished by the lone Wifey.

Upon entering the house I went up and kissed Little Man, who had been waiting up for me, good night. He seemed to be no worse for wear, but awake nonetheless. I kissed him goodnight and within 10 minutes he was drifting sweetly into slumberland. When downstairs I relieved Wifey of her Q-ish “burden” so she could get some emailing accomplished. We were both very happy with this arrangement. I got to interact with a surprisingly conscious Q and Wifey got to tie up some loose ends both professionally and personally via the amazing tool we call e-mail.

Q is not happy with lack of propagation when being cared for by anyone other than Mama. When she is with Mama, sometimes she will allow Mama to just sit and hold her on her lap. I define “sometimes” as “extremely rarely” in this instance, but of the people that Q actually allows to hold her, Mama is the only one I know of that is allowed to remain motionless for any significant amount of time, but that is not what this post is about. So I am roaming all over the downstairs portion of the house with Q neatly and happily in my arms. She is happy with me roving and pacing, so I rove and pace. After about an hour of movement, I ask Wifey how the emails are going… silence. I wander aimlessly about the first floor of the house a bit more with this precious bundle in my arms, and ask again, “Hey, How’s the email going?” The most I receive for this inquiry is a grunt and a sigh.

Now, I feel it necessary in the sense of full disclosure that I mention that this behavior seems more like the behavior of me at the computer than Wifey. You see, I get lost in the cyber-world waaay easier than Wifey. Books are her form of distraction, whereas icons and radiating pixels are more my speed. Anywho… Wifey is staring blankly at her 1 line response to a 1 line email.

I am not sure if my response is enthusiastic enough, but I don’t want to seem overbearing or over-friendly. The issue with this is that I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but my schedule is a bit up in the air right now, and I don’t know which one of these people I should CC on this email since it is just a scheduling response….

Uhhh….

I mean, can I really be too enthusiastic? It is only a one-line email response, that should be enough, shouldn’t it?

Ummm… What’s it for?

A playdate for Little Man


The point is… Wifey needs some sleep.

To recap:
Little Man’s 5th birthday is Friday
It can’t have been 5 years already
I won’t believe it
Q is 7 weeks old today
Time flies when you parent
Actual quote from Little Man today, “Look out World! Here I come”
After which he promptly ate a turkey sandwich
The funny thing about gnomes is their gnomishness
Check out Wifey’s new template
Listening to Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil off their release, Diesel and Dust

Get out of my head

You ever have one of those conversations about conversations where someone mentions that someone else mentioned a song that they can’t get out of their head and all the sudden you have a song playing on repeat in your head that wasn’t even the song they were referring to? Yeah, well that just happened.

So my remaining monkey came back from lunch and mentioned that he “Can’t get a song out of his head” because of a conversation he had at lunch about some dance song. The second he said the phrase “Can’t get a song out of his head” I was instantly listening to Kylie Minogue serenade me because she has the same affliction, only with an un-named “you” and, of course, it is her head and not mine. The fact that the “you” in question is not me and the “my” in question is, in fact, Kylie’s “my” did not seem to dissipate the recurrence of the song in my head in the least. In fact, that frame of questioning concerning the song seemed only to embed it more within my brain’s meager ability to function.

Typically I can save myself from this kind of affliction by reciting 3 times Mary Had a Little Lamb as if Casey Kasim were reading a dedication letter in my head, but this time Casey seemed to match his cadence with the intoxicating dance rhythms. It was difficult, but he seemed to match “I can’t get chu outta my head” with “Mary had a li-ih-ih-i-tle lamb,” which was much preferable to shortening “little” to a mere 4 syllable word and adding a grunt on the end of the phrase. That would have just been wrong. I really didn’t want to think of Casey Kasim grunting for any reason.

The reason that the "Mary/Lamb Method" is my preferred method deals with the fact that Mary Had a Little Lamb will leave my conscious and subconscious brain alone after it has been used to reset the continuous song filter in my head to the “off”. It is usually fool proof, but when it does not work I have a different, more detrimental to my mental health, method of making the offending song stop. This method makes the offending song go away and be replaced with something I have come to accept as the baseline of my brain function.

You know when someone says, “Clear your mind of all thought.” Whether it is for meditative purposes or for word associative reasons, my “Blank State” is the Police’s De Do Do Do De Da Da Da from Zenyatta Mondatta. I imagine if I needed to I could push those thoughts aside to “truly” clear my mind, but really, come on, that is clearer of thought than most people and I am not striving to be perfect with word association, sheesh! Anyway… it was time to call out the big guns. I cued up my Police sorbet on the mp3 player and waited for the sweet oblivion of my Blank State.

No more Minogue… and it only took about an hour of Sting’s nonsensical monosyllabic drivel to stop rattling around my skull.

To recap:
The remaining monkey’s song in question was ATC’s It Goes around the World

Like, Scoob, Mary had a Little Lamb
A rittle ram?
A little Lamb
Roose freece ras rite as snow?

Entertrainment Junction was a great trip for Little Man
Q is doing well as well
She really likes the whole bath-time thing
Bath-time is one of the few rituals that makes her smile
Little Man is motivated by tangible rewards
His behavior is remarkably better when the reward of root-beer is offered
Listening to Kylie Minogue’s Can’t Get You Out of My Head off of her release Fever
… but only in my head

Feeble Attempt

The ability to create an effective metaphor is a keen ability to possess when writing a blog. I wish I could claim metaphors such as “like trying to tie your shoes with sticks and bubble gum” Or “as useless as a fat kangaroo in a wet sand box.” The ability to create an effective metaphor seems to erode as sleep deprivation increases. In fact, as sleep deprivation increases, ability to generate a meaningful and interesting topic seems to go out the window as well. Basically, as sleep deprivation increases, most things that take thought seem to do not good stuff… and things. But this post is not about sleep deprivation. This post is all about… ummm… other stuff… other very important stuff.

I am tired and my head hurts. No more post for today.

(Look, it’s Fluffy, the Headache Pine Marten!)

You go away, Fluffy. You go away right now.

To Recap:
Q is preferring Wifey something fierce right now
Much to everyone else’s consternation
I am all about the new software learning
I am currently watching Google SketchUp tutorials that are nicely categorized on YouTube
I have been watching approximately 3 hrs of tutorials
Whilst informative and interesting (to a point) I am getting a bit tired of watching tutorials
You would be tired as well
This incessant droning on by the online tutor is also getting in the way of holding on to and stringing together coherent thoughts
Especially with a certain amount of lack of sleep
A WiP update on the Doom pic tomorrow
I hope there is a discernable difference between what I have done so far
Listening to someone drone on about edges, faces, selections, and objects

Recap

Just a recap today. No post to speak of

To recap:
Little Man can read the word “off”
We are golden if we can just get him to spell F-U-C… oh, you get the idea
The problem with hippos is…
Not their over aggressive nature
Not their poor eyesight
No, Princess Leia, not their easily recognizable foul stench
Not even their ability to defecate at Will
Poor poor poo covered Will
It is their monumental sense of entitlement
You aren’t all that and a bag of chips, Hippo
Uppity hippos and their “holier than thou-ness”
One would think that more sleep over the weekend would help
One would be incorrect
MORE sleep just reminds the body of what it has not been getting regularly
I have 59 icons on my work computer’s desktop
I think I need to clean that up a bit
A little spring cleaning and now I am at 17 icons
Turns out that Little Man is well motivated by greed
We made an accomplishment chart for him
Now all he seems to be doing is accomplishing
Q is doing well… um... as well?
Sometimes me no wordify good
I just ate a boatload of paella
Oddly that is whatI had for dinner last night
That is one of the issues of re-heating food at work
You end up having very similar (if not the same) meals in rapid succession
I am hungry again already
I am ashamed that I started this recap before lunch and will not be posting it until 2 pm-ish
20 Questions Tuesday will be rather interesting tomorrow
Oddly, I will have very little to do with it
So tune in tomorrow
Honestly, this is a bit pitiful
I have no topic for today
Wifey has all-topic-ed up tomorrow’s 20 Questions Tuesday
I am showing the movement I have made on the pic for Digital Thursday
Anyone want to tell me what to write about for Wednesday?
Listening to Wake Up by Arcade Fire off of Funeral

Tangential

The problem with yetis other than their remoteness and un-kindness towards strangers is that they smell like a wet goat on crack. I am not sure why the goat is necessarily on crack, except that crack is a problem across societal, socio-economic, racial, and species boundaries (is there an adjective for speciesal?). Crack should get worried about meth though. Meth is on the rise and does not require costly Columbian imports for its creation. Let’s be clear, being illicit drug independent is important in this day and age of high fuel costs. It is not as important as alternative fuel sources, but it is pretty important nonetheless. Go green, Go meth. I should work in advertising. I mean it. Slogans like “Go Green, Go Meth” don’t come along every day. Even addicts want to help the environment.

In truth I think we all want to help the environment. I don’t know of one single person out there who is hoping and praying to befoul the environment. Well, there is one… I am looking at you, Chad! That being said, there are some people who don’t want to actively change their lifestyles for the greater good of the environment. Some of which are the anti-environmental cocaine smugglers. Whether that coke is made into crack or left to be sold as pure blow doesn’t matter, what matters is that an incredible amount of diesel and airplane fuel went into the production of that illicit material. Frankly, that excess is just irresponsible. Not irresponsible like a yeti, but what is really? And that is what this post is supposed to be about. It is supposed to be about how stupid and smelly yetis are, not about how environmentally irresponsible the drug trade is.

So back to the matter at hand: Yetis are stupid and smelly creatures with big noses due to their big fingers and bad posture. I am not sure what bad poster has to do with their big noses, but that is irrelevant. Not as irrelevant as Chad and his anti-environmental ways(Ooooooh, Burn!) but irrelevant nonetheless.

So, there you have it. Yetis are big, dumb, smelly creatures… and Chad is a anti-environmental jerk.

To recap:
I have a headache
Well, Hello Fluffy
It indeed has been a long time… ummm… indeed
I have started working on tomorrow’s Digital Thursday stuff
It will be a “Work-in-Progress”
A WiP to use the lingo
I am not sure whose lingo, but it is lingo, damnit!
Listening to Loser by 3 Doors Down off of The Better Life

Three Things

Three things came to mind today whilst attempting to find a stand alone topic for today’s post.

Thing the First:

While cost effective and more healthy, the problem with bringing one’s lunch to work is that there is no longer a potential of getting significantly the heck out of the building until the day is done. Granted the rice and pork loin meal I had today was markedly better for me than, say, a Big Mac, I ate at my desk looking at the same mess and even working a bit through lunch. What up wit dat?

Thing the Second:

There are things not to say to your youngest son, even if he is grown with 2 kids of his own. One of those things is “I always wanted a really frilly girl, but God new I would be disappointed when my girl turned out to be not frilly, so he gave me 2 boys instead.”

Number 1: I am not completely sure what exactly that means
Number 2: I am not even going to get into Number 2 here. This is the wrong forum and I don’t write about that stuff here.

Thing the Third:

USA’s Burn Notice is a fun show, but honestly, I would watch anything on TV with Bruce Campbell in it.

To recap:
I need to focus more on things that I find fulfilling and enjoyable
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions Tuesday will be about Family
I need a goodly amount of sleep
I also need to pay bills and do the checkbook
I would like to get something going for Digital Thursday soon as well
I am hungry already
Looks like some more chips from the vending machines
Mmmmm chips
Let's go Crew!
I have finally brought my iPod dock back to work
I have been listening to everything on that poor electronic device
Cream and Bastards Rise by Harvey Danger
Super Rad by the Aquabats!
Don’t Make Me a Target by Spoon
Chaos by Mute Math
Insane in the Brain by Cypress Hill

Underwear after tights, Superman

Whew… ever felt like a shower and 8 hours of un-interupted sleep could turn you into a bona fide tight wearing potentially cape sporting super hero? Well, that feeling is due to your lack of hygiene and no sleep.

Soap it up you tired fucker.

To recap:
Parental visits have been better
This one has been… interesting
I think my lack of sleep (but amazing hygiene) is limiting my cognition
The other thing limiting my cognition is my brain
Not my Brian, he makes me think about things like super-colliders
Also not my bran, that just makes me poo regularly
Not like peppers, those just clean my system out
Anyone still reading this?
You brave brave souls

One if by land, two if by sea

Well, I live in Central Ohio, so it is the solitary lamp in the bell tower. Nothing attacks C-bus by sea!

That’s right the parents are making the trip to see Q, and Chez SRH is getting ready for the invasion. Tonight Wifey and I will fortify our positions and get ready for the inevitable parental encroachment.

Things on the Have to Get Done Before the Parents Get Here To Do List:

• Drill into Little Man not to say who his least favorite grandparents are


• Finish Q’s room, even though it will not be used for a while longer


• Put away all bank statements and/or credit card bills


• Clean bathrooms


• Remind Q that she can be held by those other than her mama


• Grovel at the feet of Wifey since I will be at work during most of the visit

This visit already seems like it will be a rough one. For some reason the relatively appropriate parental reactions of 3 months ago seem long forgotten. I am not sure why the craptastic switch was flipped, but that seems to be the case. It is going to be a rough one. They will not be here until tomorrow evening, but that is soon enough.

Luckily they will also be traveling up to visit my grandma in Kent, Ohio, so for at least a day or two we will have a break.

On another note, the dreaded ceiling fan is now all together and working. All this took was 3 calls to the fan etch support people, someone to re-anchor a junction box in the ceiling and a follow-up trip to the store to switch out a bad remote receiver. New receiver, a bit of wiring, and a goodly bit of fan to ceiling wrestling later and viola we have a new ceiling fan in the living room. It only took 2 weeks.

2 weeks for a frikkin ceiling fan!

To recap:
Did a shit-ton of cleaning this weekend
By tomorrow evening Casa Del SRH shall again be presentable
Currently the house is in a bit of disarray
That is the way of the house with a new baby
Don’t get me wrong,
We aren’t making the place spotless
We are just making seem like we don’t live like animals
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions will be about the 4th of July
Ooooh exciting

One

One would think there would be a veritable plethora (One also knows that one cannot merely have a “plethora.” One realizes that one must have a “veritable plethora.” One could very well be very wise in these ways.) of stories and anecdotes to draw from for the creation of a witty post. One would be incorrect on this matter, regardless of one’s prowess in parsing together the phrase “veritable plethora.” As it turns out there is not much currently worthy of remark with which to draw. One could bore others senseless with benign tales of random nothingness, but one really should not.

Currently, one’s nose could be itching, but since one is potentially at work and might be surrounded by a court of one’s peers, one should deny oneself the pleasure of scratching one’s nose from the inside, lest one could be accused of attempting to harvest something from one’s leftmost nostril. One might, however, rub one’s leftmost nostril vigorously much to no avail.

One might also note that it is nigh socially unacceptable to shed one’s left shoe to scratch betwixt the 3rd and 4th toes, no matter the fervency with which that tender area itches. This social moray is even in place whence dealing with stockinged feet. It is not as if one has shed footwear and stocking to scratch rabidly between said toes with wild abandon. One would really be merely attempting to relieve the unwanted grievance with the most decorum one could afford and still receive treatment for one’s malady of agitation.

One might also be aware that the work peers also frown upon the usage of the third person impersonal whence referring to an individual within a social collective. One might note that it is akin to referring to oneself in the third person by name. SRH knows this social moray all to well. SRH is very aware of this, yet one might note SRH’s willingness to askew morays by scratching SRH’s left nostril from the inside and then scratching between SRH’s 3rd and 4th toes on SRH’s left foot whilst not sporting his shoe.

To recap:
Allergies tend to make me itchy
I have no idea what I am going to whip up for Digital Thursday
I imagine it will be extremely well thought out though
Still haven’t brought in my iPod dock
So I am still not listening to anything but the working machinations of my diligent co-workers
I am thirsty
And tired

Work again, work again, jiggity jig

Well, I am back at work today. There will be more on this tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow’s 20 Questions Tuesday will be dedicated to going back to work. More than can be said for me.

Q is a very cute baby. I know, I know, I am horrendously biased, but Wifey and I continue to get unsolicited compliments about how cute our newborn baby girl is. We got similar unsolicitations with Little Man as well. We are horrendously biased there as well, but that is immaterial.

Anyhoo… Wifey and I started noticing something when Q was “concentrating” or grimacing in her sleep. Q looks just like Michael Chiklis. Compare and contrast.

Michael Chiklis

Q

Who would have thought? Chiklis is quite the cute baby girl

To recap:
I am tired
Punchy kind of tired
Not listening to anything
I have 239 emails to wade through
Yet, no voice mails
Cheers

Fans do not help in Hell

Today I spent most of the day attempting to install a ceiling fan. In the end it did not go well.

The ceiling fan in question has a remote control instead of pull chords. I am not typically an old fusty pants about new-fangled technology, but I tend to lean towards the elegant simplicity of pull chords for ceiling fans. That way the internal and external wiring is much simpler and the fan has a rhythmic sound as the pull chords bounce off the light fixture. It is a nice soothing sound.

I see where the usefulness of a remote may be helpful to those of us in the household who do not happen to be over 6 ft tall. The usefulness is immediate and apparent. In that way I am no dullard. Plus, I have seen the lack of utility in action with the up-stairs ceiling fans and the inability of the Lilliputian members of the family to control them. It is true, in the house, I am a Wind God! For I have control over the speed of the breeze!

Anyhoo… I was able to wire up the remote receiver and the fan to the ceiling, get everything mounted, and victory was mine! The ceiling fan was operational. The remote worked and all was happy, except that we did not have the correct light bulbs for the new fan.

I went to Target for said light-bulbs. When I returned home and triumphantly screwed in the light bulbs to witness my success, to my consternation, nothing happened. I could hear clicking from the remote receiver illustrating that the fan was ready to operate, but no spinny wind making and no shiny light emitting.

I disassembled the fan and found one of the wires had broken at the point where it had been stripped for the wire nut. No biggy. Re-strip the wire, re-wire nut, re-mount, and the light worked like a champ!... but the fan was still lacking a certain fan-i-ness since it would not spin and create sweet sweet breezes for my furrowed brow. I re-disassembled and re-checked the wiring. Lo and behold, another wire was not connected. Strip, wire nut and re-mount. No problemo

Okay, one problem. The mounting fixture decided to strip itself out of the swanky 1980’s junction box. Whaaaaaa?!? The fan is not going to work when it is not attached to the ceiling, by more than wires and wire nuts. Now this full day project has just gone out of my reach. I have done junction box kind of work before. I have not done it with old decrepit wiring. Looks like I will need to bring in outside help for a stupid ceiling fan.

To recap:
Stupid freaking ceiling fan
If I can put together what I want to tomorrow’s Digital Thursday will rock
I am hungry
Little Man was grumpy today
So was I
I am surviving off of caffeine
Wifey is amazing
There is waaay too much foliage growing in the gutters of our carport
Yet, I feel no need to remedy that
Listening to The Beast and the Dragon, Adored by Spoon from Gimme Fiction
Thanks to Dr B Dawg for introducing me to Spoon
Little Man is watching Backyardigans right now

Difficulty

It is very difficult to smash a spider with a newborn baby in your arms. Let’s just say that it is a difficult position to be in. Can we all at least agree on that?

I mean, your agility is more than cut in half. Newborn babies have rather floppy heads and little tiny necks that cannot support the massive weight of their own noggin. That lack of nogginal support means that unless you have the neck of said newborn supported, the head will bob and swing around like a wrecking ball. All your spider killing instincts honed over years of dispatching arachnids have to be reined in. You cannot leap into the air and send a final blow to a spider using a papered palm slap and some tarantella foot work. Baby’s head would be bouncing around like a rubber ball in a pogo stick factory… (admittedly that is a pretty weak analogy).

Further compounding this decreased agility is the fact that you should not attempt to kill the spider WITH the newborn baby in your hands. A newborn baby is not a reliable weapon. I am going to repeat this to help it set in, this time in all caps, ‘cause it’s ‘portant. A NEWBORN BABY IS NOT A RELIABLE WEAPON. I feel that a list is the best way to demonstrate all the weaknesses associated with newborns as weapon.

• Aforementioned weak neck with heavy noggin
• Soft spot on skull
• Poor hand-eye coordination
• Lack of battle cry
• No teeth
• Propensity to sleep
• 6 to 9 pounds of whoop-ass is not that impressive (unless it is concentrated in thrown cat form)

See? Newborns just are not the killing machines you are looking for. A rolled up piece of paper would do better.

To recap:
Wifey, Q, and Little Man are all doing well
I am not as sleep deprived as I would have thought
But maybe that is a sign of sleep deprivation
Her 1 week check up was stellar
She is gaining weight like a champ
A champ that has stopped fighting
And is eating like he was still training
By “She” I mean Q, not Wifey
Can I get a “Welcome back” from the crowd?
20 Questions Tuesday triumphantly returns tomorrow

Induction

So the baby gods have all weighed in and it has been determined that tomorrow evening Wifey will be receiving liquid hell via an I.V. in the form of pitocin. Therefore the idea is that the baby girl referred to colloquially as “the Duchess” shall grace us with her presence hopefully late Tuesday evening or Wednesday. Wifey will rip someone’s intestines out from their nose if it goes beyond Wednesday. One cannot endure the Hell on Earth that is pitocin for more that long without some sacrifices.

Anyway… This has meant that a boat load of cleaning has been going on in Casa Del SRH. So far we have been working our way from the new kitchen into towards the stairway. It is a clockwise rotation that has left us with only 3 rooms left to be cleaned and a few sundry tasks to be accomplished. I am positive that if Wifey were to be induced on Friday we would be completely finished with said tasks, Alas Tuesday is 3 days removed from Friday and therefore a much curtailed list of “To Do” items has been created. The things that have been removed primarily are associated with my level of hygiene.

Tomorrow I will snap some pictures of the new addition and remodel so we can look at the befores and afters associated with this partial house remodel. Maybe that will happen next week. Maybe not. Many things are up in the air. Deal with it.

To recap:
Man, I gots to peeee
Not like Wifey though
She has to pee all the time
The Duchess is fond of bouncing her head on mama’s bladder
Wifey is fond of washing her dry, cracked hands after peeing
Went to a park this weekend and let Little Man ride his bike
He had a blast
Listening to the clock ticking as moments become second to become minutes to become hours
Reminding me of how much time I am not making things ready at home

nada

I have absolutely nothing interesting to post today. So I will instead do a writing exercise. I of course would need to find a writing exercise to do and then, of course, do said writing exercise.

Hmmm…. Setting:

The swamp had all qualities that people come to associate with swamps. It was damp. It was dark. The din of insect wings and the chorus of frogs and birds was both a constant humming background noise and a persistent source of distraction. But swamps are not best described by sound and sight. Swamps are best described by smell and taste. It stank and it tasted like befouled mud. The stink was stronger than the taste, but that was only because I wasn’t actively mouthing the swamp. The taste was one of those unpleasant tastes when your environment permeates… invades your mouth and then just sits there like a rock, but the taste was mild compared to the smell. The smell of the fetid. The smell of decay. The smell of … of… environmental ambivalence. This was a place that did not care if I were alive or dead. It was a place that would find just as much if not more use for me being dead as it would for me being alive. That is what I could taste. That is what I could smell. That is what I heard. That is what I saw. This ambivalence to my existence is why it was so surprising to see a cozy stone cottage with wisps of smoke rising from its chimney.

To recap:
Nordstrom’s has great customer service
Little Man has some new shoes
The remodel might be about done
I still have a laundry list of things to get done
And there is a laundry list of things after the first list
That is the way of “to-do” lists
They never truly get “to-done”
Not listening to anything at the moment
I am watching three MatchTrackers for the England / US friendly being played right now at Wembly
England is up 1 to nil at half

There can be only 1

It is a holiday and I am posting something really quickly. Mim is out of commission due to her neck surgery. Little Man is down due to illness (feverish and yarfy kind). Wifey is still on rest due to not wanting the baby early. I am the only hale and hearty one inn the household. Yes, Mim is technically “in the household” until she recuperates a bit more.

There are boatloads of things to do to get ready from the impending birth.

To recap:
Making ribs
Mmmmmmm ribs
Tomorrow we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming