Odiferous Prostitute.

Today was a clean-and-organize day.

 About as much fun as you'd think.

I'm not going to lie and tell you that my house is now indexed and cataloged like an OCD librarian's lingerie drawer - it's not even close. But I did make an dent in the list of things to be done.

I took care of the bathrooms.


Exciting, eh?

Before I got down to the scrubbiness, I started rearranging my section of the medicine cabinet, and that's when one thing became abundantly clear:

I'm a cologne whore.

To be fair, I like smelling good. Working with the public for as long as I have has taught me that if you are going to be in close proximity to other people throughout any part of your day, it's your obligation to make sure you don't smell like a rancid goat. (If you work with rancid goats, my apologies and please disregard the previous statement.) I've encountered staff and customers who smelled worse than I would if I'd ran a marathon in +45 degree weather (104 Fahrenheit, for my American readers) with a half a cabbage under each armpit. I'm sure that's a recipe for some type of Eastern-European soup or something. (I'm sure my pits would be more effective than some crock pots.)

So let's just say personal odor is important to me.

I guess I just never noticed how much.

Smellin' like a sexy athlete in just two sprays.

Is seventeen bottles excessive? Is that over the acceptable level?

Just for clarity, I don't wear them all at once.

I have some standards scents that I wear more than others, but I do follow a loose rotation so I don't run out of my favorites (I don't have a chart up or anything, I'm not that obsessive). Most days I just grab a bottle, take a wiff, and go with what appeals to me.

It wasn't until I got them all together that it hit me how many there were. It looks like I could go into a department store and sell them stuff.

I think I should try a different one each day and see if anyone really comments.

Customer: "Hey, weren't you working here yesterday?"
Me: "Yes, I was."
Customer: "How come yesterday you smelled like an ocean breeze with a hint of vanilla and citrus, and today you smell like sandalwood and musk?"
Me: "Ummm..."

I'm not sure, though - isn't the point of cologne be that you don't really notice it?

Doesn't matter - all those bottles sure look pretty all lined up in a row.

Remember - if you come across a guy in the Grocery store who smells like perfection and talks like an angel, it's only me.







Later.

Write Off.

Possibly more energetic than I was today.

Today is a write off.

Sure, I got up at 7am with the Wife when she went to work, and I even did a workout with some of the stuff I got for Christmas. Coffee was involved too.

After that, the day went downhill.

You know those people who spend January 1st taking down all the Christmas Decorations, reorganizing the house, and getting everything straightened away to start the New Year?

Yeah - not me, not today.

The Boys and I played some games that they got for Christmas (I have the steady hand for Operation), but it was pretty much just a do-what-ya-like kinda day. Books were read, hockey was played, and I was even tempted to take a nap while they were watching a movie. (I may or may not have dozed off for a couple of minutes - it's all kinda fuzzy.)

It's not like we were up terribly late for New Years - pretty sure we hit the sack by 1am at the latest - but I'm just bagged today. Seeing people doing inspired work like this makes me feel incredibly lazy, and I have sworn that tomorrow is going to be Accomplishment Day - believe me, shit will get done.

 I'm off to watch a movie now, and then possibly hit the sack.

All this doing nothing has me feeling sleepy.






Later.

Of Rice & Men.

This is what the fuss is about?

I'm not much of a chef (outside of Bar-B-Que season) but I'd like to try making Risotto.

The Wife watches a lot of cooking shows (Top Chef, Iron Chef, Chopped, The Next Food Network something) and if there's one thing I've picked up in my moments of half-watching these shows while on the laptop, it's that risotto is either the most difficult dish ever created or so fucking easy that if you mess it up it shows everyone else in existence that it was foolish to let you play near the stove.

I'm having a hard time figuring it out.

See, On Hell's Kitchen when some poor schmoe brings Gorden Ramsey a risotto that is anything less than perfect he reacts like you kicked him in the balls and called his mother a slut. He berates and belittles the offending chef so much about fucking up the risotto that it's like me getting mad at the Kids for improperly wiping their ass.

Me: "How do you mess up wiping your ass?!? What were you thinking?"
Kid: "I did my best Dad - I really tried!"
Me: "So then why is it all over the wall? Let's get your brother in here and see if he can do better!"

However, when you;re watching some competitive cooking show like Chopped or Top Chef, and some guy attempts to make risotto in under 30 minutes, other contestants who are in the cooking business themselves shake their heads at this maverick genius for even attempting it, and award him(or her) mad props if they pull it off.

So like I said - it's either easy-peasy simple or harder than I could possibly imagine.

So what's it gunna be, Risotto?
You and me, man-o et rice-o, at the flagpole stove after school?

I'll kick your ass.






Later

Change it Up.

Since my foot is still an issue, I've switched from Running to Biking in an effort to get my cardio fix in - it's not too bad, but there are some differences I've noticed:

1. It's easier on the feet, but tougher on the balls.
2. As a runner, it seems to me that cars tend to give you a wide berth - on a bike, it's like cars fucking hate you.
3. The plus with riding a bike is that the breeze cools you off - the downside would be the sweat gushing out of every pore the minute I stop.
4. I don't know about you, but I don't have to wear a helmet when I run, so getting used to that is going to be a bitch. (If you do wear a helmet while you run, I suggest you join a different running club - you may have inadvertently signed up for the Special Olympics.)
5. Going downhill on a bike? Waaaaay fucking easier on your quads.
6. I think I'm going to need gloves as the grips on the bike are hurting my palms - and I really need those. (I gotta take care of what takes care of me, right?)
7. It's hard to appreciate female bikers like female runners. Same amount of spandex, but the women on bikes are all hunched over..
8. Did I mention it hurts my balls? 

No matter the differences, I kind of like the change - and even when my foot feels better and I can start logging miles again, it's still going to be part of my routine.

I'll just make sure to take the helmet off if I'm riding the bike in the gym.




Later.

Man of Many Marinades.

With the summer season in full swing, I've gone to almost exclusively cooking outdoors every chance I get.

I'm a huge fan of marinades, and use them as much as I can. I like to prepare stuff in advance, so being able to whip together a marinade for whatever's hitting the grill the next night is a bonus. I've also found that having the meat sit in the marinade overnight in the chill-chest helps tenderize and add even more flavor throughout.

Do I follow a recipe? Not really - I treat marinades like I treat sex - some experimentation, throw in whatever you can, mix it up, and always check for flavor. Although I do use some standard ingredients, I can vary some of the complimentary flavors depending if I want heat or sweetness - or just go with ones that accentuate the flavor of whatever we're having.

Just typing that made me hungry - and it's almost time to fire up the grill..Mmmm


Later.

Stand Alone Dad.

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Swineful Behavior.

No, this isn't about swine flu - it's about me being a pig.

Sure, I got up and went to the gym today. Lifted weights, ran for a half hour, tanned - but then six hours later, I blow it all.

For some strange reason, I just demolished:

• A Peanut Butter sandwich
  
• Two sticks of pepperoni
• Chocolate Muffin
• Glass of Chocolate Milk

And that was after my lunch and hour ago - in which I had a healthy, fulfilling sandwich. (Mmm Turkey.) I think I know the culprit: boredom.

It's not that I'm bored, really - I'm hanging with my two Boys, so nothing is really boring. It's just that with the rain and wind we're inside - and even playing with them, there's some downtime, and they eat some snacks, and there's all this shitty food laying around, so...

I do it to myself.

It's easier when I can take them out and do something with them - it keeps me busy as well, and not being around all the shitty food is a plus.

But now I'm feeling guilty, and have already begun to plan my "revenge" workout for tomorrow in my head.

Yes, I know - I need help.

Don't worry about the binging - it's when I start purging that you can call in the shrinks...



Later.

Watch Out, Gary Carter...

There's a new kid in town.

That's The Boy and I at his T-Ball game. He's really liking it so far, and his favorite position is catcher. (Why a catcher in a t-ball game? Someone has to put the ball on the tee, and this is better than him laying down in right field and not paying attention.)

He's has 4 hits, one run, and one outfield catch. He's all over this game as oppossed to Soccer, where he ran around for 45 minutes and didn't feel like he accomplished anything. (It might have something to do with the T-Ball championship I won at his age - must be in the blood.)

The thing I like the most is that the games are Monday and Wednesday evenings - so I , a guy who works most weekends, can actually go. It's even been suggested that I help coach, (I dare say I'd be better than the sham of a coach that they have now.) but we'll take it one step at a time.

I know that most of you probably looked at the title and went "Gary Carter? Wasn't he Arnold on Different Strokes?". And you'd be wrong, 'cause that's Gary Coleman - Gary Carter was the only cool batcatcher to play for a Canadian team when I was growing up.

At least until my boy hits the Majors.....




Later.

In Between Goals.

I'm kinda lost.

Having finished my Half Marathon and winning the weight loss contest I was in, I'm all out of goals. I know, I know - most intelligent people would have planned for what they were going to do after achieving their goals, but if you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you'll understand I don't really operate that way.

So what is it that I want to do?

My next big run is in October, so the training for that is out - but I think I'll keep doing the mileage - I don't want to stop that. Running 20-25 miles a week should keep me where I want to be.

I do still have that last 6 pounds to go, and I did get all this weight loss stuff in my prize package, so - I think with a slight change in my weight routine, I'll be pretty good to go. Maybe I can get my BF% down to 16-17%.

I think this year, I'm going to get a tan. I have the fake 'n bake passes, (yet another prize) and with running outside when it gets warmer, maybe nature can help with the rest. It would be nice not to be translucent for at least one summer.


Well look at that - I've got some goals.

Thanks, Internet - what would I do without you?




Later.

Rumors of My Demise...

.. have been greatly exaggerated.

With the Twin's family up for the Nephew's Hockey tourney, the last couple of days have been really hectic - hence no blogging. Having two extra kids in a house the size of mine is enough to throw anything off kilter, and being able to coherently form thoughts wasn't part of the bargain.

But I can tell you some things I've learned:

• I miss the extra padding my lard ass used to have - sitting in the stands at the Arena would have been warmer and more pleasant with a few extra pounds of padding back there.
• Tim Horton's Roll Up The Rim is a piece of shit. I haven't won a damn thing since it started this time, and that's just not right for a guy that drinks as much as I do. When's my time Lord? When's my time?
• I am pretty much the greatest Rock Band vocalist ever. I may not sound good to me or anyone else, but that game thinks I'm fucking amazing. 96-100% on almost every song? God, I'm good.
• If the weather in Courtenay is as shitty next Sunday as it was in Campbell River today, I'm going to be one wet Half-Marathoner. The fact that it's less than a week away now kinda freaks me out.
• The more I see one, the more I want an iPhone.
• As much as I was dreading the weekend, tomorrow's going to be just as bad - I have to do my last long run (10+ miles) , weigh in for the final of the weight-loss contest I joined, and get the Boy to school on time - then my day can start. (It'll only be 8:30am then.)

I'm going to get some sleep - but don't worry, you'll hear from me.



Later.

Giving Up The Game.

I have to stop playing NHL 09.

Not by choice, mind you.

You see, the copy I have isn't really mine - it's the Sidekick's, and I've just been using it while he was away from his Xbox. Now that he is situated in The Big City, I have to give it back.

And therein lies my problem.

At first it wasn't a big deal, as I'd received a Futureshop gift card for Christmas, and was planning on getting the game with that when I returned the Sidekick's copy. (No problem, right?)

But then I spent the gift card on DVD's. Some in January, and the rest just the other day.
( I got this sweet deal on The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen & Ghostbusters 1&2 - how do you pass that up?)

So now I will be without my Hockey fix until Payday. And that seems like an eternity away.

You have to understand, this is a game that I play religiously. Every day, at least once. It's addictive. Giving this up cold turkey will be harder than quitting smoking and masturbating at the same time. (Impossible, right?)

So wish me luck.

I'm gonna need it.



Later.

Plateau.

I've hit a wall.

In regards to my weight loss, that is. (Please don't think I've injured myself or anything.)

With my training right now, I'm running anywhere from 24-30 miles a week. You'd think that with all that exercise, I'd just be shedding the pounds, right?

Not so.

I've been the same weight for the last two weeks - not even a pound difference.

Granted, it's been the two weeks with Valentine's, (Shitty food) company over, (Shitty food) and a couple of family birthdays/ outings thrown in. (Shitty food and beer)

So I think tomorrow will be my start back to the goodness that is Healthy Choices in what I eat.

I have 35 days until my half marathon, and only 28 until the weight-loss competition I'm in finishes. The only hiccup I'm going to allow is for when I'm in Vancouver with the Sidekick - next to that, it's the Good Life for me.

If I've been eating like shit and had no change, imagine what I'm going to look like with the glorious combination that is diet & exercise.


I"ll be off that plateau yet - mark my words.




Later.

They Grow Up Fast.

I just had "The Talk" with the Boy.

Not that talk - (he's only six), but the Boyfriend/Girlfriend talk.

There's this girl that he plays with at school all the time - they are always together. I used to bug him and call her his Girlfriend, at which point he'd get mad until I said "Friend who's a girl" - he took that shit pretty seriously.

So we're cleaning out the garage today ( yay Domestic Chores) - after I had just picked him up from a playdate at her house. (When I got there they were playing Wii together - is that something I should be worried about?) I asked the Boy how his Girlfriend was - expecting the same reaction as usual. Instead, he says "Daddy, you aren't supposed to find out." When I ask him what it is I'm not supposed to know, he tells me this:

At school they are best friends, but away from school they are Boyfriend /Girlfriend. (It's a big secret.)

(Just proof of how young the Boy really is: When asked what it was I'm not supposed to know, he immediately tells me. They only do that at this age - eventually I'll have to be more circumspect in my questioning.)

I asked him what it is that Boyfriends/Girlfriends do. Do they kiss? Hold hands? (It's been 30 years since I was six..) Much to my relief, he told me that they don't do any of that stuff, it's just like at school but they call themselves Boyfriend/Girlfriend.

Thank God that's it.

I'm sure I'll eventually have to have the Big Talk with him, but I hope it's still at least 6 or 7 years off. (I'll cover that shit early with him, so he doesn't pick up some dumb information off the street.)

For now he can keep his secret - (he asked me not to tell his Mother) so I'll just keep it on the down low. - I don't want her to think she's raising a Man-Whore.


They do grow up fast.





Later.

Holiday Overload.

I'm ready to go back to work.

Back to my routine, back to the gym, back to my eating habits, back to not having 3 beer at the drop of a hat.

Even though I've only been off two days, I haven't been to the gym in four - what with the weather and the @$#%! Holidays - and I feel like shit. I'm just not used to all this decadence anymore.

So going to the Gym tomorrow, logging some miles and working the late shift will only help me get back to myself.

My Half-Marathon is only twelve weeks away - so my official training begins Sunday. I'm going to allow for the Hiccup that will be New Years, but after that it's lean 'n mean until the 22nd of March. (The Gym is probably having a "Biggest Loser " Contest at the same time, and who can't afford to lose another 15 pounds along the way, right?)


Time to get my nose back to the Grindstone.





Later.

Vertical SleepIng Chambers.

In an effort of improve space and reorganize, we bought the Kids Bunk Beds for their birthdays.

It serves the purpose of freeing up a room to put all the toys into so that they stay out of the other living areas of the house.

(If anyone has inadvertently stepped on Lego while barefoot, you feel my pain.)

The Boys love it, and wouldn't stay off it all day.

Right now, however, they aren't asleep - instead they're chatting and generally keeping each other awake. I just had to go in and "remind" them that they should have been asleep over two hours ago - if this goes on much longer I'll have to separate them the first night.

They'll come around though - and I bet it's less than a week before I post about one of them hurting themselves jumping off the top bunk. Guaranteed. (Call it Daddy's Intuition.)


Later.

Survival Package.

Here's a tip:

The most important piece of equipment to bring on your child's School Field Trip to the Museum isn't a First Aid kit or a Cellphone.

It's a Hip Flask.

Although parts of the museum were interesting, there were certain areas where liberal doses from the flask would have helped. Namely:

1. The Puppet show.
2. Craft Centre.
3. The crazy Old Lady who pretended to be a girl from the 1800s.

I'm pretty sure Granny in the log cabin was hitting the flask pretty hard before we even got there. She was either incredibly cheerful or slightly drunk. Having to deal with that after watching a puppet show in a theater full of screaming children was where my need for the flask came in. Watching puppets describe a partial shipwreck off Quadra Island in 1927 isn't the most stimulating thing for a 36 year old man. My 5 year old? Thought it was incredibly realistic.

Craft Centre was a gong show. Don't they know that giving almost every child a glue stick is asking for trouble? Whoever arranged that debacle should rethink their plans next time.

A couple of nips from the flask would have helped on the bus ride home too - it would have made that game of "I Spy" go much faster.

Next field trip I'm leaving the Swiss Army Knife at home and reaching for the Hip Flask - I'll be prepared for sure.




Later.

RRoD'd.

Today the unthinkable happened.

You hear about it happening to other people, but you never think it will happen to you. "Other guy's equipment may be faulty, but mine runs like clockwork." you think - unaware that karma is waiting around the corner, ready to kick you in the balls.

Today I got the Red Ring of Death.

(Not to be confused with the Burnin' Ring of Fire, which I got from the chili I ate the other night.)

So what does that mean? I have to pack up my XBox and send it away. They'll either send me a refurbished one, or mine once it's been repaired. Either way, I hope it comes back with a big set of tits working properly.

I'm going to miss it while it's gone. I think I'll be at a loss as to what to do.

Online Poker? Maybe.
Read a Book? I don't know.
Hold my functionless controller, stare at a blank TV screen and cry while I rock back and forth?

Probably.



Later.

Fall Back.

Guess what I forgot to do?

That's right - I totally forgot about Daylight Savings. (Thankfully I forgot in the fall, when it means I'm early instead of late.) I bounded out of bed ready to go to the gym, and instead had to wait around for an hour before it opened. By that time the kids were up and then there was no chance to leave.

Ergo, I didn't go to the gym today.
(Don't you feel bad for me?)

It's good to take this day of rest, enjoy the (kinda) extra hour I did get, and get back to the routine tomorrow.

Does that mean it'll be dark at 3pm now? Thank God for my white legs - I won't be hit by a car while I'm running.




Later.

Roll In The Hay.

Today was The Boy's class visit to the local pumpkin patch/farm.

When my wife mentioned it to me last week, I laughed - "Have fun with 25 screaming kids & the farm animals in the mud." The smile vanished from my face when she told me it was on my day off, and since she's working, I got the pleasure of the farm animals. (I know that sounds dirty, but it's not.)

With our boots and gloves on, The Boy and I boarded the School Bus for the drive to the farm. On the way I noticed there was only one other Dad, and he was being hen-pecked by his wife, who was also along. Since the kids were entertaining themselves, the honor fell to me to entertain all the Mommys. ( It ain't easy being me.)

The hay ride was probably the best part, although being chased by a flock of sheep (that's what it's called, ask Wikipedia) hell-bent on catching the wagon and feasting on it's hay-ee goodness isn't as exciting as I make it out to be. The kids enjoyed the hay-bale maze the most - being able to see over two bales high kind of ruins it for all the adults.

I enjoyed the visit though, and The Boy had a blast - he's already talking about going back next year - I think when your 5, being in a place that's mostly dirt and mud is like being in a place that's all coffee and porn when you're 36. It may be dirty, but it's a hell of a lot of fun.


Speaking of which, when's Daddy's field trip? That's what I want to know.




Later.

Back To The Grind.

Tomorrow is my first day back from holidays.

I'm almost looking forward to it.

You see, I've discovered that I'm a creature of routine - I sleep, go to the gym, work, run, and poop. (I do many exciting things as well, but that's pretty much the basis of my existence.) When you take 8+ hours a day out of that routine - things start to fall apart.

Such as:

• My Diet - I've been eating like shit on these holidays. Sure, I've been going to the gym, but without the regular lifting and moving that my job requires, I'm just not doing enough to justify the calories. (I'd still like to drop about 10 pounds before the 8K in Vic, and that's only 42 days away.)
  
• My Motivation - When there's no time frame for things to be done, I'm in no rush to do them. I run in the mornings because I have to - after work is tied up with the kids and such - but if I can run anytime, the urgency to do it is gone, and I either skip it, or do it half-assed.
• My Sleep - Normally I can't nap in the middle of the day, (God, I miss the couch in Oyster River) so I just keep moving and burning my energy up. I napped at least an hour for each of the last three days, and it kept me up later each night. My sleep cycle is going to be a bitch to get straightened out.
• My Brain - I need the interaction that work gives me. Spending time with my kids is great, but talking to other people is where I get my spark - my humor and wit. The Boys understand that farting is funny, but they don't get sarcasm yet, and I'm not allowed to tell them any blowjob jokes. Even my thought process for the blog has been affected. I've blogged more on holidays when I wasn't even in town.

So breaking this evil cycle will be a good thing. I know going back to work will still be semi- shitty, but just getting back to the routine will be a welcome relief.

But I'm saying that now - tomorrow may be a different story.





Later.