Are we there yet?

Currently no waiting on Aisle 5...

2007-04-03T14:34:00.000-07:00

So, the time has come to let my techie-toy A.D.D. take over and go play with new stuff.

The 'new toy' in this case would be the fresh new hotness in bloggerizationisms, Vox.com

I'll keep the original SKoS up and live for awhile, and may even get the cross-posting business set up and running, but everyone - and I mean e v e r y o n e, even you Mr. Anonymous Thailand Person - needs to go to Vox, register, and start doing this thing yourselves.

Then we can all join each other's Neighborhoods and be all "Like OMG why did you post that video I was SO going to do that on MY Blog you meanie-panini!!1" ...or something.

It's cool though, even if you do talk like that, because the only proper response was, is and will always be "Up yer butt, Jobu."

SO. Check it out. The new place to be is http://skos.vox.com.

It's a veritable one-stop shop of Kickass - you can read my books, listen to my mp3s, watch favorite GooTube vids and drool over pictures that you wish you took.

Just kidding...mostly.

Done and done. NOW GET THE FUCK OUT.

//andrew

For lack of content....

2007-02-27T11:07:00.000-08:00

I know...updates have been lacking. Frankly, I've been so busy\happy with life, I have nothing to whine about lately :)

Well ok, not *just* whine - I have a metric buttload of cool shit to discuss, share, prophesize upon, but just no time lately.

The executive summary:

- Being in love fucking rules
- Hot girlfriends fucking rule
- New gas-guzzling SUVs fucking rule
- High-paying jobs that I love fucking rule
- Mexico fucking rules
- I can't WAIT for summer to get here already.

...in a nutshell anyway.

- Oh! Huge congrats to my buddy Holly...heh, buddy holly...that's good stuff... eh, anyway - Congrats to Holly and her new baby boy Daniel! He was born last week healthy and happy and is cute as HELL. I'd post a pic of the little dude but Mom needs to give the Ok first.

- Lastly: if you're not aware of http://noolmusic.com, and you're any sort of techno, dance, or drum n'bass fan of any sort...well, then I'm simply ashamed of you.

Yes, the site is horrifying to look at, but it's all about content, and Nool provides it almost daily. Add him to your MySpace friends list if you're so inclined -> http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=13563712

And while I'm on the subject, I heart internet radio like no other, and Nool posted this rad list of online stations (<3 BassDrive.com):

1club.fm
215radio.com
2scr.com
AfterShockRadio.com
Antifmradio.com
AspireDnB.com
Basefm.co.nz
Bassdrive.com
Bassjunkees.com
BBC Radio 1
Beatboxradio.ca
Beatport.com
Bigupradio.com
Breakbeat100.com
Breaksfm.com
Bsp.org
Buzzmusic
Confrontationalradio.co.uk
Dancenationalliance.com
Dancetrippin.tv
Darkfm.com
Ddance.fm
Demostreams.com
Destroyer.net
Di.fm
Digitalvibes.net
DJSourceradio.co.uk
DNB Channel - Techno.FM
Dnb-sets.de - over 4000 sets
Dnbforum.com
DnBradio.com
DnBTV.com
Dogsonacid.com
DnB4essex.co.uk
Drum N Bass Arena
Drumnbassaddicts.co.nz
Drumnbasstv.com
Drumnbassworldwide.co.uk
Drumnbass-munich.net
Dynamicbreaks.com
Electrone.net
Energy 98
Ensonic.fm
Etn.FM
Fearlessradio.com
Frequencyradio.org.uk
Fjsradio.com
Freezefm.co.uk
Friskyradio.com
Funkyhotmix.com
Futuredrumz.com
Futurefmradio.co.uk
Generasianradio.com
Globalfunkradio.com
Greenhouseshow.co.uk
Gridlockfm.com
GrooveRadio.com
Gruvsonic.com
Happyhardcore.com
Hardbazzfusion.com
HBR1.com
Herbnlyrics.com
House Channel - Techno.FM
Ibreaks.co.uk
Ichannelmusic.com
Ineffectradio.com
InternetDj.com
Junglescene.com
Jungletrain.net
Kindradio.net
Kunninmindz.com
Last.fm
Leetradio.com
LFORadio.com
Lifefm.co.uk
Liquid.fm
Liquidfunk.com DJ Mixes
Live Channel - Techno.FM
Macstreams.com
Manicfm.com
Musicv2.com
Mixupload.com
Nativeradio.com
NCDnB.com
Noolmusic.com
Nubreaks.com
Ohmytrance.com
Online Radio Stations List
Orbitalgrooves.com
Originfm952.com
Overxposure.fm
Pandora.com
Partyradio.ca
Passion918fm.com
Pfradio.com
Planetdnb.com
Planetsoulnetwork.com
Plastiksickness.com
Play.Fm
Playtunes.co.uk
PMXradio
Portal.c-dance.com
Pr.Fm
Protonradio.com
Psy Channel - Techno.FM
Pulseradio.net
Pulverradio.com
Pushfm.com
Radioation.com
Radioio.com
Radiok.org
Ragga-jungle.com
Redm1st.com
Reputationcrew.co.uk
Resonancefm.com
Rinsefm.com
Rotown.de
RuudAwakening.com
Samurai.fm
Sensegenerate.fm
Servixradio.com
Shedbass.co.uk
Shine879.com
Sky.fm
Shoutcast.com
Sobroken.com
Somafm.com
Soundfront Underground - Sapphirecut.com
Starpointradio.com
Staticbeats.com
Stationripper.com
Subiceradio.com
Submusica.com
Tastycast.com
Techno Channel - Techno.FM
theDjlist.com
Trance Channel - Techno.FM
Tracklists.ca
Ukbassradio.co.uk
Unitedbreaks.fm
Unityradio.co.uk
Urbandrop.ca
VH1 Radio
Vice.fm
Vinylbeats.net
Virginradio.co.uk
Voguefm.co.uk
Vybefm.co.uk
Wgcr.fm
Whereveradio
Womb.tv
XPLSV.tv
Yahoo Launchcast
---
181kru.com
Beatbasement.com
Blazeradio.org
Boston Rap Radio
Djdownload.com
Dropshop.com
Ichipromotions.com
Kiss100.com
Kzuu.org
Massive Bali Vibrations
Mixalbum.com
Nuskoolbreaks.co.uk
Percussionlab.com
Radiofreemd.org
Sheffieldlive.org
Tweeknasty.com
Vinyl Press - live365.com
Vinyltribe.com
Wcwm.Org - William and Mary
Wkcr - Columbia
Wmua.org - Umass
Wnur.org - Chicago
Wnyu.org - NY
Worldfm.co.uk
WRFM - MCCC
Portland College
Wruv - UVM.edu
Wscafm.org - Portsmouth
WPRB.com - Princeton New Jersey
XPN.org - UPenn

hugs n' kisses

//end.

You never really know unless you try...

2007-02-14T15:19:00.000-08:00

First and foremost, yes...it is Valentine's Day, and barring overly-opinionated whining and hand-wringing about commercialism and consumerism and all other sorts of bad -isms, let's just establish one simple thing:

I don't care.

I happen to like V-day because it provides me...us, the everyman of the world - a solid, unflinching date on the calendar to do something special for her (or him, depending on how you swing your bat) just because. Sure, I could certainly do that something special for her on the 13th, or the 15th...and fight the good fight against The Man and his profiteering ways. But why not be the rockstar and come through on THE day as well? We make feeble attempts at discovering the right gift, the right flower, the right card, or even just the right words to tell them we love them...and hopefully, with crossed fingers, held breath and a little luck - she'll really enjoy what you did, said, and gave, and not because you need to score brownie points for fucking up the last anniversary or completely brain-farting Christmas or her birthday (God help you if you fall into that category...I can only help with so much).

We do it for that smile. For the laughter. For her love. For that moment, however brief it may be.

That, or you're a total fuckup and need every brownie point on the Karma Scale you can scrounge because the smart money says that no, no she does NOT find a new cordless power drill all that romantic. Nice work, Scooter. Enjoy sleeping on the couch.

----

From the Reader Mailbag, I give you this little nugget of email spam wisdom I found fitting, given the particular day and sentiment therein. I've dressed it up just a little because...well...it was spam, and such standards do not exist in any dimension I know. Enjoy:

The Mens' Survival Guide: Chapter 12 - Learning the native language:

1.) FINE: In the language of women, this signifies the end of an argument regardless of right or wrong, and you need to just shut up.

2.) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this is directly proportionate to dog years. When doing your calculations, "five minutes" = 30-45 minutes real-time, give or take.*

**It must be noted that Five Minutes = five REAL minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before the chores must be attended to.

3.) Nothing: AKA Calm Before the Storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine (see #1).

4.) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. It's a trap!!

5.) Loud Sigh: Though technically not a word, but a very important, non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh generally indicates that she thinks you're an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time arguing with you. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)

6.) That's Okay: One of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. "That's okay" means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

7.) Thanks: She is thanking you - do not question, faint, laugh, or be scared. Just say you're welcome and don't make eye contact.

8.) Whatever: AKA "Fuck you and die." If you hear this before, during, or after any interaction with the woman - pack accordingly.

9.) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, directly translated as 'I guess 5 minutes wasn't 5 minutes so I'll just have to do it myself!'

More often than not, this results in the man asking "what's wrong?" - please refer to #3, and in the worst circumstances, #8 for possible responses.

----

Oh, right!! I know it's been a while since the last update, and I totally spaced on this LAST week.

Oh snaps:

Of drinking and revolutions...

2007-02-01T11:29:00.000-08:00

I often wonder what it would be like to simply sell everything of value, liquidate your life and just go somewhere else. Be someone new. Cash it all in, take whatever you have left and just go.

And then I stop wondering about that, because I realize that whatever I 'cash in' would barely get me back to 0 on the debt meter. In fact, I think I'd have to scrounge up some cash just to be dead-broke. But this was all planned and prepared for...being under a car loan is something that I've wanted and feared for years, and now that I'm exactly there, it's not so bad. Yet.

Even so, I still find myself sitting here, knowing how much work I have left to do today, this week and next...hell, for months to come. Yet, I cannot seem to concentrate on it for more than 10-15 minutes. Something is bugging the shit out of me, I can't put a finger on what it is outside of the normal thinking-about-non-work stuff that goes through my head every day: Amy, bills, Taylor, Amy, money, projects, Amy....

In no particular order, of course.

Faaaaack. Ok, back to work for now. If anyone knows what the fuck is bothering me, please let me know. :P

---

Ugh, time drags when you're having fun like this, lemme tell ya. I still can't figure out what it is that's bugging me, but it's certainly annoying. Maybe it's just looking forward to the weekend, spending some time with the Tatertot...her mom left me a message last night saying she lost her second baby tooth. We're headed down to Pike this weekend, so here's crossing fingers for decent weather.

Man. I can't even concentrate long enough to write. I keep looking at the phone, checking to see if I have some missed call or txt message, and I have no idea why.

Wait.

Yeah I do. Now it makes sense.

Shit...I hate feeling like this.

//end.

Meetings...

2007-01-30T17:05:00.000-08:00

Today has been the Day of Conference Room Abuse.

I shit you not, I've been in the same 3 conference rooms on 6 different occassions today, and even got to take the one free half an hour of time to grab something to eat while I sat in my office, muted on a conference call.

Well, at least I know I'm wanted, right?

Anyway.

Amidst my flurry of meeting after meeting today (and during...sshh..), I went and did two things:

- Finally updated Ye Olde MySpace and dumped some more recent pics. Bask in the glory.

- I managed to spend almost an entire meeting thinking about her, and it was easily the best hour+ spent not focusing on work to date.

Looking back over my day today, I think things are going nicely. Still busy. Still sitting in a meeting. Still stupidly in love and wishing I was wherever she is right at this very moment.

But even so...I can't complain :)

//end.

Lazy Sundays...

2007-01-28T11:35:00.000-08:00

I don't know what's better: waking up on a Sunday morning to see the sun warming the world, or waking up next to the most beautiful woman in the world who also just happens to be the love of my life.

Either way, I win.

*sigh* Things have been chugging away in positive forward progress, I guess. I'm still not entirely sure what's ahead, but I do know that the coming month is going to be interesting, if not completely rad. Taylor and mom are gearing up to make the big move to NC, just a little earlier than originally expected. I don't envy Tiah's impending logistical nightmare, and of course the thought of not seeing my little squirt until April certainly sucks, but it's going to work out well, I think.

We've got Valentine's Day looming near, and that little bastard Cupid being as efficient as ever, firmly lodged his love-poker directly in my chest months ahead of the game. I think he's got some product tie-in consortium working with Santa.

That glorious of non-holiday events is bookended by Olivia's birthday on the 11th, followed by Amy's b-day on the 24th, and then a week later, it's my yearly celebration of the anniversary of my 29th birthday.

Amidst all that fun, I've got a mountain of work at work, and a website to build.

Whoo. February's got my calendar on lock-down.

But it's all awesome. Several flavors of awesome, in fact. Hoping that once everything settles down, birthday presents are opened and V-day sentiments of undying love are fawned over, I may even get a chance to take the new wheels for a spin across the state to Spokanistan and see the family. I miss my siblings, even though we drive each other crazy after 72 hours, give or take. So a weekend may be just what the doctor ordered.

---

In other news, someone sent this to me via email, and I thought it was kinda poignant, if not sappy in a sappy sort of sappy way. Thinking it's jacked from a MySpace meme or something, but still...

To every guy that regrets hurting or losing her.

To every guy who knows which girl he wants!!!!!!!!!!

To every guy that's said, "Sex can wait."

To every guy that's said, "You're beautiful."

To every guy that was never too busy to drive across town (or across the state) to see her.

To every guy that gives flowers and a card when she is sick.

To every guy who has given her flowers just because.

To every guy that said he would die for her.

To every guy that really would.

To every guy that did what she wanted to do.

To every guy that cried in front of her.

To every guy that she cried in front of.

To every guy that holds hands with her.

To every guy that kisses her with meaning.

To every guy that hugs her when she's sad.

To every guy that hugs her for no reason at all.

To every guy who would give their jacket up for her.

To every guy that calls to make sure she got home safe.

TO EVERY GUY THAT WOULD SIT AND WAIT FOR HER FOR HOURS JUST TO SEE HER FOR TEN MINUTES.

To every guy that would give his seat up.

To every guy that just wants to cuddle.

To every guy that reassured her that she was beautiful no matter what.

To every guy who told his secrets to her.

To every guy that tried to show how much he cared through every word and every breath.

To every guy that thought maybe this could be the one.

To every guy that believed in her dreams.

To every guy that would have done anything so she could achieve them.

To every guy that never laughed at her when she told him her dreams.

To every guy that walked her to her car.

To every guy that wasn't just trying to get laid.

To every guy that gave his heart

To every guy who prays that she is happy even if you are not with her.

This is one is you.

Not many girls appreciate nice guys anymore...And because of this, there are not many left out there...

I'm not gonna toot a horn, but I think I scored 100% on that quiz.

//end.

Varied and wonderfully useless:

2007-01-25T11:23:00.000-08:00

I think I'll just randomly fill this entry with the tidbits that amuse me throughout the day.

This plan cannot fail!

---
Step One: visit DeLorean.com, purveyors of all things Delorean (the Back to the Future car...wtf is wrong with you.)

Step Two: Search for "flux"

Step Three: Bask in the Awesome.

Bonus Stage Hint: Part numbers run the show.

---

This will only make sense if:

a) You play or have played WoW
b) Got to end-game content
c) Understand what the BC expansion did to the game

If the above are true, the below will amuse you as it did me:

{You have entered 60 Bosses Chat}
{BaronRivendare has come online}
{Gandling}: what's up.
{BaronRivendare}: hey.
{Gandling} : what you doin
{BaronRivendare} : nothin just ridin my horse. Are you lagging?
{Gandling} : dont think so
{Gandling} : y
{BaronRivendare} : havent seen any mobs in three days. think i'm dc'd but just dont know it.
{Gandling} : oic
{Gandling} : same
{BaronRivendare} : bored. u wanna do a me run?
{Gandling} : lol
{Gandling} : at least you get more time with the baroness lol
{BaronRivendare} : lol yeah
{BaronRivendare} : she can definitely take more than 45 minutes if she wants to
{Gandling} : o_O
{Drakkisath has come online}
{BaronRivendare} : 'Sup Drak
{Gandling} : wb
{Gandling} : dc'd?
{Drakkisath} nah thought I heard someone coming in downstairs.
{Drakkisath} was nef and rend fighting again.
{Drakkisath} they usually stop if people come over. nef thinks its funny when rend gets pwned and goes back to sitting on his throne.
{Drakkisath} brb snack
{Drakkisath has gone offline}
{Gandling} SCHOOL IS IN SESSION
{BaronRivendare} wtf
{Gandling} Sorry, just trying to keep up the routine.
{Ysida Harmon} DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME. JUST SLAY THIS ABOMINATION AND RID THE WORLD OF HIS FILTH FOREVER
{BaronRivendare} stfu there isnt even anyone here
{Gandling} damn, caps, jeez
{BaronRivendare} sry
{Gandling} think im gonna go to my alchemy lab
{Gandling} brew up some 'refreshments' to pass the time
{BaronRivendare} lol kk
{Gandling has gone offline}
{BaronRivendare} /sigh
{BaronRivendare} /silly
{BaronRivendare} /silly
{BaronRivendare} /silly
{BaronRivendare} /flirt
{Ysida Harmon} can i go?
{BaronRivendare} stfu
{Nefarian has come online}
{Nefarian} WTF
{Nefarian} where's drak
{BaronRivendare} gettin a snack
{Nefarian} Is it Tuesday?
{BaronRivendare} naw man its Saturday
{Nefarian} you laggin
{BaronRivendare} nope same problem tho
{Nefarian} damn
{Majordomo Executus has come online}
{EliteGuard has come online}
{EliteGuard has come online}
{EliteGuard has come online}
{EliteGuard has come online}
{Healer has come online}
{Healer has come online}
{Healer has come online}
{Healer has come online}
{Majordomo Executus} : hey
{EliteGuard} hey
{EliteGuard} hey
{EliteGuard} hey
{EliteGuard} hey
{Healer} hey
{Healer} hey
{Healer} hey
{Healer} hey
{MajordomoExecutus} jesus christ shut up you're driving me crazy with that
{Majordomo Executus} all damn day
{EliteGuard} sry
{EliteGuard} sry
{EliteGuard} sry
{EliteGuard} sry
{Healer} sry
{Healer} sry
{Healer} sry
{Healer} sry
{EliteGuard is now being ignored}
{Healer is now being ignored}
{MajordomoExecutus} rag told me to ask you guys if you're all laggin'
{Nefarian} nah
{Drakkisath has come online}
{BaronRivendare} no i'm goin real fast
{Drakkisath} that's what the baroness says
{Nefarian} PWNED
{MajordomoExecutus} haha ss'd.
{BaronRivendare} ass
{Drakkisath} dammit i'm bored. where are all the mobs?
{Ragnaros has come online}
{Nefarian} hey rag.
{Ragnaros} TASTE THE FLAMES OF SULFURON
{MajordomoExecutus} wtf caps
{BaronRivendare} o_O
{Nefarian} you dont have to put on your show, there arent any mobs around
{Ragnaros} where the hell is everyone
{Level 64 human warrior has come online}
{Nefarian} niiiiiice
{Nefarian} Im not even gonna use my skellies
{BaronRivendare} same
{Level 64 human warrior has killed Drakkisath}
{Nefarian} ....
{BaronRivendare} wt...
{Level 64 human warrior has killed BaronRivendare}
{Nefarian} jesus
{MajordomoExecutus} /inspect
{MajordomoExecutus} wtf he's wearing greens!
{Level 64 human warrior has killed Majordomo Executus}
{Ragnaros} BY FIRE BE PUR}
{Level 64 human warrior has killed Ragnaros}
{Nefarian} omg
{Nefarian has gone offline}
{Level 64 human warrior} lol noobz
{Level 66 night elf hunter has come online}
{Level 64 human warrior} 2 minutes 34 seconds, beat it
{Level 66 night elf hunter} oh i will
{Level 66 night elf hunter} what are all these healers and elites doing here?

When things just fall into place...

2007-01-23T14:31:00.000-08:00

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness, concerning all acts of initiative (and creation). There is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.

- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I can't tell you how well this fits into so many facets of my life. Big ups to Mr. Von Goethe, and my rad mom for passing it along when I needed it the most.

More badass news of badassery coming soon, with pics even! For reals.

//end.

Killing time with no time to kill.

2007-01-22T16:10:00.000-08:00

The things I'll stoop to when looking to fill the gap between meetings on a Monday.

A 200 Question Fun Survey:

Full Name: Andrew Michael

Birthday: March '76

Birthplace: Lackland AFB, San Antonio Texas

Eye Color: Hazel, but they change with the season

Hair Color: Brown

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 260

Right handed or Left handed?: Right

Your Heritage: Irish, Polish, and a whole mess of other stuff

My Worst Habit: Smoking

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Shoe Size: 11.5-13, depending on the shoe

Pants Size: whatever fits? I don't fkn know.

Innie or Outie?: Innie. I think outties are a myth in the 21st century.

Parents Still Together?: Nope

The Shoes You Wore Today: the charcoal Chuck Taylor lows!

Your Weakness: Amy

Your Fears: Complacency. And being eaten by bears.

Your Perfect Pizza: Thin-crust pepperoni, mozzarella & asagio cheese

Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: To be my own boss

Your Most Overused Phrase On An Instant Messenger: wtf?

Thoughts First Waking Up: I wish Amy was here.

Your Best Physical Feature: I have no idea. I've heard eyes, arms, back, hair...whatever.

Your Bedtime: when I fall asleep

Your Most Missed Memory: how do you miss a memory?

MY FAVORITES
Favorite color?: Blue

Food?: Anything found on a grill

Sport?: Baseball

Animal?: don't have one really

Ice Cream?: Natural vanilla bean or chocolate-chip mint

Candy?: anything cinnamon

Store?: Target

Salad Dressing?: Caeser or balsamic vinegarette

Actor?: movie hound - too many to list

Song?: Currently listening to: Amon Tobin

Letter?: A

Number?: 7 and 42

Gum?: Cinnamon

Holiday?: 4th of July and Christmas

Season?: Summer

Toothpaste Flavor?: uh, Aquafresh Cinnamon...I think. It's red.

Radio Station?: 107.7 the End, if I must.

Perfume?: Whatever she wears

Scent besides perfume?: Amy's hair

FRIENDS AND LIFE
What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?: Retired by 35!

How Do You Want To Die?: Pass

Which One Of Your Friends Acts The Most Like You?: None of them, thankfully

Who's The Loudest?: My brother, Ben

Who Makes You Laugh The Most?: My brother, Ben

Who Have You Known The Longest?: Family

Who's The Shyist?: Don't know many shy folks

When Have You Cried The Most?: When my ex and daughter moved out, years ago. That sucked.

What Is The Best Feeling In The World?: Having her close to me

Worst Feeling?: Whenver she's not

Where Do You Want To Live When You Grow Up?: Beach in Mexico

If You Could Change One Thing About You What Would It Be?: My crooked jaw

How Long Do You Think You'll Live?: Long enough, I hope

FINISH EACH SENTENCE
Let's walk on the: beach

Let's look at the: stars

What a nice: set of dimples. (wink)

Where did all the: beer go?

Why can't we: just lay in bed naked all day?

Silly, little: inconveniences of life, getting in the way!

Isn't it weird that: love smacks you in the face when you least expect it... :)

Never under any circumstance: trust a carny.

I wish: that I could snap my fingers and make dreams come true.

Everyone has a: purpose.

I am: getting bored with this stupid survey.

HAVE YOU EVER
Been In Love?: Absolutely

Been To Juvie?: Nope

Mooned Someone?: Nope

Been Rejected?: Not really...for a job, maybe.

Ran Away From Home?: Yeah

Pictured Your Crush Naked?: Of course

Skipped School?: More often than not

Thought About Suicide?: Talk about a moment of weakness. I don't think so, Alex.

Slept Outside?: Yep

Laughed So Hard You Cried?: Oh yeah. hang around with Ben long enough and you will too.

Cried In School?: Probably.

Thrown Up In School?: On the bus a couple times

Wanted To Be a Model?: Nope

Cheated On Someone?: Nope

Done Something Really Stupid That You Still Laugh At Today?: If you can't laugh at yourself what the hell's the point

Seen A Dead Body?: Unfortunately

Drank Alcohol?: Yes please

Smoked?: Unfortunately

Been On Drugs?: Nothing more than smokin' a bowl.

Eaten Sushi?: Blech.

Been On Stage?: Yep

Gone Skinny Dipping?: Yep

Shoplifted?: Yep. Got caught too. That sucked.

Been Drunk?: Yes please!

Been Called A Tease?: Yep

Been Beaten Up?: Nope

DO YOU
Swear?: Like a drunken sailor with Turret's

Sing Well?: Nope

Shower Daily?: Yes

Want To Go To College?: Nope

Want To Get Married?: Yep

Believe In Yourself?: Slowly, but yeah

Get Motion Sickness?: Used to

Think You Are Attractive?: Depends on the day

Get Along With Your Parents?: One of them, yeah

Like Thunderstorms?: Absolutely

Play An Instrument?: Not yet, no

Own An IPOD?: Nope

Pray?: Every day

Go To Church?: Not any more

Sleep With Stuffed Animals?: Nope

Keep A Journal/Diary?: You're reading it peenhead.

Dance in the rain?: mkay fruitloop, let's get on with it.

Sing In The Shower?: Seriously...

THIS OR THAT
Pepsi or Coke?: Coke Zero!

McDonald's or Burger King?: McDuck's - can never find a BK around here

Single or Group Dates?: Quiet night at home on the couch wins every time, but out with friends is awesome too

Chocolate or Vanilla?: Chocolate

Strawberries or Blueberries?: Strawberries

Meat or Veggies?: Meat

TV or Movie?: either way

Guitar or Drums?: Drums

Adidas or Nike?: either way

Chinese or Mexican?: either way

Cheerios or Corn Flakes?: Cheerios

Cake or Pie?: Cherry pie

MTV or VH1?: either way

Blind or Deaf?: deaf

Boxers or Briefs?: Cotton boxer briefs

CAN YOU
Do The Splits?: Used to

Write With Both Hands?: Kinda

Whistle?: yep

Blow A Bubble?: Yep

Roll Your Tongue In A Circle?: Yep

Cross Your Eyes?: Yep

Walk With Your Toes Curled?: Yep

Touch Your Tongue to Your Nose?: No. Weirdo.

Dance?: So I've been told.

Eat Whatever You Want And Not Worry?: I wish.

WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON
You Touched: Amy

You Talked To On The Phone: Amy

You Instant Messaged: Gorzy msg'd me

You Hugged: Amy

You Yelled At: Coworker

You Played A Sport With: Taylor

WHAT'S THE LAST
Time You Laughed?: About 10 seconds ago

Time You Cried?: Been quite a while

Movie You Watched?: Jackass #2 unrated. Awesome x100.

Flavor Of Gum You Chewed?: Dentyne Fire

Joke You Told?: Uh....

Song You've Sung?: Johnny Cash "Cry, Cry, Cry"

RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT
Where Are You?: My office

What Can You See Out Your Window?: Construction across the street

Are You Listening To Music?: Yep, Devil Driver is currently assaulting my ears

What Are You Wearing?: Jeans, shirt, shoes.

What's On Your Mousepad?: Mousepads are for the weak-willed.

BELIEFS

Do you believe there is life on other planets?: Sure

Do you believe in miracles?: Yep

Magic?: Kinda...not really...yeah no.

Love at first sight?: Totally

God?: Yep

Satan?: Yep

Ghosts?: Dunno...

Santa?: Of course!

Evolution?: Yep

RANDOM
What Country Would You Most Like To Visit?: Any

Number Of CD's I Own: Too many to list

Your Good Luck Charm: Taylor :)

How many pillows do you sleep with?: 4...only use 1.

Do you drink milk?: Yep

Person You Hate Most: I don't have the energy to hate. I strongly dislike our douchebag president though, that's a start....

Most Outdated Phrase: Uh...

Do you think God has a gender?: Does it matter?

Where do you think we go when we die?: The great skate park in the sky!

How many rings until you answer the phone?: Custom ringtones = awesome.

What is something scientists need to invent?: Teleporters. Fuuuuck traffic.

Are you a health freak?: riiiight.

If you could travel into space, where would you go?: Any and everywhere

What is the worst weather?: Fuck ice and fuck snow.

Did you play with Barbies as a child?: Again with the gay. Enough already.

How many grades have you failed?: None
----

Good lord. What have I done....

Just because:

2007-01-15T09:21:00.000-08:00

This cannot go unnoticed.

Sunday evenings...

2007-01-14T19:14:00.000-08:00

This came up in a conversation the other day, and I figured it was worth preserving, since I've never really written about this whole series of events before.

----
Right out of high school, instead of going off to college as I should've done, I opted to head south to immerse myself in the Texas half of my family as part escaping the nest and part 'I'm a jackass who doesn't know what he wants to do yet' move.

(my father's entire family has lived in Texas for generations, all the way back to the Alamo days, so I'm told)

So, spending the summer there with my grandparents and aunt & uncle, taking in all the new and unusual perspectives that I hadn't been exposed to was quite an adventure. Not all fun and games, however, as both my grandfather (known to all as "Pop"), and my grandmother (Liz), were both getting on in years and dealing with a multitude of health issues.

My grandmother had been suffering through various heart and circulatory problems for years, resulting in the amputations of both legs near her hips by the end of it all. So, by my arriving there, I was indoctrinated into the day-to-day care of a bed-ridden grandmother, from changing diapers, preparing meals and even bathing.

Fun stuff.

My grandfather, Pop, was as good-natured as he could be given the whole situation, and I like to think that he enjoyed just having company to sit and watch baseball with. He also taught me quite a bit about fishing, one of his many passions, and even gave me some of his "special" tried and true bass lures.

I was out fishing one morning (we lived right on the shore of Medina Lake, Lake Hills TX), and my uncle was taking the day off from work to get some projects at home finished up. Standing down on the dock, I hear Dean holler "Andrew! Get up here quick!!" - having never really heard my uncle's voice with that kind of urgency, I knew something was wrong...my mind shuffled through all the possible problems I was about to face - had my grandmother rolled out of her bed and fallen? Did Pop forget his asthma medication again and need the respirator?

When I walked into the house, Pop was sitting on the edge of the couch and looked very pale, and my uncle was in the back bedroom on the phone. I noticed Pop's eyes were closed and his tongue was sticking out just a little...I kind of froze for a second, then heard my uncle come back up to the front room and asked me to help lay Pop down on the ground, the ambulance was on the way.

What...? What the hell is going on? was all I could hear in my head.

I kind of mechanically helped my uncle pick Pop up and we laid him down on the ground, and my mind suddenly decided to rejoin the current world and realized what was happening - Pop was either dying or dead, and we were the only ones there to help.

I started CPR and didn't stop until the medics pushed me out of the way to but a mask over Pop's face.

By the time the coroner arrived, word had spread as it tends to in the south, and family members I'd never even met were arriving by the minute, all in big-hair and too-much-makeup frantics that only Texas can give the world.

I kind of faded into the background, and walked up to the top floor of my aunt and uncle's in-mid-construction house across the lot from my grandparents' place, and sat on the loft rafters, watching the whole scene. Pop had been pronounced dead, and I heard someone on a cell phone asking where to find a larger body bag...the one he had wasn't going to fit. (Pop was a big man at 6'3", 300 lbs easily).

I should've been sad, or crying, or...something. But I wasn't. I was kind of just numb, I guess, and letting it all sink in. I sat there for hours as the sun started to go down, and slowly the ambulance and medical personnel and family members trickled out of the house and drove away or up the hill to the other house to do whatever families do when someone dies.

Sitting in the rafters, staring off over Pop's tomato garden that he cherished so much...and this is pretty hokey and cliche, I know, but I had one of those little chats with God, and just asked Him if Pop was ok. As I tumbled those words around in my head, a dove decided to fly up and park itself on a support beam not more than 2 feet away from me. We sort of looked at each other for a while, and the silly bird cocked it's head sideways at me, made that eerily-comforting 'coo'ing' sound that doves make....and I had a simple, warm feeling flush over me right then and there.

Some time later, my dad flew down for the memorial service, which was both a blessing, as I had begun to miss home severely and having him around in this new environment helped - and a curse, because it was the second, and last, I imagine, time that I saw my dad cry.

Pop was cremated. The flowers eventually wilted, the cards and well-wishes put away in a box and stayed on my aunt and uncle's dresser-top next to my grandfather's ashes, which later became known as Pop-In-A-Box...my uncle's disgustingly funny sense of humor being what it was.

And finally, we spread Pop out amongst his tomato plants, and I knew Pop was alright, happily taking up residence at that new, perfect fishing hole, wishing he could tell us to stop with all the fuss.

----

//end.

Insert witty title here.

2007-01-05T20:52:00.000-08:00

When I sit down to type these little thoughts and feelings, it's for myself and no one else.

A long time ago, I heard of a psychological technique that intrigued me, and in practice, it seems to work, at least for me in some fashion.

The technique was primarily used to help people dealing with pain and struggles of their own, be it abuse, an alcoholic parent, or a failing relationship in counseling, and any number of life's horrible dealings that face us all.

It involves the person in question writing out or drawing on paper all the anger, pain, resentment, anguish, loss and depression. Be it a journal or diary, or even just on note cards or the closest paper plate one happens upon.

The act of writing is in itself, very therapeutic, and I recommend it to any and everyone out there. But the therapy exercise took it one step further: once the person had gotten everything out that they needed to, the writings were put to flame and burned to ashes.

Very dramatic, I know, but it makes sense.

We hold onto so much pain in our lives - it's just part of being a species with cognitive thought and deep, lasting memories. We always have to think back and recall the GOOD...but the BAD is always there, just under the surface, ready to spring itself on our lives, from just hearing a particular song on the radio, or finding an old picture buried in a box long forgotten.

Something as simple as a smell, or the way someone says something to us, sets us down that path of hurt, and we suddenly remember why we bear the scars that we do.

How do we let it go? How can we forgive, and learn to love again?

Well, someone's idea: burn it.

We write it all down, taking control of those faded memories and very real pain, in our own words, with our own minds and spirits guiding the pen or hitting the keys.

And we burn it.

The old therapy trick noted that the simple act of willfully putting those notes, those scars into the fire...watching the flame come alive with something new to feed on...seeing the paper, or the card, or the pictures drawn fade away into an unrecognizable pile of ash...it provides such a real, tangible release to the person in need of doing so.

So, here I am.

My paper, an electronic notebook full of questions, realizations, small moments of clarity interspersed with the true comedy of life.

My flame, the vast openness of wired space, where someone from Asia is a daily reader of my little thoughts and silly stories.

But I write for myself. And I click a button to burn them in the fire. And even now, in sitting here and clik-clacking away on my keyboard, I feel a sense of release, like the wind blowing across me, refreshing the very spirit, strength and love that I need.

I mentioned in a prior post that this year was going to be quite different and most definitely interesting, if not exciting, and I still hold true to that. But I'm finding myself still asking those questions above, and I suppose that will never really end. In an ironic way, I think those same questions are what keeps us going, keeps us striving forward to improve, to grow, to learn and mature.

So I write, and I burn. With each pseudo-ash I create, I find my strength and patience renewed.

//end.

New year, same pants.

2007-01-02T08:41:00.000-08:00

Wow, ok world...I get it. It's a new year, and there are a thousand and one things to hold retrospective anthologies about, from Best\Worst , to Top <#> of 2006.

I get it. It's over. 2006 is history, and you can't see where you're going if you keep looking back at where you've been, right?

Besides, was 2006 such a banner year, or do we kind of get wrapped up in the holidays (pun intended), for better or worse?

I dunno. I think it's a little of both...part lemming syndrome, and part real need to just change pace a little, go back and cherish the slightest hint of fond childhood memories, or even just try extra-hard to be a decent human being, if even just for a couple weeks in December.

Either way, I do it. You do it. We all fall into the holiday madness in some way, regardless of belief, skin color or theological belief. It's hard not to in our over-commercialized Land of the Consumer, isn't it.

Even so, I think our greatest holiday fallacy is the New Year's Resolution.

res·o·lu·tion –noun

1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5. the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6. the resulting state.
7. Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8. a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9. Music. a. the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance.
b. the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.

10. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11. Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12. the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Origin: 1350–1400; ME < L resolūtiōn- (s. of resolūtiō), equiv. to resolūt(us) resolute + -iōn- -ion]
—Synonyms 4. resolve, determination, perseverance, tenacity; strength, fortitude.

...now, by and large, when speaking of calendar years rolling over, we go with Definition #2, and in most regards, setting such hard, fast resolve just makes the fall and failure that much farther and painful, doesn't it?

Who hasn't set a resolution for themselves, only to face the stark reality that quitting smoking or getting back in the gym or learning a new language is fucking hard, and come mid-March we're teetering on acceptance of our failures and vow to spend the next 8 months working towards a less concrete goal...perhaps just cutting back a little, and by next New Year's, well...dammit, we'll be ready!!

Fuck that.

If you want to quit smoking, you will, regardless of what your new calendar looks like.

If you want to get back in the gym, you'll find a way or you won't, and you don't have to butcher a traditional song like "Auld Lang Syne" in between keg-stands to tell you when it's ok to get started on improving yourself.

However, the end of one year and the moving into a new one is most certainly a time for reflection, of running the numbers of your life and see how you fared. I spent some time over the past weekend doing just that, and all told, my 2006 was pretty goddamned incredible.

The past year saw me:

- Turn 30
- Survive another company-wide layoff
- Discover a career
- Bring to life some old talents that I'd all but given up on
- Shed a bad relationship that should've ended long before '06
- Re-discover the meaning of family and friendship
- Realize long hair just isn't for me
- Discover what love really is, and how important it is to our lives
- Re-discover the absolute joy and peace in a child's smile
- Fall completely in love with someone that I cherish, and quite by accident

...and the rest, the in-between bits, are certainly documented (sporadically) here in these journal pages.

Looking back, it's been quite an impressive year for me. Yes, I need to quit smoking again, and yes, I need to get back in the gym again, and yes, I need to continue to focus on my career and my relationships. Those are every-day resolutions, and sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail.

So, instead of Definition #2, I went with #10 instead:

10. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.

This just seems right to me, and probably because it's a large part of what took place in my life over the past year. I've simplified my entire life, making things easier to manage, and presenting myself with exactly what I want, and what I need around me.

So, to continue that theme, I've given myself goals instead of just a resolve. Goals not just for 2007, but for the rest of my life:

- Happiness
- Purpose

...eh? See? Simple.

Happiness: I've found a level of happiness that I never thought possible in Amy.
Sure, I'll be the first to admit that it isn't easy. Kids, crazy relatives, annoying dog, hectic schedules, power outtages...you name it, we get to deal with it in some fashion. But I've got to tell you: I love being in love with that woman. I absolutely thrill in it, waking up next to her, crazy hair all over the place, just feeling her warmth near me.

Yeah, it's not easy. Nothing worth the effort in this world is ever easy, and she is most certainly worth the effort.

Which leads me to Simplified Goal of Life #2:

Purpose: I'm slowly beginning to find more purpose in my life, and not just to accomplish tasks like I'm working on a project. I really want to feel like I'm doing something to better the world, if even just the immediate world around me. It doesn't have to be so grandoise as to joining the Peace Corps and building mud huts in Zimbabwe - 'though that would be kinda cool.

I want purpose across the spectrum: I want to improve the world, I want to help people - perfect strangers that I'll never meet, and I want to improve my world and the loved ones that surround me.

So, in a very yin-yang, Zen-like way, my Happiness has given me the gateway to my Purpose, and discovering that Purpose, reveling in it and being excited about it... has given me even more Happiness.

I'm excited about 2007. I think this year is going to bring another round of firsts and discoveries to my life, and I welcome them all, even the rough ones.

- I enjoy my new job, but it is contract work.
Then again, there's a certain freedom to it all...I've never been much of the 9 to 5 guy anyway.

- My remaining grandparents will die.
I worry about my mom and how she will deal with things, but next to Amy, she's the toughest and strongest person I've ever known in my life. In a very harsh reality of life, their passing will relieve a great weight from my mother's shoulders.

- My daughter will be moving away.
North Carolina is a long ways away, but if even for a year trial-run, this could be a defining year in our relationship as kid and dad. She is a true Daughter of the 21st Century - divorce, text messaging, OnDemand cable, Barbie laptops, cell phones, war, global warming...her world is so much different than mine was at 6 years old, and I marvel at her ability to cope with it all and never losing herself, her just being a kid.

Some tough realities ahead of me, but again, I welcome them as part of the adventure. All in all, I want what everyone wants: a happy, simple, honest life to share with those I love, and everything I do is with that goal in mind. It didn't used to be that way, but my Happiness, she's shown me another way...and my Purpose, it's keeping me focused and driven.

The hell with resolutions. Just try simplifying and see where it gets you. :)

Happy New Year -

//end.

The Aftermath...

2006-12-26T10:59:00.000-08:00

December 26th. I need a holiday from the holidays.

All told, everything came together in rather fantastic fashion, although it got down to the wire there at the very end. For those not keeping score on the latest saga:

- After Hurrican Junior took out power to over a million homes in the greater Seattle metropolis, Amy was one of the lucky few to continue NOT having power several days later. Once the power was restored roughly around last Tuesday, her brilliant neighbors decided that there was some ground to be made up in the power-consumption arena - by "brilliant" I mean fucking retarded - and turned every goddamned thing on at the same time, thus killing the power to only HER building by way of knocking out an underground fuse or somesuch...sorry we have no ETA on when it will be fixed, ma'am.

So. Not only were we in the midst of one of the single most stressful times of the year, coupled with some already-troubling issues of her own accord in dealing with trust, promises being kept, and most importanly, her kids being happy...now she and her little family had become refugees, alternating between my house and her mom's place to keep warm and functioning.

A small emotional break-down, a giving up almost entirely on Christmas, life, God and everything inbetween, things were not looking good on the Eve of Christmas Eve.

But then....

Amy's brother Josh was flying in from New York as a surprise. Yay!
I was doing my very best to keep her spirits up, and did everything in my power to prove to her that Christmas was not lost, not on my fucking watch. Yay!
And eventually - Power was restored. Yay!

And by the time it was all said and done...everything worked out wonderfully.

- Friday evening Amy and the kids came over (this was pre-power back on, mind you), and Amy all but twisted my arm to open my gifts then and there. She got me a fantastic book that she's been telling me about for months, Life of Pi, and Olivia picked out this amazing candleholder piece with a really awesome vanilla candle...I dunno how that kid just knew that was for me, but we set it up next to the bed with my little bamboo plant, and it's like my own little corner of Zen.

I didn't have words to express how pleased I was, and it wasn't so much the gifts themselves, but the thoughtfulness and love behind them. I'll carry that candle around with me for the rest of my days.

- Saturday, Amy & kids headed out to help her mom prep for family events, and Taylor and I went to my mom's for dinner and to exchange gifts. My grandfather was there, and it was an absolute joy to just get to spend some time with him. He's pushing 95 now, and has varied health problems, so I know our time is limited. Just getting the chance to let him see Taylor, watch her play and to see him smile and laugh with her was wonderful.

Got back home, and the kids got to have Christmas, Act One together, gleefully tearing wrapping paper up and bouncing around having a grand time annoying my downstairs neighbor. Taylor (and her mom) were very sweet and got me a really nifty set of emergency tools for the car, some really nice sandalwood soap, and Resevoir Dogs, which, if you know me at all, you know that movies are the true way to my heart, especially violent badass-ery courtesy of Quinten Tarantino.

As mon a'mour and I finalized wrapping of presents for varied family members and friends, it seemed as though a weight had been lifted from her very-tired shoulders. So much stress, so much emotional asskicking the past couple of weeks had taken its toll on her. It was good to see her smiling and laughing again, like small little streaks of sunlight shoving their way through the clouds after a rainstorm.

With Christmas Eve now upon us, we girded loins for the final push, the rally of presents, food, family and stress. The power finally being restored to her place, we hauled stuff back over to the house for final wrapping and prep. Up until that very day, the Christmas Plan B was established at her mom's house, and that was continuing forth, but the kids could have Christmas Part Three later in the afternoon Xmas day...so we stocked the tree with phat loots, had a drink and enjoyed the warmth and glow of power restoration.

It was both joyful and triumphant.

Quite an adventure, these past few weeks. Kids are happy. Moms and dads are exhausted. And I hope, above all else, that some faith and trust was restored.

Love isn't just about all the happy fun stuff...the true test is getting through the hard parts in one piece, and most importantly, never losing sight of what that love is, and what it means to your life and happiness.

Strength and patience.

Hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday.

//end.

Peaking over the edge or just falling on your ass...

2006-12-21T01:09:00.000-08:00

1am, or thereabouts, can't sleep and big fucking shocker, have some quiet time to contemplate the state of things and leave another voicemail for the Big Guy. I don't mean that cynically, either - I just figure what with the holidays, wind storms and all other manner of crazy shit that's been creeping up lately, He's working overtime. My whining can certainly wait until we return to our regularly-scheduled programming after the first of the year.

Funny though. I sit down at Ye Olde Wünder Box and let the magic of the intertubes ease the mind and soul, and out of pure motor-reflex, I check email, even though I'd done the perfunctory checking not more than a couple hours prior.

Well, call it my reading too much into the fortune cookie or Someone checking His messages on a more regular basis than first assumed, I found this sitting in not one but three Inboxen:

As we grow and move through Life, what little lessons we take for granted...

We learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.
We learn that we'll have our hearts broken probably more than once, and it's harder every time.
We learn that we will break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.
We will fight with our best friends.
We will blame a new love for things an old one did.
We will cry because time is passing too fast.
We will eventually lose someone we love.

So dance your heart out. Take too many pictures. Laugh too hard, and the most important lesson of all:

Love like you have never been hurt.

Life is far too short, and every minute we spend in regret, fear, or anger at the world is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

Don't be afraid that your life will end,
Be afraid that it will never begin.
~Anonymous

Are you kidding me? Even for random spam TIMES THREE - God...dude....you're kinda creepin' me out with this stuff man.

Seriously.

Ok. For my next trick, I'm going back to bed to stare at the ceiling and ask to win the damn lottery.

Now watch, His voicemail box will be "full"...

NOT FUNNY! *shakefist*

----

Update: Just to add to more of the fortune-cookie fun while we're at it, here's mine and, shockingly enough, Amy's Personality In a Nutshell, courtesy of MySpace bulletin spam:

>>>PISCES<<< >Caring and kind >Smart. >Center of attention. >Too Sexy, DAMN IT. >Very high sex appeal. >Has the last word. >The best to find, hardest to keep. >Fun to be around. >Freak in the sheets >Extremely weird but in a good way. >Super good in bed. (Da Man) >Good Sense of Humor!!! >Thoughtful >A partner for life >Always gets what he or she wants. >loves to joke >Very popular >Silly, fun and sweet.

-Hazel eyes-

People with hazel eyes are GORGEOUS SEXY and go all out all the time.They have the most unusual relationships. They're awesome at diversity and trying new things and very rarely will say no to ANY challenge. They are also the best in bed and love to play games they are very out going and they are sexy as hell and they are NOT nice when they are mad .

Now I can't claim much responsibility or accuracy, but there are just those times in life, where a series of events occurs in such a manner that leaves you with nothing left to say but simply "what the hell...really?"

Yeah. I'm still waiting to hear back on that lottery winning stuff....*HINT HINT*.

//end

Uncool.

2006-12-16T15:12:00.000-08:00

24 hours without power makes one have, if even slight, a better appreciation and understanding for the things around us that we take for granted.

Like heat. Light. Hot water to take a shower.

Washington and Oregon got slapped upside the head with one hell of a storm Thursday evening, with massive rains and winds reaching upwards of 90mph in some areas. That evening, standing outside on Amy's balcony, we watched the trees bend and quietly scream as the winds tore things left and right, and eventually, the little light show that was power transformers popping across the Woodinville-Redmond valley provided brief shots of entertainment...until the power went out for us too.

Candles lit, we got kids to bed and presents wrapped, sat on the couch and just enjoyed the quiet of the house as the fury of that storm howled outside. It was kind of romantic in a way, but even so, I had to head on home and see if any trees had rudely entered their way into my little apartment via a window or something equally crappy. Don't get me wrong - I would've loved nothing more than to curl up in bed next to her and just listen to that storm wreak its havoc, but...yeah, well. In due time, I hope.

So, I packed up my stuff, and adventured forth into a very windy, very dark drive home. There's something eerily melodic about places and things you know, suddenly missing key features as the scene passes you by. Street lamps and traffic lights, the ever-present glow of the big yellow Shell gas station sign, or the Starbucks logo in green and white. When you suddenly remove those little bits and pieces, the whole becomes foreign.

Motoring on home, seeing the evergreen path of destruction along the roads was also quite a sight. The entire drive smelled like a Christmas tree farm after harvest, and the roads looked like a warzone of downed trees and branches flying everywhere. The tricky part was dodging the stuff in mid-rend, my poor little car even getting slapped in the face by a falling tree as I crested a hill. No damage to speak of minus a broken windshield wiper and some scratches; the very tip-top of the tree had crashed into the road just far enough in to bonk The Blue Bomber on the passenger side. But I won't lie - that puckered my butthole for a minute.

Getting into Woodinville after that first foray into Mother Nature, again, seemed alien. Not more than 20 minutes ago, I was in the middle of a wanna-be junior hurricane, and now I'm crossing through green-light intersections that I've driven thousands of times like nothing's happening. Granted, it was kind of nice to just have light on the road and power when I actually made it home, but still...

My power finally blinked out around 1 or 2am, and thankfully I'd charged my phone enough to wake me up the next morning and attempt the drive to work. The Day After, so to speak (so melodramatic, I know) was equally impressive to witness, as the light of day shed itself on the poor tree victims that it had claimed. It was everywhere, and the entire drive in to work, not a lit light bulb to be found.

Now, why I was trying to go to work is beyond me - I knew that the entirety of Redmond was without power, and the basic laws of secure buildings with keycards dictates that without juice, you ain't gettin' in. Even so, had to try - which in and of itself was a mistake. My car, having developed a case of the Squeaky Belt the day before, starting acting really strange. Give it some gas - no go. Oh hey, radio's turning on and off....sweeeeet. So, I immediately turned around and limped on back to homebase, crossing fingers and making prayer-promises to be good, just get me home...!

Made it home, shut the car off and ran my first test of theory: start it again. Nothing.

*sigh*

Long and short of it though, figured out the problem, and with the incredible friends that I've mentioned previously, made several stops and finally found the bolt (yes, one stupid M7 metric bolt, the cause of my woes), fixed it, and even managed to stay where it was warm and recharge my batteries. All of them.

A rather craptacular 24 hours nonetheless, but arriving home late last night, I was pleasantly welcomed by a house with power and heat, so what started horribly that morning certainly ended a little better.

(God bless those line crews out there fixing this little blackout.)

I don't think I can quantify how great some of the people around me are...those that always seem to be there when I need them the most, especially when others just seem to up and vanish. Helping get a car fixed, or simply letting me hang out where there's heat and comraderie - those are things I just don't know how to show enough appreciation for, so the best I can do is memoralize here in words.

For those still without power, I feel your pain and hope it comes back on soon. You guys are all more than welcome to come hang out here, but..then...if you don't have power you're probably not going to be reading this any time soon.

Crap.

//end.

Here we go...

2006-12-14T12:18:00.000-08:00

It's finally arrived. We are now in the midst of the 12 Days of Christmas. Twelve glorious days left to shop, overextend credit cards, worry about right or wrong colors, sizes and brand.

I had a long, hard but very much necessary discussion with mon amour last night, and we bridged some gaps, drank some beer, nursed sore elbows, and in general, just enjoyed the quiet and being able to talk.

It's difficult, watching someone you love so intensely, suffer through tears and pain that you can't do anything about. You want so desperately to come to the rescue, to have the exact rights words to say at the exact right moment to make everything better...but you just can't. I don't think there are words enough to recover the pain that she's had to deal with, so I keep doing whatever I can to help and support her through all this, even if it's just sitting there, my own heart breaking at the sight of her in tears, trying my best to just give her my strength. I would suffer through all of this for her if I could...but how the fuck do you express that to the very person that's actually suffering?

Dammit.

Strength and patience, grasshoppa...

Yeah yeah I know...*grumble*

Mhmm..

In other, related news:

- Christmas itself should be interesting this year. Because of this new job and being stuck in between pay periods due to my initial start date, I'm getting down to the wire on shopping time, and the real crappy part is that I have not one but TWO Secret Santas to ship gifts to. UPS better not fuck with me this year or I will bring the pain.

- The job itself is going pretty well now that I'm getting into the swing of things. It's slowly becomingg not exactly what I signed up for, but the past 10 years in this industry have taught me that that's par for the course. Even so, I'm most definitely not going to be bored at work any time soon, which is a good thing. The scary part is that I'm going to be dealing with a lot of very important people in this company on a routine basis, so I have to have my 'A Game' on at all times...something I'm not entirely good at doing. However, it's allowing me to learn new things, expand my knowledge base and experience, and make a fuckload of money doing it...so I can't complain.

- The guys I reached out to this week for help with Amy's website idea have been more than responsive, which is great. Seems that they all want to help in some way (except for Gary who probably hasn't checked his GMail account in a year) and that in and of itself is quite endearing, and reassures me as to why I keep the friends I do. Friends you can count on like that are few and far between...I've just been blessed to have an abundance of them in my life so far :)

- Lastly, to the person that asked: The tattoo on my left arm is the kanji for Year of the Dragon, the Chinese zodiac year I was born (1976), and, coincidentally, the year my daughter was born too (2000). And yes, those are my real arms. I lift heavy stuff every now and then.

--

//end.

Questions.

2006-12-12T09:22:00.000-08:00

What is love, and how do we know...really, truly know when that love is real?

One of the hardest questions we face in this world, and it's something that's been revolving around in my head since late last night. You may think this odd or weird, but those late nights when I can't sleep, I sit and stare at the ceiling in the dark, kind of phase my eyes out of focus and tune the rest of the world out and have a chat with God. Sometimes He listens...sometimes He answers...other times it feels like I'm just rambling into the answering machine.

Even so, those late nights of thought - be it God or my own mind and heart giving me the answers i'm looking for...well, those moments of clarity are few and far between, but when they occur, it's something I've learned not to ignore.

What is love? How do I know I'm in love? How do I know I'm being loved?

Over and over and over, those questions have been circling around in my brain, like rotating puzzle pieces, trying to make them fit together and see the answer come together. But is it really that easy? Can staring at the ceiling, waiting for some divine inspiration really answer one of mankind's greatest mysteries...or am I just waiting for the beep to leave a message again?

Again, call me crazy, or laugh it off...I won't fault you one bit. It's taken a lot of years, a lot of tears and pain, and a lot of failure on my part to come to these conclusions.

What is love?

Love is sacrifice. It is a giving of yourself, your heart, your soul to another, be it a child, a parent, a friend, a partner. Some say to define love, look to Jesus as our example. Without delving too deeply into the theology, the pureset example of God's love for us was His giving His only son's life for our sins. It is the ultimate sacrifice of Himself, for us. That is love.

Love is a mother's calming touch when we're in pain.
Love is a friend's support without even being asked.
Love is a father's embrace of strength and security when we're scared.

Love is the unyielding sacrifice to another for nothing but that person's happiness. To give them trust, faith, hope, safety, joy and security in knowing that no matter what they face, no matter how far they fall, you will always give yourself to them without flinching, without question...without a moment's hesitation.

Love is the total surrender of your heart to that person, knowing...
believing...that they will treat it better than you will.

And therein lies the rub. It is God's greatest gift, and His greatest quandry of the human condition.

How can we totally sacrifice ourselves, when time and time again it seems that when we do...when we finally let those walls down...let those wounds heal...accept our scars...when we reach the edge of that final cliff, our self-preservation kicks in, and we shy away from what we know is real, and true, and wonderful?

Why is it so goddamned hard to love?

Is it the sacrifice itself, or is it fear overriding our common sense, displacing our trust and faith in ourselves and in others?

It's a monumental task, to overcome those fears and second-guessing. But my god...when you find that love, and you willingly give yourself over... *sigh* Even me, nary a moment without something to say or the words to say it - even I find it hard to describe just how fiercely real this kind of love is, like a fire that burns in my chest with such incredible intensity.

Let me put it this way, I guess..

If I had a wish. Just one wish in this entire world to do with what I so desired, you know what I would wish for?

I would wish for the entire world, each and every person out there, to be able to see and feel the world through my eyes, through my heart. I would wish for every single one of you to know what I know, and to know true, unshakable, unquestioned love. I would wish for the entire world to know what it's like to just be near her, and feel my entire heart and spirit glow with life, happiness and love.

I would wish for the entire world to see through my eyes, through my heart, when she looks back at me and I just know, without ever having to say a word.

Love is sacrifice. It is the unquestioned, unflinching giving of one's self to another in all that we do, from the smallest, almost unoticeable tasks to the most ultimate of sacrifice. Taking out the garbage when you say you will. Stopping what you're doing to teach a child how to tie a shoelace. Opening a stuck jar lid. Being there when a friend just needs you to listen and not judge.

Love is a mom doing everything thing she can to protect her children.
Love is a father's teaching and patience.

Love is strength. It is honesty. It is an undying willingness to be and do whatever we must to protect and cherish those around us.

Love is the breath of life itself, and knowing it...knowing true, unshaking love is one of the most inspiring gifts we can encounter in this life.

I've found it, and I've made a promise to that love, to that sacrifice. Patience, strength, honesty, trust...all for nothing else but her happiness in life. To know what I know. To surrender that heart willingly, and to know that I will cherish and protect it...her...until the end of time itself.

That is love. And it is incredible.

Scrubs + Charlie Brown = Awesome

2006-12-09T17:18:00.000-08:00

No words, just rad.

The Storm Theory

2006-12-06T23:54:00.000-08:00

Some days, it just feels like I can't win.

I try. I am trying. Not just to win, really...but to just be. To get along, to be happy, to be content but never complacent.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job there for awhile, and then the Great Snowpocalypse of 2006 hit last week, and everything's been running downhill since.

Got sick, didn't pay attention to it...then got really sick. Made a bad choice with the best of intentions and am still paying the price.

Now? Now I'm just trying to maintain. To keep my faith where it needs to be. To be strong for someone I love deeply...but in order to do so, it means drawing back, ever so slightly.

For a while there, I thought things were finally moving in the right direction, and don't get me wrong, 99% of my life is not too shabby these days, battered kidneys notwithstanding.

It's that little 1% motherfucker that keeps tripping me up, and the more I try to just tell myself 'be patient...be strong...no one ever said this would be easy'..it doesn't seem to matter. Every day, I wake up and face another day of wondering, wishing, and longing, and regardless of my work, projects, sore, recovering body, I still feel erased. Scratched out. A side-note scribble.

Even so, I made a promise and it's one I intend to keep. It's this little avenue of outlet that allows me to press on and do what I need to do, each and every day.

I just hope that someday, what I am doing here and now will be looked upon with nothing but love, because that's why I am doing what I'm doing. Until then, I'll keep fighting these brief glimpses of loss, seperation...if only for the moment, it feels like I'm on the other side of the glass looking in, and I want nothing more in this world than to be there, with her.

God knows why I'm here, feeling like this...God knows how much I truly, deeply love her.

And I made a promise.

For her.

----

Update: Wow, well...in just under 9 hours, several questions of why and what's going on and am I ok, so let me clear a couple things up.

a) I am most certainly alive and will continue to remain so as planned for the next 35-50 years if all goes accordingly.

b) In reference to what I mentioned above, well... It's hard to explain, and even harder to deal with, but let me just say that through it all, I know it will be worthwhile. She is worth it..and if you don't know what or who I'm talking about, then you haven't really been paying much attention.

c) Yes, I do love her. More than I ever thought possible, and the coming days, weeks, months (god i hope not) are going to put that love to the test.

What happens next is out of my hands, and I know that. All I can do is keep my promise, be her hero, and let God and my love for her do the rest.

----

//end.

What? Where's Dr. Cox!?!

2006-12-02T23:42:00.000-08:00

So, it took me passing out walking up the stairs to my house to finally figure out why I've been feeling SO fucked up the past 4+ days.

Turns out the strep throat I got worked its way down to my kidneys, and as I started taking the antibiotics yesterday to make my throat feel better, it made my kidneys (and the awesome pain) even worse.

Sitting in the ER for 5+ hours with tubes and shit all over me is most definitely not my idea of fun. BUT - I have some awesome pictures to re-tell the tale with; I'll try and get them up tomorrow if I can find my little USB cord thing.

The shitty part about this whole ordeal has been finding myself unable to explain why I've felt the way I've felt, and having people all but laugh at me calling it nothing more than a "sore throat and a cold" or "what's the big deal about a fever?"

Well, the big deal is me being 8 to 12 hours away from my kidneys just giving up telling me to fuck off once and for all. Having my mom, who is normally a very pragmatic & practical 'walk it off you'll be fine' Mom - say in no uncertain terms "get to the hospital right now" when I asked her what I should do about the pain in my lower back.

Turns out she was right, and I wasn't making shit up or over-reacting at all.

----

I can't fucking sleep, still. Maybe I should've gotten those Vicodin afterall....bleh.

I still feel really, well...shitty. My whole body is stiff and sore, my pride only slightly damaged after having to shuffle down a very long hallway to the "special" bathroom that facilitates pee'ing in small cups in a not-designed-for-real-people gowns that are purposefully impossible to tie off.

No matter - the drawers were clean and the socks hole-free, so I shuffled onward.

The upside to the sweet gown - showing off the gams:

After that, Nurse Sam finally made an appearance, having explained that he and the on-call ER doc for the evening had been tied up with a heart attack. All in all, my situation could be worse after hearing that.

Nurse Sam then proceeded to put this in my arm, and not very gently:

Yeah, that'd be Skippy poking the PAIN BUTTON. Ow...quit it. Ow...quit it. Ow...quit it.

Big jerk.

However, I rallied back like a true rockstar...

And then...a lot of waiting. And pain.

More waiting. Pain.

Oooh...feeling kinda woozy again. Man I aced my leg pretty good when I ate shit on those concrete stairs. Hope no one was watching...fuckers.

Waiting.

Pain. Fucking hell that hurts. If you've never been punched or even poked real hard in the kidney area, I don't recommend it. It's by no means fun, and having a recurring cycle of that non-fun every 5 or minutes is like, the total opposite of fun.

This sucks.

Fuck.

2006-12-01T00:31:00.000-08:00

It's 12:30am Friday morning.

I feel like complete shit. Out of nowhere, my tonsils decided to swell up Tuesday evening, and I've been fighting pain, nausea and a 101 degree fever for the past 2+ days.

I barely made it home this morning, had to pull the car over not once but twice because I was shivering so badly that I lost sight of the road.

Haven't spoken to Amy since 8:00 this morning. I was supposed to watch the kids and drop them off at school this morning for her, but I was so sick, and so angry\disappointed for letting her down that i sat there, edge of the bed, shivering and sweating at the same time, wrapped in a blanket and cried for the better part of 20 minutes. I didnt know what else to do.

Have no insurance, so going to the doctor or even a walk-in clinic is out of the question. I did get some good advice from Tiah, however, and if this fever doesnt break by tomorrow I know where to go. I just dont know if I can get there.

First "real" week at the new gig has been stumped by horrible weather and me feeling even worse for two days straight.

My stomach feels like it has holes being burned through it. Can't manage to hold anything beyond water and hot tea down without puking. So much fun on the already-painful throat.

Im sitting here slowly typing this because my entire body hurts and I haven't managed more than an hour's sleep in a couple days.

I dont even know where to begin on what started out as a rather decent week, and the worst part is I havent felt this alone in a really long time.

Update:

So I finally heard from my dearest late, late last night, and her day was even more spectacular than mine. She fell nearly 10 feet off of a stage during a company photo shoot event, and if it hadn't been for someone breaking part of her fall, could very well have been seriously, seriously hurt. As it stands now, she has a fractured right elbow and will be in a sling and quite possibly a cast for the next 6-8 weeks. Bad enough, but I'm so thankful that it wasn't worse.

I so desperately want to go take care of her, but I don't know what I could possibly do. I have to go make an appearance at work, even if just for a couple hours and then maybe go find that clinic that Tiah mentioned, because I don't think I'm going to get healthy on my own. I want to tear my tonsils out of my head and just be done with it, but that's not going to help either, and to top it all off, it feels like the infection has turned itself into my left ear, so now I have an incredibly painful ear ache to contend with.

Man, fuck this week.

Update #2:

- Big thanks to everyone that sent in well-wishes to both me and Amy - it is greatly appreciated. I couldn't get an appt. over at the clinic Tiah offered up, so I'm going to hit the walk-in clinic here in Redmond and just bite the bullet I guess. Hoping they don't bend me over too badly with no insurance, but we'll see I guess.

I haven't heard from Amy yet...hoping she's at home sleeping and healing, but who knows for sure. I'll be sure to pass on the kind words if and when I do get to see her :)

No natural ingredients here...

2006-11-27T09:59:00.000-08:00

Man, what a weekend. If it weren't for a very, very comfortable bed and a very, very love-of-my-life someone being in it with me, I don't think I would have survived the great devouring of large bird festivities, but I did, and it was good.

Lemme break it down for you:

- Wednesday evening was spent....well, to be honest I don't really remember, but I do know that it involved some vodka and\or rum and varying degrees of stress, the least of which stemming from the impending doom of the "T-Minus 18 hours until Turkey Day with Crazy Family" countdown. I am forever thankful that hanging out with my family is so NOT stressful..I really felt bad for Amy, having to face that down, but like the bad mother-trucker that she is, she soldiered forward and managed to survive the Thursday to end all Thursdays. More on that later...

- MY Turkey Day started off relatively simple enough - Amy and the kids shuffled out of the house earlier in the morning, heading off to Mom's like beaten prisoners of war, dragging their feet through insurmountable bouts of 'I don't wanna go!'...my heart wept for all three of them, darnit.

I, on the other hand, had to make final preparations for the annual Orphans Thanksgiving down at Gary's in the U-District. The Orphans Thanksgiving may sound a little down-trodden, but it most certainly is not; essentially, it's a place for anyone that either doesn't have family around for the holiday, or doesn't WANT to have family around for the holiday. Either way, it's an excuse for all of us to hang out together, have some great food, and drink ourselves silly.

I was up for doing the deep-fried turkey again this year, and once again, I proved myself a culinary genius.

Well ok - to be honest, it's pretty hard to completely fail at deep-fried turkey, but I was rather proud of myself and how the big bird turned out. The whole thing got devoured inside of an hour too, so the meat-eaters in attendance seemed to agree on the quality of the thing. The anti-meat hippies did also provide some insanely good food as well; Shawn made the best biscuits I've ever tasted, and I'm from Texas so that's saying a lot; Keith whipped up some incredible mushroom gravy and the most interesting and tasty mix of mashed 'taters mixed with sweet potatoes...incredible.

Bizkit offered up the fresh cranberries and bread pudding, and Wes's jumbaliya (sp?) was amazing as always.

So all told, we ate ourselves completely retarded, and topped it off with Skippy's giant cooler full of jell-o shots in assorted flavors. I started to get extremely tired around 6'ish and decided it was time to roll on out, and I wasn't sure what Amy had planned for the evening. No, balls are NOT in the purse (yet) but we had been planning on getting out in the brisk 3am air of Black Friday and maybe snagging a gift or two for the kids on the cheap - as luck would have it, Amer's mom volunteered to quarter the kiddos for the night....hoo-fucking-ray!! So off to the bar we went, finding that the 'Shoe does have one redeeming quality - it was open on Thanksgiving!

We settled in, had our beers in hand, and I wanted to play pool. There was a couple on the table already, and as to be expected, Amy wandered right on over to them, struck up a conversation and before I knew it, we had two brand-new shiny friends\drinkin' buddies named Eddie and Ami with an 'I'.

Eddie and Ami with an 'I' were up from Portland for the holiday visiting friends and family, and they must've completely stumbled across the 'Shoe, as it is most certainly NOT the type of place you actually decide to go to, unless the following apply:

- you are or were an employee of BD&A
- your name's Buzz.

Either will do. As luck would have it, Eddie and Ami were both very punk\retro stylie, complete with badass tattoos and very skinny jeans. Both were originally from Philly and had that great east-coast Philly accent...it's not quite "Baah-ston" and not quite "New Yowk"...somewhere right in the middle and I could listen to them curse at the pool balls and their beers for hours.

As the evening progress, the super-rad Kelly arrived, albeit briefly since we had just discovered that the sign on the door to the 'Shoe did NOT read open from 6pm to 2am. No no. In fact, that '2' in question was a rather poorly drawn question mark, loading heavy on the confusion and several slightly-drunk bar patrons not wishing to have to leave at 11:20pm.

But, such is life. We headed up to Big Daddy's, which wasn't open much longer than the 'Shoe was, but it did give us time to have another drink, decompress from the Thanksgiving Day chaos, and hang out with Eddie and Ami with an 'I'.

Interesting side-note: turns out that Ami's father is none other than Randy "The Natural" Couture, one of the greatest MMA\UFC fighters ever. She even had their family name tattooed on her arm...how fucking cool is that? :)

Well into the evening, very tired, kind of drunk, the decompressing stages of the day's events starting to catch up with both of us, Amy and I had our first real "battle of bands" so to speak, and...well. Won't bore you with the details, but everything worked out, and proved yet again that the inane stress and chaos of the holiday season can take its toll on any and everyone no matter how hard you try and fight it. The ironic plot-point of note is that at roughly 5:30 Friday morning, both of us exhausted, she having just returned from a failed attempt at Black Friday consumerism...I felt even closer and more in love with her than ever before. It's a pretty retarded way to reach those kinds of milestones, I'll grant that - but sooner or later, the first 'big fight' is going to happen. There's no point in fighting the inevitable - what matters is how you survive it, and hopefully come out the other side with a clearer understanding and even more common ground than you had before...which is exactly what we did. Kind of trial by fire, I suppose. Either way, it reaffirmed just how strong my feelings are for that woman, even when she's being Ms. Crankypants. :)

- Friday morning, with slightly less than 4 hours of actual sleep, Amy was out the door again to gather up the children and hopefully spend a relaxing Friday off catching up on sleep, and I think she did just that (thankfully). I packed up my shit and headed to my mom's beach place up north to go hang out with my family who'd arrived cold and road-weary the evening prior. For those that haven't mushed through that particular trek, the drive from Spokanistan to Seattle is both mind-numbingly boring and excruciatingly painful at the exact same time. Their trip was worsened by the craptacular weather that we've had rolling through the passes, and Snoqualmie Pass was all kinds of fucked up by the time they hit that milestone. But, long shitty drive aside, they arrived in one piece and in good spirits, and when I arrived early Friday, Benny and Luke both had beer in-hand and big smiles.

Also in attendance was my sister Molly and her progeny Hayley, who just keeps getting cuter and smarter every time I see her. All told, we had a great Friday\Late T-Day gathering, and my third attempt (twice in as many days) at the Deep-Fried Turkey Project was a massive success yet again. I'm getting the whole art and science of deep-frying large quantities of poultry down pretty well, but I do need to work on the cajun rub a little more for next year. I think I went a little heavy on the cumin and cayenne pepper this last time around, but it still turned out really well.

After a lengthy battle of food-devouring, we all settled in for the afternoon, watching the waves splash up the breakwall, picking at leftovers and just enjoying each other's company. Later in the evening, as with any Pate holiday gathering, beer + food coma + brothers = feats of strength and stupidity, and Darby promises to send me the pictures ASAP. I've also got some pretty good video footage of the day's events, but I need to rip it from my phone and convert it to a slightly better format. It'll be worth the wait, I promise.

Later in the evening, I was just flat-out exhausted, given the combination of drink, great food, and having only slept 3-4 hours within the past 35 hour time frame. We were playing some Cranium game and I was literally falling asleep at the table, barely able to keep my eyes propped up. Normally I would've just crashed out there at Mom's, but having 5 other people there already, things were getting a little crowded as it was, and I desperately wanted to crawl into my own warm bed [aka The Optimus Prime], so I headed out for the evening.

- Saturday I slept in, and after slowly creeping back into the land of the living, I gathered up supplies and headed over to Amy's to spend the afternoon. Andy was in town for the weekend, having hauled a load of sugar to Tacoma and to spend Thanksgiving with family, so we got to hang out and help work on some chores for Amy while we were there.

What? You really think she'd let us get away with sitting around drinking beer all afternoon eh? Uh-huh.

So Andy was on cleaning duty while I repaired minor door issues and some furniture malfunctions, and Amy started prepping a beef & curry over jasmine rice dinner that just absolutely kicked ass. Ended the evening just hanging out and talking, saw Andy off to go see his friends in Seattle, and then got the kids to bed and we hunkered down and watched 'The Boondock Saints', which my dearest had never even heard of.

I know, I was just as shocked and appalled. But have no fear, the situation has been rectified.

- Sunday I headed back up to hang out with the family once more, thinking they might be able to push off for Spokane that afternoon. When I arrived, though, it turns out that the passes had been getting hammered with snow all weekend and they weren't going anywhere any time soon. So, calls were placed and arrangements made, and they all settled back in for another day\evening at Mom's.

My family's big on several things: we laugh, drink, smoke, eat\cook, and play games. Our usual games are things like Cranium, Scattergories and the like. Darby picked up two new games, both of which turned out to be incredibly fun.

The first and most enjoyable was CatchPhrase, the point of the game being a very charades\10,000 Pyramid kind of team game, where the little machine gives you a word or a phrase and you have to think of ways to get your team mates to guess it without saying any of the actual words. Insanely fun, especially with the likes of my brothers.

The other game was ImagineIF, another very fun game, but I think it was subject to not being as fun as CatchPhrase, so the shiny fun-ness was somewhat diluted.

Amidst our rollicking of beer, food and games, a massive weather system moved in from some deep wintery part of Hell itself, and it began snowing. Like, a lot. Watching it come down in big, slow puffballs of frozen driving doom, I figured it was time to hit the road or get snowed in myself, which truthfully wouldn't be a horrible thing, but a very beautiful woman and extremely warm and comfy bed sounded a great deal more appealing than sharing the floor with my brothers.

The snow came down in large billowing walls of white, and it wasn't sticking heavily to the roads, but enough that it made everyone nervous, and I never got out of 2nd gear the entire trip home from the beach to Woodinville. Doing most of my growing up in Spokompton, you just learn to deal with snow - shoveling it, driving in it, throwing it at your siblings as hard as you can. Here in Seattle, home of the "An SUV for Every Yuppie!" political agenda, you'd think the drivers and snow would get along in some fashion, but no no no. The mere sight of the stuff sent some folks into a complete panic, pulled off to the side of the freeway with their hazards blinking away. Not I, oh no. I'd survived driving through one of Utah's worst blizzards in the past 10 years, at 2am, while driving OUT of the worst road in the greater Grand Canyon\Mount Zion Nat'l Park on a one-lane road towing a 10' trailer. That's driving in the snow...this was just an excuse to power-brake around corners and rally the Blue Bomber in the Staples parking lot like I was back in high school.

I only wished that my brothers with me to properly snow-jog on the bumper of the car. :)

All told, great, great weekend...I hope everyone else's was as eventful and relatively safe as ours. Next stop: Christmas!

\\end

Destination: Awesome

2006-11-21T10:29:00.000-08:00

See? Do you see what happens to Der Bloggen when Andrew goes back to work?

Ok, yes - only a day or five off from making with the updates, but it's not like anyone really pays attention to this. Except you crazy cats in Thailand** - smooches!

**Yeah, you didn't think I was paying any attention to the site's traffic, did ya?**

So! Where are we here...I smell bullet points:

- At last recall, Kelly's birthday weekend was a smashing success, although I only heard of the corndog & french fry rally second-hand via Amy and the kids. Kelly herself actually relayed some very funny thoughts on birthdays, of which I share the very same perspective. Go hit up the LJ and enjoy the commentary.

- Kind of last minute notice, but I finally got to meet Amy's very good friend\former man-nanny (also known as a 'Manny'), Andy.

Now, up to that point late last week, my only knowledge of Andy the Manny was related in very funny anecdotals from Amy's vida loca, as it were. Still, I had no real preconceived notions about the guy, other than knowing that Amy cared about him greatly, and he stepped up and really helped her out when she needed it the most a while back (hence the Manny bit - at the request of Amy's brother, Andy was sent on a mission, one he knew he may not survive or return from with all digits\appendages intact).

The mission was to help her in any way he could, and at the time, Amy being single mom with kids in tow, full-time job, and all the in-betweens of the Life Pinata, The Manny was born of fire and chaos.

A tough assignment to be sure - it takes a certain type to not just get along with the kids, but to understand them and know how to work with them. Andy met that challenge and more, and, as Amy tells it, was truly a savior when she needed it the most in her life. He even managed to get locked out on the balcony for what I can only imagine as far too long, and yet, did NOT stuff Child A or B into the fridge once free of his patio prison sentence.

Because of all that, I knew that I was going to like the guy, and I wasn't wrong.

He recently became a long-haul trucker, and having just graduated from truck driving school somewhere in Montana, was going to be in town over the weekend, priming to make a delivery this Monday. Being last-minute is just sort of the way of Andy according to Amy, and sure - wrinkled our plans of a quiet weekend at home working on our projects and watching football, but I've quickly learned that, with Amy, the best-laid plans are merely wistful forethoughts rather than hard & fast action items. Which, truth be told, is a very, very good thing in my life.

So Andy rolled into town, found a place to park his 53 ft. trailer and we pretty much hung out all weekend and had a great time.
He's a really interesting guy, and a few beers into the evening on Saturday, we started throwing around some incredibly funny ideas for the screenplay, most of which I did manage to scribble down in some form or another. It was also fun to hear some of the related Amy stories from his perspective, and it was easy to see that he really did care about her and the kids...he's just one of those rare friends that will always come through for you when you need it the most in life, and him being a big part of Amy's recent history, it was an absolute pleasure getting to meet and hang out with him.

It was also a little litmus test for me to pass, whether I wanted it to be or not.

This was really the first opportunity for me to meet and interact with someone near and dear to Amy's life that was not a mutual friend, acquaintance or coworker. Andy and I were heading back to the house from Kent (the nearest truck stop we could locate that had the banking facilities he needed), and he said something to the effect of being 'very happy and glad that Amy found someone like [me]'...and that, well...

It meant a lot to me. Perhaps more than I had initially realized, but to receive the approval from someone that Amy loves and trusts like that - that was a big deal for me...for us, and I thanked him in kind for saying as much. Then he bought me lunch as thanks for driving him to Kent, and we returned to being not-gay guys grunting over football and smoking and drinking too much.

All told, another fine weekend, and very much what I needed to keep myself sane prior to starting back to work. I use the term work loosely at the moment, as I'm currently spending the next couple of days just immersing myself in as much data as I can find about my new project and related applications\products. The guy giving the training material is kind of bland, but in all honesty, this is the most useful online training material I've ever experienced. Kudos to whoever created Producer for MS PowerPoint...that app is friggin' cool.

- Almost forgot: Thanksgiving is just about upon us, and as such, it is only right that I provide to you (yes, even you in Thailand) my tried and tested deep-fried turkey recipe and preparation steps.

Now to preface this: if you've never experienced deep-fried turkey, then you have most certainly not lived a full and complete life to this point. If by some horrible twist of events, or the world just seems to be plottin' on you and cannot acquire even a sampling of what we refer to as the DFT (Deep-Fried Turkey), then please email me directly, get directions to where I'll be this coming Thursday\Turkey Day, and I will set aside a portion of my very own DFT...just for you. You.

Oh, looks like I've got some more reading to do here at work, so I'm going to relay the Do-It-Yourself DFT steps and recipes later today. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait.

ILY

\\end

It's all in the wrist.

2006-11-15T13:44:00.000-08:00

One day, months and months ago, trudging through another work week as per usual, a then-coworker suggested that several of us meet at a local watering hole for a beer. It was early on in the 'getting to know people at work' stage, and promises of a cold beer and some conversation sounded appealing to be sure.

One such person I met that particular night was Kelly, and at the time, my buddy Glenn had the very early stages of interest in her. With that in mind yet very low on the priority list of things to consider that evening, we hung out, enjoyed the imbibing of fine alcohol and bearing with crappy service (although the waitress that night meant well, I'm sure).

My pre-loaded knowledge of Kelly was via Glenn's briefing earlier that afternoon:

Have you seen that blonde chick that rides the rice-rocket over there? as we walked over to the other building.

No, I surely had not but my interest was certainly piqued, and sure enough, an almost-6 foot, smokin' hot blonde that rode a bike was outside smoking with us that night at the bar.

Now, for most of my career as a human bean, I've been naturally observant of others, always mentally taking notes on how people act, the things they say...more to get past the day-to-day facades we all present to the outside world and really see who and what that person is about. It didn't take long to see Kelly had quite a protective barrier around her, and as luck would have it, our little beer-after-work society would expound upon that very topic in the near future for reasons unknown to this very day.

But it didn't matter. I liked Kelly, and as much as I get the "pshaw - riiiiight" reaction when I say it wasn't because of the obvious Hot level. I mean yes, of course - she's beautiful, extremely intelligent, and has a comedic wit and playful sarcasm about her that rivals mine - but I had absolutely zero attraction. Sure, I was at the tail-end of a crash & burn relationship at the time, and I knew it, which probably helped place my perspective above that particular mindset. Whatever it was, I was perfectly happy getting to know the Kelly beyond that immediate set of circumstances. Over the course of months and more beer than I care to quantify, we shared stories, she talked about traveling abroad and the places she'd seen and the things she'd done. Collectively, we worked out issues, dealt with problems at work, and why men\women are such psychos, exasperated by the fact that we, the opposite sex, want them and their psychosis in our lives so badly.

The entire time, I was pulling for my boy Glenn, but it was early on in the foundation of the Slugger's Society that you could see she wasn't interested. It didn't matter much - we all managed to act like adults (most of the time), and we all still had a great time hanging out, eating greasy bar food, drinking too much, bitching about work, throwing darts and watching the bar life go by once or twice a week.

With that, varied and sparse runnings-into at work. A very fun but brief episode of kidnapping her beloved Victor (a tale for another day). One HELL of a day\night\morning in Vegas that saw dancing & drinking, a PG-13 strip-tease for a badass T-shirt, one limo and about six and half hours of my life that I just cannot recall...lost forever in the vastness of the Vegas nightlife.

Fast-forward quite a bit, and the Slugger's Society kind of went on hiatus, mainly because of the odd circumstances in which I met and fell dearly in love with Amy, I think. Even so, I still enjoyed the time spent with these people, and considered them friends in the dearest of sense of the word, even outside of work and social gatherings. Skip ahead further, and I've had the pleasure of hanging out with Kelly more, and the more I learn about her, read about her inner-musings (hurray LJ), the more endeared I become to her as a friend...someone I truly enjoy just being around, laughing with, and learning from. When I first started building this blog thing, I was thinking about who and what I wanted to share with the world, and she was one of the first that came to mind. It doesn't matter if you've never met Kelly or ever will, for that matter - read her LiveJournal for the mere enjoyment, perspective and comedy of it all. I stand by the fact that she and I were probably related in some former life, or at the very least, cut from the same bolt of cloth way back when. I think that's primarily why I find no base of attraction in the hot 6ft. blonde that kept spilling her drink on my bed.

Sure, you think about it for a second. But then...it'd be like kissing my sister.

Ew.

Besides, if it weren't for Kelly, I'd have never met Amy that one fateful Thursday night. For that, I will eternally be grateful to her, because I've never been happier.

So here we are, November 15th and the world should be celebrating the creation of this very special soul that is Kelly. I wish I had more to give, but at this point, all I have to offer is my thoughts and words here, and I hope she enjoys them.

I've been fortunate enough to have some very wonderful people in my life, and she is one of those at the top of that rather short list. Sure, there's plenty more to learn and share as we continue to build a friendship, and having a mutual project that we're both working on certainly helps. In a very matter-of-fact way, we barely know each other even now, but I still wanted to sit down and spend some time thinking about her, wish her a happy birthday in the only real, honest from-the-heart way I know how.

I write. That's what I do.

Love you, Snatchpatch. Congrats on surviving another year, and here's to many more.

Happy Birthday :)

//end.

The stars at night...

2006-11-13T11:23:00.000-08:00

Well, I had quite a bit of rumination to go through on this fine, fine Monday morning, but it's going to have to wait. Moms is not feeling well, and since I don't start back to work 'till the 20th, I've got no excuse to not go up to the beach and see how she's doing.

In light of that, it wouldn't be right if I didn't provide at least a half-hearted attempt to amuse you in some regard, even if briefly - enjoy!

---
TEXAS Chili Cook Off

Judge #3 was an inexperienced
Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL.

Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili
cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I
happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking for directions
to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the
other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that
spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the
tasting, so I accepted.”

Here are the scorecard notes from the event:

CHILI # 1 - MIKE’S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI…

Judge # 1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 (Frank) — Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could
remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the
flames out. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy.

CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN’S AFTERBURNER CHILI…

Judge # 1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 — Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken
seriously.

Judge # 3 — Keep this out of the reach of children. I’m not sure what
I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who
wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer
when they saw the look on my face.

CHILI # 3 - FRED’S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI…

Judge # 1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.

Judge # 2 — A bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge # 3 — Call the EPA. I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels
like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get
me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my
backbone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting shit-faced from
all of the beer.

CHILI # 4 - BUBBA’S BLACK MAGIC…

Judge # 1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish
or other mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable
to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer
maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-LB woman is
starting to look HOT…just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is
chili an aphrodisiac?

CHILI # 5 LISA’S LEGAL LIP REMOVER…

Judge # 1 — Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground,
adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must
admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 — My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and
I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me
needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that
her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from
bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if
I’m burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges
asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks

CHILI # 6 - VERA’S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY…!

Judge # 1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of
spices and peppers.

Judge # 2 — The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and
garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous,
sulfuric flames. I shit on myself when I farted and I’m worried it will
eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except
that Sally. Can’t feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a
snow cone.

CHILI # 7 - SUSAN’S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI..

Judge # 1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 — Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of
chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried
about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing
uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I
wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds
like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which
slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my
shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve
decided to stop breathing it’s too painful. Screw it; I’m not getting
any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the
4-inch hole in my stomach.

CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM’S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI…

Judge # 1 — The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too
bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild
nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted,
passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself.
Not sure if he’s going to make it. poor feller, wonder how he’d have
reacted to really hot chili?

Judge # 3 - No Report
---

//end.

Unspoken is never the answer...

2006-11-08T14:02:00.000-08:00

Life continues to amaze me. You'd think at this point in the game, surprises wouldn't be so...surprise-ey, right? But noooo no - Life is always looking for the punchline and I play right into it like a mark waiting to get duped by a street-corner game of 3-Card Monty.

Last evening, my dearest wanted to hit our usual weekday spot and grab a quick drink. Having had a pretty rough day, I knew things weren't totally kosher, but it seemed like she just didn't want to talk about it, which I understood. Eventually we did get into the cause of the crappy Monday, chatted it over while we enjoyed cold Coronas and the ever-sporty atmosphere of our beloved Slugger's. No worries, right?

Well, still. Something didn't seem right, and I just couldn't bring myself to think that it was anything positive. You know that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop? Well, that was what I was feeling then and there, especially given the conversation we'd had prior to ducking out for a cancer stick.

Ok, just relax. Either she's being frustrated by outside crap infringing on The Happiness, or you're about to get the 'hey let's be friends' speech. Gird your loins my friend - this may not end well.

I know I know. I do my very best to NOT be that glass-is-half-empty person, but sometimes it's just inevitable.

Deep breath and patience. Oh...here it comes.

And then she said it. Almost inaudibly, given our surroundings. But she said it, and I heard it...and. Well, let's just say it takes a lot to stun me into a complete stupified silence, but she'd pulled it off.

After recovering myself and letting things sink in a little, and by that I mean thank God for beer at-hand - well, I just couldn't stop smiling like a complete buffoon. Being mentally prepared for knowing that the person YOU love is not in the same place you are just yet - that's one thing. I had happily resigned myself to waiting patiently, knowing that when the time was right, she would know, I would know...and it would be a wonderful thing. Once you get yourself into that Waiting mode, pushing certain things to the background so they don't manifest as 'pressure' and cause problems, it's a hell of a thing when you get completely 180'd like that.
All I could really do was sit there, trying to hide my goofy ear-to-ear grinning...I grabbed her hand, looked right into those beautiful eyes and replied in kind, and I don't think I've stopped smiling since.

The most ironic and appropriate side-note of the evening was that it all took place at the very table, on the very same stools where we had first met, talked, got to know each other amidst games of pool, too many shots and throwing of cell phones. It seemed so fitting...like we'd managed to make it around that particular merry-go-round in one piece and found ourselves happier than we were when we started, and looking forward to the next big adventures in life - together. Falling in love with her...hell, that was the easy part. My test was and will remain being worthy of her love, and I fully intend to continue rising to that challenge :)

*sigh* I know it's silly, but I do lead a charmed little life, and I've never been quite this pleased with where Life's funny punchlines are taking me.

--------

Ok enough with the sappy kissy-face crap - make with the fun here, and I hope everyone is having a delightful Wednesday afternoon.

- Since I'm on Poor status for the next week or so, I haven't gotten to see Borat yet, but it's #1 on the list of things to waste money on in the very near future.

In the mean time, go watch the trailer, then enjoy Borat on Letterman:

There's plenty more of Borat fun -> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWflK8V1ERo

--

- Yes, I KNOW the YouTube-ry is getting out of hand, but someone *just* sent me this via Fark.com and it's brilliant:

Office Space: Recut

-

//end.

Tuesday: Supplemental Log

2006-11-07T14:55:00.000-08:00

- I've discovered a slight downside to subsisting primarily on cigarettes, bottled water and whatever Amy's next culinary adventure may present - none of my stuff fits anymore.

I guess that's not a bad thing overall, really. Thank goodness for belts. I was planning on going for a swim today and then recalled that they're resurfacing the pool - closed for the next week. So it's back to smoking, writing and bottled water for today.

- Now that the pressure is off (mostly) in the finding work realm, I seem to be getting even more calls and emails about my availability. Tooting my little horn for a moment, I am rather proud of myself for landing an incredibly sweet gig inside of a week. That notwithstanding, however, it's been quite interesting seeing what else is out there and fielding calls and job stuff continously. The way things are shaking out now, I have nothing but opportunity in front of me and it is good.

- Even though Amy didn't seem to think we made much progress, Kel-icovision and I were throwing ideas around left and right the entire night. If you bother to read any of these journal entries, you'll quickly note my thought process and style of presenting those thoughts...sporadic is the best I could hope for. Now imagine having to deal with double that, in person, and under the auspices of a gallon of very fine rum. My dear Amy's level of patience is, without question, incredible.

- From the Awesome™ logfiles:

"GET BACK TO WORK!!"

You tell'em Paul Sr.

- Follow-up: For those of you that read about it (and I really do love you for it - you're on the Christmas card list, promise) - I took everyone's advice and at roughly 4am on a Sunday morning, let it all go and shared my fears and feelings with her.

And you know what?

You guys were so right. And it's fucking awesome :)

- I had grand plans of working on some more CSS customization today, maybe even break out the Photoshop and start doing some artwork for this thing, but I just can't get into it today. I know I need to sort out the links, build some more tables...bleh.

- Lastly, I wish I could do stuff like this guy, Christophe Gilbert Warning: some content not safe for work.

//end.

Soundwaaaaaave....!!

2006-11-07T01:50:00.000-08:00

There are certain occassions where words just get in the way.

//end.

Where bad things happen...

2006-11-03T12:01:00.000-08:00

Not even really sure where to begin, and this day's just barely half-over.

My adventures in life thus far have been just that: adventures. Yeah sure, some have been more on the 'hey that wasn't fun at ALL' side than not, but that's life as we know it, and things could certainly and undeniably be worse. Figuring out the headache of bills and what to wear to a job interview pales in the stress-level comparison to things like getting shot at or wondering if you're home just got jihad'ed into oblivion.

Yeah, me and my problems? Not so much.

Thing is, I still have to deal with them, and that's the part I hate the most. I just want things to be smooth, simple. Not easy, mind you. Easy is boring. I don't mind the adventure and chaos by any stretch, but it's the mundane crap that wears me down.

Eh.

I'm still working towards retiring from this life by 40 and trading in this little plot of Internet real estate for a beach somewhere in Mexico. Once I get there, you'll never hear from me again, I can promise that.

So what else is going on....

Oh right right - from the Department of Supporting Like-Minded Individuals That Andrew Cares About:

- You, the fabulous readers that I also care about (mostly), may have seen this linked up in the corner there, where I claim that I'd gladly trade in an existing relative of mine to call Kelly family. One hell of a cool chick and seriously, who doesn't like hot blondes on motorcycles? I mean really...

- Exhibit B is none other than the fabulous Amy, who I've mentioned sparingly in past blogzorings only because, well...frankly, I'm a chickenshit.

Well ok that's not true (mostly). Wait yes it is. I am such a chickenshit that even thinking about what I'm about to write is making my gut twist up into little knots of anxiety.

But what the hell. No one actually reads this anyway, so what do I have to lose.

Months back, I had the pleasure of meeting Amy quite by accident. One storied Thursday afternoon, I was being pestered by a coworker to join him and what I would later learn was his blind date over at the Shoe for drinks. Without saying as much, I was being drafted as his wingman and after much arguing (i really was tired and just wanted to go home and sleep), I agreed to hang out for a bit. Besides, I wanted to meet this Amy chick anyway and maybe shoot some pool with Snatchpatch if she stopped by.

Super. So I rolled up to the Shoe, and as I was lighting a smoke, Glenn introduces me to Amy...and frankly, 'holy shit' is about the only way to sum it up, as crudely as that sounds.

Hot. Smokin' hot. Way to go Glenn! I was thinking to myself as we walked in to order liquor and enjoy the evening.

Long story short, Amy and I shot pool, talked, drank, then we moved the little party up to Slugger's where we had more pool to shoot, more liquor to drink, and more to talk about. We all got pretty slammed, and shortly thereafter Kelly bailed...then Glenn took off, so it was just me and Amy hanging out late into the evening.

Uh, what? Dude I thought you said this was Glenn's blind date?

Right you are sir, and yes, as intended wingman for the evening I certainly let my boy down, but it wasn't planned that way, and I certainly felt like a giant tool thereafter. But when you just hit it off with someone like that...what can you do?

Editor's note: Glenn and I chatted about the whole thing well afterwards and we're all good. Love the guy and wouldn't want to ever lose his friendship.

Fast-forward a ways through long phone conversations, ducking out for a beer on occassion between work and picking up kids, and here we are. Looking back over what feels like a really, really long time, 'tho I know it hasn't, I've had a lot to think about and process. Going through the end of a relationship and coming out the other side like you've walked on fire...I think that's helped me in so many ways, and provided me with such perspective on who I am, where I want to go in life, and how I treat people around me. I've told Amy numerous times - she's getting the best version of me that's ever been, due in large part to me finally paying attention to how badly I can fuck things up when I don't pay attention.

The greatest thing about her...well, ok..there are many, many great things about her, which is why I'm sitting here typing away like this. Of course she's stunningly beautiful, incredibly intelligent and just a downright good person - those are all top-shelf qualities on anyone's scorecard.

One of the biggest things that attracts me to her, though, is her incredible strength. She too, has walked that fire, moreso than you or I will ever know or have to suffer through...and yet, she keeps going, keeps smiling, keeps changing lives and pushing through the chaos that seems to surround her.

I find that will, that determination and strength...just incredible.

So, here we are, and why I'm a chickenshit.

How do you tell someone that you love them, without old scars and new fears completely washing away whatever strength and character you think you may posses? I wish I knew, because even now, given all my own adventures and shortcomings in life, and all the issues (she calls them 'red flags') that present themselves when involving myself with her...I keep coming back to the same conclusion.

I think about her when I wake up.
I think about her when I fall asleep.
She's on my mind all throughout the day.
I love listening to her snore.
I love teaching her things I know, and learning things she knows.
She inspires me to think big, and yes goddammit why NOT write a screenplay or start a business of my own?

She is all of those things, and so much more, that I have this unyielding need to just blurt it out whenever she's around - but I can't.

I am so afraid of knocking down that last little bit of my protective barrier.
I am so fucking scared of what she'll say, or better yet - WON'T say.

I am terrified of getting hurt again, losing her...and all because I may or may not be pushing things too fast.

So what the fuck do I do?

*sigh* I think I'm a pretty good guy...or at least trying to be. I know it's stupid and cliche, but man, I've already seen myself getting old with this woman, and having such stories to tell along the way. Sure, there are red flags everywhere - but I just don't care. I have and can deal with just about anything, and would suffer through whatever I had to to make her happy and prove that I'm worth it. Worth loving back.

Eh.

Anyone have any ideas on how I can maximize my "Hey Amy - I love you, and have been falling in love with you since the day I met you" and minimize my 'ohshitohshitohshitohshit' ratio...I'd be more than obliged.

Until then, have a great weekend kids.

//end.

It goes to 11.

2006-10-31T12:48:00.000-08:00

Sittin' waiting for a phone call, hungry and needs smokes, but I can't leave yet because I know as soon as I walk out the door and get into my car the phone's going to ring.

It's just the way of the world.

So, back to sitting here and waiting, which works out well in your favor because I happened across some fun mindless entertainment that you may or may not have seen yet. Or care about. Primarily the latter.

Shuttup.

First we make with the YouTube-ry:

Now, if you don't know anything about MC Chris, Kingdom Hearts, Resident Evil 4 or why Tony Soprano is in a coma, then..well. Ok. It's still fucking funny and if you didn't laugh then I've got nothing else for you.

Next we do a little flashback to my childhood:

"Wait..you really want to do this on your own. You are what video games are all about!"

- Oh, for more from these guys, you need to check out How It Should Have Ended.com, and really...I shouldn't be the one telling you these things. You should just know.

The creator of Dilbert figured out how to remap his brain.

- No, really...go read it.

One seriously badass DJ\composer, and right here in my hometown. Who'da known? Oh, if you're teh smrt like moi, you'll find his streaming media playlist for WinAmp, which will provide you with endless supply of Awesome and the rocking out therein.

And finally...

Because it IS Halloween afterall, here's what I'm going to just call the Baddest fucking pumpkin carvings ever. For reals.

Oh hey look at that - phone's ringing. Wish me luck kids.

hugs n' kisses

//end.

Can't think, no time.

2006-10-30T12:58:00.000-08:00

Instead, I offer this on this most glorious of Mondays: Fucking brilliant.

Mwahahah (milk comes out of nose)
br0kenrabbit says:
hi

Greg_ValveOLS says:
good evening

br0kenrabbit says:
What's ip?

br0kenrabbit says:
up?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
my name is greg a member of the valve online Support team

br0kenrabbit says:
On MSN?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
yes :)

br0kenrabbit says:
Why?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
we logged multiple ips from your account and ned to verifi your information

br0kenrabbit says:
My information?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
we believe someone may have stolen your account mmmm you havent shared youre account infomation with anyone have you?

br0kenrabbit says:
No. I don't even have it written down.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
hmmm maybe a keylogger on you r PC then maybe you need a format?

br0kenrabbit says:
Well...

Greg_ValveOLS says:
if you can verify your account information to me i can insure that only your ip have access to it Its a new security feature were trying because this happens so muchlogin names and passwords aint safe anymroe You know. L:)

br0kenrabbit says:
Well

Greg_ValveOLS says:
dont worry this connect it secure

br0kenrabbit says:
Can I be honest with you, Greg?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
k

br0kenrabbit says:
Look, I don't know how you go this MSN account name, don't really care, either.

br0kenrabbit says:
Unlike you, I DO work for Valve. Trace my ip and you'll see.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
huh?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
bs

br0kenrabbit says:
Trace it.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
how

br0kenrabbit says:
Start/run/cmd type Tracert and then my IP address and hit enter.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
oh k

br0kenrabbit says:
As an employee, I know that Valve employees will NEVER contact users over MSN. I also know a valve employee will NEVER ask a user for his/her username and password.

br0kenrabbit says:
I'm putting a temporary hold on your Steam account.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
why?

br0kenrabbit says:
Have you read the ToS?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
Tod?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
tos

br0kenrabbit says:
terms of service

Greg_ValveOLS says:
were?

br0kenrabbit says:
Greg, this is a serious infraction against the Tos. You are at risk of losing your account.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
why

br0kenrabbit says:
I just told you why

Greg_ValveOLS says:
:(

br0kenrabbit says:
I need some information from you if you want me to unlock you account. I'm going to write you up but I will only suspend you account for three days, since this is your first infraction, okay?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
k

br0kenrabbit says:
First, what is the name the account is registered to. Not the user name, the persons real name who created the account. This is for verification purposes.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
xxxxx xxxxxxx

br0kenrabbit says:
Is this you?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
ya

br0kenrabbit says:
Are you the only user of this account?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
ya

br0kenrabbit says:
Okay, and what is the username

Greg_ValveOLS says:
xxxxxxxx

br0kenrabbit says:
Okay.

br0kenrabbit says:
I see you have purchased a few of our games, thank you. :)

Greg_ValveOLS says:
some. dude

Greg_ValveOLS says:
m

br0kenrabbit says:
Do you always log on from the same IP?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
ya

br0kenrabbit says:
And who is your internet providers, your ISP?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
xxxxxxx

br0kenrabbit says:
Thank you. One moment, please, let me verify this information.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
am i gonna be bale to play 2nite?

br0kenrabbit says:
What is your city of residence?

br0kenrabbit says:
That depends on if you cooperate. You're doing fine so far.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
xxxxxx

br0kenrabbit says:
Illinios?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
yes

br0kenrabbit says:
Okay. And what is the password associated with this account?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
xxxxxxx

br0kenrabbit says:
Okay. Do not try to log into steam. If you are connected now you need to log off.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
why

br0kenrabbit says:
So I can update your account.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
can I play 2 nite

Greg_ValveOLS says:
clan fight

Greg_ValveOLS says:
wont win without me heh

br0kenrabbit says:
Heh. You'll have to wait a few minutes. Are you logged off?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
ya

br0kenrabbit says:
Okay. Give me just a moment.

br0kenrabbit says:
Try to log in now.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
k

Greg_ValveOLS says:
It says login failed wtf wtf!!@?

br0kenrabbit says:
Greg

Greg_ValveOLS says:
did u ban me???????????>WHY

br0kenrabbit says:
Greg

Greg_ValveOLS says:
what

br0kenrabbit says:
Valve will never ask for your username and password.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
what????

br0kenrabbit says:
I don't work for Valve dude, but you just got pwnt.

Greg_ValveOLS says:
omg dude wtf why?

br0kenrabbit says:
Why were you trying to steal my account?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
i wanst

br0kenrabbit says:
Then why were you asking for my information?

Greg_ValveOLS says:
i was just making a joke but not cerious honest dude just give
my acount back pllllleeease i'm only 13 and save d up for like a year to buy it

br0kenrabbit says:
Greg

Greg_ValveOLS says:
dude pleas

Greg_ValveOLS says:
what

br0kenrabbit says:
Go mow some yards, bitch.

//end.

What....really?

2006-10-22T00:24:00.000-07:00

Flash back 2..3 months ago, and had you'dve told me that I'd be sitting in my bedroom with the two other people that are here with me right now, having the conversation that we've been having pretty much all night, well...

I'd say you're out of your fucking mind.

The kids are up too late, watching movies and having a great time.

We're at least a fifth of very fine Ketel One vodka into the evening, and seriously.

No, seriously.

The food was amazing. Despite what she says, Amy's one hell of a cook and getting better every time she tries. Man I love that rice, baby.

The kids actually managed to behave themselves...so far, so good. They just finished watching 'Little Monsters', staring one very young Fred Savage. Loved that movie when I was a kid too.

We've managed to piece together what I think - and granted, I'm a little biased since I'm directly involved - is shaping up to be an incredibly fun and poignant screenplay.

So, back to the "no, seriously" moments. I dunno what it is, but having the ability and the sense enough to be around people that absolutly enlighten the joys of life just like tonight...well, that's something I would wish for everyone.

That and the fact that I managed to spell poignant right, given my current sobriety level.

Ok, back to my drink and the beautiful women that are currently employing Optimus Prime: The Bed, talking about the joys of the proper sex toy selection.

No...seriously. ;)

Guns and cigarrettes...

2006-10-13T08:12:00.000-07:00

My dad, being Texan through and through, grew up with a great love of the outdoors, hunting, fishing, camping…all that true redneck sort of stuff. Of course he handed that knowledge and compassion down to his progeny, and we grew up shooting, hunting, fishing and even learning survival skills should we ever get lost without a cell phone. My brother Ben and I got our first .22 rifles at the ripe age of 5 and 6…beautiful cherry wood, single-shot bolt action target rifles that I still wish I had to this very day.

Our pop taught us how to handle weapons of all shapes and sizes, from rifles, shotguns, handguns big and small, bows, and even slingshots just for the hell of it, and we were, and still are, pretty damn good shots to this day.

Anyway…my dad established a sort of tradition in our family. Every year around Thanksgiving weekend, he wasn't the type to sit at home and eat leftovers watching football. Nope, my dad was off on a three-day whitetail deer hunt, prime time during the rut when all the big bulls were out trying to get some female deer action before the coldest weather and snow hit for the year.

Up until I was 12 or so, we kid weren't allowed to go on those hunts with him - sure, he'd taken myself and my brothers out walking with him earlier in the season, mainly because the deer activity was much lower, and it gave my dad ample opportunity to teach us the finer details of spotting trails and tracks, reading "sign" and tracking the animal, setting up stands and blinds, even rattling and calling during the rut season. All wonderfully fun stuff for us at that age…like we were officially being introduced to the fabulous cash and prizes of Manhood waiting for us on the other side of puberty.

But this year, at the ripe age of 12, it was my turn to go on the big hunt with my dad and his buddies, and I even got to plan where I was going to hunt\set up blinds, carry my own gun, and if all went well…take my first deer! I was so excited I don't think I slept a wink for 2 days leading up to Thanksgiving weekend. I packed and re-packed my little backpack, waterproofed my boots, oiled and cleaned my brand new .30-30 Winchester lever-action rifle…no scope…real men shot with iron sites. The excitement of it all was almost too much for my little 12 year old self to handle, but I was ready for that hunt.

And then..finally. My dad roused me out of bed at 3:30 in the morning, but I was already dressed and ready to go, laying in the quiet dark, the smell of water repellent oil and gunpowder my stimulants. I hopped up and grabbed my gear, and we loaded up my dad's "work" truck, affectionately called Old Blue.

Blue was a '68 Chevy pickup, 3 on the tree old school. Badass truck, so bad that my dad his very best to completely destroy it over years' of overworked abuse. Blue hauled countless cords of firewood from our cabin back into town during the winter. She skidded and leveled old logging roads. She loaded brush to the burn piles as we cleared areas during the summer, and even hauled kids down the lake.

Our cabin is high up near the tip of a mid-size mountain overlooking Diamond Lake, north of Spokane. To get to our cabin, the road is nothing more than a very narrow, very sketchy logging road, and during the winter months, the sketch-level is multiplied by the snow and ruts gouged out by the melting\freezing\melting cycle. Now normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but that particular morning that would all change.

Now, I should make a slight note here, dear reader, that what I am about to describe to you is both shocking and a bit sad, especially if you are a car lover as I am.

My dad…he grew up in a different world, in a different time. See, where he comes from, the faster and easier it is to bag your limit for the season means all the more time available to do what you *really* want to do…sit around the fire, drink beer and tell fart jokes with your buddies. With that in mind, the standard Texas way of hunting circa 1945 was to load up the pickup with weapons, ammo, beer, chili and a spotlight and start driving around the back roads of the hill country until you managed to shoot something.

Yes I know. The legalities and unsportsmanlike notions are comedic.

Well as fathers are wanton to do, my dad decided that certain knowledge and history of said hunting 'practices' were ripe for the handing-down to his eager 12 year old boy. What he neglected to recall is that, in the state of Washington, all hunters wishing to do so legally with license in-hand are required to take a hunting and gun safety course…which deftly covered the immeasurable atrocities that road-hunting would bring to man and animal alike.

Well ok…it wasn't that dramatic, but it was clearly stated in my Hunter's Safety Manual that hunting and\or shooting from a vehicle, moving or otherwise was not only supremely dangerous and stupid, it was most certainly illegal.

Not wishing to question my father at such a time of important information-gathering, I said nary a word when we pulled off to the side of the access road as we neared our turn-off to get to the cabin. As he pulled Old Blue over and parked, he began fumbling around with something under the seat which turned out to be my much-cherished .30-30 Winchester lever-action with no scope!

"Dad…what are we doing here?", trying not to seem like I was questioning my student-teacher position.

"Welp," he said in his accustomed Southern drawl. "We're fixin' to get up on the loggin' road here, and it's early feedin' time for them deer."

"Ah…oh. Well isn't that not…right? They told us in class that drive-huntin' is illegal…" and before I could finish my thought, the distinct *click-CLACK* of the lever-action levering its action open on my rifle put a very certain and poignant close to my questioning.

"Eh this is just in case we see something'…then we'll get out and follow it, right?" said my dad. With that, I was content with the unfolding events, and my dad handed me a bullet to hold for said "just in case" moment, the chamber of the rifle sitting open between us on the bench seat of Old Blue.

As we started clambering up the logging road, the ruts and run-off made special effort to knock us and all our gear all over the place. I will always fondly revel in my dad's ability to balance a cup of coffee, light a cigarette, shift gears and steer a very old, very tired 3-on-the-tree, no power-steering truck up the 56 degree angled side of a mountain without batting an eye. Even now, I strive to have that perfect redneck Zen balance.

As I was hanging on for dear life on the bumpy ride up, my dad spotted what must have amounted to something furry and living as he abruptly stopped our forward-uphill progress. Before I had time to unpeel my face from the glovebox façade and collect my thoughts, my dad shut the truck off and killed the lights…the barely-noticeable light of dawn just beginning to creep up over the trees.

"Here git that shell in the gun…I think I saw somethin' yonder" he said through a large exhale of Winston 100 cigarette smoke.

Excited at the sudden possibility of getting right into the Hunt that morning, I one-upped my dad's command and dropped the .30 caliber bullet into the open breach and *click-CLAK* smoothly closed the lever, the rifle now primed and ready to fire.

Now, if you've never seen or handled a lever-action rifle, it's quite a piece of machinery. These are the very same rifles ever-present and popular in almost every Western cowboy Clint Eastwood movie ever made. They were easy to load, easy to clean, and had a shorter total length which made them perfect for mounting to saddles and long trail ride hunts, and they were wickedly accurate and dependable as hell. The most interesting feature of the .30-30 Winchester was that it was a hammer-action, meaning that when you pulled the trigger, a hammer much like that of a revolver fell to strike the firing pin and …well, you know the rest.

This hammer now posed quite a problem for my 12 year old mind and gloved hands. Whenever ever you locked the lever-action back, it cocked the hammer to a firing position, and to get back to a relatively safe position, you had to simultaneously squeeze the lever safety, hold the hammer with your thumb, and slowly pull the trigger, letting the hammer gently go back to a non-firing position.

Yeah. This posed a bit of a problem for me even in the most non-stressful of situations, sans gloves, cold, or my dad breathing smoke in my face waiting for me to get on with it so we could go kill stuff.

After what seemed an eternity of me staring wide-eyed at my very own, beloved rifle mocking me in desperation (which was just shy of 3.2 seconds), my dad solved all my anxiety with a very blunt "Here…lemme do it."

As I moved my hand away, my dad grabbed the handle and with that redneck Zen that I had known and admired, squeezed the lever safety and began dropping the hammer down.

To this day, all I can remember of the following 15-25 seconds was the unbelievable sensation of being trapped in a cloud, only it smelled vaguely like the cloud was made of gun powder and anti-freeze. I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything….I actually thought I was dead and was still traveling on to my next destination, wishing severely that I had gone to confession last weekend and fessed up to swiping that dollar from my mom's purse. I was bound for Hell and it smelled like anti-freeze….how ironic.

Slowly, like a bad movie of the week flashback, the cloud literally began to fade, and things started coming back into focus…hey, there's my dad….

…what the hell's he saying? …"..mmmthhbp…"

"WHAT DAD!??" I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!", I said.

"..mmmmthfkknn ooottt tthddrrrk….!" he echoed back severely.

We began rolling the windows down, fumbling our way through the remains of the cloud inside the cab of Old Blue. My ears were ringing like never before, and it took nearly 15 minutes and us just sitting and staring wide-eyed out the windshield to try and collect ourselves and verify that we were not, in fact, dead.

Turns out that the prior 15 minutes of muffled silence was in the best interest of my relatively-virgin age 12 ears, because my dad was weaving a tapestry of foul language that would've embarrassed the most brazen and\or drunken sailor of ill repute. When the fog in my head, eyes and ears began to clear, my dad and I both climbed out of the truck, the light of dawn now giving us a better idea of what had happened.

As we circled around the front of the truck, I noticed steam billowing out from under her front fenders. I ducked down and took a peek under the front of the truck, and sure enough, Blue was hemorrhaging anti-freeze all over the logging road. We walked back around and leaned into survey the damage on the inside of the truck, now that the cloud of instant heat from the rifle and anti-freeze had cleared out. As suspected, there was a still-sizzling hole the diameter of my thumb in the center floorboard of Blue, and my dad had managed to miss all mission-critical parts on the truck save a major coolant line that run to the heater core.

Still in silence, my dad and I stood at the front of Blue, watching her steam and drip in the middle of the woods in late November.

After 20 minutes or so of solemn quiet for the recently-injured, I turned and looked at my dad, his trademark Winston 100 cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. I couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling, so I just took a gamble.

"Dad?"

"Yeah boy."

"You killed Blue."

Dead silence as he took a long drag and blew it out the other corner of his mouth, trying desperately to hold back the laughter I could see in his eyes.

Without changing his glance, "Y'tell yer mother 'bout this, and yer next."

And with that, I've never laughed quite so hard in my life as I did the morning my dad killed Old Blue.

Serious business.

2006-10-09T16:01:00.000-07:00

Christ I suck at keeping this thing up to date. I mean really.

I've actually had a viable excuse, but only recently. Well, aside from work, work and more work - which I like, don't get me wrong - finally got to move out of that god-forsaken house and into a new place last week, and amidst that particular brand of chaos, everything else has been rather interesting and busy as well.

Work: entering into Q4 for the year, and break-fix mode doesn't even begin to cover it. My project list alone, just for the month of October, is just shy of fucking retarded, let alone all the other stuff that we're contending with this quarter. We've got expansion in China, two new offices opening up on the east coast, and a miriad of project work here at the homestead. So "busy" doesn't really do it justice, but it is what it is.

May be off to Atlanta and New Jersey towards the end of this month, which is both cool and a large pain in the butt at the exact same time. Our offices in China are doing well from the last report, but I may get to head overseas early next year to check things out, so that's nifty.

Non-work: The new place kicks so much ass it hurts. Finally got all the stuff packed, loaded and moved, and I shit you not - 8 full loads of crap hauled off to the dump and the Goodwill drop-station. It was super-awesome doing most of that alone too, lemme tell ya. But whatever. It's done and I'm fucking ecstatic about it, and the new joint is just perfect. It's brand new, it's clean and laid out nicely - I finally have counter space in the kitchen! Went out and spent way too much money on new gear for the place, each time with the full intention to 'just buy towels'...and yeah, I still haven't gotten those towels yet. But what I DID get is shiny new appliances and silveware and other stuff (went with metallic red as the color theme in the kitchen - looks so awesome), shiny new deep blue swag for the bathroom, and...oh, and the best part:

So, a little side-story here. Last weekend, me and Skippy were on Dump Run #5 and I got a call from my ex-wife's uncle Rick, who I was told, by her a few weeks prior, was now part-owner in a mattress liquidation store. Very cool, I've been meaning to start shopping around for a new bed anyway. Talked to Rick a week or so prior to the move and let him know I was in the market, but would have to revisit post-move time. So, en route to said waste transfer station, Rick calls and says he's got all kinds of deals for me and hey, we're right in his neighborhood if we wanna stop by and check stuff out.

Aces.

So the Skipper and I cruise on over to Rick's mattress joint to see what the old boy's got. We chit-chat, and I hint at my price range (which wasn't much), and let him kind of figure out a deal that we'd both be happy with. And yes, I did have cash. Hint hint nudge nudge. I can barter my face off when called upon.

We head over to the warehouse..area...where Rick's mid-project on a brand new mattress he'd just received that morning, and had it up on saw horses, ready for bagging and tagging as it were. I told him I was happy with queen-size, and that even though my shiny new 1-bedroom joint was freakin' big, size was still something to consider.

"Well, have you ever thought about a cal-king?"

"What the hell's a 'cal-king', Rick?"

He went on to give Skippy and myself the full spectrum tour of mattress sizes, shapes, depths and dimensions, and most importantly, the spacial differences between a King, an East Coast King, and a California King.

Now don't get me wrong: the bigger the bed, the bigger the Awesome...but I've never really envisioned myself the owner of a "king" classification in any regard. Just hasn't fallen under the budgetary\spacial concern, y'know?

According to Rick, the Cal-King is by and large the best mattress out there, since, by definition, the 'cal' demarcation indicates that the mattress is 72" wide (only a foot wider than a queen-size), but is 80" long, whereas your standard king or "east coast king", as it were, can be 80" by 84"...which is fucking huge.

"Well, that's interesting stuff Rick and god knows I'd love to be able to have a bed that massive and comfortable. What's this one retail for anyway?" as I point at the new one sitting on the saw horses in front of us.

"Oh, I just got this one. Costco and other first-run bedding places sell this one in the $3,000 range."

"Riiiight."

"Oh..*he chuckles*..Well, how much cash did you say you brought?"

"Well I didn't say..."

And before I couldn't finish my thought - "I'll give it to you right now for $300."

.... :|

..

"You're fucking kidding right, Rick?"

"No no no - seriously man, this is a great mattress."

"Yeah, no Rick I mean yes - of course it is. But...are you serious? You're gonna give me a three THOUSAND dollar mattress for a tenth of the cost?"

"Well....yeah. You said you needed a new bed, right? This is the best I got man - "

So, for whatever reason, I decided what the hell - why not see what else I can work in this deal. Rick ended up giving me this gigantor cal-king mattress, a new set of low-profile box springs and a new rail set for a grand total of $330, done and done. I couldn't believe how massive this thing was - it literally dwarfed Skippy's truck, and the damned thing weighs in at a solid 230 pounds, but good Christ on a three wheeler, I have never, ever slept on anything so comfortable in my life. Ever.

So, yeah. Now the proud of owner of the Optimus Prime of beds, I had to go get all new bedding and shit too (obviously!), and lemme tell ya, if you're currently sleeping on some weak-ass 200 thread count linen or flannel garbage, do yourself a favor and go get the real deal. Don't settle for anything less than 100% Egyptian cotton, 600 thread or higher.

For serious.

//a.

Random fun:

2006-09-06T17:37:00.000-07:00

I heart the Ministry, and frankly, you should too.

Click to Play

How much to shoot me in the face?

2006-09-06T15:57:00.000-07:00

I wish I had the presence of mind to actually sit down and write for a while, but between quitting smoking, a completely random head cold that decided to invade my sinuses roughly Sunday evening, and the usual stress of work, kid, packing and moving to a new place in a couple weeks....yeah. Oh, and there's plenty of good news, too, amidst all the snot and hacking up of lungs. I just can't do it any justice, feeling like I do at the moment. :|

Anyway, I did manage to locate my Last.fm infoez, so click it like your mom taught you how, download, install and bask in the goddamned magic of the intertron neighborhood:

New, new and more new...

2006-08-30T15:50:00.000-07:00

Yes it's been too long, once again, but a small side-project at work got my brain going on stylesheets and markup (all to make a goddamned background image appear in SharePoint)...so here we are. New blogz0r layout and mostly me farting around with CSS, and what the hell, I should be posting more anyway, and with more of the goooossfraaabaa that I've been incorporating into my life these days, all roads lead to Awesome.

I'll go on later about the 180 my life's taken over the past month, and no, it's not all aces as one would hope, but man, I can't complain much.

Oh and before I forget it as I'm prone to do: big ups to Thur Broeders and his badass templates over at http://thrbrtemplates.blogspot.com/ - I did some minor edits to his CSS, but must give credit where it's due.

More to come -

//end.

Vegas: tales of music, hookers, liquor and lightning.

2006-07-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

Ever been so friggin' tired that you actually feel amped and awake, but sort of in a daze?

That's me this very second, staring vaguely at the screen trying to convince my fingers to type something.

5 days in Vegas
2 surprisingly great bands
Free booze (total bottle count still being debated)
1 Limo
15 incredibly awesome friends/coworkers/sinners
1 intense lightning storm
1 hooker ***

...god I can't wait to go back.

More to come!!

//end.

*** Editor's Note: I should clarify - the hooker in question was a hysterically funny, drunken moment of comedy gold involving one coworker, a lotta booze, and what he THOUGHT was just a very friendly, attractive lady riding the escalator with us.

Please note: NO money was exchanged. NO sex was had. Plenty of laughing, however.

Quote of the night: "Dude I didn't know they were allowed INSIDE the casinos!"

//end.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

2006-07-19T18:33:00.000-07:00

Chapter 6...

Man what a day.

So, fairly standard day at work...buddies mention hitting Slugger's on the way out to grab a beer, and as I hear God laughing at me....the power goes out. I mean alllll the way out.

Both buildings are down. Oh, hey...the whole block is down.

What? The entirety of Woodinville is down?

Shiiiiiiiiiit.....

*sigh* Couple hours later, just after we got most of our non-critical systems offline to save some backup juice, and we started thinking about 'oh hey...what's our recovery plan if the Exchange SAN goes....?"

Shiiiiit again. Well, turns out that the power decided to come back on - woot. But our goddamn Barracuda decided it didn't want to power up anymore - fuck. Without the 'Cuda, mail goes nowhere - double fuck.

However, IT genius being what it is - problems solved for now, and I finally get home, sans beer, but whatever. I had a bathroom to clean and laundry to do anyway.

Oddity #2 for today: Sarah's at the house loading out some stuff to her car.

hmm...

You know it's strange; you think about certain situations and how things will play out or how you're going to act...but it never works out that way. I thought I'd get all twisted up over things, or feel that stupid empty-gut feeling again upon seeing her for the first time since a week and half ago.

I'll be honest: it was a little weird to see her finally, and actually talk for all of 2.5 minutes or so. I won't lie - I can feel as strong and as confident as ever for 23 hours a day, but there's that one collective hour or so where I really, really miss her. I know i know...that's probably not going to go away anytime soon, either, but what can ya do?

Anyway...at first, parking the car, I felt kinda odd - like hm..what am I supposed to do? Is she going to be all stand-offish and attitude, or just pretend like we haven't lived together for 3 years...that kinda thing? Fuck I dunno - get out of the car and let's see what happens.

And nothing happened. She got some of her stuff...got the mail and left me the mailbox key...seemed very tired and/or stressed, and I just quietly listened, tried to see past the odd little awkwardness...and just...I dunno...be ok with things.

And I was.

//end.

Monday, July 10, 2006

2006-07-19T18:32:00.000-07:00

Chapter 5...

Well, some things I've learned over the past week+ :

- Letting go of someone you love...or thought you loved...after almost 3 years, is not an easy thing to do. I honestly wish I could be one of those people that gets past things like this with an air of ease...like they've guarded themselves properly in case of emergency, y'know?

- I've been called lazy and callous, and by all rights, that's probably a fair statement, and one I wish to change whole-heartedly. But in some way, I think my callousness was actually my failed attempt at being one of those people mentioned above...'you're not going to hurt me because I won't let you'. Heh, yeah. Easier said than done, my lazy callousness or not.

- I tried ...but I just do NOT like Thai food. Although the thai iced coffee was fucking awesome.

- When I least expected it, I found I had some wonderful people around me...friends that listened, nodded their heads without judging or offering empty advice or taking sides. Just listened. For that I will always be thankful - I love you guys, and you know who you are.

- I still, and probably never will understand women.

- I really hate being stuck in this fucking house. I want to move forward with myself and my life, and I want to surround myself with a space that I feel comfortable in to do that moving forward...and I just can't right now.

- A week of general malaise and skittering the edge of depression which killed the appetite for anything other than iced tea and cigarrettes, coupled with a stretch of beautiful beach, great weather and intentions of getting my head and heart clear has led me to drop almost 10 pounds already. Awesome, but my favorite jeans won't stay up anymore...

- I'm going to Vegas in less than a week. Fuck. Yes.

- I'm looking forward to quitting smoking once and for all...got the itch to start training again. Anyone in the northern Seattle/Lynnwood'ish area know of a good muay thai gym, shoot me a message.

- My daughter turns 6 this Wednesday, and I can't begin to describe how proud I am of her.

- I love my family. As weird and dysfunctional as they are, I love them dearly.

- Zidane. Head-butt. Best Sportscenter highlight ever.

//end.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

2006-07-19T18:22:00.000-07:00

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Rules. We gotta have rules...

My interweb prowess being what it is, I have no source for these (by that I mean I caught it on a forum somewhere...). Could be Dane Cook quotes for all I fucking know, which in and of itself would elevate the Awesome™.

Either way, the truth is in the comedy, and vice versa (Oh, I added one of my very own at the bottom as well. Inspired). Enjoy!

New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.

New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?

New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.

New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.

New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket — water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule: Stop fucking with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time Grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole.

New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show."

New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.

New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.

New Rule: [and this one is long overdue] No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. Don't want to be featured on your website, dude. I just want to wash my hands.

New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place.

New Rule - When debating politics: The number of "-isms" used when debating politics is directly proportionate to the level of bullshit achieved, and can be quantified by the mathmatical expression of bullshit tonnage needed to power a small village in Indochina.

Oh snap.

Let's push things...forward.

2006-07-19T18:09:00.000-07:00

Time to consolidate the musings, and I prefer the inferface and non-interference of Das Bloggen over MySpace and LJ, etc...so there you are.

Stand by for posting barrage..

Growing up Gamer.

2005-09-21T15:11:00.000-07:00

A little nostalgia story I wrote up for the PA forums...

----
One summer, a family friend offered up her timeshare condo on the beach in Seaside, Oregon. My mom thought it'd be groovy to get away for awhile, so she packed up the kids and gear and we hit the beach for a month.

Now if you've never been to Seaside, it's a pretty standard tourist-trap beach resort place, but a bit slower-paced than some other summer spots along the coast. Big open beaches, decent waves, a boardwalk...plenty of fun for all involved. At night, downtown Seaside came alive. Shops, restaurants, street performers...any and everything available to snatch as much tourist money possible in a 6 block radius.

One night, my mom handed us $20 each and a 'don't come back for 2 hours' shoo out the door, and we took off down the boardwalk. Fried food, saltwater taffy, and cheaply-made toys from Taiwan greeted us along our way...until a faint, familiar sound made it's way to our finely-tuned child-consumer ears, and right then, all tourist trappings of Seaside, Oregon paled in comparison. The lights, the bells, the clu-clunk-rings of the pinball machines, the chatter of kids our age revelling in their pixel mastery.

The arcade.

Not just any arcade. A huge, open-air arcade that took over what seemed like entire city block, placed neatly at the very epicenter of ToursitVille, USA. It was glorious, and myself and my brothers each felt a small tear of happiness well up as we took it all in, give or take $60 between us. The world was ours!

We made our way through the establishment, taking in all the sights and sounds, scouting out the game selection as all seasoned arcade professionals SHOULD do:

Change machine - Check.
Soda machine - Check. Ooh sweet they have Jolt! (Jolt was big back in those days...)
Ticket redemption area - Check (Mental note to cruise the skee-ball alley later to collect forgotten tickets.)
Kiddie game area to avoid - Check. (Stupid kids. I got your Whack-a-Mole right here junior.)

Quarters gathered, caffienated beverages in hand, we made our way to the darkest corners of the arcade, where all the good games were stashed away. Operation Wolf, Street Fighter...they had it all, and in some cases, multiples just to keep the clientele happy.

As we meandered towards our destination, my brothers and I hit a wall of like-minded kids, all gawking in the same direction. We could hear whispers of 'Oh man did you SEE that move!?' and 'How did they make it look like real people!' and occassionally, for reasons we had not yet discovered, a huge pubescent roar of "Oooooh maaan!!"

Well dammit. What was the cause of all this? We had to know, and now. Shoving our way through the crowd of kids, we finally made our way close enough to see what all the excitement was about...and it was an experience I'll never forget.

Heads-up fighting. Amazing, realistic graphics. A booming, visceral announcer that called for the termination of the failed opponent, seemingly venting all his personal issues and therapy sessions with a simple "Finish him!!"

And the blood. Oh my my my....the blood.

Mortal Kombat had arrived, and we, three scroungy kids from Washington on some odd gaming god twist of fate, had been there the night of its unveiling.

It was incredible. All these fighters to choose from, and they all looked so real! Amazing moves, special attacks, combos, and the "Oh my GOD DID YOU SEE THAT!?" Fatalities. I had to get in there and play this new game. No, I needed to, like it was destiny or something equally silly at 14 years old.
After much struggling past the rest of the gore-struck kids, I managed to plunk my quarter on the cabinet rail above the controls. I was next in line, and the black kid who was currently manning Player 1 had easily demolished 5 challengers in a row since we'd arrived to watch.

Now, it should be known that our father taught us to play cards at a young age. It was just something we did for fun out camping or hunting, or during long road trips. Pops taught us the art of studying your oppponent...picking up the tell-tale signs of weakness, and how to stop giving ourselves away in the process. This has helped greatly over the years spent facing down quarter-dropping challengers in the arcade too. Silly, i know...but my 20 minute wait watching the other kids play that night was not ill-spent.

My brothers and I both whispered back and forth, picking up the special attack joystick movements and button combinations, each of us focusing on a particular character or two that caught our interests. I happened to like the ninja twins - Scorpion and Sub-Zero. Similar play styles, but distinctly different timing and combinations. Our Player 1 foe had only been using Liu Kang, and to noted great effect. How do we stop that fireball-flying kick combination!? His opponents left the area, shaking their heads in disbelief and slight awe at his prowess. He was also the first and ONLY player in the joint to pull off this Fatality move at the end of battle, and it was a sight to behold as Liu busted out the spin kick-uppercuts of death.

Finally, it was my turn to get in there and give it a try. The first round I knew would be a wash, as I got comfortable with the controls and attacks. Black kid who kicked ass with Liu Kang (who I later found out preferred to be called Jesse), smirked and shot me a sideways glance as he deftly whipped my ass in Round 1. But during that round, I got the stick movements down pat, and learned a Scorpion move by accident that no one else up to that point had pulled off. It was so fast that, at first, I didn't know what had happened - one swipe back and blip! Scorpion had disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the screen and earn me a face full of bicycle kick to end the first round.

Hmm...

Round 2....FIGHT!!

Jesse had gotten into a habit of predictable pattern, and I knew his opening moves would fireball-fireball-flying kick-bicycle kick, so I blocked the fireballs and, instead of blocking the kick, I whipped Scorpion's spear...thing...at Liu.

'Get over heeerre!!' Well goddamn, it worked! Blam! Uppercut!

Jesse was shaken. He'd never seen that before, and didn't know how to recover. Round 2 was mine.

Round 3...the tie-breaker.

Jesse had obviously learned from his previous mistakes, and his predicted opening pattern no longer existed. He started diving straight into me when I tried throwing my Spear, getting over it for a deft foot in the face-sweep-uppercut devastating pop-up combo. It seemed that in a matter of seconds, I would be another notch on Jesse's belt of arcade victims, but then...inspiration.

What if I tried that vanishing move that I found accidentally during the first round? What exactly does that do? Jesse jumped in, thinking that my joystick movements were tapping up another Spear, but no no....Shadowpunch! Gasps from the crowd behind us - it really WAS a special attack...and check THIS shit out - I can do it in the air too!

Jesse was sweating now. The final round of what could be the end of his Mortal Kombat reign that night, and this dumbass kid just learned a move that he'd never seen in battle.

35 seconds left in the round, and we each had roughly half-health left. Jesse's constant barrage of air and range attacks were slowly beating me down, so it was time to get creative. Spear ----> got him! Sweep - Uppercut- Shadowpunch - Shadowpunch YES!!

And then, just as I was feverishly trying to wind up another Shadowpunch, the screen went dark, Liu Kang was standing there in a daze, and I heard it ...."FINISH HIM!!"

It happened so fast, that my fumbling confusion in the middle of my newly-found Combo of Whupass presented the icing on the cake. My eyes wide open, the jaws behind me slack in awe as we watched Scorpion take off his mask to reveal that face of death and 'holy shit he just spit fire on Liu!!

I only managed to pull it off that one time that night, but Jesse, giving me a chuck on the shoulder and a "man that was awesome!', put his quarters on the deck to get back in and play. I wasn't about to tell anyone that it was a total accident, choosing instead to use my time in the rotation that night to play with all the other characters to see what could be done.

Even so, for that 3.5 minutes standing there amidst my arcade brethren, I was a gaming god, taking my turn in opening the treasure chest of new, fresh, pixelated violence that lay before us, beckoning our quarters.

Jesse and I became good friends after that night, spending whatever free time and what little money we had at the arcade, waiting patiently for our next round of Mortal Kombat. Even now, years later and barely keeping in touch, we still happily go back to that summer and the first time we saw Scorpion's skull barbecue Liu Kang.

Flawless victory.

Meat.

2005-08-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

Caught this on a forum I frequent and it just made me laugh...

Meat

Imagine if you will...

The leader of the Galactic Survey Unit #5 speaking to the Galactic Survey Commander via encrypted trans-dimensional light beam.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars."

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they're made out of meat."

"Maybe they're like the Orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take too long. Do you have any idea the life span of meat?"

"Spare me... Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the Weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads like the Weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there is a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat!"

"So... What does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you getting the picture?"

"Omigod... You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Finally, Yes. They are indeed made out meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"So what does the meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the universe, contact other sentients, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat?"

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. `Hello. Anyone out there? Anyone home?' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"

"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod... Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say?" `Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the universe."

"That's it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you have probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we can mark this sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The author is Terry Bisson, and his story originally appeared in OMNI Magazine. It was nominated for a Nebula Award. If you don't know what a Nebula Award is then you've missed some of the best reading in twelve galaxies.

It's certainly Monday

2005-05-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

I don't like Mondays.

I'm not aware of many that to, truth be told. It's not necessarily Monday's fault, really, being designated the sad bookend to a glorious 48 hours of not having to check email, answer questions, clock in clock out go to lunch try not to be late struggle to understand why you're here and not on a beach drinking Corona and winging your PDA at a dolphin's face. It's the Mondays of our lives that affirm that yes, we have in fact grown up, and yes...it sucks sometimes.

Such is life. Or so I'm told.

My weekend, as it were, was quite fun and relatively relaxing.

Noted as a "Taylor Weekend", whereas I have my daughter with me as per my Dad duty and joy, it started off well and ended well. Friday night we got home a bit late, had dinner and stayed up watching cartoons for a bit. Saturday morning, Sarah and I had to take the Tater to see her doctor. She's picked up some sort of rash that has a long medical term that I won't even begin to mangle. Taylor's always been a relatively relaxed child, thankfully, and going to the doctor's office is just another little adventure for her to experience. Now I'll admit, she does not having to get shots of any kind...and frankly, who does? But this trip was a smooth one. The doc checked out her rash, and put me at ease in explaining what it actually was, where it came from, and how to treat it.

Apparantly this type of rash...thing...is quite common with small children, and it turns out that it's actually a benign sort of virus that kids tend to pass around, much like chicken pox. The doctor explained the history of treatments which mainly involved digging out the little bumps with what equates to a melon baller/scalpel - right. No fun at all. Thankfully that's no longer a necessary treatment, as some wise folks have discovered that, if left alone for an undetermined amount of time, the rash...simply goes away.

It could take a couple weeks, months or even a year or two, but it does cure itself, more or less, and Taylor herself has told me that it doesn't hurt, itch or irritate...so, leave it alone we shall.

Part Duh...

So after the Adventures with Doctor, we headed off to my mom's beach house. I look forward to these visits for one simple reason: it's a quiet, beautifully relaxing beach. I go there and my brain, body and soul all heave a collective sigh of relaxation. It's also a great spot to let Taylor burn off some steam, and she's grown into quite the beach lover herself, just like her Pops.

A fun twist to this particular visit was not totally unexpected, but a bit uncertain. My grandmother (mom's mom) was staying the weekend with my mother, and well...ok, let me explain.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, my family started going off in different directions. I was the last one left in Spokanistan some years ago, and after finishing up school and accepting a job with MS, I headed off to Seattle. During my travels in life, I managed to all but ignore most of my extended family for some unknown reason. It wasn't out of animosity or bad feelings or anything, really. I was just 20-something and too wrapped up in my own self-serving life to write a letter to my grandparents now and then.

Sad, I know, but there's nothing I can do about it now. Thankfully, I've since done a little growing up between failing a marriage, raising a kid and struggling to just be a decent, productive human being, and I'm now beginning to truly understand and appreciate the importance of family. Family has so many meanings and values, different for all of us, and for me, it really just comes down to who I love and want to be near, protect, help, talk to...all of those things that we so often take for granted. We've never been your typical 4-bedroom, 2 bath, 2.5 children and a dog type of family...the Pates have never been "usual" in any regard, as far as I can tell. But y'know...that's ok with me. We do our best to love each other and watch our backs, and yes we DO fail from time to time, but I know that my brothers are out there and they can reach me...my sister is doing as well as she can...my mom is finally doing what she wants to do with her life...my daughter is safe, healthy and beautiful, and my own family - myself, Sarah, our stupid cats...we're doing ok too.

Anyway...little off track there.

In the ever-slight oddness of the Pate regime, my grandparents on both sides of the fence were the ringleaders. The Pate folks from the Texas side of life is a whooooole different story, for a different time. But my mom's parents - Michael and Elizabeth, who we (the kids) have always known as Lady and PapaBear - are unique in the grandest sense of the word.

Lady. She didn't want to be ear-marked as "old" by being called Mom or Mother, so....it was Lady. She wears a wig. She smokes menthol More cigarrettes. She used to drive a '69 VW Beetle like a bat out of hell. Again, there's a whole treasure chest of stories there, ones that I whole-heartedly intend to record here at some point in the future. Back to this past weekend...

I hadn't seen or spoken to Lady in roughly 7-8 years. I was in Texas when she fell ill and my mom, brothers and sister all caravaned to Seattle to take care of her. She had a stroke, has heart trouble...age is doing what it does best, it would seem. But, there she was, meeting her great-granddaughter for the first time.

Surreal doesn't even begin to describe it. All at once, I felt like I was 8 years old again, and my favorite grandma who I couldn't CALL Grandma was there, and I was about to start nosing around looking for her candy stash. And then, at the same time I felt very old, as the long years and missed correspondence caught up to me in one grand kick in the junk.
A very wide arc of emotion swept the stage there for about 20 minutes, as all these things started to sink in, and then wash away in a bit of relief. It was good to see her again, and it was wonderful to see her enjoy Taylor as much as she did. I'm very proud of my little progeny, and I was an extra-proud poppa when my grandmother took to her so well.
We spent the day enjoying the beach, and even the weather cooperated for most of the day. We all watched Taylor play, watched the crab boats come and go, watched the eagles fishing and screeching at each other. Even had a sea otter make an appearance, much to Taylor's excitement.

As it was, we had to leave a little earlier than expected. The weather started to change a bit, and since Lady's stroke, her energy and strength are not what they used to be, and she was quite tired and ready to crash out for a bit. Having a 5 year old running around can drain the strongest of wills regardless of who you are - trust me, I know...but I was really happy to see Lady in such a great mood, and to be honest, she seemed a lot healthier than I had expected. Her mood was great, and she sincerely seemed to enjoy our company. I was relieved and happy to finally have her meet Taylor and Sarah - sarah being extra-special since even my ex-wife never got to meet most of my family (see above for "many years of no family contact" stupidity).

Overall, we had a good time, and hell, it was only Saturday.

Sunday we headed off to the Seattle Aquarium which is always an adventure. Taylor and Sarah had a blast poking starfish and investigating sea urchins, and Dad hung back and took pictures. We toured the whole place and had a great time, ending the day by catching the Imax feature "Into the Deep", which is quite an experience, if not slightly painful. The Imax Dome is exactly as it sounds...a huge dome, and the movie itself is displayed across the entire front half of the dome roof. This is all cool and stuff, but the seats aren't exactly cineplex luxury, and you have to kind of crane your head back to catch everything on the screen.

Eh well. It was a fun little experience nonetheless, and we all had a good time tromping around. I'm sure there are pictures to be uploaded and such, but I'll let Sarah take care of that. Hell I may even see if I can convince her to share this whole blogging thing with me.

We shall see *evil chuckle*

Oh P.S.: Amidst all the Episode 3: Sith Ownz j00 hoopla, Kingdom of Heaven was a darn good movie for $7. Definitely worth a view on the big screen if you get the chance.

"I once fought for two days with an arrow in the testicles." ~ Godfrey

Yeah.

It's good. :)

Are we there yet, part 2.

2005-05-20T14:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, so i feel compelled to write a little. It's Friday afternoon, I'm worn out from a long week, etc etc. And today, for some mystical or lack-of-sleep reason, I decided to check out this whole blog thing.
No no, this is not my first foray into the medium. I think I still have a LiveJournal account floating around somewhere...but I never liked the interface, the tools sucked..and yeah, well. It just didn't groove.

So here we are. But who are "we"?
As far as I can tell, I'm writing to myself, so that's how it's going to be for now. There's no manly translation for "diary" in the English language, so we'll call this a journal of sorts. Random musings from a very inconsistent writer. Don't expect any more than that.

So far, I must say I'm impressed with this whole Blogger.com animal. Fluid design. Lots of options and tools. A verifiable 20-piece bucket of awesome that's readily giving me the warm n' fuzzies. Such that I may actually update on a regular basis. Maybe.

Anyway, there are so many things in life that really, really need MY personal exposition. There just aren't enough opinion-givers in this world, so I'm going to take the challenge, stand the post and shovel my useless crap all over the interwebs [insert irony!]. I can promise musings on games, technology, and how much I deeply and whole-heartedly hate stupid people and the stupid things they do.

It'll probably involve swearing, so it should be pretty cool.

All told, though, if you happen across this little plot of ether-land, staked out solely by a mind that has too many things to say and no desire to really say them...then I apologize heartily.

I blame it entirely on tight pants.

//a.

Are we there yet?

2005-05-20T13:52:00.000-07:00

A writer's get-out-of-laziness-free card. Welcome to blogging.

I hope this doesn't cause cancer or poor eyesight...or something.

//a.