Typed a letter for My Father. Had it typed out yesterday, but Mother didn't bring the name to which I need to address the letter to because I forgot to call her.
Anyway, I called Mother today to remind her, and she brought the name home, and all I did was bring up the letter and filled in the name. So I bring in My Father, who just stepped out of the shower. He looks it over, and my fucking God, he does that, "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" in that fucking goddamn whiny way he always does, like the child he always is. I was cool with it, and with him, up until that point; I was pretty damn testy with him after it.
Now, I fixed what he wanted fixed -- something about tenants needing to do the job instead of the management company, something he didn't tell me before I began writing the letter -- and when I wrested him out of bed, he looked at it again and said it was fine. No whining, no tone, no bad attitude. No thank you either, though.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Not At My Best Today
My taking care of Grandmother is really fucking with my sleep schedule. No need to set an alarm nowadays; Grandmother weakly tapping her fingernails on my door is enough to wake me up -- and start my day off on a frazzled and irritated note. Thus I do my best to sleepwalk, to function as much as I need to in order to give her her insulin shot without waking up too many parts of my brain. Otherwise I'll be on all morning. That might be good on days where I have to go into the lab, but on weekends, it just fucks me up badly.
I had chores I wanted to do today -- not because I think they needed to be done, but because I wanted to prove to Father that I'm doing work around the house. That wasn't enough of a reason for me to stay up; I went back to sleep, figuring I'd wake up whenever.
Whenever wasn't when I heard the door chime because someone came in; it was minutes after that, when Grandmother rapped my door like a cat would again. When I came out, she asked me, "Going anywhere today?"
Ugh. I know what's coming:
"No."
"Can you take this meat to your aunt's?"
Shit. It's one of those days where I don't feel I need to go out, which makes it much easier not to spend gas or money. But her friend came by with food he or she bought -- her friends always do that -- and she's being so generous she's making me change clothes to give this food she got for free to someone else.
Still groggy, I found an excuse to not immediately bolt for the garage: The Miami Heat-Bastard Seattle SuperSonics game was in the final minutes. Ooh, had to see that while changing.
When that game got done, I finally had the energy to get out of my room. There, as I was reaching over the dinner table to grab the food that I need to deliver to my aunt and uncle, Grandmother said, "She's coming over. You don't need to drive to her place and give it to her." And immediately I started to whine -- "Then why did you make me get up and get dressed when I don't have to do anything? I've had to get all prepared and now you tell me that's all for nothing??" I even went back into my room and came out again to yell at her some more because I wasn't satisfied with the amount I yelled at her the first time. I don't like it when my plans change once, let alone twice. But looking back on it, goddamn I was so immature about it. Having my plans change twice meant I got to do what I wanted to do before, which was stay home. And besides, it wasn't a big deal. So what? Man, sometimes I hate myself.
So I'm in this immature state and I decide to climb back on the bed. At this point it's a quarter to 3; I assume that I still have time to either take out a pail and water to clean the plant or go outside and chop down the snowbank. Till then, I'll just watch St. John's upset Duke and the beginning of the Celtics-Lakers game.
Then I hear the door open again. Didn't think they'd be home this early ... whoops. Well, no use doing chores for show now. Father did not yell at me ... and so I start questioning myself again. You know, I could have done something. That plant does need to be cleaned; that snowbank could use some decking. Felt so bad that it spurred me to hang up all the newly-washed clothes that I threw on the ground, and restart taping up my Entertainment Weeklys.
All in all, I could've been better. Instead of lazing around, there were things I could do and, just as important, I could've not acted like a little bitch when I was asked -- not told, asked -- to do something I didn't want to do.
I had chores I wanted to do today -- not because I think they needed to be done, but because I wanted to prove to Father that I'm doing work around the house. That wasn't enough of a reason for me to stay up; I went back to sleep, figuring I'd wake up whenever.
Whenever wasn't when I heard the door chime because someone came in; it was minutes after that, when Grandmother rapped my door like a cat would again. When I came out, she asked me, "Going anywhere today?"
Ugh. I know what's coming:
"No."
"Can you take this meat to your aunt's?"
Shit. It's one of those days where I don't feel I need to go out, which makes it much easier not to spend gas or money. But her friend came by with food he or she bought -- her friends always do that -- and she's being so generous she's making me change clothes to give this food she got for free to someone else.
Still groggy, I found an excuse to not immediately bolt for the garage: The Miami Heat-Bastard Seattle SuperSonics game was in the final minutes. Ooh, had to see that while changing.
When that game got done, I finally had the energy to get out of my room. There, as I was reaching over the dinner table to grab the food that I need to deliver to my aunt and uncle, Grandmother said, "She's coming over. You don't need to drive to her place and give it to her." And immediately I started to whine -- "Then why did you make me get up and get dressed when I don't have to do anything? I've had to get all prepared and now you tell me that's all for nothing??" I even went back into my room and came out again to yell at her some more because I wasn't satisfied with the amount I yelled at her the first time. I don't like it when my plans change once, let alone twice. But looking back on it, goddamn I was so immature about it. Having my plans change twice meant I got to do what I wanted to do before, which was stay home. And besides, it wasn't a big deal. So what? Man, sometimes I hate myself.
So I'm in this immature state and I decide to climb back on the bed. At this point it's a quarter to 3; I assume that I still have time to either take out a pail and water to clean the plant or go outside and chop down the snowbank. Till then, I'll just watch St. John's upset Duke and the beginning of the Celtics-Lakers game.
Then I hear the door open again. Didn't think they'd be home this early ... whoops. Well, no use doing chores for show now. Father did not yell at me ... and so I start questioning myself again. You know, I could have done something. That plant does need to be cleaned; that snowbank could use some decking. Felt so bad that it spurred me to hang up all the newly-washed clothes that I threw on the ground, and restart taping up my Entertainment Weeklys.
All in all, I could've been better. Instead of lazing around, there were things I could do and, just as important, I could've not acted like a little bitch when I was asked -- not told, asked -- to do something I didn't want to do.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
RIP, Overdrive
Overdrive was one of those online games by social network-gaming giant Zynga. I was not interested in any of these at all until one day, one of the Playboy Playmates or pornstars I'm friends with on MySpace sent me one of those unsolicited requests for another of the game -- Mobsters, I think. I wanted to impress her, with thoughts in the back of my mind that this would lead me to getting laid. Instead, I got caught up with the act of mouseclicks being used as "fighting" and "performing jobs" such as running moonshine over the county line and killing a snitch. This is Dungeons & Dragons updated for the Internet age.
I don't know if have fun with these games. Not only do I "play" Mobsters, but I also "do" Mafia Wars (for facebook as well as MySpace), and for some damn reason I'm on this gardening game called Green Planet. Still don't know how to play that. I don't even think I should call these "games." Clicking on a mouse and being told what is happening is not what I consider a "game." It's an "activity," and yet I can't help but check on it. I don't play it -- I tend to it. It's the equivalent of taking care of a plant; if you don't make sure it gets enough food and water so it grows, it'll die. And I don't want it to die, so I head back to my mob guy in Mobsters and Mafia Wars and fight and loot and contract kill so my player gets better, even though it's a pain in the ass a lot of the time and I don't really derive any enjoyment from it.
Another way I know I got attached to these mindless games came through around Christmas, when Overdrive announced that it was going to end on the 25th of January. I got into Overdrive because joining and playing it was a requirement for completing one of the jobs on Mobsters. It was a street-racing "game," but I always found it hard to do its jobs and improve my standing because I never was able to get other people, really or imaginary, as part of my "crew," and therefore was never able to do the tasks that required more than a crew of myself. (You can purchase other "Mafia Members" for Mafia Wars, and Mobsters is rigged so that if you master a job, sometimes you'll receive a mob member so you can start working on tasks with your increased group.) I grew disenchanted by Overdrive because of its limitations, but I still cared to check up on it once in a while.
And when I saw that Overdrive was in its last month of life, I had that mindset whenever someone is told he or she has one life to live: I did as much as I could in my time left. I had millions in my bank, most of them on a fluke: I "challenged" some guy with a crew of about 320 to a "race" because some player put a bounty on him. I lost, like, 300 energy thingies (energies?) to 1. But this guy probably only had 1 energy thingy left because I knocked him out, and therefore got the bounty. Anyway, there was no reason to keep it in store, so I took it out and bought up as many car washes and residential properties (the only two pieces of income-generating real estate I could buy because I was by myself).
I also had 16 "favor points" left, which is currency to buy other things, like dummy street racers and this thing called "Nitro," which is a boost that helps you with races. Four of those points for fifteen minutes' worth. When you race somebody at the "track," there is a list of people you can challenge, and almost all of them have triple-digit crews. No matter; I bought some Nitro and challenged, and lost, to as many of these people as I could before I was completely out of energy and had to wait for it to recharge. And I spent my last four "favor points" on their slot machine game -- spin and you may win a prize. I got nothing.
I was sad to do all that I could have done overnight Monday (early Tuesday morning), but Overdrive didn't leave me with anything left, so I said a silent goodbye and clicked it off. Then, late Wednesday afternoon (I think maybe it was Thursday afternoon), I saw that the Overdrive icon was still there. Just out of curiosity I checked it. I could still play! So maybe Overdrive was getting a reprieve. So I did as many tasks as I could and raced as many times as I could and banked all the money I made from those and my real estate properties, just like I usually do.
I left Overdrive hoping/thinking it'd be up for the foreseeable future. But, either overnight Thursday (early Friday morning), Friday afternoon, or overnight Friday (early Saturday morning -- I feel really bad for not remembering the exact day and time), I clicked on it only to see a message that said the "game" had been discontinued. I reached only Level 63 (I think), never even reaching the jobs that waited for me Internationally (I think) upon reaching Level 70. If only.
I am sad. Farewell, Overdrive.
I don't know if have fun with these games. Not only do I "play" Mobsters, but I also "do" Mafia Wars (for facebook as well as MySpace), and for some damn reason I'm on this gardening game called Green Planet. Still don't know how to play that. I don't even think I should call these "games." Clicking on a mouse and being told what is happening is not what I consider a "game." It's an "activity," and yet I can't help but check on it. I don't play it -- I tend to it. It's the equivalent of taking care of a plant; if you don't make sure it gets enough food and water so it grows, it'll die. And I don't want it to die, so I head back to my mob guy in Mobsters and Mafia Wars and fight and loot and contract kill so my player gets better, even though it's a pain in the ass a lot of the time and I don't really derive any enjoyment from it.
Another way I know I got attached to these mindless games came through around Christmas, when Overdrive announced that it was going to end on the 25th of January. I got into Overdrive because joining and playing it was a requirement for completing one of the jobs on Mobsters. It was a street-racing "game," but I always found it hard to do its jobs and improve my standing because I never was able to get other people, really or imaginary, as part of my "crew," and therefore was never able to do the tasks that required more than a crew of myself. (You can purchase other "Mafia Members" for Mafia Wars, and Mobsters is rigged so that if you master a job, sometimes you'll receive a mob member so you can start working on tasks with your increased group.) I grew disenchanted by Overdrive because of its limitations, but I still cared to check up on it once in a while.
And when I saw that Overdrive was in its last month of life, I had that mindset whenever someone is told he or she has one life to live: I did as much as I could in my time left. I had millions in my bank, most of them on a fluke: I "challenged" some guy with a crew of about 320 to a "race" because some player put a bounty on him. I lost, like, 300 energy thingies (energies?) to 1. But this guy probably only had 1 energy thingy left because I knocked him out, and therefore got the bounty. Anyway, there was no reason to keep it in store, so I took it out and bought up as many car washes and residential properties (the only two pieces of income-generating real estate I could buy because I was by myself).
I also had 16 "favor points" left, which is currency to buy other things, like dummy street racers and this thing called "Nitro," which is a boost that helps you with races. Four of those points for fifteen minutes' worth. When you race somebody at the "track," there is a list of people you can challenge, and almost all of them have triple-digit crews. No matter; I bought some Nitro and challenged, and lost, to as many of these people as I could before I was completely out of energy and had to wait for it to recharge. And I spent my last four "favor points" on their slot machine game -- spin and you may win a prize. I got nothing.
I was sad to do all that I could have done overnight Monday (early Tuesday morning), but Overdrive didn't leave me with anything left, so I said a silent goodbye and clicked it off. Then, late Wednesday afternoon (I think maybe it was Thursday afternoon), I saw that the Overdrive icon was still there. Just out of curiosity I checked it. I could still play! So maybe Overdrive was getting a reprieve. So I did as many tasks as I could and raced as many times as I could and banked all the money I made from those and my real estate properties, just like I usually do.
I left Overdrive hoping/thinking it'd be up for the foreseeable future. But, either overnight Thursday (early Friday morning), Friday afternoon, or overnight Friday (early Saturday morning -- I feel really bad for not remembering the exact day and time), I clicked on it only to see a message that said the "game" had been discontinued. I reached only Level 63 (I think), never even reaching the jobs that waited for me Internationally (I think) upon reaching Level 70. If only.
I am sad. Farewell, Overdrive.
Lost Phone Triggers Choices, Confusion, Soul-Searching
After tonight's Swarm game and waiting for the Minnesota Roller Girls' friendly with Madison's Derbyland Dolls to begin, I checked my phone ... and realized I could not check it because I didn't have it. Did I drop it at my old seat before moving to a new chair for the derby? Went back; wasn't there.
Didn't sweat it. Probably left it in the car, like I often do. But it got me thinking about what to do after the derby was over. Should I eat at My Favorite Late-Night Place? Naw -- too close to home, so my engine won't heat up enough by the time I get home, and besides, I have no reason to watch the TV tonight because there's no big sports news tonight. Uptown? That place is great, but it'd be the second time this week I went out of my way to go there, and I should conserve gasoline.
Mickey's? Ooh, Mickey's, the quintessential Twin Cities greasy spoon. Haven't eaten there in a long time. I have a few reservations because there's a roller derby afterparty somewhere else in downtown St. Paul and I'd feel a tad weird if I ran into someone there because they would know I wouldn't be at that bar. Ah, fuck it, I tell myself, and I make myself a deal: If the phone's in my car, I relax and have dinner at Mickey's.
After the derby game (which was more like a rout), I go to my car and search the passenger seat, which is where I usually leave my phone. It wasn't there. Well, shit. I imagine my phone, lying on my bed or dropped on the floor somewhere at the X or on the sidewalk, turned off. I imagine my parents, especially My Father, pissed off after leaving me yet another voicemail asking me where the hell am I, they've got to take Grandmother to the hospital. I imagine Grandmother slowly dying because she slipped on our slippery walk up to the front door ... wait a second, what does that have to do with me losing my phone? Never mind.
I didn't think I was responsible enough to go anywhere except back home. Maybe this is a sign. I don't have much money right now, it was cold out, and the roller derby game ended the twinbill at a little big past 12:15. Somebody's telling me something. So I just started the car and left for home.
Well ... first I remembered I had a passing thought about filling up my gas tank on my way home. With the unrest in Egypt this week, the price of oil shot up. I don't think I can take a chance of waiting for the price of gas to fall; tomorrow I don't plan on leaving the house, and on Monday, not only do I work but there's a snowstorm coming in, so filling up with gas will be last in my to-do list. That means I'll have to shut off my car just before I go home, so my worries about turning off a cold engine because I'm eating at a place close to home are moot because I'll be putting gas in my car at a station close to home. Whatever. ...
Anyway, I had decided not to eat before going home, but on 94 West, I remembered there was a Hardee's. Hmmm, Hardee's. ... There was one close by while I was in high school, so close that I could walk to it. I fell in love with its Frisco Burger, and the chicken they once served wasn't bad. Then one day, they disappeared. I heard the restaurant made a huge investment into chicken, and no customers bought it, so as part of its retrenching they pulled out of Minnesota. But when I started going to St. Paul, I saw that there was still a place just west of the city. Ate there for the first time last year, I think.
And I thought maybe I could eat there again. I should go home, but why? It's on the way. It's also far enough away from home that my engine will burn off all the impurities in the oil by the time I get to the gas station that, if I don't dawdle, it won't matter that I turned my car on for only a minute, technically. It's drive-thru only, so I'll have to eat in the car, but that's good because then I'll have to be quick. I'm not hungry -- I had two cups of coffee this afternoon (I might talk about this some other time) so I've had caffeine restricting my bloodflow and curbing my appetite -- but I last ate something at 5:30, and hey, it's Hardee's!
Thoughts of my parents and Grandmother waiting up for me made me think I don't have 15 minutes to waste. But I'm a selfish dick who wants to enjoy some personal time out before going home, so I pull off the interstate and get some food. Wow, $7.20 for a Frisco Burger combo?!?! That's just as much as I would pay at Uptown, I think. Fast food has always meant cheap, too. Hasn't the price of fast food combos shot up in the last few years. Why is that? Don't they know part of the reason we go there so often is because it's inexpensive. But oh, did it taste so good!
Filled up my tank, went home. No lights on in any room in the house. And no prone Grandmother, whew. The phone was on my bed, underneath the pajama bottoms I took laid there while changing.
There was a message. It was from my friend whom I called yesterday and asked if she was going to be at the game(s) tonight. She texted back she was, and even gave me her section and row. I don't know if I would've even seen her because checking my phone didn't enter my mind for most of my evening there. Still, sorry, Pam.
Didn't sweat it. Probably left it in the car, like I often do. But it got me thinking about what to do after the derby was over. Should I eat at My Favorite Late-Night Place? Naw -- too close to home, so my engine won't heat up enough by the time I get home, and besides, I have no reason to watch the TV tonight because there's no big sports news tonight. Uptown? That place is great, but it'd be the second time this week I went out of my way to go there, and I should conserve gasoline.
Mickey's? Ooh, Mickey's, the quintessential Twin Cities greasy spoon. Haven't eaten there in a long time. I have a few reservations because there's a roller derby afterparty somewhere else in downtown St. Paul and I'd feel a tad weird if I ran into someone there because they would know I wouldn't be at that bar. Ah, fuck it, I tell myself, and I make myself a deal: If the phone's in my car, I relax and have dinner at Mickey's.
After the derby game (which was more like a rout), I go to my car and search the passenger seat, which is where I usually leave my phone. It wasn't there. Well, shit. I imagine my phone, lying on my bed or dropped on the floor somewhere at the X or on the sidewalk, turned off. I imagine my parents, especially My Father, pissed off after leaving me yet another voicemail asking me where the hell am I, they've got to take Grandmother to the hospital. I imagine Grandmother slowly dying because she slipped on our slippery walk up to the front door ... wait a second, what does that have to do with me losing my phone? Never mind.
I didn't think I was responsible enough to go anywhere except back home. Maybe this is a sign. I don't have much money right now, it was cold out, and the roller derby game ended the twinbill at a little big past 12:15. Somebody's telling me something. So I just started the car and left for home.
Well ... first I remembered I had a passing thought about filling up my gas tank on my way home. With the unrest in Egypt this week, the price of oil shot up. I don't think I can take a chance of waiting for the price of gas to fall; tomorrow I don't plan on leaving the house, and on Monday, not only do I work but there's a snowstorm coming in, so filling up with gas will be last in my to-do list. That means I'll have to shut off my car just before I go home, so my worries about turning off a cold engine because I'm eating at a place close to home are moot because I'll be putting gas in my car at a station close to home. Whatever. ...
Anyway, I had decided not to eat before going home, but on 94 West, I remembered there was a Hardee's. Hmmm, Hardee's. ... There was one close by while I was in high school, so close that I could walk to it. I fell in love with its Frisco Burger, and the chicken they once served wasn't bad. Then one day, they disappeared. I heard the restaurant made a huge investment into chicken, and no customers bought it, so as part of its retrenching they pulled out of Minnesota. But when I started going to St. Paul, I saw that there was still a place just west of the city. Ate there for the first time last year, I think.
And I thought maybe I could eat there again. I should go home, but why? It's on the way. It's also far enough away from home that my engine will burn off all the impurities in the oil by the time I get to the gas station that, if I don't dawdle, it won't matter that I turned my car on for only a minute, technically. It's drive-thru only, so I'll have to eat in the car, but that's good because then I'll have to be quick. I'm not hungry -- I had two cups of coffee this afternoon (I might talk about this some other time) so I've had caffeine restricting my bloodflow and curbing my appetite -- but I last ate something at 5:30, and hey, it's Hardee's!
Thoughts of my parents and Grandmother waiting up for me made me think I don't have 15 minutes to waste. But I'm a selfish dick who wants to enjoy some personal time out before going home, so I pull off the interstate and get some food. Wow, $7.20 for a Frisco Burger combo?!?! That's just as much as I would pay at Uptown, I think. Fast food has always meant cheap, too. Hasn't the price of fast food combos shot up in the last few years. Why is that? Don't they know part of the reason we go there so often is because it's inexpensive. But oh, did it taste so good!
Filled up my tank, went home. No lights on in any room in the house. And no prone Grandmother, whew. The phone was on my bed, underneath the pajama bottoms I took laid there while changing.
There was a message. It was from my friend whom I called yesterday and asked if she was going to be at the game(s) tonight. She texted back she was, and even gave me her section and row. I don't know if I would've even seen her because checking my phone didn't enter my mind for most of my evening there. Still, sorry, Pam.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -2). The grapplers take the top spot after winning their third match in a row on the road against a ranked opponent. It was close, 21-16, but they won at then-15th-ranked Illinois. Because of that, and because Virginia Tech lost, the Gophs are now ranked 4th in the NWCA/USA Today Coaches Poll. This Sunday, they host the team ranked 3rd: Wisconsin. It's a rematch of their dual in that Nationals earlier this month, where the Badgers nipped Minnesota, 19-17.
#-2: Swarm (Re-Entry!). A 9-8 win over Edmonton gives our National Lacross League team two in a row to take the lead atop the Western Conference. They were trailing the Rush before outscoring them 4-2 in the fourth quarter. This was the second straight time they held their opponent to eight goals, which I'm guessing is very good. That defensive effort was lead by Goalie Nick Patterson; he notched 47 saves and was named NLL Defensive Player Of The Week for ... the second straight week. All told, Patterson has a Save Percentage of .858 (97-for-113) for this winning "streak."
They are in action at the X tonight when they face the Washington Stealth. I'll be there, not just for the lacrosse game but because of the second half of a multi-sport twin-bill: After the Swarm game, the Minnesota Roller Girls will play a friendly against the Mad Rollin' Dolls of Madison, Wisc. The MNRG usually play next door at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium, but this special night is an effort to break the modern-day attendance record for a roller derby bout, which currently is held by the Rat City Rollergirls of Seattle (6,015). These Mad Rollin' Dolls are a good team, so we could have a double home team win, or a dreadful double loss. The Swarm follow up with a game at Buffalo Friday.
#-3: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -4). A 5-1 victory over a program that is too far away to field a financially viable men's ice hockey team, Alaska-Anchorage (although they're closer to Minnesota than Alaska-Fairbanks). An even spread: All goals scored by a different player.
Didn't know that last week was the team's last bye week for the rest of the season, whenever that ends. They have one more against the Seawolves at Mariucci tonight, then begin a two-game set at fifth-ranked UMD Friday night.
#-4: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -1). Crushed Ohio St. in Columbus 8-1, then went to Madison last (Friday) night and, even though it technically goes down as a 2-all tie, the Badgers win the shootout, so the Gophs' winning streak ends at nine. Center Sarah Davis is the WCHA's current Rookie Of The Week for assisting on half of the team's eight goals against the Buckeyes last Saturday afternoon. They play one more at Wisconsin tonight, then come home for St. Cloud St. Friday.
#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). If I was able to do this WMNSS before this afternoon's game at Purdue, I would have put them in the catbird seat. After their 1-3 start against the toughest part of their Big Ten schedule, they have won four in a row. Well, had: They were clubbed by the 12th-ranked Boilermakers in West Lafayette, Ind., 73-61. They seemingly started off well, but turnovers and foul trouble started to creep up on the Gophs' massive frontcourt, and Purdue took advantage.
Blake Hoffarber started at Point Guard because Al Nolen is done for the season with a broken right foot. As deep as they are on the downlow, their backcourt is very, very thing. Hoffarber is serviceable running the system, but his strength is jump-and-shooting at the 2-guard spot. Tubby Smith saw that and switched him to the 2 early in the second half. Too little, too late, sadly. We'll see if the Gophers can make any headway in a game that is dominated by guards; also, I want to see if they can get their Free-Throw Shooting Percentage up to a respectable level.
I feel bad that I'm harping on today's loss because they won two games this week, at Michigan Saturday and home against Northwestern Wednesday. This week: at Indiana Wednesday, then they host the #1 team in the country, Ohio St., hours before Super Bowl XLV.
#-6: Wild (Last Week: 0). They are at the All-Star break now after going 1-1 for the week. A kind-of-scuffling 4-3 loss at San Jose was followed up with a confident and strong 4-2 victory at defending Stanley Cup Champion Chicago. They win three-of-four on that roadtrip.
Hey, congratulations to Martin Havlat, named as an injury NHL All-Star Game replacement. What do you think of the new pick-up game format, where two captains choose who they want on their team, regardless of conference? I say it's fine; players might steal the show because they were picked lower than they thought they should be picked. And besides, if it doesn't work, no big deal because it's just an All-Star Game.
After the break, the Wild begin the second half of their season hosting Los Angeles Tuesday and at the Bastard Quebec Nordiques Thursday.
#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). Hey, they won their first conference game against Northwestern Thursday, yay!!! I thought about going to the game. But I decided to work out instead. I figure I should go to a weekend game instead because that way I can avoid seeing my parents yell at me for not doing chores around the house because I'm "out." But not tomorrow against Michigan. They also visit Indiana Thursday.
One other thing: Check out the current edition of ESPN The Magazine. The issues are themed these days; this one is the "Recruiting" issue. In it is a very interesting story about homophobic negative recruiting in women's basketball.
#-8: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). The Woofie Dogs weren't completely embarrassed, but an 0-3 week means they've now lost six in a row.
But I do know one thing: Kevin Love has to make the NBA All-Star Game. The Timberwolves have even started a campaign around convincing the coaches to name Love as a reserve. They have a website and everything under the concept that he has a cologne called "NUMB#ERS." Check it out. Love may need some acting classes for his role in his commercial, but it's alright. In fact, Dime Magazine called this marketing campaign The Best For An All-Star Reserve Spot In The History Of The NBA. High praise. These PR efforts, intended for the coaches who make the decision on who makes the ASG but a way to impress the fanbase, could be the next avenue of fan relations for the NBA and maybe even sports.
This week: home to Toronto and Memphis, then at Toronto. Shit, they could turn the numbers around and have a 3-0 week! OK, wishful thinking. ...
#-2: Swarm (Re-Entry!). A 9-8 win over Edmonton gives our National Lacross League team two in a row to take the lead atop the Western Conference. They were trailing the Rush before outscoring them 4-2 in the fourth quarter. This was the second straight time they held their opponent to eight goals, which I'm guessing is very good. That defensive effort was lead by Goalie Nick Patterson; he notched 47 saves and was named NLL Defensive Player Of The Week for ... the second straight week. All told, Patterson has a Save Percentage of .858 (97-for-113) for this winning "streak."
They are in action at the X tonight when they face the Washington Stealth. I'll be there, not just for the lacrosse game but because of the second half of a multi-sport twin-bill: After the Swarm game, the Minnesota Roller Girls will play a friendly against the Mad Rollin' Dolls of Madison, Wisc. The MNRG usually play next door at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium, but this special night is an effort to break the modern-day attendance record for a roller derby bout, which currently is held by the Rat City Rollergirls of Seattle (6,015). These Mad Rollin' Dolls are a good team, so we could have a double home team win, or a dreadful double loss. The Swarm follow up with a game at Buffalo Friday.
#-3: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -4). A 5-1 victory over a program that is too far away to field a financially viable men's ice hockey team, Alaska-Anchorage (although they're closer to Minnesota than Alaska-Fairbanks). An even spread: All goals scored by a different player.
Didn't know that last week was the team's last bye week for the rest of the season, whenever that ends. They have one more against the Seawolves at Mariucci tonight, then begin a two-game set at fifth-ranked UMD Friday night.
#-4: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -1). Crushed Ohio St. in Columbus 8-1, then went to Madison last (Friday) night and, even though it technically goes down as a 2-all tie, the Badgers win the shootout, so the Gophs' winning streak ends at nine. Center Sarah Davis is the WCHA's current Rookie Of The Week for assisting on half of the team's eight goals against the Buckeyes last Saturday afternoon. They play one more at Wisconsin tonight, then come home for St. Cloud St. Friday.
#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). If I was able to do this WMNSS before this afternoon's game at Purdue, I would have put them in the catbird seat. After their 1-3 start against the toughest part of their Big Ten schedule, they have won four in a row. Well, had: They were clubbed by the 12th-ranked Boilermakers in West Lafayette, Ind., 73-61. They seemingly started off well, but turnovers and foul trouble started to creep up on the Gophs' massive frontcourt, and Purdue took advantage.
Blake Hoffarber started at Point Guard because Al Nolen is done for the season with a broken right foot. As deep as they are on the downlow, their backcourt is very, very thing. Hoffarber is serviceable running the system, but his strength is jump-and-shooting at the 2-guard spot. Tubby Smith saw that and switched him to the 2 early in the second half. Too little, too late, sadly. We'll see if the Gophers can make any headway in a game that is dominated by guards; also, I want to see if they can get their Free-Throw Shooting Percentage up to a respectable level.
I feel bad that I'm harping on today's loss because they won two games this week, at Michigan Saturday and home against Northwestern Wednesday. This week: at Indiana Wednesday, then they host the #1 team in the country, Ohio St., hours before Super Bowl XLV.
#-6: Wild (Last Week: 0). They are at the All-Star break now after going 1-1 for the week. A kind-of-scuffling 4-3 loss at San Jose was followed up with a confident and strong 4-2 victory at defending Stanley Cup Champion Chicago. They win three-of-four on that roadtrip.
Hey, congratulations to Martin Havlat, named as an injury NHL All-Star Game replacement. What do you think of the new pick-up game format, where two captains choose who they want on their team, regardless of conference? I say it's fine; players might steal the show because they were picked lower than they thought they should be picked. And besides, if it doesn't work, no big deal because it's just an All-Star Game.
After the break, the Wild begin the second half of their season hosting Los Angeles Tuesday and at the Bastard Quebec Nordiques Thursday.
#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). Hey, they won their first conference game against Northwestern Thursday, yay!!! I thought about going to the game. But I decided to work out instead. I figure I should go to a weekend game instead because that way I can avoid seeing my parents yell at me for not doing chores around the house because I'm "out." But not tomorrow against Michigan. They also visit Indiana Thursday.
One other thing: Check out the current edition of ESPN The Magazine. The issues are themed these days; this one is the "Recruiting" issue. In it is a very interesting story about homophobic negative recruiting in women's basketball.
#-8: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). The Woofie Dogs weren't completely embarrassed, but an 0-3 week means they've now lost six in a row.
But I do know one thing: Kevin Love has to make the NBA All-Star Game. The Timberwolves have even started a campaign around convincing the coaches to name Love as a reserve. They have a website and everything under the concept that he has a cologne called "NUMB#ERS." Check it out. Love may need some acting classes for his role in his commercial, but it's alright. In fact, Dime Magazine called this marketing campaign The Best For An All-Star Reserve Spot In The History Of The NBA. High praise. These PR efforts, intended for the coaches who make the decision on who makes the ASG but a way to impress the fanbase, could be the next avenue of fan relations for the NBA and maybe even sports.
This week: home to Toronto and Memphis, then at Toronto. Shit, they could turn the numbers around and have a 3-0 week! OK, wishful thinking. ...
I'm playing Mafia Wars for facebook, right? Well, through mismanagement I have accrued enough points or chips (I don't know what you call them) to raise all my levels by 1, 2, 5 or 20.
Moreover, I have this thing where I only spend points/chips when I have five or more, because I have five characteristics from which to spend them on (Energy, Stamina, Defense, two others), and want to evenly raise them at one time. Moreover, I will only raise them by one at a pop; I just have this thing where my character needs to, for lack of a better word, "pay his dues" at one level at a time, at least for a little bit.
Guess I've played a lot without spending them to improve my character, because I literally have "performed" so many "jobs" that I had 20 just now. It was time to cash in on the points/chips, so I went to the improve your character page and I started lifting my levels by a point/chip.
All it takes is hitting a button for each characteristic once. But when I get to Energy, the most important level to fill (it keeps track of how many energy you need to "perform" these "jobs"), I click ... and then the goddamn modem goes on the fritz. It's done that a lot the past several days -- it doesn't go bad for minutes at a time, just enough that the little disc in the computer icon on the lower right-hand side of the screen disappears. Everything freezes.
When it happened just when I hit the Energy button, it was, like, the seventh or eighth time it did that in the last five or ten minutes. It usually didn't last more than 30 seconds. However, this one did. I was starting to lose it.
So when the little disc finally reappeared, signalling a reconnection with the Internet, I figured the button didn't take and I would have to hit it again. The Energy showed 202 when it should have been 203, so I hit it again. But then I looked over at the number of points/chips I still had left over.
If I had 20, have five characteristics to fill and was only going to advance each characteristic by one, then I should only have 15 left over by the time I'm done. And since Energy is fourth on the list, I should see a "+16." But I saw a "+15" -- the game did take the button the first time. I had hit it twice. I had raised my Energy bar by two, not one.
And it is really pissing me off. I had these plans that were fucked up because of that goddamn modem downstairs?! Ugh!!! So now that I can't "spend some quality time" at 203 Energy, the only thing I could do is keep my levels even by adding a second point/chip to all the other ones. I have thus advanced every bar by 2 when I didn't want to.
I know it's silly, but that fucking shit is driving me up a wall.
Moreover, I have this thing where I only spend points/chips when I have five or more, because I have five characteristics from which to spend them on (Energy, Stamina, Defense, two others), and want to evenly raise them at one time. Moreover, I will only raise them by one at a pop; I just have this thing where my character needs to, for lack of a better word, "pay his dues" at one level at a time, at least for a little bit.
Guess I've played a lot without spending them to improve my character, because I literally have "performed" so many "jobs" that I had 20 just now. It was time to cash in on the points/chips, so I went to the improve your character page and I started lifting my levels by a point/chip.
All it takes is hitting a button for each characteristic once. But when I get to Energy, the most important level to fill (it keeps track of how many energy you need to "perform" these "jobs"), I click ... and then the goddamn modem goes on the fritz. It's done that a lot the past several days -- it doesn't go bad for minutes at a time, just enough that the little disc in the computer icon on the lower right-hand side of the screen disappears. Everything freezes.
When it happened just when I hit the Energy button, it was, like, the seventh or eighth time it did that in the last five or ten minutes. It usually didn't last more than 30 seconds. However, this one did. I was starting to lose it.
So when the little disc finally reappeared, signalling a reconnection with the Internet, I figured the button didn't take and I would have to hit it again. The Energy showed 202 when it should have been 203, so I hit it again. But then I looked over at the number of points/chips I still had left over.
If I had 20, have five characteristics to fill and was only going to advance each characteristic by one, then I should only have 15 left over by the time I'm done. And since Energy is fourth on the list, I should see a "+16." But I saw a "+15" -- the game did take the button the first time. I had hit it twice. I had raised my Energy bar by two, not one.
And it is really pissing me off. I had these plans that were fucked up because of that goddamn modem downstairs?! Ugh!!! So now that I can't "spend some quality time" at 203 Energy, the only thing I could do is keep my levels even by adding a second point/chip to all the other ones. I have thus advanced every bar by 2 when I didn't want to.
I know it's silly, but that fucking shit is driving me up a wall.
Friday, January 28, 2011
I Can't Drive 40
General Motors says that almost 80% of Americans drive less than 40 miles each day. That fact bothers me, because I almost always drive more than that every day. With gas prices above three bucks a gallon for the past month or so, and with no sign in the future that they're going down, that takes a toll on my budget.
Today was one of those rare days where I had things to do, but they were all close to home, so I should have been able to get under 40 miles. I was planning on working out at the community activities center, but even with that sort-of-long commute, I still should have stayed under 40.
Well, two things happened. First, I didn't go straight home after the gym, like I usually do. I was ... in a mood tonight. A lot of things contributed to that:
The second thing that happened was that I let my car cool off while eating at the restaurant. They usually say you need to drive your car ten miles to sufficiently burn off all the impurities in the oil in your car, otherwise you risk damaging your engine. Well, I looked at my odometer when I drove off the parking lot; I had about 35 miles on it. I didn't want to do ten because I really, really wanted to say I drove under 40 for the day, but I will drive a little.
So instead of going straight home I pass it up. This is something I do a lot after eating at this place: Drive down Highway 10 for a bit, marvel at how I hit all green lights this time of night, then get on the left-turn lane, turn around, and then drive back home, engine sufficiently hot. I needed to make sure I didn't go over 40, so I picked an intersection and turned around.
Oh-oh. I clicked my settings to "Trip B," which keeps a daily record of my miles traveled. While getting home, it was getting perilously close to my self-imposed limit: 39.0, 39.1, 39.2. ... I didn't know one-tenth of a mile goes by so quickly.
I needed to make one more left turn, then another left onto my driveway, and I'd be home free, mission fulfilled. I thought that if I took that initial left when the odometer said 39.8, I had a chance. How did it get so close? How did I let it get so close? But it rolled to 39.9 just before the left. At the rate the tenths-miles racked up, I was going to miss 40.0 by thatmuch. And sure enough, when I finally parked the car in the garage, I punched up the "Trip B" odometer (I was so sure I'd miss it I didn't want to see it roll past 40.0, I was so ashamed). It read 40.1.
Why didn't I take the previous left turn? I fail.
Today was one of those rare days where I had things to do, but they were all close to home, so I should have been able to get under 40 miles. I was planning on working out at the community activities center, but even with that sort-of-long commute, I still should have stayed under 40.
Well, two things happened. First, I didn't go straight home after the gym, like I usually do. I was ... in a mood tonight. A lot of things contributed to that:
- There were four people in the fitness room when I came in. Lately I've seen it a lot more crowded for more days than before. People trying to stick to their New Year's Resolutions, I guess. But I thought they would drop out by about now, and so far, they're hanging tough. Therefore, I'm bummed that I have the gym less to myself, at least for now.
- Letterman and Fallon are in reruns for the week. There are few things better in my life right now than going home and getting into late-night TV. But if it's in reruns, the jokes are outdated, and there might be a chance I've seen the interviews already. No need to rush home in this case.
- Didn't know till this evening there was a fairly important west coast game on ESPN2 at 10: Gonzaga hosting St. Mary's. Thinking about doing a write-up about the Zags, who are in mighty big danger of not getting into the Big Dance this year. The school that blazed a trail for mid-majors achieving massive success in football as well as basketball may see their sun set on them? Good enough to stay out and watch on cable, at least for a little bit.
The second thing that happened was that I let my car cool off while eating at the restaurant. They usually say you need to drive your car ten miles to sufficiently burn off all the impurities in the oil in your car, otherwise you risk damaging your engine. Well, I looked at my odometer when I drove off the parking lot; I had about 35 miles on it. I didn't want to do ten because I really, really wanted to say I drove under 40 for the day, but I will drive a little.
So instead of going straight home I pass it up. This is something I do a lot after eating at this place: Drive down Highway 10 for a bit, marvel at how I hit all green lights this time of night, then get on the left-turn lane, turn around, and then drive back home, engine sufficiently hot. I needed to make sure I didn't go over 40, so I picked an intersection and turned around.
Oh-oh. I clicked my settings to "Trip B," which keeps a daily record of my miles traveled. While getting home, it was getting perilously close to my self-imposed limit: 39.0, 39.1, 39.2. ... I didn't know one-tenth of a mile goes by so quickly.
I needed to make one more left turn, then another left onto my driveway, and I'd be home free, mission fulfilled. I thought that if I took that initial left when the odometer said 39.8, I had a chance. How did it get so close? How did I let it get so close? But it rolled to 39.9 just before the left. At the rate the tenths-miles racked up, I was going to miss 40.0 by thatmuch. And sure enough, when I finally parked the car in the garage, I punched up the "Trip B" odometer (I was so sure I'd miss it I didn't want to see it roll past 40.0, I was so ashamed). It read 40.1.
Why didn't I take the previous left turn? I fail.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
So during dinner last night, and without any underlying causes or agendas that I know of, Father, out of the blue, turns from the TV and says to me, "You know, with someone who hasn't had a job in a long time, it's like a house; you see that house that's been on sale for a long time and you say, 'Geez, why hasn't that house been sold yet? Something wrong with it?'"
And that was it.
Geez, I haven't had a job in a long time. Could he be talking to ... me???
So I got caught. I "got him back" by staying out late last night.
And that was it.
Geez, I haven't had a job in a long time. Could he be talking to ... me???
So I got caught. I "got him back" by staying out late last night.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Today Was Such A Bad Day
All I wanted to do was sneak out and watch True Grit. I'll admit that I'm bitching a bit much for this blog post because I've been watching films for the past several Tuesday afternoons without incident. But I really didn't need the shit I got today.
---
First of all, I'm surprised to say this, but True Grit may be the only 2010 film I would give an A to. It's the rarest of things, namely a straightforward Coen Brothers movie. But it's a great one, one without all the weird, Patton Oswalt-like tangents that sometimes throw me out of interest. Hallie Steinfeld, as the 14-year-old little girl/protagonist/avenger for her father's murder, is excellent, a headstrong girl who chooses to be wise beyond her years and still has no idea that going out on a bounty hunt will change her life in ways she couldn't imagine. I hope this isn't a stretch; I see a lot of To Kill A Mockingbird in this version of True Grit.
Very sizable crowd for a Tuesday afternoon, so I make sure I put my phone on silent. Either because I was too rapt by the movie or I didn't think anybody would call me during the movie because that hasn't happened the past several times, I didn't check till it was over. I pick up my phone, and luckily, I saw the slow pulsing blue light of my Motorola. I just got a phone before it switched to voicemail.
It was Grandmother. Before I left, she said she wanted me to buy something for her, but she forgot, but she'll call me if she remembers. But that wasn't why she called. From what I could piece together, she said that the assessment nurse, the one who was here with Grandmother, her translator and me, had called my folks, saying that forms she left for me for Mother to sign needed to be in soon ... like today -- and, if convenient for us, she would drop by the house later this afternoon to pick it up.
Now, I don't remember there being a deadline for signatures for these forms. I knew I couldn't wait on them forever, but I figured I'd get to them later in the week, or even next week. So what's the rush? Besides, if the nurse wanted them soon (I think she said they needed to be in before the end of the month, therefore they needed to be processed by Friday, therefore this is the latest date they are sure to be processed without any potential hiccup in getting paid), why not give me a day so I can get Mother to sign them that night?
After I hang up I realize that my phone was blowing up during the film. I had five, count 'em, 5 missed calls, a new all-time record for me. Two of them were unknown, and I know what that means: My fucking parents called and left angry voicemails.
So I dart out of the theater and into a bathroom stall to get my lies straight -- I am at work. First I call Father, who wasn't too pissed, and he just said to call Mother. She said basically what Grandmother told me. She got on my case -- "What the hell's going on? Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" -- but me being at work was a good-enough excuse for not tending to this situation untiil now.
I had plans to dink around the mall adjacent to the movie theater a little bit, then go home, clear the snowbank so I could see around the driveway, then go get coffee and do some writing. Fuck all that. Instead, I need to go home, retrieve those papers, drive downtown, get Mother to sign said papers, drive all the way up to the county offices (I didn't know if I had the time to just sit on my ass and wait for the assessment nurse to come at 4:30 like she said), hand them to her, and then ... well, I didn't know what my plans would be at that point. But I brought my laptop with me just in case I needed to get online.
Mother didn't yell at me too much, only asked if I had somehow brought the papers with me to "work"; I didn't, and she gave a quick "huh!" because I had to go home first, thus wasting gas. Father wanted to let me know to order a birthday cake for my brother and to cook a bowl of rice for all of us to eat for dinner. And I was gone. No yelling -- phew!
---
It was while heading north to the government offices when I checked how many miles I drove that day. My odometer, which is completey electronic, has two trip settings. I use the first setting to keep track of how many miles I drive between completely filling up my gas tank; I reset the second one each day so I know how many miles I drive daily. I was getting to 70 miles. I was all over the Twin Cities' northern half today, not just downtown; I went to Uptown to pick up a ticket to this Saturday's Swarm /Minnesota Roller Girls twinbill before swinging out to the theater. And, knowing that I wanted to work out, I was going to get very, very close to 100 for the day. That's like driving to St. Cloud one-way.
With all the gas I'm using up/wasting, I'm really thinking I just have to stay home one of these days to make up for it. Maybe Friday, when we're having pork.
---
So I get to the government offices for my county; good thing about Main Street USA: You can park on the side of the street without needing to feed a meter. I get to the office and ask for the assessment nurse; she tells me she left for the day. Now, this is around 3:30, an hour before she volunteered to drop by the house and pick up these forms she so desperately needed today. Unless I was chewing on marbles and didn't make myself clear in my phone call to her, I think I told her I would be here. But she wasn't.
The receptionist volunteered instead to ask her co-worker/cubiclemate to come out, take my forms and place them on her desk. I agreed and waited. And waited. And waited. I looked at the clock on the wall -- 3:50?!?!?! I had to ask the receptionist what was taking her so long. After another call, this co-worker/cubiclemate finally came out. She said my assessment nurse had to run. OK, but she better not be showing up at my house.
---
The final indignity came after I got done leaving the county offices. Because I waited there so long, I got to the coffeeshop at around a quarter after 4. I promised My Father that I'd be home at 4:30 to cook the rice. Whatever.
Anyway, I proceeded to park the car at the strip mall where the coffeehouse was. But there was no space! Jigga-wha'? I did another loop around to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. They weren't; a combination of the piles of snow and the drivers of those parked cars not giving a damn of where the parking lines are squeezed out any of the available spaces I could have used to park and get the damn fine coffee I was so craving at that moment.
That was the final straw. I thought about parking at the adjacent lot, the grocery store. But I didn't want to, wah!!! because my feet are killing me and I don't want to walk around snow and across a street just for fuckin' coffee. I felt so ... betrayed by these fucking parking space hogs that I gave up. I am always the one going out for coffee, always for staying out. This day, at least, I decided to go home early.
I still had time to do one of the tasks I wanted to do, either clearing the snowbank or writing. But I was too fucking tired. All that driving and running around, plus I think I was coming down with something. That's what I get for wearing a thin sweater into a movie theater. So fuck all tasks; I changed clothes and went to bed, hoping to pass out for as long as possible. Of course, knowing my luck today, I'd be interrupted by the assessment nurse who did come down to pick up the forms. And I changed into my pajamas; after I yell at her for not understanding what I said over the phone, she'd go, "Hey, why are you in your pj's? You don't live here, do you? This is not your home address!" And then I'd be in a shitload of trouble.
But luckily for me, she didn't come. Finally, something that went my way.
---
First of all, I'm surprised to say this, but True Grit may be the only 2010 film I would give an A to. It's the rarest of things, namely a straightforward Coen Brothers movie. But it's a great one, one without all the weird, Patton Oswalt-like tangents that sometimes throw me out of interest. Hallie Steinfeld, as the 14-year-old little girl/protagonist/avenger for her father's murder, is excellent, a headstrong girl who chooses to be wise beyond her years and still has no idea that going out on a bounty hunt will change her life in ways she couldn't imagine. I hope this isn't a stretch; I see a lot of To Kill A Mockingbird in this version of True Grit.
Very sizable crowd for a Tuesday afternoon, so I make sure I put my phone on silent. Either because I was too rapt by the movie or I didn't think anybody would call me during the movie because that hasn't happened the past several times, I didn't check till it was over. I pick up my phone, and luckily, I saw the slow pulsing blue light of my Motorola. I just got a phone before it switched to voicemail.
It was Grandmother. Before I left, she said she wanted me to buy something for her, but she forgot, but she'll call me if she remembers. But that wasn't why she called. From what I could piece together, she said that the assessment nurse, the one who was here with Grandmother, her translator and me, had called my folks, saying that forms she left for me for Mother to sign needed to be in soon ... like today -- and, if convenient for us, she would drop by the house later this afternoon to pick it up.
Now, I don't remember there being a deadline for signatures for these forms. I knew I couldn't wait on them forever, but I figured I'd get to them later in the week, or even next week. So what's the rush? Besides, if the nurse wanted them soon (I think she said they needed to be in before the end of the month, therefore they needed to be processed by Friday, therefore this is the latest date they are sure to be processed without any potential hiccup in getting paid), why not give me a day so I can get Mother to sign them that night?
After I hang up I realize that my phone was blowing up during the film. I had five, count 'em, 5 missed calls, a new all-time record for me. Two of them were unknown, and I know what that means: My fucking parents called and left angry voicemails.
So I dart out of the theater and into a bathroom stall to get my lies straight -- I am at work. First I call Father, who wasn't too pissed, and he just said to call Mother. She said basically what Grandmother told me. She got on my case -- "What the hell's going on? Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" -- but me being at work was a good-enough excuse for not tending to this situation untiil now.
I had plans to dink around the mall adjacent to the movie theater a little bit, then go home, clear the snowbank so I could see around the driveway, then go get coffee and do some writing. Fuck all that. Instead, I need to go home, retrieve those papers, drive downtown, get Mother to sign said papers, drive all the way up to the county offices (I didn't know if I had the time to just sit on my ass and wait for the assessment nurse to come at 4:30 like she said), hand them to her, and then ... well, I didn't know what my plans would be at that point. But I brought my laptop with me just in case I needed to get online.
Mother didn't yell at me too much, only asked if I had somehow brought the papers with me to "work"; I didn't, and she gave a quick "huh!" because I had to go home first, thus wasting gas. Father wanted to let me know to order a birthday cake for my brother and to cook a bowl of rice for all of us to eat for dinner. And I was gone. No yelling -- phew!
---
It was while heading north to the government offices when I checked how many miles I drove that day. My odometer, which is completey electronic, has two trip settings. I use the first setting to keep track of how many miles I drive between completely filling up my gas tank; I reset the second one each day so I know how many miles I drive daily. I was getting to 70 miles. I was all over the Twin Cities' northern half today, not just downtown; I went to Uptown to pick up a ticket to this Saturday's Swarm /Minnesota Roller Girls twinbill before swinging out to the theater. And, knowing that I wanted to work out, I was going to get very, very close to 100 for the day. That's like driving to St. Cloud one-way.
With all the gas I'm using up/wasting, I'm really thinking I just have to stay home one of these days to make up for it. Maybe Friday, when we're having pork.
---
So I get to the government offices for my county; good thing about Main Street USA: You can park on the side of the street without needing to feed a meter. I get to the office and ask for the assessment nurse; she tells me she left for the day. Now, this is around 3:30, an hour before she volunteered to drop by the house and pick up these forms she so desperately needed today. Unless I was chewing on marbles and didn't make myself clear in my phone call to her, I think I told her I would be here. But she wasn't.
The receptionist volunteered instead to ask her co-worker/cubiclemate to come out, take my forms and place them on her desk. I agreed and waited. And waited. And waited. I looked at the clock on the wall -- 3:50?!?!?! I had to ask the receptionist what was taking her so long. After another call, this co-worker/cubiclemate finally came out. She said my assessment nurse had to run. OK, but she better not be showing up at my house.
---
The final indignity came after I got done leaving the county offices. Because I waited there so long, I got to the coffeeshop at around a quarter after 4. I promised My Father that I'd be home at 4:30 to cook the rice. Whatever.
Anyway, I proceeded to park the car at the strip mall where the coffeehouse was. But there was no space! Jigga-wha'? I did another loop around to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. They weren't; a combination of the piles of snow and the drivers of those parked cars not giving a damn of where the parking lines are squeezed out any of the available spaces I could have used to park and get the damn fine coffee I was so craving at that moment.
That was the final straw. I thought about parking at the adjacent lot, the grocery store. But I didn't want to, wah!!! because my feet are killing me and I don't want to walk around snow and across a street just for fuckin' coffee. I felt so ... betrayed by these fucking parking space hogs that I gave up. I am always the one going out for coffee, always for staying out. This day, at least, I decided to go home early.
I still had time to do one of the tasks I wanted to do, either clearing the snowbank or writing. But I was too fucking tired. All that driving and running around, plus I think I was coming down with something. That's what I get for wearing a thin sweater into a movie theater. So fuck all tasks; I changed clothes and went to bed, hoping to pass out for as long as possible. Of course, knowing my luck today, I'd be interrupted by the assessment nurse who did come down to pick up the forms. And I changed into my pajamas; after I yell at her for not understanding what I said over the phone, she'd go, "Hey, why are you in your pj's? You don't live here, do you? This is not your home address!" And then I'd be in a shitload of trouble.
But luckily for me, she didn't come. Finally, something that went my way.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
This happened yesterday. I really need to post the shit that happened today, but I don't have much time before the day's out, so I'll relay this quick story:
It was the thing I alluded to Sunday, about the thing my sister wanted me to send her. It was a holiday card brought to my attention by Mother. She wanted me to scan it, then send the card's image to my sis. But I didn't do it, at least not immediately, because to me, it was just a holiday card. I didn't think too much of it.
But then on Sunday, Mother had the audacity to ask her if she got it. She didn't, and so Mother told my sister to ask me why. Now, I still don't think it's much of a big deal, but I confessed to my sister that I didn't scan it (even though I told Mother I thought I did to make sure she wasn't on my ass). And so on Sunday night I was looking everywhere for it. No luck.
I started to feel remorseful that night. Thinking back on it, maybe I should have sent that card her way. It may be a formality, but it's not as if I've ignored other cards sent to her. I don't really remember scan-and-sending any either, but if this was the first, there's no reason the precedent that this should be sent should not be made. And then I thought how I would've felt if I didn't get a Christmas card someone promised to send me.
Season Affective Disorder really started to kick in Monday morning. Felt like shit, didn't want to do anything except stay in bed all day. But losing that Christmas card really, really brought me down. But then ... well, I didn't really look through the letters on my nightstand completely enough. And then, I found it! I really thought I had just left it downstairs because it wasn't my Christmas card, but apparently I had enough foresight to take it upstairs with me just in case!
I scanned it, sent with an e-mail of apology to my sister, and even though it wasn't the Christmas card she was expecting, she was still glad to have it. Phew! Crisis averted. I'm glad I had the opportunity to make up for it.
It was the thing I alluded to Sunday, about the thing my sister wanted me to send her. It was a holiday card brought to my attention by Mother. She wanted me to scan it, then send the card's image to my sis. But I didn't do it, at least not immediately, because to me, it was just a holiday card. I didn't think too much of it.
But then on Sunday, Mother had the audacity to ask her if she got it. She didn't, and so Mother told my sister to ask me why. Now, I still don't think it's much of a big deal, but I confessed to my sister that I didn't scan it (even though I told Mother I thought I did to make sure she wasn't on my ass). And so on Sunday night I was looking everywhere for it. No luck.
I started to feel remorseful that night. Thinking back on it, maybe I should have sent that card her way. It may be a formality, but it's not as if I've ignored other cards sent to her. I don't really remember scan-and-sending any either, but if this was the first, there's no reason the precedent that this should be sent should not be made. And then I thought how I would've felt if I didn't get a Christmas card someone promised to send me.
Season Affective Disorder really started to kick in Monday morning. Felt like shit, didn't want to do anything except stay in bed all day. But losing that Christmas card really, really brought me down. But then ... well, I didn't really look through the letters on my nightstand completely enough. And then, I found it! I really thought I had just left it downstairs because it wasn't my Christmas card, but apparently I had enough foresight to take it upstairs with me just in case!
I scanned it, sent with an e-mail of apology to my sister, and even though it wasn't the Christmas card she was expecting, she was still glad to have it. Phew! Crisis averted. I'm glad I had the opportunity to make up for it.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Father And His Goddamn Mindgames Again
So I tried to do some housework, specfically wiping down the plant leaves. But it was really warm in my bed and there was hockey on, so I rolled out of bed just in time to be up and at 'em at around the time I thought my parents would be home so they would see that I was working.
Then my Grandmother wakes up and sees the pail I'm toting around. So she panicks and decides to give the floor a quick mopping, which is where I'm at, so I just quit. When she's done, I'm still up, so I decide to break out the pail again, but before I do that I need to piss, and when I was on the toilet I hear the front door open.
Mother came through the front with jugs of water I took downstairs. But Father? My Father didn't come in yet. He was outside; I saw him with a shovel. Oh shit. You see, with all the snow we've been having, somehow the tallest parts of the snowbank on both sides of our driveway is at the very end, so that if you're backing down to leave, you won't be able to see either side of the street. You would have to reverse very, very slowly to make sure someone sees you in order not to get hit. I've meant to clear that part of the snowbank for a long time because whenever I back out of the driveway I'm blind to the street when I should be able to see, and I think, "Goddamn." But I never did. Apparently it was enough to bother My Fucking Father.
So that meant that he's got it in for me, which means I needed to keep it quiet, even defensive, when he wants to talk to me. And it looked like my fears were well-founded when he banged on the door to give me the phone without speaking to me (sister called; more on that later). So I start setting the table for Sunday dinner and I turn the TV on; the NFC Championship Game, the one between Green Bay and Chicago, is on. "Is it on now?" Father said, and from his tone of voice I'm pretty sure he's sincere and isn't softening me up so that he could verbally lower the boom on me for not clearing the snowbank that he busted his ass doing just now. I give it about ten seconds before replying, "It's in the third quarter now, Father." And he didn't snap at me then. Whew.
Spoke too soon. For some fucking reason, as I was about to pass out in my bedroom, he whispers, quietly, something at me. I am conditioned to go back and lean in to hear what he's repeating: "I've got a new bottle of dressing, Is there enough in the old one?" And before I could say, "I don't know," he blurts out, "Go check." And when I reach into the fridge (which he was closer to than I, so why couldn't he fucking check it?) to show him, he waves he hands at me, saying in that condescending tone of voice, "Put it on the table, don't show it to me." You wanted me to check so I showed it to you. Asshole. Now I don't feel guilty for retreating back into my room without doing any chores. And I snapped at him after he snapped at me for giving Grandmother her insulin shots right after he knocks outside my room for dinner and right before we begin eating. It's insulin -- it has to be taken just before, not an hour before. Psssh.
But then, for dinner, he gets all nicey-nice on me, talking about football and shit. He even makes me stand up and put my hand over my heart because we were watching the National Anthem for the AFC Championship Game between Pittsburgh and the Jets. And then, after dinner, he seemed a bit upset that I was watching the game on TV and I made him replace the bag in the trash can.
I don't know. His threats again over going back to school is really weighing on me.
Or, I could be paranoid.
Then my Grandmother wakes up and sees the pail I'm toting around. So she panicks and decides to give the floor a quick mopping, which is where I'm at, so I just quit. When she's done, I'm still up, so I decide to break out the pail again, but before I do that I need to piss, and when I was on the toilet I hear the front door open.
Mother came through the front with jugs of water I took downstairs. But Father? My Father didn't come in yet. He was outside; I saw him with a shovel. Oh shit. You see, with all the snow we've been having, somehow the tallest parts of the snowbank on both sides of our driveway is at the very end, so that if you're backing down to leave, you won't be able to see either side of the street. You would have to reverse very, very slowly to make sure someone sees you in order not to get hit. I've meant to clear that part of the snowbank for a long time because whenever I back out of the driveway I'm blind to the street when I should be able to see, and I think, "Goddamn." But I never did. Apparently it was enough to bother My Fucking Father.
So that meant that he's got it in for me, which means I needed to keep it quiet, even defensive, when he wants to talk to me. And it looked like my fears were well-founded when he banged on the door to give me the phone without speaking to me (sister called; more on that later). So I start setting the table for Sunday dinner and I turn the TV on; the NFC Championship Game, the one between Green Bay and Chicago, is on. "Is it on now?" Father said, and from his tone of voice I'm pretty sure he's sincere and isn't softening me up so that he could verbally lower the boom on me for not clearing the snowbank that he busted his ass doing just now. I give it about ten seconds before replying, "It's in the third quarter now, Father." And he didn't snap at me then. Whew.
Spoke too soon. For some fucking reason, as I was about to pass out in my bedroom, he whispers, quietly, something at me. I am conditioned to go back and lean in to hear what he's repeating: "I've got a new bottle of dressing, Is there enough in the old one?" And before I could say, "I don't know," he blurts out, "Go check." And when I reach into the fridge (which he was closer to than I, so why couldn't he fucking check it?) to show him, he waves he hands at me, saying in that condescending tone of voice, "Put it on the table, don't show it to me." You wanted me to check so I showed it to you. Asshole. Now I don't feel guilty for retreating back into my room without doing any chores. And I snapped at him after he snapped at me for giving Grandmother her insulin shots right after he knocks outside my room for dinner and right before we begin eating. It's insulin -- it has to be taken just before, not an hour before. Psssh.
But then, for dinner, he gets all nicey-nice on me, talking about football and shit. He even makes me stand up and put my hand over my heart because we were watching the National Anthem for the AFC Championship Game between Pittsburgh and the Jets. And then, after dinner, he seemed a bit upset that I was watching the game on TV and I made him replace the bag in the trash can.
I don't know. His threats again over going back to school is really weighing on me.
Or, I could be paranoid.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Just tried to connect to the Internet. After getting my start page, the connection disconnected.
I thought it was the usual winter hiccups associated with the modem being connected to some old, bad wiring. But after several minutes I decided to go back downstairs.
Turns out the modem was unplugged. Thing is, when I came home about an hour ago, I specifically checked the modem, and it was plugged in. Swear to it. (Or, maybe I'm paranoid.)
That means there's only one explanation: My Fucking Father heard me come home, was pissed that I was out so late, and decided to send the message that I should be going to bed now. Even though I'm paying for the Internet in this goddamn house.
This current river of bad blood started yesterday. I've been working out most of the past two weeks, including last night, even though it was snowing. After dinner I was hanging out in our too-small kitchen waiting to take the garbage outside. Mother, seeing me, said, "You're not going out again, are you?" She then warned me about getting mugged like some black dude on the news we were just watching.
Then My Fucking Father chimed in: "You waste your time drinking coffee. It's been ten years since you were back in school. I think you could have completed three doctor's degrees." First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, he doesn't know what it takes to get a doctorate. And third of all, the reason I'm not in school is because I want to do what I want to do, and right now, going back to school is not what I want to do. I really do want to make them happy, but if doing that means suffering through a decade's worth of an education I don't want to pursue for myself, fuck it, I ain't doing it.
He started in on me because all this week I've been out enjoying coffee before going home for dinner. What was different this week was my parents were coming home a lot earlier than usual, so two or three times this week My Fucking Father was calling me right around the time I was at the coffeeshop, including Friday. When I told him over the phone what I was doing -- goddamn, I should have lied -- he got angry, although he didn't unleash it until he had an opportune moment, the cowardly prick.
So now what? I have to blog on MySpace. Guess I'll go back downstairs and unplug the modem after I'm done, even if I have to do it at five in the morning. Gotta keep the peace in the home 'cause I don't have the means to move out.
I thought it was the usual winter hiccups associated with the modem being connected to some old, bad wiring. But after several minutes I decided to go back downstairs.
Turns out the modem was unplugged. Thing is, when I came home about an hour ago, I specifically checked the modem, and it was plugged in. Swear to it. (Or, maybe I'm paranoid.)
That means there's only one explanation: My Fucking Father heard me come home, was pissed that I was out so late, and decided to send the message that I should be going to bed now. Even though I'm paying for the Internet in this goddamn house.
This current river of bad blood started yesterday. I've been working out most of the past two weeks, including last night, even though it was snowing. After dinner I was hanging out in our too-small kitchen waiting to take the garbage outside. Mother, seeing me, said, "You're not going out again, are you?" She then warned me about getting mugged like some black dude on the news we were just watching.
Then My Fucking Father chimed in: "You waste your time drinking coffee. It's been ten years since you were back in school. I think you could have completed three doctor's degrees." First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, he doesn't know what it takes to get a doctorate. And third of all, the reason I'm not in school is because I want to do what I want to do, and right now, going back to school is not what I want to do. I really do want to make them happy, but if doing that means suffering through a decade's worth of an education I don't want to pursue for myself, fuck it, I ain't doing it.
He started in on me because all this week I've been out enjoying coffee before going home for dinner. What was different this week was my parents were coming home a lot earlier than usual, so two or three times this week My Fucking Father was calling me right around the time I was at the coffeeshop, including Friday. When I told him over the phone what I was doing -- goddamn, I should have lied -- he got angry, although he didn't unleash it until he had an opportune moment, the cowardly prick.
So now what? I have to blog on MySpace. Guess I'll go back downstairs and unplug the modem after I'm done, even if I have to do it at five in the morning. Gotta keep the peace in the home 'cause I don't have the means to move out.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#0: Wild (Last Week: -7). Holy shit. A week after they went 0-3 -- which was right after ripping off four wins in a row -- they go and turn in yet another clean sheet, namely a 3-0 week. They rise above negative numbers because of three astounding factors: Two of the three wins were on the road; all three victories came against the three Canadian teams in the Northwest Division; and the Wild outscored Vancouver, Edmonton and Calgary by a combined total of 14-1. Boom-and-bust teams rarely make for Stanley Cup champions, but I'm beginning to appreciate the wild ride this rollercoaster is taking me.
Individually, Brent Burns is still making solid inroads into becoming a factor in games. And Anton Khudobin has stepped in admirably as the third member of the goaltending corps as Niklas Backstrom and Jose Theodore recover from their injuries. Khudobin was one Oiler goal away from getting back-to-back shutouts, impressive for a second-year man. (By the way, I've heard the name "Khudobin" pronounced with a soft first syllable -- almost "hhhhhu." Thus, that makes me think of this when I hear "Khudobin" pronounced that way. Don't know why exactly.)
Fortunately for the Wild, this recent spurt has finally propelled them up the ranks in the Western Conference; as of this moment, they are tied with St. Louis in ninth place, one point behind both Colorado and defending Stanley Cup Champs Chicago for seventh (!). They have two games this week before the All-Star break, at San Jose and at Chicago. The squad won the last two games on the road; maybe this is a good sign?
#-1: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A 2-0 week. First, they completed the sweep of UMD, a team that was ranked above them (until this week's poll, of course), by shutting them out at Ridder, 3-0. Then, even though it was on the road against inferior competition, and they were down versus Ohio St. in the third period, the Gophs scored three goals in less than four minutes to defeat the Buckeyes, 4-2. Pounding good teams at home, comebacks against bad teams on the road -- those are two signs of a confident contender. Now, they just have to win championships. They finish up their series against Ohio St. this (Saturday) afternoon, then start a series at top-ranked Wisconsin Friday evening.
#-2: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -5). Tonight at the gym was the first time I ever saw extended parts of a college wrestling meet on TV. It was Wisconsin hosting Nebraska on the Big Ten Network. I am further interested now that I saw the Badgers win; I should go to a Gopher game. Anyway, the grapplers take a pair of away duals against teams ranked way below them, Iowa St. (my, have they fallen off ever since Cael Sanderson left to coach Penn St.) and Purdue. Interesting note off the mat: It was announced Wednesday that Head Coach J Robinson signed a multi-year contract with the U. Not an extension per se -- a contract. It's the first time ever in Robinson's career that he has signed a contract for more than a year, apparently. Weird. Well, if he wants that security, I think Athletic Director Joel Maturi has the right to not expect more embarrassing controversies like last year's real estate surprise. On Sunday, Minnesota once again visits a team ranked, but not as high as them: Illinois.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Easily dispatching Iowa at the Barn Sunday. Fran McCaffrey was probably better off staying at Siena instead of taking the easy money and joining the Big Ten, the conference several people say is the best this year. We'll see. At least it seems assured they're making the NCAA Tournament. This week: at Michigan tonight (Saturday night), vs. Northwestern Wednesday.
#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -1). The Gophs couldn't complete the shock sweep at second-ranked North Dakota; the Fighting Sioux retained their #2 this week by taking out Minnesota 4-1 Saturday to split the only series these two bitter archrivals have this year. This week they start their series against Alaska-Anchorage at Mariucci. (Note: I thought there would be enough of a gap between the UND and UAA series to leave this program off of next week's WMNSS, but I saw that this week they had only one game at the beginning of the week, and next week they qualify because they'll play only one game at the end of the week. Two games, 13 days apart, and because they cover the first and last days of this particular two-week stretch, I have to rank them both weeks, and thus they don't get a week off. That's a note that, upon looking back after typing, is interesting only to me.)
#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). Goddamn, what a pooch-screwing this was. I watched part of the team's game at home against Wisconsin Thursday. They got off to a fast start and led at halftime by 14. And then the Badgers sagged into the lane, the Gophs couldn't hit from outside for about eight minutes, and Wisky outscored the U. 41-19 in the second half to register the second-biggest comeback in program history, 71-63. To see the Badgers' point total creep up while not seeing the Gophers' number move at all was infuriating. I saw the and-one which gave Wisconsin the lead for good with 4:37 left in the game and I thought, "Fuck." And to think that I had a passing thought of going to this game. Good thing I didn't.
This team is now 0-6 in Big Ten play. This program made the Final Four in 2004, seven years ago. And unlike the men's Final Four, this one is sticking. And now they're dead last in the conference? What the fuck?! This week: at Michigan St., then home to Northwestern.
#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). I really, really wanted to give the ass slot in this week's survey to the Gopher lady hoopsters, but an 0-3 week pretty much guarantees the bottom of the dungheap. None of the opponents slouches, but the Woofie Dogs weren't competitive against either Orlando, Portland or the Clippers.
Britt Robson of SI.com (is this the same guy who used to write for City Pages?) recently handed out midseason grades for each team in the NBA. His C grade for, and the analysis of, the Timberwolves is informative; the Kevin Love-Michael Beasley-Darko Milicic frontcourt could be one of the ten best in the league, the backcourt (besides Luke Ridnour) blows, Jonny Flynn and Wesley Johnson are playing their way overseas, and they can't finish games worth shit.
Three games this week: home to Houston, home to the Bastard Seattle SuperSonics, at the Bastard New Orleans Jazz.
Individually, Brent Burns is still making solid inroads into becoming a factor in games. And Anton Khudobin has stepped in admirably as the third member of the goaltending corps as Niklas Backstrom and Jose Theodore recover from their injuries. Khudobin was one Oiler goal away from getting back-to-back shutouts, impressive for a second-year man. (By the way, I've heard the name "Khudobin" pronounced with a soft first syllable -- almost "hhhhhu." Thus, that makes me think of this when I hear "Khudobin" pronounced that way. Don't know why exactly.)
Fortunately for the Wild, this recent spurt has finally propelled them up the ranks in the Western Conference; as of this moment, they are tied with St. Louis in ninth place, one point behind both Colorado and defending Stanley Cup Champs Chicago for seventh (!). They have two games this week before the All-Star break, at San Jose and at Chicago. The squad won the last two games on the road; maybe this is a good sign?
#-1: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A 2-0 week. First, they completed the sweep of UMD, a team that was ranked above them (until this week's poll, of course), by shutting them out at Ridder, 3-0. Then, even though it was on the road against inferior competition, and they were down versus Ohio St. in the third period, the Gophs scored three goals in less than four minutes to defeat the Buckeyes, 4-2. Pounding good teams at home, comebacks against bad teams on the road -- those are two signs of a confident contender. Now, they just have to win championships. They finish up their series against Ohio St. this (Saturday) afternoon, then start a series at top-ranked Wisconsin Friday evening.
#-2: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -5). Tonight at the gym was the first time I ever saw extended parts of a college wrestling meet on TV. It was Wisconsin hosting Nebraska on the Big Ten Network. I am further interested now that I saw the Badgers win; I should go to a Gopher game. Anyway, the grapplers take a pair of away duals against teams ranked way below them, Iowa St. (my, have they fallen off ever since Cael Sanderson left to coach Penn St.) and Purdue. Interesting note off the mat: It was announced Wednesday that Head Coach J Robinson signed a multi-year contract with the U. Not an extension per se -- a contract. It's the first time ever in Robinson's career that he has signed a contract for more than a year, apparently. Weird. Well, if he wants that security, I think Athletic Director Joel Maturi has the right to not expect more embarrassing controversies like last year's real estate surprise. On Sunday, Minnesota once again visits a team ranked, but not as high as them: Illinois.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Easily dispatching Iowa at the Barn Sunday. Fran McCaffrey was probably better off staying at Siena instead of taking the easy money and joining the Big Ten, the conference several people say is the best this year. We'll see. At least it seems assured they're making the NCAA Tournament. This week: at Michigan tonight (Saturday night), vs. Northwestern Wednesday.
#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -1). The Gophs couldn't complete the shock sweep at second-ranked North Dakota; the Fighting Sioux retained their #2 this week by taking out Minnesota 4-1 Saturday to split the only series these two bitter archrivals have this year. This week they start their series against Alaska-Anchorage at Mariucci. (Note: I thought there would be enough of a gap between the UND and UAA series to leave this program off of next week's WMNSS, but I saw that this week they had only one game at the beginning of the week, and next week they qualify because they'll play only one game at the end of the week. Two games, 13 days apart, and because they cover the first and last days of this particular two-week stretch, I have to rank them both weeks, and thus they don't get a week off. That's a note that, upon looking back after typing, is interesting only to me.)
#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). Goddamn, what a pooch-screwing this was. I watched part of the team's game at home against Wisconsin Thursday. They got off to a fast start and led at halftime by 14. And then the Badgers sagged into the lane, the Gophs couldn't hit from outside for about eight minutes, and Wisky outscored the U. 41-19 in the second half to register the second-biggest comeback in program history, 71-63. To see the Badgers' point total creep up while not seeing the Gophers' number move at all was infuriating. I saw the and-one which gave Wisconsin the lead for good with 4:37 left in the game and I thought, "Fuck." And to think that I had a passing thought of going to this game. Good thing I didn't.
This team is now 0-6 in Big Ten play. This program made the Final Four in 2004, seven years ago. And unlike the men's Final Four, this one is sticking. And now they're dead last in the conference? What the fuck?! This week: at Michigan St., then home to Northwestern.
#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). I really, really wanted to give the ass slot in this week's survey to the Gopher lady hoopsters, but an 0-3 week pretty much guarantees the bottom of the dungheap. None of the opponents slouches, but the Woofie Dogs weren't competitive against either Orlando, Portland or the Clippers.
Britt Robson of SI.com (is this the same guy who used to write for City Pages?) recently handed out midseason grades for each team in the NBA. His C grade for, and the analysis of, the Timberwolves is informative; the Kevin Love-Michael Beasley-Darko Milicic frontcourt could be one of the ten best in the league, the backcourt (besides Luke Ridnour) blows, Jonny Flynn and Wesley Johnson are playing their way overseas, and they can't finish games worth shit.
Three games this week: home to Houston, home to the Bastard Seattle SuperSonics, at the Bastard New Orleans Jazz.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Sending My Father's Winning Sportsbook Tickets Tomorrow (?)
Mental note: I'm sending in Father's winning tickets on bets he made on games:
- There are ten tickets Father game me.
- Nine of them are winners; I'm only sending in those nine.
- Each of them were $100 wagers.
- All of them were spread bets; in other words, with odds of -110.
- That means that each ticket won $90.90.
- Therefore, each ticket is worth $190.90 (winnings plus original wager).
- All told, Father should receive a check for a total of $1,718.10.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Life Again On The Knife's Edge
I should be OK now that I've gotten more "work" at the lab, yet when I saw that prices for gas spiked two days ago, I freaked. They were already too fucking high, sitting on between $3.03 and $3.08 for seemingly weeks now. But after returning from the U. Tuesday afternoon, they immediately rose to about $3.19. What the fuck?
The worst part about this is, the last time (meaning the first time) gas prices shot up like this -- the first time the price of gas went past three bucks, as a matter of fact -- the news was all over this shit. Now, not so much. It's like they say about the adage of slowly boiling the pot so as not to scare the lobster inside it; once we're used to it, we don't give a shit. Even though worldwide demand in no way answers this sufficiently, even though too many people are still hurting because of the Great Recession.
I need to remain scared of this. Once again, my fears of financial insolvency appear concrete. And so I have to ration my entertainment. Can I go to My Favorite Stripclub as much as I want? How about the Boat Show -- should I go there instead? And if I'm going to St. Paul to see the Minnesota Rollergirls the next two Saturdays, where (or if) will I save on gas ... exercising at the gym?
Choices. In a more just world, choices I shouldn't have to make. Stupid gas prices. ...
The worst part about this is, the last time (meaning the first time) gas prices shot up like this -- the first time the price of gas went past three bucks, as a matter of fact -- the news was all over this shit. Now, not so much. It's like they say about the adage of slowly boiling the pot so as not to scare the lobster inside it; once we're used to it, we don't give a shit. Even though worldwide demand in no way answers this sufficiently, even though too many people are still hurting because of the Great Recession.
I need to remain scared of this. Once again, my fears of financial insolvency appear concrete. And so I have to ration my entertainment. Can I go to My Favorite Stripclub as much as I want? How about the Boat Show -- should I go there instead? And if I'm going to St. Paul to see the Minnesota Rollergirls the next two Saturdays, where (or if) will I save on gas ... exercising at the gym?
Choices. In a more just world, choices I shouldn't have to make. Stupid gas prices. ...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Best Commerical On The Air Right Now: Logitech Harmony, "Robot"
This ad gets to me so much, these days I have to flip the channel whenever I see it come on. It's the robot, just a sad little guy, trying to get by, and having all sorts of malfunctioning indignities get in his way. I become emotional whenever I see his eyes narrow near the end of the spot, the weight of the world crushing down on his shoulders. But then ... the remote control! With the push of a button, behold, his entertainment system, modern machinery that works!! And the robot's eyes widen again, unburdened because, yes, things are right with the world again!!!
I can't help it; this commercial (even though I think I've only seen the 30-second version) almost makes me cry every time.
I can't help it; this commercial (even though I think I've only seen the 30-second version) almost makes me cry every time.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
So My Father wanted me to sign up for Antiques Roadshow because it's hitting town this summer and he has a bunch of painting he wants appraised for free. I wanted to see Chuck, but that, along with a letter Mother wanted me to scan and send to my sister, plus the fact that I spent the first third of the hour taking a shit, and that was out the window. I'd be spending it tending to family Internet business, and then some more time dinkin' around the Internet after that.
I scan and send and sign up. While surfing, I think I hear someone try to turn the doorknob. I pause and turn around. It was really soft, subtle and quick, so I really thought I was hearing things. But My Father wanted me to do something and there's a chance he wanted to bother me about something before going to the bathroom to pee. Then again, I kept waiting for him, or for Mother (if that's who it was) to check the knob again or knock. No answer.
My attention has already been ripped away from the computer, so I might as well check. I slowly roll the chair to the door, then slowly get up and toward it. I then open, sort of thinking that I should peek around the corner in case the bathroom light was open; Father might've given up waiting for me to open the door and would just holler from the toilet. But the hallway was dark, and there was no light emanating from the bathroom.
I slowly turn my eyes from the left to the center of the hallway, and like an apparition, this image conjured itself from nothingness. And when I looked up, it was My Father. He was standing there the whole time. So I reacted how anybody would: I screamed. And usually after I scream or otherwise act in a way he thinks is unbecoming, My Fucking Father would start talking about what he wanted to talk about, react to my screaming, and say something like "What are you screaming for?"
And after a long stretch where he was being civil to me, Father turned into My Fucking Father again. "Because you startled me!" And after I complained, "Why didn't you knock again? You were just standing there!" My Fucking Father got all petulant again. He had something to say to me, but he didn't want to say anything anymore because his wittle feewings got hurt: "Nothing! Nothing now!"
I learned some time ago not to enable his juvenile behavior by chasing him down and asking what he wanted to say. I did that, and I give him the satisfaction of being right. So whatever he wanted to say to me, I don't know. It probably's about the Antiques Roadshow registration, but honestly, I don't give a shit.
You know, I might have acted weird to both my parents tonight. After coming home from dumping the trash in their minivan, I locked the door only to be sort of startled by Mother, who got back to what she indicated last night and showed me the letter she wanted me to scan and send to my sister; I screamed, to which she asked, "What's the matter with you?"
Also, I was in the bathroom taking the aforementioned shit when Mother called me from the basement. So I was kind of hurried when I went down to the master bedroom when My Fucking Father made his request while lying in his bed, even though he couldn't provide me with even a web address to register. After being left to fend for myself -- another case where he told me to do something without giving me any fucking help -- Mother intercepts me. She offers oranges; I was stuffed from eating two ham sandwiches and a bagel in the past three hours, then having two pieces of chicken for dinner when I usually would have a lot more, and she's offering oranges? I openly conveyed my being overwhelmed when I indicated I didn't know. She said no pressure, and before I could tell her I'd have one, My Fucking Father yelled from his prone throne that he found a website.
So I wasn't having the easiest time communicating with the 'Rents tonight. Maybe my run-in with My Fucking Father had a path leading up to it. Now I have to be afraid of what payback he has in store for me.
I scan and send and sign up. While surfing, I think I hear someone try to turn the doorknob. I pause and turn around. It was really soft, subtle and quick, so I really thought I was hearing things. But My Father wanted me to do something and there's a chance he wanted to bother me about something before going to the bathroom to pee. Then again, I kept waiting for him, or for Mother (if that's who it was) to check the knob again or knock. No answer.
My attention has already been ripped away from the computer, so I might as well check. I slowly roll the chair to the door, then slowly get up and toward it. I then open, sort of thinking that I should peek around the corner in case the bathroom light was open; Father might've given up waiting for me to open the door and would just holler from the toilet. But the hallway was dark, and there was no light emanating from the bathroom.
I slowly turn my eyes from the left to the center of the hallway, and like an apparition, this image conjured itself from nothingness. And when I looked up, it was My Father. He was standing there the whole time. So I reacted how anybody would: I screamed. And usually after I scream or otherwise act in a way he thinks is unbecoming, My Fucking Father would start talking about what he wanted to talk about, react to my screaming, and say something like "What are you screaming for?"
And after a long stretch where he was being civil to me, Father turned into My Fucking Father again. "Because you startled me!" And after I complained, "Why didn't you knock again? You were just standing there!" My Fucking Father got all petulant again. He had something to say to me, but he didn't want to say anything anymore because his wittle feewings got hurt: "Nothing! Nothing now!"
I learned some time ago not to enable his juvenile behavior by chasing him down and asking what he wanted to say. I did that, and I give him the satisfaction of being right. So whatever he wanted to say to me, I don't know. It probably's about the Antiques Roadshow registration, but honestly, I don't give a shit.
You know, I might have acted weird to both my parents tonight. After coming home from dumping the trash in their minivan, I locked the door only to be sort of startled by Mother, who got back to what she indicated last night and showed me the letter she wanted me to scan and send to my sister; I screamed, to which she asked, "What's the matter with you?"
Also, I was in the bathroom taking the aforementioned shit when Mother called me from the basement. So I was kind of hurried when I went down to the master bedroom when My Fucking Father made his request while lying in his bed, even though he couldn't provide me with even a web address to register. After being left to fend for myself -- another case where he told me to do something without giving me any fucking help -- Mother intercepts me. She offers oranges; I was stuffed from eating two ham sandwiches and a bagel in the past three hours, then having two pieces of chicken for dinner when I usually would have a lot more, and she's offering oranges? I openly conveyed my being overwhelmed when I indicated I didn't know. She said no pressure, and before I could tell her I'd have one, My Fucking Father yelled from his prone throne that he found a website.
So I wasn't having the easiest time communicating with the 'Rents tonight. Maybe my run-in with My Fucking Father had a path leading up to it. Now I have to be afraid of what payback he has in store for me.
Monday, January 17, 2011
And Then It Dawned On Me
So the assessment nurse came by on Friday. It's always an arduous task because this visit determines how many hours of PCA I get billed for for taking care of Grandmother, and thus how much money I make.
The assessment itself is also a pain in the ass because Mother usually tries to monopolize the interview between her, me, Grandmother and the assessment nurse. I'm the one that takes care of her most of the time; besides the big things like finances and quasi-power of attorney issues, she doesn't really know. I can answer most of these questions, but most of the time she does.
But she wasn't there this time. Instead, Grandmother made an executive decision to bring her interpreter, the one that represents her on doctor's visits, over to the house on Friday. I didn't know that the only person who needed to be at an assessment was the client. She doesn't speak English well, so I thought that I needed to be there as PCA/translator, and Mother needed to represent her big interests as the responsible party. But no; the interpreter chick filled in for Mother, and it was us four on Friday.
I'm still cheezed over this. Grandmother didn't "make" this decision; the interpreter convinced ... well, no, told her, yeah ... she told her that she should come. Maybe she even told Grandmother she would come. I don't exactly know if there's anything in it for her. She probably got paid to be there as a translator, but is there a kickback somewhere?
Right now, the reason I think the interpreter shoehorned her way into this assessment is that she's bossy. I saw a whiff of that when I accompanied Grandmother on a doctor's visit last week. I saw the overly demonstrative way she told her off when she asked questions. Worse, she, um, embellished a few things between the diabetes counselor and Grandmother, both ways. That's not a risk I need to see, especially if my wincing -- I have a poker face for shit -- catches the nurse's eye.
And I did a lot of that during the assessment. I cannot make too many accusations because my Chinese ain't that great, and they spoke Vietnamese to each other, a language I can't speak at all. But there were many times where I thought to myself, "Wait, she (she being Grandmother or the nurse) didn't say that."
But what rang out clear as a bell was the way translator chick dominated the interview, Grandmother, and me. She spoke 70-5% of the time. She kept saying that Grandmother needed more PCA service; she said it so many times that a five-year-old could tell she really was saying, "Get more money for the boy -- and for me!!!" And something I saw at the doctor's last week: she had this particularly obnoxious, almost comically absurd tic where, if she wants to spit words out with emphasis, she closes her eyes while she talks. I see a lot of old Asian women do that whenever a conversation gets heated, including, sometimes, Mother. It's as if they're afraid that what they're saying will upset the person they're speaking to, and they don't want to see their reaction. On several occasions, I noticed that these Asian women close their eyes while telling lies. I hope the nurse doesn't think she's lying, even if she was embellishing.
---
Oh, I just looked at the title of this blog post. In the middle of the interview, the interpreter told the nurse that Grandmother wanted Glucerna. For this, the nurse said, she needed to fill out a form called an Elderly Waiver.
Elderly Waiver, Elderly Waiver ... those two words sound familiar. That's when I remembered that I we had this conversation during last year's assessment, I believe. Grandmother wanted more of these diabetes drinks, but didn't want to pay for them, and so the nurse said the only way to get them is through filling out these EW forms. But when I told Mother about it, she said no, and Grandmother was OK with it. I don't remember the details about why the plan was nixed -- maybe it had something to do with more bureaucracy, or Grandmother said she could get Glucerna from a friend. But I remember clearly that we, not just Grandmother, but all of us didn't want to go through with it after finding out all the details.
This was going to be another thing that the interpreter was ramming down my and Grandmother's throats. But somehow these Elderly Waiver forms jogged my memory, and then it dawned on me: The translator has just fucked up my financial situation for good.
When Tim Pawlenty starved the state of money, he made me lose money as a PCA. Fortunately, because of his extremist politics -- and the fact that I still can't find a job in this god-forsaken world -- I qualified for state aid and unemployment. However, my hours as a PCA barely made me eligible, and if the translator chick's constant load bleating goads is heard by the nurse, she'll bump me up, and I'll lose both. There's a chance that we made such a convincing case that her PCA hours will skyrocket to something even close to full-time, but if not, I will, lose more money in the long run than I'll make in the short run.
And that's when my mind harkened back to last year. I was mad at Mother for her attitude at that assessment, but after what happened, I was OK with it. I actually miss that now. So that's why I'm so upset now: My fate has been sealed by an annoying woman I barely know who's taking over care of Grandmother from me and can't even fucking open her eyes when she talks.
The assessment itself is also a pain in the ass because Mother usually tries to monopolize the interview between her, me, Grandmother and the assessment nurse. I'm the one that takes care of her most of the time; besides the big things like finances and quasi-power of attorney issues, she doesn't really know. I can answer most of these questions, but most of the time she does.
But she wasn't there this time. Instead, Grandmother made an executive decision to bring her interpreter, the one that represents her on doctor's visits, over to the house on Friday. I didn't know that the only person who needed to be at an assessment was the client. She doesn't speak English well, so I thought that I needed to be there as PCA/translator, and Mother needed to represent her big interests as the responsible party. But no; the interpreter chick filled in for Mother, and it was us four on Friday.
I'm still cheezed over this. Grandmother didn't "make" this decision; the interpreter convinced ... well, no, told her, yeah ... she told her that she should come. Maybe she even told Grandmother she would come. I don't exactly know if there's anything in it for her. She probably got paid to be there as a translator, but is there a kickback somewhere?
Right now, the reason I think the interpreter shoehorned her way into this assessment is that she's bossy. I saw a whiff of that when I accompanied Grandmother on a doctor's visit last week. I saw the overly demonstrative way she told her off when she asked questions. Worse, she, um, embellished a few things between the diabetes counselor and Grandmother, both ways. That's not a risk I need to see, especially if my wincing -- I have a poker face for shit -- catches the nurse's eye.
And I did a lot of that during the assessment. I cannot make too many accusations because my Chinese ain't that great, and they spoke Vietnamese to each other, a language I can't speak at all. But there were many times where I thought to myself, "Wait, she (she being Grandmother or the nurse) didn't say that."
But what rang out clear as a bell was the way translator chick dominated the interview, Grandmother, and me. She spoke 70-5% of the time. She kept saying that Grandmother needed more PCA service; she said it so many times that a five-year-old could tell she really was saying, "Get more money for the boy -- and for me!!!" And something I saw at the doctor's last week: she had this particularly obnoxious, almost comically absurd tic where, if she wants to spit words out with emphasis, she closes her eyes while she talks. I see a lot of old Asian women do that whenever a conversation gets heated, including, sometimes, Mother. It's as if they're afraid that what they're saying will upset the person they're speaking to, and they don't want to see their reaction. On several occasions, I noticed that these Asian women close their eyes while telling lies. I hope the nurse doesn't think she's lying, even if she was embellishing.
---
Oh, I just looked at the title of this blog post. In the middle of the interview, the interpreter told the nurse that Grandmother wanted Glucerna. For this, the nurse said, she needed to fill out a form called an Elderly Waiver.
Elderly Waiver, Elderly Waiver ... those two words sound familiar. That's when I remembered that I we had this conversation during last year's assessment, I believe. Grandmother wanted more of these diabetes drinks, but didn't want to pay for them, and so the nurse said the only way to get them is through filling out these EW forms. But when I told Mother about it, she said no, and Grandmother was OK with it. I don't remember the details about why the plan was nixed -- maybe it had something to do with more bureaucracy, or Grandmother said she could get Glucerna from a friend. But I remember clearly that we, not just Grandmother, but all of us didn't want to go through with it after finding out all the details.
This was going to be another thing that the interpreter was ramming down my and Grandmother's throats. But somehow these Elderly Waiver forms jogged my memory, and then it dawned on me: The translator has just fucked up my financial situation for good.
When Tim Pawlenty starved the state of money, he made me lose money as a PCA. Fortunately, because of his extremist politics -- and the fact that I still can't find a job in this god-forsaken world -- I qualified for state aid and unemployment. However, my hours as a PCA barely made me eligible, and if the translator chick's constant load bleating goads is heard by the nurse, she'll bump me up, and I'll lose both. There's a chance that we made such a convincing case that her PCA hours will skyrocket to something even close to full-time, but if not, I will, lose more money in the long run than I'll make in the short run.
And that's when my mind harkened back to last year. I was mad at Mother for her attitude at that assessment, but after what happened, I was OK with it. I actually miss that now. So that's why I'm so upset now: My fate has been sealed by an annoying woman I barely know who's taking over care of Grandmother from me and can't even fucking open her eyes when she talks.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
More Adventures With Grandmother
So I was up early because the nurse had to visit. Was totally swamped with stuff, otherwise I would've told her that a) Grandmother must now take insulin shots, b) the assessment nurse came by yesterday, and c) if there was anything from last year in regards to the assessment nurse's visit that I should remember this time around. But it all came spilling out this morning during our meeting. Turns out that because the assessment nurse visited yesterday, she shouldn't've come out this morning; she should've waited until the final report from the assessment nurse was sent to her.
However, I did have a ready-made excuse to wake up early this morning: I needed to shovel the driveway and the back deck. If I didn't have to wake up this morning, I would have needed to do it this afternoon, which would've prevented me from the things I planned to do in the afternoon, namely go to Goodwill, then the mall, then coffee to finish this week's Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey.
I stay out late because, as I've said before, I don't want to be home when my parents come home because I think they're a lot more likely to bitch to me about doing chores around the house. They really can't do that if I'm not there. But if I stay out too long, like I did today, I run the risk of getting home late for dinner. They were probably not in the mood to give me shit about doing work around the house today because Father's still recuperating from his doctor's visit Friday. I kind of wanted to come home early enough to catch the beginning of the Steelers-Bastard Cleveland Browns playoff game, but I decided facing potential wrath from the 'Rents wasn't worth it.
Wait, wait, wait ... this is supposed to be about my Grandmother. OK, so I was really tired when I woke up in preparation for the nurse, so I got out and start shoveling the driveway, particularly all the crusty snow at the end that's the result of the plow scraping it off the street to make sure it's clear. Got partway through that part of the task when the nurse came. After the visit was over, I had to eat a banana to keep up my strength. It helped; I was able to finish with the rest of the crusty snow at the bottom of the driveway and the light and fluffy snow accumulating at the top and middle of it.
That's when I started to tire. I kind of wanted to wait to sweep the deck until after I took a little nap, but I knew that I would be in no mood to do that if I did. Besides, the sun was shining, and it felt warm and good, and I knew that the sun would be over the other side of the roof come the afternoon. So I powered my way through it.
At 11 I was done, and that's when I permitted myself time to rest. But then Grandmother wanted to go to the Chinese food store to get some greens. This is how she asks me if I could take her to grocery shop, every single time:
"Are you going out?"
"Uh, yeah, but not right now. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing ... (long pause) ... it's just that I want to go to the grocery store and pick up some veggies."
Every. Single. Fucking. Time. I still on occasion blow up on her whenever she goes back to that same damn script, but this time I took a deep breath. She can't make me take her. I can do this whenever she wants ... just like she said. So I decided I really wanted to pass out. If I wake up at around noon, I'd have 3 1/2 hours, and I don't need that much time, so I'd take her then.
So I turn on the heat, set my alarm, put on my sleep mask and pass out ... only to be woken up by Grandmother, who says from outside my door that she's getting her friend to take her, so I don't have to. Great. I feel really tired, so I reset the alarm for an hour later.
Then later -- I don't know how much later, but I did go unconscious -- I heard the door open. Had a passing thought before I passed out that I wanted to make sure Grandmother didn't slip on the ice, so I got up. Outside, I saw that she was just opening the door. She said someone was at the door; when I went to our bay window I saw a guy walking down our driveway. That was the end of it ... until Grandmother, in that obnoxious way, again used the moment to slip in some news that altered my plans, namely that her friend had to take her car into the shop, so she wouldn't be able to take her to the grocery store -- or that's the story she's telling me. Sigh. So I tell her that I still need time to sleep. I reset my alarm for, like, 45 minutes from then, which was around 12:30 (I think), and fall back to bed.
So now I'm finally ready to get up and start my afternoon. I go to Grandmother's bedroom and tell her I'm ready to go, but she tells me she doesn't want to go anymore. She gives me a sorry litany of excuses -- it's too cold, she was told by another friend that the greens are terrible today, let's go tomorrow -- that really started to anger me because she jerked me around again. But then I thought that maybe my temper made her think twice about asking me to take her grocery shopping. And then I felt guilty -- and tired.
So I tried going back to sleep, but my mind went through a to-do list of stuff I need to do. And then I realized I couldn't go back to bed anymore.
---
You wanna know what else I find annoying about my Grandmother? She always seems to ask me for things when I'm just about to go back to my bedroom or do something. She may be old, but when she wants to, I'm sure she'll tap into her Bionic Woman ears and hear me retreating to my sanctuary so she knows precisely when she wants to fuck things up for me.
I got done eating dinner well after my parents and Grandmother got done. Along with watching the game from the big TV in the dining room, I stayed out to clean my plate and chopsticks and take out the garbage. I got done with all that between the Steelers win and the Falcons-Packers tilt, around 7. I thought it was time to retreat into my bedroom and watch from there.
And I swear, as soon as I turn off the lights, I hear this shuffling coming from Grandmother's room. I know she got up to talk to me about something. So instead of heading for my bedroom, I stood there in the dining room. I didn't turn on the light, I just stood there, peeved that she probably heard me turn off the TV and thought, "Oh, I'd better catch him before he goes into his bedroom and do things he won't drop just because I asked him to!"
Since I came back too late for the start of dinner, Grandmother ate without taking her insulin. We discussed earlier that evening whether or not she wanted to take her shots later. Well, she came storming out of her bedroom to say that she will be eating another dinner and, therefore, will need her insulin.
So I do all that shit for her; I harbor this secret dream where all of a sudden she knows how to do this all by herself. During the middle of testing her blood for sugar and prepping the syringe, I thought I might as well turn the dining room TV back on and see how the Falcons-Packers game is going. And after we're done and she puts her supplies away, I say to myself that I'll turn it off and go back to my bedroom at the next commercial break.
But Grandmother, the goddamn hoverer, walks into her bedroom to put away her supplies and comes back out during the game, probably to see what the hell's on the TV, or what else is going in my life that'll save her from her unhappy, lonely existence watching DVD's in her bedroom. Oh great -- now I can't lock myself in my bedroom because then I'd be a dick who left his granny to fend for herself in a cold house. So with another sigh, I sit down at the dining room table and watch tonight's/last night's game with Grandmother not understanding much of football. She lasted until the very last minute of the game. I could have used the warmth my space heater, and the comfort my bed, could provide.
Oh well: I wanted to watch Saturday Night Live, and I really wanted to see the end of the game, so maybe just staying out in the dining room was a blessing in disguise. Still ticked off that Grandmother's being so clingy, too.
Oh, and later in the evening she asked me if I saw her glasses. She couldn't find them. I saw them in her bedroom.
However, I did have a ready-made excuse to wake up early this morning: I needed to shovel the driveway and the back deck. If I didn't have to wake up this morning, I would have needed to do it this afternoon, which would've prevented me from the things I planned to do in the afternoon, namely go to Goodwill, then the mall, then coffee to finish this week's Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey.
I stay out late because, as I've said before, I don't want to be home when my parents come home because I think they're a lot more likely to bitch to me about doing chores around the house. They really can't do that if I'm not there. But if I stay out too long, like I did today, I run the risk of getting home late for dinner. They were probably not in the mood to give me shit about doing work around the house today because Father's still recuperating from his doctor's visit Friday. I kind of wanted to come home early enough to catch the beginning of the Steelers-Bastard Cleveland Browns playoff game, but I decided facing potential wrath from the 'Rents wasn't worth it.
Wait, wait, wait ... this is supposed to be about my Grandmother. OK, so I was really tired when I woke up in preparation for the nurse, so I got out and start shoveling the driveway, particularly all the crusty snow at the end that's the result of the plow scraping it off the street to make sure it's clear. Got partway through that part of the task when the nurse came. After the visit was over, I had to eat a banana to keep up my strength. It helped; I was able to finish with the rest of the crusty snow at the bottom of the driveway and the light and fluffy snow accumulating at the top and middle of it.
That's when I started to tire. I kind of wanted to wait to sweep the deck until after I took a little nap, but I knew that I would be in no mood to do that if I did. Besides, the sun was shining, and it felt warm and good, and I knew that the sun would be over the other side of the roof come the afternoon. So I powered my way through it.
At 11 I was done, and that's when I permitted myself time to rest. But then Grandmother wanted to go to the Chinese food store to get some greens. This is how she asks me if I could take her to grocery shop, every single time:
"Are you going out?"
"Uh, yeah, but not right now. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing ... (long pause) ... it's just that I want to go to the grocery store and pick up some veggies."
Every. Single. Fucking. Time. I still on occasion blow up on her whenever she goes back to that same damn script, but this time I took a deep breath. She can't make me take her. I can do this whenever she wants ... just like she said. So I decided I really wanted to pass out. If I wake up at around noon, I'd have 3 1/2 hours, and I don't need that much time, so I'd take her then.
So I turn on the heat, set my alarm, put on my sleep mask and pass out ... only to be woken up by Grandmother, who says from outside my door that she's getting her friend to take her, so I don't have to. Great. I feel really tired, so I reset the alarm for an hour later.
Then later -- I don't know how much later, but I did go unconscious -- I heard the door open. Had a passing thought before I passed out that I wanted to make sure Grandmother didn't slip on the ice, so I got up. Outside, I saw that she was just opening the door. She said someone was at the door; when I went to our bay window I saw a guy walking down our driveway. That was the end of it ... until Grandmother, in that obnoxious way, again used the moment to slip in some news that altered my plans, namely that her friend had to take her car into the shop, so she wouldn't be able to take her to the grocery store -- or that's the story she's telling me. Sigh. So I tell her that I still need time to sleep. I reset my alarm for, like, 45 minutes from then, which was around 12:30 (I think), and fall back to bed.
So now I'm finally ready to get up and start my afternoon. I go to Grandmother's bedroom and tell her I'm ready to go, but she tells me she doesn't want to go anymore. She gives me a sorry litany of excuses -- it's too cold, she was told by another friend that the greens are terrible today, let's go tomorrow -- that really started to anger me because she jerked me around again. But then I thought that maybe my temper made her think twice about asking me to take her grocery shopping. And then I felt guilty -- and tired.
So I tried going back to sleep, but my mind went through a to-do list of stuff I need to do. And then I realized I couldn't go back to bed anymore.
---
You wanna know what else I find annoying about my Grandmother? She always seems to ask me for things when I'm just about to go back to my bedroom or do something. She may be old, but when she wants to, I'm sure she'll tap into her Bionic Woman ears and hear me retreating to my sanctuary so she knows precisely when she wants to fuck things up for me.
I got done eating dinner well after my parents and Grandmother got done. Along with watching the game from the big TV in the dining room, I stayed out to clean my plate and chopsticks and take out the garbage. I got done with all that between the Steelers win and the Falcons-Packers tilt, around 7. I thought it was time to retreat into my bedroom and watch from there.
And I swear, as soon as I turn off the lights, I hear this shuffling coming from Grandmother's room. I know she got up to talk to me about something. So instead of heading for my bedroom, I stood there in the dining room. I didn't turn on the light, I just stood there, peeved that she probably heard me turn off the TV and thought, "Oh, I'd better catch him before he goes into his bedroom and do things he won't drop just because I asked him to!"
Since I came back too late for the start of dinner, Grandmother ate without taking her insulin. We discussed earlier that evening whether or not she wanted to take her shots later. Well, she came storming out of her bedroom to say that she will be eating another dinner and, therefore, will need her insulin.
So I do all that shit for her; I harbor this secret dream where all of a sudden she knows how to do this all by herself. During the middle of testing her blood for sugar and prepping the syringe, I thought I might as well turn the dining room TV back on and see how the Falcons-Packers game is going. And after we're done and she puts her supplies away, I say to myself that I'll turn it off and go back to my bedroom at the next commercial break.
But Grandmother, the goddamn hoverer, walks into her bedroom to put away her supplies and comes back out during the game, probably to see what the hell's on the TV, or what else is going in my life that'll save her from her unhappy, lonely existence watching DVD's in her bedroom. Oh great -- now I can't lock myself in my bedroom because then I'd be a dick who left his granny to fend for herself in a cold house. So with another sigh, I sit down at the dining room table and watch tonight's/last night's game with Grandmother not understanding much of football. She lasted until the very last minute of the game. I could have used the warmth my space heater, and the comfort my bed, could provide.
Oh well: I wanted to watch Saturday Night Live, and I really wanted to see the end of the game, so maybe just staying out in the dining room was a blessing in disguise. Still ticked off that Grandmother's being so clingy, too.
Oh, and later in the evening she asked me if I saw her glasses. She couldn't find them. I saw them in her bedroom.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -5). Only one game this screening week, but it's a helluva victory: 3-2 at North Dakota, the second-ranked team in the country. Even though the Fighting Sioux rallied to tie, it seemed important that Mike Hoffel and Jake Hansen scored early at Engelstad Arena just to let the team know they could do it in hostile territory. And, of course, Nico Sacchetti netted the game-winner early in the third, that was important.
I am saddened to hear that Alex Kangas will had hip surgery this (Friday) morning that will end his year and college career. Really, I am. He epitomized the dutiful soldier, playing the third-most games of any Gopher and having a save percentage of .912, highest in program history. But that hip has bothered him this season and, I believe, a large part of last season. Kent Patterson was outplaying him for most of the season, and for the good of the program in its current, fragile state, Patterson gives the team its best chance of winning, game in and game out. And Patterson saved 35 shots for the win tonight. They play the back end of their series with UND tomorrow night, then start a home series with Alaska-Anchorage Friday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A win -- well, it's technically a tie, but they go to a shootout after overtime, and they won that -- at Ridder over fourth-ranked UMD. Pretty impressive. Didn't think they had it in them to defeat their little sisters from the Arrowhead. I have nothing to say after that. They finish up tomorrow afternoon; they start a two-game series at Ohio St. Friday.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Holy shit this team's had a hard-ass way to begin conference play. They faced two ranked teams this week; splitting seems remarkable.
First, they travelled to Ohio St., ranked second in the country. They made up a 15-point deficit late in the second half, but an Austin Hollins three with two seconds left the comeback short. Still, I didn't think this team had a three-point loss at the second-best team in the land in them.
Then, the shit hit the fan. Wunderkind Trevor Mbakwe violated terms of a restraining order by posting a good luck message on his ex-girlfriend's facebook. First of all, even though it seems innocuous on its face, stalkers usually start being all sweet, like Ike Turner, with small and kind gestures like this. And when the stalkee permits the man back into his life, he beats the shit out of her. So it's a good thing that Mbakwe was arrested.
And that's the second thing; Mbakwe was arrested. So why wasn't he kicked off the team? This guy seems like nothing but trouble. But after he apologized, in a way that all stalkers do, Tubby Smith kept him on the team -- no expulsion, not even a suspension. Once again, if a felon is the best interior presence on your team, and he is a literal beast on the court as well as off, well, you can't really handicap your team by following the rules of law and basic decency, can you?
At least Mbakwe wasn't the Most Valuable Player in the win over 8th-ranked Purdue at Williams on Thursday. Blake Hoffarber, another dutiful soldier wearing the maroon and gold (though maybe a tad more successful than Kangas) scored 26, one short of his career high, to beat the Makers by three. However, there's no way they win without Mbakwe. Only one game this week, home to Iowa Sunday.
#-4: Swarm (Re-Entry!). Welcome back to the WMNSS the Major League Lacrosse Western Conference fourth-place finishers, your Minnesota Swarm!!! (Bzz-bzzzzz-bzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!) They began their season on Saturday with an overtime loss to the Rochester Knighthawks; from the little I remember seeing them, they always seem to lose in overtime. But then, shockingly, they go to the Evergreen State and beat the defending MLL champs, the Washington Stealth. And not only did they beat them, they beat the shit out of them -- 16-8! They have never routed an opponent, not as far as I can remember!
Most shocking than the dominating team performance was the pwning individual performance from Forward Ryan Benesch, who scored seven of the Swarm's 16 goals, which is a franchise record by, I believe, a country mile. He already holds Swarm records for most assists in a game and, therefore of course, most points in a game. And this guy's been with the team for four years. Does this make him the franchise cornerstone? In a league that only plays on weekends and still pays them so little money that the players have full-time jobs, I didn't notice.
Maybe -- OK, probably not -- this is the win that finally jumpstarts this franchise. The Swarm turn in shitty records year after year, and yet because the NLL has a generous-like-when-the-NHL-was-at-21-teams playoff system, they are virtually pushed into the postseason, where they do nothing. They are off for the week.
#-5: Gopher wrestling (Re-Entry!). Played four teams over two days in the National Duals in Iowa last weekend. Like an adaptive admissions test, the Gophers played better and better teams until they lost, whereby they played a worse opponent. So it looks like the grapplers are exactly where they should be: Fifth in the nation, nowhere near championship contention.
On Saturday they destroyed unranked Northern Illinois, then escaped sixth-ranked Boise St., 18-17. While it was close, on Sunday they lost to the top-ranked team in the land, Cornell, 20-16 ... wait -- Cornell is the best wrestling program in the country? They finished the tournamnet against fourth-ranked Wisconsin, where they dropped another close one, 19-17 ... wait-wait-wait -- Wisconsin is the fourth-beset wrestling program in the country?? I assumed they had a wrestling program, but they've never been this good. What the fuck??? They started Big Ten play by whipping Indiana, 25-14, but if they're not going to win the NCAA title, who cares? This week they have a huge meet at Iowa St. tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon, and then visit Purdue Friday.
#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). 1-2 for the week. As anticipated, they lost their home-and-home to the best team in the Association right now, the San Antonio Spurs. The Woofie Dogs had the and-home home game on Tuesday, where a ref doled out five technicals on them in a span of ten seconds. Two of them were for Head Coach Kurt Rambis, who was ejected for possibly the first time as Minnesota Head Coach. Well, at least they won vs. Washington, when they fell behind late but finished the game with a, I think, 19-3 run, including some nifty play by Darko Milicic. The Wizards are now 0-19 on the road this season. Three games this screening week: Home to Orlando tonight (Saturday night), at Portland Monday, at the Bastard Buffalo Braves Wednesday.
#-7: Wild (Last Week: -1). Uh-oh. Their good play is gone and seems like a distant memory after their 1-3 week. That one win was the first game, a confidence-boosting 4-0 ass-kicking at Pittsburgh (even though Sidney Crosby was out of the game with a concussion). That gave the Wild a four-game winning streak.
And then The Team That Was Stolen From Us came to Xcel, and they beat the shit out of the Wild, also by a 4-0 score. (The Bastard North Stars lead their division and are third in the Western Conference, but that doesn't mean they should have been stolen from us. I will never let that go.) Having ghosts dominate you at home seemed to have sucked the life out of this team; with successive losses to Nashville and Colorado, the Wild have lost their last three games by a combined total of 13-2.
At least we can congratulate Brent Burns. He is second among NHL defensemen in goals, and for that he is the only member of the team to go to the All-Star Game. Meanwhile, the Wild play three games, all within the division, in four days: home to Vancouver, then at Edmonton and at Calgary back-to-back.
#-8: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -6). God, this team, and this program, blows. Although they were only by, respectively, five and four points, they dropped both of their games this week, at Wisconsin and Penn St. They are now 0-5 to start league play and haven't won since before Christmas. I keep saying: When in the hell will people start bitching about the direction of this program? Will they move games back to the Sports Pavilion? If so, will people care? Only one game this week, home to the Badgers. They play the same team a dozen days apart?? What shitty scheduling. Almost as shitty as the play of the Minnesota women's basketball team.
I am saddened to hear that Alex Kangas will had hip surgery this (Friday) morning that will end his year and college career. Really, I am. He epitomized the dutiful soldier, playing the third-most games of any Gopher and having a save percentage of .912, highest in program history. But that hip has bothered him this season and, I believe, a large part of last season. Kent Patterson was outplaying him for most of the season, and for the good of the program in its current, fragile state, Patterson gives the team its best chance of winning, game in and game out. And Patterson saved 35 shots for the win tonight. They play the back end of their series with UND tomorrow night, then start a home series with Alaska-Anchorage Friday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A win -- well, it's technically a tie, but they go to a shootout after overtime, and they won that -- at Ridder over fourth-ranked UMD. Pretty impressive. Didn't think they had it in them to defeat their little sisters from the Arrowhead. I have nothing to say after that. They finish up tomorrow afternoon; they start a two-game series at Ohio St. Friday.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Holy shit this team's had a hard-ass way to begin conference play. They faced two ranked teams this week; splitting seems remarkable.
First, they travelled to Ohio St., ranked second in the country. They made up a 15-point deficit late in the second half, but an Austin Hollins three with two seconds left the comeback short. Still, I didn't think this team had a three-point loss at the second-best team in the land in them.
Then, the shit hit the fan. Wunderkind Trevor Mbakwe violated terms of a restraining order by posting a good luck message on his ex-girlfriend's facebook. First of all, even though it seems innocuous on its face, stalkers usually start being all sweet, like Ike Turner, with small and kind gestures like this. And when the stalkee permits the man back into his life, he beats the shit out of her. So it's a good thing that Mbakwe was arrested.
And that's the second thing; Mbakwe was arrested. So why wasn't he kicked off the team? This guy seems like nothing but trouble. But after he apologized, in a way that all stalkers do, Tubby Smith kept him on the team -- no expulsion, not even a suspension. Once again, if a felon is the best interior presence on your team, and he is a literal beast on the court as well as off, well, you can't really handicap your team by following the rules of law and basic decency, can you?
At least Mbakwe wasn't the Most Valuable Player in the win over 8th-ranked Purdue at Williams on Thursday. Blake Hoffarber, another dutiful soldier wearing the maroon and gold (though maybe a tad more successful than Kangas) scored 26, one short of his career high, to beat the Makers by three. However, there's no way they win without Mbakwe. Only one game this week, home to Iowa Sunday.
#-4: Swarm (Re-Entry!). Welcome back to the WMNSS the Major League Lacrosse Western Conference fourth-place finishers, your Minnesota Swarm!!! (Bzz-bzzzzz-bzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!) They began their season on Saturday with an overtime loss to the Rochester Knighthawks; from the little I remember seeing them, they always seem to lose in overtime. But then, shockingly, they go to the Evergreen State and beat the defending MLL champs, the Washington Stealth. And not only did they beat them, they beat the shit out of them -- 16-8! They have never routed an opponent, not as far as I can remember!
Most shocking than the dominating team performance was the pwning individual performance from Forward Ryan Benesch, who scored seven of the Swarm's 16 goals, which is a franchise record by, I believe, a country mile. He already holds Swarm records for most assists in a game and, therefore of course, most points in a game. And this guy's been with the team for four years. Does this make him the franchise cornerstone? In a league that only plays on weekends and still pays them so little money that the players have full-time jobs, I didn't notice.
Maybe -- OK, probably not -- this is the win that finally jumpstarts this franchise. The Swarm turn in shitty records year after year, and yet because the NLL has a generous-like-when-the-NHL-was-at-21-teams playoff system, they are virtually pushed into the postseason, where they do nothing. They are off for the week.
#-5: Gopher wrestling (Re-Entry!). Played four teams over two days in the National Duals in Iowa last weekend. Like an adaptive admissions test, the Gophers played better and better teams until they lost, whereby they played a worse opponent. So it looks like the grapplers are exactly where they should be: Fifth in the nation, nowhere near championship contention.
On Saturday they destroyed unranked Northern Illinois, then escaped sixth-ranked Boise St., 18-17. While it was close, on Sunday they lost to the top-ranked team in the land, Cornell, 20-16 ... wait -- Cornell is the best wrestling program in the country? They finished the tournamnet against fourth-ranked Wisconsin, where they dropped another close one, 19-17 ... wait-wait-wait -- Wisconsin is the fourth-beset wrestling program in the country?? I assumed they had a wrestling program, but they've never been this good. What the fuck??? They started Big Ten play by whipping Indiana, 25-14, but if they're not going to win the NCAA title, who cares? This week they have a huge meet at Iowa St. tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon, and then visit Purdue Friday.
#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). 1-2 for the week. As anticipated, they lost their home-and-home to the best team in the Association right now, the San Antonio Spurs. The Woofie Dogs had the and-home home game on Tuesday, where a ref doled out five technicals on them in a span of ten seconds. Two of them were for Head Coach Kurt Rambis, who was ejected for possibly the first time as Minnesota Head Coach. Well, at least they won vs. Washington, when they fell behind late but finished the game with a, I think, 19-3 run, including some nifty play by Darko Milicic. The Wizards are now 0-19 on the road this season. Three games this screening week: Home to Orlando tonight (Saturday night), at Portland Monday, at the Bastard Buffalo Braves Wednesday.
#-7: Wild (Last Week: -1). Uh-oh. Their good play is gone and seems like a distant memory after their 1-3 week. That one win was the first game, a confidence-boosting 4-0 ass-kicking at Pittsburgh (even though Sidney Crosby was out of the game with a concussion). That gave the Wild a four-game winning streak.
And then The Team That Was Stolen From Us came to Xcel, and they beat the shit out of the Wild, also by a 4-0 score. (The Bastard North Stars lead their division and are third in the Western Conference, but that doesn't mean they should have been stolen from us. I will never let that go.) Having ghosts dominate you at home seemed to have sucked the life out of this team; with successive losses to Nashville and Colorado, the Wild have lost their last three games by a combined total of 13-2.
At least we can congratulate Brent Burns. He is second among NHL defensemen in goals, and for that he is the only member of the team to go to the All-Star Game. Meanwhile, the Wild play three games, all within the division, in four days: home to Vancouver, then at Edmonton and at Calgary back-to-back.
#-8: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -6). God, this team, and this program, blows. Although they were only by, respectively, five and four points, they dropped both of their games this week, at Wisconsin and Penn St. They are now 0-5 to start league play and haven't won since before Christmas. I keep saying: When in the hell will people start bitching about the direction of this program? Will they move games back to the Sports Pavilion? If so, will people care? Only one game this week, home to the Badgers. They play the same team a dozen days apart?? What shitty scheduling. Almost as shitty as the play of the Minnesota women's basketball team.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Kids Say The Darndest Things
Quick exchange I had with this adorable little girl when I got done working out tonight:
"Do you work at a Chinese restaurant?"
"No."
"Good. They're ugly people. I don't understand anything they're saying."
"Do you work at a Chinese restaurant?"
"No."
"Good. They're ugly people. I don't understand anything they're saying."
The Tragedy In Tucson Should Spur More Gun Control
For all the talk about toning down violent rhetoric in this country or even how we deal with the mentally ill, we Americans are tip-toeing around one very large and obvious subject: That this proves we need more gun control.
I mean, how in the fuck does this not result in more gun control? Some asshole walks up to a national congresswoman and shoots her right in the head, then turns around and tries to unload his weapon to the crowd gathered to see her and watch her speak. Six dead (including a nine-year-old girl), 13 injured (Rep. Gabrielle Giffords critically), and no one thinks that maybe we should stop letting this fuckin' psychopath get his damn hands on a gun?
It's easy for the gunnuts and the NRA out there to demagogue talk from any potential pro-gun control groups in the wake of the Tragedy in Tucson. I'm not here to take everybody's guns away -- just those automatic and semi-automatic weapons from people who walk around public with them while failing to respect the inherent danger they cause and the consequences from using them, incorrectly or correctly.
I recognize the Second Amendment. If you use rifles to hunt, keep your rifles. If you want a piece to protect yourself and your family in your home, knock yourself out -- even though you have to understand that studies show you're more likely to hurt yourself or another family member than any intruder. And if you want to conceal-carry a killing machine, you damn well better have a good reason to -- you're a police officer, you're a trained security guard, or you're being stalked. Living in America isn't a good enough reason for you to carry a fucking pistol with you wherever you go. That is the maximum extent of how guns should be disseminated in this country.
I will concede points the pro-gunnut lobby made just after this unstable bastard took the lives of six innocent people ... even though I need to make the observation that the pro-gunnut lobby gets so defensive it leaps to give its "What? Not us!" posture just after mass murders like these without apparently giving a shit about the innocent lives just taken. Yes, someone determined to kill using guns will find a way to do so. Yes, the mentally ill need to be officially declared mentally ill so that no dealer will sell him a gun. And yes, blame for these deaths belongs to the killer. OK -- so does that mean we do nothing to make buying a gun harder? We just say, "Oh well, shooters will be shooters" and throw our hands up, or worse, think we could stop this prick by letting more guns loose in public? Remember, no one subdued Jared Loughner with a bullet; he was wrestled to the ground by people, heroes, who did not have guns. Unarmed citizens prevented the murders of more innocent people.
Some would say that if somebody there had a gun, no innocent person would die. But you just said that if someone wanted to shoot and kill somebody, he'll find a way. Which one is it? And besides, I'll take my chances that this supposed gun-toting hero wouldn't know what hit him as soon as one of the many strangers in public whips out his piece and starts taking lives. Let's see how fast you are on your righteous trigger then, deputy. In the meantime, I'll continue to believe that if all psychos and idiots are going to get guns, I'd rather prevent any American from having one.
My condolensces and prayers go out to the families and friends of those that died Saturday, and my thoughts go out to the survivors and their loved ones.
I mean, how in the fuck does this not result in more gun control? Some asshole walks up to a national congresswoman and shoots her right in the head, then turns around and tries to unload his weapon to the crowd gathered to see her and watch her speak. Six dead (including a nine-year-old girl), 13 injured (Rep. Gabrielle Giffords critically), and no one thinks that maybe we should stop letting this fuckin' psychopath get his damn hands on a gun?
It's easy for the gunnuts and the NRA out there to demagogue talk from any potential pro-gun control groups in the wake of the Tragedy in Tucson. I'm not here to take everybody's guns away -- just those automatic and semi-automatic weapons from people who walk around public with them while failing to respect the inherent danger they cause and the consequences from using them, incorrectly or correctly.
I recognize the Second Amendment. If you use rifles to hunt, keep your rifles. If you want a piece to protect yourself and your family in your home, knock yourself out -- even though you have to understand that studies show you're more likely to hurt yourself or another family member than any intruder. And if you want to conceal-carry a killing machine, you damn well better have a good reason to -- you're a police officer, you're a trained security guard, or you're being stalked. Living in America isn't a good enough reason for you to carry a fucking pistol with you wherever you go. That is the maximum extent of how guns should be disseminated in this country.
I will concede points the pro-gunnut lobby made just after this unstable bastard took the lives of six innocent people ... even though I need to make the observation that the pro-gunnut lobby gets so defensive it leaps to give its "What? Not us!" posture just after mass murders like these without apparently giving a shit about the innocent lives just taken. Yes, someone determined to kill using guns will find a way to do so. Yes, the mentally ill need to be officially declared mentally ill so that no dealer will sell him a gun. And yes, blame for these deaths belongs to the killer. OK -- so does that mean we do nothing to make buying a gun harder? We just say, "Oh well, shooters will be shooters" and throw our hands up, or worse, think we could stop this prick by letting more guns loose in public? Remember, no one subdued Jared Loughner with a bullet; he was wrestled to the ground by people, heroes, who did not have guns. Unarmed citizens prevented the murders of more innocent people.
Some would say that if somebody there had a gun, no innocent person would die. But you just said that if someone wanted to shoot and kill somebody, he'll find a way. Which one is it? And besides, I'll take my chances that this supposed gun-toting hero wouldn't know what hit him as soon as one of the many strangers in public whips out his piece and starts taking lives. Let's see how fast you are on your righteous trigger then, deputy. In the meantime, I'll continue to believe that if all psychos and idiots are going to get guns, I'd rather prevent any American from having one.
My condolensces and prayers go out to the families and friends of those that died Saturday, and my thoughts go out to the survivors and their loved ones.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
I fucking hate it when someone springs plans on me that I can't break. I didn't think my Grandmother, of all people, would ever do that to me.
She went to the doctor today. She told me over the phone while I was at Target (there were insurance problems with the syringes and pills she needs) that she wanted me to come home because she had to tell me something. She didn't get around to this news until tonight, when she whipped out a piece of paper with Vietnamese words scrawled on it.
Grandmother was saying a lot of Chinese words I didn't understand, but she got to the bottom line: This nurse is coming this Friday at 1, and I have to be there. Wait, nurse? Is this an assessment? And no fucking bothered to tell me till now?! Who the fuck arranged this???
And then I remembered I had to go to "work" Friday at 1. When I told her this, she sniped at me: "Don't tell the nurse about your work!" to which I replied, "Of course I won't tell her that, I'm telling you!!" Doesn't she understand that she made this appointment for me without telling me, without asking me if this is alright, without asking me if I have anything going on then?
I might have to cancel. Mother also needs to attend this assessment, and I don't know if she'll be able to break free, especially because Father has a doctor's appointment around then.
Oh, and after I came home, apropos of nothing, My Fucking Father says to my face, "Why don't you take computer science classes?" Jigga wha? Fuck you.
She went to the doctor today. She told me over the phone while I was at Target (there were insurance problems with the syringes and pills she needs) that she wanted me to come home because she had to tell me something. She didn't get around to this news until tonight, when she whipped out a piece of paper with Vietnamese words scrawled on it.
Grandmother was saying a lot of Chinese words I didn't understand, but she got to the bottom line: This nurse is coming this Friday at 1, and I have to be there. Wait, nurse? Is this an assessment? And no fucking bothered to tell me till now?! Who the fuck arranged this???
And then I remembered I had to go to "work" Friday at 1. When I told her this, she sniped at me: "Don't tell the nurse about your work!" to which I replied, "Of course I won't tell her that, I'm telling you!!" Doesn't she understand that she made this appointment for me without telling me, without asking me if this is alright, without asking me if I have anything going on then?
I might have to cancel. Mother also needs to attend this assessment, and I don't know if she'll be able to break free, especially because Father has a doctor's appointment around then.
Oh, and after I came home, apropos of nothing, My Fucking Father says to my face, "Why don't you take computer science classes?" Jigga wha? Fuck you.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I'm Afraid Of My Car Again
First of all, the stuff I used to glue the weatherstripping on the driver's side-door came off a couple weeks ago, and it's flapping against the wind while I'm driving, slapping off the paint of my door. And it's too fucking slushy for me to do it now, so the weatherstripping will not strip the weather, as it says in its name, but the paint.
In the past week or so, however, my car has been idling roughly, very roughly, like it's about to lose power whenever I hit the brake or put it in park. I dealt with this once before, about six years ago, when I was working, and the cold weather pushed the problem of a dirty battery connection past the point of operability. I remember calling AAA twice, first to give me a jump, the second, after it became obvious that there was more of a problem than a cold battery, to tow my car, maddeningly slowly, up the tower's winch and then down and around the curves of the parking ramp. All of that mess for battery terminals that just needed cleaning.
Well, I still don't know how to do that. I'll look them up online soon, and I bought baking soda already (I know you'll need that), but I'm still scared that I'll screw it up, like I'll manage to get the terminals to touch or something and I'll electrocute myself. Plus, I don't know if I have the time to do it soon, and if a bad battery connection is the problem, my car could cut off at any time between now and a time I can address it.
But as I was driving to the gym tonight and continuing to feel the car almost give out, I'm now scared that it could be something else. Like the sparkplugs, one car shop said I need to replace soon. How long are those supposed to go for, anyway? I remember the dealership once saying that the valve timing may be off. How much does that cost? And how in the hell do you diagnose that, anyway?
And then I remember from a long time ago that another shop said I needed to replace my engine mounts. They cost a thousand bucks, so I went, actually, to the dealership for a second opinion. They said only one mount needed to be changed, and for about $300. Imagine that -- the dealership giving me a cheaper estimate than the independent shop for a repair. The dealership said that two of the mounts were loose but were still good ... but that was at least a half-decade ago. Are they no longer good now? Is that the reason behind all the fluttering sounds coming from my engine?
And then, coming home and scraping off the snow and salt from the wells of my car, I hear this knocking/clogging noise from my muffler. Holy shit, could it be the muffler? If not, is there something wrong with my muffler? I kneel down to hear closer, and then I smell these noxious fumes. Now what's going on here? Does exhaust smell like that? I thought it spewed carbon monoxide -- which is odorless. Shit, man, I don't need another fucking problem.
So you can see why I'm terrified of my old car. It may fall apart on me tomorrow.
In the past week or so, however, my car has been idling roughly, very roughly, like it's about to lose power whenever I hit the brake or put it in park. I dealt with this once before, about six years ago, when I was working, and the cold weather pushed the problem of a dirty battery connection past the point of operability. I remember calling AAA twice, first to give me a jump, the second, after it became obvious that there was more of a problem than a cold battery, to tow my car, maddeningly slowly, up the tower's winch and then down and around the curves of the parking ramp. All of that mess for battery terminals that just needed cleaning.
Well, I still don't know how to do that. I'll look them up online soon, and I bought baking soda already (I know you'll need that), but I'm still scared that I'll screw it up, like I'll manage to get the terminals to touch or something and I'll electrocute myself. Plus, I don't know if I have the time to do it soon, and if a bad battery connection is the problem, my car could cut off at any time between now and a time I can address it.
But as I was driving to the gym tonight and continuing to feel the car almost give out, I'm now scared that it could be something else. Like the sparkplugs, one car shop said I need to replace soon. How long are those supposed to go for, anyway? I remember the dealership once saying that the valve timing may be off. How much does that cost? And how in the hell do you diagnose that, anyway?
And then I remember from a long time ago that another shop said I needed to replace my engine mounts. They cost a thousand bucks, so I went, actually, to the dealership for a second opinion. They said only one mount needed to be changed, and for about $300. Imagine that -- the dealership giving me a cheaper estimate than the independent shop for a repair. The dealership said that two of the mounts were loose but were still good ... but that was at least a half-decade ago. Are they no longer good now? Is that the reason behind all the fluttering sounds coming from my engine?
And then, coming home and scraping off the snow and salt from the wells of my car, I hear this knocking/clogging noise from my muffler. Holy shit, could it be the muffler? If not, is there something wrong with my muffler? I kneel down to hear closer, and then I smell these noxious fumes. Now what's going on here? Does exhaust smell like that? I thought it spewed carbon monoxide -- which is odorless. Shit, man, I don't need another fucking problem.
So you can see why I'm terrified of my old car. It may fall apart on me tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The movie theater at the Mall of America is independently run. So they must be the only theater complex in the state that has, as a regular size, a gigantic tub of popcorn. I wish I had taken a picture of it because it is fucking huge. Ungodly.
But that didn't stop me from eating it all while catching up with the latest Harry Potter film tonight. (Aside: A mainstream movie given the freedom to become a road film. If you haven't seen it yet, think the epic scope of Lawrence of Arabia combined with the contemplative silences of Céline and Julie Go Boating. Seriously. It's refreshing to finally see a film in this series grown-up. It's way past that, actually; it's ambitious in reach, impressionistic in many places [there's an animated sequence], and very dark, especially towards the end. It is a bit long. And I feel like many of the throwaway lines would elicit laughs from those who read the book. In fact, this seems like a film for those devotees. Warner Bros. finally knows that a Harry Potter film will make millions, so director David Yates got the green light to do what's right for the adaptation. And if it seems faithful to the hardcore readers, I don't mind that one bit.) This despite the fact that I had lunch before going to "work" at the U.
Meanwhile, I went to the Target this afternoon to get Grandmother's medicine. I remember a few days ago I should stock up on deli meats. Then, I looked inside the refrigerator and decided I could hold off on the deli meats. Well, I probably forgot that second thought because I bought them. And even though I laid them in my room to thaw (I also bought baking soda, and I thought the baking soda was the only thing in the bag), as soon as I got home I made myself a sandwich. This despite the facts that I had this big-ass tub of popcorn and I had hot chocolate, too.
I should have saved that sandwich for some other time, a time when I didn't have dinner. Instead, tonight I had dinner, then a late-night beverage, then a midnight snack. No wonder why I'm fat. It's always been boom or bust for me when it comes to going out. When I stay home in the evening, I usually don't have anything after dinner. But when I go out, man, I hoover everything on my way around town, then get home and eat some more. It's a paradox, really, one I should stop.
But that didn't stop me from eating it all while catching up with the latest Harry Potter film tonight. (Aside: A mainstream movie given the freedom to become a road film. If you haven't seen it yet, think the epic scope of Lawrence of Arabia combined with the contemplative silences of Céline and Julie Go Boating. Seriously. It's refreshing to finally see a film in this series grown-up. It's way past that, actually; it's ambitious in reach, impressionistic in many places [there's an animated sequence], and very dark, especially towards the end. It is a bit long. And I feel like many of the throwaway lines would elicit laughs from those who read the book. In fact, this seems like a film for those devotees. Warner Bros. finally knows that a Harry Potter film will make millions, so director David Yates got the green light to do what's right for the adaptation. And if it seems faithful to the hardcore readers, I don't mind that one bit.) This despite the fact that I had lunch before going to "work" at the U.
Meanwhile, I went to the Target this afternoon to get Grandmother's medicine. I remember a few days ago I should stock up on deli meats. Then, I looked inside the refrigerator and decided I could hold off on the deli meats. Well, I probably forgot that second thought because I bought them. And even though I laid them in my room to thaw (I also bought baking soda, and I thought the baking soda was the only thing in the bag), as soon as I got home I made myself a sandwich. This despite the facts that I had this big-ass tub of popcorn and I had hot chocolate, too.
I should have saved that sandwich for some other time, a time when I didn't have dinner. Instead, tonight I had dinner, then a late-night beverage, then a midnight snack. No wonder why I'm fat. It's always been boom or bust for me when it comes to going out. When I stay home in the evening, I usually don't have anything after dinner. But when I go out, man, I hoover everything on my way around town, then get home and eat some more. It's a paradox, really, one I should stop.
Monday, January 10, 2011
List Of Stuff I Donated To Goodwill The Other Day
I've always meant to use this blog as a way to keep track of stuff. I have done that sparingly with my Grandmother's doctor's visits. I will do that now with the bag of old and used clothes I gave Goodwill. I want to write down when I went and gave it, but I will edit this if I find it later, and besides, it's not that important.
Anyway, I gave the following:
Anyway, I gave the following:
- 2 black jeans
- 2 boxers (red and green)
- 7 pairs of socks
Sunday, January 9, 2011
My Forgetfulness Knows No Bounds
Friday was my second day of working on the garage. I thought I had stumbled upon a breakthrough when I learned that I could close the garage door on the wall console. When I told Chamberlain about it, they told me that's usually the case. Wah-wah-wahhhh. What was still wrong with the sensors were either the sensors or the wires leading to the sensors. To figure out which one it is, the representative (who, by the way, was the same woman who helped me the day before, coincidentally enough -- and I was so glad to get Lois again, by the way, so thank you!) told me I need to do a "short-wire" test. That sounded complicated, so I decided I would leave instead.
I was so glad to be done with it, such as it is. If I could close it, at that point that was fine, even if I had to go down all the way to the basement and close the door that way (I didn't know you could still open it from the remote; you just can't close it). I ain't no engineer or handyman. I just don't want to deal with it anymore. So I took my laptop and went out for some coffee and time to bang out some columns.
But as I sat down at the coffeeshop, oh, I forgot my phone! Whatever; I had work to do and frankly, I didn't give a shit. So I worked until it was time where, if my parents were to call me home for dinner, they would have.
And when I promptly came home My Fucking Mother was fucking yelling at me at a level I hadn't heard since she went off on me after I told her I was going to see my sister get married in Europe. "Goddamn you, you left the basement door wide open! You let all the cold in -- and the rats, too!! And you left your phone on the floor, who does that?!?!?!"
Whoops. Seems like in my rush to leave and the euphoria of "fixing the problem," I totally forgot that I left the basement door leading to the garage wide open. I guess I thought that I needed to go back, but I knew then and there I was done with it. I really don't know how I could totally fuck up like that and forget. But I know I'm capable of that, that I have that awful, awful oversight in me.
Normally, if My Mother said, "I'm gonna beat the shit outta you!" that'd be reason enough to start a fight so hellacious the house would burn down. But I knew I screwed up royally, so I just said I'm sorry, I just totally spaced out.
And the weird thing was, she seemed to accept that. Dinner went without incident, and Mother and I spoke to each other like nothing happened. Because it was over. Probably because I've seen her totally forget to do things too. That's how her temper is: We will have these vicious, epochal battles once in a while, but most of the time we're just cool with each other.
I was so glad to be done with it, such as it is. If I could close it, at that point that was fine, even if I had to go down all the way to the basement and close the door that way (I didn't know you could still open it from the remote; you just can't close it). I ain't no engineer or handyman. I just don't want to deal with it anymore. So I took my laptop and went out for some coffee and time to bang out some columns.
But as I sat down at the coffeeshop, oh, I forgot my phone! Whatever; I had work to do and frankly, I didn't give a shit. So I worked until it was time where, if my parents were to call me home for dinner, they would have.
And when I promptly came home My Fucking Mother was fucking yelling at me at a level I hadn't heard since she went off on me after I told her I was going to see my sister get married in Europe. "Goddamn you, you left the basement door wide open! You let all the cold in -- and the rats, too!! And you left your phone on the floor, who does that?!?!?!"
Whoops. Seems like in my rush to leave and the euphoria of "fixing the problem," I totally forgot that I left the basement door leading to the garage wide open. I guess I thought that I needed to go back, but I knew then and there I was done with it. I really don't know how I could totally fuck up like that and forget. But I know I'm capable of that, that I have that awful, awful oversight in me.
Normally, if My Mother said, "I'm gonna beat the shit outta you!" that'd be reason enough to start a fight so hellacious the house would burn down. But I knew I screwed up royally, so I just said I'm sorry, I just totally spaced out.
And the weird thing was, she seemed to accept that. Dinner went without incident, and Mother and I spoke to each other like nothing happened. Because it was over. Probably because I've seen her totally forget to do things too. That's how her temper is: We will have these vicious, epochal battles once in a while, but most of the time we're just cool with each other.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Wild (Last Week: -3). The winner of the first WMNSS lost this past eight days and is placed ahead of a team that didn't lose this screening week +1 (Note: I always start the new year moving the days of the week so that the first WMNSS ends the 7th, or thereabouts. The last one went up to the 30th of December, so this one encompasses eight days, New Year's Eve to the 7th [with some hedging for games that have finished Saturday afternoon, depending on whether or not I finish the survey overnight or not]). New Year's Eve was the day the Wild embarrassingly lost 4-1 at home to Nashville. But the have ripped off three straight since, and that makes them 7-3 in their last ten. We're so down on them and yet they have had a pretty good stretch this part of the season. In a weak Northwest Division, that could help a lot more than it looks at first. Therefore, I'll throw these substitutes for the North Stars a bone and put them in the top spot.
The feedback of the win over the Bastard Winnipeg Jets is a head-scratcher. The game itself was crazy; the Wild were up 3-1 when the Coyotes scored 13 seconds apart early in the third period. The Wild scored, then the Coyotes tied, then the Coyotes took the lead with three minutes left to go in regulation. But Pierre Marc-Bouchard saved the team from another shameful loss with a slapshot with 26 seconds left.
Tying the game went down to the wire; winning it in extra time was over just like that. PMB fed Cam Barker on a one-timer, and the wild win in OT, 6-5. They may be floating on the afterglow of that wild, Wild win, beating hapless New Jersey (and charter Wild Head Coach Jacques Lemaire) in New Jersey and then Boston in Boston. Very weird fact: The Wild are perfect all-time in Boston; this is their sixth straight win. That's a great, though strange, trend to lord over the current leaders of the Northeast Division.
The Wild themselves are still only third in the Northwest Division, so they still have a ways to go. Tonight (Saturday night) they face the Pittsburgh Penguins without Sidney Crosby (whew!), then immediately come home to face The Team That Was Stolen From Us; they then visit Nashville Tuesday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Re-Entry!). They haven't played in so long, I thought this was a college football team. But they weren't rusty, notching a sweep with wins of 4-0 and 5-1. Of course, this was against MSU-Mankato, and this was at home, but still. Normally, a perfect weekend (capped off by that 5-1 victory that just got done this early evening) means the Gopher women's hockey team would be #-1. But the reason I don't comes to town next weekend: If they can't beat the elite teams, such as UMD, it doesn't matter what cupcakes they beat.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -4). They finally get a win, a 67-63 win over doormat Indiana (aside: this is the second year of Tom Crean taking over IU. I think a little more progress is expected, and I don't see it) to open their home season. A team that's 21st in the rankings should not be struggling to beat bad squads. This week: at second-ranked Ohio St. tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon, home vs. Purdue Thursday.
#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -2). A 1-3 week, but I was at one of those three losses. I got a free ticket to the game Wednesday against Charlotte, and I'm afraid that loss confirms that I should never buy a ticket to see a Woofie Dogs game ever again.
They were up in the first quarter until the Bobcats came back to lead by the end of it. Charlotte then opened up a lead in the second by as many as 16, and the Wolves were behind by several points at the half. Suddenly, and shockingly, the Timberwolves came back to tie and eventually lead in the fourth. But with a few minutes left and them clinging to a four- or six-point lead, I knew there was a good chance they'd lose, or at least lose the lead. And they did, through offensive miscues, defensive breakdowns and the Bobcats getting to the free-throw line.
They didn't lose in regulation; they went to OT. And though it was back-and-forth, Charlotte finally got a three-point/two-possession lead late in the game. On the final play in OT and the Timberwolves down by 3, they looked absolutely befuddled in getting a play set up. Michael Beasley had to throw up a three-point shot. Of course it missed.
So as I kept telling my friend, we saw first a blowout, and then a collapse. We saw two, two, two losses in one!!!
This virtually wipes out the New Year's Day victory over New Jersey. They also lost at Boston (playing without Kevin Garnett) despite having a lead, and home to Portland where they never were in it. A home-and-home with San Antonio, then hosting Flip Saunders and Washington this week.
#-5: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). I went to the New Year's Day doubleheader. First of all, Bemidji St. won the Mariucci Classic despite having a losing record. Second of all, a college called Union has a top-flight men's hockey team -- and I think they're ranked.
Third of all, the Gophers are an incredibly maddening team. You should see the roster lists for the Gophs and the other three teams in the tournament. The other teams have one, one, and zero players drafted into the NHL. Minnesota's roster is replete with capitalized three-letter notes indicating which team has that player's rights. On the ice, I see the virtuosity on the ice; they can pass the puck with verve and fluidity. But then they turn the puck over in their defensive zone and the opponent, which on Saturday was Ferris St., scores. And so they tie the Bulldogs at 2 ... and this was after a 3-2 overtime loss to the Dutchmen (the nickname for Union College) New Year's Eve. Fuck this team. Seriously, fuck this team. Besides an exhibition against the U.S. Under-18 team last (Friday) night, they're off until visiting North Dakota next weekend.
#-6: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). The Pam Borton Era is over, or it should be. Two games at home. Lost both. Worst of all, the Gophs coughed up double-digit, second-half leads in both games to lose, the former of which ended in overtime.
Just glanced at the roster. Only seven of the 13 players are from Minnesota. If you're going to lose, why not lose with local kids? Just a thought.
I haven't been to a game in years. I should go, just to check out how this program has deteriortated and how much the crowd, so proud to find a good women's b-ball team, has atrophied. It won't be this week -- they visit Wisconsin and Penn St. Say hello to 0-5 in the Big Ten, ladies.
#-Infinity: Vikings (Last Week: -1). I was about to watch the final game of this disappointing, very disappointing season against Detroit. But Sunday was the last day of this lauded exhibition at the Walker by this local photographer, Alec Soth. I didn't really want to go outside the house, but I was fairly certain the ViQueens were going to lose, so I went out. The exhibition was OK, but coming back I heard that they did indeed lose to the Motor City Kitties, so I did the right thing.
Wow, what a thud. The Vikings, which I predicted would win it all this year, got old fast, and they finish last in the NFC North. Even worse than the Lions. Fucking A. That makes me think this team needs to be blown up, but they still have Adrian Peterson, Sidney Rice, Percy Harvin, Jared Allen, Kevin Williams, Antoine Winfield, Chad Greenway, Ben Leber, E.J. Henderson, and Ryan Longwell. I guess I could settle for an overhaul of the offensive line and the secondary.
Leslie Frazier was the cogent choice. However, he finished leading this interim stint at 3-3. Maybe Owner Zygi Wilf explored a home-run choice, like Bill Cowher or Jon Gruden, and failed. That's OK if he went with the safe option. But if this is the "players' choice" for coach, wouldn't he inspire them enough to notch a better record than 3-3?
Whatever. They're still going to California in two years.
The feedback of the win over the Bastard Winnipeg Jets is a head-scratcher. The game itself was crazy; the Wild were up 3-1 when the Coyotes scored 13 seconds apart early in the third period. The Wild scored, then the Coyotes tied, then the Coyotes took the lead with three minutes left to go in regulation. But Pierre Marc-Bouchard saved the team from another shameful loss with a slapshot with 26 seconds left.
Tying the game went down to the wire; winning it in extra time was over just like that. PMB fed Cam Barker on a one-timer, and the wild win in OT, 6-5. They may be floating on the afterglow of that wild, Wild win, beating hapless New Jersey (and charter Wild Head Coach Jacques Lemaire) in New Jersey and then Boston in Boston. Very weird fact: The Wild are perfect all-time in Boston; this is their sixth straight win. That's a great, though strange, trend to lord over the current leaders of the Northeast Division.
The Wild themselves are still only third in the Northwest Division, so they still have a ways to go. Tonight (Saturday night) they face the Pittsburgh Penguins without Sidney Crosby (whew!), then immediately come home to face The Team That Was Stolen From Us; they then visit Nashville Tuesday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Re-Entry!). They haven't played in so long, I thought this was a college football team. But they weren't rusty, notching a sweep with wins of 4-0 and 5-1. Of course, this was against MSU-Mankato, and this was at home, but still. Normally, a perfect weekend (capped off by that 5-1 victory that just got done this early evening) means the Gopher women's hockey team would be #-1. But the reason I don't comes to town next weekend: If they can't beat the elite teams, such as UMD, it doesn't matter what cupcakes they beat.
#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -4). They finally get a win, a 67-63 win over doormat Indiana (aside: this is the second year of Tom Crean taking over IU. I think a little more progress is expected, and I don't see it) to open their home season. A team that's 21st in the rankings should not be struggling to beat bad squads. This week: at second-ranked Ohio St. tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon, home vs. Purdue Thursday.
#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -2). A 1-3 week, but I was at one of those three losses. I got a free ticket to the game Wednesday against Charlotte, and I'm afraid that loss confirms that I should never buy a ticket to see a Woofie Dogs game ever again.
They were up in the first quarter until the Bobcats came back to lead by the end of it. Charlotte then opened up a lead in the second by as many as 16, and the Wolves were behind by several points at the half. Suddenly, and shockingly, the Timberwolves came back to tie and eventually lead in the fourth. But with a few minutes left and them clinging to a four- or six-point lead, I knew there was a good chance they'd lose, or at least lose the lead. And they did, through offensive miscues, defensive breakdowns and the Bobcats getting to the free-throw line.
They didn't lose in regulation; they went to OT. And though it was back-and-forth, Charlotte finally got a three-point/two-possession lead late in the game. On the final play in OT and the Timberwolves down by 3, they looked absolutely befuddled in getting a play set up. Michael Beasley had to throw up a three-point shot. Of course it missed.
So as I kept telling my friend, we saw first a blowout, and then a collapse. We saw two, two, two losses in one!!!
This virtually wipes out the New Year's Day victory over New Jersey. They also lost at Boston (playing without Kevin Garnett) despite having a lead, and home to Portland where they never were in it. A home-and-home with San Antonio, then hosting Flip Saunders and Washington this week.
#-5: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). I went to the New Year's Day doubleheader. First of all, Bemidji St. won the Mariucci Classic despite having a losing record. Second of all, a college called Union has a top-flight men's hockey team -- and I think they're ranked.
Third of all, the Gophers are an incredibly maddening team. You should see the roster lists for the Gophs and the other three teams in the tournament. The other teams have one, one, and zero players drafted into the NHL. Minnesota's roster is replete with capitalized three-letter notes indicating which team has that player's rights. On the ice, I see the virtuosity on the ice; they can pass the puck with verve and fluidity. But then they turn the puck over in their defensive zone and the opponent, which on Saturday was Ferris St., scores. And so they tie the Bulldogs at 2 ... and this was after a 3-2 overtime loss to the Dutchmen (the nickname for Union College) New Year's Eve. Fuck this team. Seriously, fuck this team. Besides an exhibition against the U.S. Under-18 team last (Friday) night, they're off until visiting North Dakota next weekend.
#-6: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). The Pam Borton Era is over, or it should be. Two games at home. Lost both. Worst of all, the Gophs coughed up double-digit, second-half leads in both games to lose, the former of which ended in overtime.
Just glanced at the roster. Only seven of the 13 players are from Minnesota. If you're going to lose, why not lose with local kids? Just a thought.
I haven't been to a game in years. I should go, just to check out how this program has deteriortated and how much the crowd, so proud to find a good women's b-ball team, has atrophied. It won't be this week -- they visit Wisconsin and Penn St. Say hello to 0-5 in the Big Ten, ladies.
#-Infinity: Vikings (Last Week: -1). I was about to watch the final game of this disappointing, very disappointing season against Detroit. But Sunday was the last day of this lauded exhibition at the Walker by this local photographer, Alec Soth. I didn't really want to go outside the house, but I was fairly certain the ViQueens were going to lose, so I went out. The exhibition was OK, but coming back I heard that they did indeed lose to the Motor City Kitties, so I did the right thing.
Wow, what a thud. The Vikings, which I predicted would win it all this year, got old fast, and they finish last in the NFC North. Even worse than the Lions. Fucking A. That makes me think this team needs to be blown up, but they still have Adrian Peterson, Sidney Rice, Percy Harvin, Jared Allen, Kevin Williams, Antoine Winfield, Chad Greenway, Ben Leber, E.J. Henderson, and Ryan Longwell. I guess I could settle for an overhaul of the offensive line and the secondary.
Leslie Frazier was the cogent choice. However, he finished leading this interim stint at 3-3. Maybe Owner Zygi Wilf explored a home-run choice, like Bill Cowher or Jon Gruden, and failed. That's OK if he went with the safe option. But if this is the "players' choice" for coach, wouldn't he inspire them enough to notch a better record than 3-3?
Whatever. They're still going to California in two years.
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