Travesty!

Friends and neighbors, I have just heard that a northside tradition, Marigold Bowl, will be closing on 21 May. This is severly terrible news.

What makes it worse? Chicondo earns its monicker yet again- the building is being sold to a condo developer.

There will be bowling. It will happen soon.

"Like a yard full of chicken nuggets."

I didn't make it up. I didn't say it. This article quotes a guy saying it, though. More like paraphrasing than quoting, but you get my drift. It's funny.

And I don't know how long it will last, but CNN.com has a picture of what I can only call the skeleJackson. I'll try to post it later, when I figure out how to post pictures.

Damn, I am lazy.

I got nothin'.

No, I really, really don't.

Maybe there'll be something later.

Updated!

Check it out!

Paging Michael Stipe

It hasn't been a bad day per se, it's not been a good one, though.

I argued with customers, with a trade desk, and the servers were fubar'ed again today, just not for nearly as long. No one, and I mean none of my friends wrote me a single e-mail today. Don't you guys know that that's how I survive? Geez.

I did get paid today, a whopping day early. Now, if my refund check is waiting in my mailbox when I get home, I'll be a whole lot richer. Too bad it's already all spent. Someone should look into this.

It feels later than it is today. It's rather difficult to explain.

I'm off.

Now taking applications!
UPDATED!

Wanted: female life partner. Should have more than a passing interest in sports, like cats, and enjoy music and good movies.

Non-marriage minded need not apply.

Tax cuts are to be had, people! Time to rally!

I am serous about this. I'm not joking in the slightest. Although I do not wish to marry soley for tax breaks, it seems like a good way to meet people.

And to answer the other comments, applications can be sent to daveahrens@gmail.com. Unless, of course, you live within shouting distance of my front door. Applications are then taken in person.

Myspacers can find me here. Friensdters, sadly, have to be within some bizarre number of degrees of separation to find me, so bollocks to Friendster.

EOW

You'd think I'd have learned by now.

It amazes me, that when I have friends come to town, even though I'm well aware of my exhaustion and general fatigue, that I would agree to go out and have drinks starting at 9:30 on a weeknight. However, as has been prooved repeatedly in the past, I will do almost anything a pretty girl asks me to do, no matter how tired I am, and that I was out relatively late last night.

Relatively late, of course, has changed for me in the last 6 months, and not entirely because I turned 30, to be fair to my soon-to-be-30 friends. It was more because I have a new job where I start work at 7, and I have a 30 minute commute to get here.

So, 10 out of 10 for having fun with friends I haven't hung out with in ages, but minus several million for intelligence points, no?

Adrenaline

Around about halfway through my rather tasty(I was surprised, too) Lean Cuisine Steak Teriaki, our servers went down. They've been down since then. It's been a madhouse around here, what with one guy leaving for class at 12, and another leaving at 12:30. The up shot is that constantly answering phones and even arguing with customers who decide to bitch extensively about the problem has woken me up.

Good morning, sunshine. Now I need a drink.

doot, doot, doot

I'm so tired.

I'm not sure what it is, but I'm just exhausted. I think maybe turning 30 takes its toll on a body.

Could be that burning the candle at both ends and putting the candle over and open fire isn't the wisest thing to do. We'll just have to see.

I'm sure I'll rant about something later on, but for now, not a whole lot.

I don't have the energy.

Why adjectives are so damn important.

I was casually reading through fark.com when I came across this article, and was frankly amazed and befuddled as to how anyone could hide $2.7 Million of cocaine in a thong. There are, of course, two major obstacles to this: 1) I don't know that much about women's clothing, but I'm pretty sure I know what a thong is, and what it looks like. 2) I've never purchased or used cocaine, so I have no idea of what $2.7 Million worth of it would look like(even after all the movies with drugs in them that I have seen, I have no idea). In addition, the little blurb from fark was "Airport security finds $2.7million worth of cocaine in woman's thong." This is misleading, as they're talking about a male passenger carrying a suitcase with platform thongs(that would be shoes, kids).

Now, I get it.

A funny thought just crossed my mind.

I was thinking about my weekend, and about how I tend to joke endlessly, and the not necessarily positive side effect of that is that initially, when people get to know me, they don't take me terribly seriously. This conjured up an old, old memory of my senior year of high school, when I asked a girl who would later be my high school sweetheart to a dance. When I asked her if she wanted to go to another school's dance, she said "I wanted to go to our dance, why didn't you ask me?" My reply was that I had, but there was no reply, to which she said "I thought you were joking." It makes me laugh to think about that now. It also makes me think about how people perceive me now.

My friend A and I have developed a very good friendship, but if you had been there at the beginning, when she was dating my friend S, you would have thought we'd never have more than 2 words to exchange. It's not that we didn't get along, it was just that she has since changed her perception of me- from a Casanova-esque crazy guy who parties too much to a devoted friend and stand-up guy who just happens to still party too much. I guess reality is somewhere in between- the way it should be. I'd rather not be in the black or white, but somewhere in the grey area, although these two examples are not exactly polar opposites, but you get my drift.

It's all about perception. Now, I could use a nap.

Don't let the door hit you on the ass as it slams shut!

My least favorite person in the news is going to jail. He has a lot of competition, but this guy really scares me.

Why and how could I be afraid of someone like him?

Because he's scary, and his beliefs scare me. I can't say that about most people, but I sure as hell can about him.

Good Riddance!

A reminder to Billy Joel

In case you haven't heard, the world's greatest driver did it again. To extend the joke/metaphor/whatever, people in regular houses should let aging pop stars drive through them.

Wanted: Drummer, Guitarist, possibly accordion player:

I've been a fan of hockey, well, for my whole life. What I've never considered doing is starting a band so I can sing about it.

Now that I've got, well, absolutely no spare time on my hands, why not try to start a band again? I'll even play bass, so I don't have to play guitar- applications will be taken in comments. It would help if you can sing, too.

An explanation of my lack of presence:

I was around all weekend, and didn't bother to blog, right? No. Not true. I wrote a lovely recap of the hockey game I went to on Friday, along with sharing my two new favorite taunts. It became lost in cyberspace when my computer, in all it's Windows ME glory, decided it didn't want to work right then.

I was, as expected, somewhat pissed.

After this, I decided it was high time I got on my bike, and managed only about 3 miles before my shoulder hurt too much to keep going. I was again, somewhat pissed. After all, I've got slightly more than 2 months to have myself in shape for this ride, and if I'm sidelined two weekend in a row, I'm not getting anywhere fast. After giving up and finding some food and taking some painkillers and watching Hamburger Hill, I went to my friend J's house, where I was going to earn my keep by fixing her entertainment center, and because she is so good-natured, inherit my old desk back. It has been pointed out to me that one of the things I shouldn't be doing with a bad shoulder is perhaps avoiding doing manual labor and moving around furniture. This is a valid concern, and an excellent point about how I rarely follow the good advice, even when I realize it is the logical thing to do. At least I'm not bowling.

Yesterday I wasted almost the entire day, sitting on the computer. I can't say I didn't have fun, and I did get laundry and ironing done for the whole week, but there was so much more I wanted to get done. It happens. I wasn't in the mood to clean, even though I really, really need to. Pub quiz last night was fairly blaze. I wasn't really in the mood, despite not having gone in a couple weeks. I guess hosting your own can take the excitement out of participating. Something like that. Hopefully I'll be more interested next week. We'll just have to see.

So, the taunts, which I mentioned earlier:

"I didn't realize it was Braille night!" That's for the refs, obviously.

And, for Joey MacDonald, goalie for the Grand Rapids Griffins(it should be noted that their website includes links so you can send the players e-mail- this is far too tempting for me), a collaborative effort of my friend T and myself:

"Old MacDonald was a sieve, S-I-E-V-E
And in his net, he had a puck, S-I-E-V-E
With a goal scored here,
And a goal scored there,
Here a goal, there a goal,
Everywhere a goal scored,
Old MacDonald was a sieve, S-I-E-V-E"

I'm sure you all can imagine, what with 4 goals in the first period, good old MacDonald getting pulled before the end of the first, and 3 more goals in the second, my voice was pretty well shot before the third period started. My solution was, after we got to the bar after the game, to drink my vodka tonics with lemon instead of lime. Probably the only reason I can talk today, actually.

Good times.

Initial review of Gmail by Google

It's positive. I love the keyboard shortcuts. They make my life so much easier.

Not to mention I can load the shit up with all kinds of junk, and still have light-years of space left. The day I fill this mofo up, I'll throw a huge party.

See you in 20 years.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again...

Zero tolerance doesn't work. Add to that that our illustrious TSA is a totalitarian organization.

Here's my recent experience, now compare and contrast that to this woman's experience. It's disgusting, and sad. It's really unfortunate that things like this happen, because they make people like me angry, but is there truly anything we can do about the TSA? Not really. Unless I get elected president in 2008(my first eligible year to rule) and abolish it. But let's be realistic. That's 4 years away, and I've probably got too many skeletons in my closet to make it in public office on a national level. I'm sure they'd dig up something juicy that would piss everyone off.

The point is that our abilities to get around our once free country are now hampered by the TSA. It used to be you could get on a plane and go somewhere with relative ease. I remember visiting the cockpit when I was about twelve, and getting my very own set of wings from the pilots. That was cool. On my flight back this weekend, I managed to glance into the cockpit as I walked onto the jet, and got some seriously nasty looks. What's that about? Do I fit some strange al-Qaeda profile as a bald man of largely European ancestry? Is this why I always have to take off my shoes? Is this why I have to have the zipper of my pants wanded?

You know, I didn't want to soapbox about this too much, but I've struck a vein in myself that just hasn't shut up yet. Fortunately for me, this country is like your family. You can love it with your complete heart, and hate it vehemently at the same time. Let's face it, in some countries, the previous paragraphs would land me in jail or in front of a firing squad. I love my personal freedoms, those that I still have, that is, and am not ready to give them up to GWB or the Patriot Act or the TSA or anything like that.

I'm rambling, or at least, I've lost my train of thought. I am a little too angry about this, after all.

Who needs a drink?

On beta testing, and attitude adjustments.

Yesterday was not a good day for me, for reasons I don't really want to get into. It's just better that way, trust me.

I am, however, beta testing Gmail, the Google e-mail experience.

In reality, I'm just happy to have 1GB of potential mailbox.

That can be dangerous.

Anyways, it's Friday, and I'm heading to a hockey game after class. What could be better?

Not saying much today.

Don't worry. I'll be back later.

It's been a bipolar day.

This morning it was hella busy, and time just flew. I finally had time to breathe, and it was 11 o'clock. Then we had breakfast/lunch, and now it's almost time to go.

As hellatious as it was, I sure am happy to say I barely noticed the passage of time. I like days like that. They're fun.

Tonight, I have to do some cleaning, get some groceries, and then class. Ugh. I hate going to night school, but there's little choice for me left. I need to get a piece of paper so I can prove to the world that I'm smart. Ask anyone, I'm pretty damn intelligent. I don't need a piece of paper to prove it.

Wankers.

Anyways, I think that'll be the rant du jour, as it's time for me to start thinking about getting out of here.

Busy, busy, busy

Servers are acting funky this morning.

Makes for a quick one, but man am I tired of answering the same call over and over.

On why I hate people

Dear sir who called me a few minutes ago:

I don't take shit from people, namely people like you who panic the second some minute detail goes slightly awry.

Also, I apologize for not knowing about Norton. It's not my job, you see. I've used it before, but it's been probably 5 years, and I frankly didn't like it. As far as your assumption of "you're supposed to be technical"- this would lead me to ask you the following question: Would you go to a podiatrist to have a tooth extracted? No? Why not, they're both medical professions?

You were a jackass to me, and I shall now rude and combative with you, asshead. Call back. I dare you.

The weekend, part three, or:
What's wrong with airport workers:

Monday was frustrating for me, mostly because of, well, airports. Upon my arrival at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, I headed to what I believed was the check-in line, only to be sent to a different line without any explanation. Once I got to the security officers, I asked him if the line was security or check-in. He informed me that I was in the security line, and that I still needed to check-in. I went back to the first person, and told her I still needed to check-in, who said, 'oh, you have to go down there.' I went down there, and stood in a virtually unmoving line for 20 minutes before I overheard someone asking 'if we've got e-tickets, do we have to be in this line?' Which we didn't, so I asked, and sure enough, it was time to head to the e-ticket check-in. This is when I started to write an entry in my head about how airport workers think that airports are so intuitive. They're not, especially there. Most of the lines aren't well labeled, and worse, there was a lot of work being done at that particular airline's desks, so none of the signs really pointed the way for me. Maybe it's just that I don't fly often enough, although I think I fly a fair amount, and I'm pretty smart, so is it the airports that are confusing, or am I confused in the airport?

Anyways, I got all checked in, headed to security, where I employed my new favorite way of getting through the metal detectors: damn near stripping down to my boxers and smiling. Worked both times on my trip, and I had my steel toes with me. At the gate, I discovered that my flight was subject to a "traffic control ordered delay" of 30 minutes, due to the high winds here in Chicago. That's ok, I can handle that, or so I thought. I got frustrated, because I didn't want to sit there. I just wanted to get home and get my life back together again. I got grumpy, and I really wasn't able to shake it off for the rest of the day. I fell asleep on the plane, too, something I do far too often(almost every flight).

So, that's my report on the weekend. There's probably more, but I've run-on long enough, no?

The weekend, part two:

Saturday was quite a day. It was beautiful out. We slept in, had breakfast, then went shopping. I love not paying sales tax on clothing. I should do this more often. I bought two shirts, and there was some promotion going on, so I spent only $25 to get two shirts that were worth about $60. What was amazing fun was taking L & J's son G to the mall. He's a laugh riot. L went into a shoe store, and he came in to say "shut your sasshole," left off the first s, and shouted "shut your asshole!" Needless to say, it was funny. After that, it was time to meet up with the fam for dinner, and to surprise my father. My grandparents and I were at the restaurant waiting for my dad to show up when I noticed a balloon animal creator going around the restaurant, making animals for kids. I asked our waitress to make sure that he came around to my table in about half an hour, so I could further embarrass my father.

When he did show up, he had no idea we were going to be there. It was hilarious. My father is so hard to fool, and we completely pulled it off. He was surprised and happy to see us, and we had a delightful dinner. The balloon guy came by, and made a birthday crown for my dad, which he was a real sport about and wore for a while. Afterwards, L had a friend who was having a housewarming party, who she wanted to set me up with, and we had a great time. There was singing, the Jesus cheer, all kinds of wackiness. We didn't get home until after 4, and wow was I tired on Sunday.

Sunday was brunch with my mother and stepfather, along with my host family. It was nice, but we were exhausted, except for little G, who wasn't up all hours Saturday night. That's when people started asking my least favorite question: "when are you going to start having kids?" I don't know, folks. I'm not in charge of that right now. I don't even have a girlfriend, much less a wife, to have a kid with, and there's no way I can adopt a kid right now, what with no money and no place for them to stay and all. I will say that it is a goal of mine, just not a priority right now. I've got other fish to fry. After brunch, J and I went CD shopping, to a place called Extreme Noise, a non-profit, volunteer run punk rock music store. It was great. Hard to find stuff all over. I could easily have dropped $200 there, but resisted. I still got a t-shirt, though. After that, it was time to visit my old college favorite, Cheapo Records. All in all, I spent less than $50, but I was close to really busting the bank.

After that, it was surprise dad time again. My stepmom had arranged for us to go to Chanhassen Dinner Theatre where many of dad's friends and in-laws were waiting, again, surprising and embarrassing him. It was great, or it was great until we sat down for the horribly small portions, and, as you may have guessed, my own personal version of hell: Cats. I'm no longer a fan of the theatre, despite being involved in it when I was in Junior High, and dating many, many, many theatre folks since then. I don't like to go to plays, and I absolutely hate musicals. It was really bad, frankly.

After narrowly escaping before gauging my eyes out, I drove my grandparents and two step sisters back to my dad's house for a champagne and cake gathering, where I was the second person to give a speech, which I have to give some dialog to:

My step mother: Dave, go ahead
My dad: Yeah, let's hear from the 30-year-old!
Me: Said the 30-year-old, 'better you than me.'
Everyone: Laughing
Me: I know I'm going to pay for that one later on in life....

I went on for a bit. It was nice. My friend from high school came over and then drove me home. We talked a bit. It was nice.

Coming up next: Monday, the day that lasted forever!

The weekend, part one:

A lot happened this weekend. Let's start with Friday:

The ride out to the airport was good, save for some rowdy teenagers who were drinking and pulling the emergency door handles. The conductor had a nice talk with them. If you call that a talk- it was more of a scolding. I was amused. After that, I changed in the airport bathroom- a challenge, to be sure, but I didn't want to fly in my work clothes, so it was shorts and a t-shirt for me. Next up, possibly the reason I'm glad I'm not flying for some time, was the TSA agent with a sense of humor. Sadly, his sense of humor did not interact well with my personality. Here's how the exchange went, after I handed him my ID and boarding pass:

TSA: What happened to your hair, mustache and goatee? Is this really you?
Me: I'm sorry?
TSA: Oh, don't worry. I'm just kidding. Go ahead.

Needless to say, I was not amused at all. After that, I was very happy to see a hot dog cart that sold beer, too. I sat down with a dog and a beer and felt like I was at a hockey game. It cost about the same. The flight was good- we even flew around a thunderstorm, and I got to watch it for a good 15 minutes or so. I love seeing thunderstorms from an airplane- they're so cool to watch.

After landing, my friend L picked me up with her son in tow. He's such a cool kid, almost 3, and makes me think fatherhood might be something I want to do. He's cute, funny, and one hell of a personality. Once her husband got home, we went out for drinks, and even called up an old roommate of mine to come out and have one with us. It was fun, except for being out way too late.

Coming up later: Saturday!

The triumphant return!

I am back. I will blog all about this weekend, but probably sometime later, after I get my thoughts together. Not to mention I'm pretty hungry. Priorities. Cope. I'll be back tomorrow.

A funny thing about coming in late, part II:

It's completely dead in here after 3 on a Friday. Here I am, 75 minutes later, bored off my ass and wishing I hadn't stayed.

Wake me up before I go-go, please!

The Friday Five

The wonderful people from The Friday Five have indicated to me that they're probably not going to put up new questions much this month, and suggested that we write old ones, if we're that desperate for something to do. This would be me. So here's the Friday Five from one day after I started this blog:

1. What brand of toothpaste do you use?
It's one of those Crest or Colgate "Super Remixes", with the cavity protection, whitening, and all that other crap.

2. What brand of toilet paper do you prefer?
White, soft, but not too soft.

3. What brand(s) of shoes do you wear?
New Balance, Grinders. Basically the only kinds of shoes for those of us with large, wide feet.

4. What brand of soda do you drink?
Non-caffeinated.

5. What brand of gum do you chew?
Trident. Trident. Trident.

This makes me proud to be Scottish!

Of all the handy things I've wished to have in the past, this ranks very, very high.

If it could track my position as well, so I could find my wallet and any other articles of clothing I seem to be missing, that'd be great, too.

Team Green Mountain Welcomes a new member!

My MS Ride team, Green Mountain, has a new member!

Welcome Larry!

Rock on!

Doesn't it make you proud to be Scottish?

I'm not talking about the mountains or fresh air. I'm talking about this.

Well maybe not so much, but I am, for some reason, rather curious.

In a not so terribly related vein this almost gave my a heart attack.

The funny thing about coming in late...

I was supposed to. I'm covering for another guy, not to mention that it's so much easier on me. The streets and trains are so much more crowded at 8:15 than they are at 6:50. It's impressive.

This isn't really a revelation of mine, it's more a Seinfeldian observation.

I'm also really excited for this weekend. Fun times await!

The waning moments of the day...

I love this time of day. The time where I avoid picking up the phone because I know it will be the 115 minute old fart that needs help with double-clicking.

My fears exposed. Next on Logan's Dave.

I've hit the wall.

Earlier I was just a little drowsy, now, I'm starting to feel really cloudy. Need sleep.

I guess it's straight home for me, eat an energy bar, and off to class like a banchee on the good ol' bike!

Let's hope that perks up the ol' D!

Thursday morning sleepy-headedness

Last night's pub quiz was a tremendous success. I raised $545 for my MS Ride, with about 50 people in attendance. The questions were harder than the usual fare, but a lot of people told me that they enjoyed the rounds, so I felt good.

We had some kickass prizes, too.

All in all, it was a success, and I would consider doing another one, but not for a while. It's rough work. The first round took far too long, and we wound up going over time, so folks were a little ancy.

Next up for my fundraising: an 80's DJ night? Karaoke contest ala American Idol? A nap?

We shall soon see.....

On Dr. Demento and Sideshow Bob

Bart laments having two arch nemesises at the age of ten. I'm thirty and can't begin to count mine. One of the them called today, and annoyed the shit out of me. It's not hard to do, especially if you're him. I think most of the problem deals with the fact that he just can't accept new information. He asked me the same question a record 8 times in a 4 minute conversation. I, in turn, repeated the same answer 8 times, with a subtly increasing level of annoyance. The call very nearly ended with the line "...let me just ask you one more time..."

If I could transport myself through phone lines, I would probably have a very, very long criminal record, as well as a much easier time doing my job.

Slightly more important...

Today is a milestone birthday for my father.

Kudos to him. He kicks ass.

The day of the big Pub Quiz

I spent my last $20 at Kinko's last night, because the rat bastards make you buy a card to copy things by yourself. What does a 30-year-old do with $8.77 on a Kinko's card? Beats me. I haven't been to one in 4 years, and it will probably be another 4 before I am again. I wonder if I can accrue interest.

I'm excited, because it's about 12 hours until I'll be reading the first round. Of course, I've got a lot of other things to get done before then, including getting everything ready and turning in my homework.

This promises to be a busy day.

Super busy leads to super grumpy.

That's the state of affairs right now. I don't believe there's a happy camper at any seat in our little corner of the 12th floor.

Such is life. Tonight is going to be a challenge. I'm in no mood to sit through either class.

How I Won the War

I can already imagine it: in 50 years, there'll be a movie where GWB saves the world from Al-Qaeda, Saddam, and outsourcing by being the best damn Top Gun pilot he can. Of course, there's more: Hollywood is poisoning history(again) with rubbish to make us Yanks seem even better(full story here).

From now on, let's get away with all bold-faced lies by simply saying "based on a true story." Imagine how much easier Watergate would have been. Or Iran-Contra.

My door is always open.

It is, and most everyone I know is aware of that fact. Unfortunately, it can be a burden sometimes.

Last night was a good night for me. I got some work done, did my taxes(finally), even had a friend stop by who's joining my MS Ride team, and after all that, decided to open a bottle of red and watch some TV. I figured I could use the relaxation. I earned it. I watched for a while, and pleasantly fell asleep on the couch, where I like to fall asleep. I woke up when my phone rang, it was my best friend, looking for the very same person who was at my house some 2 hours earlier. Not here, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. No problem. I have to get into bed anyways. Next up, my friend S calls, about 40 minutes later. Not much to say, just wanted help with a crossword clue. I was more than happy to oblige. No problem. Are you sleeping? Yep. Ok. Go back to bed. Never had I heard better advice. Back to bed. Back to sleep. No more than 7 minutes later, the phone rings again. This time, my roommate is outside, can't find his keys. Ok. Buzz the buzzer, open the door. Back to bed. Please let me fall back asleep.

Sleep came, but it wasn't good sleep. My first dreaming cycle was interrupted, so I didn't get the right kind of sleep, and it's hurting me today.

Tonight, I'm turning off the ringer, though. Hope there's not an emergency.

Tooting my own horn(again):

I finally got around to filing my taxes. It's about time, I must admit. Usually, I file on the 15th, even though I usually get a refund. This year, I donated my entire state tax refund(the first time I've gotten money back from Illinois, actually) to the MS Society. Don't think I'm a saint yet, folks. It's only 32 bucks.

But it does give me a good feeling. And some fodder for my poor pub quiz contestants tomorrow night.

Goddamn Swedish Furniture Designers!
Brought to you in part by Ikea.

As I alluded to earlier, I spent a fair amount of my weekend putting together furniture for my friend J. Some of it was really easy, most of it was confusing as hell. The biggest problem is that Ikea instructions do not contain any words, which is understandable because of the international aspect of their business, but seeing as the items were purchased in Chicago(Schaumburg, actually), and had undoubtedly been here for some time, why the hell can't they put the directions in English? (Keep in mind that while I acknowledge that the USA does not have an official language, let's face it, English is expected- but that's not my fault.) It's just too confusing the way they have it, and it makes it very hard to determine whether or not you have the appropriate piece. I am specifically referring to the entertainment center I built, which had two pieces that were almost identical, and the measurements were not converted terribly accurately, so I had to guestimate(fortunately correctly) as to which piece I had. Frustration ensued. Some kind of international labeling system should be devised and adopted.

The desk on Sunday was even more of a fiasco, as the directions made it damn near impossible to complete the project as they were set up. It's really hard to screw legs onto the support system underneath the table after you've already attached the support system to the bottom of the table. I got around it, of course, by adding the legs before attaching the support.

Enough on that. I had that rant brewing for long enough, and my back is still sore from lifting such a heavy piece of furniture.

More shameless self-promotion

Just to remind all those who read this blog and live in Chicago, my MS 150 Ride fundraising pub quiz is Wednesday night at Ginger's Ale House, 3801 N Ashland, Chicago. We're starting at 8 pm sharp, so I'd recommend getting there at 7:30 to make sure you get a good seat.

For questions about what a pub quiz is, check here, or leave a comment. I will respond either by e-mail or by comment.

As an after thought, why is it that my blog's spell check doesn't know the word blog?

Is that a Stephen Wright observation or what? I can hear his voice saying those exact words right now.

Taking a break from everything, Or: Lamenting my springtime cold.

I didn't bike this weekend. It was too cold, and already having a cold, I didn't feel like pushing it. I can't breathe, and my sinuses are all clogged-a-roonie-doonie.

This weeks promises to be a busy one: I've got the big Pub Quiz on Wednesday, which is also my father's birthday. Taxes need to get done, too. I'm far too lazy about that. I'm taking a friend to get a tattoo redone tonight at my new favorite parlor, after building furniture for her this weekend(there will be a full rant on this later). I've also got some work to do for my English and Psychology classes, but that's pretty standard stuff. I should have that cleared up quick.

Playoff hockey starts this week for my beloved Chicago Wolves, whose game I attended on Saturday night, which ended in a 2-1 loss to the hated Milwaukee Admirals. Drinks were had after the game, but I was pretty well done rather early, which was good, as I actually got a decent night's sleep for a change.

I also scored tickets to see the Pixies in November. It's odd to know what I'm doing on a day that's seven months out, but at the same time, somewhat nice. Big thanks to my friend J for scoring the tickets- as it stood, we were both on the Evil Empire's website trying simultaneously when she hit the good refresh.

So, that's the story of the weekend. Today sees the debut of the Number One Super Tie, my new favorite acquisition. Smiles all around.

On being hungover.

Last night's Good Friday Steak Barbeque was a notorious success. It usually is. Unfortunately, the byproduct of this is my enormous hangover.

It was the usual mix of drunks and blasphemes, my favorite group. My steak was wonderful, marinated in Guinness, Jack Daniel's, curry powder, black pepper, fresh garlic and onion, cloves, cayenne powder, worchester sauce, steak sauce, and soy sauce. Yummy.

Now, I'm listening to silly 80's power ballads in preparation for making my friend a mix CD. This is what she asked for, so that's what she's getting. It's really fun, I'll admit, but how loud can one actually sing along to the song without waking up one's roommate? We'll see.

Holy Flurking Schnitt! It's the Friday Five!

1. What do you do for a living?
I am Tech Support for an online futures trading company.

2. What do you like most about your job?
Spending most of my day screwing around on the internet.

3. What do you like least about your job?
Talking to the customers who I have to coach through resizing a window.

4. When you have a bad day at work it's usually because _____...
I've talked with a customer similar to #3.

5. What other career(s) are you interested in?
There's this dream that I'll write the next Tetris, but I'm not holding my breath. Being a programmer is what I want to be, though.

What Brown can do for me today.

Brown can explain to me why a package with the dimensions of 1-3/8" height, 5-3/4" width, and 15" length couldn't be put through the mail slot of my front door, which measures 11-1/4" wide by 1-1/2" tall. To extend the conversation, they could also explain why I had to waste an hour of my day going down to their primary distribution center, all the way on the south side.

All I can say is that it's a good thing I had today off, otherwise I would have gotten really pissed off.

And we all know how unpleasant that can be.

Sinus attack!

I'm miserable. Either I'm allergic to something in my office building, or I'm allergic to something in my home. Seeing as I've lived here for almost 2 years, I'm going to say it's the office building.

The underlieing bitch about this is that my sinuses are clogged, and I'm not happy at all.

I am, however, going to go pick up my package in an hour or so, once traffic eases up.

I love having the use of a car. It makes life so easy. Of course, it's such a small package, I could bike down there... tempting.

Virtual Friday

That's my new term for 4-day work weeks that start on Monday. You get a virtual Friday. Cool, no?

Only in Tennessee: Drive by porn to be outlawed.
Only in Alabama, where I'd think they would have spent yesterday trying to figure out what was in the mysterious package left in the airport bathroom: The official State Whiskey.
And the French stick it to Bush: Why reading labels is so important.

Is it Thursday or Friday?

For me, it's both. This is good. Except for the fact that I was going to try to sleep in tomorrow instead of today, and will probably have to do both now. It does give me a chance to clean my apartment, and pick up my ties, because UPS seems to be unable to deliver to me except when I'm not there.

From now on, everything gets shipped to work. At least then I'll get it. Maybe not the same day it gets here, but reasonably soon thereafter.

I'll have the same phenomenon again in two weeks, when I am taking my first ever vacation day from here. 4 day work weeks kick ass, my friends, and I don't complain one bit.

The continuing story of Daylight Savings

Every year this happens, but it's never been this pronounced, of course, I've never had a job that I leave for at 6:15 in the morning, either. This morning, I pulled the classic wake up to the alarm, shut it off, sit up, and lie back down and go back to sleep. Fortunately for me, my body woke me up at- get this- 6:25. The good news is, my body finally got used to waking up when I needed to wake up, just the time change made that an hour later. If I ever wished I lived just outside Gary, IN, where there isn't a time change, it's now. Of course, if you've been there, you know it sucks.

Sorry if I have any readers in or around Gary, IN. I just don't like it there.

Important entertainment news!

Here it is, gossip about what I hope would be the greatest movie ever!

We'll just have to see!

The mind is finally awake.

Ok, at least awake enough to get mad about something I got mad about yesterday. My friend, near and dear to my heart, was fired by my former employer, Tower Records. Want to know why? He was giving out his employee discount too much. That's just stupid. Doesn't management realize that a lot of people(and I mean a lot of people- he's got more connections than Al Capone ever did) came in to that store to see him? He brought in so much business it wasn't even funny. What really went down? I'm guessing that because the company is going under, they wanted to make an example of someone, and since he's been there so long, I'm sure he took the fall because of his high salary. It is, as my friend K put it, shooting yourself in the foot. That's putting it lightly. It's more like shooting yourself in the knee.

So, if you shop at Tower, take a page from my book: I literally said to my former co-workers last night, knowing that the items I wanted to buy were in the store, that I was "going to shop at [someplace else]- fuck this place." Feel free to say a hefty "fuck this place" and go shop somewhere that's not overpriced. Sure, you're giving up on the depth of product(I couldn't find what I wanted elsewhere), but you're helping to purge an immoral, sleazy company form the corporate landscape. Those backstabbing assholes don't deserve to breathe.

Not nearly as happy this morning.

There was no water pressure this morning. In the shower, with both faucets wide open, all I got was a trickle of icewater. I was not amused. Shaving with cold water isn't too good for your skin, either. I have a nice little cut on my skull(one of the many dangers of the head-shaving).

UPS failed to deliver my package yesterday. They're going to fail again today, because they only seem to be able to deliver to my neighborhood between 10 and 2. I won't be there. Just leave it in the mail slot. Or come back after 4:15.

The Brown Line(speaking of things brown and pissing me off) was again on it's new, unpublished and late schedule today, top it off with the crazy guy shouting again.

Top it off with a bad customer call to start off my workday.

I need a drink and a nap.

On the off chance...

That you read my little corner of the cyberspace, and not Accordion Guy's, check this link. As I commented on his blog, I laughed uproariously.

On the off chance.

Feeling so euphoric right now.

My best friend's company has announced that they're going to match any donation made to my MS Ride by an employee of theirs. So far, that's an extra $400 on my total. I'm thrilled.

I also got some good news from a certain Redheaded friend of mine- and I'm very happy to hear that news. Since then, I've had this song playing over and over in my head. It's a good feeling.

In addition, as I mentioned in my previous post, I'm cleaning out the ol' bedroom this week, getting stuff cleared out and hopefully organized in a more semi-permanent fashon. [Read: I'm getting rid of all my clothes that don't fit or I don't like so I have more room for the clothes I can't afford to buy yet.]

Top all this off with the fact that I finished my Java lab early, so I am technically a week ahead in my class.

Now, if I can just hit the Mega Millions tomorrow, I'll really be really surprised and happy.

Note: I've turned my popup blocker back on, so I won't be spellchecking anymore. Please be kind to me.

Feeling so accomplished this morning.

Yesterday I got a whole lot of stuff done. I got home from work, and went to the grocery store. I may have spent $75, but my Jewel-Osco card saved me a record $27.96, something I'm very proud of. After that I was off to the laundromat where I did all my laundry, save for the nice stuff I only wash at home(work clothes and hockey sweaters). Then, I made myself dinner and washed the aforementioned too-nice-for-the-laundromat clothes, and started putting together a bag of stuff I don't wear or doesn't fit for the Brown Elephant store by my house. They to good things there, and I'm happy to donate. Let's just say that my fundraising efforts make me appreciate what others go through. I'm more than happy to do this. Not to mention it helps me with my new goal: making my bedroom look like a grownup lives there.

It's an uphill battle, but I'm going to win it.

Not holding my breath.

9 out of 17 prognosticators from ESPN.com have picked the Cubs to go to the World Series. Including several who believe it will be the Cubs and Red Sox.

As I told my father last year when he asked me what I would do if the Cubs and Red Sox played each other in the World Series:

"I'll play my fiddle while Rome burns."

Only 6 picked the White Sox to even make the post-season.

Baseball. It tries so hard to fill that horrible 4 months between hockey playoffs and opening day.

Feeling smart.

I just took this nice little test. I won't tell you my score, but let's say I did ok. Damn ok.

I needed a little ego boost, anyways.

Finally perking up.

It's taken all morning, but I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. Not to mention that I'm looking forward to getting laundry and groceries done tonight. I'm feeling really productive. I hope that lasts until I get home.

Too tired to blog.

I warned you, and I wasn't lieing. Our whole desk is zombified. Sadly, so are our customers, so there's a lot of miscommunication going on. Lots of sleepy half-attempts to make computers work.

I have never been more tempted to ingest caffeine in my life. Yeech. But that would only serve to have me bounce around for a couple hours, then I'd be right back to where I am.

That's not cool.

Six months in.

Yes, it's my half birthday today. Did you remember to send me a card?

It's been a long weekend, marked with some really bad stuff, and some really good stuff. Once I sort it all out, I'll be sure to let you know. Suffice it to say I'm tired. Very tired.

Springing ahead has me all screwed up. I don't like time changes- especially now that I'm older and set in my ways, I get annoyed with the change in my circadian rhythm. I'll probably be bitching about this tomorrow after not sleeping tonight. So it goes.

It is rather absurd that I get more sleep during the week than I do on weekends. After all, isn't that what weekends are for?

I like this point.

I do. Check it out.

I don't understand why you don't shut up.

Thanks to Apu for giving me those words.

I didn't want to add more attention to this person's transgressions, because I don't think he deserves the attention, and he may be that childish type who craves attention. His responses to the repeated adult requests to cease and desist have been homophobic and sad. He is, as is mentioned in his journal, entitled to his opinion, but is not providing adequate proof or reasons "...and i had specific reasons to think Wendy is indeed a slut." Saying that you have reasons for slandering another human being and not providing them is cowardly and immature. His next point is that people who don't know her in person get to know her from her writing. This is a dangerous course of action to take, as if one applies the same logic to our friend, here, we are learning a great deal about him. None of what I've learned about him from his writing is positive. I tried to be unbiased, which is hard for a person with a quick temper, and was even happy to learn that he is a Star Trek fan, something I hold near and dear to my heart, but isn't enough to make me not see him in a negative light.

The worst part of the 4/1 entry is "i hate when stupid bitches do that. But I've talked before about how silence isn't a message." The saddest thing about this is that he was sent a presumably gentle yet firm e-mail requesting in an adult tone that he not slander someone, and he had to turn around and call the senders "spooge-slurpers."

Well done, my friend. You have truly dug yourself into a hole. I would refer you to this factoid, and kindly remind you that not only do I have lawyers in my family, but that your actions have been logged in a public domain, and your constant and repeated insults are not welcome.

We're all adults here. I do believe that you can recognize that your actions are wrong, at the very least ill-advised, and your continued slander is making the situation worse.

Enough, I believe has been said.

Updated!

On lucid dreaming.

I'm out of practice, and it just showed. Either that, or my dreams have become too vivid.

I was dead. To the point that as I was communicating with my friends, I had asked one of the to google the morgue to see if I was there, and who had identified my body, which they did, and sure enough there I was, identified by my cousin, despite having barely seen her in the last 15 years. My friends were gathering and talking, my best friend, J, S, A, J, J, K, B, A(it's frustrating to name people when you aren't using names, so I'll give up here- let's just say that my close friends here in Chicago were represented). It was horrible. I was miserable. In the beginning was lamenting that I didn't get to do any of the things that I wanted to do. Finally, I found one of my friends, who were getting together anyways, and was able to communicate with them. More and more came. We were all outside, and I was saying goodbye to them, trying to substantiate enough to feel their hugs to the point that I started to think that I was actually alive. Of course, I had, in the dream, completely believed that I was dead, and honestly, I couldn't tell the difference. I had finally convinced my friend J that we needed to call my dad. I had to see if he could hear me over the cell phone, because I needed to say goodbye. It took some convincing, but I finally got her to do it.

(This is the point where I start to notice that something isn't right, and that I might be dreaming.) We're on Wellington Avenue near the intersection of Paulina, which is behind the big Jewel on Ashland, where there are now huge tracts of condos- in my dream, those condos were still under construction, like they were about 3 years ago. Secondly, my friend J is driving a red convertible, a car she has never owned and her cell phone isn't the same as the one she has now. We start to enter her car when I really start to let the idea and concept of being dead sink in. I become terrified. I then must talk to my father. I'm wailing that I need my dad. She opens her car door, and she's crying profusely, feeling my pain. She tells me to hold out my hand, which I do, and she starts dropping the change from her pocket in it. I look down, and that's when I realized I was dreaming, just like in posts I've made before. In an instant, I made the connection and told myself: "you seem to be dreaming this. Let's calm down, and see if we can't get ourselves out of this."

My consciousness jerks me back to reality. I'm in bed, on my side. It's a touch cold in my room because we've got the heat way down. My cat is curled up by my chest, in my arms. I blink a couple times. I pinch myself(for good measure really). I take a quick inventory of my surroundings(not too hard, as I was facing the wall), and I decide it's time to check the alarm clock. It says 2:23(I keep my alarm clock about 13 minutes fast or so). I get up, and here I am, blogging the most vivid nightmare I've had in a while.

I'll post more about this later, and add links and all that, but for now, I'm going pee and heading back to bed.

I was never that young.

My train ride home from work was plagued with pre-teen babble, including my favorite: shouting at each other for doing things like putting chewing gum on the floor. The retort was "it's not mine, I put mine on the wall!"

If children like that are our future, give me a De Lorean with a Flux Capacitor. I am so outta here.

You know that guy, from that movie...

I was just talking a few minutes ago to a guy who needed more than enough help just to download a file. Something that we techies have to deal with every day, for sure, but still an annoyance. The worst part? He had the voice of this guy. You may remember him from WarGames.

I was having a hard time suppressing laughter about his idiocy and his voice.

Number One Super Tie

Yes, I did it. I ordered my official Hong Kong Phooey necktie.

I am a nerd.

Four reasons I don't believe in breast enhancement:

This isn't something to laugh at, but it's hard to not snicker when you read through this article. This one, too.

In the headlines!

Perhaps the most important entertainment news I've ever read. I'm not joking, either. This would be devastating to me.

The ongoing mystery of my apartment.

Some freakish gremlin is stealing my ties. I'm down two, one of which I really can't wear with many shirts, the other I wear quite often with the dark blue shirt I'm wearing today(I'd post pictures, but I'm still in denial over my corporate get-up). For the first time since I started working here, I have decided to wear the same tie twice in one week.

I'll be doing some shopping at my friend's vintage clothing store in Evanston this weekend, though, so I will undoubtedly have some new and exciting ties for next week. I may also go to Target and buy myself a tie rack, in order to imprison my elusive ties, and hopefully keep them in line a little better.