I find it funny (and I do not mean that in a good way) how people care a great deal about the disabled. But if you're halfway there, in a kind of 'grey' area, they couldn't give two shits. You're just a whiner.
There seems to be an extremely fine line between 'disabled' and 'semi-disabled'.
I consider myself semi-disabled. You would not know it by watching me move around. I'm just damned good at hiding it for fear of embarrassment.
Every single fucking day of my life, I live with pain. My doctors (and yes, I've tried many at this point), either have the pass-the-buck attitude, or they have the attitude my place of employment has -- deal with it.
Two years ago, almost to the date, I suffered a crippling back injury that almost left my paralyzed. I went through therapy like I was supposed to, endured a 7 month wait before SOMEONE would give me an answer as to how I was progressing. Finally, at the end of 7 months, a neuro-surgeon told me I was 'healed' and brushed me off. I guess the fact that I'm not in a wheelchair discredits me. Now, before you dismiss this as a 'oh God, another whiner', hear me out, you fuckers.
I don't ask for the pain God has apparently bestowed upon me. When I get to work, I can either suffer in a pile of my own sweat all day (and be less productive than I could be, and draw the attention of others that don't know me very well), or I can take the lovely pain pills I've been given by my one of my doctors and stay gorked all day long (and be less productive than I could be). I dislike either of those choices. And people have/do already make fun of me for having a big obnoxiously loud turbine fan at my desk, which stays on constantly to keep the sweat off of me and from keeping the very same fun-pokers from having to whine about how much I stink.
Some mornings, I wake up feeling like I've been run over by a car or a train. That's the only way I can describe it. At least one day a week I roll out of bed, trying not to yell out in pain and wake my wife up. At least one day a week I think about calling into work because of it. The pain is the most blinding in the morning. I take plenty of vitamins and potassium, and I still get charlie horses in my legs about every other night, so if I get those, that gives my day a lovely head-start with uber-sore muscles. I don't have as good control over my bladder as I used to...I can't go more than an hour without having to take a leak now. Sometimes less than that. Some days my legs just hurt for no godamn reason...those days I sweat the most. And let us not forget/discount the back itself...some days I just can't sit still very long, I have to get up and move. And of course, I can't stand up very long/walk around very long, too. Boils down to -- can't stay in any permanent position for too long.
When I'm walking back to my desk, or just around the building in general, people smile at me and say hello. The best I can get out is a whispered "Hi" or "Hey", because I'm so out of breath from walking and in so much pain that's all I can muster. Having seen this once or twice, the office manager called me on the phone one day after I had called to tell her that something was wrong with a door on the building and asked me if anything was wrong, but I'm sure she was being quite cynical in her approach to me.
And I am having an extremely difficult time losing weight because I can't walk or ride an exercise bike longer than 15 minutes before my legs get weak and give out. You have NO idea what it's like feeling that sensation. I'm not talking about muscular strain, I'm talking about losing the POWER to move your fucking legs.
Due to the overall nature of my personality, it appears to me that some people think I'm making half this shit up and/or just whining about it. I'm literally this close to telling everyone to fuck off, whether they believe me or not.
To those people, I have this to say to you. YOU experience a severely herniated L5/S1 disc, deal with the initial pain from that, deal with the months of pain that follow, and the permanent problems it leaves you in physically afterwards, plus deal with how it ruins your overall life. Then see if you fare better than me.
When I was jobless, a certain parent of mine kept bitching me out for not having a job. I tried, in as serious a tone as I could, explain to him that I don't have certain basic motor functionality that most people take for granted these days, therefore I couldn't go for the jobs he was suggesting (retail, restaurant). His response was typical, telling me to 'cut the shit'. I'm literally at a point where I just want to strangle people like this. I don't know what it is I have done to make people treat me so disrespectfully when it comes to my limitations, but I do know I've HAD it with being called a liar.
My in-laws are no better. Another certain somebody on that side is bound and determined that I was healed after no more than a month of being injured (at which point I could not walk without the aid of a cane), but she like others seems to think that I'm just conniving and want attention.
The sad thing about all this is...I can't do anything about this anymore. Even if it could be proven that I need a discectomy, neither my wife's nor my crappy health insurance at work would pay for it (and yes, I've checked into it, for those who would call me out on not doing that).
Even if by some miracle I could get the surgery, it wouldn't bring back the permanently lost nerve conduction in my legs...nor would it allow me to lose weight. And to the doubters, you need to realize the weight gain WAS due to the fault of the long-term effects of the injury.
I know my new boss at work has been watching me, when I get up from my desk. Yes, I do go smoke, but I'm trying to quit smoking...the primary point of getting up is to go walk, to try and keep my legs working, and to get myself OUT of pain, 9 times out of 10...and I will continue to do so even after I quit smoking. And of course, to go to the bathroom. My eyes roll at the very thought of eventually being pulled aside and having to explain it to him, only to have him likely respond in the same way most people have responded to me in the past. Sooner or later, this guy's going to do it.
I don't know what the point is of this. I'm not seeking attention, not this time. No, this time I am venting, plain and simple. I want the opportunities to better my condition and my situation, but I'm not going to get it. I am not giving up seeking additional therapy or medical treatment for this, but the doubters in my life either don't think I need it, or don't care. Those are the lovely people this post is dedicated to.
Personally, I think it's only a matter of years, maybe ten or twenty, before I end up in a wheelchair permanently. Maybe at that time I will be treated with a little more respect by the doubters in my life.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
Noobs......
I hate noobs at work. The procedure for training them has classically (due to reasons beyond anyone's control) NOT changed.
They sit behind you, constantly, watching your every move. You can't even so much as occassionally joke with your boss over IM. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. :P
This one particular noob my boss is going to find out is quite the pushy type. He's been all over me and the other techs on my team for a 'shot' at learning by doing. Which is fine, for the most part, the nature of our work also dictates that one can only learn the real 'meat' of the job by doing. Telling them how to do it never serves half as well as actual experience.
There's a little problem with that, aside from our network being very secure, and our computers being our own. We, on the team, don't have time to let them screw around on our computers for hours. Used to be, we'd send them to someone else's box and they'de do it there. That's what I did. But we don't have stray computers floating around right now. So the situation is moving into a level of uncomfortableness for both us and the noobs that's about to make me want to yank every hair out of my head. There isn't much that management can do, so I don't blame them.
But back to this one noob. He's very pushy (and probably a little paranoid), basically wants someone to 'give' him his/her computer, and doesn't quite grasp the hint that we also have a job to do. I think in the end (once IT give them their own boxes), things will be fine, but I have been unable to stay relaxed and unstressed at work as a result of all this. If I can just get my blood pressure back down, things will be okay.
They sit behind you, constantly, watching your every move. You can't even so much as occassionally joke with your boss over IM. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. :P
This one particular noob my boss is going to find out is quite the pushy type. He's been all over me and the other techs on my team for a 'shot' at learning by doing. Which is fine, for the most part, the nature of our work also dictates that one can only learn the real 'meat' of the job by doing. Telling them how to do it never serves half as well as actual experience.
There's a little problem with that, aside from our network being very secure, and our computers being our own. We, on the team, don't have time to let them screw around on our computers for hours. Used to be, we'd send them to someone else's box and they'de do it there. That's what I did. But we don't have stray computers floating around right now. So the situation is moving into a level of uncomfortableness for both us and the noobs that's about to make me want to yank every hair out of my head. There isn't much that management can do, so I don't blame them.
But back to this one noob. He's very pushy (and probably a little paranoid), basically wants someone to 'give' him his/her computer, and doesn't quite grasp the hint that we also have a job to do. I think in the end (once IT give them their own boxes), things will be fine, but I have been unable to stay relaxed and unstressed at work as a result of all this. If I can just get my blood pressure back down, things will be okay.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Friendship Follies
Hmmm, what to say this week.
Oh, I know.
Do you ever find it funny how people whose lives are just so fucking peachy tend to be holier-than-thou about it when preaching to you about how to live your life and 'get over' your own problems?
I call these people 'ivory tower' people. They're so ready to judge you because golly gee whooptie dingle fuck, they've suddenly achieved something in their own life that you haven't... so as an 'intended' gesture of 'kindness', they begin rambling to you about how 'wrong' you are in your thinking and in living your life. Buy a car, a house, have a kid or two, and all of a sudden you too can be a judge.
It isn't as if you ever solicit these opinions from the ivory tower types, of course. Sometimes you may even be envious of what they have, but it is just a passing emotion. Most of the time you want people to just listen to you. But no, if they have it better than you, they feel the need to be PH.D.'s in fucking psychology. Oh, and if they're fundamentalist Xtians, you get an even bigger bonus of preaching. All of it is tantamount to telling you how to live your life.
But here's what gets me. It's when your own path in life may differ radically from their own, and their advice may indeed NOT be the answer you're searching for. Human nature and common sense tends to dictate that if we ever feel friendly advice is a good idea or not, so we either do it or do not. But back to the real barn-burner -- the ivory tower folks get SO upset if you either turn away their advice, say to them "I appreciate the advice, but I don't think I can do that", etc. It's suddenly their way or the highway, since they've taken the time to listen to you they think they suddenly own a piece of your godamn life and want you to abide by their rules. This is not the hallmark of a good friend, and that is dumbing it down as politely as possible.
Another good example of a personality like the one I am describing above -- you've probably known at least one friend like this in your lifetime, or known of one -- someone who goes on a major diet and suddenly loses a LOT of weight (50 pounds or greater), then they become the most annoying, pompous, self-righteous people you know.
I guess it goes back to one of my old addages -- which even though I made it up myself, is probably not original, it's common sense -- "There is a fine line between confidence and arrogance."
One of my closest friends tends to just listen, then say, "I'm sorry" or "I wish I knew what to tell you". Most ivory tower people do not understand that something along the lines of those two statements is usually more than enough.
No one can live my life for me. I do have my share of problems, but ... most of the time it's just comforting for someone else to listen, and hear me out. Nothing more. They can't absolve me from debt, improve my marriage, send me back to school or anything else. Only I can do that to my satisfaction.
If I ever forget where I came from, or those less fortunate than me in being judgmental of those who don't have it in life as good as I do in the future, I will simply just ask someone to shoot me and put me out of my misery.
Oh, I know.
Do you ever find it funny how people whose lives are just so fucking peachy tend to be holier-than-thou about it when preaching to you about how to live your life and 'get over' your own problems?
I call these people 'ivory tower' people. They're so ready to judge you because golly gee whooptie dingle fuck, they've suddenly achieved something in their own life that you haven't... so as an 'intended' gesture of 'kindness', they begin rambling to you about how 'wrong' you are in your thinking and in living your life. Buy a car, a house, have a kid or two, and all of a sudden you too can be a judge.
It isn't as if you ever solicit these opinions from the ivory tower types, of course. Sometimes you may even be envious of what they have, but it is just a passing emotion. Most of the time you want people to just listen to you. But no, if they have it better than you, they feel the need to be PH.D.'s in fucking psychology. Oh, and if they're fundamentalist Xtians, you get an even bigger bonus of preaching. All of it is tantamount to telling you how to live your life.
But here's what gets me. It's when your own path in life may differ radically from their own, and their advice may indeed NOT be the answer you're searching for. Human nature and common sense tends to dictate that if we ever feel friendly advice is a good idea or not, so we either do it or do not. But back to the real barn-burner -- the ivory tower folks get SO upset if you either turn away their advice, say to them "I appreciate the advice, but I don't think I can do that", etc. It's suddenly their way or the highway, since they've taken the time to listen to you they think they suddenly own a piece of your godamn life and want you to abide by their rules. This is not the hallmark of a good friend, and that is dumbing it down as politely as possible.
Another good example of a personality like the one I am describing above -- you've probably known at least one friend like this in your lifetime, or known of one -- someone who goes on a major diet and suddenly loses a LOT of weight (50 pounds or greater), then they become the most annoying, pompous, self-righteous people you know.
I guess it goes back to one of my old addages -- which even though I made it up myself, is probably not original, it's common sense -- "There is a fine line between confidence and arrogance."
One of my closest friends tends to just listen, then say, "I'm sorry" or "I wish I knew what to tell you". Most ivory tower people do not understand that something along the lines of those two statements is usually more than enough.
No one can live my life for me. I do have my share of problems, but ... most of the time it's just comforting for someone else to listen, and hear me out. Nothing more. They can't absolve me from debt, improve my marriage, send me back to school or anything else. Only I can do that to my satisfaction.
If I ever forget where I came from, or those less fortunate than me in being judgmental of those who don't have it in life as good as I do in the future, I will simply just ask someone to shoot me and put me out of my misery.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Today's Pet Peeve
From my old blog, a bit of ranting that I feel needs repeating...
In the spirit of Foamy the Squirrel, the cuffs are off.
I was reading an article recently about one of my favorite anime programs being attacked by a 'Soccer Mom'. I'm not even going to bother explaining what a 'Soccer Mom' is. It's become infamous among anime fans, boiling blood instantly at the mere mention of it.
The 'review' this person apparently graced us with was about Gainax Ltd. Production, FLCL.
The 'review' was nothing short of an all-out flame.
Ughhh...I don't even know if I can get through this without typing a bunch of gibberish. But I will trod on as best I can, and try to make my point.
I'm not going to make justifications for myself as an anime fan anymore than someone who reads comic books incessantly. Or someone who watches ER religiously. Or someone who buys the Harry Potter books at midnight on the day that they are released.
I like Anime. Get over it. If you don't, then that's fine. But you know what? You don't have to watch it.
These 'Moms' who have so much apparent time to whine on the internet about things like this really need to get a life. Or, how about doing their jobs as full-time parents? I can't imagine most of them being more than housewives. And before you go spouting, "Oh you don't know what it's like, you're obviously not a p-", I want you to hear my one single word in response to that rubbish.
STOP.
First of all, I AM a full time parent. So stow that line of crap for somebody else.
The anime industry is unfortunately huge, and the more popular something becomes, the more it is prone to attacks by people who don't understand it. It seems the societal norm these days to attack what one does not understand or does not want to understand.
This norm of attacking something popular is never going to end. To the fans of FLCL and most mainstream anime, I say to you, ignore this woman. Anime is too big an industry, benefiting both American and Japanese entertainment industries, and it makes a lot of money. As long as it's profitable, Americans will consume it.
True, there are animes I have seen that have no intrinsic volume that are geared more towards kids. I don't watch those out of principle. I also why away greatly from any 'Hentai'. FLCL is neither. It's right there in the 'middle'. And it's a great show, no matter what you 'concerned Moms' out there think.
I would be willing to wager this soccer mom fits the classic bill of a parent. All spoiling and no discipline in her child's life...not wanting to accept responsibility. I blame this on psychologists of one and two decades ago, who said it's morally unjust to spank a child. Granted NOT all children need it, but at the same time, every child is different.
This doesn't boil down to an anime, folks. Anime is but one facet of popular media that is being attacked.
What this boils down to...is lazy parents. Parents who will not take any of the blame for what their child does, but try to blame everyone else first. Anything their child does that they consider 'bad', they don't confront the child in full detail first...they start with the schools, television, you name it. Anything but the child itself. Oh, and the parent themselves are the last people they blame.
Meanwhile, while the parent searches for the 'cause' of the child's behavior, the child goes on to continue doing the things it ought'nt to be doing. Things like television continue to do the parents' babysitting.
Now, make no mistake here. With kidnappers, pedophiles and all kinds of other crazy people out there, children DO need protection by the elements of society that protect them from predators.
But, in the process of our nation becoming overly paranoid about the welfare of our children, we have forgotten something. Or rather, we have belittled something. And that is that children are more resilient and more intelligent than we give them credit for.
Parents don't want to talk to their kids about anything in the outside world that might be 'bad'. I hear it all the time from people. "How do I? My child heard a naughty word from another friend in school, how do I talk to them about it? I might say the wrong thing and they might investigate the source of the profane word anyway!"
Why are parents either too lazy or too paranoid to be more proactive in their childrens' lives? Two reasons: The first one I've already mentioned. Various forms of discipline are being done away with. Spanking is already gone. By your children's time from the date that I write this, spanking will be considered illegal. It is already frowned upon in public places, and kudos to those parents who feel their child needs a spanking in a public store. But you are fighting an uphill battle. The second reason is that previous generations of lazy parents already started the ball rolling to what we have today. It's so much easier to just let society take care of your child, while you reap only the positive benefits of being a parent. And I'm sorry, but cooking for them and cleaning up after them takes a back seat to taking a proactive role in their lives...from school, to home life, to what they do when they're old enough to go visit a friend's house on their own.
I once was in a Wal-Mart, looking for a copy of a Gameboy game my son had wanted for some time. Yes, my son is 8, and yes, I allow him to play video games. Get over it. I LIMIT his game time on an hourly basis. But back to my story. Next to me, I observed a hispanic male with a little boy of his own, but this child couldn't have been more than 4-6 years of age. This child was hopping up and down, excited about something behind that locked cabinet. The male, seemingly looking like he just wanted to take care of business and just get out of there (probably missing a Sunday football game for this, oh the horror), proceeded to call the video game attendant over. The copy of the game that was pulled out and handed to the waiting, excited child was Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Now, if this parent were truly responsible, which I doubt, he would likely have not allowed the child to have such a game. By the bored look on the parent's face, I would wager a guess he had no idea what the game was about. But who is responsible for this? It sure as hell isn't Rockstar's fault. It's the fault of the ignorant parent who had the Sales Associate hand this child the game. This is yet another example of the parental laziness I am talking about. Even the Sales Associate had a look on her poor face that read: "Oh GOD. WHY are you allowing this kid to play this game? Oh well, your business." Naturally, it is his business, and not mine. Or the Sales Associates. Nor anyone else's at Wal-Mart that day. But if this kid gets a bad impression from the game, will this guy go on and sue Wal-Mart or Rockstar for selling the game to him for his kid?
It's just this kind of apathetic idiocy that boggles the mind, and turns the stomach.
Other examples are more simple, really. Parents with kids at the checkout, who run all over the place, uncontrolled, trying their best to wage hell in a store by getting attention in the most animalistic ways. Knocking down display stands, harassing other customers also standing in line waiting to be checked out, even harassing the parent. The parent's typical response to this kind of inexcusable public behavior? They either pretend the child is doing nothing wrong, they get a look on their face as if they might, maybe, possibly should do something but don't...or ...they call out to the child to 'behave', and are completely ignored. But all of them, when they are at the checkout getting checked out, simply pretend the child isn't there while the transaction is taking place. And you can see in the eyes of everyone waiting in line ... the uncomfortable glares from the unfortunate souls who had to share a checkout line with this 'joy' of a child ...the restrained look on their faces. The need, the desire to say something to the idiot parent, but cannot. And then when parent and child depart, everyone behind them heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.
As long as this kind of nonsense continues, our children are simply going to get worse and worse. Yet, a 'Soccer Mom' is complaining that programs like FLCL are a biiiig problem. Please.
I envision (laugh at it all you like, but based on what's going on in classrooms today, I believe it) a future where a parent is just sitting, in a living room, arms folded at his/her side, while the kids run roughshod ALL over the house, kicking things over, breaking things, completely in charge of the household, for all intents and purposes...doing this because the government strips away the power of a parent to discipline their kid.
My own son I don't spank. But I don't need to. Because I am proactive in his life. Because I talk to him. Because discipline is based upon when he does something wrong and I let him know he has disappointed me. That is his punishment. But gosh, will that be made illegal in the future too? Don't put it past extremist government lobbying groups.
I leave you on this blog with some more food for thought.
Remember when adults used to run this country?
In the spirit of Foamy the Squirrel, the cuffs are off.
I was reading an article recently about one of my favorite anime programs being attacked by a 'Soccer Mom'. I'm not even going to bother explaining what a 'Soccer Mom' is. It's become infamous among anime fans, boiling blood instantly at the mere mention of it.
The 'review' this person apparently graced us with was about Gainax Ltd. Production, FLCL.
The 'review' was nothing short of an all-out flame.
Ughhh...I don't even know if I can get through this without typing a bunch of gibberish. But I will trod on as best I can, and try to make my point.
I'm not going to make justifications for myself as an anime fan anymore than someone who reads comic books incessantly. Or someone who watches ER religiously. Or someone who buys the Harry Potter books at midnight on the day that they are released.
I like Anime. Get over it. If you don't, then that's fine. But you know what? You don't have to watch it.
These 'Moms' who have so much apparent time to whine on the internet about things like this really need to get a life. Or, how about doing their jobs as full-time parents? I can't imagine most of them being more than housewives. And before you go spouting, "Oh you don't know what it's like, you're obviously not a p-", I want you to hear my one single word in response to that rubbish.
STOP.
First of all, I AM a full time parent. So stow that line of crap for somebody else.
The anime industry is unfortunately huge, and the more popular something becomes, the more it is prone to attacks by people who don't understand it. It seems the societal norm these days to attack what one does not understand or does not want to understand.
This norm of attacking something popular is never going to end. To the fans of FLCL and most mainstream anime, I say to you, ignore this woman. Anime is too big an industry, benefiting both American and Japanese entertainment industries, and it makes a lot of money. As long as it's profitable, Americans will consume it.
True, there are animes I have seen that have no intrinsic volume that are geared more towards kids. I don't watch those out of principle. I also why away greatly from any 'Hentai'. FLCL is neither. It's right there in the 'middle'. And it's a great show, no matter what you 'concerned Moms' out there think.
I would be willing to wager this soccer mom fits the classic bill of a parent. All spoiling and no discipline in her child's life...not wanting to accept responsibility. I blame this on psychologists of one and two decades ago, who said it's morally unjust to spank a child. Granted NOT all children need it, but at the same time, every child is different.
This doesn't boil down to an anime, folks. Anime is but one facet of popular media that is being attacked.
What this boils down to...is lazy parents. Parents who will not take any of the blame for what their child does, but try to blame everyone else first. Anything their child does that they consider 'bad', they don't confront the child in full detail first...they start with the schools, television, you name it. Anything but the child itself. Oh, and the parent themselves are the last people they blame.
Meanwhile, while the parent searches for the 'cause' of the child's behavior, the child goes on to continue doing the things it ought'nt to be doing. Things like television continue to do the parents' babysitting.
Now, make no mistake here. With kidnappers, pedophiles and all kinds of other crazy people out there, children DO need protection by the elements of society that protect them from predators.
But, in the process of our nation becoming overly paranoid about the welfare of our children, we have forgotten something. Or rather, we have belittled something. And that is that children are more resilient and more intelligent than we give them credit for.
Parents don't want to talk to their kids about anything in the outside world that might be 'bad'. I hear it all the time from people. "How do I? My child heard a naughty word from another friend in school, how do I talk to them about it? I might say the wrong thing and they might investigate the source of the profane word anyway!"
Why are parents either too lazy or too paranoid to be more proactive in their childrens' lives? Two reasons: The first one I've already mentioned. Various forms of discipline are being done away with. Spanking is already gone. By your children's time from the date that I write this, spanking will be considered illegal. It is already frowned upon in public places, and kudos to those parents who feel their child needs a spanking in a public store. But you are fighting an uphill battle. The second reason is that previous generations of lazy parents already started the ball rolling to what we have today. It's so much easier to just let society take care of your child, while you reap only the positive benefits of being a parent. And I'm sorry, but cooking for them and cleaning up after them takes a back seat to taking a proactive role in their lives...from school, to home life, to what they do when they're old enough to go visit a friend's house on their own.
I once was in a Wal-Mart, looking for a copy of a Gameboy game my son had wanted for some time. Yes, my son is 8, and yes, I allow him to play video games. Get over it. I LIMIT his game time on an hourly basis. But back to my story. Next to me, I observed a hispanic male with a little boy of his own, but this child couldn't have been more than 4-6 years of age. This child was hopping up and down, excited about something behind that locked cabinet. The male, seemingly looking like he just wanted to take care of business and just get out of there (probably missing a Sunday football game for this, oh the horror), proceeded to call the video game attendant over. The copy of the game that was pulled out and handed to the waiting, excited child was Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Now, if this parent were truly responsible, which I doubt, he would likely have not allowed the child to have such a game. By the bored look on the parent's face, I would wager a guess he had no idea what the game was about. But who is responsible for this? It sure as hell isn't Rockstar's fault. It's the fault of the ignorant parent who had the Sales Associate hand this child the game. This is yet another example of the parental laziness I am talking about. Even the Sales Associate had a look on her poor face that read: "Oh GOD. WHY are you allowing this kid to play this game? Oh well, your business." Naturally, it is his business, and not mine. Or the Sales Associates. Nor anyone else's at Wal-Mart that day. But if this kid gets a bad impression from the game, will this guy go on and sue Wal-Mart or Rockstar for selling the game to him for his kid?
It's just this kind of apathetic idiocy that boggles the mind, and turns the stomach.
Other examples are more simple, really. Parents with kids at the checkout, who run all over the place, uncontrolled, trying their best to wage hell in a store by getting attention in the most animalistic ways. Knocking down display stands, harassing other customers also standing in line waiting to be checked out, even harassing the parent. The parent's typical response to this kind of inexcusable public behavior? They either pretend the child is doing nothing wrong, they get a look on their face as if they might, maybe, possibly should do something but don't...or ...they call out to the child to 'behave', and are completely ignored. But all of them, when they are at the checkout getting checked out, simply pretend the child isn't there while the transaction is taking place. And you can see in the eyes of everyone waiting in line ... the uncomfortable glares from the unfortunate souls who had to share a checkout line with this 'joy' of a child ...the restrained look on their faces. The need, the desire to say something to the idiot parent, but cannot. And then when parent and child depart, everyone behind them heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.
As long as this kind of nonsense continues, our children are simply going to get worse and worse. Yet, a 'Soccer Mom' is complaining that programs like FLCL are a biiiig problem. Please.
I envision (laugh at it all you like, but based on what's going on in classrooms today, I believe it) a future where a parent is just sitting, in a living room, arms folded at his/her side, while the kids run roughshod ALL over the house, kicking things over, breaking things, completely in charge of the household, for all intents and purposes...doing this because the government strips away the power of a parent to discipline their kid.
My own son I don't spank. But I don't need to. Because I am proactive in his life. Because I talk to him. Because discipline is based upon when he does something wrong and I let him know he has disappointed me. That is his punishment. But gosh, will that be made illegal in the future too? Don't put it past extremist government lobbying groups.
I leave you on this blog with some more food for thought.
Remember when adults used to run this country?
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Wednesday's Tribute
I think I'm gonna do a tribute to something that, good or bad, impacts me profoundly or has impacted me profoundly in the past. Or maybe even the future.
Today's tribute....
HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....*SNORT*
http://www.tvparty.com/lostgig.html
Whether you were in the mood to watch it or not, you watched it anyway.
You also watched it because there was usually nothing else on.
And you remember every single bit of it.....the puppets still give me nightmares. Especially Blob.
Today's tribute....
HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....*SNORT*
http://www.tvparty.com/lostgig.html
Whether you were in the mood to watch it or not, you watched it anyway.
You also watched it because there was usually nothing else on.
And you remember every single bit of it.....the puppets still give me nightmares. Especially Blob.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Sci Fi Quiz
 | You scored as Deep Space Nine (Star Trek). You have entered the dark side of the Star Trek universe. The paradise of Earth is far from you and you must survive despite having enemies on all fronts. But you wouldn�t have it any other way because you thrive in conflict and will know what needs to be done to take care of those around you. Now if only the Founders would quit trying to take over the galaxy.
Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics) created with QuizFarm.com |
Monday, February 13, 2006
In Tribute...
After a tumultuous first day at work (one of my sups I'm determined has it in for me)...
I come across this.
http://www.ksdsusa.com/tribute_to_our_grand_master_rich.htm
To you, this doesn't mean much.
To me, this is my Master.
Ten years ago, when my body was far less culled by hauling crap around for everyone and their grandmother (because they think big guys = strong), I was a student of the Kajukembo martial arts defense class. Kajukembo -- though I will not bore you with miniscule details -- is a combined art of several well-known martial arts, developed in Hawaii in the 1930s by several masters of each art. My Master was trained under one of the founders directly.
This man was the key to it. Normally I'd turn away from this kind of discipline, but this man was someone I idolized. He was very benign and kind, almost fatherly...until you stepped onto the mat for a day of training.
I don't speak of this man much, because I am ashamed to admit that I fell out of favor with his class due to a problem with one of my friends who was also attending. In short, they paired us up to spar, and my friend, being cocky and competitive, took a couple of roundhouse shots at my eye. I had to hold myself back and was no longer fighting in proper form...I wanted to kick his ass from here to hell during that incident. But much like a Jedi, we were taught never to hate during a fight.
Anyway back to my Master. Richard was an 8th degree black belt. VERY few people in the world held a rank higher than he did that were still actively teaching at the time. He was so kind, he would let anyone in his class who wished to learn, yet his classes were small...which gave a family-kind of atmosphere. He had females in his class as well as males. And he always preached quality over quantity, and he NEVER emphasised getting to your next belt, just learning to be a more effective fighter.
I can't say I knew him as well as others, but I definitely knew him long enough to know that he was the kind of person you only read about or see in some cheesy martial arts movie, only he's the real thing. You look at a man like him demonstrate with his cobra-fast hands, and you see so much knowledge you want to just sap up like a sponge.
But through it all, he was just a kind man. I was on this website reading about how he had been promoted to Grand Master. I was so excited to see that, so honored to know I had been trained by him......then I clicked on the link above.......and went into total shock for several hours.....
You will be missed very much. I only wish I could have said goodbye.
May your soul rest in peace, Sijo.
I come across this.
http://www.ksdsusa.com/tribute_to_our_grand_master_rich.htm
To you, this doesn't mean much.
To me, this is my Master.
Ten years ago, when my body was far less culled by hauling crap around for everyone and their grandmother (because they think big guys = strong), I was a student of the Kajukembo martial arts defense class. Kajukembo -- though I will not bore you with miniscule details -- is a combined art of several well-known martial arts, developed in Hawaii in the 1930s by several masters of each art. My Master was trained under one of the founders directly.
This man was the key to it. Normally I'd turn away from this kind of discipline, but this man was someone I idolized. He was very benign and kind, almost fatherly...until you stepped onto the mat for a day of training.
I don't speak of this man much, because I am ashamed to admit that I fell out of favor with his class due to a problem with one of my friends who was also attending. In short, they paired us up to spar, and my friend, being cocky and competitive, took a couple of roundhouse shots at my eye. I had to hold myself back and was no longer fighting in proper form...I wanted to kick his ass from here to hell during that incident. But much like a Jedi, we were taught never to hate during a fight.
Anyway back to my Master. Richard was an 8th degree black belt. VERY few people in the world held a rank higher than he did that were still actively teaching at the time. He was so kind, he would let anyone in his class who wished to learn, yet his classes were small...which gave a family-kind of atmosphere. He had females in his class as well as males. And he always preached quality over quantity, and he NEVER emphasised getting to your next belt, just learning to be a more effective fighter.
I can't say I knew him as well as others, but I definitely knew him long enough to know that he was the kind of person you only read about or see in some cheesy martial arts movie, only he's the real thing. You look at a man like him demonstrate with his cobra-fast hands, and you see so much knowledge you want to just sap up like a sponge.
But through it all, he was just a kind man. I was on this website reading about how he had been promoted to Grand Master. I was so excited to see that, so honored to know I had been trained by him......then I clicked on the link above.......and went into total shock for several hours.....
You will be missed very much. I only wish I could have said goodbye.
May your soul rest in peace, Sijo.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Let's Do Lunch
Have any of you ever had the joy of being treated lunch? Maybe it's my geriatric age catching up with me... but if I go through the trouble of buying lunch, I pick a place that I know I can afford if someone orders the most expensive thing on the menu, or orders a lot of a bunch of little things.
Some people like to enjoy every aspect of the food when they eat out. I'm one of those people, so I can't fault people for it. Everything from salads to appetizers to the main dish to dessert...hell, I don't bother with a full service restaurant if I'm not going to enjoy it.
But the very people who don't enjoy the experience of eating out seem to be the same people that always buy you lunch, or dinner. And what's worse is it's usually in a situation where you have to act like you appreciate their hospitality, whether you really do or don't care either way.
I've had this happen to me many times in the past. One such occassion was a particular deposition company I used to work with, with my ex-wife. We always went to this same little hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint up the street from where we worked in Northwestern Garland. Not too shabby for cheap mexican food and full service. But because of what she did during these lunches always made me want to rethink doing it, or offering to pay for our own, which I could never do, as it would look like an insult. And we couldn't go anywhere else, this was our monthly work status-of-the-Mom-and-Pop-company meeting, so we had to act like team players.
Naturally, the owner would take her sweet time, as well as her two buddies that helped her run the company, and by the time we all finally got out of the damn office it was at least 1p.m. in the afternoon. By this point, well, you get the idea. It's been awhile since breakfast. If you're talking mexican, I'm drooling for friggin fajitas. Yes, one of the more expensive mexican food items. The kind of dish that's brought to you sizzling in the very mini-skillet it's cooked in.
What's the first thing she does when we all sit down? She flips the menu over, and proceeds with her little 'warning' speech.
"Oh, the lunch specials look really good."
God. Damnit.
Why do people do this? I don't know why I find it so offensive, as I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own tab if I want something better than what she's willing to spend. But, I learned with her, the hard way, you just don't bring it up. People just get petered out if you screw with their hospitality and reject it. I find it ridiculous. So, I learned to live with it, grudgingly, and just tank up on corn chips as much as I could, and wait for my wholly unsatisfying one-enchilada plate to be brought to me.
We didn't always go to the mexican joint, either. Our 'holiday' lunch that year we went to Red Lobster, and after being screwed over and waiting an hour after our order got lost in the kitchen and getting the food for free, I found it ironic that she pulled that little warning speech about the lunch specials out of her ass.
Moving forward to today, there are still people that do this to me. My obnoxiously liberal grandmother-in-law is another person. Considering the fuss this woman makes over dinner when she cooks it at home, and the fuss she makes over whether or not you got enough to eat at her house, one would think she would have the same attitude whenever she invites my wife and I to eat at some semi-decent joint (like Red Lobster again).
Nope. Same nonsense. Only I'm not told this time, not in any direct way. But, I'm also a little better at this game than I used to be. I wait for everyone else to decide what they want, so I keep things firmly in the same price range, or below it.
What do I WANT from the menu, you may ask? Usually, the Ultimate Feast is good enough, I go for the plates that have enough food on them to where you leave stuffed and have leftover, and that have a lot of food for as much value as possible.
But instead, I get this crappy hand-sized hunk of fish with some slimy lobster sauce slathered on top of it instead of the damned lobster tail that I wanted. Again, can't say anything. Don't want to impede upon the meal-giver's hospitality.
When I was growing up, Mom would always let me get whatever I wanted. She was never picky about what I ate, and that's what made eating out fun. Order what you want. But Mom knew better than to take me to a place like Red Lobster (which was a LOT more expensive proportionally when I was a kid), she took me to places that she knew she could afford anything on the menu.
People just get so freaked out if you're the person who orders the 11.95 item on the menu when everyone else is ordering the 9.95 item(s). Why? You want the extra 2 bucks for it? Here, I'll pay you right now, SHEESH. Christ.......can I bitch at you if I take you out? Ironically, people like this don't want you to buy them lunch or dinner, probably so they can hold it over your head later in life that a.) you made a 'pig' out of yourself everytime you went to and b.) you never bought them lunch/dinner.
And the two above mentioned ladies (ex-boss and grandmother-in-law) are not the only ones I have run into this situation with. I have been bought lunch by several other Food Nazis in similar situations, just not as regularly.
Bottom line...if you wanna do lunch, I'm always down with it. Just let me order my own if you're a douchebag with your money. There is NOTHING wrong with split checks, I've done that with friends all the damn time. Or, if you literally have a limited amount of money on you (i.e., we're going to Bennigan's and you say "I've only got 16 bucks to my name until...") , then just TELL me that. I don't like playing dance-around-the-menu games with your ass. When it's time to eat, it's time to eat. Eating is one of the few pleasures in life most of us can afford in this country. Let us order what we want, and STFU about the money, whether you're buying or not.
Some people like to enjoy every aspect of the food when they eat out. I'm one of those people, so I can't fault people for it. Everything from salads to appetizers to the main dish to dessert...hell, I don't bother with a full service restaurant if I'm not going to enjoy it.
But the very people who don't enjoy the experience of eating out seem to be the same people that always buy you lunch, or dinner. And what's worse is it's usually in a situation where you have to act like you appreciate their hospitality, whether you really do or don't care either way.
I've had this happen to me many times in the past. One such occassion was a particular deposition company I used to work with, with my ex-wife. We always went to this same little hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint up the street from where we worked in Northwestern Garland. Not too shabby for cheap mexican food and full service. But because of what she did during these lunches always made me want to rethink doing it, or offering to pay for our own, which I could never do, as it would look like an insult. And we couldn't go anywhere else, this was our monthly work status-of-the-Mom-and-Pop-company meeting, so we had to act like team players.
Naturally, the owner would take her sweet time, as well as her two buddies that helped her run the company, and by the time we all finally got out of the damn office it was at least 1p.m. in the afternoon. By this point, well, you get the idea. It's been awhile since breakfast. If you're talking mexican, I'm drooling for friggin fajitas. Yes, one of the more expensive mexican food items. The kind of dish that's brought to you sizzling in the very mini-skillet it's cooked in.
What's the first thing she does when we all sit down? She flips the menu over, and proceeds with her little 'warning' speech.
"Oh, the lunch specials look really good."
God. Damnit.
Why do people do this? I don't know why I find it so offensive, as I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own tab if I want something better than what she's willing to spend. But, I learned with her, the hard way, you just don't bring it up. People just get petered out if you screw with their hospitality and reject it. I find it ridiculous. So, I learned to live with it, grudgingly, and just tank up on corn chips as much as I could, and wait for my wholly unsatisfying one-enchilada plate to be brought to me.
We didn't always go to the mexican joint, either. Our 'holiday' lunch that year we went to Red Lobster, and after being screwed over and waiting an hour after our order got lost in the kitchen and getting the food for free, I found it ironic that she pulled that little warning speech about the lunch specials out of her ass.
Moving forward to today, there are still people that do this to me. My obnoxiously liberal grandmother-in-law is another person. Considering the fuss this woman makes over dinner when she cooks it at home, and the fuss she makes over whether or not you got enough to eat at her house, one would think she would have the same attitude whenever she invites my wife and I to eat at some semi-decent joint (like Red Lobster again).
Nope. Same nonsense. Only I'm not told this time, not in any direct way. But, I'm also a little better at this game than I used to be. I wait for everyone else to decide what they want, so I keep things firmly in the same price range, or below it.
What do I WANT from the menu, you may ask? Usually, the Ultimate Feast is good enough, I go for the plates that have enough food on them to where you leave stuffed and have leftover, and that have a lot of food for as much value as possible.
But instead, I get this crappy hand-sized hunk of fish with some slimy lobster sauce slathered on top of it instead of the damned lobster tail that I wanted. Again, can't say anything. Don't want to impede upon the meal-giver's hospitality.
When I was growing up, Mom would always let me get whatever I wanted. She was never picky about what I ate, and that's what made eating out fun. Order what you want. But Mom knew better than to take me to a place like Red Lobster (which was a LOT more expensive proportionally when I was a kid), she took me to places that she knew she could afford anything on the menu.
People just get so freaked out if you're the person who orders the 11.95 item on the menu when everyone else is ordering the 9.95 item(s). Why? You want the extra 2 bucks for it? Here, I'll pay you right now, SHEESH. Christ.......can I bitch at you if I take you out? Ironically, people like this don't want you to buy them lunch or dinner, probably so they can hold it over your head later in life that a.) you made a 'pig' out of yourself everytime you went to
And the two above mentioned ladies (ex-boss and grandmother-in-law) are not the only ones I have run into this situation with. I have been bought lunch by several other Food Nazis in similar situations, just not as regularly.
Bottom line...if you wanna do lunch, I'm always down with it. Just let me order my own if you're a douchebag with your money. There is NOTHING wrong with split checks, I've done that with friends all the damn time. Or, if you literally have a limited amount of money on you (i.e., we're going to Bennigan's and you say "I've only got 16 bucks to my name until...") , then just TELL me that. I don't like playing dance-around-the-menu games with your ass. When it's time to eat, it's time to eat. Eating is one of the few pleasures in life most of us can afford in this country. Let us order what we want, and STFU about the money, whether you're buying or not.
Inconceivable Food
I do not know why, but this guy cracks me the hell up.
Some of you know I'm a Japanese cultural freak (this is a new thing for me, within the past few years).
http://www.yongfook.com/category/food-reviews/
In a nutshell, he lives in Japan and is always looking for absolutely off-the-wall stuff at the grocery store to poke fun at. I think it's the eccentricity in his writing.
Some of you know I'm a Japanese cultural freak (this is a new thing for me, within the past few years).
http://www.yongfook.com/category/food-reviews/
In a nutshell, he lives in Japan and is always looking for absolutely off-the-wall stuff at the grocery store to poke fun at. I think it's the eccentricity in his writing.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Who'de Have Thunk It?
Celebrity children that apparently slip under my sensory nets never cease to astonish me.
Enter one Scarlet Page, daughter of the mega-rock-guitarist James Patrick Page (Jimmy Page) of Led Zeppelin.
http://www.scarletpage.com
Must be nice...you look at all these photographs of all these rock stars she's taken mug shots of and think just that. I concede she's good, of course. She also obviously doesn't want her father's name associated with her own namesake, since she makes no mention of him anywhere on her website. I had to look up various other website sources to confirm she is, in fact, his offspring.
My wife is extremely jealous of her most recent photo shoot of Duran Duran. Bleh.....I'll expound on more of my wife's sick fascination with a half-assed 80s Brit band in a later blog. Duran Duran is to her what Rent is to another blogging friend of mine.
Enter one Scarlet Page, daughter of the mega-rock-guitarist James Patrick Page (Jimmy Page) of Led Zeppelin.
http://www.scarletpage.com
Must be nice...you look at all these photographs of all these rock stars she's taken mug shots of and think just that. I concede she's good, of course. She also obviously doesn't want her father's name associated with her own namesake, since she makes no mention of him anywhere on her website. I had to look up various other website sources to confirm she is, in fact, his offspring.
My wife is extremely jealous of her most recent photo shoot of Duran Duran. Bleh.....I'll expound on more of my wife's sick fascination with a half-assed 80s Brit band in a later blog. Duran Duran is to her what Rent is to another blogging friend of mine.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
And So This Is Christmas....
Guess I'm on a roll tonight.
So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let’s stop all the fight
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so happy xmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
War is over, if you want it
War is over now
Happy Christmas
-------------------------------------------------------------
Although he was an agnostic, John Lennon knew the meaning of Christmas, the point of it all. And it had nothing to do with the barriers of personal beliefs.
One of my greatest Christmases (for a kid who didn't understand things at the time) was actually the Christmas he was assassinated. Dad was so depressed that year and I never understood why...they never told me. It goes without saying I understand why today. I actually didn't mourn the loss of such a gifted man until young adulthood.
It pisses me off to no end when people crap on others who celebrate Christmas. What amazes me is these are the same people who badmouth nativity scenes in school plays but would sooner wring your neck if you didn't give them the day off from work.
To you, those people, I say this: you need to understand the significance of the holiday in our culture, the reasons that have nothing to do with religion. It's the one day of the year people think of others, remember whom they love and care for, and the one time of the year there is such a fulfilling day of little if any -- bad vibes.
Serenity is the word. Serenity for all.
And if you still don't like it, I say to you with a defiant smile--
--Merry Christmas.
So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let’s stop all the fight
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so happy xmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
War is over, if you want it
War is over now
Happy Christmas
-------------------------------------------------------------
Although he was an agnostic, John Lennon knew the meaning of Christmas, the point of it all. And it had nothing to do with the barriers of personal beliefs.
One of my greatest Christmases (for a kid who didn't understand things at the time) was actually the Christmas he was assassinated. Dad was so depressed that year and I never understood why...they never told me. It goes without saying I understand why today. I actually didn't mourn the loss of such a gifted man until young adulthood.
It pisses me off to no end when people crap on others who celebrate Christmas. What amazes me is these are the same people who badmouth nativity scenes in school plays but would sooner wring your neck if you didn't give them the day off from work.
To you, those people, I say this: you need to understand the significance of the holiday in our culture, the reasons that have nothing to do with religion. It's the one day of the year people think of others, remember whom they love and care for, and the one time of the year there is such a fulfilling day of little if any -- bad vibes.
Serenity is the word. Serenity for all.
And if you still don't like it, I say to you with a defiant smile--
--Merry Christmas.
When I Was Younger...
I remember the sight of my parents old Balsam (brand name) Christmas Tree. That thing could have filled up a small atrium. Designed to look like a Colorado Spruce.
I remember going to just my grandmother's house, there were only 5 cousins including myself back then. We'd open tons of presents from everyone else. There was no name drawing like there is now.
I remember Dad and I doing one of the few father/son rituals we enjoyed together -- shopping for Mom. Dad would always wait till the 23rd or 24th, hit a nice mall (like North Park) and make a day trip of it.
I remember being one of the lucky few not being forced to go to church after I opened my presents because my parents were non-practicing Catholics. They still are.
I remember the antsyness of Christmas Eve and the relaxed feeling of the day after.
This year, I have no tree. My Christmas present is a simple wad of cash, which will probably be put to more utilitarian use. I dread going to my parents', in-laws and grandmothers houses, respectively.
But for one calm moment, in the eye of the storm on the way home from dropping my son back off with his mother, I shared just a nice, quiet car ride with my wife. Simple things like this are always amazing.
That moment touched on all the happy memories in my life, tied with the happy satisfaction I felt as I saw my son celebrate yet another awesome Christmas (for him), making out like a bandit and enjoying his new toys.
It has been said many times, and it's a moot thing to ask of this life and this world, but I wonder why every day can't be like Christmas. Even the best of us who are good at practicing 'life is what we make it' can't make most of the days of the year feel like Christmas does.
Rather than recognize it for what it was when the tempest has long since passed and say to myself, "Oh, there were some not-so-bad moments...", I'd rather recognize it now, and acknowledge it now.
The spirit of the season finally touched me. For no particular reason, other than it could.
Merry Christmas, Everyone.
(I'll be obnoxiously negative again in my next post, I promise)
I remember going to just my grandmother's house, there were only 5 cousins including myself back then. We'd open tons of presents from everyone else. There was no name drawing like there is now.
I remember Dad and I doing one of the few father/son rituals we enjoyed together -- shopping for Mom. Dad would always wait till the 23rd or 24th, hit a nice mall (like North Park) and make a day trip of it.
I remember being one of the lucky few not being forced to go to church after I opened my presents because my parents were non-practicing Catholics. They still are.
I remember the antsyness of Christmas Eve and the relaxed feeling of the day after.
This year, I have no tree. My Christmas present is a simple wad of cash, which will probably be put to more utilitarian use. I dread going to my parents', in-laws and grandmothers houses, respectively.
But for one calm moment, in the eye of the storm on the way home from dropping my son back off with his mother, I shared just a nice, quiet car ride with my wife. Simple things like this are always amazing.
That moment touched on all the happy memories in my life, tied with the happy satisfaction I felt as I saw my son celebrate yet another awesome Christmas (for him), making out like a bandit and enjoying his new toys.
It has been said many times, and it's a moot thing to ask of this life and this world, but I wonder why every day can't be like Christmas. Even the best of us who are good at practicing 'life is what we make it' can't make most of the days of the year feel like Christmas does.
Rather than recognize it for what it was when the tempest has long since passed and say to myself, "Oh, there were some not-so-bad moments...", I'd rather recognize it now, and acknowledge it now.
The spirit of the season finally touched me. For no particular reason, other than it could.
Merry Christmas, Everyone.
(I'll be obnoxiously negative again in my next post, I promise)
Monday, December 19, 2005
WoW Quiz
Frickin' figures I'd be a damn gnome.....and with one of the most evil combat classes to boot. Ironic that my main on Warcraft is actually a Night Elf Hunter.
|
Monday, December 12, 2005
Amidst the Darkness this Holiday Season
I find one tiny spark of beauty to spread around.
http://media.putfile.com/Christmas-Rocker
The link is perfectly work safe. You will need sound, though.
Normally I can't stand Classical meshed with rock. But this was really done well without overdoing it. And yes, I've analyzed the guy closely, he really is playing the song.
I find it....oddly uplifting.
http://media.putfile.com/Christmas-Rocker
The link is perfectly work safe. You will need sound, though.
Normally I can't stand Classical meshed with rock. But this was really done well without overdoing it. And yes, I've analyzed the guy closely, he really is playing the song.
I find it....oddly uplifting.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Christmas Woes
Once again, I have been smited by my parents.
I fail to understand why they get so upset by a family reunion.
And the fact that I'm not coming to it.
I let my son go with them. I'm not a complete bastard.
Let me explain how these family reunions work, or this particular one.
1. It's held every year, usually 2 weeks prior to Christmas.
2. My grandmother's siblings and their kids and their kids' kids, and so on, and so forth, ad nauseum, show up to this thing.
3. The only people there who know each other at this point are my grandmother and her siblings, and their kids. I lost track of who is who a long time ago.
4. There are some reasonable things, like about $1,000.00 is collected for a selected needy family.
5. All that happens is: We eat, the friendlier people say hello to one another, and my immediate family (whom I see ALL the time) stick to their side of the room, talking, and the other side of the family sticks to their side of the room, talking. Only my grandmother and her brothers make the rounds to talk to the 'other' side. It is nothing more than a lame social gathering/free meal at best.
6. Most of my family are under the social/intelligence ladder, so I don't like to be associated with them in most public situations anyway. In English, they are white trash (except my parents, and my uncle, who also disassociates himself from the rest of my grandmother's kids). And I KNOW my family is viewed as inferior by the other sides of the family, so I don't like being seen with them anyway.
7. The reunions have also always been a chance for both sides to display their spawn like livestock. I'm 32 years old, I have no reason to prove anything to anyone. I show up because I feel like it, not because I want people to see how healthy/sick fat/skinny stupid/intelligent I have become in the last year.
And here's the funniest part. With the exception of maybe 2 times throughout my entire childhood through about 16 years of age, my father would NEVER show up to these things. I was taken by my grandmother. I only wanted to go because my cousins were going ... kid thing. But Dad always sat it out.
Over the last 15 years, he's become more gung-ho about it than anyone else I know, save my grandmother. Every year we go through the same stupid ritual if I don't go. He throws me off on some guilt trip. Or, he tries. I fail to understand why he becomes so offended by it.
I personally just don't care one way or the other. I let my son go with them if he says he would like to go, and if they ask me to let him go, in that order.
Oh, and on the rare occassion that my son doesn't go (like last year, I took him down to Palestine, TX to ride the Christmas Train, and we had a lot more fun), he will go apeshit ballistic.
I swear, if I make it to being an old fart, I will do my very best not to riddle people with guilt just because they don't show up to some insipid gathering. The thing is, I wouldn't dread these things so much if my father and grandmother would just STFU about them. But they've spent all this time building up such a legendary tale about me and the fact that I don't show, that if and when I DO show to these things (which is about once every 2 years) the second I set foot in the door my entire immediate family, my grandmother especially will chime in like a chorus from the pit of hell: "OHHHH look who decided to show up." And it's not an affectionate chiding. It's downright hateful. You have to imagine it said in a 1970s/80s Conway Twitty, Texas redneck accent by someone who's just itching to pull out his Colt revolver and git' that snake. /grumble
As with all things, the old phrase "I shape my own destiny" applies here, to me. But you know, one can only take being persecuted because he/she is a homebody for so long. Any other day of the year, my parents are, too. Hypocrites.
I fail to understand why they get so upset by a family reunion.
And the fact that I'm not coming to it.
I let my son go with them. I'm not a complete bastard.
Let me explain how these family reunions work, or this particular one.
1. It's held every year, usually 2 weeks prior to Christmas.
2. My grandmother's siblings and their kids and their kids' kids, and so on, and so forth, ad nauseum, show up to this thing.
3. The only people there who know each other at this point are my grandmother and her siblings, and their kids. I lost track of who is who a long time ago.
4. There are some reasonable things, like about $1,000.00 is collected for a selected needy family.
5. All that happens is: We eat, the friendlier people say hello to one another, and my immediate family (whom I see ALL the time) stick to their side of the room, talking, and the other side of the family sticks to their side of the room, talking. Only my grandmother and her brothers make the rounds to talk to the 'other' side. It is nothing more than a lame social gathering/free meal at best.
6. Most of my family are under the social/intelligence ladder, so I don't like to be associated with them in most public situations anyway. In English, they are white trash (except my parents, and my uncle, who also disassociates himself from the rest of my grandmother's kids). And I KNOW my family is viewed as inferior by the other sides of the family, so I don't like being seen with them anyway.
7. The reunions have also always been a chance for both sides to display their spawn like livestock. I'm 32 years old, I have no reason to prove anything to anyone. I show up because I feel like it, not because I want people to see how healthy/sick fat/skinny stupid/intelligent I have become in the last year.
And here's the funniest part. With the exception of maybe 2 times throughout my entire childhood through about 16 years of age, my father would NEVER show up to these things. I was taken by my grandmother. I only wanted to go because my cousins were going ... kid thing. But Dad always sat it out.
Over the last 15 years, he's become more gung-ho about it than anyone else I know, save my grandmother. Every year we go through the same stupid ritual if I don't go. He throws me off on some guilt trip. Or, he tries. I fail to understand why he becomes so offended by it.
I personally just don't care one way or the other. I let my son go with them if he says he would like to go, and if they ask me to let him go, in that order.
Oh, and on the rare occassion that my son doesn't go (like last year, I took him down to Palestine, TX to ride the Christmas Train, and we had a lot more fun), he will go apeshit ballistic.
I swear, if I make it to being an old fart, I will do my very best not to riddle people with guilt just because they don't show up to some insipid gathering. The thing is, I wouldn't dread these things so much if my father and grandmother would just STFU about them. But they've spent all this time building up such a legendary tale about me and the fact that I don't show, that if and when I DO show to these things (which is about once every 2 years) the second I set foot in the door my entire immediate family, my grandmother especially will chime in like a chorus from the pit of hell: "OHHHH look who decided to show up." And it's not an affectionate chiding. It's downright hateful. You have to imagine it said in a 1970s/80s Conway Twitty, Texas redneck accent by someone who's just itching to pull out his Colt revolver and git' that snake. /grumble
As with all things, the old phrase "I shape my own destiny" applies here, to me. But you know, one can only take being persecuted because he/she is a homebody for so long. Any other day of the year, my parents are, too. Hypocrites.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Merry Effing Christmas
I'm going to hate Christmas this year.
Allow me to elaborate first.
Every year since I can remember, Mom has always asked me what I want for Christmas. I've always had to go through this little song and dance when I give her some suggestions, due to the odd monetary relationship she has being married to my father.
My requests have never been unreasonable. I always keep them well-within what she's willing to spend. And she's very open about what she's willing to spend, because the monetary value of my gift will be given to me during the part where she asks me. It's just the kind of relationship we have.
I know Mom like a book now when it comes down to asking me. The first question that rolls into her mind is: "Is your Dad going to bitch about it if I buy that?". Why should she even care if the money comes out of her own pocket personally like it does every year? Like I said, it's an odd relationship she shares with that man. Every year since I was a child, she gets him grander and grander presents that he never asks for, and always spends more money on him. Okay, so I learned to live with that.
I'm starting to sound like a spoiled brat, but for me, this is how I was raised. It's more of a 'tradition' with my parents than fact.
Generally, I always got what I asked for. Back when I believed in Santa, they played the 'be good' card with me until Christmas Day, but other than that, little has changed. Until this year.
She starts asking me what I want. Typically, my wife and I have been getting a combined gift of money from her (we don't ask for that, she just gives it) and individual, smaller gifts. This year, she specifies that it has to be something more fun and not practical. She sounds loaded and willing to spend a bit more. I try money for me and my wife, and she shys away from that, telling me to pick something else.
So, I ask for a medium-range MP3 player, either HDD or FlashMem. I don't care which. Would work for me. She seems keen on the request, but that changed (surprise surprise) one week later. I start talking to her on the phone and was trying to tell her about the more affordable models to save her money, but then I am notified that she suddenly 'can't do that anymore'. Not right now. Not possible. I say okay, but naturally ask why. She is vague and says she can't tell me but it has something to do with the 'mood' my father's been in lately.
It is at this point in the phone conversation that my eyes roll so fucking far into the back of my head I almost can't get them out.
I poke at her, but she won't tell me. Obviously (I know that tone in her voice), he's within earshot. It's a little game she plays where she wants to tell me but won't tell me with him listening in. Many an argument she's had with him she's come all the way over at my house later to rant about him if she blows up. I listen primarily for amusement. But this time ... it's different. My wife's and my money has been tight for the last several months getting our debts back into line, so I can't afford this little expense I thought I was going to receive from Mom for Christmas. I was asked, keep that in mind. Now I'm being told "No". Naturally I want to know just what the hell my father's done to ruin things this time.
What it turned out to be made me really wish she'd grow a spine when it comes to him. He apparently was demoted up at his job and lost about 4 bucks an hour, but trust me, if I told you his salary, your jaw would drop to the floor. It's more of a long term thing, I suppose. But I've noticed it in his behavior. He's acting like a real asshole lately, and he needs to get over it. He will likely be re-promoted next year when the new position opens up for him to manage. IN the meantime, he still has a job, and he's still financially very well-off. Their standard of living won't even come close to changing.
So, he lost some salary, now he's naturally freaking out to the point of uber paranoia about money. He and my wife have that in common. *eyeroll*
The collateral damage of his attitude gone sour is my Christmas present got borked. I literally could think of nothing after Mom told me to 'decide again' (with far less enthusiasm than she did the first time she asked). I was so pissed at this point, you know what I asked for? I used to wear a green army jacket back in my youth during and after high school. I miss it. It made me look more like a bum than I already do. So I asked for another one. My psychotic ex made off with my previous one when we split up. I could buy one of those on my own with no hassle, though.
Mom's always been the one to cheer me up at Christmastime with my present, it's just something nice she does for me every year, so this is just depressing for me. I really don't like being strung along and be told to ask for something specific, be told I'm going to get it, then get let down a week later just because my asshole father wants to be a Scrooge and ruin everyone else's Christmas. My wife also was asked to make a decision about Christmas by my mother, she asked for some money to help out with tuition (books). She won't be getting it now.
But overall, it's not just the fact that my father is borking my Christmas present. It's the fact that his attitude about something so utterly trivial in the grand scope of things is pissing off everyone who cares for him. Even Mom is getting irritated with him. I don't call and talk to him much lately, and for good reason (his attitude). And I'm seriously considering denying my parents access to my son for our yearly pointless-relatives-you-never-remember family reunion this weekend as a roundabout punishment to my father for behaving like a childish ass. He'll probably get her something shitty, which will also increase the fireworks on Christmas Day, but I won't even go into detail about that.
Every year, my Christmases and birthdays with them are a big enough pain in the ass, and they treat it like some grand inconvenience, even though they still feel obligated to buy me something. I just about told my own mother to piss off this year and not to get me shit, just because I don't want to deal with the headaches anymore. Maybe I should just say that to them. Don't get me anything.
So, that's all I get this year. A green jacket. I'd almost rather have nothing.
So...when you're opening up something cool from a family member, you remember me. And what I'm getting. And yes, I picked the green jacket out of a sense of disgust because of wtf I had to endure to get to that point to begin with.
Merry Christmas!
Allow me to elaborate first.
Every year since I can remember, Mom has always asked me what I want for Christmas. I've always had to go through this little song and dance when I give her some suggestions, due to the odd monetary relationship she has being married to my father.
My requests have never been unreasonable. I always keep them well-within what she's willing to spend. And she's very open about what she's willing to spend, because the monetary value of my gift will be given to me during the part where she asks me. It's just the kind of relationship we have.
I know Mom like a book now when it comes down to asking me. The first question that rolls into her mind is: "Is your Dad going to bitch about it if I buy that?". Why should she even care if the money comes out of her own pocket personally like it does every year? Like I said, it's an odd relationship she shares with that man. Every year since I was a child, she gets him grander and grander presents that he never asks for, and always spends more money on him. Okay, so I learned to live with that.
I'm starting to sound like a spoiled brat, but for me, this is how I was raised. It's more of a 'tradition' with my parents than fact.
Generally, I always got what I asked for. Back when I believed in Santa, they played the 'be good' card with me until Christmas Day, but other than that, little has changed. Until this year.
She starts asking me what I want. Typically, my wife and I have been getting a combined gift of money from her (we don't ask for that, she just gives it) and individual, smaller gifts. This year, she specifies that it has to be something more fun and not practical. She sounds loaded and willing to spend a bit more. I try money for me and my wife, and she shys away from that, telling me to pick something else.
So, I ask for a medium-range MP3 player, either HDD or FlashMem. I don't care which. Would work for me. She seems keen on the request, but that changed (surprise surprise) one week later. I start talking to her on the phone and was trying to tell her about the more affordable models to save her money, but then I am notified that she suddenly 'can't do that anymore'. Not right now. Not possible. I say okay, but naturally ask why. She is vague and says she can't tell me but it has something to do with the 'mood' my father's been in lately.
It is at this point in the phone conversation that my eyes roll so fucking far into the back of my head I almost can't get them out.
I poke at her, but she won't tell me. Obviously (I know that tone in her voice), he's within earshot. It's a little game she plays where she wants to tell me but won't tell me with him listening in. Many an argument she's had with him she's come all the way over at my house later to rant about him if she blows up. I listen primarily for amusement. But this time ... it's different. My wife's and my money has been tight for the last several months getting our debts back into line, so I can't afford this little expense I thought I was going to receive from Mom for Christmas. I was asked, keep that in mind. Now I'm being told "No". Naturally I want to know just what the hell my father's done to ruin things this time.
What it turned out to be made me really wish she'd grow a spine when it comes to him. He apparently was demoted up at his job and lost about 4 bucks an hour, but trust me, if I told you his salary, your jaw would drop to the floor. It's more of a long term thing, I suppose. But I've noticed it in his behavior. He's acting like a real asshole lately, and he needs to get over it. He will likely be re-promoted next year when the new position opens up for him to manage. IN the meantime, he still has a job, and he's still financially very well-off. Their standard of living won't even come close to changing.
So, he lost some salary, now he's naturally freaking out to the point of uber paranoia about money. He and my wife have that in common. *eyeroll*
The collateral damage of his attitude gone sour is my Christmas present got borked. I literally could think of nothing after Mom told me to 'decide again' (with far less enthusiasm than she did the first time she asked). I was so pissed at this point, you know what I asked for? I used to wear a green army jacket back in my youth during and after high school. I miss it. It made me look more like a bum than I already do. So I asked for another one. My psychotic ex made off with my previous one when we split up. I could buy one of those on my own with no hassle, though.
Mom's always been the one to cheer me up at Christmastime with my present, it's just something nice she does for me every year, so this is just depressing for me. I really don't like being strung along and be told to ask for something specific, be told I'm going to get it, then get let down a week later just because my asshole father wants to be a Scrooge and ruin everyone else's Christmas. My wife also was asked to make a decision about Christmas by my mother, she asked for some money to help out with tuition (books). She won't be getting it now.
But overall, it's not just the fact that my father is borking my Christmas present. It's the fact that his attitude about something so utterly trivial in the grand scope of things is pissing off everyone who cares for him. Even Mom is getting irritated with him. I don't call and talk to him much lately, and for good reason (his attitude). And I'm seriously considering denying my parents access to my son for our yearly pointless-relatives-you-never-remember family reunion this weekend as a roundabout punishment to my father for behaving like a childish ass. He'll probably get her something shitty, which will also increase the fireworks on Christmas Day, but I won't even go into detail about that.
Every year, my Christmases and birthdays with them are a big enough pain in the ass, and they treat it like some grand inconvenience, even though they still feel obligated to buy me something. I just about told my own mother to piss off this year and not to get me shit, just because I don't want to deal with the headaches anymore. Maybe I should just say that to them. Don't get me anything.
So, that's all I get this year. A green jacket. I'd almost rather have nothing.
So...when you're opening up something cool from a family member, you remember me. And what I'm getting. And yes, I picked the green jacket out of a sense of disgust because of wtf I had to endure to get to that point to begin with.
Merry Christmas!
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Well...
Friends are friends, so I have to give a shout-out to those who care about me. Actually I don't, you know who you are. I'm sorry about the previous post (now deleted). To say that my friends don't care about me is complete and utter b.s., and I hope you forgive me for that oversight.
I crashed on the cigarettes. I'm ashamed of myself, but relieved for the moment. As a very good friend made me recognize, I wasn't in a place where I was comfortable enough yet to do it. Maybe once/if this job goes through to permanent and I have a little more security in my life...
I was becoming a stark raving lunatic, for the most part. Even with the lozenges. Cigarettes provide something else besides the nicotine addiction. Something horribly habitual, which is far worse than any addiction itself. I'm going to have to figure out what it is about myself that I deal with by smoking, and learn to cope with it. Once I do, the desire to smoke will go away naturally. It could be as simple as weaning myself off the damn things slowly. We'll see. Either way, I have NOT given up on the idea of quitting them. In fact, I'm more resolved than ever to get it done.
It's about 1 a.m. and I thought I'd do a little ditty of a blog while I wait for this impossibly long file transfer to go through to Shanghai.
It's interesting that I volunteered to do this. I remember when my boss first asked the group "Who wants to come in at midnight for a special install in China?", two things crossed my mind immediately.
1. A chance to stack the deck and show him that I'm a team player, yada yada.
2. I get to go home at 8 a.m.
Those were the initial reasons that caused me to speak up.
But one has to wonder...are those the only reasons? Of course not. There are trade-offs to everything, I suppose. The most obvious being that I'm going to be exhausted and my sleeping schedule is going to screw up. I left my wife to sleep alone at home, something she doesn't like (and I really don't like either now that I think about it). But...selfish as I am...after volunteering I couldn't ignore the interesting idea that I would be basically here, alone, unfettered, for 5 hours of my work day. I can do my job with no interruptions. I can get up and go smoke whenever without being noticed. I can belch and fart as much as I like. Now that I definitely don't have a problem with. Is that selfish of me? Maybe. But there's still the trade offs that I have to deal with.
Also (and this is something very few people know about me), I'm always looking to break the monotony in my life, whatever it may be. Nobody likes to work. I have never met a single person who does, but that's just life. And I always look at things like this working late as a chance to do something different, even if it's some crazy bullshit like working off-the-wall hours of the night. Well, off-the-wall compared to my normal schedule. If a night like this became a habit, I'd hate it. I think that's why I never handled your 'standard' daytime office job very well.
Take my last job before working for this company for example. Law firm. I was a paralegal by title. I did well my first few months there, very well. Well enough to get a $3,000/year raise by my third month. They liked me so much they promoted me to a position and fired the girl in that position the same day. I liked my job. Then my job got more tedious. And actually, tedious isn't a big problem at all for me. Sometimes the more tedious, the better.
But it got monotonous. I dealt with the city and county tax assessors regularly. Once in a blue moon, even the mayor's office. I should have been honored, I suppose. Even my divorce dragged me down, but it wasn't the final reason I quit. I quit because I couldn't stand the monotony of it. I was going nowhere, doing nothing new. Nothing changed. Every day the same pile of affidavits had to be drafted. Every day the same legal documents had to be typed up for the court docket. Every day the same attorney came to my desk and yelled at me in front of everyone for doing the job wrong (it wasn't me, she was just like that to everyone except her personal favorites...I don't play that game with people). Day after day, it was just a long pile of paperwork. I soon realized my job was stagnating like a festering pile of trash, and because of it, I was learning nothing new, in addition to doing the same hellish job every day. So, my current friend/boss told me there were positions available where I'm working now, and I walked out on that job two weeks prior to coming here. Only job I've ever walked out on. There were other things, I suppose. Dishonest supervisors, for one thing. A general tight-assedness in that place that I just couldn't stand.
But what drove me away from it was monotony.
I've always been a very good independent worker once I've figured out whatever system of a job it is I'm doing. Indepedent to the point where I don't like human contact once I get going. I've been told that's an ADD trait. Whatever. I think it's just a me trait. If I'm knee deep in several projects at once, and you come to me asking me to do something else, I'll take it with the most fiendishly conjured 'Sure!' that you will ever hear. But rest assured, when you walk away, I've already pondered a hundred ways to make you pay. :)
Lovely. The site I agreed to come in and do has NO idea what their setup is as far as dial-up or broadband. F**kers. Oh well.
I crashed on the cigarettes. I'm ashamed of myself, but relieved for the moment. As a very good friend made me recognize, I wasn't in a place where I was comfortable enough yet to do it. Maybe once/if this job goes through to permanent and I have a little more security in my life...
I was becoming a stark raving lunatic, for the most part. Even with the lozenges. Cigarettes provide something else besides the nicotine addiction. Something horribly habitual, which is far worse than any addiction itself. I'm going to have to figure out what it is about myself that I deal with by smoking, and learn to cope with it. Once I do, the desire to smoke will go away naturally. It could be as simple as weaning myself off the damn things slowly. We'll see. Either way, I have NOT given up on the idea of quitting them. In fact, I'm more resolved than ever to get it done.
It's about 1 a.m. and I thought I'd do a little ditty of a blog while I wait for this impossibly long file transfer to go through to Shanghai.
It's interesting that I volunteered to do this. I remember when my boss first asked the group "Who wants to come in at midnight for a special install in China?", two things crossed my mind immediately.
1. A chance to stack the deck and show him that I'm a team player, yada yada.
2. I get to go home at 8 a.m.
Those were the initial reasons that caused me to speak up.
But one has to wonder...are those the only reasons? Of course not. There are trade-offs to everything, I suppose. The most obvious being that I'm going to be exhausted and my sleeping schedule is going to screw up. I left my wife to sleep alone at home, something she doesn't like (and I really don't like either now that I think about it). But...selfish as I am...after volunteering I couldn't ignore the interesting idea that I would be basically here, alone, unfettered, for 5 hours of my work day. I can do my job with no interruptions. I can get up and go smoke whenever without being noticed. I can belch and fart as much as I like. Now that I definitely don't have a problem with. Is that selfish of me? Maybe. But there's still the trade offs that I have to deal with.
Also (and this is something very few people know about me), I'm always looking to break the monotony in my life, whatever it may be. Nobody likes to work. I have never met a single person who does, but that's just life. And I always look at things like this working late as a chance to do something different, even if it's some crazy bullshit like working off-the-wall hours of the night. Well, off-the-wall compared to my normal schedule. If a night like this became a habit, I'd hate it. I think that's why I never handled your 'standard' daytime office job very well.
Take my last job before working for this company for example. Law firm. I was a paralegal by title. I did well my first few months there, very well. Well enough to get a $3,000/year raise by my third month. They liked me so much they promoted me to a position and fired the girl in that position the same day. I liked my job. Then my job got more tedious. And actually, tedious isn't a big problem at all for me. Sometimes the more tedious, the better.
But it got monotonous. I dealt with the city and county tax assessors regularly. Once in a blue moon, even the mayor's office. I should have been honored, I suppose. Even my divorce dragged me down, but it wasn't the final reason I quit. I quit because I couldn't stand the monotony of it. I was going nowhere, doing nothing new. Nothing changed. Every day the same pile of affidavits had to be drafted. Every day the same legal documents had to be typed up for the court docket. Every day the same attorney came to my desk and yelled at me in front of everyone for doing the job wrong (it wasn't me, she was just like that to everyone except her personal favorites...I don't play that game with people). Day after day, it was just a long pile of paperwork. I soon realized my job was stagnating like a festering pile of trash, and because of it, I was learning nothing new, in addition to doing the same hellish job every day. So, my current friend/boss told me there were positions available where I'm working now, and I walked out on that job two weeks prior to coming here. Only job I've ever walked out on. There were other things, I suppose. Dishonest supervisors, for one thing. A general tight-assedness in that place that I just couldn't stand.
But what drove me away from it was monotony.
I've always been a very good independent worker once I've figured out whatever system of a job it is I'm doing. Indepedent to the point where I don't like human contact once I get going. I've been told that's an ADD trait. Whatever. I think it's just a me trait. If I'm knee deep in several projects at once, and you come to me asking me to do something else, I'll take it with the most fiendishly conjured 'Sure!' that you will ever hear. But rest assured, when you walk away, I've already pondered a hundred ways to make you pay. :)
Lovely. The site I agreed to come in and do has NO idea what their setup is as far as dial-up or broadband. F**kers. Oh well.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil....Or Snap Out of it, Man!
Hmph.
Well, I can't think of anything good to write about, but I promise that I will not write again until I can think of something 'nice'. No, I haven't been myself, and no, I can't think of anything positive, upbeat nor funny like I usually can, but if such an anecdote ever hits me, I'll write about it.
This is due to recent criticism of my work from several friends.
I will say to anyone who thinks I'm being overly melodramatic and too high-strung, you have no idea the things I have been through in recent times. You have no idea what I have to do every night to keep from yanking my hair out by the roots.
Excuse me for baring my soul...guess it was too damn much for most of you to handle. So, there may not be another post for awhile.
"The good, by and large, is an illusion, little fables people tell themselves every morning to keep themselves from screaming." -- Andre Linoge, 'Storm of the Century' by Stephen King
Well, I can't think of anything good to write about, but I promise that I will not write again until I can think of something 'nice'. No, I haven't been myself, and no, I can't think of anything positive, upbeat nor funny like I usually can, but if such an anecdote ever hits me, I'll write about it.
This is due to recent criticism of my work from several friends.
I will say to anyone who thinks I'm being overly melodramatic and too high-strung, you have no idea the things I have been through in recent times. You have no idea what I have to do every night to keep from yanking my hair out by the roots.
Excuse me for baring my soul...guess it was too damn much for most of you to handle. So, there may not be another post for awhile.
"The good, by and large, is an illusion, little fables people tell themselves every morning to keep themselves from screaming." -- Andre Linoge, 'Storm of the Century' by Stephen King
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Sunday...the Day to Loathe
Yes, it's true. It's all true. I hate Sundays. Well, now that I'm working again, anyway. I hate them with a passion.
Why? I spend all day dreading Monday. The truth be told, Mondays are just as likely to be stressful as any other day of the work week. But it's an old habit, a habit as old as the first day I set foot into a room of kindergardners at the age of 5. It's a habit I doubt I'll break sometime in the next millenium.
Sometimes when I stress I wake up the next day feeling pretty bad. Leftover soreness from muscle tension due to the stress. I often wonder if that's the key to me feeling like shit on Mondays when I go in.
I don't know what I dread anymore, seriously. Nothing's there on Monday that's going to bite me any harder than any of the other days of the week.
Why? I spend all day dreading Monday. The truth be told, Mondays are just as likely to be stressful as any other day of the work week. But it's an old habit, a habit as old as the first day I set foot into a room of kindergardners at the age of 5. It's a habit I doubt I'll break sometime in the next millenium.
Sometimes when I stress I wake up the next day feeling pretty bad. Leftover soreness from muscle tension due to the stress. I often wonder if that's the key to me feeling like shit on Mondays when I go in.
I don't know what I dread anymore, seriously. Nothing's there on Monday that's going to bite me any harder than any of the other days of the week.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
So One Manager Says, Part 2...
This afternoon, after literally busting my cahones to get as much of the client's sites done as I could, my immediate boss, the one who came back and wasn't happy, said to me about an hour before quitting time, "Good job getting those closed, man."
Err, after I picked my jaw up off the floor, I made my usual unassuming remark, I don't take praise well. "Hey, no problem, I'm just glad that blah blah".
Funny, I found out later when he first came in that his foot was swollen badly for some reason.
By the time he complimented me he had taken a certain pain killer I know all too well.
Three cheers for the power of Vicodin!
Err, after I picked my jaw up off the floor, I made my usual unassuming remark, I don't take praise well. "Hey, no problem, I'm just glad that blah blah".
Funny, I found out later when he first came in that his foot was swollen badly for some reason.
By the time he complimented me he had taken a certain pain killer I know all too well.
Three cheers for the power of Vicodin!
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About Me
- SimonZealotes
- Read my blog. Ok, ok. 33 years old, twice divorced, one kid from a previous marriage, and one cat that drives me up the wall. I'm currently working my way through college, where I plan to get my BA in Music Business, and then my Master's in Composition after. I have been a musician as long as I can remember, but my parents did their best to stop me from becoming a professional musician. Oh, and I have yet to meet a woman that isn't a flaky bitch.