So, it's been two weeks since my birthday, and even though I say I don't feel any older, I find myself spending money on fertilizer and weed-killer. I just had two days off in a row (very, very rare for me), and I spent it doing yard-work and getting the pool swim-ready. I remember the days when I would purposely screw up the yard so Dad would do it, and now I don't want my kids to help because they'll fuck it up and I'll just have to do it over.
The pool is a mess. I've never had a pool before. I guess it's normal to uncover 10,000 gallons of swamp water at the beginning of spring. After two days I can finally see how filthy the bottom of the pool is, at least on the shallow end, and it's actually starting to smell like a pool.
The first thing I did when trying to start the filtration system was fail to realize that the jets for pumping the water back into the pool were plugged. In my defense, I couldn't see them through the Great Dismal Swamp. Then, the booster pump was missing a plug, so it flooded my backyard and lowered the water-level too much. I had to run the garden hose in the pool for nearly four hours to raise the water an inch.
The trees in my backyard are a huge pain-in-the-ass. As soon as I scoop everything out of the pool, the wind blows more crap off the trees. I'm going to cut everyone of them down. With scissors if I have to. I hate them.
A duck started coming around and decided the pool would be a good place for a swim. Not much later, she was joined by a male companion, and then another (slut!). I'm pretty sure I witnessed duck-rape today. One of the males tried to get it on today, but she was have none of it. After she freed herself from him, she chased him away, then bitched about it very loudly in the backyard for about an hour. She pisses the cats off. Later on in the evening, both males were back, joined by a second female. The ducks have decided that I'm no threat, so when I go out back, they just swim to the other side of the pool and yell at me. I'm going to hit them with rocks until they stop coming back.
There are people everywhere now that the weather has warmed up (it was 85 today!). They walk together, they walk their dogs, they ride bikes, they push their babies in strollers, and they wave and say hi if you happen to be out in the yard when they pass. Is this what people do? It's okay, I suppose, but if any of those little fuckers on skateboards fails to move out of the street when I'm driving again, I'm just going to run him over.
I've realized that while I hate my job and the business in general, I like being outside and doing yardwork. I'm going to quit soon.
By the way, duck poop floats.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Who says getting older can't be fun?
This might turn out to be boring for everyone else, but feel like reliving the evening's events for my own amusement.
Saturday was my mother's 50th birthday party. Let me preface this by saying that in my family, get togethers generally suck. The food sucks, and everyone just sits around and looks at each other. If there is a fair amount of alcohol going around, it's makes most of the family unbearable, especially my mother. It can be pretty excruciating. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to going. But go I did, and let me tell you, I have never had more fun around my family in my life. Ever.
To be fair, there wasn't a whole lot of family there. I'll try to remember the guest list as accurately as possible, though it won't matter to most of you anyway. My parents, my sister Jessica, her boyfriend David and his brother Steve, my Aunt Elaine and Uncle John, Aunt Rita, my dad's best friend (since 4th grade!) Albert, his ex-wife and about half of their 738 kids, including Lola, who I haven't seen in 20 years (and who looks pretty damn good), some of Albert's grandkids, a couple people dad works with, and lastly, my mother's best friend Pam and her son Patrick, who I also hadn't seen in 20 years or so. They drove from Tennessee to be there. That might be it. Oh! and Michelle. Now onto some of the highlights of the evening.
First, I arrived an hour late, hoping everyone would already be drunk and I could make a hasty exit. When I get there, my sister and Patrick are lining up Irish Carbombs. Well, this night may be a total loss after all, because those of you who really know me know my passion for an Irish Carbomb or 4. I decide I should at least have a beer first, so I go out onto the deck and there's a swimming pool full of Sam Adams. What, you mean it's not just Bud Light and Corona? Score!
So after a couple of beers and an Irish Carbomb or two, I'm feeling okay, mingling a bit, generally being the life of the party. I go into the kitchen to see my parents doing "Tic-Tacs". Apparently this concoction of Absolut Mandarin and Red Bull is supposed to taste like an orange Tic-Tac. I didn't partake, but my parents are throwing them back. Instead of getting annoying, however, my parents have really loosened up and are having fun. It's still really early in the evening, mind you.
I head into the dining room to gorge myself, because usually eating is all there is to do. I notice the music has cut off, and instead of listening to Santana 8 times in a row, I remembered I had my cds in the car, and I saved the evening with Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, and The Rolling Stones. The old folks are going nuts, especially since Jimi was live.
About the time I get back from the car with the cds, my father, Pam and Patrick are on the front porch. Well, apparently, Dad and Patrick had been in the backyard smoking weed. That's right. Now, I know my father did some shit when he was younger, and I know he smoked well into my teenage years, but he would NEVER have done it with us around or allowed us to know about it. On top of that, he did it with Patrick! Hell, I remember when that boy was in diapers. Anyway, I'm sure he expected me to be appalled to know he had been out back hitting the bowl, but instead I leaned toward Patrick and said "Why wasn't I invited to the party within the party?" The look on dad's face was absolutely priceless.
About this time, Steve is in the middle of going shot-for-shot, beer-for-beer with my Uncle John. Now, Steve is in his early 20s and is a United States Marine. Uncle John is closing in on 70 and hasn't been in great shape for, oh, 40 years. This turned out to be a huge mistake for Steve. The kid passed out on the couch before midnight and never moved another inch.
I will, at some point, be providing video of my mother and Albert dancing to "Under My Thumb" by The Stones. It's pretty damn funny.
But first, we are not done with the weed. Next thing I know, I'm in the backyard with Patrick, Pam, and my mother (my mother!). It was my mother who made me go. This however, is only the first episode. Later, Mom and Pam decide it's a great time to introduce Jennifer to the joys of getting high. Having never done it, she had no idea what to do with the bowl. Never fear, Aunt Rita is here. She's giving step-by-step instructions, and it's fucking hilarious. She's 60, for Christ's sake. Everyone is in the backyard being loud as hell, yelling things like "Hurry up and light it" and "Puff,puff, pass bitch! What are you doing" (that may have been me). And yet, no cops were called.
Next came the story-telling. This is a ritual at family gatherings, and probably the worst part. We've been hearing the same old stories for years and they just aren't funny anymore. Ah, but they are not the same old stories when you throw Pam into the equation. And me, being the life of the party that I am, kept the crowd going for quite some time. It's not often I laugh that hard or that much.
After a couple of Johnny Walkers (Gold!) with my father (wait, he doesn't know I poured myself another!) the party started to settle down. It was quite an unusual, and enjoyable, evening. Oh, except Elaine was really pissed at John for getting so drunk, but man was he funny. She didn't get pissy with everyone else, though. Rita managed to get through two conversations about Mary Beth without completely breaking down and having to leave. I enjoyed my sister's company, her boyfriend, by all accounts, is a genuinely good guy (a rarity indeed), my parents had a great time, and they're not going to be able to look me in the eye for a long time! Oh, and Pam is absolute riot.
Oh, and they tried to make me promise not to tell Eric, but I informed them that everything was going into the blog.
Maybe I'll remember more.......maybe not
Saturday was my mother's 50th birthday party. Let me preface this by saying that in my family, get togethers generally suck. The food sucks, and everyone just sits around and looks at each other. If there is a fair amount of alcohol going around, it's makes most of the family unbearable, especially my mother. It can be pretty excruciating. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to going. But go I did, and let me tell you, I have never had more fun around my family in my life. Ever.
To be fair, there wasn't a whole lot of family there. I'll try to remember the guest list as accurately as possible, though it won't matter to most of you anyway. My parents, my sister Jessica, her boyfriend David and his brother Steve, my Aunt Elaine and Uncle John, Aunt Rita, my dad's best friend (since 4th grade!) Albert, his ex-wife and about half of their 738 kids, including Lola, who I haven't seen in 20 years (and who looks pretty damn good), some of Albert's grandkids, a couple people dad works with, and lastly, my mother's best friend Pam and her son Patrick, who I also hadn't seen in 20 years or so. They drove from Tennessee to be there. That might be it. Oh! and Michelle. Now onto some of the highlights of the evening.
First, I arrived an hour late, hoping everyone would already be drunk and I could make a hasty exit. When I get there, my sister and Patrick are lining up Irish Carbombs. Well, this night may be a total loss after all, because those of you who really know me know my passion for an Irish Carbomb or 4. I decide I should at least have a beer first, so I go out onto the deck and there's a swimming pool full of Sam Adams. What, you mean it's not just Bud Light and Corona? Score!
So after a couple of beers and an Irish Carbomb or two, I'm feeling okay, mingling a bit, generally being the life of the party. I go into the kitchen to see my parents doing "Tic-Tacs". Apparently this concoction of Absolut Mandarin and Red Bull is supposed to taste like an orange Tic-Tac. I didn't partake, but my parents are throwing them back. Instead of getting annoying, however, my parents have really loosened up and are having fun. It's still really early in the evening, mind you.
I head into the dining room to gorge myself, because usually eating is all there is to do. I notice the music has cut off, and instead of listening to Santana 8 times in a row, I remembered I had my cds in the car, and I saved the evening with Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, and The Rolling Stones. The old folks are going nuts, especially since Jimi was live.
About the time I get back from the car with the cds, my father, Pam and Patrick are on the front porch. Well, apparently, Dad and Patrick had been in the backyard smoking weed. That's right. Now, I know my father did some shit when he was younger, and I know he smoked well into my teenage years, but he would NEVER have done it with us around or allowed us to know about it. On top of that, he did it with Patrick! Hell, I remember when that boy was in diapers. Anyway, I'm sure he expected me to be appalled to know he had been out back hitting the bowl, but instead I leaned toward Patrick and said "Why wasn't I invited to the party within the party?" The look on dad's face was absolutely priceless.
About this time, Steve is in the middle of going shot-for-shot, beer-for-beer with my Uncle John. Now, Steve is in his early 20s and is a United States Marine. Uncle John is closing in on 70 and hasn't been in great shape for, oh, 40 years. This turned out to be a huge mistake for Steve. The kid passed out on the couch before midnight and never moved another inch.
I will, at some point, be providing video of my mother and Albert dancing to "Under My Thumb" by The Stones. It's pretty damn funny.
But first, we are not done with the weed. Next thing I know, I'm in the backyard with Patrick, Pam, and my mother (my mother!). It was my mother who made me go. This however, is only the first episode. Later, Mom and Pam decide it's a great time to introduce Jennifer to the joys of getting high. Having never done it, she had no idea what to do with the bowl. Never fear, Aunt Rita is here. She's giving step-by-step instructions, and it's fucking hilarious. She's 60, for Christ's sake. Everyone is in the backyard being loud as hell, yelling things like "Hurry up and light it" and "Puff,puff, pass bitch! What are you doing" (that may have been me). And yet, no cops were called.
Next came the story-telling. This is a ritual at family gatherings, and probably the worst part. We've been hearing the same old stories for years and they just aren't funny anymore. Ah, but they are not the same old stories when you throw Pam into the equation. And me, being the life of the party that I am, kept the crowd going for quite some time. It's not often I laugh that hard or that much.
After a couple of Johnny Walkers (Gold!) with my father (wait, he doesn't know I poured myself another!) the party started to settle down. It was quite an unusual, and enjoyable, evening. Oh, except Elaine was really pissed at John for getting so drunk, but man was he funny. She didn't get pissy with everyone else, though. Rita managed to get through two conversations about Mary Beth without completely breaking down and having to leave. I enjoyed my sister's company, her boyfriend, by all accounts, is a genuinely good guy (a rarity indeed), my parents had a great time, and they're not going to be able to look me in the eye for a long time! Oh, and Pam is absolute riot.
Oh, and they tried to make me promise not to tell Eric, but I informed them that everything was going into the blog.
Maybe I'll remember more.......maybe not
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Can't I just get some Cheesecake Bites?
One of the girls at work comes in early this afternoon, and decides she's going to make a run to Tropical Smoothie. She goes around the restaurant and asks everyone if they might won't anything. I graciously decline. I'm not much of a smoothie person. Don't get me wrong; occasionally I like to add a little pizzazz to my life and get a smoothie when one of the girls goes, but usually I remember that I'm straight (sorry Jeff). Anyway, back to the point I was trying to make. Why is it that whenever I decline to partake in the fun and excitement of Tropical Smoothies, I'm looked upon as though I have three heads? Not everyone likes smoothies, folks. Not everyone likes Starbucks, either. I appreciate being asked, of course, and if you're going to Panera or Chick-Fil-A or Sonic (they really need to bring those cheesecake bites back), then I'm game. I shouldn't, however, have to get a smoothie because everyone else is getting one. I will not be a slave to conformity. I will not drink smoothies just to fit in. If I want one, I'll get one. If I don't, please don't look at me like I just killed your dog or slapped your grandmother. Oh, and don't call Jody. ;)
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Channeling my inner Chuck Norris
I was going to write about a completely different subject, but maybe I'll come back to that tonight. Something interesting happened to me on the way home. I had picked the kids up from the busstop and I was leaving the neighborhood when I came upon another school bus stopped in front of me, coming the opposite way. There was a car stopped in front of me, and the mailman was half-way into the street, turning right off of an adjoining street. While I'm sitting there, a white car (a Grand-Am from the late '90's, I think) pulls up behind the mailman at the stop sign. The schoolbus pulls off and the car in front and the mailman go ahead me. As I'm passing the white car, the driver decides to disregard the stop sign and try to jump ahead of me. This, of course, pisses me off because the car nearly ended up in my passenger seat. Naturally, I yell "Don't you see the stop sign stupid?!" I try very hard to refrain from cursing with the kids in the car. Anyway, at the red light leading out of the neighborhood, the white car pulls up beside me. Great, here we go. All of my windows are down, and so are all of his. The driver is a young black kid, maybe early 20's with a gold tooth and his hat turned backward. What he looks like is only significant because of what he thought it might represent to me. I could tell where this was going to go by the dialogue. He saw a white boy in the car and thought he might scare me by being tough. Anyway, here's how the conversation went verbatim(it was only 10 minutes ago):
Driver: "What did you say to me?"
Me: "I said 'Didn't you see that stop sign, stupid?'" (maybe I shouldn't have called him stupid, but I was a little steamed that he almost hit me, then stopped to question me, as though I disrespected him by yelling at him. Besides, he asked what I said, and that's what I said.)
Driver: "Yo, who do you think you're talking to?"
Me: "I'm talking to the guy who almost hit my car."
Driver: "Yo, you got a problem with me?"
Me: "I got a problem with your driving."
Now he gets out of his car. He's clearly not a threat to me, so I don't get out at this point. I think he was hoping I'd either roll up my windows and lock my doors so he could yell at me from a safe vantage point, or drive away. Sorry guy, I've had lots of black friends. Black people don't scare me. I could tell he may have started to come to this realization when he saw the brown kids in the back, because he never got closer than about 6 feet from my car.
Driver: "If you got a problem, why don't you step out of the car?"
Me: "Do you think this is cool to do in front of these kids? Are you some kind of tough guy?" Now I'm unbuckling my seat belt, and he visibly took a step back, maybe just to give me room to get out, maybe not: I don't know. "You don't want this kind of trouble, so I suggest you get back in your car before something bad happens."
He turns around as he saying "I just want to know if you have a problem with me." He looks back after he gets back around to the driver's side and gives me a dirty look before getting back in. Now, maybe it's wrong, but I got a small measure of satisfaction from his backing down. I also was surprised by two things. The first was the restraint I exhibited.
Now, I got into a few fights when I was younger, and when I'm threatened, my adrenaline runs high. I was never really cool under pressure, which is okay when you're in a fair fight with one guy. Here, I was clearly at a disadvantage, being that I was still in the car, and he was not. Ten years ago, I probably would have bolted out of the car to confront him and gotten kicked in the face before I could even get out of seat (at least that's what I would do if the situation was reversed). Also, when I'm angry, I curse alot, and that's usually when I start to lose control and my anger boils over. I have quite a temper. In this instance, however, I thought through a couple different scenarios of what I was going to do if I had to get out or he tried to get in. I guess the combination of having kids and being a restaurant manager has taught me patience and calm. Maybe that's part of getting older.
The second thing that surprised a me a little was the rage that I have inside me. I had a pretty good idea it was there, but not like this. I was just waiting, waiting for this guy to put me in a situation to defend myself. I already knew what was going to happen if he did, and it wasn't going to be pretty.
Now, I won't say I'm so angry that I'm going to go to the mall and start shooting people. It's nothing like that; however, I do on occasion wish someone would put me in a situation where I'm threatened and the law would be on my side when I pummel them. I guess it's just years and years of stress that I never talk about building up. Maybe I should take up boxing or martial arts. Actually, maybe T'ai Chi would be better.......I think this is also from having kids and being a restaurant manager.........
Driver: "What did you say to me?"
Me: "I said 'Didn't you see that stop sign, stupid?'" (maybe I shouldn't have called him stupid, but I was a little steamed that he almost hit me, then stopped to question me, as though I disrespected him by yelling at him. Besides, he asked what I said, and that's what I said.)
Driver: "Yo, who do you think you're talking to?"
Me: "I'm talking to the guy who almost hit my car."
Driver: "Yo, you got a problem with me?"
Me: "I got a problem with your driving."
Now he gets out of his car. He's clearly not a threat to me, so I don't get out at this point. I think he was hoping I'd either roll up my windows and lock my doors so he could yell at me from a safe vantage point, or drive away. Sorry guy, I've had lots of black friends. Black people don't scare me. I could tell he may have started to come to this realization when he saw the brown kids in the back, because he never got closer than about 6 feet from my car.
Driver: "If you got a problem, why don't you step out of the car?"
Me: "Do you think this is cool to do in front of these kids? Are you some kind of tough guy?" Now I'm unbuckling my seat belt, and he visibly took a step back, maybe just to give me room to get out, maybe not: I don't know. "You don't want this kind of trouble, so I suggest you get back in your car before something bad happens."
He turns around as he saying "I just want to know if you have a problem with me." He looks back after he gets back around to the driver's side and gives me a dirty look before getting back in. Now, maybe it's wrong, but I got a small measure of satisfaction from his backing down. I also was surprised by two things. The first was the restraint I exhibited.
Now, I got into a few fights when I was younger, and when I'm threatened, my adrenaline runs high. I was never really cool under pressure, which is okay when you're in a fair fight with one guy. Here, I was clearly at a disadvantage, being that I was still in the car, and he was not. Ten years ago, I probably would have bolted out of the car to confront him and gotten kicked in the face before I could even get out of seat (at least that's what I would do if the situation was reversed). Also, when I'm angry, I curse alot, and that's usually when I start to lose control and my anger boils over. I have quite a temper. In this instance, however, I thought through a couple different scenarios of what I was going to do if I had to get out or he tried to get in. I guess the combination of having kids and being a restaurant manager has taught me patience and calm. Maybe that's part of getting older.
The second thing that surprised a me a little was the rage that I have inside me. I had a pretty good idea it was there, but not like this. I was just waiting, waiting for this guy to put me in a situation to defend myself. I already knew what was going to happen if he did, and it wasn't going to be pretty.
Now, I won't say I'm so angry that I'm going to go to the mall and start shooting people. It's nothing like that; however, I do on occasion wish someone would put me in a situation where I'm threatened and the law would be on my side when I pummel them. I guess it's just years and years of stress that I never talk about building up. Maybe I should take up boxing or martial arts. Actually, maybe T'ai Chi would be better.......I think this is also from having kids and being a restaurant manager.........
Friday, March 2, 2007
I'm losing the will to blog....
Well, that horrible loss to Miami didn't hurt much, as UVA has all but wrapped their first outright ACC regular season title since 1981. Unbelievable. I'm rooting for Appalachian State to win their conference tourney just for the remote chance at some veangence for the Puerto Rico disaster.
It's almost baseball season, so I've already drafted 5 fantasy baseball teams with 4 more drafts to go. I'm sure I'm not done either, since I love drafting so much. I'm such a nerd.....
Speaking of which, anyone else hear about the 33-foot, 1000-pound colossal squid that those New Zealand fisherman caught off of Antartica about 3 weeks ago? (1)At 33 feet and 1000 lbs, it is by far the largest squid ever seen by man, (2)It was an adult male, which no one has ever seen before, (3)It was still alive when they caught it. I find this fascinating; again, I'm a nerd......
I wonder if signing London Fletcher and Fred Smoot(eek) is going to be as good for the Redskins as losing Derrick Dockery is going to be bad. I used to really hate that guy, but he's made vast improvement. He's going to have a really nice career, though $7 million a year is outrageous.
I don't feel like talking about tornados, snow storms, bus crashes, or dead former NBA players so I'll leave with this from my Bush Quote Generator on my home page:
"We need to do what we need to do to get the bodies out of there, if they're there."
- George W. Bush February 14, 2001 Referring to the tragic sinking of a Japanese fishing boat by a U.S. submarine near Hawaii. Reported in the Chicago Tribune.
Oh, more nerd stuff; this is kinda cool: Non-Newtonian Fluids
It's almost baseball season, so I've already drafted 5 fantasy baseball teams with 4 more drafts to go. I'm sure I'm not done either, since I love drafting so much. I'm such a nerd.....
Speaking of which, anyone else hear about the 33-foot, 1000-pound colossal squid that those New Zealand fisherman caught off of Antartica about 3 weeks ago? (1)At 33 feet and 1000 lbs, it is by far the largest squid ever seen by man, (2)It was an adult male, which no one has ever seen before, (3)It was still alive when they caught it. I find this fascinating; again, I'm a nerd......
I wonder if signing London Fletcher and Fred Smoot(eek) is going to be as good for the Redskins as losing Derrick Dockery is going to be bad. I used to really hate that guy, but he's made vast improvement. He's going to have a really nice career, though $7 million a year is outrageous.
I don't feel like talking about tornados, snow storms, bus crashes, or dead former NBA players so I'll leave with this from my Bush Quote Generator on my home page:
"We need to do what we need to do to get the bodies out of there, if they're there."
- George W. Bush February 14, 2001 Referring to the tragic sinking of a Japanese fishing boat by a U.S. submarine near Hawaii. Reported in the Chicago Tribune.
Oh, more nerd stuff; this is kinda cool: Non-Newtonian Fluids
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Wahoo
Nice job guys. Way to go into the gym of the worst team in the league and lose your hold on the conference title. Everyone's got them figured out now. Well, baseball season starts soon....
I'm sinking to the bottom of my everything.
So, I wonder sometimes if I did something wrong, or am I just destined to be this way? Is it something I can ever fix, or will I keep repeating the same cycle?
I feel like the walls are closing in; that even at 28, my life is running out on me. Thinking back, I can't say I ever remember a time when I was truly happy. I've had periods of contentment in my life. I've even had times where I felt like I found what I was looking for. Those times never lasted long. I wonder more and more often if I'll ever have what I want; if I'll ever be happy. Sometimes I think that whatever I get, it will never be good enough; that I always want more.
I know, I have kids to take care of, and I should put them before me, and I do; but what about me? I feel like I'm either doing something someone else wants me to do, or I'm doing nothing at all. Does it make me a terrible person to want to think about myself once in awhile? Maybe that's it. Maybe I shouldn't post this.....
I feel like the walls are closing in; that even at 28, my life is running out on me. Thinking back, I can't say I ever remember a time when I was truly happy. I've had periods of contentment in my life. I've even had times where I felt like I found what I was looking for. Those times never lasted long. I wonder more and more often if I'll ever have what I want; if I'll ever be happy. Sometimes I think that whatever I get, it will never be good enough; that I always want more.
I know, I have kids to take care of, and I should put them before me, and I do; but what about me? I feel like I'm either doing something someone else wants me to do, or I'm doing nothing at all. Does it make me a terrible person to want to think about myself once in awhile? Maybe that's it. Maybe I shouldn't post this.....
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