You can pick your friends, and you can pick your proteins, but you shouldn't pick your friend's protein..... something like that.... whatever.

 

Sun's not up yet, kid's not sleeping in the next room, coffee's 2.75 hours old.

Let's drive it like it's someone else's rental.

Thought I'd mix it up a bit.   how'd I do?   

True story about the coffee,  tho'.   

Wedding's in a week, and we may or may not still be getting a kilt in the mail in time.  Besides that.... sound as a pound.   

Honestly - once you pick the spouse, everything else is gravy.

or should I say:  Everything else is the cooked fat and 'juice' from an animal, mixed with flour and starch?

"what the hell?"   you ask.     

read on.   duh.

We were at sup last night (no, this is not a trick to get you to ask "what's sup?"), when our very polite, slightly nervous waitperson asked my fiance to "pick your protein".

Damn.  I'm drooling now, just thinking about it.

hmmm.... I think i'll go with the dead pig today, steeped in the by product of burning wood, I think.   and Could I get a side of starch fried in fat, please?   Maybe some fiber with a little spiced vegetable based condiment on it?    What's that?  oh, yes.  Definitely cover it in dairy-based melted goodness.

Thank God it wasn't breakfast.   Don't even want to try to make up the conversation involving eggs.

Words are amazing things.  

Used with a modicum of effort, they can paint any kind of picture the user, the artist, wishes.   Make a couple good word choices and.... viola. 

Don't bother at all and....   that's what's brought us together, today.

And context.   Fuck.  Context is HUGE.

In this case, we were at a restaurant that already had one strike from a previous visit. 

And last night's "We've a new menu!"  turned out to be simply less of the old menu. 

 

"Well, maybe the waitstaff can recommend something......"

yep.   He recommended we "pick a protein".     Way to sell it, dude.

Was Soylent Green, a protein source?

"It's...PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!"

You'll be shocked to know that, when approaching food from that angle, you ended up getting a plate of food that tastes like what you'd get when you "pick a protein".

Could we get a vegetable-based recyclable containing unit please?  maybe my domesticated Canine Lupus Familiaris would like to ingest this.....

  

Poisoning my dog on purpose, and the delight of exhausting inactivity. Oh, and my kid keeps growing up....

Kid's still asleep, I've a full cup of rather odd tasting coffee, the dog's made the grueling trek from bed to chair next to me... 

let's drive it like it's stolen.

Good morning, fellow travelers. 

So, I poisoned my dog, earlier this week. 

On purpose.

She was insolent…..

Nah.  That’s the scientific way to kill heart worms.

See you poison the dog juuuuust enough to kill the worms, whilst hoping NOT to kill the dog.

Hope.   It’s the thing w/ wings.

Like... "I HOPE they've done this on a LOT of other dogs, before Maggers..."

So she walks under her own power to the car, looks at the back seat, and basically collapses.  

    (See, this is why I didn’t rescue the 120#  bull dog with the amazing face, right out of a tom and             jerry cartoon.  I can do curls with my dog.  one armed.   As far as you know.)

Got all 30# of her in the car, and then drove 50 minutes home, my hand reaching back to steady her when I’d stop or turn.  

Too weak to get in the car, barely able to walk… no problem wobbling into my room and leaping onto the bed, once we got home, and didn’t move for almost 16 hours.

Which is only slightly longer than any other day…..

Inactivity can, apparently, be exhausting.  

_________________________________________________

Yeah, you savvy consumers just picked up on my segue.   Great job!  

You’re doing great!

 

I’ve had a week of exhausting inactivity.  

And considering all the plates that are spinning, this was quite a feat.

No movement on either house; no promised call backs from hunters of head…

All kinds of big stuff, not moved a single iota forward. 

Shit’s exhausting.

Finally told folks to stop calling and asking about all of it.   “Hey, if anything happens, I promise it won’t be a secret…..”

 ___________________________

Had to vacate for awhile again the other night, whilst strangers roamed free in my home.    Went out to the country estate, where my fiance and her mom were pinning my daughter’s dress for the wedding.

There she was, all long and lanky; with a goofy grin on her face as she’s trying on, and starting to walk, in sparkly heels.     

Hard to walk that tight rope between girl and young woman, in sparkly heels, I reckon.   

But she nailed it.

I, of course, was support. 

Physical support in this case. Someone she could hold onto whilst balancing in a long dress and heels on a step ladder.  

I know my role.  

And hopefully she knows she can always hold on, when she needs to keep / regain her balance. 

_______________

Weird week, which lasted at least a week and a half, ended in a backhandedly cool way.

See, we're way understaffed at work.   And as we're global, and NOT based here, getting new head count approved generally takes... 3 or 4 years.      maybe.   

Finally, FINALLY, after 9 years and 6 months, HR approved the head count, and 6 months later, they had finished writing out the job description.

And... noone wanted it.

Noone was willing to do the job for the money offered.   

So in a stunning example of speed and efficiency, they did a quick industry study, and realized they were not paying enough.

And to make THAT adjustment, they had to adjust the existing team's salaries'.      

(That would be me and one other person.)

"Happy friday, here's a small, unexpected raise, cuz we've been cheap. "  

Cool!

and kind of hilarious in a backhanded, head shaking kinda way.   but who can't use an extra few bucks?

Years ago, I wrote of a very bad day.  EX's.... questionable parking choices ended up with all of us, including the baby, under the city of Chicago at the impound yard one cold, wet weekday night, paying a few hundred to get the car back.  I left the house at the normal time that morning. did NOT get home until almost bedtime.  it was a ridiculously long and expensive day, full of tension and unpleasantness.

Finally, a block or two from home, we stopped at Chipotle for dinner.    When it came time to pay, it turned out my burrito's wrapper had a star on it, so it was free.

"Today's your lucky day!!"

like that.

Channeling John Cusack, spinning plates, and mandatory weekend ruination.

 For today's writing exercise, i shall be writing in the dark.    ready?

DDF0,N Dog trewolw.s.r

Tis a dumb exercise.  let's light a single candle, instead of cursing the darkness.

woke up to a sticky note on the coffee maker, letting me know it was ready to go.   I felt, for a moment, that I was living my best life.

meanwhile, the dog, the enigma, the special one.....  was VERY content on my bed. 

"But you need to pee."

I'll hold it forever.  

"come on."

absolutely not.

And I could have walked to the back door and held it open, in my boxer briefs, and whistled, but i know that this would have accomplished nothing.     Well, maybe goosebumps....

Now's the time to mention that, when looking at rescue dogs, I insisted it be small enough to carry without hurting myself. .

I had been responsible for the 80+ pounder, before.    

30lbs, as it turns out.... one armed.  like a sleeping baby, carried her through the house, and plunked her down outside.     

Easy or hard, Maggie.   

She always gets to pick.

she's still standing where I put her down, 10 minutes later, staring at the back door.   Engima....

So, the house is still on the market, the new house is not ready yet, and I had two phone interviews recently for a job I was not even aware existed.    

I love it when jobs hunt me, instead of the other way around. 

The recruiter's a good guy, seems to be good at his job, unlike so many that have randomly rang my phone over the years.   Pretty sure I've written about it.

Why... I have...

  What's on MY mind today?: Matchmaker matchmaker... thoughts on recruiters (patrickosplayhouse.blogspot.com)

And it was nice chatting with folks, when I've too much other stuff going on to be nervous.    

"Hey. S'up."

   

            "If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have gotten to me earlier." 

                            -John Cusack, HIGH FIDELITY

Any moment now, I should spring into action.    Maybe even bathe.   Is it an even day week or an odd day week?   I'll have to check the shower schedule....

meet family at a college football game, later, on what should be a perfect college football saturday.

Tomorrow....I have to be at work at 6:30 to help count... packaging?  maybe?   

i love it when i have to go in on a sunday.  I feel so respected.  like my own time is valuable.

Usually, it's on a sunday when I have my daughter.  Guess I'm getting off light this time....

The absolute best is when I show up as commanded, and noone knows why I'm there, I'm not on anyone's list, but just sit tight (for 6 bloody hours) and we'll find you something to do.....

speaking hypothetically of course.  that would NEVER happen.   

Twice in a row....     

unless it actually did...... hypothetically.

Well.  I smell, and I have to be at breakfast in a half hour.   probably should do something about that....

peace out, homeys.  May your weekend be happy and sunny and a time for recharging your body and soul.   

and may someone please buy my house.....

Russian - is she or isn't she? / a moment of catharis / slapping family members for personal gain. What do you have to lose, but time?

 I had to cancel an appointment with someone whom I believe to be russian intelligence, earlier today.

I looked at my schedule, and everything I have going on, and emailed my regrets.

Had ya at "Russian Intelligence".

don't you dare lie.

She, being a wee slip of a woman, yet so skilled at tortu  deep tissue massage.... russian intelligence.

You're welcome.   now on to boring, potentially whiny shit.       Do as you see fit.

.......But how was I to know, she was with the Russians, too?

                    Thanks Warren.  you were a real life dick by all accounts, but you wrote some great songs.

Hey, I'm getting-married-buying-a-house-selling-another-house-my-kid's-in-freakin'-high-school-now-and-is-all-yay-band-yay-robotics-whatever.

that sentence actually took me three days to write, and the dog just had to be outside in the goddamn rain for a few minutes, ok?!?!?

She's still 57% convinced I'm going to abuse her at any moment, anyhow.   might as well take advantage. 

so....AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!     man.  that was cathartic.  Thanks for letting me do that.

What was I whining about?

oh, yeah.  Everything.

And I could go on, and really let it rip.  but... I spent three days to write that one, declarative sentence. 

Why spoil it?    

 But it's there, bitches.   simmering.  just under the surface.

I'm a ticking time bomb, babies.

Yeah, it IS all really good stuff.    Doesn't mean I wouldn't smack my own mamma for a car service.

Sorry mom, but by bedtime tonite.... 6 round trips to the next town north of here, in just over 24 hour period.   

It'll be a love tap.

I swear.

Oh, and the dog, we've decided, is.. an enigma, to be as kind as possible about it.  a riddle....

we say "bless her weird little heart" a lot.    

She doesn't seem to care one way or the other. 

FB hijacks, special education dogs, and you can only get so wet.

 So, a couple weekends ago, I got FB jacked.

Got an email on saturday from FB, stating someone had tried to access my account, and if it wasn't me, let them know.

So I did.

And the next morning I received several more emails from FB, stating that they had shut me down, for violating FB guidelines.   

Although it was not me, it was the person who jacked me.

Now, I get almost daily notifications that the person who jacked me is paying for their FB ads, manually.

In Arabic currency.

So that's going well, I think.

Got jacked, not long after bringing Maggie home from dog rescue. She's sweet, and house trained and loves having her ears scratched,  and is convinced that I'm going to torture her, about 2/3 of the time.

Which is an improvement from 3/4 of the time, where we started when she came home.

She doesn't seem to know what to do with herself.   She'll just stand in the middle of the room, staring off into space.   or walk a few laps 'round my little house.    

She'll beg to go out moments after coming in.   if we're outside on the deck, she'll walk right past us and scratch on the door to go inside.     She's... special.

I blame her small head.  she's built kinda like a dinosaur.....

Last night was my daughter's first high school half time marching band performance.

it was 90 and sunny and humid as fuck, when I left my house to drive the 10 miles or so to her high school.   I remembered head covering, and was pounding the fluids on the way, to stay hydrated.

15 minutes later, i pull into the overflowing parking lot and...it's all cloudy.

Before end of first quarter, it started raining.  and it just kept getting worse.

shortly before the half, it was actually raining sideways. 

but by god, we were going to stay to watch them march, even if we spend 2nd half in our cars.

with seconds left in the half.... thunder and lightning.   We all bolted from the metal stands, as wet as we possibly could be, as the game was called.  

Standing in the rain, I removed my soaking wet glasses and wiped them on my soaking wet t-shirt, earning an odd glance or two from the folks next to me. 

         "I don't feel like I need to explain my art to you, Warren" - Empire Records

45 minutes later, they finally let the band kids go home.  

we walked, soaked to the bone, squelching with each step, out of the high school.   

Only to discover it had just stopped raining.   We get to the car, where i open the hatch to grab a beach blanket, for my daughter and I to sit on.  

On top of the beach blanket?   An umbrella.   

a goddamn umbrella........

We get home, to discover it hadn't rained a drop.     

God laughs.

Peace signs and that one spot....

There's this spot, on my default walking route.

Default, cuz I tend to walk it when I'm on the clock, and want to bang out some hills and about 1.4 miles in 30 minutes, which is my version of a lunch break when I'm working remotely.

So there's this spot....

A little grassy area, with a picnic table.  Behind what was a KFC, soon to be a chain coffee place. on a glorified alley, a small winding street that exists only for the handful of houses on it.  it's not on the way to or from anywhere.....

On a couple of occasions, soon after I started walking this route, I was  hit up for change by various sad sacks sitting at the table.... Only took a couple of times before I started swinging wide, and not making eye contact, whenever I'd see someone sitting there.

So there's this spot... 

As I neared it the other day, an older, kind of disheveled fella was walking toward me on the street, from the opposite direction.  

"Man. Here we go. Don't make eye contact..."   

As we got closer to one another, he nervously, of all things, flashed me the peace sign.

I can say without exaggeration that, having missed the 60's (I was 2, I believe, when Woodstock happened), I've not oft been flashed the peace sign by random passersby.

I smiled and nodded at him.  Standard acknowledgement, when passing other walkers....

He looked a bit more anxious.

The peace sign came out again, almost pushed at me this time. 

"Good morning." I say, politely, still smiling, still walking.

And... Peace sign a 3rd time.  Ironically he almost looked mad.

At this spot, on my default walking route.

And then we were past one another.  

Entire exchange from beginning to end, including the greeting, the nodding, all the smiling, and all three peace signs?  

maybe 10 seconds. 

Fuck, people.  I didn't flash him the peace sign back.     Because, for same reason I've not oft been flashed the peace sign by random passersby....    I've not oft flashed the peace sign at random passersby.   

Coincidence?!?!

I think not.

A few hundred words ago, I thought I knew where this was going.  And now I'm realizing it didn't quite end up there.   It happens.  Maybe it's just one of those "moment of my day" dealies, but with greater emphasis on audience and structure.

Maybe that's all there is to this one.

Oh, wait...

A reminder to be good, your own way.   Be kind, your own way.

You do you, Boo Boo.

Don't worry about conforming to someone else's deluded beliefs, as to what constitutes good and bad. 

There it is! 

sort of.

ish.

Oh, and.... peace.

Fireworks, flashlights, and frozen feet

 Good day, friends.

Laptop's half dead, coffee's hot, and my feet are freezing.

let's get funky.

Laptop's half dead.

    So about 9:45 or so last night, as I was headed to bed, there were... fireworks.

Random, but ok.    Until we realized what we had heard, and saw through the curtains, wasn't fireworks.  It was a transformer blowing, right in front of my house.   We realized this, when I went into the bathroom and turned the light on and nothing happened....

well... damn.  

within moments, Consumer's energy was all over it, texting me.... 4 times to let me know there was a power outage.   Where were they BEFORE I walked into the bathroom?

So electronics were unplugged, and I wandered thru my dark house, to where I knew I had, at some point, tossed some flashlights.   

Still in the package.   

with the batteries taped..

But there are no such things as problems, I'm told, only opportunities. 

Eventually, I handed out now-working flashlights; told my almost 14 year old that she was ready for the truth, and that flashlights are not, as she assumed for so long, toys; found a portable light in the same drawer w/ flashlights, put that in the bathroom, and went to bed.

Woke up this morning to power, lots of blinking clocks, and several emails from the internet company, letting me know they had detected an outage, and were, apparently, struggling to fix it.  

Hey, call the electric company.   They may have some insight into the problem.....

blinking clocks are fixed, phones and laptops are plugged back in, and life moves on apace.

Kid's still asleep, which she should be, at 7:30 on a saturday morning.  My house is 64 degrees, and my feet are freezing.  but if I turn on the furnace, it'll get loud and warm.   She's snug and happy and asleep, so.... I'll find a pair of slippers.

Coffee WAS hot, when I started this.      And then I decided to soak my feet in it....