Three things to remember this Easter:
- Cardio.
- Double-Tap.
- Always have an exit.
Happy Zombie Holiday, everyone.
Later.
Three things to remember this Easter:
- Cardio.
- Double-Tap.
- Always have an exit.
Happy Zombie Holiday, everyone.
Later.
Remember me posting about the playoff beards?
There were a couple of guys here who were doing it, and as of today, I'm the only one left. (What a bunch of pussies - they didn't even make it to the end of the first round!)
So now I'm undecided - do I keep the beard, thus proving my point (and uber-manliness), or do I cave in and stop looking like a cross between Rick Astley and an older Sedin brother?
It's a difficult choice.
Later.
The past two days at home, as well as my first day back at work have been spent dealing with clutter. Sorting, removing, and puzzling its existence have kept me occupied for hours.
I tend to just get rid of stuff when I can, but for the past couple of weeks I decided that it's not my job to clean up everyone's shit, and I'll just let it go like they do - deciding that ignorance must be bliss.
It's not.
How people can stand to look at the disorganized mess, I'll never figure, and I think you do more work overall by walking around or just looking through the shit than you would have if it would have been dealt with correctly in the first place.
So now I'm cleaning it all up.
I read somewhere that Steve Jobs's first mansion only had a mattress and a lamp in it - very minimalist, very Zen.
Fuck that - he just hated clutter as much as I do.
Later.
The past two days at home, as well as my first day back at work have been spent dealing with clutter. Sorting, removing, and puzzling its existence have kept me occupied for hours.
I tend to just get rid of stuff when I can, but for the past couple of weeks I decided that it's not my job to clean up everyone's shit, and I'll just let it go like they do - deciding that ignorance must be bliss.
It's not.
How people can stand to look at the disorganized mess, I'll never figure, and I think you do more work overall by walking around or just looking through the shit than you would have if it would have been dealt with correctly in the first place.
So now I'm cleaning it all up.
I read somewhere that Steve Jobs's first mansion only had a mattress and a lamp in it - very minimalist, very Zen.
Fuck that - he just hated clutter as much as I do.
Later.
Today is a prefect example of the beatdown that the Clopen gives you.
I worked until 9-9:30ish last night, and after going home, winding down and having a snack, I'm asleep by around 11:30.
Now get up at 5, at the gym from 5:30 to 6:40 - busting my ass too none of that lazy workout for me - go home, shower, eat, get ready for work and be on time for 7:30, and you can see why I'm tired.
And since I usually blog on my phone during my lunch break, that means that today's is short - because I need a fucking nap.
Wish me sweet dreams.
Later.
So because the Canucks are in the Playoffs, at work all the guys have been given permission to grow a "Playoff Beard" if we want. (I'm guessing the girls were also allowed, but I can't see many joining in.)
And while I'm not a massive Canucks fan (they are the second favorite team - Go Avs!), I am a fan of the beard. Or at least the attempt - the jury is out on the beard itself.
It's been about 5 days now, and I'm getting mixed results. Oh, the beard is there, but the mixing is the fact that its brown, red, and gray, not the best color palette going.
But I'm going to stick with it, and see if it melds together in some sort of wonderful mess - kinda like a Jackson Pollack painting. Call it face art, if you will.
If I'm brave, I may post the finished product before shaving..just so people I don't really know can marvel at the wonder of my face..
Later.
I'm excited.
The Sidekick informs me that he's going to be working in the thriving metropolis south of the hometown for a month, and that means that he will be living minutes away instead of hours.
That's a great thing for a multitude of reasons, the least of which is that he brought up the subject of trying to do a weekly podcast for the duration of his time here. The thought, which used to scare the shit out of me, is rather intriguing. Why not do it? Hell, if you're already reading my shit, why not listen to it too? (And ask anyone, I'm way funnier in person.)
He's looking into it, and I'm tempted to give it a go.
What's the thought on podcasts? I admit, I listen to some, but is it something that most people do on a regular basis? I know if I asked most of the people I work with which podcasts they listen to, the biggest answer would be "What the fuck is a podcast?".
I think it will be a great learning experience..and I'm all about gettin mah learn on..
Later.
So today was my day at the local St. John's Ambulance to renew my first aid certificate for work. It had been years since I'd taken the course, but like riding a bike, it's not something you'll forget.
- Let me say this now - I believe that most first aid is common sense. If you use your head (and the tips the course gives you) you, and hopefully anyone you may have to apply first aid to, will be fine.
That being said, they completely "dumbed down" the course this year. After the first session started I, and some of the guys who work with me who had taken the course years ago, commented to our instructor that it seems they were glossing over or omitting some of the stuff from previous years.
- And I'm not talking minor stuff either - important things, like how to check for a pulse, the jaw lift method of opening the airway (if you suspect a broken neck), and dealing with a protruding bone or embedded object.
Sure, we covered how to get a speck of dust out of your eye, and how to properly fill out a first aid report (as mandated by Worksafe BC), but if you get injured around me and your femur is sticking out from your leg, I'll do my best to not make it worse, but you're probably fucked until someone better comes along.
It's kinda sad that they have had to aim for the lowest common denominator when providing these classes - I think it doesn't show a lot of faith in people and what they are capable of. If you want to ensure that a common individual has the basic skills, this course was great - but its supposed to be gearing towards being a first aid attendant or supervisor/manager...and that kinda scares me.
Luckily, (or unlucky, if you are the casualty) they teach you to just do your best, call for help, do what's necessary to save a life while protecting your own, and wait until someone more qualified than you comes along.
More qualified, you say? If karma is working and in your favor, you'll break that femur 10 feet from me and 30 from a hospital. (Otherwise your outlook isn't good.)
But have no fear- I aced the final exam - 20/20.
"I'm a First Aider, can I help you?"
Later.
The types of people who occupy my "News Feed" on Facebook.
- The "Inspirational Quoter" - forget a regular status update, I'll give you quotes from anyone I can think of, from Gandhi to Judas Priest to Mister Rogers.
- The "12-stepper" - Every post is "onward and upwards" and the glory of the little things in life. (As they see it, anyways.)
- The "Prego" - I get it - I understand the wonder of childbirth, and I know you do too, since it is your third kid - so quit posting "My Baby @ 3,4,however many weeks".
- The "Self Promoter" - started out like a regular person, now all updates are only about their home-based business..you know, the third one they've had this year..
- The "Sport Parent" - doesn't talk about themselves at all - every word is about whatever tournament, competition, or game their child or children are currently in. Weekends are especially painful, as you get constant updates on the score.
- The "Permanent Vacationer" - Always seems to be somewhere exotic or far away, either scaling mountains or swimming with dolphins. (Main issue with this one is containing my own jealousy.)
- The "Copy & Paster" - every update is a question or statement that they want you to reply to, followed by a request to copy and paste the same thing into your status - kinda like spam that's trying to be cute.
The - "Constant Updater" - Tells you everything that is happening moment by moment. From meals to tv shows to bathroom breaks, you are privy to it all.
- The "Die Hard" - Predicts their favorite team to win it all, relates national news to how their team is doing. " The Liberal Party's platform is almost as sad as the Hab's power play percentage."
And lastly:
- The "I spend too much time on Facebook-er." - Instead of bitching and commenting on your addiction, have you ever just thought of clicking the little red "x" in the corner amd walking away? Didn't think so.
Yes people, these are my friends, relatives, and acquaintances...
Wouldn't trade 'em for the world.
Later.
Just so you know, I'm at the risk of facing the Wife's vengeance by making the following statement:
As much as I appreciated the fresh-made waffles this morning, they are sitting like lead weight in my stomach, sucking the life and energy out of my day.
And that's sad - because I really like waffles.
Let's just keep the weight-ness of said waffles between us, ok? I would like to have them again, and she did go out of her way to make them for me..
Later.
Ahhh - the Clopen.
You know what I'm talking about - those days at work where you work the closing shift one night and open the next day? 'Round here we call it the "Clopen". (Sounds very cowboy-ish, but considering the area around here, it kinda makes sense.)
The thing that sucks about the Clopen is that it seems like you have been at work forever, especially if the people you are working with are Clopen-ers too. (And for those of you who are all "I love work! Feeling like I've been there for days is great!" - shut the fuck up and take your medication, you sick bastards.)
For me it's the fact that I don't see my kids for about 34 hours when I work a Clopen. I see them when they go to school in the morning, they are asleep when I get home, and I'm gone to work before they are up the next day. As much as I bitch about them, I do actually miss them during this time, and it also explains why they glom onto me during my days off. (Seriously, when do they start letting go of the leg?)
I find the Clopen especially difficult when I throw a gym workout in there too - pile on a 5am run or weights on your already trashed sleep schedule, and its easy to see why after a couple of Clopens, its easy to get a little "edgy".
( I use the term edgy because I don't know a short form of tired,irritable,bitchy,fed-up,sore,and cranky.)
Later.
- That me coming back from Days Off is very similar to Luke walking into that cave on Dagobah.
- That I wish I was fortunate enough to have a Lightsaber.
- That the warm of the tanning booth is what I imagine Tattooine to be like.
- That there's something to be said for clones - Hell, I have kids, they've got to be similar.
- That compared to some of the people I interact with every day, Jar Jar is a fucking genius.
- That no one has ever called me the "chosen one" - and I think they're missing out..
- That going into Toshi Station would be way better than hanging out here.
- That I'm jealous that my best friend's name isn't as cool sounding as "Biggs Darklighter".
- That unfortunately, much like Han, I sometimes shoot first.
Later.
Satellite Radio.
As much as I like the concept of uncensored, unfiltered, high quality music, I don't think I'm completely sold on the idea.
The reason I say that is because almost every person I know who has satellite radio only uses a couple of channels. That's it. Two, maybe three, channels out of the hundreds of offerings.
The Twin (who has satellite radio) exclusively listens to Howard Stern and Hair Nation. (Why yes, he is a child of the 80's, why would you ask?) His musical tastes haven't changed much since High School. Sure, he's aware of other music, but he doesn't like it much, nor does he give it much of a chance when he is exposed to it.
I blame the radio.
I'll admit - as much as you've heard me bitch on this very blog about the horrors of public radio, it does force you to listen outside your comfort zone and to experience other styles and genres. And that can't be a bad thing. (At least its better than still listening to Poison or Great White.)
Later.
A while ago, a new gym opened up in town.
I had heard about it, some of the people from my gym even decided to go there instead, but I was happy where I was and didn't think it was worth the extra $10 a month for a member ship. Really, a gym is a gym, right?
But then I went there today.
Holy Shit.
A guy I know gave me a free pass and said I should check it out. After hitting their treadmills, the ellipticals, and doing some weights on the machines, I have to say I'm impressed.
That gym makes mine look like I workout with hobos under the bridge instead of in an exercise facility. (it also made under the bridge seem cleaner than my regular gym.)
It's not that I'm impressed by the fancy lighting and tv's, I'm just impressed that everything is new and it works. (My gym has had a treadmill out of commission for six months). I'm also a fan of showers that work, friendly staff, and a kick-ass sauna.
It's a tough decision. I like my gym, the people there, and my love of the tanning booth is well documented on this site.
But the new gym is just so shiny....
I'll have to think about it.
Later.
A while ago, a new gym opened up in town.
I had heard about it, some of the people from my gym even decided to go there instead, but I was happy where I was and didn't think it was worth the extra $10 a month for a member ship. Really, a gym is a gym, right?
But then I went there today.
Holy Shit.
A guy I know gave me a free pass and said I should check it out. After hitting their treadmills, the ellipticals, and doing some weights on the machines, I have to say I'm impressed.
That gym makes mine look like I workout with hobos under the bridge instead of in an exercise facility. (it also made under the bridge seem cleaner than my regular gym.)
It's not that I'm impressed by the fancy lighting and tv's, I'm just impressed that everything is new and it works. (My gym has had a treadmill out of commission for six months). I'm also a fan of showers that work, friendly staff, and a kick-ass sauna.
It's a tough decision. I like my gym, the people there, and my love of the tanning booth is well documented on this site.
But the new gym is just so shiny....
I'll have to think about it.
Later.
Usually I'm all over April Fools Day.
Just the fact that there is a day devoted to pulling the wool over other peoples eyes warms the devious pit that is my heart.
And as most of the pranks or tricks are of the "good natured" variety, there's not even any guilt associated with anything you do. It's the ultimate win-win situation.
And I missed it.
It's not that I wasn't aware of the date - at work I have to write the date over and over again - its just that I had a total disconnect from the fact that yesterday wasn't just the first day of April, but also April Fools.
(And no one I worked with did any type of pranking at all, so it didn't even cross my radar.)
It wasn't until I got home last night and heard about different pranks online (my favorite is the "voice activated photocopier") that I even noticed.
So I'm a little disappointed.
But I'm hoping to make up for it - my kids don't know, but I'm hoping they understand the joke. ("Happy Late April Fools, Boys!")
Later.
Getting back to a regular sleep schedule has been a bitch.
With being on holidays, going to hockey games in Van, and some unintentional late nights recently, the youthful enthusiasm I had when springing out of bed at 5am is non-existent.
I find that I'm tired in the morning, and wide awake at night - so awake that I don't even notice my regular bedtime, and when I do, I have trouble falling asleep. I've had people tell me everything from no caffeine after 3pm to try "rubbing one out" . (There's no way I'm giving up coffee, but the other one sounds interesting...)
It's driving me a bit nutty and pissing me off - but I'm not going to lose any sleep over it.. (Ya see what I did there?)
So if you find that my rambling is less coherent than usual, you'll know why.
Later.
Holidays are over, and I'm back to work.
As much as I like the regular routine again, there's something to be said for not having to work. I got to spend a lot of time with my oldest boy, who's big wish over spring break was to watch all the Star Wars movies with me.
How does anyone say no to that?
So after being bombarded with Jedi vs Sith questions for six days (which I had all the answers for, thank you very much) I was reluctant to get back to the real world.
And if the prequels were as good as they should have been, I wouldn't want to come back at all..
But I'm here and I'll make the best of it - although it would be easier with a Lightsaber.
Later.
I'm not the youngster I used to be.
(I know, you're shocked, right?)
But even though I'm in better shape at 38 than when I was 28, there are some things that take me just a bit longer to recover from than they used to.
A Hockey Game in Vancouverwith the Sidekick, and the resulting beerfest is a great example.
Saw my Avalanche lose to the hometown boys Wednesday night, and I'm still feeling some of the effects.
I'm telling everyone that the problem is the fact that you can't sleep comfortably on the ferry on the way home - if BC Ferries would invest in some bedspace with comfy mattresses, I'd be well rested and feeling chipper.
I can hear your advice - "If you would just act your age and try not to drink like a 22 year old, you'd be fine." - but where's the fun in that?
At least I have the memories of the trip (fuzzy as they are) to console me during the arduous recovery process.
Yeah, its worth it.
Later.
Bumped into a person I know from Running last night.
We always talk races, training, nutrition, etc, whenever we see each other. It's great conversation, she's full of insight and wisdom, and its just great to chat with someone who is as passionate about running as I am.
So it was very disappointing for me to break it that I won't be running the Comox Half Marathon this year. It's on Sunday, and with being sick, problems with my foot (getting better!), and just the fact that I haven't run enough mean I would be setting myself up for failure.
I ran it the last 2 years - missing out on this race will suck. I know its the right thing to do, but it bugs the shit outta me that I'm not in it.
Luckily my Running friend put a positive spin on it - sure, I will miss out on the Half, but now I'll have a chance to get ready for the Merville 15k - and she doesn't think I can beat her.
The gauntlet has been thrown down - and I have to answer.
Now the Merville race can't get here fast enough.
Later.
I'm a list type of guy.
To-do lists are my bread and butter at work - being organized makes me look good, and helps me do my job better.
I do have one quirk when it comes to writing out my list:
- if I make any mistake - spelling, prioritization, or otherwise - when writing my list, I have to chuck the whole thing over and start again.
It may seem weird, but I just can't stand to see an imperfection on there - it drives me nuts. Sure, its a waste of paper - but I live in a town whose (former) main export was pulp and paper, so I've been trained for years that we can always just cut another tree down, go ahead and chuck away.
Even if we were still writing on pelts, I'd be the guy who wastes 3 cats just getting his list perfect.
But once its written, it's gold - and since getting it done makes me look like a hero, why mess with success?
Just be grateful that blog writing wasn't all paper based - the amount I stop and restart each post, I would be personally responsible for most of the Amazon deforestation.
Later.
It's amazing how much of a difference an hour makes.
Subtract an hour (or even two) from my sleep any other time of year and I shrug it off and continue on with life. (Usually these subtractions are related to kids or the bar - either one.)
But if you TELL me I have to move my clock ahead, and forcibly rip that hour from me, I feel like a bag of shit.
Daylight Savings was partially Ben Franklin's idea - why do we even listen to a guy who's famous for flying a kite in an electrical storm?
Whoever made that call was suffering from lack of sleep already.
Later.
WARNING: The following will make me sound reeeeally old. If your mental picture of me involves youth and vitality, stop reading now.
So after picking up the boys from school, we're on the drive downtown when #1 son asks me a question about movies. (I encourage an open dialogue with my kids -especially in the entertainment category.)
"Daddy, what movie did you like to watch over and over again when you were my age?"
Simple question, right? If I would have thought about it, I would have just said "Star Wars" and been done with it.
But nooooo. I have to explain to both of them that when I was their age, you couldn't just watch a movie over and over at your house whenever you wanted.
"But why not, Daddy?"
So I explain that when I was eight, there was no Internet, so we couldn't download a movie; no rack of DVDs because a) there were no DVDs and b) VHS tapes were like $60 a pop and you had to rent the player because they were to expensive to own; and we only had 12 channels, movies were only on Sunday nights and you didn't get to pick what it was.
The sheer look of horror on their faces was astounding - you think I had just told them I grew up before fire was invented.
They couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that there were limited entertainment choices and that if you didn't like what was on, you were out of luck. (Come on, you think I watched Return to Witch Mountain by choice?)
To them, I must have lived in an entertainment wasteland.
I love the fact that I can watch what I want, when I want to - but there's something to be said for the days of racing home to be ready for when the movie starts, needing a electrical engineering diploma to hook up a VCR and a virginal sacrifice to set up and record a program.
We appreciated it more, dammit!
I think I'll start the "Walked uphill to school both ways" conversation next week...
Later.
Remember that TV show, Heroes?
Do you recall that there were characters other than the cheerleader? (I know, I was shocked too.)
Well there was the one guy, he had the power to stop time - pause, wait, start again.. On my list of superpowers to wish for, it doesn't rate that high. (Pause, Rewind, and Start Over - that's the cool one - I like my superpowers like I like my Tivo.)
However, on days like today, it would be the most bitchin' power going - I'd stop time, take a sweet fucking nap, and BAM! - right back to work again. Sure, the day would be a lot longer for me, but throw a couple naps in there, and who cares?
Sounds sweet, right?
I thought so.
Later.
I used to look forward to casual days at work.
Lately, not so much.
The main reason? Lulemon pants.
Back when all the girls wore frumpy, baggy, dress slacks to work, casual Friday was a welcome relief for the eyes. Jeans that hugged, cleavage, -it was a wonderful day all around.
Not that it still isn't great, but after looking at black, form-fitting pants that gently caress the curves and make almost every ass look like a Supermodel's it tough to just look at a regular pair of jeans the same way again.
I guess I'll just have to suffer through it.
(Waits for all the comments from guys who work in male-dominated areas, bitching that I'm complaining about looking at ass when all they can see is hairy man-crack.)
Life's tough, my friends.
Later.
I know I've talked before about my lack of motivation when I comes to my days off and doing shit around the house.
But I've hit a different kind of wall.
If you're a regular reader of my Twitter feed, you will notice something has been missing lately. (The first person who says "Yeah, funny shit." Gets shot.) Those updates every time I run? The ones with how far, how long, and when? Yeah - there haven't been any of those for a week or so.
Part of the reason was an injury to my foot, which isn't horrible, but rest and not pushing it are essential. The other is that I've had a chest cold for a week, and the thought of running through a chest full of phlem isn't appealing at all.
What I should be doing is maintaining my diet, hitting the weights at the gym instead of running, and get back to it a.s.a.p.
Problem is, that's not happening. I'm finding it amazingly hard just to get ny ass outta bed in the morning - the combination of wanting to sleep as well as not wanting to freeze my sack off scraping the car have me hobbled.
Last year, I didn't experience this at all - there was no doubt that I'd be at the gym or on the road running each morning. And the fact that I KNOW there's a difference really bothers me.
As Austin Powers said, "I've got to find my mojo, baby."
I'm just not sure how i'm going to do it.
Later.
It's an awkward moment, telling someone you have a blog.
There's that moment that hangs in the air -where you wonder if the response will be interest or confusion. Most people my age (around here, anyway) don't seem to grasp the concept.
Needless to say, I usually keep a tight lid on the fact that I write here. I reveal it only to people I know for sure will "get it", and only let them know the address if they ask.
It's not embarrassment of what I write, or the fact that someone known to me will read my rants and rambling. It's more of a pain explaining *why* I'd want to write something that "just anyone" can read.
And that reason is a post in itself.
Later.
Why is anyone really surprised about what Charlie Sheen is doing, or how he's behaving?
We've lauded him for such actions (on screen, at least) for years.
His filmography reads like a testimonial to womanizing, sex-addicted, hard living douchebags. From Bud Fox to Charlie Crawford to Charlie Harper, they all drank, chased women, and openly displayed their vices.
Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe Charlie wasn't acting?
Part of me wants to be the publicly aware Dad that I am and say "That Charlie, so irresponsible." The other part of me is kinda envious about the partying and Porn Stars. (Do ya blame me? I'm a guy, for chissakes- anyone with a dick is lying if they say they don't feel even slightly the same way.)
I think that the media attention that's being given to Charlie is way out of proportion, considering what else is happening in the world, and I'm sure that he feels the same way. But people are watching Charlie Sheen for the same reason they watch Nascar - they are waiting for the crash.
I, for one, hope he makes it out ok. I'm sure he'll eventually get tired of the jet-setting and all the sex, and things will settle down for 'ol Charlie. (Hahaha - ya, I don't think so either.)
Stay the course, Mr. Sheen, you're living the dream for any man over 35. Your midlife crisis is inspiration to us all.
Later.
Ask anyone, and they'll tell you I'm a talker.
However, there is a guy I work with who puts me to shame - it's unbelievable.
I'm the type of talker who kind of stays on track with the conversation - sure, it'll flow from topic to topic, but it's all related - I can look at how the conversation started to how it ended up.
This guy roams around so much in a conversation that you can start talking about how icy the roads were, and the next thing you know, you're discussing the foot speed of the average Kenyan.
As interesting as it is, it can be very frustrating to try and get him to stay on topic - God forbid I need to get actual information from him - I want to know what supplies he wants and you end up discussing the latest possibility of a manned mission to Mars.
I sometimes want to just stop him and point out what he's doing, but that would be a 3-hour conversation in itself.
If I ever get that bad, just gag me.
But gently, okay? I might want to discuss the latest episode of Archer..
Later.
Walked into work today to a Murphy's Law situation.
If it wasn't already fucked or messed up, it soon would be - it made me feel like I'd committed so heinous crime in a former life, and God just decided to fuck with me all at once.
There's not really much point in moaning about it - but hey, I've got this space - why not use it?
Later.
I've got to admit, Buckley's doesn't pull any punches.
That stuff winds up and puts it's burning, vile tasting, mentholated fist right through your head. It forcibly removes what's ailing you like the Lybian government removes protesters. (Ok, bad example, I'll admit.)
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
Unlike other people that I know, I actually medicate myself when I'm sick - I take shit that gets it over with as quick as possible, so I can get back to doing the things people do when they are not sick. (You know, like life?)
Just laying around and hoping you will eventually feel better is like rolling over during a fight and hoping the guy will stop hitting you when his arms get tired.
So I take the short term pain (Buckley's) for the long term gain (Not feeling like shit).
It's working so far.
Now excuse me while I take my dose of nasty, nasty, tasting stuff.
Later.
I'm not the most organized guy in the world, but I'm better than most.
Which is why certain things at work drive me completely fucking nuts.
In my job, it pays to be organized - product in, product out, rotation - and the fact that you have multiple people working in the same area means that everyone has to do their part to keep it neat.
And one or two people being sloppy can make my day go from great to shitty in a half second.
It's not that hard - there is a place for everything - just put it where it fucking goes. (Not as elegant as "..and everything in its place.", but you get my meaning..)
I don't want to be "that" guy - the one who rages when one item is out of place - but its getting close. I think the next person I see just putting stuff away sloppily will experience wrath that will make Kahn's look like a Care Bear reunion.
Later.
My first day off is usually a write-off.
It's not that I don't want to accomplish anything - believe me, my ambition in the hours leading up to my days off is astounding. I have plans to clean the house, do enough laundry to get through the year, balance the budget, cure cancer, and possibly run a 20-miler - and all that before the kids are out of school.
But somehow, it just never seems to work out that way.
I'm probably going to blame it on tasty coffee and the Internet. I'd have to say that those two distractions are what eat up most of my time. And podcasts - sweet,sweet, podcasts.
Hence the fact that my second day off is usually just a catch up day - the house is cleaned, the laundry done, and I'll usually get 7-10 miles in. I guess the balancing and disease curing will have to wait until I'm on holidays.
Sure, that'll work.
Later.
I'm lucky enough to have a job where I get to meet and talk to a wide variety of people. I enjoy most of the customers who come in, and get along with the majority of my co-workers.
There are the ones that you can talk more freely with, or have some sort of personal connection or shared interests, and talking with them always makes the night fly by.
Tonight is not one of those nights.
There's just no one interesting working - I can choose between talking quilting with one, how fascinating and dreamy another's boyfriend is, listen to the spazy guy talk about his "girlfriend" (pretty sure its his right hand) and the one other person working says maybe 3 non-work related words a month.
I personally believe this will be the longest night ever.
Wake me when it's over.
Later.
Dear Mr. Homeless Man:
I do not know how you came to be in your current situation - drugs, misfortune, the CIA, whatever - and I don't really care.
What I do know is that continually asking me for change while I'm waiting for the bus in Vancouver does not endear me towards your plight.
Frankly, your strategy of asking for a quarter, being denied, and then asking for a dime and a quarter is baffling. I'm not sure of your profession before you decided to take up the homeless "gig" - but I suspect it was as a unsuccessful hostage negotiator.
I do admire your perseverance, though, and if you put as much effort into 8 hours at a actual job vs 18 hours of begging, you just might get ahead in the world.
I understand you're "off the grid" , and "living free", so the chances of you stumbling across this piece of digital advice are very slim, but if you do, please take it to heart.
Clean up, get a job, and stop being such an annoying dick to random strangers on the street.
Later.
P.s. - I stuck a quarter in my piece of gum and put it under the bench - pretend it's buried treasure!

I don't regret much when it comes to the world of pop-culture.I hate dealing with sick people.
Not mentally, sick - Hell, where I work, they're all a little twisted.
I'm talking about those people who treat a sore throat and sniffles like it's H1N1 - like the world is ending because their sinus headache won't go away.
Those people I want to stab with a pencil and put them out of their misery.
'Cause really, that's all you can do - they are useless to be around, don't accomplish anything, and the bitching and moaning are almost too much to handle.
The thing is, if they would just suck it up a bit, then they would probably end up feeling better - but no - bitching is waaaay more fun.
It's gunna be a loooong night.
Later.
Yesterday I switched my TV service over to Telus. I did the whole "Bundle" thing with the Home phone, TV, and Internet. (It's what all the cool kids are doing.) Since I already had Phone and Internet with Telus, throwing the TV package in there just seemed like a good idea.
So I'm watching AMC's The Walking Dead.
I've set my PVR, double-checked the time slot, and if worse comes to worst, I'm ready to download the multitude of torrents I know will be up the next day.
The image to the right has me conflicted in so many ways.

A while ago, the book Little Brother was suggested to me.




For being cheerful and fun while I was there. Keep this up, and that "No Fun City" label will disappear fast.


Forgive me if I ramble - I'm a little distraught.