April 30, 2005
April 29, 2005
I kissed Beth's belly this morning and the Bean kicked back. I kissed again. Another kick. It went on like that a couple more times. Then I started feeling like maybe I was wearing out my welcome but really I wished to believe it was actually me she was responding to and I didn't want to be proven wrong. So I stopped.
I'm taking the day off...so I'm trying to decide exactly what I should do with the day. I was going to paint the nursery but its starting to rain and, unless I want to get high, I'm thinking a well-ventelated room is the way to go. Perhaps tomorrow. Maybe I'll start my iPod playlist for the baby. There are so many songs she needs to know...
I wish you all a monumentally happy Friday. Enjoy. And if you're feeling a little stressed out, just kick back and listen...this one's definitely going on the Bean's playlist.
April 28, 2005
Thursday Is The New Friday
Ok, so, maybe Thursday isn't really the new Friday but it is for me this week at least. I've worked a lot this past month so I'm taking a little time off. To do what, you ask? No clue. I'll figure that out in the morning. My Thursday, however, is all about meetings...starting at 8:30 this morning and ending around 3:00. They'll all be better than yesterday's though. I'm going to have bad dreams about that one for a while.
In an effort to get caught up on my email this morning, I checked out what got caught up in my spam filters. Have you ever noticed the names these things come from? Faustino Dumas, distant cousin of Alexandre no doubt, gave me a nice head's up about stock as did other concerned folks Guadalupe Chambers, Elvira Fair and Jamie Benitez. Juraj Aragon, who may or may not be a character from Lord of the Rings, thought it important that I have some Viagra. Co-workers Shimmel Schriber and Sheree Parr felt strongly about it too. Pamala Xiomara figured I might want to balance the Viagra out with some Vicodin (hell of a combination - "I'm horny but could care less!"). Software retailers apparently love me too - special shout-outs to Sherman Coates, Franklin Bragg and the one-named Fishbien. Who comes up with this stuff?
April 27, 2005
Audioblog: My Crappy Day
Well, I knew the day had some definitely crap potential...and I was right. But it could have been worse. Really.
When Shaving Goes Wrong
I made an interesting and, I'd venture important, discovery early this morning. See, I was shaving. I'd just smeared shaving cream all over my face and I'm one of those people who tends to use too much anyway. Then this odd feeling came over me. I tried to stifle it but I wasn't successful. I sneezed. And my sneezes are generally...robust. It wasn't pretty. It looked like a tub of Cool Whip blew up in there.
I'm off to a big, most likely stressful and unpleasant meeting this morning. Sadly its not close so it'll eat up most of the day. Happy Hump Day to you!
April 26, 2005
Tale of Two Cities (Denver, Actually)
A quick conversation, over dinner...
Me: So, what's the theme tonight?
Beth: What? What're you talking about?
Me: Tonight. Its the night of extremely high quality television.
Beth: Oh, that's right. Isn't it about time to roll out the washed up celebrities?
Me: I'd forgotten about that.
Beth: Oooh, Bob Denver! They could all sing Bob Denver songs!
Beth: Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: Bob Denver is Gilligan.
Me: Do you mean John Denver?
Me: Bob Denver...Little Buddy. John Denver...Rocky Mountain high country-boy.
Beth: I always kinda thought they were the same person.
Me: Nope. John Denver's dead so Bob's going to be vastly more entertaining.
Beth: They could all just sing the Gilligan's Island theme.
Me: Better than some of the crap they've been singing lately.
For future reference. Bob and John...
Search Strings & Site Stats
Its been a while since I checked out ye olde site stats. People out there in internetland never cease to amaze me with their unique searches. So, how did people end up here? Let's take a little journey, shall we?
Big hairy balls. Do I really need to elaborate or come up with a snide comment? That seems pretty self-explanatory to me.
Scarf face. Great flick. Al Pacino, illegal handbag distributor, gunning down highly accessorized people on the Paris runways, right?
Thumbwar. One...two...three...four...I declare...
Rooster testicles. I don't even want to know. Ok, I lied. I actually do what to know. So, whoever you are could you please explain this search?
Zit fetish. To the disturbed whack-job who authored this search: please never return. I can comprehend some fetishes but this ain't one of em. In fact, it really creeps my ass out. Please step away from the blog.
Penis hat. There's accessorizing then there's going all out! With respect to the hat itself, the age old question comes into play. Does size matter? Or does one size fit all? Inquiring minds want to know.
Scary dentist. They're all scary, my friends. All of 'em.
Bow chicka bow wow. Porn music loses something when its typed out. Actually all music does but especially porn music.
T shirt who threw poo. Ahh, the classic children's tale of a frustrated garment and fecal flinging fun.
Boy does chris suck. I'm rubber, you're glue...That said, fuck you and the search engine you rode in on.
Cat meatloaf position. What the fuck? Sick bastards.
Sweet fucking potatoes. One of my favorite things. For future reference, they go well with fresh fucking salad, a nice grilled fucking steak and a glass of French fucking wine.
I'm in hell. I'm at work. Same difference.
Are taser guns really bad? Depends on which side of the taser gun you're on, don't you think?
a e i o u and sometimes y and w. What kind of ghetto elementary school did you go to?
And two searches that struck me as very nice.
The meaning of home. I don't have all the answers but I hope you found a piece or two here.
I miss my grandma. I'm sorry. It'll get better. I promise.
My overall site stats are honestly mind-blowing. I'd like to give a huge shout-out to all of you whether you've landed here as a result of a bizarre and, in some cases, bone-chilling search or just drop by to read whatever it is I do here. Thank you.
April 25, 2005
Arias and Strawberry Shortcake (Redux)
Well, lets see where I left off...I told you the part about the Strawberry Shortcake dinner party, right? Sure, I didn't elaborate all that much but I thought the mystery added something. Oh, and before I forget, no, I didn't have my camera with me. I'm not too happy about that but I'll be attempting to bribe my dad for his pics.
The reasons for the Strawberry Shortcake affair weren't initially clear. It started off as a normal dinner party. That was the plan, as far as Beth and I were concerned. Of course, when we arrived, things had radically shifted into bizarre territory. The whole thing ended up being an impromptu baby shower, everyone taking advantage of the fact that so many family members were in town at the same time. There were, as I mentioned, crowns and glasses. I will say this - you haven't lived until you've seen your 90 year old great uncle sporting a pair of Strawberry Shortcake glasses. Its one of the previously undiscovered little pleasures in life. Highly recommended.
As much fun as all that was, the highlight of the evening was one of the many gifts we were given - a small, little-person sized table and chairs. Not any ordinary kid furniture, mind you. No. You see, when I was a kid visiting my grandparents, I used this pint-sized furniture. My cousins used it as well. It was built in the early 1940's by my great grandfather and great uncle. They owned a lumber yard in Ohio and, I guess in their spare time, they built furniture. Not only will the Bean have a cute place to sit, but a little bit of family history as well.
Yesterday, Beth and I met her parents for lunch at our favorite Indian place followed by an afternoon at...the opera! Feel free to back up and read that sentence again. Yes, I said opera. Can you believe I've made it through 32 years of life in this world and never been to the opera? I have to admit - I was pretty comfortable lacking that experience. To my surprise, however, it didn't suck nearly as much as I thought it would. I wouldn't go back tomorrow but it wasn't the Chinese water torture of a performance I expected.
So, that was the weekend...Strawberry Shortcake, parental madness, Faust, deals with the devil, arias and little furniture. What did you do?
Haiku For Monday #77
Misplaced: One weekend
Cloudy, cool and eventful.
Last seen with Friday.
April 24, 2005
Dinner Parties and Strawberry Shortcake
Saturday evening proved odd...and magical...modical? Beth and I were surrounded by four generations of family - my paternal grandmother, her son (my dad), her daughter (my aunt), her granddaughter (my cousin) and her great grandchildren along with my maternal great uncle. And while all that was every bit as heartwarming as it may sound - Hallmark would be proud and Lifetime would want to shoot an original movie - it also highlighed the fact that my mother is, indeed, quite insane.
Don't get me wrong. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. I'm not talking about a dismember kindly old neighbors who stop by for a cup of tea and bury their body parts in the backyard type of insane. She's genuinely well-intentioned but, sheesh, is she out there.
At least we had fun. I mean, how often do you get to go to a Strawberry Shortcake themed dinner party? Where the women are made to wear paper crowns and the men must accessorize with pink Strawberry Shortcake glasses? I'm guessing not often.
April 22, 2005
Spring Into The Weekend
Super Double Happy Friday Work From Home Dance
I cannot possibly express to you how wonderful it is to be working from home today. Stress levels? Way the hell down. Morale? Way the hell up. Sure, its rainy and generally crappy outside but do I care? Nope. No siree bob.
So, everyone...do the Friday dance and enjoy.
April 21, 2005
Me & Zippy
Remember a while back when I got a new car? Right. Everything has been going wonderfully between Zippy and I. You see, a bond has been forged. Zippy is functional yet sophisticated, all sleek and German. Zippy doesn't let me look like a typical lame 30-something guy behind the wheel of any old station wagon. No, Zippy looks out for me like that. Zippy tolerates the fact that I occasionally leave Dunkin Donuts bags lying on one of her floormats. And the fact that I often leave the backseat littered with ties. Zippy is forgiving. But Zippy and I? Well, I think we've had some miscommunication going on. Perhaps she doesn't think I'm worthy of driving her any longer.
For the last week, I've noticed that Zippy has a mind of her own. She accellerates all by herself, with little input from me. I don't know about you, but that's a little unnerving to me. Zippy, what the hell are you doing, I wonder. Hmmm, maybe I'm on a downhill slope or something...but I'm not. Holy crap, will I be able to stop? Yet I always am and things eventually go back to normal. I've noodled it through quite a bit and I haven't been able to figure out what's causing Zippy to fail me so sporadically. Until this afternoon.
Zippy is an uncomplicated car. And I'm no rocket scientist but I've been able to figure the whole thing out pretty easily. I know which buttons to push, which switches to flip. There's one little toggle switch I really enjoy playing with. I never really paid attention to the label - cruise control.
I remember getting my hair cut yesterday evening. I remember picking up Chinese afterwards (the food, not random Chinese people). I remember cleaning up around the house and working until around 10:00. After that? I don't remember too much. Beth had a work thing. I don't remember exactly when she got home but she found me passed out on the bed. She told me to get into bed. I did. Then it was 5:00 this morning and I was up getting ready for work.
I think I might have worked a bit too much lately. Big meeting this morning. Then? Maybe I'll be able to relax. Sorry if I've been a bad blogger. I'll try to remedy that soon.
April 20, 2005
Perspective...And The Bean
I've been working my ass off. I mean, there's some ass left but at this rate it'll be gone by the end of the week. I've got a big presentation tomorrow, something I've been working towards for pretty much the last four months. I feel like I haven't slept in, oh, about 3918 days and I've had a headache for just about as many. So it was pretty amazing when I saw the Beanette this morning, six weeks older and bigger, and the world pretty much melted away.
Beth and I had a sonogram appointment first thing this morning. And we got to see our little girl. She's in there, her heart's beating strongly and her arms and legs are moving around. Its probably a little uncomfortable for Beth but it sure is a wonderful sight to see. While the stresses of the every day world sucked me back in, it reinforced perspective. Some things pay the bills...others are truly important.
That said, its 8:20 and I'm still working.
Action and Idol Dorkyness
Dayum, yesterday was action-packed, but not in a cool Jet Li, exploding building kind of way. It was much more boring than that and revolved around editing documents and getting presentations together. Hardly a Die Hard sequel. Today? More of the same. But before I do all that work crap, I have to admit to something - I'm an American Idol fan. I even vote.
That said, did anyone watch last night? Because if you did, I have a serious question for you - were the judges watching the same performances Fox was beaming to our televisions to watch in the comfort of our own homes? The performances? Sucked! At least most of them did. Yet Randy and Simon seemed to dig them. Paula? Well, she likes everything and I'm pretty sure she's smoking crack during the breaks. Oh...and Constantine officially creeps me out. What do you women see in him?
April 19, 2005
Hello and welcome to another throwaway post! I'm alive. I've been working pretty much non-stop since 7:00 this morning and am pretty much about to drop. So, I think I'll go slip into something a bit more comfortable (thankfully, I'm at home) and try to catch up on all the wonderful email messages you guys sent me.
Yep...it was a throwaway post. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Cactus On Location
Whew...all that sleeping, non-work time flies by just about as quickly as the weekend! I'm back at work but working out of a different office today. So I won't be around much. So, talk amongst yourselves. Topics include:
- Why were two adults hitting rocks at each other with baseball bats behind a drug store on my way to work? Keep in mind it was 6:00 AM!
- Detroit - rockin' motor city or fifth circle of hell (no offence to those of you from Detroit)?
- What do the lyrics from American Pie by Don McLean mean?
April 18, 2005
The Burping Cat
Excuse me. While I in no way want to spoil the mood of that last post (no, not the one of me shooting you all the middle finger although that wasn't directed at you, I swear), I have to share something. As I'm sitting here trying to catch up on my blogrolls, my cat, delicate flower that she is, is sitting here burping repeatedly. And its really loud. She weighs nine pounds! Sounds as loud as these are some perversion of the laws that govern reality.
Sorry...back to what you were doing...
Time. Memory. Smell.
I blatantly stole this from someone. Not specifically this exact same thing but the general concept. So, to whomever that is, my bad. Between conducting meetings, overseeing a team of 15 people on one project, four on the other and somehow crossing stuff off my "to do" list, the fact that I caught up on any blogs at all is somewhat amazing to me. But I digress.
Seems to me - and I'm no scientist - that the mind is like an incredibly small but efficient filing system. But instead of being fuelled by data or paper, its shaped by senses. Each piece of information you gather about the world is tagged and filed away for later use.
Growing up, I used to make the journey from Texas to Ohio to visit my father's parents. I have literally no memory of how we got there and back but I'll never forget their house, primarily because of the way it smelled. Were it music, I'd have some technical jargon to throw at you that could describe how something sounded but not how it felt. I've never really thought about the language used to describe smells before but I do realize that my vocabulary is ill-equipped to describe odors of any sort. You'll just have to excuse me for that. Maybe it was the vegetables they raised and - in the great spirit of the Midwest - canned. It could have been all the strong German food my grandfather insisted on eating. Or the beer he drank, a mug a gulp. It could even be the attitude in that house - one of startling indifference and pent-up anger on my grandfather's part and cool consolation on my grandmother's. But none of those things seem right.
Whatever it was, I've never experienced the smell outside the context of my grandparents. And never expected to, frankly. A few years back, I heard they were moving into a smaller place. My grandfather's health had started to slide and my grandmother, who was still insisting on performing a true spring cleaning every year, warmed up to the idea of something more manageable. My first thought wasn't oh how great or it'll be so nice for them to have a new place. No, I worried about the smell. I thought it would be lost to me forever. I needn't have worried. It followed.
My grandfather now lives in a nursing home. He's suffering from Alzheimer’s and can only get around in a wheelchair. Although I hear he does pretty well with that and no one need feel sorry for him on that count. He doesn't speak English anymore, favoring German instead. He acts, for the most part, like a child. My grandmother copes wonderfully. I suspect she's finally happy to be out of his shadow, although I know she'd rather have accomplished this any other way. She visits him every day and writes notes to Beth and I about how much we should value our time together. She should know. But, even knowing what I know now and seeing what I've seen, the smell of their house takes me back to a day many years ago. A day during which my grandfather fired up his riding lawnmower, put me on his knee and drove me around his neighborhood waving to everyone.
There's probably some deep and startling parallel between the riding lawnmower and the wheelchair or the fact that all he can do now is wave. I'm sure I could dig deep and pull some Hallmark worthy stuff out but that seems cheesy at best. No, just close your eyes and, as counterintuitive as it may sound, picture a smell let it trigger a memory and follow it back through time.
Yesterday, Beth and I took the Beanette (in utero, of course) to the zoo! I'm sure she just figured we were doing an extra amount of walking or something but it was a beautiful day.
...click here to see all the pics...
The rest of the weekend was just as glorious as the trip to the zoo. Most exciting of all (to me) was the arrival of a new mattress. You see, when we bought our Ikea bedroom furniture, we also bought one of their mattresses. Ikea furniture? Awesome. Ikea mattresses? Terrible. So after a year of sleeping in utter discomfort, and for the sake of my now-chronically uncomfortable pregnant wife, we bought a super-duper top of the line pillow top mattress that truly must be made with the primary components of angels' wings and rainbows. Trust me - it was hard leaving it behind this morning. And? We shopped for a new tree. We lost our plum tree last year and are finally getting around to replacing it. Tree-hunting pictures later this week.
Now...its Monday. I'm not happy about that but we're all in this together and we'll survive.
Haiku For Monday #76
Is it me, or did
the weekend only last, oh,
three or four minutes?
April 16, 2005
Day In The Life
April 15, 2005
Straight From The iPod
Come Downstairs and Say Hello by Guster
Another Week, Another Friday
You're probably already aware of this but...its Friday!! What you're probably not aware of...I'm working from home today! Its a beautiful day, the sun is shining and the windows are open. And I'm really working hard...
Enough about me. What are your plans for the weekend?
April 14, 2005
Sowing Wild Hall & Oates
We're close enough now that I think I can admit certain things to you. We can talk about the hard issues. I know you'll be honest with me and, most importantly, you won't judge me. This is hard to talk about but I'll try. You see, yesterday I found myself surfing iTunes for Hall & Oates songs. As with most things, it's all American Idol's fault. Hell, Hall and Oates were there in the audience. The music they made is addictive, like little rocks of musical crack. And there I was bending over the pipe in the dark alleyways of guilty pleasures.
It gets worse...
I continued surfing and wandered into territory made familiar to me by my childhood. I'll admit to checking out (but not buying...please keep that in mind) the Seals & Crofts greatest hits album along with Year of the Cat by Al Stewart. Worst of all? John Denver. I ran across the four CD anthology and played clip after clip. And though it frightens me to the very core of my being, I knew almost all of the words. Despite the fact that never has there been a more soul-less white man to strum a guitar in the history of the planet, I kinda liked some of the stuff.
After realizing what I'd been doing and coming to my senses, I immediately cranked Velvet Revolver in an attempt to restore some semblance of balance to the universe and thumb my nose at the old person taking up part of my brain, essentially saying: Hey, I'm young, internal old dude, and I rock! Bleeding eardrums are cool! Fucking-A, lets mosh!
Now, I know I'm not alone. What are your guiltiest musical pleasures?
April 13, 2005
Cord Cutting and The Carnival Of Horrors
Ten minutes ago, apropos of nothing...
Her: Are you going to cut the umbilical cord?
Me: Wha? That's oogy.
Her: If you're not, I am.
Me: Maybe we could each, you know, take half the scissor things and do it together.
Her: I'm thinking one of us should probably have a firm grasp.
Me: You're probably right. I'm not sure I could do that though.
Her: Well, you could at least wait until its done pulsating.
Me: Pulsating? I'd have to claw my eyes out afterwards. I'll hold off on making that decision.
Her: There's also the spurting.
Me: The spurting.
Her: Yeah, its pretty much a giant fountain of blood and gore hitting you in the face. They clean it up for TV. But that's what really happens.
Me: Riiiight. Wait, what's my birthday again? Oh, here it is - "not yesterday." Nor do I think our delivery will be quite such a carnival of horrors.
Her: Did you say carnival of whores?
Me: Horrors. Hor.Rors.
Her: Good. No whores in the delivery room, okay?
As Beth and I were sitting around on the couch watching a little television the other night our little Beanette starting dancing in-utero. Beth grabbed my hand, placed it on her stomach and, mere seconds later, I got kicked.
Can I tell you what a freaky and cool feeling that is? No. Because its really difficult to put it into words. There's someone inside my wife, who I helped create, who will, eventually, come out into the world screaming, spitting up and pooping. Who will eventually learn to speak and communicate and write and argue and take the car in the middle of the night without my permission so she can hook up with a guy with pierced bits and long hair who I will disapprove of because, although he is probably quite like I was at that age, he's toying with my daughter and that just ain't right. And? He's probably quite like I was at that age and that's some scary shit.
It starts with a kick. Where it leads, I'm not sure. I've never done this before. But I can't wait to find out. Well, except for some of that pooping and spitting up...but that's par for the course.
April 12, 2005
Presentation? Not So Much
For the record...the presentation went well. So well, in fact, that I don't remember it. Yep. Time just flew by. Oh. Wait. Maybe its because they ran out of time and never got around to me. That could be it.
Thanks for the encouragement everyone. Hopefully I can bottle it for the next time I really need it!
With Monday behind us all, I'd like to think that the worst part of the week is over. But...well...not so much. Aside from the fact that I haven't slept much in two days and I've got a killer headache, well, its not going to be a pleasant day. You see, while I might seem marginally confident and together (sometimes) here, I'm not always like that. And one of the things that scares me to my very soul is stading up in front of a group of people to give a presentation. Which is precisely what I've got to do this afternoon.
I suppose it could be worse. I could be...
...back in college, just waking up to the realization that I have a final in five minutes and skipped class so often I have no idea where the classroom is
...one of those dudes that empties septic tanks for a living and drives one of those big-ass trucks full of god knows what (but god really does know and so do we...ew) all day long
...one of Michael Jackson's kids
...in prison, having been falsely accused and tried after being set up by a one-armed man
...under attack by evil, alien forces sent on a mission to uproot humanity from the solar system and mine the earth for its vast quantities of Twinkies and romance novels, without which their civilization will be unable to maintain itself for more than another five pixtrons (roughly equivalent to a thousand of our earth years)...
So, yeah, I guess it could be worse. Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. I should be reporting back in, oh, about another .0015 pixtrons.
April 11, 2005
The First iPod
Just a little while ago, ABC News and the New York Times told me that the President has
gonorrhea an iPod. My first reaction? Well, that's kinda cool, the President using an iPod and stuff but then - shock of all shocks - he kinda let me down. Turns out Dubya doesn't have a lot of time to surf the virtual wide aisles of the music superhighway so he pawns the downloading duties off on personal aide Blake Gottesman or media strategist Mark McKinnon.
Personally, if I ever get too important to pick my own tunes, it isn't worth doing anymore. Even the leader of the free world should take some time to pick his own music. Beth disagrees, thinking its better he focus on other, more important stuff. I'm left to wonder what more important things Dubya possibly has to ponder.
When Coins Go Bad
Here's another geeky thing about me you didn't know - I dig coins. I mean, I don't collect them or anything but I think they're interesting. And when I said I don't collect them just a few seconds ago, I guess I kinda lied because I do have one of those books in which you can keep all fifty of those new state quarters. So, I thought it was really cool when, over the weekend, someone handed me one of the new nickels. Then I looked at it closely and it kinda freaked me out.
Am I the only one who sees the giant bison penis? And if that isn't a giant bison penis, just what the hell is it? And if it is, is it in the right place?
While I've never given it any thought before now, I'm all for accuracy in coinage. But isn't it a little odd that Janet Jackson can't slip a tit on television without the world erupting in a sinister display of moral decency and begin advocating censorship willy-nilly while the government - the same one that levied fines against each of the outlets that broadcast said nipple slippage (nippage? slipple?) - is minting coinage emblazoned with giant bison dicks? And even if, somehow, that's not a giant bison dick but some other bizarre hitherto unknown bison appendage, people are going to look at it and think boy, that bison sure is happy to be on the nickel because, frankly, we all have dirty minds.
Word to the government, yo - be consistent. Oh, and one suggestion to make that silver dollar thing work should you ever try it again - Susan B. Anthony...topless.
Haiku For Monday #75
This weekend? Painting!
And paint is like Carrot Top
Turns up everywhere
April 10, 2005
Consider spring officially sprung...
April 9, 2005
A Little Springtime Tunage
It is an absolutely gorgeous day in these here parts. So, here's what everyone needs...some groovy, warm bluesy tunage to go along with the blue skies.
Up In Flames by Joe Satriani
April 8, 2005
Are you all completely tired of my boring, half-assed entries yet? I promise that, in the very near future, I'll make a whole-assed attempt. I'll throw both cheeks into the effort. I'm certainly not going to be able to start this morning because I got practically no sleep last night. But this morning? I visited my usual morning coffee and doughnut place. One of the very kind ladies who runs the place is retiring. And I didn't realize it until I was out of there but she gave me a bonus doughnut. How nice is that? Is there anything better on a rainy Friday morning than a bonus doughnut? I think not. Unless, of course, you're giving me the day off.
Enough about me...what are your plans for the weekend? And if you don't have any, make up something really exciting.
April 7, 2005
Wake Up Time
You ever hear a song and it just connects? You just sit there and think whoa, man...uh...whoa? I was headed back from a meeting this morning and flipped on the iPod and bang - song to cactus connectivity. I can't tell you why. Not because I don't want to but because I don't know. Anyway, it goes a little something like this...
Wake Up Time (Tom Petty)
You follow your feelings, you follow your dreams
You follow the leader into the trees
And what's in there waiting, neither one of us knows
You gotta keep one eye open the further you go
You never dreamed you'd go down on one knee, but now
Who could have seen, you'd be so hard to please somehow
You feel like a poor boy, a long way from home
You're just a poor boy, a long way from home
And it's wake up time
Time to open your eyes
And rise and shine
You spend your life dreaming, running 'round in a trance
You hang out forever and still miss the dance
And if you get lucky, you might find someone
To help you get over the pain that will come
Yeah, you were so cool back in high school, what happened
You were so sure not to have your spirits dampened
But you're just a poor boy alone in this world
You're just a poor boy alone in this world
And it's wake up time
Time to open your eyes
And rise and shine
Well, if he gets lucky, a boy finds a girl
To help him to shoulder the pain in this world
And if you follow your feelings
And you follow your dreams
You might find the forest there in the trees
Yeah, you'll be alright, it's just gonna take time, but now
Who could have seen you'd be so hard to please somehow
You're just a poor boy alone in this world
You're just a poor boy alone in this world
And it's wake up time
Time to open your eyes
And rise and shine
'Cause it's wake up time
It's time to open your eyes
And rise and shine
Yesterday? She was a long one. Long as the Nile but as deep as a glass of tepid water. I'm not sure what that means but how's that for a compound simile first thing in the morning?
I made it into the office yesterday around 6:30, only to leave for DC an hour later. After a conference that lasted until noon, I fought crosstown traffic (on the third stone from the sun until I was stone free of the traffic's purple haze and manic depression...sorry...caught up in Hendrix references), worked at a client site for a few hours followed by two back-to-back meetings. I ended up back at the office, heading for home 12 hours later. And I guess those long days are good occasionally - they force you to appreciate all the puny eight hour ones.
One thing I'd forgotten about is how badly this town is overrun by tourists this time of year. Its all the fault of the Japanese for giving us those cherry trees a while back. People flock in droves (are flocks and droves mutually exclusive?) to see them and, having spied them several times yesterday, the tourists are definitely onto something. It is a gorgeous city this time of year. Sadly, pedestrians have the right of way...so you might as well walk. Driving certainly won't get you anywhere unless you're comfortable plowing through visiting families and groups of high school students. Which I don't recommend. That's a good way to screw up your car and body work is expensive.
There's no random iPod playlist this morning. Why? Because I'm listening to Engineers. Its available via iTunes now and will be released here in June (or so says Amazon). Should you check it out? Absolutely!
April 6, 2005
Hump Day Multiple Choice
Here's a hump day multiple choice question for you. Who's not going to be around much of the day because he's tied up in meetings and conferences in DC the whole damn day?
A. His Holiness, The Pope
B. Television's Johnny Carson
C. Me, Rude Cactus
D. Former Eight Is Enough star Willy Ames
E. Rock Legend Jimi Hendrix
If you guessed C, you are completely and utterly brilliant yet, sadly, correct. Its supposed to be 80...eight-ohhh...degrees out there today. Why would I want to spend that inside? I don't. So, enjoy it for me, okay? And if I haven't been by your site in a while, my humble apologies. Its been a busy few days and I'm just now digging myself out. Anyway, Happy Hump Day!!
April 5, 2005
I might have stumbled onto musical genius. Wait. I think its actually just talentless, dorky crap. Yeah. That's it. Anyway, I discovered Warp 11, a punk/hardcore band with...wait for it...a Star Trek obsession. No, I'm not making this up. I don't have that kind of imagination this early.
2001 saw Warp 11's debut release, Suck My Spock, which brought us instant classics like Wormhole, Montalban, and, of course, the stirring title track. The band's 2002 followup, Red Alert reaffirmed their place as the
only best Star Trek hardcore/punk band in the universe, delivering knockouts like Suds Me Up Sulu, Warpcore On The Dancefloor, and Everything I Do (I Do With William Shatner). This year, Warp 11 returned, unleashing Boldly Go Down On Me. And how can you go wrong with songs like Rage Against The Federation, Give It Up For The Captain, and - my personal favorite - Set Your Phasers to Fuck?
To set the record straight, I do not own any of this stuff...nor am I planning to. Really. I swear. Don't look at me like that...
April 4, 2005
The Monday Recap
It was a busy, but good, weekend. Here's what it looked like...
There are more...head over to the Flickr galleries for all the photos!
First things first...Friday. I worked from home which was nice but, in keeping with the major theme of stress and overwork, I was busy! Once the business world decided to leave me alone (step off!) I had some time to finish taping off the nursery. I was hoping to get it primed this weekend but the cold, wet weather just wouldn't let me. As a double happy bonus surprise, though, I did manage to electrocute myself. I was impressed too. Nothing like a nice jolt of electricity to get the weekend off to a good start! On the plus side, Brenda called and we set something up for Saturday. Of course, I didn't exactly make a good first impression, what with just having been electrocuted and all.
Having decided on a late lunch/early dinner in Georgetown with Brenda and her sister, Beth and I headed into the District early to hit the art galleries. Despite the ongoing monsoon, there were still tons of tourists out to see the cherry blossoms but it was nice to hang out downtown for a while. The weather improved by the time we left and we were able to successfully rendezvous with our out of town guests and have a wonderful meal over completely inappropriate conversation. Don't ask. You may think you want to know but you don't. Really. Then we drove home. In a massive hail storm. How's that for karma?
Now, a question - did you all remember that whole spring ahead/fall back thingy? Because Beth and I totally didn't. Until noon yesterday. By which time we were convinced that there was something really fucked up going on in the world. Once we noodled it through, we went looking for baby furniture. And, um, can I tell you how much baby furniture there is to choose from? No, I can't. Because there's way too much. I'm half-tempted to just put a blindfold on, walk to the center of the store, rotate and point. It would be just about as effective. Of course that would be the one crib that gets recalled. Between the conspiracy to alter time and the stress of looking at 384,291 cribs, we were worn out, headed home and watched the last four episodes of 24 season one. Oh, and hooked the iPod up to Beth's belly for The Beanette. And in case you're wondering, she listened to Massive Attack.
It was truly a wonderful weekend, the best part of which was all the good time spent with Beth. Now, how about you? How was your weekend?
Haiku For Monday #74
Not pleased 'bout Monday
But for two great days with Beth?
Totally worth it.
April 2, 2005
The Weekend...So Far
Despite the fact that it was absolutely pouring, Beth and I drove into the District early and hit the National Gallery of Art to catch a Rembrandt exhibit as well as the work of Edward Ruscha. Both turned out to be wonderful but I was especially fond of Ruscha's stuff.
After the exhibit? Off to a late lunch. bmh and her sister put up with our dorkdom for a couple of hours, despite their busy schedules, and I truly enjoyed the chance to meet them. There was talk of the Pope, the President, Jesus, boxes, glowing religious icons and ascots. Clearly, we were trying to squeeze a lot of stuff into a short amount of time. It was a wonderful.
Pictures will be on their way soon...right now? Bed.
April 1, 2005
Opening The Prize Closet
Its Friday (yay!) and I'm still insanely busy (boo!) but I did want to follow through on my earlier offer of prizes! I'm sad to say that the tickets for Uzbekistan have fallen though...something about freedom fighters. However Jay has won a sparkly, custom-made Cactus Compliation CD ("the triple C"). Thanks to everyone for siging up.
Happy Friday...back to work...grumble...