The Big 1-5-1

So much for the 150th post!

As I look back over eight and a half months of blogging, I have to admit I've really enjoyed it. Each of you is what truly puts the icing on the cake, though. A finer group of friends I couldn't ask for.

I wish I could write more today, but demands on my time dictate otherwise.

This new look is just temporary, but there will be a few changes over the next couple of weeks, starting with the blogroll. Some need to be added, some need to be taken off, I need a different pic for the masthead, etc.

There will be at least one more post before Christmas!

Nose + Grindstone = My Day

Yes, it's a very work-intensive day from this point on. I just put ten Christmas cards in the mail, and I'm delivering another four during lunch.

And that should just about cover it.

Seeing that this is actually my 150th Post, I'm going to remove this worthless couple of paragraphs later, and post something worthwhile and memorable.

Pft.

BWAHAhahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAhahahaha

Right.

What piles up, must come down...

The picture below is a homonym.



Many of you know that the name of this truck is synonymous with a thundering wall of snow and ice roaring down the mountainside, destroying everything in its path.

Which is what my week looks like.

I have an impossible amount of things to accomplish in the next few days, and just zero time to do it in. I feel like I'm chronologically bankrupt. Yet, as irresponsible as it may seem, you know I'm going to take a little bit of time out of the time I don't really have to post.

Because you guys are really my only link to sanity right now. Can anyone relate to this?

Slow and Somber

It's a slow and quiet Friday, even though most of the people are in the office today. I have the Christmas piano music playing on the computer right now, keeping things a bit mellow and relaxed. Hope I don't drift off to sleep here...

Our office manager received some bad news yesterday. One of her son's best friends is serving in the military in Iraq, and collapsed the other day of a massive stroke. He was transported to the military hospital in Germany, and the military sent for his wife and parents to fly over to be with him. Today, the family received news: "Don't come. There is no brain activity." Arrangements are now being made for this man's brother (currently serving in the military in Afghanistan) to fly to Germany to disconnect the life support machines.

This man was only 30, and apparently he leaves a wife and two children behind. Just Sunday, he was talking to his son on the telephone when his son said "Dad, you need to come home soon. I'm getting tired of being the man of the house!" How heart-wrenching to think that though his dad will be home within days, it certainly won't be as he had imagined. The wife had just barely won a difficult battle with cancer earlier this year. Some people call her recovery miraculous, and then to have this happen. Just being a fly on the wall in this whole thing, it weighs on me.

When I was 12, I lost a grandmother to heart failure. Later that year, I lost all semblance of a normal life as my parents began divorce proceedings that would last for nine months and then spark ten years of court battles. So not only did my grandmother leave me, but in essence, so did both of my parents as they turned their attention to new partners.

I swore up and down that when I had a family of my own, I would never leave them. I could never let my beautiful children go through the hell that I had lived through. But how do you fight against an enemy like terminal illness, or a stroke? Or an accident?

My heart goes out to this family. I can't really say that the timing of this death is ironic or tragic, but rather interesting. In a season where those of us who are still politically incorrect celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, it is notable that He is the lone historic figure that overcomes death and is resurrected, giving man hope for life past the grave.

My Christmas wish is that none of my friends or family (or any of you that read this blog) will have to experience such a loss this year. Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Christmas Spec Sheet

Twist your brain a little and enter the world of engineering... .

Do words fail you? No problem. We communicate in binary code around here...



Picture is about 1.13 MB - just to let you know.

Holiday Recipes

I know, I know... this sounds a lot like that "comfort foods" post I did just a little while ago. But it's a bit different. I would like you to submit your favorite recipes that you make around the holidays. Why? Because I'm hungry, and I want to hear about food right now.

Our administrative assistant just handed me the recipe to her delicious caramels. These are soooooo good that yours truly will gladly throw his blood-sugar levels out of whack to have a few of these.

She probably wouldn't be too thrilled that I'm now broadcasting this all over Blogland, but hey, I figure I ought to be the first to chip in:

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CARAMELS

2 C Sugar
1 1/2 C Dark Karo Syrup
2 C Whipping Cream
1 C Margarine (2 cubes)
1 Tsp Vanilla

Stir and bring to boil all ingredients except for the Vanilla and 1 C of the Whipping Cream. Add remaining cream to mixture. Boil to Soft Ball - Firm stage (Those with candy thermometers will know what I'm talking about).

Remove from heat, add 1 Tsp Vanilla and nuts (optional). Pour into a lightly greased pan (use Pam). Let cool, then cut and wrap with wax paper.

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She goes on to suggest putting the caramels outside (if you live in a cold climate) to cool off. Takes about an hour in our Utah winter weather. Slightly longer in a refrigerator.

I will post a few more recipes later on when I get home. Until then, let's hear what you like to eat for the holidays! And don't limit it to sweets, either. Get some meat and cheese stuff. Any stuff, actually.

The floor is now yours...

Just a little Somethin' Somethin'

This is just a handful of fun posts from other people's sites that have made me laugh:

• Jerk's story about his friend Joel stuck in a carwash.
  
  
• Funniest account of a birth I have heard in a long time!
  
  
• Inventions most parents would love to see!
  
  
• A GREAT post by Kristy about "Breezy Elegance".
  
  
• Kristy's Friend who was almost murdered by a llama.
  
  
• Admit it, we've all wanted to do this at one time or another!
  
  
• And you thought the Patriot Act was bad? Check this guy out.
  
  
• The ruthless destruction of the Borg in Star Trek.

And a sure fire way to destroy your life: The Monster Game. Thanks for getting me hooked, Kim.

The Hallucinogenic Value of Cheese

I like squeaky cheese. A lot, actually. And since it is one of the few things that I really like on my "anti-hypoglycemia" diet, I tend to nibble on it from time to time. Especially before bedtime. Which is where the, uh, problem starts.

Adultery isn't my thing, really. So when I start having adulterous dreams at night after my cheesy snack, I have to wonder:

What are they putting into that stuff?

The worst part about it is: It never occurs to me in my dream that I'm married and have kids, so to some degree, I actually enjoy the flirting, making out, etc., etc. in the dream until I wake up.

Then I realize what I dreamed, how much I enjoyed it, and that yes - in fact - I am married with kids! The guilt usually deflates any enjoyment from that point forward.

I'm sure you all really wanted to hear about my sub-conscious sex life there...

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Last Saturday marked our one-year anniversary of having a dog. This is not only a milestone for us, but for the dog as well. One whole year without us resorting to killing her or turning her over to the pound.

Last night, as we were watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, the dog started playing the game known as "The Leaning Tower of Maggie" In which she sits up on the sofa right next to me, and slowly (almost imperceptibly) tips over on top of me.

She loves to wrestle and play. Crawling on the ground (say, like when you're looking for something under the sofa) is an unspoken invitation for her to dart under your arm and begin licking your face.

She is terribly loyal, too. Since the day the neighbors moved away, and we went over to their vacant house and picked her up, she has known where her home is. There have been times that the wind has blown the back gate open, and she'll wander out of the back yard and around to the front porch where she'll sit and wait patiently for someone to open the door.

She is very protective. If I'm chasing the kids around the house, she'll immediately place herself between me and the kids and growl at me. I'm thinking my kids are pretty safe.

She has better hearing than the Bionic Woman. She was once asleep in the living room (front side of our house) when she heard a cat walking through our back yard - at 3:00am! She barks, I get up and let her out, only to see her fly across the yard at 80mph, narrowly missing a terrified cat that literally jumped over our fence.

I guess she's a keeper. She's just as wierd as the rest of us.

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Friday night, while driving home, a radio commercial began asking me questions:

Do you find it difficult to concentrate sometimes?
Uh, yeah.

Do you find it difficult to complete projects that you begin?
Are you serious? Is my wife putting you up to this?

Do you change jobs every few years and are not quite sure what you'd like to do with your life?
Damn, who are you guys?

Then you are most likely suffering from A.D.D.!
Nice. Just what I wanted to hear.

I've recently figured out that I don't really want to be stuck as a CAD Designer for the rest of my life. Out of all of my jobs, I enjoyed being a DSL Techinician for Qwest Communications the most. I got to meet new people, visit new places and solve different problems every day. I was damn good at what I did, with an unusually high customer satisfaction rate.

The worst job I ever had, was working at a telemarketing firm, out-calling for American Express. After just four shifts, I seriously wanted to slit my wrists and get it all over with.

Engineering jobs fall somewhere in between.

I would actually like to go to Chiropractic school, and learn to be the same kind of doctor that my doctor is. Tremendous job satisfaction, better pay, and he is able to help just about everyone he sees.

It would sure beat sitting in a windowless office all day, using software that I beginning to loathe, ticking away my days, weeks and years until retirement. I want to be somewhere that I can make a difference. I'm not so sure that I make a difference here.

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My wife almost discovered my blog last night. She walked into the room just as I was finishing up last nights short post. I can just see it now:

Wife: What is that?
Me: What is what?
Wife: That... on the screen...
Me: Oh, um...well, it's my blog..
Wife: Your what?
Me: My.... blog...
Wife: You're a BLOGGER?!
Me: Uh...........yeah....
Wife: It HAD to be blogging! Why couldn't it have been porn? or an online affair? or something normal?!? Blogging??? I don't even know what to say...

She's probably talking to her dad today, the Great White Computer Geek, asking him how to find out what I'm doing online. I'm usually pretty careful about Blogging at home; I'll use a different browser that she's never even heard of most of the time. But eventually, she'll most likely find out. And when she does? Well... remember me mentioning something about pushing up daisies?

Gotta run and finish up a project. Happy Monday to y'all!

Late Night, Sunday Night

I have been trying, and trying, and trying to get to the keyboard this weekend. .But keeping up on a secret blog is not easy when your wife is lurking, or you're doing dishes with your toes. But I digress.

I've just been putting my blog post ideas into a notebook over the past few days, and plan on posting them tomorrow.

I do need to seriously cram on a project for a few hours, so if the post doesn't appear until mid-afternoon, don't be too surprised.

Today, after church, I was doing the dishes when I suddenly started feeling weak, my face started to go numb, and I started getting dizzy. I'm about 99% certain it was just low blood sugar, but there's always that 1% of doubt, wondering if it was a stroke on the way, or what.

So, here's a proposition to you visitors here in Nilo-land: If I don't post for a good 5 to 7 days, with no previous explanation (like going on vacation or something), you can assume that I'm pushing up daisies. Morbid, I know, but I'm not so inconsiderate as to post on a regular basis and then just bail without saying goodbye. Unless the Grim Reaper is part of the situation, that is.

And so I bid you all farewell... until sometime tomorrow. I need to go get my ugly sleep.

The Weekend Is So Close...

I can taste it. It tastes like sweet freedom. Except that I can't eat sweet things because of my hypoglycemia. Spit that weekend out! What was I thinking? Freedom? Hahahahahahahahahaha!

Imagine being chained to a house, holding a baby and a toddler in your arms, doing dishes with your feet, and turning the Comcast "On Demand" to Dora the Explorer or Spongebob every half hour. That will be my "freedom" over the next few days.

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Does anybody here remember when Wham! wasn't openly gay, but you still suspected it? It had a lot to do with that "beat puppy-dog" look that Andrew Ridgely sported most of the time.* Okay, that was random!

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Moving On...

I saw the doctor on Wednesday. In addition to a raging case of hypoglycemia, I also have chemical poisoning (probably due to an excess of soda pop consumption).

Some people have a proclivity for alcohol, some for tobacco. My addiction has always been soda pop. Don't know why, maybe it's genetic. My dad was quite the pop drinker in his day. Now he has type II diabetes. *sigh* Guess it's time to ween myself from soda.

Honestly, quel horreur to have 10lbs of Pepperidge Farm cookies and Eggnog flavored Fat Boy ice cream sandwiches, and not be able to enjoy any of it.

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Do you ever find yourself losing focus and interest in most everything? If I believe what I hear on the radio, it's a form of depression. The chores at home are piling up faster than I can get them done.

I have to fix an oil leak on the wife's car, get the family Christmas letter finished, cards sent out, water heater wrapped up in the insulating blanket, clean up after the dog in the backyard (it's been about a month now...), disassemble a piece of patio furniture to store for the winter, and the list goes on and on and on and on and on. It's swallowing me whole. Easy to be overwhelmed in this situation.

I have project deadlines at work, I'm working with a piece of crap cad software that I'm really not that good with, and yet, this company wants me to be proficient in it. I could probably learn the Swedish language easier than I can this software. POS.

When did life get so complicated?

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*My bad. It appears that Andrew Ridgely (from the band "Wham!") is actually married to one of the chicks from Bananarama. Who knew?

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PS: I will honestly try to come up with a better post than this over the weekend!

Imagine...

A hat tip to The Walrus



You filled my childhood with visions of Strawberry Fields, Yellow Submarines and Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.

Some of my most treasured memories are called to mind by your music.

Gone for 25 years, you're still very much alive through your words and songs.

And just between you and me, I never did like Yoko's music.

Just call me Typhoid Nilo

It seems to be a curse. I wonder if I can turn this to my advantage?

• Yesterday, I go to publish a post yesterday, and manage to knock Blogger out for over an hour.
• Today, I go to check my email at Gmail, and suddenly, Google Mail is down for most of the day.

How DO I do it?

Should we have a pool as to the next site I down?

I'm trying at this very moment to access our company's network through the internet, figuring that if the network is down, there is literally nothing I can accomplish at the office. Wish me luck!

It was a Sign...

I had just finished writing my post yesterday, and clicked the "Publish Post" button when Blogger crashed.

I took it as a sign from above.

It included a bit too much information about some pretty amazing things that have happened in my life over the past four and a half years. I guess it will have to wait.

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In other news, post-partum depression is in full swing at our house, cutting my productivity at home back to essentially nothing. I don't know if we'll get a Christmas letter out with our cards this year, because I have no freakin' time to work on it!!!

After last night's episode, it looks as though my wife will be taking the two oldest girls out of gymnastics, and cutting back their Santa haul to one present apiece, along with a note from the Jolly Old Elf himself, explaining that they made the "naughty" list.

Here is the scenario: Oldest two girls, regardless of the great lengths we have gone to to teach and encourage basic honesty in our home, lie as much as they breathe.

They argue and fight with each other, and if one of them takes or breaks something that wasn't theirs, they will lie until they're blue in the face about it. Hell, they'd even lie if they were caught on video actually perpetrating the "crime".

Wife and I can't figure it out. It flies in the face of everything we have taught them. So I can almost agree with her on this one.

Anyone have any suggestions in this department? I'm wide open...

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Some of you may have noticed a few posts disappearing here and there. While I may not be getting a huge amount of P*ige H*mmis traffic, I am starting to pick up with the *lla K*sova traffic. I'd just as soon avoid another onslaught of people looking for nudie pictures. So, those posts mentioning *lla will be taken down for the time being.

Happy Tuesday Y'all!

Some People's Children

I was totally prepared to write a way better post than this today. How's that for an opening line?

Go ahead. Turn back now. The possibility of something enlightening escaping my lips or fingertips today is dwindling rapidly.

Lack of sleep. Extreme lack of sleep.

Curse Comcast and that silly little 12.0 mbps cable modem they sent me. My wife was laughing good and hard at me this morning, because I came to bed at about... oh, 2:00am.

She doesn't understand things like going from a 21.6 kbps connection to the data pipeline we have now. There's even talk of putting a curfew on the computer (tucking it in with a blanket and the whole works).

Okay, on to the post....

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Headline: Crosses honoring troopers protested: Atheists' suit says Utah markers unconstitutional

This is where I get politically incorrect. And very pissed off. Let's set the wayback machine for, oh, say the early 1600's? Location: England.

The Church of England was a state sponsored and controlled church, and life could be and usually was made very hard for those who didn't belong to or opposed the official church in any way.

In writing the Consitution of the United States of America, the founding fathers didn't want any encore presentations of the religious intolerance that was played out in England, hence the First Amendment:

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof...”

Seems pretty clear cut to me: The state neither establishes a religion, nor interferes with anyone's religious rights.

In a statement, Utah atheist Stephen Clark said the cross stands for Christianity to the casual observer.

"To so blatantly tie the [Utah Highway Patrol] to religion and to overwhelm the commemoration with a harrowing symbol exclusive to one religion unquestionably violates the doctrine of the separation of church and state", Clark said.

What a crock of shit.

I see no religion being established here, and I can't see religious persecution here, either. Unless you count the asshats who are filing the suit.

This is not about establishment of religion or preventing the free exercise thereof. This is about the few having power over the many. This is an in-your-face bitch slap to the religious. This is about contention, and the great money that is to be made from it. This is about taking the unity that made our country great, and turning neighbor against neighbor until our nation is nothing more than a bunch of bitter, angry people living on the same land mass.

This is not the First Amendment. This is the bastard inbred cousin of the First Amendment, and if we could figure out a way to harness the energy from the founding fathers spinning in their graves, we could probably cut our dependence on foreign oil altogether.

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It looks like Alla was fired from The Apprentice last night.

I think it's admirable that she made it that far. She's right, though; her financial net worth is over eight figures. Losing the bid to a job from Donald Trump shouldn't affect her very much.

Who knows? She might own Trump someday. If you take a look at where she came from, and how far she has come, it's definitely a possibility.

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That's all for now. I'm listening to the music from A Charlie Brown Christmas by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. Very relaxing, very seasonal, very recommended.

The White Stuff Is Here To Stay

Submitted for your Holiday listening pleasure; a slightly modified version of "Winter Wonderland":

Horns blare, are you listening?
Blinding glare, snow is glistening!
A beautiful sight
But there's black ice tonight
Driving in a winter wonderland.

Gone away is the asphalt
here to stay is sand and salt
It's eating away
At our cars every day
Driving in a winter wonderland.

On the freeway, traffic's stop and go man!
People driving like they're circus clowns
Swerve in front of me, well don'tcha know man?
It wouldn't bother me to run you down!

As I weave through the traffic
Past the stupid and spastic
Peeps who don't know how to drive in the snow
Driving in a winter wonderland!!!

For those unwanted comments

EXTREME Word Verification.

For those really unwanted comments. Fully customizable to recognize certain blogger identities. Can use up to 143 characters in English, Welsh, Arabic and Mandarin Chinese (or a combination of all above languages).

Nothing says "cold shoulder" like the name of a Welsh Village.

Thanksgiving Reflection

I'm thankful for...

My family. My wonderful wife, and my amazing children. They are my life. I'm grateful that my wife decided long ago that children would be more important than a career, and gave up our second income to be there for our kids. It hasn't been easy, but it has been tremendously worth it. I'm thankful for good parents, and awesome grandparents as well. I can't forget my brothers and sisters in there, either.

My home. It's not a $15,000,000 mansion, but it's home. It keeps us warm and sheltered, and has stunning mountain views. I like our little house.

My friends. Some I've had for several years, other's I've had for just a few weeks. Every one of them has blessed my life in one way or another.

My health. I'm no paragon of fitness, but I'm grateful that I don't have any one of several horrible illnesses out there.

My job. As much as I'm sure that engineering is not my "calling" in life, I'm pretty decent at it, and my job has kept food on the table and the bills paid.

My faith. When little else makes sense in this world anymore, my understanding of life makes it easier to live each day as it comes, and enjoy my short stay on earth (the mother ship should be arriving any time now).

Food to eat. We're not a dine-out type of family, at least, not very often. I'm thankful that my wife is a wonderful cook, although there are still a few things I can cook better than she can.

Clothes to wear. They're not fancy, but they do the trick. And they're comfortable, too.

The things I learn every day. I learn the secrets of the universe from my children, and I learn wonderful life lessons from friends who are good enough to share their experiences either face to face, or through a blog.

The list seriously could go on. And on. And on.

Un-Freaking-Believable!!!

Ever wonder where all that settlement money from the Vioxx and Phen-Phen cases ends up?

Apparenty, not enough of it made its way into the hands of a local well-known attorney, who borrowed $10.5 million to finish his $14.9 million estate, then defaulted on the loan payments.

The Web site also describes the seven-bedroom, 13-bathroom home as a "pure work of art" that includes a "gourmet kitchen, ballroom, salon, carved in gold leaf detail, mosaic marble, original stain glass, antique billiard bar, as well as a stream with a covered bridge, amphitheater, pool with formal balustrading, granite stone pathways, barn, loft and greenhouse."

And here is an aerial photo, just in case you were wondering what a cool 15 mil gets you these days:


Can anyone say Greed?

I understand what goes into a person becoming a lawyer. There are hundreds of hours of classes, lectures and studying, piles of textbooks, mountains of research, and many, many thousands of dollars that go into paying for that education.

That having been said, I cannot find any justification for the legal fees that some of these lawyers extract from these drug company cases. The attorneys are not the ones suffering from heart defects, or strokes, or the cost of looming medical care for these conditions, and yet they're getting paid a king's ransom for knowing the right words to say in front of a judge and jury.

There are good lawyers out there. I know several personally. But I cannot understand the greed that propels people to extremes like Mr. Mansion here in Utah. And maybe that's a good thing.

Comfort Foods

I do have a post kicking around in my head about Thanksgiving... one that actually talks about what I'm thankful for. That one will be next. This one, however, has been waiting since Wednesday afternoon to be posted.

Comfort Food.

It's a different thing for everybody. It could be one thing in particular, or many different things.

Last Wednesday, for example, I didn't take lunch until about 2:30pm. I had downed about a half pound of cinnamon bears, and they weren't sitting very well in my stomach. I was feeling all sorts of "blech", and really didn't want to eat at all, but I took a chance and popped on over to Apollo Burger. I was still feeling rather gross when I walked in the door. Instantly, the smells of the place hit my nose, and my stomach relaxed and said "Hey, I know this place... gimme a bacon cheeseburger!" And all at once, Newton's first law of Nausea was suspended, and I was able to have an enjoyable meal. The slow jazz-type music, the golden setting sun streaming in through the windows... these together with the food conspired to make one of the best lunches I've ever had.


The question is now on the floor: What are your comfort foods?

And The Beat Goes On...

Those of you familiar with the way my holiday weekend began should have a chuckle at the way it turned out.

Wednesday - Our two year old went to my naturopath doctor today. There have been a handful of instances over the past week or so of her losing her balance and falling. And getting hurt when she falls. Apparently, she has such a bad ear infection that there is actually blood behind her eardrum. Symptoms other than loss of balance? None. Doctor says "She should be screaming from the pain..." He prescribes some homeopathic drops to put in her ears.

Remember me running out of gas in the middle of the intersection? The gas can that I used to put some fuel into my tank tipped over in my trunk. And leaked. So wednesday night, I drove the 50 mile trip home with the windows down, because the fumes were so horrible.

I get home, and my wife informs me that she's been put into the jury duty pool for sometime during the next 6 weeks.

I stay up with Baby Josh that night so that my wife can get some sleep. We watch "Lawrence of Arabia" on the On-Demand cable. I have to change his diaper four times in one hour, and one of those times he peed all over me. Then, around 1:00am, the two year old wakes up and is crying about how she wants Mommy (apparently, Dad turns into chopped liver during the night & she won't have anything to do with me). So we go back downstairs where she and the baby alternate crying and throwing fits, I catch a little bit here and there from the movie, and finally, the noise becomes such that my wife gets up. And orders me to bed. Which is where I really wanted to be anyway.

Thursday - We wake up and have a breakfast of Krispy Kreme donuts. Around lunchtime, I go out to pick up Chinese food for the family, and find that the Chinese restaurants are all closed. Psh. Like it's even a Chinese holiday... I made the mistake of stopping by the Wal-Mart deli and picking up some chicken strips and barbecue wings, along with some curly fries. What we ended up with was a rather heavy meal for lunch at 1:00pm, with Thanksgiving dinner looming up at 4:00pm.

4:00 rolls around, and it's "Over the river and through the hoods to Grandmother's house we goooo..." I could only eat one plate full of food before I was completely stuffed, to the point of nearly barfing. It's one thing to insult someone by not eating the food they've prepared for you, but another thing entirely to ralph it all back up.

We stay until about 7:30, watching the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. None of my kids, however, were interested in watching. Something about the voices sounding all funny, and how can that dog really butter toast, anyway?

Friday - Another non-descript day from hell. It's decided that I really ought to get up on the roof and finish hanging the Christmas lights, before the storms hit. I get the lights hung, my wife takes off for about an hour and a half to get some shopping done, and we start cooking our turkey.

My oldest daughter sits down on a kitchen chair, somehow slips off backward (in slow motion), knocks over the garbage can, and has the folding kitchen stool falls over on her. Nothing really hurt, except her pride. That couldn't have been more perfectly orchestrated if it had been a cartoon. Later, she falls down the last few steps into the family room, plows headlong into the chair at the computer desk, knocking a box full of sewing supplies off of the chair and onto her. We ask her if her ears are hurting at all.

From then on, the whole weekend spins into a slow-motion tailspin of sleep deprivation, doing dishes, changing diapers, doing more dishes, changing more diapers, watching Spongebob with the 2-yr old, doing more dishes, wrestling the dog, changing more diapers, getting sleep in 10 minute increments and doing more dishes. There are (understandably) some reasons why I actually enjoy going to work on Mondays.

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Update: My wife just called. For her peace of mind, she took the 2-yr old to family doctor this morning, just to get her ears re-checked. Doctor remarks that there is the tiniest bit of fluid behind her eardrums, but nothing bad at all. Wow, the homeopathic stuff worked amazingly well compared to the 2 week regiment of Amoxycillin that we're usually given by the family doc. Yayyyyyy!

On the lighter side of the news, family doc did say that the 2-yr old's molars are coming in now. Say hello to several more months of cranky kid!

Christmas Music Irony

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas, hear the music play... From now on our troubles will be far away..."

Right.

My morning went something like this: Got to bed at 2AM, after reconfiguring the cables in our home from satellite TV to cable, and getting everything ready for the cable guy to install the digital cable today (should be the easiest job he's ever had. He walks in, sees two cables labeled "to wall" and "to TV". He plugs it in, turns it on, and voila! He's done.)

I should have gotten up at 5:30AM, but I had mistakenly switched my alarm off last night instead of my wife's, so she wakes me up at about 7:30.

I walk outside to the sound of my car running. Apparently, my car's security system has a "cold start" function to it, where when it reaches a certain temperature, it will start up. I live in a freakishly cold place, so my guess is, that poor car was probably starting up all night. Burning fuel.

You can see where this is leading, can't you? Have you ever seen someone's car stall in an intersection, and thought "Wow, glad that isn't me!" Today, that was me.

My wife, who hadn't slept since 2AM, graciously drove down to where I was stranded, bringing the gas can with her.

So, getting to work a mere two and a half hours late seems like only the beginning of an absolutely wonderful day, and I do say that with just an edge of sarcasm in my voice.

I walk into the office, and there is a stack of roughly 300 Christmas cards I need to sign and pass on to the next unlucky engineer, so that they can be sent out in the next week.

Grandma calls up and says she's feeling a bit under the weather, so Thanksgiving dinner at her place is kind of in limbo right now. And the day is still young. I don't dare ask what else can go wrong, or say that things can only get better from here; I can feel fate lurking around, waiting to be tempted.

Well I'll be Damned.

There's just no better way of putting it.

Does anybody here remember my "Message In A Bottle" post? It seems that I have stumbled across one of my names.

And oh man.

First, does anyone here watch The Apprentice? If so, you may have seen her. And if not, then hey, she has her own website.

She is wildly successful at a number of different ventures, and a mother of four as well. I have maybe one picture of her at home, from the time that we went to Raging Waters together. Though she's pretty in the picture, it's not the same image of svelte glamour that you see on her website. But it's how I remember her.

Meet Alla.

It Only Hurts When I Laugh

Or even smile.

Preface: Our family dog has been feeling rather left out ever since the baby showed up on the scene. She's doing what any dog with a hollow space between the ears would do: She is being a very baaaaaaaad doggie, and digging holes in the back yard (learned it from the neighbor dog), chewing up the occasional toy and stealing food from the table and counter.

So, in order to make up for the lack of time spent with her lately, she and I got into a wrestling match on the living room floor last night. And in a deft and surprising move, she used her hind legs to generate roughly 25,632 pounds of thrust as she pointed her nose (a registered projectile weapon) directly at my face.

Ensuing result: Fat Lip. But no ordinary fat lip, this one was gushing blood big time. And then I had this stringy thing hanging off the inside of my lip which I had assumed was just a flap of the "lip lining", but instead, it was "lip guts", or whatever lips are made out of.

I have to be very careful not to smile very broadly over the next few days as my lip heals, or it starts bleeding (Oh, yum) again. And if I laugh, it has to be with more of a frown on my face, which sounds damn near impossible to me.

And I guess I have to avoid spicy foods, too.

In Other News...

This morning I was the driver that I typically scream obscenity-laced obscenities at. Wow, what is happening to me?

My Ideal Career

Okay, so I succumbed to the curiosity that Crouching Mommy engendered by posting the "Ideal Career" quiz on her site. My results were just as expected.

Your Career Type: Realistic

You are practical and mechanical. Your talents lie in working with tools, firearms, disguises, machines, or farm animals. You would make an excellent: Carpenter - Diesel Mechanic - Welfare Case Farmer - Fire Fighter - Grocery Bagger Forester - Locksmith - Professional Thief Pilot - Police Officer - Truck Driver Sewer Lagoon Diver - Erupting Volcano Technician Monkey Urine Collector - Homeless Person The worst career options for your are jobs that include the placement of large structures or designing suspension bridges.

What's Your Ideal Career?

At least the picture looks good. And yeah, I totally look like that.

Hazards of the Job

Mine isn't as bad as some. Admittedly, "Sewer Lagoon Diver", technicians who monitor erupting volcanoes, and human "lab rats" who get paid $15 hourly to have pesticides sprayed in their eyes are all further up the list than my lowly little job.

Nonetheless, there are mistakes to be made here. And while not fatal, these can cause problems.



"Oh hey guys? The school is a foot and a half off... would you mind moving it?"



"I don't know that I like it that close to the hill... I wonder if we could move it a smidgen to the west?"

There is no eraser or white-out for the kind of mistakes you can make in my job. Thankfully, I don't have to include things like this on my resume:



Happy Monday!

Hazards of the Job

Mine isn't as bad as some. Admittedly, "Sewer Lagoon Diver", technicians who monitor erupting volcanoes, and human "lab rats" who get paid $15 hourly to have pesticides sprayed in their eyes are all further up the list than my lowly little job.

Nonetheless, there are mistakes to be made here. And while not fatal, these can cause problems.



"Oh hey guys? The school is a foot and a half off... would you mind moving it?"



"I don't know that I like it that close to the hill... I wonder if we could move it a smidgen to the west?"

There is no eraser or white-out for the kind of mistakes you can make in my job. Thankfully, I don't have to include things like this on my resume:



Happy Monday!

Some Places Should Be Torched

Harbor Freight Tools is specifically on my mind at the moment. Not because they didn't have what I was looking for. Not because their prices were to high. No. On the contrary, they had what I was looking for, at an obscenely low price, too.

Why the 'tude, you ask?

Because when you go in there, you may think you're only going in for a few $2-3 dollar tools, but chances are you will have spent the better part of your 401k by the time you walk out those doors.

Serious.

Case in point: They're having a sale on their rechargable batteries for $2.50 per package. Pretty sweet deal, I'm thinkin'. So I go down there, pick up a few packages of AA's, 'cause we go through those quicker than my kids can snarf down a box of dry cereal. Then, a few packages of AAA's, 'cause of the various remotes we have. Then 2 packages of "D" size for the baby swing, along with a package of "C" size, 'cause somewhere in the vast cornucopia of beeping and flashing objects that make up our kids' toy collection, there is surely a toy that needs "C" batteries. Then two 9-volt batteries, just to even it all out. If you have been paying attention, you'll see that my current tab is approximately 25.00

But wait, how to recharge all of those batteries? It's not like I can stick them in my mouth while I jam my finger into a light socket (although that is a good time!). So, raise my debt level up another $15.00 for the charger, because my fickle little charger at home only does the AA and AAA sizes. Running total: $40.00.

Okay, now to get the stuff I needed. 2 sets of hex keys (Metric and SAE) for $2.99 each, along with an extremely cheap T-shaped screwdriver. Throw in a couple of spring-loaded clamps @ 1.99 apiece, and a set of small plastic bins to put screws and other junk into (for $6.99), because the plastic specimen cups from the hospital are just not cutting it anymore! My junk totals approximately $17.00

For a grand total of $58.93 plus tax.

At least when you go into the Sears hardware department, you're aware that you'll likely have to take out a second mortgage to cover your purchase. But at Harbor Freight, the brain's center of self-deception is kicked into high gear when it sees low prices and shiny tools.

Mmmmm..... shiny!

Some Places Should Be Torched

Harbor Freight Tools is specifically on my mind at the moment. Not because they didn't have what I was looking for. Not because their prices were to high. No. On the contrary, they had what I was looking for, at an obscenely low price, too.

Why the 'tude, you ask?

Because when you go in there, you may think you're only going in for a few $2-3 dollar tools, but chances are you will have spent the better part of your 401k by the time you walk out those doors.

Serious.

Case in point: They're having a sale on their rechargable batteries for $2.50 per package. Pretty sweet deal, I'm thinkin'. So I go down there, pick up a few packages of AA's, 'cause we go through those quicker than my kids can snarf down a box of dry cereal. Then, a few packages of AAA's, 'cause of the various remotes we have. Then 2 packages of "D" size for the baby swing, along with a package of "C" size, 'cause somewhere in the vast cornucopia of beeping and flashing objects that make up our kids' toy collection, there is surely a toy that needs "C" batteries. Then two 9-volt batteries, just to even it all out. If you have been paying attention, you'll see that my current tab is approximately 25.00

But wait, how to recharge all of those batteries? It's not like I can stick them in my mouth while I jam my finger into a light socket (although that is a good time!). So, raise my debt level up another $15.00 for the charger, because my fickle little charger at home only does the AA and AAA sizes. Running total: $40.00.

Okay, now to get the stuff I needed. 2 sets of hex keys (Metric and SAE) for $2.99 each, along with an extremely cheap T-shaped screwdriver. Throw in a couple of spring-loaded clamps @ 1.99 apiece, and a set of small plastic bins to put screws and other junk into (for $6.99), because the plastic specimen cups from the hospital are just not cutting it anymore! My junk totals approximately $17.00

For a grand total of $58.93 plus tax.

At least when you go into the Sears hardware department, you're aware that you'll likely have to take out a second mortgage to cover your purchase. But at Harbor Freight, the brain's center of self-deception is kicked into high gear when it sees low prices and shiny tools.

Mmmmm..... shiny!

...and just for a second...

Ponderings in Miscellany.

I was listening to an ad on the radio talking about all of the different restaurants that are hosting Thanksgiving dinners next week, and all of the different things that the chefs are preparing. And just for a second, I wanted to be a chef, because I thought "how cool it would be to be able to cook like that!"

Sometimes I visit other people's blogs, websites or flickr pages and marvel at the amazing photos they take. And just for a second, I want to be a great photographer that can capture unbelievable scenes with a great camera. Okay, I'll admit: It wasn't only for a second, it's more like several times a day.

Sometimes I read books by very talented and skilled authors, and just for a second, I want to be an author. I want to have the notoriety of having written something absolutely brilliant, and have people stand in line to get copies of my book autographed. Those of you who read my blog know that the chances of me writing something absolutely brilliant are about equal with the chances of mars crashing into the earth.

Sometimes, something will go wrong with one of our cars. And just for a second, I wish that I was a car mechanic, so I'd know immediately what it was, and how to fix it. And that I would have access to a place where I could make the repairs. I'll admit that this is also one I have thought about for longer than a second.

Sometimes, I'll go through my wife's photo albums from when she was a travel agent. And just for a second, I'll wish that I was one too, so that I could see some of the amazing places that she has.

Sometimes, when I go to my doctor's office, I am amazed at how many people he helps feel better on a daily basis. And just for a second, I want to do the same. Then I realize that this would necessitate another 5-6 years of school, but I think it would be worth it.

Sometimes, I ponder all of the things that I want to learn, see and do in my life. And just for a second, I wish that I was rich, so that I could do all of those things. But rich people have their own set of problems, and my kids are a far greater treasure to me than all the gold of Midas.

And except for a second here and there, life is pretty good.

Redefining A Few Things

Before April of this year, I had never had a friend that I hadn't met face to face at least once. Unless you count the letters from Nigeria, where people called me "friend" and asked if I could cash a few checks for them.

As I now compile a list of Christmas cards to mail out right after Thanksgiving, I am increasingly aware that I won't be sending cards to quite a few friends, mostly because I have no idea what their real name is, nor their mailing address. And yet, that is the whole idea here. I can't think of a way that I could justify a stack of holiday cards from people my wife has never heard of. And I can just hear her saying "Who the hell is Nilo?" as she scrawls "RETURN TO SENDER" across the envelope.

I realize that the term "friend" has expanded to include people I might never meet face to face, nor know their real name, nor know where they live. These same people might never receive a birthday or holiday card from me in the mail, nor a casserole delivered when they're down with the flu (which may be a good thing; I'm not that good at casseroles).

But, in a way, the friendship I share with these people is so much more honest than some of my friendships in "real life". Unlike the many "face-to-face" friends, you quickly get to know the person inside, and superficial things like clothing, car, hairstyle, makeup, house, etc. just don't matter.

Some people enjoy that degree of honesty in their lives with everyone they meet. I envy them for that. I rather think that I would shock the hell out of people if they knew I had an identity outside of ________'s husband, or ________'s dad, or dumb coworker, or... you get the picture.

Anonymity is an easy price to pay for the kind of friends I've found.

The difference 19 years can make

Depeche Mode in concert

Salt Lake City: 1986

Attended? No.
Result? Probably scarred for life.

Salt Lake City: 2005

Attended? No.
Result? Meh. These guys are still together? Are they using canes and walkers yet? That's so Beach-Boyish. I have better things to spend $50 on than concert tickets.

The Soundtrack of My Life

Available in stores, under several separate titles.

I have approximately 350 tape cassettes, and innumerable CD's in my music collection. Most of them never see the light of day, as I converted all of the CD's to mp3's, and they sit on my hard drive. The cassettes? We have presidential elections more often than some of my tapes are played!

Each tape and CD has meaning relating to part of my life, and evokes floods of memories when played. I realized this when I broke out the "ABBA Gold" tape for my two year old the other day, so that she could dance to "Dancing Queen". ABBA is what my parents listened to in the months preceding their divorce, when I was 12 years old. And so, when hearing "Summer Night City", I remember driving up the canyon at night to our new home, with the moonlight and the warm summer breeze blowing through the car. When I hear "Mamma Mia", I remember playing with Star Wars figures out on the 12-ft tall snowbanks on our street (my own version of the ice planet of Hoth), and when I hear Air Supply's "Sweet Dreams", I think of a girl named Dixie, who died that same year of cystic fibrosis.

Air Supply's "Even The Nights Are Better" evoke memories of driving to Salt Lake on a warm summer night, to visit my dad's new squeeze. Toto's "Rosanna" reminds me of riding with my stepdad through the oilfields in Wyoming, as he kept drilling rigs supplied with various chemicals. Robert Plant's "Big Log" reminds me of California for some reason. Santana's "Hold On" also reminds me of California, and how much I wanted to moved back there when I was 14. Def Leppard's "Pyromania" album reminds me of my freshman year in high school. I had a friend who was a drummer, and he taught me how to play some Def Leppard and Rush songs on his zillion-piece drum set.

The Scorpions "Love at First Sting" album reminds me playing in the band at football games. Billy Joel's "Greatest Hits, Vols I & II" reminds me of going to track meets in high school. Berlin's "Love Life" album, and the Thompson Twins "Into the Gap" mark my departure from rock into alternative music. Alphaville's "Forever Young" album calls back memories of my huge crush on Melanie, while Howard Jones' "Action Replay" album marks a very dark time when I was crushed by that crush. Howard Jones music reminds me of a trip to Lake Powell, while Tears for Fears, 'Til Tuesday and the "Top Gun" soundtrack were defining music of my Junior Year.

My move into the dorms, and the accompanying freedom it brought is recalled by The Church's "Under the Milky Way". I also bought William Orbit's self titled album at that time. The Damned's "Phantasmagoria" album defines a lot of that first year of college as well, and is still a personal favorite of mine. As the school year ended, I listened to more of the Cocteau Twins, especially their "Treasure", "Pink Opaque" and "Blue Bell Knoll" albums. These songs were the soundtrack of my summer as a lifeguard at Raging Waters. I met Tina the last week that the park was open. Our relationship is called to mind whenever I hear "Chains of Love" by Erasure, or Pink Floyd's "On The Turning Away". Depeche Mode was there for my depression when she dumped me. There's a reason why they're called "Depressed Mode".

Upon moving to Switzerland, I listened to a-ha's "Scoundrel Days" album, and Alphaville's "The Breathtaking Blue", as well as some of the local artists. Moving down near Montpellier, France a few months later (a bit closer to the Mediterranean), I found that a-ha had released their "Stay On These Roads" album. I bought it. I fell in love with Catalonia, and moved about 50 miles further south, and stayed there for the next 6 or 7 months. At this time, I started listening to some classical music. My favorites were Bach and Rachmaninoff. As I started to get ready to move back to the states, one of the local kids (who loaned my their comic books in French all the time) talked me into Roch Voisine's "Helene" and Elsa's "Rien Que Pour Ca" albums. Both good albums.

Jesus Jones was popular when I returned to the states, and reminds me of taking Alla Kosova slam dancing. Don't ask me why, but I also really got into Disney music at the time. I also bought Neil Diamond's "Greatest Hits I & II" around this time, and am reminded of driving to a small remote town to interview for a job in a coal mine anytime I hear that tape. I also started listening to country music on a limited basis at this time, including Garth Brooks, Chris Ledoux, Reba and others.

My dad went to Switzerland on a business trip, and retrieved a copy of Mylene Farmer's "L'autre" for me while he was there. Hmmmmm. Excellent. Most other music I've enjoyed since that time would be of the Alternative, Classic Alternative, Rock, Country and Classical varieties. Did I leave much of anything out?

/ramble

Why I dislike politics

I actually had quite a long post here in which I detailed how phucing sick and tired I am of hearing politicians (Senate Democrats) whine about Iraq withdrawal timetables, and whose fault it is that we are at war. And Senate Republicans? Wipe that damn smirk off your face. You're no better.

We need to weld bars over the windows and doors of the halls of Congress, and keep the loonies quarantined in there, while starting fresh with a brand new political party. The "Git 'er Done" party.

It seems that Republicans and Democrats are only good for sitting around, growing fat on our tax dollars, while continually sniping at each other and refusing to play nice. Has anyone really seen much progress in our government over the past few decades?

Can you imagine the kind of progress we could make if the bureaucracy was stripped away, the "What's in it for me?" attitude was completely absent, and people actually worked together for the common good? Cures for cancer and other terminal illnesses. Alternative fuel sources. Space exploration. Higher standard of living for everyone. The list could go on and on. But greed, bureaucracy, stupidity and lack of civility have us driving our Ferrari of a country at a parking lot speed.

/political rant

10pm, Sunday night

I don't really have a whole lot to show for the past three or four days other than the dark circles building under my eyes. It's been a rollercoaster of a weekend, and for some odd reason, I'll actually be glad to return to work tomorrow morning.

I'll be cramming in a lot of work over the next few days. I'm going to try to be at least 95% billable through the 15th, because of the lack of work I've been able to accomplish over the past few weeks. I never knew that lack of sleep could be such a bad thing! What happened to those college days when I could live off of 2 hours of sleep, a bag of doritos, and a super big gulp of coke?

See you soon...

My New Favoritest Toy!

I can't believe how addictive this is, or how much freakin' time I've wasted toying around with...

Google Earth!

It's kind of like Microsoft TerraServer, only a million times better. It takes aerial images from all over the earth, and makes it so that you can zoom up on the globe to any random location you want to, or you can just type in where you want to go. I've checked out places I used to live in the US and Europe, zoomed in on nude beaches, that kind of stuff.

It's an 11MB piece of software that you download onto your computer, and it streams and pieces the data together for you as you select your locations. It can rotate and even tilt the viewport. I'm assuming that they've matched the photos to Digital Elevation Models, because when you tilt the view, mountains actually become mountains! Do I sound like I'm drunk? Eenyway, if you have a high bandwidth connection to the new, I suggest trying it out. It's phat.

Now about my wardrobe...

Walking through Wal-mart the other night, I was pondering possible excuses for why my pants were riding so low on my hips, just in case anyone asked*

• I'm a plumber by trade
• I'm gettin' inta' da' hip-hop, yo!
• I have no hips
• These pants were a gift from John Candy
• I've lost a bunch of weight lately, and haven't had time to buy new clothes**
• Coin change and gravity are conspiring to pants me
• This was the only size that Goodwill had
• 'cause you know you wanna check out my underwear

Eventually I settled on the truth:

• I forgot to put a belt on.

---

*yeah, right. Can you see anyone (other than parental figures) asking about low-riding pants?
**this is actually close to being true, however, I hardly ever shop for clothes anyway.

Now about my wardrobe...

Walking through Wal-mart the other night, I was pondering possible excuses for why my pants were riding so low on my hips, just in case anyone asked*

• I'm a plumber by trade
• I'm gettin' inta' da' hip-hop, yo!
• I have no hips
• These pants were a gift from John Candy
• I've lost a bunch of weight lately, and haven't had time to buy new clothes**
• Coin change and gravity are conspiring to pants me
• This was the only size that Goodwill had
• 'cause you know you wanna check out my underwear

Eventually I settled on the truth:

• I forgot to put a belt on.

---

*yeah, right. Can you see anyone (other than parental figures) asking about low-riding pants?
**this is actually close to being true, however, I hardly ever shop for clothes anyway.

Weekend Observations 11-07-2005

Observation 1: Revenge of the Sith was a let-down. I think.

I'm still trying to figure this one out. Sure, it ties most everything together, but I had waited so long to see it, and I was so pumped up on the hype and the previews, and then... and then... I feel deflated now.

It wasn't really a climactic end of a saga, as much as it was a bridge between episodes 2 and 4. *sigh* Someone ought to sit down with George Lucas and talk him into episodes 7, 8 & 9. Hell, all of the episode 4, 5 & 6 actors are old enough for it now! Or maybe that isn't such a good idea.

Observation 2: My daughter and dog abhor clean spaces.

We clean up the family room, and cute critter comes down, and empties 2 or 3 bins containing small toys all over the room. "...cannot function without... chaos" is her motto.

Likewise, our dog abhors a clean yeard. Once I have done my weekly cleaning of dog poop, she literally goes nuts wondering what to do with herself. Then the instinct kicks in, and she poops.

It's a strange law of physics to observe. The longer I go without cleaning the backyard, the less often she will poop. Her frequency goes from 4 piles in the first half hour to one pile every 3.2 days at the end of a few weeks. Strange phenomenon. Strange dog.

Observation 3: Concerned friends and family.

I'm surprised at how many of my friends treat me like I'm radioactive or something, now that I am "a father of four". There have been many offers to refer me to a doctor that can "snip-snip" and take care of any worries concerning future arrivals.

The ones that make me laugh the most are my friends and neighbors that live close to us. It is as though pregnancy is a communicable disease, and they want nothing to do with it. Not all of their fear is unfounded, however, as the number of "unexpected" pregnancies - even people like us who were using birth control at the time - has climbed steadily over the past few years.

Maybe there's some way I can use this to my advantage... "Hand over all your goods, or your wife gets pregnant!" Hmmm... that didn't come out quite the way I wanted.

Observation 4: Comment Spam

Is anyone else as befuddled as me, when it comes to spammers promoting "road repair"? I mean, who the hell is out on the net looking that stuff up, anyway? Isn't that a municipal or Department of Transportation function? Don't our taxes pay for that? Why advertise it?

My Message in a Bottle (Updated)

Updated 8-25-2011 - Ahhh, you've gotta love Facebook, and it's supernal ability of locating people!

This is a pretty self-serving post. Every once in a while, I think about someone in my past, and wonder what the hell they are up to. Most often, they are girls I knew when I was growing up, and lost contact with.

Reasoning that everybody is enough of a narcissist to look their own name up on a Google search at least once, I'm going to post their names here, along with their hometown or last known general location. And any other useless information I can think of.

Sophie Ruel
Hometown: Romans-Sur-Isere, Drome, France
She was the first girl I had ever kissed. Unfortunately, her parents and my huge inability to speak French at the time brought our budding relationship to a quick close. She had fiery red hair, and I heard she had moved to Antibes at one time.

Sophie, ca fait 19 ans depuis nous nous sommes rencontre a Courchevel; et je me demande qu'est-ce qu'il est que tu fait maintenant? J'ai habite en France pour un temps, et j'essayais a tu contacter plusiers fois, mais sans succes. Je serais bien heureux d'entendre les nouvelles de toi. Amour toujours.

Kimberly Miller - Found.
Hometown: Brigdon, Ontario, Canada
I worked with her in the Cottonwood Mall in Salt Lake City, UT. She was a great friend that I could spend a long time on the phone with. She went to school in London (Ontario), and her boyfriend was Richard, though I don't think I ever knew his last name.

Alla Kosova - Found.

Hometown: Salt Lake City, Utah
I worked with her in the Cottonwood Mall in Salt Lake City, UT. She was a fun friend to hang out with. She moved to Henderson, NV and made quite a name for herself as a dancer. Wondering what she has been up to since then.


Jennifer Lewis - Found.
Hometown: Coalville, Utah
I went to school with Jen at ITT Tech, and she was another great friend that I loved to hang out with. Last I had heard was that her husband had joined the Army Airborne to become a parachutist. They had moved to Fayetteville, NC back in 1996 or 97.

Jacquie Hurado - Found.
Hometown: Spring Valley, California
She was my first best friend, and gave me my first taste of beer. At the ripe age of 6 years old! Her dad lived in Fresno, and she would fly back and forth a bit to visit him. I was always a bit jealous of her collection of plastic airline wings. Where are you now, Jacquie?

Dawnee Johnston - Found.
Hometown: Spring Valley, California
First girl I ever crushed on! I was five years old at the time, and she was just amazingly cute! She lived about a block away from me, and I remember once her older sister put one of those red, plastic fish on our hands where the head or the tail would curve up and tell if that person was in love or not. I was. I haven't seen her in about 30 years.

Melia Young
Hometown: Lyman, Wyoming
I danced with Melia once at a church dance. She was gorgeous, with dark brown hair, beautiful eyes and a stunning smile. We exchanged addresses for the purpose of writing. I was smitten, but I was a lousy writer. I must have started several letters that never got sent. It wasn't you, Melia... it was me. I still kick myself for not having written!

Melanie Lindgren (Sanders) - Found.
Hometown: Kaysville, Utah
Melanie was a pretty intense crush for me. She was the first girl who I was absolutely head over heels for, and she was also a great friend. She ended up getting married about a year after I had moved to Switzerland. I would love to know how you're doing, Mel.

Kristina Young (Tina or Tini)
Hometown: Salt Lake City, Utah
I dated Tina for a very short time in the fall of 1988. I was so in love, and wanted to marry her, but it turns out we didn't have a whole lot in common. She went to school, and then moved to Arizona to do accounting work. Shortly thereafter, she was diagnosed with a large brain tumor. It was surgically removed, and she made amazing progress in recovery. Haven't heard anything of her for over 8 years.

If you come across your name on this list, or know where these people are, please email me at myinnerdialogues@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from them.

Digital Delicatessens

Let me take a moment and compare the vast reaches of the internet to food. There is a hell of a lot of data floating around out there, and me, being slightly obsessive-compulsive, I have to try and categorize it. At least a little bit of it, anyway.

You should see my favorites list on the Internet Explorer at work. It is divided into topics, subdivided, then subdivided again. Everything neatly categorized into its place: Job-related, News, Personal, Politics, Humor, Weather, Blogs... and the list goes on.

Here goes my half-hearted attempted at classifying internet sites according to food types:

• McDonald's: The flavorless drivel that usually gets spammed around email servers for years on end. That, and most news sources. This kind of stuff most likely won't catch your eye if you have a pulse.
  
  
• Golden Corral: Places that are so huge and unsorted, that you could literally spend hours there checking the place out. Usually a balance between some genuinely good stuff, and lame crap.
  
  
• Ruth's Chris Steak House: Higher quality stuff, for people who like to savor the flavor of what they're reading. Could be in several different varieties, but the data is usually well thought out, and well-written. Funny, having said all that, I've never been to a Ruth's Chris. I'm going on testimonials here.
  
  
• La Caille at Quail Run: Salt Lakers will know what I'm talking about here. A fancy-shmancy place at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon, where a good dinner might cost you as little as $100 per plate. When speaking of data sites, it's usually stuff that's too highbrow for most normal people to stomach. Too many intellectuals with their big fancy words hang out in places like these.

Now, having gone through that little exercise, I followed a link kindly provided by KOM, and found a delightful site along the lines of a Ruth's Chris Steak House. It's called McSweeney's International.

The article that KOM linked to was about how improbable the trash compactor in the Death Star was. I love it when people can actually spend time thinking of things like that!

Another one was "Alternate Endings To Famous Literary Works As Written By A 15-Year-Old With A Grudge."

Another good read is "Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely To Respond"

Check out McSweeney's. What a great place to enjoy some data. Thanks, KOM, for giving me yet another place spend my time during the workday. Oops, did I write that?

It made me wonder

I was teaching my 2-year old daughter how to Eskimo-kiss this morning. As I was rubbing noses with her, the 8-year old asks "How do Eskimos blow kisses?"

?.....???

The 8-year old then proceeds to wiggle her nose all about, much like Samantha on "Bewitched", while I (admittedly) had other thoughts about how to blow an eskimo kiss. Honest, it was really the first thing that came to mind:

Put a finger on one side of your nose, block a nostril off and exhale strongly through the other nostril. Though, when you live in sub-zero temperatures, it may be unwise to be blowing something that could be frozen, jagged and sharp by the time it reaches the intended recipient. I guess it's a guy thing to think like that.

I won't even venture a guess as to how they french kiss.

Anyone else with good stories about "unanswerable" kid's questions?

Jumping the Shark

"It's a moment. A defining moment when you know that your favorite television program has reached its peak. That instant that you know from now on...it's all downhill. Some call it the climax. We call it "Jumping the Shark." From that moment on, the program will simply never be the same."

- http://www.jumptheshark.com

I can define it as points where a show employs gimmicks, usually in the form of new actors or some horrendous plot twist, to draw your attention back to it when it starts suffering in the ratings.

The term originated from an episode of "Happy Days", where Fonzie literally jumps over a shark on waterskis. (No, the shark wasn't wearing waterskis; Fonzie was. And a leather jacket, of course.)

I don't watch a whole lot of TV, but here are a few examples that I've noticed:

• Buffy The Vampire Slayer was great, until they graduated from high school, blew up the school, then went to college. The introduction to "The Initiative", Angel leaving and going to L.A., and Willow becoming a lesbian just sent this show into an irrecoverable tailspin in my opinion. Oh, and the addition of Dawn, too. Did I mention that having Buffy die at the end of one season, and then resurrect at the beginning of the next was just plain stupid? Big thumbs up for the high school years, thumbs down for the college years. Except for Spike. James Marsters remained cool any way you cut him.
  
  
• Dallas reached its high point with the “Who shot J.R.?" episodes. Those episodes collectively launched Dallas into stardom and shot it in the foot all in the same breath. Because you can’t get away with status quo after drawing the attention of the entire country like that. No, you have to go bigger and better with each season. Outrageous plots like “Who killed Kristin?” and “Who killed Bobby?” and “How did Bobby come back from the dead?” and “Was the entire season actually only a figment of Pam’s imagination?” Okay, who pulled that plot out of their ass? Perusing the season recaps at TV.com, the only things I even recognize from the last three seasons are “J.R., Bobby and South Fork”. Everything else is utterly alien to me.
  
  
• AfterM*A*S*H might as well have been called "AfterBIRTH". Just pitiful. Really. It jumped the shark the moment it premiered. Many people were still feeling the loss from M*A*S*H ending, and so the producers decided that maybe you couldn't have too much of a good thing, except that AfterM*A*S*H was definitely not a good thing. If the "Goodbye, Farewell & Amen" episode didn't signal the end of M*A*S*H, then AfterM*A*S*H deep-sixed it faster than you could turn the channel on the TV. This was reminiscent of "Galactica 1980".
  
  
• Galactica 1980 has no redeeming qualities about it whatsoever. Again, jumped the shark within minutes. I find it uncanny how Barry VanDyke seems to land in so many "sinking ships". Good thing his dad is around to give him a steady job on "Diagnosis Murder".
  
  
• Different Strokes noticibly jumped the shark when Arnold went through puberty, and they had to get that annoying little white kid on there to draw back the "annoying kid" demographic. It could have belly-upped long before then, but I never really watched it when it was on. I was a rebellious teenager, with a home to avoid. And home was where the TV was. In unrelated news, Gary Coleman is moving to Utah, having fallen in love with our gorgeous little state while making a movie about the violent sport "Church Basketball".
  
  
• 7th Heaven was, for a while at least, enjoyable to me. Maybe for the first few seasons. It's hard to find a show that isn't peppered with profanity, sex, murder and intrigue at every turn. But once again, the shark rears its ugly head, and we are given two new steady characters to replace the two that are moving out. Meet the twins: Not as cute as Mary-Kate and Ashley (were), but characters nonetheless. You couldn't really rename the show 9th heaven, hence it is now "7 kids" rather than just "7 people in the family". Then comes the intrigue. Mary breaks up with (insert some boyfriend's name here) then gets back together with him, then breaks up with him again, then dates a firefighter... Hell, you could say the same thing about Matt. And Lucy. And Simon. Then Simon runs over somebody. And then I can't even count the number of characters that are regulars on the show today. They should either call it "43rd Heaven" or "I bet none of these people make it to Heaven"
  
  
• Without A Trace is really one of my favorite shows, but it seems like it has jumped the shark this season. Why? New blood. Not all over the sidewalk or anything, but in the form of two new characters. A computer genius (who is actually likeable), and a hot Latina agent that has an attitude the size of Godzilla. And now, all of the stereotypical personality clashes. Damn. It was a good show.

Music performers jump the shark all the time. How many "Farewell Tours" can you count, and then said band or artist is back in the studio a few years later doing another album?

Music and TV shows aren't the only thing to "Jump the Shark". McDonalds has jumped the shark so much that they should really have a McShark sandwich on the board by now. How many different gimmicks do they use to get you into their restaurants? Cheap toys in the Happy Meals, playlands that your kids can climb all over while you choke down some of the food, game contests that give you more game pieces when you buy more food, DVD rental machines. Hell, if McDonald's food was good, they wouldn't have to use all that crap to draw you in. But it all tastes the same. Even the new Gourmet Chicken Sandwiches taste conspicuously like the rest of their menu. Most national fast food purveyors are guilty of the same, and have been for a while.

Maybe another definition of "Jumping the Shark" could be "expanding into other markets because your primary product just isn't cutting it". Again, McDonalds is guilty as charged. McSalads, McPizza, McBreakfast...etc. But I will stop kicking the dead horse of McDonalds for a moment to focus on another group: Automobile manufacturers. Does anybody remember when Honda made two different car models, and lots of motorcycles?

Most manufacturers had few enough different models that you could count them on ten fingers at the most. Well, everybody wanted a piece of every freakin' pie, so now, we have roughly ten times the number of car models on the road than we did 25 years ago. Every car manufacturer now has to have a pickup truck, and SUV, a minivan, a midsize car, an economy car, and a sports car. This is in some ways good, as it forces change and progress. If it weren't so, then Dodge Caravan would probably still look like the ugly little breadbox that it started out as in the early 80's. But I would never in my freaking right mind buy a Porsche SUV. Those two words are an oxymoron to me.

Just a simple twenty years ago, who would have thought:

• Cadillac and Lincoln would make a Suburban
• Porsche would make a station wagon
• Toyota and Nissan would make full-size pick-up trucks
• HUMMER would be making smaller models
• Japanese Deluxe: Acura, Lexus and Infiniti
• and the list goes on...

Share with me your experiences of "Jumping the Shark".

I'm still alive *cough cough*....really..

I feel so lame for not having posted much over the past week. Those of you with kids (especially brand new ones) can probably relate. I haven't had the time to even switch on the computer. And when I do have the time, I'm so completely exhausted that I can't even move, and end up falling asleep wherever I'm sitting. I'll post more soon.

I have answered a few comments on the last few posts.

Anatomy of a Birth

Day by Day, Play by Play.

Tuesday Evening

Wife had been having contractions about 4 times an hour for a few hours now. I had stayed at home all day, trying to get over a rather nasty stomach flu. About 10:30pm, my wife assures me it's okay to take NyQuil and get some rest. At 11:30, she's in terrific pain, and by midnight, we're on our way to the hospital, where she spends the next five hours hooked up to monitors. "Sorry" says the doctor. Apparently not progressing fast enough. He thinks we ought to head home.

Wednesday

We pack up in the wee hours of the morning, and head home, arriving there at about 5:30am. Only to discover that Cute Critter has kept her 80-yr old great grandmother awake all night. My grandparents head home, and we head to bed.

I end up going into work at half day, just because I don't have the luxury of a lot of time to take off when the baby arrives. Still very sick with the flu, I get about 6 hours of work in, though less than half of that is actually productive. I can't even think straight through most of the day.

Thursday

Still feeling like total crap, I head to work anyway. The plan is to stay until about 6pm, so that I can make up some of the hours that I have missed this week.

Lunch time: Wife calls, and is having hard contractions about an hour apart. Baby probably won't come today, she says. About 4:30pm, I get a call. "I need you home....now!" I leave the office immediately, speeding home as quickly as I can. I arrive home at about 5:45pm, and my wife's contractions are so close and so hard that she can hardly walk. Weleave the house immediately, speeding toward the hospital. We pass by my grandparents' house on the way, essentially throwing our kids out on the curb with all of their stuff, and then continuing on to the hospital.

By now, my wife is screaming at me to just run the red lights to get to the hospital on time. We make a screeching tires entry up to the emergency room entrance, where I run up to the front desk. "Wife...labor...epidural....Now!!!" They came running out to the car, plopped her into a wheelchair and whisked her off to Labor and Delivery. I parked the car, then raced into the hospital to find her.

We have simply a gorgeous hospital where we live. Architecturally stunning. But to be able to find your way around inside requires a map and a portable GPS unit. I find her eventually, fact verified by the screaming and shouting, especially of the word "epidural".

The team of nurses attending to my wife are very good, and determine that she is going to have a baby quite quickly, so they disconnect the monitoring equipment and move her to a delivery room immediately. By now, my wife is swearing at them to "Get the damn epidural into me...NOW!" The anesthesiologist is located, and is ready quite quickly to administer said epidural. He also knowing his stuff, recognizes that there won't be enough time for the normal epidural to take effect, and so administers a pelvic block, numbing the whole pelvic area. Good news: It takes effect much quicker. Bad news: It also wears off much quicker.

The doctor walks in, greets me, and then proceeds to suit up in something that looks like a HAZMAT suit on steroids. Miraculously, my wife is only pushing for about a whole five minutes before our baby boy is born.

Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am. Here's your Boy!

And then it was over. The stress, the waiting, the "what-ifs", and trying to imagine every awful situation that could happen. All over. One healthy, beautiful baby boy was here. And from the beginning, he has been a very alert little guy, checking out his surroundings, and wondering why his reservations in the "Hotel Womb" were cut short by three weeks.

I spent the next few days pondering things. For some reason, I remembered a girl from our church congregation in college. It was mostly made up of married students, and so a lot us were all going through the same things at the time. Things like children being born, studying for our classes until our brains felt like they would melt, being financially destitute. Yeah, all of that.

Anyway, the thing I remember about this girl was that she was always championing the cause of natural childbirth. Natural medication free childbirth. She would go on and on about how amazing it was to give birth in your own home, and how marvelous her midwife was, yada, yada. I remember thinking that she was actually an attractive young woman, but that I could never think of her in any other terms now than squeezing kids out. The original ElastiGirl.

I don't know why I was thinking that, other than the fact that we came soooooo close to actually having a medication-free birth ourselves. Hmmmm.

Epilogue

We pick my wife and son up Saturday evening, at about 6pm, heading home under the twilight of a beautiful clear sky and snow-capped mountains.

The end of an ordeal, but the start of another one, as sleepless nights will probably plague us until he has grown up, moved out and has kids of his own.

Introducing...

A big, hearty welcome to Sproglet v4.0*



Meet Baby Josh. Born 6:47pm, 10-27-2005.
6lbs 4oz, 19.5 inches long,
three weeks early.

Perfectly healthy, as far as we can tell. Eats like a horse (speaking in terms of quantity, not alfalfa).

He's a keeper.


*Sproglet v4.0: Name given to our fourth zygote by an excellent British friend.

The Benefits of Being Sick

I noticed this last night on my way home. With this flu comes the occasional bouts of fever, malaise, body aches & pains, etc. I'm thinking that in an act of self-preservation, the ego-centric portion of my brain shut down, just to avoid the possibility of further damaging the "me-me-me" part of me.

A funny thing happened. Without the steady drone of "me-me-me-me-me-me..." and thinking about what I wanted, and how I was feeling, and what I was missing out on, I suddenly connected to the world, and I was at peace. There was a chill in the air, but I opened the sunroof and rolled the windows down partway, and let the cold breeze blow through, and I felt alive for the first time in a long time. Which in itself was pretty amazing, considering I have spent the whole week feeling mostly dead.

Still feeling just utterly gross today. It literally took me an hour to roll out of bed this morning. Utter exhaustion, achy body... that kind of stuff. But I went to work anyway.

I was driving down the freeway this morning, and could not believe the sky! It was gorgeous! A bright blue sky with an amazing array of clouds - everything from the puffy white ones to the thin, wispy ones, against a thin, barely perceptible layer of rippled clouds - all of them illuminated by the rising sun... It was really beyond my capacity to describe. I spent probably twenty minutes stealing glances at it through the window as I was driving. If today was the last sunrise I ever saw, I could die a happy man. It was that good. All that, and I didn't have my camera with me today. *sigh*

One Downside of Being Sick

Patience. I don't have any.

I got notified of a meeting taking place tomorrow, which I am supposed to attend. Me, the two company principals, and the three civil engineers. The topic?

"We will be discussing recent concerns and procedures for checking plans and information given to the surveyors for construction staking."

Right. Might as well have just said "we're gonna chew Nilo out again for that discrepancy on the school, but this time, we're gonna do it in front of a bunch of people." I'm getting so damn sick of this. It seems that once you get something in some people's craw around here, you'll hear about it for years to come. Psh.

I am praying for patience and the ability to just bite my tongue and nod my head a lot tomorrow. Either that, or that my wife has the baby tonight.

Déjà Flu

The distinct feeling of having suffered through this debilitating sickness before. This word is also a combination of the terms:

Déja Poo - (n.) The distinct feeling af having felt extremely crappy recently, and...

Déjà Goo - (n.) The distinct feeling of having expelled at least your body's weight in phlegm over the past 24 hours.

As you can tell, I'm feeling like a total rock star here. And then, to add to the whole situation, my wife goes into labor last night at 11:30, right after she had assured me that it was okay to take some NyQuil and go to sleep. So, at midnight, we arrived at the hospital and spent the next five hours there hooked up to machines.

Yeah, she was in labor, but didn't seem to progress at all. The contractions stayed about 5-6 minutes apart, and she didn't dilate any further than a 3. So finally my wife says "Bag it. If we're not having a baby tonight, I'm going home to sleep in a real bed." And so, at about 6am, we walk in through our door, and find that the two year old critter has been up since we left, keeping her 80-year old Grandma company.

I still have the flu, but can't afford to take the time off to get feeling better. So here I sit. In a haze. Going for the sympathy vote today.

Poouuuaaahhhsshhheeeeyyuuuttt!

Pronounced "Poo-wah-shee-yut". It's the noise that I've been making today in abundance. The "Poo-wah" is an exclamation signifying that I'm not feeling all that hot, and the "Shee-yut" part details precisely what I'm feeling like. Don't ask why... it's better that way.

Sorry I haven't kept up on the blog over the past couple of days; I know that you've all missed me.... right? (crickets chirping)

Yeah, kinda what I thought. I tried (for a few days) to erase any trace of the name "Paige Hemmis" from my blog, but people still ended up here from Google search and MSN. So, the blog name's back indefinitely, until droves of anxious men wanting to see nudie pics of dear Paige change their focus onto somebody else.

I've ended up with a sucky head cold, and sinuses draining down my throat all day. I would have stayed home, but I need all the sick leave / vacation time I can get, because the wife is going to give birth any day now, and I will need to take my role as Mr. Mom for about a week. So yeah, here I sit, feeling like total crap.

I thought that maybe some comfort food would help, so I headed down to Costco and got a nice, hot slice of pepperoni pizza. I felt great while I was eating it, and then felt like I was going to throw up afterwards. I need to head home and take a nice hot bath, and then go to bed. But not before I play taxi driver for my dad, and listen to another hour of why he hates conservatives.

Last week, I started reading "Angels & Demons" by Dan Brown, author of "The DaVinci Code." Excellent book. I find that I can rarely put his stuff down once I pick it up. Then I read "Deception Point", and had a similarly satisfying experience. I typically don't have time during the day to do such things, so I would stay up late - sometimes up to 2:00am - just to get a little bit of "me" time. And I think that did me some good this weekend.

I gotta run. Worthless post, I know, but today I am a "bear of very little brain".

Another Name Change

Probably as permanent as the last one. It reflects what's going on currently in the life of...a friend.

So I have this friend. And he's in his mid-30's, and is starting to realize that life is not how he had imagined it.

He didn't have huge expectations in life, like being rich or married to a supermodel, or anything stellar like that. He did want to be happy at what he did for a living, and wanted to have a happy, healthy relationship with his wife and with his kids.

He didn't think that these goals would be so difficult, but yeah, that's fair. Because nothing in life that is worth having is ever easy.

He's not the type to give up on anything, even with the possibility that he might be miserable for the rest of his days looming over him like some evil sphincter spectre. He has made a committment to put every ounce of effort he has into his marriage, so that he doesn't end up like his inlaws after all of their kids grew up and moved out: Two strangers living under the same roof, sleeping in different bedrooms.

Sometimes he wonders if his wife loves the idea of having a husband more than she loves him. As far as husbands go, he's not too bad. He shares pretty well in the parental responsibilities, and does more than a lot of husbands do. He has even sacrificed any semblance of a social life to be a better dad and hubby. He's not one to have an affair, either. He's pretty damn loyal in that respect.

But he wonders often if his struggles are worth it, if they are appreciated, if he is loved by those he loves. The words "I love you" are often said to him, but rarely shown to him.

He hates self-pity and won't indulge in it, but still gets the gnawing feeling that he boarded the wrong train at the station sometimes.

I'll probably eventually delete this post, so I don't get this guy in trouble. But what is a blog, if not a semi-anonymous sounding board?