Why I Hate Seudy

These are emails that I received today. The first one was sent to everyone in the local office (note the last line.) The second was one coworker's response.

Below are the items that will be provided by *company name edited* for the potluck on December 21st. Beverages will also be provided. You are welcome to bring in a dessert, appetizer, or anything else you'd like, however it is not necessary (Todd & Elizabeth - your dessert items ARE required!) I'll need to give the restaurant an accurate head-count, so if you have not rsvp'd yet, please do so ASAP.

• Caesar Salad
• Served with French Bread & Garlic Butter
• Two Pastas: Spaghetti and Tortellini
• Two Sauces: Meat Sauce and Pesto
• One Entrée: Italian Herb Chicken

If you have complaints about the menu, see Wendy!

Ms. Wendy,

I am appalled at the choices for this years holiday potluck. How can one be so clearly biased and insensitive to the needs of the greater *company name edited* community? This menu is clearly showing your malcontent for diversity and political correctness at *company name edited*. Who eats only Italian food on the holidays? That's right...only Italians. So basically you have Big Delbrocco covered and that's it. It is one thing to throw in some wet noodles on top of a festive feast to appease those Philadelphia heathens and another to clearly choose foods which don't represent diversity of culture here at *company name edited*.

With that said, I believe that the following companies should be chosen for our 'Holiday' party. Taco Bell, KFC, Wendy's, and Subway. All the major ethnic and religious groups are covered by choosing these fine vendors and what says America more than greasy fat food for people above 30 working on muffin tops. Oh, I forgot one thing: Desert. Clearly we need to have Dairy Queen as the provider; however, we cannot choose the ghetto one down in lakewood. If we do that, then we will get mass orders of incorrect items.

I am appalled at your lack of political correctness and opposition to celebrating diversity. I am going to have to contact Mr. J. C. about your attitude of neglect to our 'win win win' strategy.

Sincerely,

David W

ps...this is a joke. Please don't fire me. and if you do, then Merry Christmas. There - I said the C word. Christmas Christmas Christmas.

The Cleanup Crew

Right now, Vince and the kids are out back, picking up all the debris from the bathroom project. All the random pieces of wood and leftover tile pieces. Which is lying along the walkway and in the bark covered area under the deck. I was just down there doing laundry, and through the window I could see and hear them. Vince was out there trying to explain to Tripp what should be picked up and what should be left. Tripp was standing there with a small piece of wood in each hand. Vince said "Ok, wood needs to be put into the wheelbarrow. Rocks and bark don't need to be put in the wheelbarrow." Tripp responded with "Ok!" and immediately threw down the wood he had in his hand. Vince asked, "Why did you throw those back down? They need to be in the wheelbarrow." At that point, I decided to come back upstairs and blog. This shit is a whole lot funnier when it happens to someone else.

Typical

Last night, I decided that I wanted the front of the house to be clean. That involves getting the kids to move the crap that they keep on/around the chest by the front door. One of the items lying on the chest was a little flower made out of post-its. It was made by Megan. I told her that she needed to either throw it away or put it in her room. Her choice was to throw it away. Halfway to the garbage, she met Tripp and he commented that it was a cool flower. She gave it to him. He spent about 10 seconds looking at it while walking to the front room to get all of his crap. Then he put it down on the chest. Right where it started. A couple of minutes later, I walked by, saw the flower, and started bitching. At this point, Tripp won't put it away, because he says that it belongs to Megan. Megan won't put it away because she says she gave it to Tripp. The solution? "If someone doesn't put this away RIGHT NOW, everyone is going to bed at 8." The bad news? One of them took care of it, so I didn't get to go to bed at 8. Dammit.

Watch Your Language

My son has learned new words. Ok, he hasn't learned new words, but rather, he decided to string them together in a fashion that is a little different than the original context. He called his sister a stupid asshole fucker. Then he got his mouth washed out with soap.

I've told several people about this lately, but I don't think I actually got across why I was upset. This isn't the first time he's had his mouth washed out with soap. The first time immediately followed him calling me a poopy yo-yo. I'm not worried about him using bad words. I don't think that words are bad. The intention behind the words is what can be bad. I don't want him to say hurtful things to people. I don't want him to lash out with words, solely intended to make the recipient sad. That's no better than physically attacking another person.

He did not get punished for asking "What the fuck is going on here?" the week before. When he said that, I told him that he has to watch where and when he uses that sort of language...but I did not punish him. Saying that was not hurtful to anyone. At least not anyone who was in the room at the time. I'm sure that there are plenty of people out there who would be greatly offended, and I'm all for trying to avoid offending random people. I'm also all for expressing yourself. If "I don't give a flying fuck" gets your point across better than "I don't have an opinion on the subject," I think you should say it. Just not in front of a little old lady who might go into cardiac arrest if she's exposed to the F word.

I expect our impending trip to TN to be an educational experience for the boy. Tennessee...the land of the backhanded compliment. The place where you can say anything negative you want about a person, as long as you smile when you say it, and follow it with "bless her heart." I'm thinking that after the trip, he'll start referring to Megan as "That stupid asshole fucker, bless her heart." While grinning like a maniac.

Hair!

The boy got a new 'do. I still do not know why he uses that pose for all his pictures. I suspect he's in a gang, and that's his gang sign...but I could be wrong.

Do the math.

The other day Kirstie Alley was on Oprah, showing off her weight loss success. Oprah babbled for a bit before Kirstie came out...said that Kirstie had lost 75 of her 220 pounds. Here's what she looks like.



My first thought was "Wow, she's still pretty chunky." My second thought? 220 minus 75 equals less than I currently weigh. But, hey, I'm not on national TV in a bikini, so it's alright. Right???

Think Small

We're going to Tennessee to visit my family in a few weeks. We'll be there for Megan's birthday. That means that my parents will buy actual gifts for her this year, rather than sending cash or gift cards. My mother asked Megan what she wanted for her birthday. She suggested that Megan "think small," since we'd have to pack all the gifts into our luggage for the flight home. My mom isn't exactly wealthy, so the request to "think small" also referred to the price...but Mom didn't actually voice that part. Megan's response? "I want an iPod." Yeah. That's my girl.

Quitter

I've decided to quit smoking. Yes, again. Stop laughing. This time around, I decided to use the patch. I decided that if I could break the habit of doing, then I'd have a better chance of getting rid of the nicotine addiction. One step at a time, right?

Anyway, last night I put on the first patch. Tonight as I got ready for my shower, I removed that patch. The skin underneath is covered in a rash. I have a little square rash right on the back of my shoulder. This made me think that I shouldn't put another patch on. I read the label, and it said that you should stop using the patch if the rash doesn't go away within 4 days. Now, it didn't mention anywhere on the box the fact that you'd probably get a rash. It mentioned headaches and vivid dreams, but no rash. So, I googled it. Turns out the rash is entirely common and will go way within a day. Seems like that's an important bit of information that just wasn't given to me at the appropriate time. Good thing it's sweater weather.

But the patch seems to work. I haven't really wanted a cigarette all day. Until now. You see, this is the time of the night when both kids are in bed, but I'm still awake. This is usually when I waste time smoking. But tonight, I have to waste time other ways. This probably means I'll be blogging a lot more. You will all be treated with the random shit that goes through my mind while I'm cleaning and playing board games with the kids. Like tonight, when I spent a good bit of time wondering exactly why kids can't hear curse words. Interesting, no? At least when I finally go insane, you'll all have seen it coming. (Shut up. I am not already insane.)

Buy more makeup

Well, I guess this is why I'll never look like a woman in a magazine. Maybe if I had a neck stretcher....eBay here I come.

Christmas Lights

Vince: (Pointing at large tree in the middle of the back yard) I think we should put lights on that tree this year.

Me: Sure, I'd like that.

Vince: I think that if I took a ladder up the tree to the highest big branches, I could stand on it and reach the top.

Me: You know, I don't think I'd really like to have lights on that tree.

Vince: Or we could get some of that net lighting. I could pull it up to the top of the tree while standing on those big branches.

Me: Ok. That sounds like a much better idea.

Vince: But, we have to wait for it to get icy first.

Me: ...

Magic Dust

Yesterday afternoon, I was playing football with Tripp. By "playing football," I mean that I stood on the deck and listened to him babble as he stands in the yard below, trying to throw the football over the railing. Anyway, yesterday he was babbling on, and said "Mama, guess what. Today at school, I got to touch some magic dust." My first thought was, "Oh shit. He's 6, and I already have to worry about drugs at school?" I asked him who had the magic dust. He said that it was on the fence. I asked what color it was, and he said that no one can see it except the teachers. Now I'm really confused, so I asked how he knew it was magic dust. Then he explained. During PE, the coach told all the kids that the fence at the far end of the playground had magic dust on it. The kids had to run to the fence, get some of the magic dust, and bring it back to the coach. I guess that works out a lot better than telling the kids "Just run to the fence and back. You need the exercise. Fatass."

My Obituary

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Highly Dramatic

Little girls love drama. Actually, a lot of big girls love it, too...but I'm exposed to little girl drama on a more regular basis. Megan and her friends go through love/hate cycles. These life span of these cycles is about 18 hours. Maybe less. But that doesn't seem to stop the tears from falling. One night last week, Megan was crying at bedtime. I asked her why, and she related the following....all names have been changed, mostly because I can't fucking spell most of her friends names...

"Well, we were playing tetherball and Jane did a foul, so I called her on it, but she got mad and then she said she didn't like me anymore and then she made Sue not like me, and then they made Jill not like me, and then they started a club for not liking me and Betsy, Lola and Gloria all joined and now no one likes me and I'll never have another friend as long as I live."

My advice to her was to wait until the next day before accepting her fate as the school outcast. I pointed out that she's had arguments with her friends before, thought that they were the end of the world, and realized later that it wasn't such a big deal after everyone calmed down. I also pointed out that if several people get pissed at her, it's probably because she's being particularly bitchy that day.

The following afternoon, when I arrived at daycare to pick her up, I asked "Are your friends still your friends?" They were. Huh. Imagine that. Girl drama that isn't really all that dramatic.

Boy Are Different

I have a little trouble communicating with my boy. I try and try to understand what it is that goes on inside his head, but I just can't. I think that the problem is that he's 6 and he's male. Eventually the issues that come with being 6 will disappear, but the issues with being male....well, that won't go away. Unless there's surgery involved. And even then, I'm not sure that anything would change in his mental process. Boys just think differently than girls. Let me give you an example.

Last night, as I was going to my room to shower, I told Megan, "As soon as you finish your homework, take a bath. It would be nice if you were in the shower already by the time I get out of mine." She said ok. I showered. She was in the shower when I came out of my room. If that situation had involved Tripp instead of Megan, things would have worked differently. When I finished my shower, he wouldn't have been in the bath. He might not even have finished his homework. Hell, he might not have even started his homework. And, if I called him on it, his response would be "Well, you didn't say I HAD to be in the bath by the time you were finished. You said it would be nice."

Soccer Mom

My son is in a soccer program offered by the Boy Scouts. A Hispanic outreach program. I wasn't sure about letting him participate at first. But I decided to give it a chance, and so far, it's been a positive experience. No religious indoctrination whatsoever. Only patriotism indoctrination. Is that even a term?

On Friday nights, he plays soccer for 2/3 of the practice, and for the other third, he does some sort of Boy Scout activity. This past week, they learned how to fold the flag. They were also told about how great they have it, living in the United States. I kinda don't mind telling my kids things like this. Because I think it's true. There might be a lot wrong here, but there's a whole lot that's right as well.

Saturday night is game night. The kids show up and get assigned to a team, so that the same players aren't always on the same team and the kids get to interact with more people. When you sign in, you're given a card with the name of the team you'll play with. Last weekend, Tripp was assigned to the Squirrels, so we went off in search of his team mates.



The lady holding the sign most likely did not write the team name on it. She's a parent volunteer, chosen because she showed up with her kid first. She has to serve as coach to a group of 6 year old boys. Some of whom are likely to not speak her primary language. Her main job is to keep the kids waiting their turn off the field and away from the ball. Also preferably out of the net, but she wasn't completely successful with that one. At the end of the game, one net was at least 5 feet further to the left than it started. Bet she won't be early again. That'll teach her.

So it's official. I am now a soccer mom. Maybe someday soon I'll tell you something about my daughter's soccer/poetry program.

An Honest Wedding Ceremony

Bwahahaha!

Asshole of the Day

Yesterday, on my way in to work, I saw an asshole. Not like I saw balls during the wedding reception last weekend...but an asshole none the less. My route to work includes driving through a school zone. This particular school zone is fairly heavily patrolled. At least 2-3 days a week, there are a minimum of 3 cops lying in wait for speeders. I see people getting tickets there on a regular basis. I assume that most other people who travel this particular road daily are aware of the likelihood of getting a ticket if they're going faster than 20.

Anyway, yesterday, about 3 blocks before the school zone, there was a car going about 15 mph. In the left lane. I decided to pass him. The 5 cars behind me decided to pass him. Then he decided to wait until entering the school zone to speed up to about 40 and fly by all of us while flipping everyone off. I'm not entirely sure why he was so pissed. Probably because he's an asshole.

Sound Familiar?

The following was copied from a book called Einstein's Bridge, by John Cramer. See if any of you guys who work with me think of he same thing I thought of when I read it.

"Right," said Roger. "The DOE labs have essentially halted scientific research while everyone scrambles around attending safety seminars, writing detailed safety procedures for every conceivable scenario of possible disaster, and filling vast bookshelves with thousand-page documents that no one will ever read."

Now, in the book it's part of a plot to halt government funding of the Superconducting Super Collider, basically by making the project appear inept. The thing that this paragraph reminded me of is a current business practice that is meant to improve products.

Mommy burned me on purpose!

Tripp: Can I have some of the garlic bread?

Me: No. It just came out of the oven and it's still very hot.

Tripp: But I want some.

Me: It's hot.

Tripp: Just a little.

Me: Too hot.

Tripp: I never get anything I want. All I want is bread, and you won't let me have it.

Me: Fine. Get some. But it's going to burn you because it's still hot.

Tripp: OOOWWWWWW! It hurts! You burned me on purpose, Mommy.

Football

Football season is upon us. We've been watching a lot of football at our house. We've also been throwing the ball around in the yard quite a bit. Sometimes we even kick the ball. Sometimes, the ball goes toward the back of the yard. Where the big trees stand. And sometimes, people have to climb those trees to retrieve the football...



Just in case you didn't spot him, here's a closer look.

Celebrations

Last night, Vince was filling in the calendar with his opera stuff for the next several months. He stopped suddenly and the following conversation took place.

Vince: Honey....I'm very sorry, but I have to work on the Vernal Equinox.

Me: Oh no! But that's a major holiday for me. You're not going to be upset if we do the naked goat dance without you are you?

Vince: I would be upset with that whether I were here or not.

Me: Oh. Fine, then. No naked goat dance.

Vince: Looks like I'll also be working on Easter Monday.

Me: You know, we generally do the naked goat dance then, too.

Lost

Yesterday, I lost the boy for a bit. When I saw him go out the front door, I assumed that he was going to ride his bike or scooter. A few minutes later, I walked past the windows and realized that I couldn't see him. So I went out front and called for him. No answer. I went back inside and asked Megan if she'd seen him. She hadn't. I went to his room and looked under his bed. No Tripp. I went downstairs and looked for him. Still nothing. I walked out to his tree house. Nada. I looked in his sister's clubhouse. But no. I even went into the garage. The garage, people! Still nothing. Then I went to the front of the house again. This time I saw him. Coming away from the front door of the house across the street. Which is bad. He's not allowed to go into any of the houses on our street, because I don't know the people and there are no kids his age in any of them. I asked him what he'd been doing. "Selling stuff." I asked what he was selling. "This"...while holding up a plastic Smurf that's definitely seen better days. It's grubby and nasty. But he was going door-to-door, trying to sell it. I had a brief hope that he'd only gone to the one house, directly across the street...but no. He went to ALL the houses. Selling a grimy Smurf. I'm sure the neighbors love us.

Improve the Workplace

In a meeting a couple of weeks ago, our boss told us that we need to come to work a little more regularly. It seems that the higher level management has been wandering around the building, just to see who is at work. They do this around 5 on Fridays, I believe. Anyway, our boss suggested that we actually BE at work for the hours we claim on our timecard. The following day, there was another meeting, during which the higher level management covered timecards again, implying that we might have to start punching a clock, rather than being trusted to keep track of our working hours on our own.

Today, our boss sent out an email asking for suggestions on how to improve staff retention and employee morale. I think that my suggestion might be "How about you back off that whole attendance thing a little?"

How Things Work

Yesterday, the kids and I were watching a movie. The movie had two main characters, both male. One is thin...the other is not. In the final scene of the movie, two girls showed up to ask the guys on dates. Tripp noted that the fat guy would get the ugly girl. I asked which one he thought was ugly, and he pointed her out. Megan asked, "The one who looks like Mama?" I looked at her in askance. She immediately launched into an explanation that would make it seem less like she just described her mother as "the ugly one." This explanation involved saying "Well, not how you look NOW...maybe how you used to look. When you were young."

Conversations At Work

Chat Buddy says:
have you heard of people sitting on balls
Chat Buddy says:
at work.. instead of a chair
Wendy says:
Yeah.
Chat Buddy says:
fitness balls
Wendy says:
Supposed to be good for your posture.
Chat Buddy says:
and abs
Chat Buddy says:
i might get one
Wendy says:
You'll fall off.
Chat Buddy says:
i might fall off
Wendy says:
I suspect that just sitting up straight is what's good for your abs.
Chat Buddy says:
you see me... i slouch
Wendy says:
Me, too.
Wendy says:
Except for right now.
Chat Buddy says:
not me
Wendy says:
I wish we had better desks.
Chat Buddy says:
i wish we had better chairs
Chat Buddy says:
your turn...
Wendy says:
I wish I understood tax credits.
Chat Buddy says:
i wish the sun was shining
Wendy says:
I wish we didn't have a meeting in 45 minutes.
Chat Buddy says:
i wish i won the lottery and could leave this filth behind me
Wendy says:
I wish you'd get a ball to sit on so I could laugh when you fall off.
Chat Buddy says:
i wish my ball would vibrate. that would be fun
Wendy says:
And you'd NEVER leave your desk.
Wendy says:
Wait...ball? You only have one?
Chat Buddy says:
did you know that if you have a testicle removed, they can put in an artificial one?
Wendy says:
I did not.
Chat Buddy says:
it was on tv
Wendy says:
....what, exactly, would the artificial one be FOR?
Chat Buddy says:
um.... just so there are 2 to play with
Chat Buddy says:
i mean.. .so if feels natural to your partner
Wendy says:
lol…have an artificial ball implanted in order to feel natural.
Chat Buddy says:
would you get a new boob if you lost one?
Wendy says:
I'm not THAT absent minded.
Chat Buddy says:
you wouldn't laugh if i fell off my ball, would you?
Wendy says:
Yes. Yes, I would.

Unattended

When Todd is left unattended, you get candy bars taped to walls. When I'm left unattended, you get pointless blogs. So, today I noticed something about my yard. The kudzu is doing wonderfully. Bushy and green and spreading.



The mutant tree bush is also doing well. All 4-5 types of bush/tree are thriving and vibrant.



The grass growing in the middle of the walkway is spreading nicely.



The entire rest of the yard looks like a wasteland. I'm firmly convinced that Mother Nature is punishing me for something. At least there's lots of color. Yellow and brown count, right?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Yesterday I went to the doctor and was given prescriptions for allergy medicine. For some reason, this year, my allergies have gone ape-shit. He gave me prescriptions for two things. One is a nasal spray, which, if used daily for a week or so, will prevent histamines from being released. The other is an anti-histamine, which prevents released histamines from attaching. When I went to the pharmacy to pick up the prescriptions, I was shocked to discover that each medicine had a $50 co-pay. My insurance company has 3 tiers of drugs, which cost $10, $20, and $50, respectively. The tiers are explained as follows (the important lines are italicized):

# Tier 1- Drugs offering the greatest value within a therapeutic class. Some of these are the generic equivalents of brand name drugs.
# Tier 2 - Moderate Cost Drugs. These can be multi-source brand name drugs which are drugs which have a generic equivalent. Other drugs on this tier are the preferred drugs within a therapeutic class based on clinical efficacy and cost as determined by the Anthem Pharmacy and Therapeutics Committee.
# Tier 3 - Higher Cost Drugs. These are typically single source brand name drugs which are brand name drugs that do not have a generic equivalent. These also may include single source brand name drugs that have no other therapeutic equivalent, but are determined to be a third tier drug solely on the basis of cost. In addition, drugs on this tier may be a higher cost than equivalent drugs on lower tiers or drugs determined to be less efficient than equivalent drugs on lower tiers by the Anthem Pharmacy and Therapeutics Committee.

Yes. The insurance company is evidently in charge of determining which drugs I should take. They know which drugs are efficient and which are inefficient. I'm not sure why I should go to a doctor at all. I can understand why insurance companies have different co-pay amounts for generic and name brand drugs. It makes perfect sense that they should try to influence the patients to take the least expensive version of a medication. But that third tier is bullshit. There is no valid reason for the insurance company to dictate which drugs are effective. That should be up to the doctor and patient.

Inappropriate Behavior

Yesterday, Megan came to me to complain because Tripp was trying to kiss her. By "came to me," I mean that she beat the shit out of him until I heard him crying and made her stop. Anyway, she told me what he was doing to antagonize her, and I had a short discussion with him. It consisted of "Don't kiss your sister." His response was "But I like her." This led to further discussion, in which I told him that it's not ok to kiss people without their permission. At that point, Megan decided to tell me that Tripp has been kissing girls at daycare...without their permission. The whole permission thing seemed just beyond Tripp's grasp. I said, over and over, "You can't just go around kissing whoever you want, whenever you want. The other person has to say it's ok first!" He kept saying, over and over, "But they won't say it's ok!" I suspect that Tripp and I will be having this conversation a few more times.

And on a related note....according to one of my coworkers, if you want to have a three-some, you have to order a pizza.

Working Hard

Here at work we have a couple of pranksters. For example, one day a coworker left his cell phone lying on his desk while he went to lunch...when he came back, his phone was programmed to display everything in Spanish. On another occasion, a coworker left for a business trip and while he was gone, someone reprogrammed his office phone so that when he makes interoffice calls, the caller id will read "CALL FROM IDIOT" rather than reading "CALL FROM EXT 000"

Well, earlier this week they decided to redecorate my office while I was gone. I have a basket of miniature candy bars on my desk (part of my plot to appear skinnier by making the people around me fatter.) When I got back, the candy bars (and also my little ducky) were taped to the walls and ceiling.

Home Run!

Last night at the Mariner's game, Tripp caught a home run ball. Well, he didn't exactly "catch" it. The ball fell neatly into his lap after bouncing off a couple of gloves. But he was definitely excited about it. We were on TV and everything!

Cell Phone Plans

I recently changed my cell phone plan to include unlimited PCS to PCS calls. This means Vince and I can call each other as often as necessary...for free. Very handy. Mostly because we have long, deep conversations like the following:

*ring*
Me: Hey, you know that big box of porn in the garage?
Him: Yep.
Me: Is there anything in there with a midget blowing a clown?
Him: No, but there's one with a midget as Santa's evil elf.
Me: Ok, thanks. Talk to you later.
Him: Bye.

The Kid Card

A few of my coworkers have commented that I "play the kid card" when I don't want to come to work. I absolutely do this. You see, it's ever so much more entertaining to stay at home with a bitchy child than to go to work. Especially when work equates to surfing, playing games, and watching funny video clips on youtube. I'm SO happy that, rather than reading all the comics in my daily rotation (which is my normal accomplishment by 9 am on work days,) I've cleaned the kitchen and dining area completely and done a couple of loads of laundry.

Of course, that pretty much clears out my chores for the day. So I think I might go take a nap or read a book. One good thing about sick kids is that they sleep a lot. Right now, she's watching TV like Vince watches sports. To the casual observer, this style of TV viewing looks a lot like sleeping. However, I've been informed on multiple occasions that it is NOT sleeping. I'm gonna go help her watch TV now. Enjoy your work day!

Mass Murder

Lately, I've begun a battle with dandelions. They're vicious creatures. I attempted specicide last weekend, but to no avail. So on Tuesday, I got more dandelion killer. I planned my attack for Tuesday evening, but it was delayed for 1 to 2 days while I watered the lawn excessively. Today became D-Day. But when I read the instructions for application on the dandelion killer, I noticed the following line..."Do not use if the temperature is expected to exceed 85 degrees within the next 24 hours." Dammit! It's hot, what, one week a year here? And the planned attack managed to coincide with it. Or maybe it wasn't a coincidence. Maybe these dandelions are better connected than I thought. Mother Nature is protecting them. Grrrr

Let's Get Educated

My sister has a college degree. A Bachelor of Arts in Communication. That means she had to take a lot of English classes. She put a note in the birthday card that she sent to me. It reads:

Hopefully, you'll have new pics of Brendan before you get this card. We were gonna get one of all the kids done, but Katie got a bug bite on her forehead.

Wonderful grammar and structure, no? I realize that I can't really make fun, because my grammar is horrible...especially when I'm speaking. But my degree was in a technical field. We're expected to suck at writing. The expectation is strong enough that every CS advisor will stress the importance of passing the writing exam required for graduation. They even offer to tutor for free if a student feels that he needs the help. Her degree is in journalism. She had to write articles for several classes in college. Enough so that following the basic rules of English would be a natural act. Writing things incorrectly should just feel wrong, even without thinking about it. My first thought was "well, how good can a university in Tennessee be?" But I went there for a couple of semesters, and my classes more challenging the school where I finished my degree. Maybe they have different rules for grammar in TN. What she wrote could be completely, grammatically correct by the rules she learned. Nah....I think she's just too lazy to do it right.

And another

Dave found the following entry on Wikipedia. Sometimes these things change....so I'm giving the link, as well as the text that was on the page when I read it. Oh, and Dave...there's no way you can be a Nice Guy. The article states over and over again that Nice Guys are intelligent. Ha!

Nice Guy Syndrome

"Nice Guy Syndrome" is a folk psychology term. Some use it to describe an adult male who seeks sexual attraction and romantic intimacy, but only finds cordial friendship and platonic love. Others use it to describe an adult male who acts as though he seeks friendship, but only as a foothold to gain a more intimate relationship. The term originates from a type of platitude said to be heard by such men ("You're a really nice guy and all, but...")[citation needed]. Several dating gurus discuss this phenomenon and attempt to offer solutions for it.

The "nice guy" is described as a pleasant, intelligent, unattractive and highly considerate male and with low or misguided confidence (especially with women). These traits often lead to afflicted men being a very good listener, and articulate and expressive speakers. They are also more negatively polite than their peers[citation needed]. Such men are often frustrated, if not indignant, about their romantic trouble. They may also use their status as a "nice guy" to gain sympathy from the women they are interested in.

According to some, men abuse the theory of the nice guy syndrome to justify lack of interest from attractive women. They counter that these men make no effort to find "nice" women.[citation needed]William Sheldon's somatotype theory, now discredited as a pseudoscience, stated that many of the personality and physical traits associated with "nice guys" were linked. Such men were of the ectomorph type. Some have linked this type to low levels of testosterone.

Friend/lover trait confusion

One theory about the origin of the syndrome is that it results from the affected males having a false perception of what "nice girls" (the women they desire) want in a lover. They usually believe that these women want their men to be intelligent and highly considerate of their needs, and believe they have these qualities. Conversely, they believe these women dislike stupidity and arrogance, abhor misogyny and violence expressed towards them, and place less value on physical attractiveness, muscular strength, cardiovascular endurance, and confidence than other women (see Sexual attraction). On the other hand, the "nice guys" themselves rarely value these traits - prefering to pursue sexually attractive women, over intelligent considerate ones.

This is highly misguided. While there are many traits that conventionally make men initially attractive to women (physical appearence, confidence, humour), when seeking a relationship a women is not looking for a bundle of traits, but a particular person.

When a "nice girl" type friend of a "nice guy" enters into an intimate relationship with any other male, the "nice guy" is often highly confused or upset. The "nice guy" may become passive-agressive, and confront the woman about her failure to recognise his (superior) qualities. This mental anguish occurs because he cannot reconcile his understanding of women with his vastly different experience. Yet despite the disparity, his erroneous belief does not change (see Milton Rokeach).

Despite a long history of failing to get a "nice girl", the "nice guy" repeatedly insists that the problem is with the many girls he has encountered, not himself. Often he will perform the actions of a friend (comforting when upset, listening to problems) and then announcing that women they are pursueing "owes" them something for their actions. If she refuses to date him, he may become angry and indignant and mention that clearly she doesn't want to date "nice guys". If she dates someone else, the "nice guy" will wait for the relationship to go wrong so that he can prove himself superior.

While similar to the Ladder theory, this theory is not as diametric. Men can be on both "ladders" under this theory, even if a woman doesn't realize it.

Sociobiology

The protoscientific fields of sociobiology and evolutionary psychology have hypothesised a possible adaptionary role for the "nice guys" of this theory. Humans can act like the cuckoo - the eggs are fertilized by one father, but another bird raises the children.

A disputed study allegedly found that many ovulating women prefer men with testosterone-influenced characteristics they consider "rough", while those women during the rest of their menstrual cycle prefer men that look like "nice guys". (disputed—see talk page) Some women prefer "nasty" types for short term flings (primarily involving sex), while "nice guys" are more likely to be preferred for long term relationships (which often include child rearing).
Too nice

Another theory is that as a general matter, women enjoy men who make them feel "special," who seem to value them above the rest of the world. As a "nice guy" is generally nice to most people, women may not feel that the "nice guy" is treating them with special preference, as they expect.

Others believe that women may come to misperceive a clingy or needy aura from the "nice guy" merely by virtue of the fact he may seem overly nice. Clinginess or neediness are usually seen as undesirable, even though these traits may foster security and loyalty later.

Passive aggression

Dr Robert A Glover's "Nice Guy" theory is that the Nice Guy's relationship problems are due to passive aggression. He believes the niceness requires the men to suppress the overt expression of their desires, which leads to less direct covert expression.

Dr. Glover holds that the syndrome expands far beyond the dating world, and cripples the Nice Guy in nearly every aspect of his life. In his book "No More Mr. Nice Guy" he explains that "Nice Guys are fundamentally dishonest, and anything but nice." In short, Nice Guys are liars and untrustworthy. By repressing their own feelings, needs and desires, Nice Guys create "covert contracts" and hold other people accountable for their sense of self-worth. Dr. Glover provides helpful steps he calls "Breaking Free Exercises" designed to help Nice Guys take ownership of their lives and replace old, dysfunctional paradigms with new, healthy ones.

I TOLD you there was nothing wrong with me!

You Are 60% Normal

Otherwise known as the normal amount of normal You're like most people most of the time But you've got those quirks that make you endearing You're unique, yes... but not frighteningly so!

How Normal Are You?

You Are 52% Abnormal

You are at medium risk for being a psychopath. It is somewhat likely that you have no soul. You are at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at medium risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is somewhat likely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at high risk for having a social phobia. It is very likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

How Abnormal Are You?

Nothing to Say

I still don't really have anything to say, but my ability to avoid work degrades with every passing day, so I thought I would post a blog anyway. Just to practice my procrastination. These things are important, you know.

This morning, I have realized two things. First...I really have no business driving this early in the morning. I haven't had a wreck, but I could possibly have come close. I say possibly, because I have no way of being even remotely sure. You see, I get in the car, immediately zone out, then suddenly I'm at work, 30 miles away. Second...if you buy a soda at a convenience store first thing in the morning, you should probably decline the brown paper bag that they will try to give you. Unless, of course, you like staggering into your place of business looking like a wino. I don't do well with mornings. Have I mentioned that?

Oh...and I just have to show everyone this again. That's MY man.

Stealth Blogging

My mom asked me for pictures of the new place. A couple hundred times. I finally got around to taking them and decided that the easiest way to get them to the family back home would be a blog. But then I thought about it, and decided that it might be better if they don't see this particular blog. You never know when a random family-negative comment might need to be made. Anyway, if any of you guys want to see the pictures, here you go. Try not to enjoy yourselves too terribly much.

What's for dinner?

I have discovered a new way to handle dinner. Honestly, I can't imagine why I didn't think of this before. This article describes one woman's experience with the method. Anybody know where I can buy a sword?

Fashion Sense

Tripp picked out his clothes on his own this morning.


Yes, those are swim shoes. He had on black dress shoes when he went to school, but evidently those make it difficult to ride a bike, so he changed. That's my boy.

How to tell if the bathroom is clean....

Or, an alternate title, "Things I never thought I'd have to say."

Last night, my son had a sleepover. They destroyed the bathroom. After I went in to unclog the sink, I told Tripp that he had to clean the bathroom. He was in there for a while, then he came out to have me come check his work. I went in and looked around...then said "The bathroom is not clean if there is an empty ketchup bottle on the counter." He was surprised. Evidently, in his world, the bathroom counter is an acceptable storage location for empty ketchup bottles.

Other People's Kids

Every day I get to hear a lot of tattling from various kids in the neighborhood. Sometimes the tattling warrants a punishment. Other times it warrants a "get over it." But today was my favorite type of result. A "well, what the fuck were you thinking?" This kid comes knocking, telling on Megan. Evidently Megan had collected some pieces of lumber and the boy wanted her to share. She didn't share, so he threw a rock down into a puddle and soaked himself. He was angry because he got wet. Very angry. I asked, more than once, "So...you're telling on Megan because YOU threw a rock in a puddle and got wet?" His response was always "Yes!"...and we'd look at each other like "What the fuck are you thinking?"

Diorama

My daughter has to make a diorama of a kangaroo habitat for school. I'm not sure if she was assigned the kangaroo or if she chose it on her own. I am certain, however, that she knows little to nothing about kangaroos. When she first told me about this assignment, I asked her if she'd thought about how she wanted the diorama to look. Of course she hadn't. So I asked if she had any idea what I should buy her to facilitate in her production of a high class diorama. Still a no. So I thought I'd get right to the basics. I asked her what she knows about kangaroos. Blank look. Ok, Megan, where do kangaroos live? Her response...."In the wild." I'm thinking that this project might not go very well.

My mom is the best!!

By: Megan (my female vampiric offspring)

"My mom is the best because she is very nice. The first reason she is very nice is because she takes care of me. The second reason my mom is very nice because she takes me lots and lots of places. The last reason my mom is very nice is because she spends time with me. The second reason my mom is the best is because she is hard working. She is hardworking because she cleans the house. The second reason she is hardworking because she works for long periods of time. The last reason my mom is hardworking is because she reads about 25-40 minutes. The last reason my mom is the best is because she is funny. She is funny because she makes funny faces. She walks funny. The last reason she is funny is because she tells funny jokes. As you can see, my mom is the best"

--------------------------

This is how my daughter sees me. I'm glad she was able to work in the bit about me walking funny.

Stereotypes

I know, stereotyping is bad. I shouldn't do it. But sometimes it just FITS. The kids are outside dancing. Evidently Megan and Ty-Eesha made up a dance at daycare. They're trying to teach it to two other girls. Racial makeup of the group is two black kids, one white kid and two mixed kids (white and black.) Three of the kids can flat dance. Two of them lack any sense of rhythm whatsoever. Can you guess who they are? It's Megan and one of the mixed kids. I guess that one got her lack of dancing ability from her white parent. Don't get me wrong, they can all do the dance. But the two rhythmless kids just look funny doing it. They're sometimes a beat or two off....and they always look stiff. The stereotype is true. White people can't dance.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I've just had the most surreal afternoon. The people upstairs invited me up for a BBQ. There was a lady there, probably 7 months pregnant, who was drinking and smoking. I was sitting next to her boyfriend. He told me that he'd had to get rid of his car, because it was putting out too much CO2, and that stuff is bad for his girlfriend and the baby. I guess you gotta draw the line somewhere.

Who I Hate Today

Last fall, my daughter had to get fillings and have a tooth removed. Prior to getting this work done, I had to give the dentist a check for somewhere between $200-300. I don't remember the exact amount right off hand. Anyway, they happily took my check, pulled a tooth, put fillings in other teeth, and then sent us on our way. A few months later, I got a bill for $485. I called to ask why. I was told that my insurance covered silver fillings at 80%, but that they had put in white fillings, which the insurance covers at %50. Let me recap...the dentist office called my insurance and asked what they covered for fillings...they did not specify that they were going to use the more expensive fillings...they got a dollar amount that the insurance allowed...passed that amount on to me as what had to be paid before getting the work done. At no point did anyone tell me that that particular dental office only used white fillings and that I would be stuck paying an extra $485 if I chose to have the work done there. No one told me that I could choose to go to another office and have silver fillings used.

That brings us to today. After getting a phone call from a collection agency, I decided to give another shot at talking the dentist into not making me pay the additional $485. They were less than agreeable. So I called back and asked them to send me a copy of the kids' records, planning to take the records along with us when we visit our new dentist for the first time. They said I could have a copy, but that since there was a balance on my account, I'd have to pay a fee for the duplicating fees. I said ok, thinking it would be, what...maybe $10 to make copies? Not so much. The price is $100 per child. They want me to pay them $200 to run the fucking copier. What the hell is wrong with people?

The things I learn....

Bat-wings - the sensation you get when the sweat sticks one ball to each thigh.

I, for one, welcome our dolphin overlords.

Today I read an article about dolphins having names. I thought it was kinda interesting, until I saw this on a well-known news site....

Dolphins Evolve Opposable Thumbs

'Oh, Shit,' Says Humanity

August 30, 2000 | Issue 36•30

HONOLULU–In an announcement with grave implications for the primacy of the species of man, marine biologists at the Hawaii Oceanographic Institute reported Monday that dolphins, or family Delphinidae, have evolved opposable thumbs on their pectoral fins.

Enlarge Image

One of the evolved dolphins, whose opposable thumbs have struck fear in the hearts of humankind.

"I believe I speak for the entire human race when I say, 'Holy fuck,'" said Oceanographic Institute director Dr. James Aoki, noting that the dolphin has a cranial capacity 40 percent greater than that of humans. "That's it for us monkeys."

Aoki strongly urged humans, especially those living near the sea, to learn to communicate using a system of clicks and whistles in a frequency range of 4 to 150 kHz. He also encouraged humans to "start practicing their echolocation as soon as possible."

Delphinologists have reported more than 7,000 cases of spontaneous opposable-digit manifestation in the past two weeks alone, with "thumbs" observed on the bottle-nosed dolphin, the Atlantic humpback dolphin, and even the rare Ganges River dolphin.

"It appears to be species-wide," said dolphin specialist Clifford Brees of the Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal Laboratory, speaking from the shark cage he welded shut around himself late Monday. "And it may be even worse: We haven't exactly been eager to check for thumbs on other marine mammals belonging to the order of cetaceans, such as the killer whale. Oh, Christ, we're really in the soup now."

Thus far, all the opposable digits encountered appear to be fully functional, making it possible for dolphins–believed to be capable of faster and more complex cogitation than man–to manipulate objects, fashion tools, and construct rudimentary pulley and lever systems.

A primitive axe crafted out of driftwood and shell that is believed to be the handiwork of dolphins.

"They really seem to be making up for lost time with this thumb thing," said Dr. Jim Kuczaj, a University of California–San Diego biologist who has studied the seasonal behavior of dolphins for more than 30 years. "Last Friday, a crude seaweed-and-shell abacus washed up on the beach near Hilo, Hawaii. The next day, a far more sophisticated abacus, fashioned from some unknown material and capable of calculating equations involving numbers of up to 16 digits, washed up on the same beach. The day after that, the beach was littered with thousands of what turned out to be coral-silicate and kelp-based biomicrocircuitry."

"My God," Kuczaj added. "What are they doing down there?"

It is unknown what precipitated the dolphins' sudden development of opposable thumbs. Some dolphin behaviorists believe that the gentle marine mammal, pushed to the brink by humanity's reckless pollution and exploitation of the sea, tapped into some previously unmined mental powers to spontaneously generate a thumb-like appendage. However, given that 95 percent of the world's dolphin experts have committed suicide since learning of the development, the full story may never be known.

"You must believe, sleek ocean masters, that many of us homo sapiens weep with shame and disgust over the degradation to which our species has subjected our All-Mother, the Great World-Sea," read the suicide note of Dr. Richard Morse, a Brisbane, Australia, delphinologist and regular contributor to Marine Mammal Science. "If you are reading this, I estimate that it is the day we know as August 31, 2000. Please be decent and kind masters to our poor ape-race. Oh, God, I'm so sorry about the tracking collars."

"Scientists once wondered whether dolphins, with their remarkably advanced social and language structures, are actually smarter than we are," said Aoki, ushering reporters out of the laboratory he claimed "will either be a smoking hole or a zoo exhibit in the coming Dolphin Age." "Well, we're not wondering anymore."

Conversations in Cyberspace

Sometimes I have conversations that I find particularly amusing. Today was one of those times....names have been changed to protect the guilty man dog. :-)

Wendy says:
Honestly, I can't think of anything I'd get up at 5:30 for.
Random Guy says:
good sex?
Wendy says:
It'll still be there at noon.
Random Guy says:
lol!
Wendy says:
And it's bound to be much better of both people involved are awake.
Random Guy says:
well...
Random Guy says:
the oter person doesn't necessarily have to be awake, do they?
Wendy says:
Not if you're the guy, I guess.
Random Guy says:
I like being a guy. We get lots of perks like that.

Meth Skinny

Today when I got home, there was a newsletter from my apartment complex hanging on the door. Two of the headlines caught my eye: "One in Four Kids Overweight" and "Dangers of Methamphetamine Use." Isn't a side effect of meth serious weight loss? Hmmm....this could be a solution for the fat kids. Doesn't everyone want to be meth skinny? Of course, they'd also get irregular heartbeat, increased blood pressure, elevated body temperature, strokes, depression, psychotic episodes and death. Then again, after you're dead, I bet you get REALLY skinny. Dead meth skinny.

WTF is a meme?

According to a little devyl, I should answer these questions and post them in my blog. Since I always do exactly as I'm told, here it is.

1. What is the dish you take to every potluck?
Turtle Pie

2. Have you ever seen or felt a ghost, angel, spirit, or some sort of other-worldy being?
While sober? No.

3. Would you rather never workout again and be skinny forever or be able to work out whenever you wanted to and be a little overweight?
Is this for real? Anything that involves never working out is my choice.

4. What is the hardest thing you think you've experienced so far?
The following conversation.....
Megan: So, you don't love daddy anymore?
Me: No, I don't.
Megan: And you don't love Fred anymore? (Note: He was the first boyfriend after my divorce)
Me: No.
Megan: Are you always going to love me?

5. Do you like Snoopy or Woodstock better?
Woodstock.

6. Can you talk and eat at the same time? And if so, can people understand you?
That's just bad manners.

7. If you could be good at any profession, which would you choose and why?
Probably computer programmer, since that's what I get paid to do.

8. Would you rather be a Playboy bunny or a Hooters girl?
Playboy bunny. Who wouldn't want to wear furry ears and tail?

9. Peanut butter - crunchy or smooth?
Smooth

10. Bad boys, frat boys, intellectuals or dorks?
Intellectual bad boys.

11. Name 6 people, alive or dead, you'd like to invite to dinner.
I'm thinking that inviting dead people to dinner would make for a stinky dinner party.

12. This is a two parter, and be truthful – when you are by yourself, do you get a 6 inch or a 12 inch sandwich from Subway? How about when you are with your friends?
Depends on how hungry I am. For both questions.

13. What was the worst thing one of your siblings ever did to you?
I can't remember my sister ever doing anything particularly bad to me.

14. Location of the best sex you've ever had?
Genital area.

15. Oddest place you've ever had sex?
Which are the even places?

16. If you were super drunk, and REALLY had to pee, but all the toilets were being used, would you consider alternate receptacles, i.e. the mens, outside, a sink?
Hell yes.

17. If you had to pick, classical or jazz?
Jazz

18. What's your favorite kind of pizza?
Bacon and Tomato.

19. Ever flirted with a friend's significant other?
Not seriously.

20. What was the blog site or blog post that began your interest in blogging? Please add the site name and link to specific post if possible for completely entertainment purposes.
Myspace

21. Have you ever eaten a whole bag of marshmallows?
No.

22. Last time you drank so much that you had to throw up?
It's been a few months. And I don't think Vince has cleaned the bathroom yet.

23. Do you have a stupid human trick you can do if you ever get on Dave Letterman? And do tell, if so!
I don't think so.

24. Describe your perfect day.
Hanging out on a beach somewhere warm. With warm water. Not ice cold Pacific NW water. The margaritas are allowed to be cold, though.

25. Do you think the concept of a single best friend is outdated and unrealistic?
Pretty much, yeah

26. What about the idea of one true love?
One at a time, maybe.

27. One of your favorite memories of all time?
I forgot.

28. What is your least favorite physical feature about yourself?
Belly.

29. What's your most favorite?
Eyes.

30. If you had one wish for making the world a better place, what would it be?
I'd wish that everyone could truly be open-minded. Not just open-minded when they basically agree already.

31. What traits, good and bad, from your family do you posses?
I have my mother's budgeting ability (this would be bad.) I also have a sarcastic tendency, like everyone else in my family. I'm not sure if this is good or bad.

32. When was the last time you played a board game, which one, and with whom?
Scrabble...within the past month...with Megan.

33. Name some person/place/thing currently that infuriates you
I'm not all that infuriated right now. But I was pretty pissed at the people who live upstairs earlier today.

34. Name some person/place/thing currently that makes you happy, deliriously or otherwise (besides your boyfriend/spouse/fiance girls)
Sitting on the porch in the afternoon watching the kids play makes me happy.

35. Ever been in a car accident? If so, how many and spill the details.
Lots. Only one was memorable, though. I'd had my car for less than a month and some dumb ass rear-ended me while I was stopped at a red light.

36. What's your favorite word?
Sumbitch

RSS Feed

Here's the url for my RSS feed. https://www.feedburner.com/fb/a/feedintro?id=342444

Now quit griping, all of you "But I won't get emails anymore telling me that you'd put up another blog." Handle it. Man handle it if you must. Then wipe your hands and come back to the computer.

Seriously, I've not set up one of these before, so comments and suggestions are welcome.

Roller Skating

Today I went skating. I've been to the skating rink a few times over the past couple of years, but this was the first time I actually skated. It's harder to do than I remember. It's also more blistery. And they play "Another One Bites the Dust" a lot less often. But it was still pretty fun. I came home with no contusions or blood loss.

Oh, and Tripp wants a disco ball of his own.

Making Cookies

This morning, Don wanted to make cookies. So he got out the cookie dough, pressed it into shapes and put them on a pan. I baked the cookies, then set them aside to cool. Approximately 30 minutes later, Don came to me crying (I know, so out of character for him.) Evidently Megan and her friends had eaten all the cookies he made....then replaced them with Playdoh cookies. They went as far as using Playdoh in the same colors and shapes. Looks like we'll be going to the store later to buy more cookie dough. Using Megan's money.

And an update: We bought cookie dough. A pack for Don and a pack for Megan. Megan and her friends decided they wanted to cook theirs with no help from me. I told them that they could do everything up to taking them out of the oven. So a little while later, they tell me that it's time for the cookies to come out. And out they come. Every barely-warm-no-where-near-baked inch of the cookie/cake goodness. I asked them what they were thinking. They said that they wanted a cake, so they just left it all together. Then they argued about whether they should cook it longer or eat it like it is. I made a compromise. I offered to separate the blob-o-cookie, then let them eat what wouldn't fit on the pan. I have faith that one of these days, the children will realize there is no need to cook the cookie dough at ALL. *sniff* That will be a proud day in motherhood.

Don

Not long ago, my son announced to me that he doesn't want to be called "Tripp" anymore. Since Tripp is a nickname, I assumed that he was telling me that he wants to be called by his given name. Of course, he might prefer a shortened version, so I decided to ask for clarification.

Me: Do you mean you want to be called William now?
The boy: No.
Me: No? How about Bill or Billy or maybe Will?
The boy: No. I want to be called Don.
Me: Don?
The boy: Yeah, Don.

Ok...so he's chosen a random name and decided that it is suits him. Not a big deal, let's move on to other things.

Me: Ok, Don. You need a haircut. Do you want to go today?
Don: Yeah. Can they make me bald?
Me: Bald?
Don: Bald. But not bald all over. Just on top, with some hair left around the edges. Like Mr. Kinsiati at school.

Ok....we're pushing the boundaries of normal now. They were already kinda stretched out of shape, but every day we get a little closer to breaking them.

Wax on....wax off

hahahaha......omg......hahahaha

Public Service Announcement

Most people need 20 minutes of exposure to UVB rays daily in order for their bodies to maintain a healthy amount of vitamin D. Wearing sunscreen or clothes diminishes the body's ability to synthesize vitamin D from sunlight. A side effect of vitamin D deficiency is depression. So...the lesson here is that you need to stand around outside naked in order to be happy.

At Work

An example of how hard I work....

*phone ringing*
Me: This is Wendy.
Caller: Do you want half a brownie?
Me: Yes.
Caller: Ok, I'll bring it to you.

As you can tell, I have my priorities in order.