Saturday afternoon Grandmother abruptly goes to the casino with her friend. I tell my parents that when they come home. And all of a sudden My Fucking Father turns into fucking Ty Pennington.
Before I know it, he's tearing into what was my sister's old room. Since she moved over to my brother's room, it's been used mostly as a storage space. Grandmother uses it most often; she threw her tapes, old VCR's, and clothing in there. We all have a room that we store all our shit in, and that was ours. Until now.
When My Fucking Father doesn't give a shit about sentimentality, which is always when he's cleaning out stuff that's not his, he can fucking go. In about half an hour he had about one-third of the stuff in there out in the hallway, categorized into boxes. Unlike when he fucking invaded my goddamn room and moved all my shit out -- for which I still haven't forgiven him for, and for which I will have my revenge, somehow -- he didn't immediately throw out all the stuff in there that was mine, namely my books, magazines, tapes of reality shows I recorded off the TV, and my box of Playbills and game programs.
But Grandmother's stuff? He didn't give a flying fuck. I came out of my room after watching a snippet of college basketball and he ordered me to throw those boxes into their minivan. One box was just a bunch of bags. Another? Shoes. And another had Chinese clothing. It may have been hers, but it seemed to be those for a baby. Either way, I think they were Grandmother's, or at least untiil My Fucking Father ordered me to toss them.
That is such a waste, I thought to myself as I was doing what he said. Why the fuck can't he just let things lie? At the very least, the very least, I could take these things to the Goodwill. I don't think he'd be stupid enough to literally dump them like he said, but who knows how he'd be when he gets a head of steam like he did on Saturday?
I didn't like it when he threw away my shit, so I wanted to go behind his back to help Grandmother. But she wasn't there. In fact, I think that if she was at home, My Fucking Father wouldn't toss over the room. Now that most of her stuff was now in my parents' car, I hatched a plan: I was going out that evening, and I would take out all of the bags that had something valuable, like clothes or shoes, and on Sunday I'd show it to her. If she wants them, I'll put them in her bedroom. If not, I'll donate them. Makes sense to me, and it'd be a passive-aggressive snub to the nose of My Fucking Father.
What I didn't plan on was Grandmother just taking it. She actually came home from the casino while I was in the bathroom preparing to leave for the evening. With my parents still prepping stuff in the kitchen, I think Grandmother coming home to find most of her shit gone would've made for an awkward situation. So I asked her -- quietly, in her room, while I was testing her blood sugar -- if she wanted me to retrieve some of the items that are in the old folks' minivan. Because I would've done it.
But she said no. "He's just cleaning out the room. Let him," she said. I was floored. This was her stuff; wasn't she angry that someone is, basically, taking it away from her?
Then again, maybe I shouldn't be surprised at her who-cares attitude. She's the type of person who would cook something on the stove or toaster oven and completely forget because she's on the phone with a friend. And my uncle once made a joke that she would make a bet at a gambling table and then just walk away. Either she's forgetful or she just likes to buy stuff for the adrenaline rush she gets from actually buying the stuff.
At any rate, I let it go. When I came back home late Saturday, I went right into the house, without taking anything out of the minivan. It is gone -- to my parents' store, to the dumpster, who knows.
I don't know, but something I think I'm the only one who gives a shit about material things.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
An Unheralded Tribute To The Men And Women In Our Armed Forces
We are still in the middle of two wars. I don't mean that to be glib; I am not a teabagger who's using that as an excuse to, say, give tax cuts to the rich or bust the unions. But life goes on for us without us noticing, at least not anymore, that people are dying representing the country we live in and take for granted.
But not Jim Lehrer, lead anchor for The PBS NewsHour. When we invaded Iraq, Lehrer, back when the show was called The NewsHour With Jim Lehrer, started a segment called "The Honor Roll": At the end of every broadcast, there's a montage of fatalities. There is a single template: Photo of the officer on the left, rank, name, age, and hometown on the right. "We add them as their deaths become official and photos become available," Lehrer intoned. In 2006 those killed in Afghanistan were added to "The Honor Roll." And he still does that today, although usually on Fridays instead of every broadcast.
That's it. And in that simple, unadorned way, he brings proper dignity to the high cost of waging war to defend our country and our ideals. "Here, in silence ..." is what Lehrer says, and still says, and I'm grateful that there is no overwrought music to tell us how to feel, or flashy graphics that make it all about the broadcaster. Also, that The PBS NewsHour is still doing this, almost a decade after Afghanistan and almost eight years after Iraq, shows that, even though we're now worried about rising debt and cutting spending, there is still one media authority who cares about the American Soldier, and will do its part to remember in tribute those who have died in our name.
So, if you ever run across your PBS station, I'd advise you to stop and take a couple minutes to look at the pictures of the men and women who have perished overseas. I usually stop, put my remote down, and look. (Or, you can go online and leaf through the "Honor Roll" database.) You'll notice that all of them are very, very young; I'm certain that only two or three of the soldiers I've seen in these montages over the years were older than me. I guess you can do more than shake your head over the loss of such young lives. But anything that serves its purpose as a reality check should always be welcome.
But not Jim Lehrer, lead anchor for The PBS NewsHour. When we invaded Iraq, Lehrer, back when the show was called The NewsHour With Jim Lehrer, started a segment called "The Honor Roll": At the end of every broadcast, there's a montage of fatalities. There is a single template: Photo of the officer on the left, rank, name, age, and hometown on the right. "We add them as their deaths become official and photos become available," Lehrer intoned. In 2006 those killed in Afghanistan were added to "The Honor Roll." And he still does that today, although usually on Fridays instead of every broadcast.
That's it. And in that simple, unadorned way, he brings proper dignity to the high cost of waging war to defend our country and our ideals. "Here, in silence ..." is what Lehrer says, and still says, and I'm grateful that there is no overwrought music to tell us how to feel, or flashy graphics that make it all about the broadcaster. Also, that The PBS NewsHour is still doing this, almost a decade after Afghanistan and almost eight years after Iraq, shows that, even though we're now worried about rising debt and cutting spending, there is still one media authority who cares about the American Soldier, and will do its part to remember in tribute those who have died in our name.
So, if you ever run across your PBS station, I'd advise you to stop and take a couple minutes to look at the pictures of the men and women who have perished overseas. I usually stop, put my remote down, and look. (Or, you can go online and leaf through the "Honor Roll" database.) You'll notice that all of them are very, very young; I'm certain that only two or three of the soldiers I've seen in these montages over the years were older than me. I guess you can do more than shake your head over the loss of such young lives. But anything that serves its purpose as a reality check should always be welcome.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -1). In a week where no team had a clean sheet, the Gopher male icers somehow repeat on top after tying at #12 Wisconsin Saturday and whipping bottom-feeder Michigan Tech Friday. They are now unbeaten in their last four games. And Forward Jacob Cepis was named WCHA Co-Offensive Player Of The Week, in part for scoring a goal and an assist in the 3-3 tie with the Badgers. Cepis now leads the team with 27 points.
More importantly, the Gophers seem to be back in the rankings. They currently rank 20th in the USCHO.com Top 20. More imporantly, they are now tied for 19th in the Pairwise Rankings. In men's ice hockey, selections are essentially taken from the Pairwise list. If they can sweep the Huskies tonight (Saturday night) and beat Bemidji St. at Bemidjit St. Friday. ... I'm just shocked that the squad is in a position to be this close to the NCAA Tournament so late in the season.
#-2: Wild (Last Week: -3). I remember when Mario Lemieux scored The Five Ways you can score a goal: even strength, power play, short-handed, penalty shot, and empty net. The Wild's week reminded me of that. The club won, won in overtime, lost in a shootout, and lost. They just needed two more games this week to win in a shootout and lose in OT.
In a perfectly symmetrical screening week, they managed to get five points. Suddenly, and without me knowing it, they are tied for fifth in the Western Conference standings. Still, you are talking about the wild, wild West, and the Wild are just two points out of tenth. But, you have to feel good about the way they're playing right now. I haven't been this pleased with this club in several years. Let's face it; they are the best sports team in town right now.
This week: home to Chicago, then, in their final trip eastbound, they head to New York City to face the Islanders and Rangers back-to-back.
#-3: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A bad, bad loss to #8 North Dakota in the regular season finale last Saturday busted them down to third place in the WCHA. Have they ever finished that low ever? (A caveat: They technically tied with UMD for second place, but they lose the tiebreaker.)
They began the conference tournament by defeating Ohio St. in Ridder last (Friday) night, 4-2. They can sweep the best-of-three series with a win this (Saturday) afternoon, and if even if they don't, they play at home for a series-deciding game Sunday afternoon. Whoever wins advances to the Final Faceoff which will be at, you guessed it, Ridder starting Friday.
As for the tournament that matters: The Gopher distaff icers currently are tied for fourth in the Pairwise. With auto-bids, they should be one of the four at-large teams to make it to the Ice Dance. But what if they lose the series to the Buckeyes? Could happen, but I shudder to think.
Oh, by the way, Defenseman Megan Bozek is this week's conference Defensive Player Of The Week. She assisted twice in the loss to the Fighting Sioux.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -7). A home loss to Boston followed by a road win against Colorado keeps the Swarm at .500 and a game behind Calgary for the lead in the Western Conference. One observation: The Swarm have scored the same number of goals as the Roughnecks while allowing one less goal.
There are regular season games this weekend, but the club doesn't have one. After Sunday's National Lacrosse League All-Star Game, in which four Swarm players are participating, the team will go back to Colorado and play the bottom-feeding Mammoth again on Friday.
#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). Team's playing out the string, but they eke out a split on the road. They lose at Northwestern, which went to 6-9 in-conference as a result of the win, in an all-too-familiar way: Like many defeats this year, they choked away a lead (six points Sunday afternoon). Kiara Buford got to 1,000 career points in the loss.
Then somehow they bounced back and beat Michigan in Ann Arbor in double overtime, 82-78. The Gophers are now 4-11 in the Big Ten, yet they swept a Wolverines team that's 9-6 in conference play. One final regular season game: They have Senior Day Sunday afternoon against a Top Ten team in Michigan St. I'm taking a guess that it'll be downhill after the pregame ceremony. They then begin the Big Ten Tournament in Indianapolis. Since they suck, they'll definitely play Thursday ... and, in another guess, they'll lost Thursday, too.
#-6: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -6). A 1-2 week. On Saturday they upset ninth-ranked UConn, 3-2. But then they finish their portion of the Big Ten/Big East Challenge by getting shut out at #20 Louisville, 3-0. I didn't know there were two ranked teams from the Big East. Anyway, they lose the first game of the Wake Forest Tournament yesterday (Friday) by coughing up a 4-2 lead to the host Demon Deacons, who scored five runs in the seventh inning and beat the Gophs, 7-5. They finish the tourney with games against Towson and Delaware St., then begin the Dairy Queen Classic by playing South Alabama Friday.
#-7: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -4). It was a huge showdown, but at the end they were exposed as incapable. The Gophers lose in The Barn to second-ranked Iowa, 19-12. They finish with a perfect conference record and the Big Ten title; Minnesota winds up in a second-place tie with Penn St.
So, you can say that at this point these guys are the third-best program in the conference. Can they change that fate in the Big Ten Championships, which start next week?
#-8: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -5). People scared that the Gophers wouldn't make the NCAA Tournament if it were to start before the week began needed to call down; all the bracket projections I saw had them as a nine-seed. Not anymore. This is now time to panic.
One game, but a sickening, disgusting loss to Michigan St. They led 47-39 with 4:31 left in the second ... and didn't score from the field the rest of the game. They only scored one free throw. Bad shooting plus an inability to hold onto the ball when it counted destroyed this team. The Spartans aren't good this year, yet they outscored the Goofs 14-1 to close out the game and win, 53-48. They have now lost six out of their last seven games. Seriously, what the fuck? They host Michigan this (Saturday) afternoon, then visit Northwestern on Wednesday.
One bright spot: Guard Blake Hoffarber was named Second Team Academic All-American Wednesday. If only he could play the point as well as studying finance.
#-9: Timberwolves (Last Week: -9). Lost all three games this week. Their streak is now seven. But at least Kevin Love now has 45 consecutive double-doubles! Yay!! This week: home to Golden State and The Team That Was Stolen From Us, then at Detroit and Philadelphia.
More importantly, the Gophers seem to be back in the rankings. They currently rank 20th in the USCHO.com Top 20. More imporantly, they are now tied for 19th in the Pairwise Rankings. In men's ice hockey, selections are essentially taken from the Pairwise list. If they can sweep the Huskies tonight (Saturday night) and beat Bemidji St. at Bemidjit St. Friday. ... I'm just shocked that the squad is in a position to be this close to the NCAA Tournament so late in the season.
#-2: Wild (Last Week: -3). I remember when Mario Lemieux scored The Five Ways you can score a goal: even strength, power play, short-handed, penalty shot, and empty net. The Wild's week reminded me of that. The club won, won in overtime, lost in a shootout, and lost. They just needed two more games this week to win in a shootout and lose in OT.
In a perfectly symmetrical screening week, they managed to get five points. Suddenly, and without me knowing it, they are tied for fifth in the Western Conference standings. Still, you are talking about the wild, wild West, and the Wild are just two points out of tenth. But, you have to feel good about the way they're playing right now. I haven't been this pleased with this club in several years. Let's face it; they are the best sports team in town right now.
This week: home to Chicago, then, in their final trip eastbound, they head to New York City to face the Islanders and Rangers back-to-back.
#-3: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A bad, bad loss to #8 North Dakota in the regular season finale last Saturday busted them down to third place in the WCHA. Have they ever finished that low ever? (A caveat: They technically tied with UMD for second place, but they lose the tiebreaker.)
They began the conference tournament by defeating Ohio St. in Ridder last (Friday) night, 4-2. They can sweep the best-of-three series with a win this (Saturday) afternoon, and if even if they don't, they play at home for a series-deciding game Sunday afternoon. Whoever wins advances to the Final Faceoff which will be at, you guessed it, Ridder starting Friday.
As for the tournament that matters: The Gopher distaff icers currently are tied for fourth in the Pairwise. With auto-bids, they should be one of the four at-large teams to make it to the Ice Dance. But what if they lose the series to the Buckeyes? Could happen, but I shudder to think.
Oh, by the way, Defenseman Megan Bozek is this week's conference Defensive Player Of The Week. She assisted twice in the loss to the Fighting Sioux.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -7). A home loss to Boston followed by a road win against Colorado keeps the Swarm at .500 and a game behind Calgary for the lead in the Western Conference. One observation: The Swarm have scored the same number of goals as the Roughnecks while allowing one less goal.
There are regular season games this weekend, but the club doesn't have one. After Sunday's National Lacrosse League All-Star Game, in which four Swarm players are participating, the team will go back to Colorado and play the bottom-feeding Mammoth again on Friday.
#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). Team's playing out the string, but they eke out a split on the road. They lose at Northwestern, which went to 6-9 in-conference as a result of the win, in an all-too-familiar way: Like many defeats this year, they choked away a lead (six points Sunday afternoon). Kiara Buford got to 1,000 career points in the loss.
Then somehow they bounced back and beat Michigan in Ann Arbor in double overtime, 82-78. The Gophers are now 4-11 in the Big Ten, yet they swept a Wolverines team that's 9-6 in conference play. One final regular season game: They have Senior Day Sunday afternoon against a Top Ten team in Michigan St. I'm taking a guess that it'll be downhill after the pregame ceremony. They then begin the Big Ten Tournament in Indianapolis. Since they suck, they'll definitely play Thursday ... and, in another guess, they'll lost Thursday, too.
#-6: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -6). A 1-2 week. On Saturday they upset ninth-ranked UConn, 3-2. But then they finish their portion of the Big Ten/Big East Challenge by getting shut out at #20 Louisville, 3-0. I didn't know there were two ranked teams from the Big East. Anyway, they lose the first game of the Wake Forest Tournament yesterday (Friday) by coughing up a 4-2 lead to the host Demon Deacons, who scored five runs in the seventh inning and beat the Gophs, 7-5. They finish the tourney with games against Towson and Delaware St., then begin the Dairy Queen Classic by playing South Alabama Friday.
#-7: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -4). It was a huge showdown, but at the end they were exposed as incapable. The Gophers lose in The Barn to second-ranked Iowa, 19-12. They finish with a perfect conference record and the Big Ten title; Minnesota winds up in a second-place tie with Penn St.
So, you can say that at this point these guys are the third-best program in the conference. Can they change that fate in the Big Ten Championships, which start next week?
#-8: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -5). People scared that the Gophers wouldn't make the NCAA Tournament if it were to start before the week began needed to call down; all the bracket projections I saw had them as a nine-seed. Not anymore. This is now time to panic.
One game, but a sickening, disgusting loss to Michigan St. They led 47-39 with 4:31 left in the second ... and didn't score from the field the rest of the game. They only scored one free throw. Bad shooting plus an inability to hold onto the ball when it counted destroyed this team. The Spartans aren't good this year, yet they outscored the Goofs 14-1 to close out the game and win, 53-48. They have now lost six out of their last seven games. Seriously, what the fuck? They host Michigan this (Saturday) afternoon, then visit Northwestern on Wednesday.
One bright spot: Guard Blake Hoffarber was named Second Team Academic All-American Wednesday. If only he could play the point as well as studying finance.
#-9: Timberwolves (Last Week: -9). Lost all three games this week. Their streak is now seven. But at least Kevin Love now has 45 consecutive double-doubles! Yay!! This week: home to Golden State and The Team That Was Stolen From Us, then at Detroit and Philadelphia.
Friday, February 25, 2011
This blog posts is an extension of the last one, which in turn was an extension of the one before it. They're all connected, in a way.
On Wednesday I wore my U. sweater. It's the thickest sweater I have, and it's perfect for cold winter days. Now, Wednesday wasn't necessarily cold; in fact, I think daytime highs broke the freezing mark. But just in case I wanted to walk to the lab without my trenchcoat, I would still feel toasty.
When I put it on, I told myself I have to remember one thing: Take it off before Father comes home. On Saturday a somewhat confused Dad told me I should go back to school. I didn't want to tempt fate and invite another lecture if seeing the U. logo emblazoned on my sweater triggered those thoughts again.
Also, have I told you my left headlight burned out? Oh yeah, it burned out some time last week, I think. I was leaving for the gym and I turned on my lights. I was looking down, and I sensed this bright light right in front of me just for a millisecond. When I looked up, the lights seemed normal. But I had a funny feeling. I turned them off and turned them back on again, and while I could see a light reflected off the garage door on the passenger side, all I saw in front of me was darkness.
I think, in screenwriting terms, this is called a plant.
---
Anyway, so after work I called Father to see if he wanted me to take another shot at Walgreen's. He said yes. Good; I can go there for another reason besides trying to get back the American Express statement I left there the night before. And on the way I can deposit my money ... need to shore up those funds with me having no money anymore and all.
So I park equidistant from the pharmacy and the bank, which is the lot for city hall. When I go out, right in front of me is the entrance to the city. And then I remembered something that I wanted to ask the city for a long time: How early in the day can I operate a lawnmower and snowblower? It was a little bit before 4 o'clock, and this too was on the way to my other chores, and I don't know if I'd remember to ask ever again. I had the opportunity, so what the hell, I marched into my City Hall to ask.
Well, information didn't know and sent me downstairs to the police station in the basement because it's a noise ordinance issue; on the way, another worker there asked me to let her know what the answer is when I came back up. At the station I was met at the desk by a woman, protective glass between us. I asked; she didn't know off the top of her head, so she went to the back to check the ordinance. Uh-oh.
She got to the ordinance quickly. Weekdays 7 to 9, weekends and holidays 9 to 9. Great, thank you! But ... they only specifically say lawnmowers in this. She said that the law covers all outside operable equipment, but it mentioned a possible exception for snowblowers. So she checked the book a little more. Uh-oh.
She couldn't find any more information, so she assumed that snowblowers can only be turned on the same times as lawnmowers ... but, she wanted to make absolutely sure, so she immediately went to her phone and called up someone in the back. "He's looking it up right now," she said.
I looked at the clock on a column behind her. It was a bit past 4 now. I enjoy walks, but the one to the bank, then the one to the pharmacy, then the one back to my car wasn't going to be quick. Uh-oh.
I made a little small talk, then kind of said that if he couldn't find the info, that's alright. So she went to the back, and I went to the desk for the Parks & Rec Department, which was on the other side of the basement hallway to see if there were any brochures that said the city had a fitness room. If there's one that gives me remote control of the TV, I'll change because it'll be a lot closer to the gym I use now. But the woman used the intercom to call me back. As far as he could tell -- so I can't say rely on this with 100% certainty -- snowblowers can be used at any time, but that could be an exception in the ordinance only for city workers plowing the streets. To me, just to be safe, don't plow before 7 weekdays and 9 weekends. And when the parents are gone for Vegas in the winter and there's a snowstorm, if I want to operate the snowblower late at night, I can do it till 9.
I think I was there about 15 minutes, about five minutes more than I wanted to be there. The snow and ensuing slush made it not easy to traverse the terrain by foot to the bank, and then to the pharmacy. There, thankfully, the pharmacy front desk had my AmEx bill on the cash register. Unfortunately, I still couldn't get Father's meds; get the card, I was told.
---
It's 4:30 and I'm late to the coffeeshop; wanted to surf, wanted to write. And in my rush to drop my bookbag and pick up my laptop, I forgot to change. I was there maybe three minutes. My Grandmother didn't even get up. I checked her room; she was asleep. She went to the dentist's, and I guess she was so wiped out she didn't even wake up. I find it annoying whenever I come home and I hear her steps as she slowly checks what's going on in the foyer. Yet if I make such a commotion and she still doesn't get up, I'm kind of concerned. But I wasn't then. I wanted coffee.
I enjoyed my joe for an hour. When I rushed back home, I didn't see my parents' minivan. They're not home? But as I drove up the driveway, opened up the garage door and got out to scrape the snow underneath my car, I see Father bolt out the driveway. He wanted me to pick up his meds now, and he came out to give me his health insurance card. He was going to close the garage door for me, by the way. So I go back in my car and drive down ... but not before I see him look at my headlights. Oh, snap! I never told him about the headlights because I didn't want him to see. But shit, too fucking late. Winter, your early darkness screwed me as much as your snow has. And crap, he saw me with my U. sweater on. Not another talk over going back to school again. ...
---
I finally got the meds from Walgreen's (well, two of the three; for some fuckin' reason his doctor hadn't OK'd the third one, even though it's been, like, three days). Turns out they punched his number in wrong. Seriously, these guys are a fucking joke.
---
No talk over school, so I'm glad I won't have to hear that shit until my birthday next month when I turn 35. But the headlight ... I felt like I needed to head Father off at the pass about the burnt-out light. So when I came back and saw Father slouching on a chair watching the national news while waiting for Mother to finish working out, I told him about the light. He wasn't angry.
Now, fast forward to last night. I leave my car outside because I planned to go to the Community Activity Center. After dinner, he told me to use the minivan. He didn't want me to get stopped and ticketed by police. Father didn't know I was stopped, on Saturday. (The police officer let me go with a warning.) So I guess he believes that it burned out recently, like Tuesday night.
I thought, and I still think, it wasn't necessary. I've seen cars without working headlights on the street, so I think I'm going to be fine. But naturally I looked at what from this I could benefit from. And, it's the gas. At $3.50 a gallon he already barked at me last night about wasting gasoline by going everywhere. Using their van is spending nothing of my money going to exercise. The bad news is, I had to bring all my shit, my gym bag and my satellite radio, from my car to theirs. And, I wanted to take out the trash bag My Father put in the minivan. I didn't want to drive to the community center smelling trash.
Now I think I don't think Father noticed that my left headlight doesn't work anymore. It's possible that if I didn't confess after going to Walgreen's, he wouldn't be the wiser, and he would've let me use my car to work out last night. This is a problem because there will be a lot of tension if I go out in my car at night if I don't fix my headlight. Which means I need to replace it ASAP, a lot sooner than I wanted to.
But I'm going to punt today; we have pork roasting in the oven and I need to write this. I'm gunning for tomorrow, just in case I need to drive to the auto parts store and pick up a tool or something. I've already replaced my right headlight, but I'm scared I'll screw this up. Wish me luck!
On Wednesday I wore my U. sweater. It's the thickest sweater I have, and it's perfect for cold winter days. Now, Wednesday wasn't necessarily cold; in fact, I think daytime highs broke the freezing mark. But just in case I wanted to walk to the lab without my trenchcoat, I would still feel toasty.
When I put it on, I told myself I have to remember one thing: Take it off before Father comes home. On Saturday a somewhat confused Dad told me I should go back to school. I didn't want to tempt fate and invite another lecture if seeing the U. logo emblazoned on my sweater triggered those thoughts again.
Also, have I told you my left headlight burned out? Oh yeah, it burned out some time last week, I think. I was leaving for the gym and I turned on my lights. I was looking down, and I sensed this bright light right in front of me just for a millisecond. When I looked up, the lights seemed normal. But I had a funny feeling. I turned them off and turned them back on again, and while I could see a light reflected off the garage door on the passenger side, all I saw in front of me was darkness.
I think, in screenwriting terms, this is called a plant.
---
Anyway, so after work I called Father to see if he wanted me to take another shot at Walgreen's. He said yes. Good; I can go there for another reason besides trying to get back the American Express statement I left there the night before. And on the way I can deposit my money ... need to shore up those funds with me having no money anymore and all.
So I park equidistant from the pharmacy and the bank, which is the lot for city hall. When I go out, right in front of me is the entrance to the city. And then I remembered something that I wanted to ask the city for a long time: How early in the day can I operate a lawnmower and snowblower? It was a little bit before 4 o'clock, and this too was on the way to my other chores, and I don't know if I'd remember to ask ever again. I had the opportunity, so what the hell, I marched into my City Hall to ask.
Well, information didn't know and sent me downstairs to the police station in the basement because it's a noise ordinance issue; on the way, another worker there asked me to let her know what the answer is when I came back up. At the station I was met at the desk by a woman, protective glass between us. I asked; she didn't know off the top of her head, so she went to the back to check the ordinance. Uh-oh.
She got to the ordinance quickly. Weekdays 7 to 9, weekends and holidays 9 to 9. Great, thank you! But ... they only specifically say lawnmowers in this. She said that the law covers all outside operable equipment, but it mentioned a possible exception for snowblowers. So she checked the book a little more. Uh-oh.
She couldn't find any more information, so she assumed that snowblowers can only be turned on the same times as lawnmowers ... but, she wanted to make absolutely sure, so she immediately went to her phone and called up someone in the back. "He's looking it up right now," she said.
I looked at the clock on a column behind her. It was a bit past 4 now. I enjoy walks, but the one to the bank, then the one to the pharmacy, then the one back to my car wasn't going to be quick. Uh-oh.
I made a little small talk, then kind of said that if he couldn't find the info, that's alright. So she went to the back, and I went to the desk for the Parks & Rec Department, which was on the other side of the basement hallway to see if there were any brochures that said the city had a fitness room. If there's one that gives me remote control of the TV, I'll change because it'll be a lot closer to the gym I use now. But the woman used the intercom to call me back. As far as he could tell -- so I can't say rely on this with 100% certainty -- snowblowers can be used at any time, but that could be an exception in the ordinance only for city workers plowing the streets. To me, just to be safe, don't plow before 7 weekdays and 9 weekends. And when the parents are gone for Vegas in the winter and there's a snowstorm, if I want to operate the snowblower late at night, I can do it till 9.
I think I was there about 15 minutes, about five minutes more than I wanted to be there. The snow and ensuing slush made it not easy to traverse the terrain by foot to the bank, and then to the pharmacy. There, thankfully, the pharmacy front desk had my AmEx bill on the cash register. Unfortunately, I still couldn't get Father's meds; get the card, I was told.
---
It's 4:30 and I'm late to the coffeeshop; wanted to surf, wanted to write. And in my rush to drop my bookbag and pick up my laptop, I forgot to change. I was there maybe three minutes. My Grandmother didn't even get up. I checked her room; she was asleep. She went to the dentist's, and I guess she was so wiped out she didn't even wake up. I find it annoying whenever I come home and I hear her steps as she slowly checks what's going on in the foyer. Yet if I make such a commotion and she still doesn't get up, I'm kind of concerned. But I wasn't then. I wanted coffee.
I enjoyed my joe for an hour. When I rushed back home, I didn't see my parents' minivan. They're not home? But as I drove up the driveway, opened up the garage door and got out to scrape the snow underneath my car, I see Father bolt out the driveway. He wanted me to pick up his meds now, and he came out to give me his health insurance card. He was going to close the garage door for me, by the way. So I go back in my car and drive down ... but not before I see him look at my headlights. Oh, snap! I never told him about the headlights because I didn't want him to see. But shit, too fucking late. Winter, your early darkness screwed me as much as your snow has. And crap, he saw me with my U. sweater on. Not another talk over going back to school again. ...
---
I finally got the meds from Walgreen's (well, two of the three; for some fuckin' reason his doctor hadn't OK'd the third one, even though it's been, like, three days). Turns out they punched his number in wrong. Seriously, these guys are a fucking joke.
---
No talk over school, so I'm glad I won't have to hear that shit until my birthday next month when I turn 35. But the headlight ... I felt like I needed to head Father off at the pass about the burnt-out light. So when I came back and saw Father slouching on a chair watching the national news while waiting for Mother to finish working out, I told him about the light. He wasn't angry.
Now, fast forward to last night. I leave my car outside because I planned to go to the Community Activity Center. After dinner, he told me to use the minivan. He didn't want me to get stopped and ticketed by police. Father didn't know I was stopped, on Saturday. (The police officer let me go with a warning.) So I guess he believes that it burned out recently, like Tuesday night.
I thought, and I still think, it wasn't necessary. I've seen cars without working headlights on the street, so I think I'm going to be fine. But naturally I looked at what from this I could benefit from. And, it's the gas. At $3.50 a gallon he already barked at me last night about wasting gasoline by going everywhere. Using their van is spending nothing of my money going to exercise. The bad news is, I had to bring all my shit, my gym bag and my satellite radio, from my car to theirs. And, I wanted to take out the trash bag My Father put in the minivan. I didn't want to drive to the community center smelling trash.
Now I think I don't think Father noticed that my left headlight doesn't work anymore. It's possible that if I didn't confess after going to Walgreen's, he wouldn't be the wiser, and he would've let me use my car to work out last night. This is a problem because there will be a lot of tension if I go out in my car at night if I don't fix my headlight. Which means I need to replace it ASAP, a lot sooner than I wanted to.
But I'm going to punt today; we have pork roasting in the oven and I need to write this. I'm gunning for tomorrow, just in case I need to drive to the auto parts store and pick up a tool or something. I've already replaced my right headlight, but I'm scared I'll screw this up. Wish me luck!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I Forgot I Forgot About Something Tuesday Night
In my dark night of the soul after I learned that I was about to lose a lot of my income, I went to Walgreen's to pick some medication for My Father, who forgot to pick them up on his way home. I was going to work out, so it was on the way to the gym.
Earlier that evening, I had finally opened up the American Express letter that I had left unopened for so long. Ever since I got it, the part of the brain I devoted to thinking about it concluded that it was probably nothing. But, knowing that my luck probably changed as a result of my bad news, I had to finally open it. It was, in fact, a bill. I had completely forgotten that I designated my AmEx card as the one to automatically charge my annual renewal to ESPN The Magazine. And the bill was due on Valentine's Day. And the hits just keep on coming.
I wanted to call them before dinner, but I didn't have the time. Since I was at Walgreen's, and there was a possibility I would have to wait, I decided to bring the bill with me. When I parked at the drug store, I took it with me. No use bringing it if I didn't have it with me while I waited inside.
Well, I didn't have to wait. I just walked up to the counter and within a minute somebody ended her phone call and tended to me. Unfortunately, there were problems picking up Father's medication. There has always been problems picking up Father's meds at Walgreen's; usually, I'm told insurance won't pay for them. I have to tell Father to do something about it, which he does, and then everything's alright ... only for the same shit to happen again the next time I need to pick them up. It doesn't help that customer service here is surly and uncooperative. My Father made this my pharmacy when I got pain medication after I got my wisdom teeth removed. Bad idea, and I should change them one day. At least I didn't get anybody surly this time around; the woman who helped me was nice.
There was no way to fix this now, so I just bolted. I did achieve my goal of getting to the community center before 8; just after dinner Father was in this bad mood and strangely demanded I work out only for an hour. Yeah, fuck that shit.
Anyway, when I turned off my car I gathered the things I left on the passenger seat. But something was missing. Where did I leave my AmEx statement? I thought it may have slipped to the side of the seat while I was turning, but it wasn't there. A couple minutes later, I realized that I left it on the counter at Walgreen's while taking off.
I thought about going back there immediately ... but no, I don't want to. I didn't think there was any information, besides my credit card number of course, that somebody could use against me. I mean, they would need the expiration date and the security code, neither of which is on the bill. Fuck it, I said to myself, I'll get it tomorrow, when I run errands.
I did get it yesterday, but there is another story in that.
The only thing that bothers me is that I didn't have to leave my bill at Walgreen's. In fact, I didn't have to be there at all because I wasn't able to get the medicine for My Father. And now I had to go back to retrieve something at a place I didn't need to go to in the first place.
My mind on my loss of money, and my loss of money on my mind. ...
Earlier that evening, I had finally opened up the American Express letter that I had left unopened for so long. Ever since I got it, the part of the brain I devoted to thinking about it concluded that it was probably nothing. But, knowing that my luck probably changed as a result of my bad news, I had to finally open it. It was, in fact, a bill. I had completely forgotten that I designated my AmEx card as the one to automatically charge my annual renewal to ESPN The Magazine. And the bill was due on Valentine's Day. And the hits just keep on coming.
I wanted to call them before dinner, but I didn't have the time. Since I was at Walgreen's, and there was a possibility I would have to wait, I decided to bring the bill with me. When I parked at the drug store, I took it with me. No use bringing it if I didn't have it with me while I waited inside.
Well, I didn't have to wait. I just walked up to the counter and within a minute somebody ended her phone call and tended to me. Unfortunately, there were problems picking up Father's medication. There has always been problems picking up Father's meds at Walgreen's; usually, I'm told insurance won't pay for them. I have to tell Father to do something about it, which he does, and then everything's alright ... only for the same shit to happen again the next time I need to pick them up. It doesn't help that customer service here is surly and uncooperative. My Father made this my pharmacy when I got pain medication after I got my wisdom teeth removed. Bad idea, and I should change them one day. At least I didn't get anybody surly this time around; the woman who helped me was nice.
There was no way to fix this now, so I just bolted. I did achieve my goal of getting to the community center before 8; just after dinner Father was in this bad mood and strangely demanded I work out only for an hour. Yeah, fuck that shit.
Anyway, when I turned off my car I gathered the things I left on the passenger seat. But something was missing. Where did I leave my AmEx statement? I thought it may have slipped to the side of the seat while I was turning, but it wasn't there. A couple minutes later, I realized that I left it on the counter at Walgreen's while taking off.
I thought about going back there immediately ... but no, I don't want to. I didn't think there was any information, besides my credit card number of course, that somebody could use against me. I mean, they would need the expiration date and the security code, neither of which is on the bill. Fuck it, I said to myself, I'll get it tomorrow, when I run errands.
I did get it yesterday, but there is another story in that.
The only thing that bothers me is that I didn't have to leave my bill at Walgreen's. In fact, I didn't have to be there at all because I wasn't able to get the medicine for My Father. And now I had to go back to retrieve something at a place I didn't need to go to in the first place.
My mind on my loss of money, and my loss of money on my mind. ...
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
No, Seriously, This Is The End. Sad But True, But Really, This Is It
So the nurse came. The verdict is in, and it's as bad as I thought it was. The nurse told me I now have 4 hours of PCA work a day. Well, actually my Grandmother told me. Apparently the nurse told her, and as the nurse went back to her car to retrieve something, Grandmother told me, "So, we're getting four hours a day now, huh?"
So that initial number I saw in the letter sent to me was accurate. Fuck me. The increase in hours is just enough for me to lose my unemployment insurance, and yet the bump is nowhere near enough to make up for the loss of income from being on the dole. I get the worst of both worlds.
And now I mean it. I have pissed and moaned about how am I going to find the money I need to fill up my gas tank, and how am I going to get the money I want to go to the stripclub? But those times previous I've been able to manage. Now? Now I'm certain that my most dire fears will come true. There really is no way out. I mean, the lab is supposed to wind down this week, and even if it didn't, $60/week won't keep me afloat. Fucking A, man, I really have to go back to work.
But first, I was giving myself time to feel sorry for myself. It's a bad habit of mine, but the best way for me to deal with awful situations is to run away. This time, I went to the movies. I wanted to see The King's Speech so I could decide for myself whether it deserves the Best Picture Oscar it's about to get. (Verdict: It's a film made for Academy Awards. It's alright, a bit talky. I just didn't feel too emotionally connected to it. I've had problems with most of the ten nominees for Best Picture: The Social Network was also too talky; The Fighter made too many excuses for its white trash family; I could predict the ending to Black Swan about 20 minutes before the end; Toy Story 3 wasn't as emotionally heart-tugging as others said it would be, and the first one was better; and I don't think the logic of Inception holds. They're all great films, but is it possible that best movie I saw last year was ... True Grit?)
Anyway, on my way to the theater I saw that one gas station had a price of $3.30 for gas. $3.30?!?!?! I went by another station on my way to the bank in the morning that was still at $3.16. I'm glad I was able to get to a gas station that had the old price; it was across the street from the theater and from another station posting the new price. As soon as I saw this I hauled ass up to the pump and ran out of my car to lock the pump in at the old price. While rushing to fill up my tank, I saw an Arab who looked to be the manager of the station come outside, walk a few steps down the walk, and look across the street.
I did lock in the $3.16. After putting back the pump, I saw that the price for unleaded was changed to $3.30. I don't think I've ever cut it so close in filling up my gas tank.
Also, I'm happy that I left early enough to do all this and get to the movie well before it began.
---
I really debated whether I should go to the gym. I really felt like I should stay home and conserve gas. However, I did the right thing and went because, honestly, working out makes me feel good. I don't want to get into a position where I just stop doing everything because I can't afford it.
But I have to wonder: What the fuck do I do now?
So that initial number I saw in the letter sent to me was accurate. Fuck me. The increase in hours is just enough for me to lose my unemployment insurance, and yet the bump is nowhere near enough to make up for the loss of income from being on the dole. I get the worst of both worlds.
And now I mean it. I have pissed and moaned about how am I going to find the money I need to fill up my gas tank, and how am I going to get the money I want to go to the stripclub? But those times previous I've been able to manage. Now? Now I'm certain that my most dire fears will come true. There really is no way out. I mean, the lab is supposed to wind down this week, and even if it didn't, $60/week won't keep me afloat. Fucking A, man, I really have to go back to work.
But first, I was giving myself time to feel sorry for myself. It's a bad habit of mine, but the best way for me to deal with awful situations is to run away. This time, I went to the movies. I wanted to see The King's Speech so I could decide for myself whether it deserves the Best Picture Oscar it's about to get. (Verdict: It's a film made for Academy Awards. It's alright, a bit talky. I just didn't feel too emotionally connected to it. I've had problems with most of the ten nominees for Best Picture: The Social Network was also too talky; The Fighter made too many excuses for its white trash family; I could predict the ending to Black Swan about 20 minutes before the end; Toy Story 3 wasn't as emotionally heart-tugging as others said it would be, and the first one was better; and I don't think the logic of Inception holds. They're all great films, but is it possible that best movie I saw last year was ... True Grit?)
Anyway, on my way to the theater I saw that one gas station had a price of $3.30 for gas. $3.30?!?!?! I went by another station on my way to the bank in the morning that was still at $3.16. I'm glad I was able to get to a gas station that had the old price; it was across the street from the theater and from another station posting the new price. As soon as I saw this I hauled ass up to the pump and ran out of my car to lock the pump in at the old price. While rushing to fill up my tank, I saw an Arab who looked to be the manager of the station come outside, walk a few steps down the walk, and look across the street.
I did lock in the $3.16. After putting back the pump, I saw that the price for unleaded was changed to $3.30. I don't think I've ever cut it so close in filling up my gas tank.
Also, I'm happy that I left early enough to do all this and get to the movie well before it began.
---
I really debated whether I should go to the gym. I really felt like I should stay home and conserve gas. However, I did the right thing and went because, honestly, working out makes me feel good. I don't want to get into a position where I just stop doing everything because I can't afford it.
But I have to wonder: What the fuck do I do now?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
And Now, My Saturday Night Misadventure, Influenced By My Forgetfulness
Might as well tell you what I did Saturday night. It's marked by what I did not do Saturday night.
I told my parents that I was going to "work" at the U. because I thought it'd be better than telling them I'm going to roller derby. So once I told Mother I had to leave by 6 or 6:30 (the bout started at 7), I was done eating at around 5 or 5:30. Perfect!
So after I gas up (only three-fourths of the way because I thought gas was going down, but apparently the price for a barrel of oil shot up 6% today -- whoops!) I go downtown. After a couple of circuits around the area where I think I could find a spot at a meter, I find one as close as possible to the Convention Center, home of the North Star Roller Girls, as I could. And I even saw it and had to turn around because I was on the other side of the street. I thought things were going my way. I was wrong.
I go into the Convention Center, which is across the street. I saw a lot of Somalis milling about, the distinctive smell of jasmine, I believe, wafting in the air. The Convention Center's so huge that several events happen at the same time. There was a golf show happening, too. When I went to the main ballroom, however, the doors were closed. Oh-oh.
So when I was certain that this was the area of the Center where the bout was to take place, I pulled out my ticket. The realization that creeped up my back was realized, though not completely. The ticket said February 26. I'm not proud to admit it, but my first thought was, Oh, shit, I'm here a week early ... wait a second, today isn't the 19th, is it? I then thought I had written it down on my calendar wrong, so I pulled out my Franklin Quest, where I wrote down "NSRG, 7" on the 26th. A part of me still thought it was the 26th, however. Guess I was so embarrassed I ran out of the house for nothing to admit I fucked up. Damn, I hate my scatterbrained-ness.
So, what to do now? I thought about going down to the Megamall -- nah; no reason, and I'd just be wasting gasoline. I didn't want to go to My Favorite Stripclub so early in the evening, though I thought about going after the bout. My big regret is leaving all my stuff behind under the assumption that I wouldn't use it. I then kicked myself because I had some stuff I wanted to write; now I have the time to do it, but I don't have my laptop with me. Well, I thought to myself, there are some huge basketball games going on now, maybe I'll just go to My Favorite Coffeeshop and watch it online -- wait, I don't have my laptop. Didn't I already say that to myself? Man, I hate myself when I'm so goddamn forgetful.
Then I thought that I could at least balance my checkbook ... except that "leaving all my stuff behind" also included my bookbag, which was at home. And so there I was, in the middle of all these Somalis and golf enthusiasts, inside this cavernous edifice, with absolutely nothing to do on a Saturday night. It was the most pathetic I felt in a long time. It sucks being me.
What I did have was my day planner because I felt I could remember my roller derby ticket if I kept it in there. The only productive thing I could do at that point, then, was look through the sheaf of receipts I had put into chronological order and write down the expenses for the past week-and-a-half. It was something I really needed to do; even though I felt like I douche, I pulled up a lounge table and started accounting. I felt good I did it, and yet it still felt like I was punishing myself.
I did drown my sorrows at the titty bar after I left downtown. Then, even though I didn't really feel like it, I worked out at the gym. I had nothing else to do; even though I would be there only an hour, at the very least I could get some good out of the evening by burning off some calories and steam.
Trouble was, there was a family and an older woman in the exercise room already. I could work out, but not by myself, which is my preference. And these guys bogarted all the TV's. I had to wait about 20 minutes before the older woman left so I could change the TV on my side.
There was one sporting event that I would not have been able to see on my laptop, if I remembered to bring it: The NBA Slam Dunk Contest. At least I saw that; in particular, I thought that DeMar DeRozan's down-and-over one-hander was an underrated gem, and that Serge Ibaka's grabbing the toy from the rim with his mouth slam and Blake Griffin's jump over the hood of the car -- replete with a choir singing R. Kelly?? -- were overrated. When did the Slam Dunk Contest turn into performance art? I really was thinking that The Blake Show would jump over the body of the car instead of just the hood. That would've been the tits.
Anyway, one of the kids asked which channel the SDC was on (TNT, Channel 63 in this part of town), so these guys weren't as bad as I initially thought. And I did burn 325+ calories on the treadmill, the only machine I worked out on that night. Dinner at My Favorite Late-Night Spot, and I went home at around 1.
But damn, I wish I would've brought my bookbag and/or laptop. Would've made the night a whole lot better.
I told my parents that I was going to "work" at the U. because I thought it'd be better than telling them I'm going to roller derby. So once I told Mother I had to leave by 6 or 6:30 (the bout started at 7), I was done eating at around 5 or 5:30. Perfect!
So after I gas up (only three-fourths of the way because I thought gas was going down, but apparently the price for a barrel of oil shot up 6% today -- whoops!) I go downtown. After a couple of circuits around the area where I think I could find a spot at a meter, I find one as close as possible to the Convention Center, home of the North Star Roller Girls, as I could. And I even saw it and had to turn around because I was on the other side of the street. I thought things were going my way. I was wrong.
I go into the Convention Center, which is across the street. I saw a lot of Somalis milling about, the distinctive smell of jasmine, I believe, wafting in the air. The Convention Center's so huge that several events happen at the same time. There was a golf show happening, too. When I went to the main ballroom, however, the doors were closed. Oh-oh.
So when I was certain that this was the area of the Center where the bout was to take place, I pulled out my ticket. The realization that creeped up my back was realized, though not completely. The ticket said February 26. I'm not proud to admit it, but my first thought was, Oh, shit, I'm here a week early ... wait a second, today isn't the 19th, is it? I then thought I had written it down on my calendar wrong, so I pulled out my Franklin Quest, where I wrote down "NSRG, 7" on the 26th. A part of me still thought it was the 26th, however. Guess I was so embarrassed I ran out of the house for nothing to admit I fucked up. Damn, I hate my scatterbrained-ness.
So, what to do now? I thought about going down to the Megamall -- nah; no reason, and I'd just be wasting gasoline. I didn't want to go to My Favorite Stripclub so early in the evening, though I thought about going after the bout. My big regret is leaving all my stuff behind under the assumption that I wouldn't use it. I then kicked myself because I had some stuff I wanted to write; now I have the time to do it, but I don't have my laptop with me. Well, I thought to myself, there are some huge basketball games going on now, maybe I'll just go to My Favorite Coffeeshop and watch it online -- wait, I don't have my laptop. Didn't I already say that to myself? Man, I hate myself when I'm so goddamn forgetful.
Then I thought that I could at least balance my checkbook ... except that "leaving all my stuff behind" also included my bookbag, which was at home. And so there I was, in the middle of all these Somalis and golf enthusiasts, inside this cavernous edifice, with absolutely nothing to do on a Saturday night. It was the most pathetic I felt in a long time. It sucks being me.
What I did have was my day planner because I felt I could remember my roller derby ticket if I kept it in there. The only productive thing I could do at that point, then, was look through the sheaf of receipts I had put into chronological order and write down the expenses for the past week-and-a-half. It was something I really needed to do; even though I felt like I douche, I pulled up a lounge table and started accounting. I felt good I did it, and yet it still felt like I was punishing myself.
I did drown my sorrows at the titty bar after I left downtown. Then, even though I didn't really feel like it, I worked out at the gym. I had nothing else to do; even though I would be there only an hour, at the very least I could get some good out of the evening by burning off some calories and steam.
Trouble was, there was a family and an older woman in the exercise room already. I could work out, but not by myself, which is my preference. And these guys bogarted all the TV's. I had to wait about 20 minutes before the older woman left so I could change the TV on my side.
There was one sporting event that I would not have been able to see on my laptop, if I remembered to bring it: The NBA Slam Dunk Contest. At least I saw that; in particular, I thought that DeMar DeRozan's down-and-over one-hander was an underrated gem, and that Serge Ibaka's grabbing the toy from the rim with his mouth slam and Blake Griffin's jump over the hood of the car -- replete with a choir singing R. Kelly?? -- were overrated. When did the Slam Dunk Contest turn into performance art? I really was thinking that The Blake Show would jump over the body of the car instead of just the hood. That would've been the tits.
Anyway, one of the kids asked which channel the SDC was on (TNT, Channel 63 in this part of town), so these guys weren't as bad as I initially thought. And I did burn 325+ calories on the treadmill, the only machine I worked out on that night. Dinner at My Favorite Late-Night Spot, and I went home at around 1.
But damn, I wish I would've brought my bookbag and/or laptop. Would've made the night a whole lot better.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Update to what I planned to do this morning: Well, I failed.
I was woken up this morning by my Grandmother. I think it was until I actually got up off my bed that I remembered that I wanted to wake up at 6:30, about 3 1/2 hours earlier, to help out my parents shovel out the driveway.
After administering Grandmother's insulin shots, I wondered what happened to the alarm I set on my cellphone. I thought I put it on my tissue cozy, but after opening and closing my blanket, I saw my phone, opened, on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. I've become increasingly resistant to the alarm; I figure that my body hated hearing the alarm 105 minutes after going to bed at a quarter to 5, and I was able to not snooze it but actually turn it off without becoming fully awake.
I thought Father was going to yell at me. Just to get it over with, and because I really wanted to know if he needed help at the store or warehouse or one of his properties, I called him in the afternoon after I was able, miraculously, to use the snowblower on the driveway. (That it worked proves there is a deity.) He didn't need help, and he didn't give me any tone while saying so. In fact, he really wanted to ask me if I had any days off this week so we can roast pork in the oven.
I was clearing off the driveway again (it was supposed to stop snowing in the afternoon, but I think it kept flurrying through 10 o'clock or so) when they came home. No anger from him, or from Mother. Phew!
Still, I feel guilty. Clearing the driveway and the patio -- as well as doing it again tomorrow -- is the least I could do to make up for it. They don't know what I planned on doing, but I still feel bad I failed to follow through on my intentions.
I was woken up this morning by my Grandmother. I think it was until I actually got up off my bed that I remembered that I wanted to wake up at 6:30, about 3 1/2 hours earlier, to help out my parents shovel out the driveway.
After administering Grandmother's insulin shots, I wondered what happened to the alarm I set on my cellphone. I thought I put it on my tissue cozy, but after opening and closing my blanket, I saw my phone, opened, on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. I've become increasingly resistant to the alarm; I figure that my body hated hearing the alarm 105 minutes after going to bed at a quarter to 5, and I was able to not snooze it but actually turn it off without becoming fully awake.
I thought Father was going to yell at me. Just to get it over with, and because I really wanted to know if he needed help at the store or warehouse or one of his properties, I called him in the afternoon after I was able, miraculously, to use the snowblower on the driveway. (That it worked proves there is a deity.) He didn't need help, and he didn't give me any tone while saying so. In fact, he really wanted to ask me if I had any days off this week so we can roast pork in the oven.
I was clearing off the driveway again (it was supposed to stop snowing in the afternoon, but I think it kept flurrying through 10 o'clock or so) when they came home. No anger from him, or from Mother. Phew!
Still, I feel guilty. Clearing the driveway and the patio -- as well as doing it again tomorrow -- is the least I could do to make up for it. They don't know what I planned on doing, but I still feel bad I failed to follow through on my intentions.
Another Goddamn Motherfucking Snowstorm, Bringing Forth Another Obligation
We just got hit with another foot of snow today. I had to cancel "work" so I can shovel tomorrow.
I always thought that living in Minnesota in wintertime is saintly because, as my high school counselor always liked to say, "it builds character." I think the state is great to live in -- a political swerve to the right aside -- because it keeps the cowardly out. But after this record-setting winter, even I feel like a pussy who pines for the days he lived in Los Angeles. Seriously, fuck this winter.
Plus, I now have a dilemma, sort of. I plan on getting up real early in the morning -- like, in a few hours -- to help shovel out my parents' minivan. I really do want to help, and yet I question my motives. Does this have anything to do with the lecture My Father gave me last (Saturday) night? Am I doing this only because I think that if I don't wake up tomorrow morning and help, he'll be mad at me?
Complicating all of this is my enmity towards our snowblower. I can't get the goddamn thing to work, and I would rather just shovel. And yet it is times like a blizzard dropping a foot of snow that is geared towards using a snowblower. But I hate relying on that goddamn infernal contraption. If I try it and it doesn't work, I'll be frustrated that I would just go back inside. I mean it.
I always thought that living in Minnesota in wintertime is saintly because, as my high school counselor always liked to say, "it builds character." I think the state is great to live in -- a political swerve to the right aside -- because it keeps the cowardly out. But after this record-setting winter, even I feel like a pussy who pines for the days he lived in Los Angeles. Seriously, fuck this winter.
Plus, I now have a dilemma, sort of. I plan on getting up real early in the morning -- like, in a few hours -- to help shovel out my parents' minivan. I really do want to help, and yet I question my motives. Does this have anything to do with the lecture My Father gave me last (Saturday) night? Am I doing this only because I think that if I don't wake up tomorrow morning and help, he'll be mad at me?
Complicating all of this is my enmity towards our snowblower. I can't get the goddamn thing to work, and I would rather just shovel. And yet it is times like a blizzard dropping a foot of snow that is geared towards using a snowblower. But I hate relying on that goddamn infernal contraption. If I try it and it doesn't work, I'll be frustrated that I would just go back inside. I mean it.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
I Should Have Known I Walked Into That One
So I told my parents I was going to "work" when I actually planned on going to roller derby. Except that I didn't. It's a long story, and I was going to tell it here, but I'll talk about that some other time because I need to vent my feelings over My Fucking Father.
I get home around 1:30 and I'm lolling around in my bed reading the latest Onion. I hear a commotion coming from outside. It's not Grandmother because when I came home I went to check to see if her light was on so I could test her, and I didn't see any emanating from underneath her door. But it was Father when I heard him sneeze in the way he does.
Shoot, so do I go out and talk to him or not? Part of me knew that he up stewing about because he secretly wanted to nag at me to go back to school or some shit. That would be the only reason he'd be so long upstairs at 1:30 in the morning. But then the optimist in me thought, Nah, he's only up because it's the weekend and he's worried about the snowstorm. Besides, things are going relatively well between us right now, so why not just check out the commotion and say hi?
And I did, and god fucking damn, that was a big mistake.
I saw him pacing in the dining room. He said, "What?" and I said, "Nothing, just ... checking out what's going on." And as I was going back into my room to avoid any potential lecture, My Fucking Father calls me back.
I don't go back, but I just stay at the front of my door. At the other end of the hallway, he leans against the wall and starts his condescending screed with, "What was your job tonight?" And after I told him my lie -- light electrical work for the Gopher wrestling dual tomorrow -- he asks me when am I going to find a stable job. I didn't know he knew the word "stable."
And then My Fucking Father told me I need to go back to school, set up a schedule where I'm up in the morning (that's the point in this one-sided conversation where I internally got really pissed off -- don't fucking tell me when to get up, asshole!!!), then something that blows my fucking mind: I need to exercise less. "An hour's fine," My Fucking Father said.
My Fucking Father's the one that said I was fat and I should start working out. He's right -- I was getting fat! And now he's telling me I'm working out too much?!?!?! Fuck You, Father, you're not making any goddamn sense anymore.
So I do what I usually do when My Fucking Father corners me with his orders for my future: Stare blankly at him, be curt and sarcastic, and use a barking tone at him. When he asked me, "What do you want to learn?" I said, "I want to learn everything!" And when he told me to go back to school or find a job, I said, "Sure." I don't know how many people believe that when you say "Sure" you don't really mean you are saying "Yes." All I know is My Fucking Father doesn't know it.
I'm pissed off. I really am. But ... well, maybe it's because I need to shovel tomorrow, or the weak body language My Fucking Father was giving off while he was yelling at me, or that he didn't so much ask, "You think I can take care of you all my life?" so much as he pleaded, or that I've been through this goddamn song-and-dance before, but I know where this is going to go. He yells at me, I nod, I cram my anger towards him inside me, then I go about my business not changing a fucking thing because he can't do anything to me. And he can't. So why worry? Well, there's always a possibility that he will kick me out of the house. At the very least he can start pestering me in the morning again. But I doubt he can keep that up. Because I am relentless with my inertia. We'll see, but I think I'll win. Well, at least I hope.
One wrinkle, however. I was unable to cram all my feelings toward My Fucking Father down inside me. Once he was done waiting for whatever he was nuking in the microwave, he was done with me. I was finally able to go into my room, but in response to his belittling me, I slammed my door. It was what I was feeling. But maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do in case My Fucking Father thought what he was giving me was "a little pep talk."
He stuck around upstairs, so even though I had no intention of doing what he said when he told me to go to sleep, I didn't want to invite any knock on my door, so I just got into my bed and turned all the lights off. If I drifted off to sleep (I am tired, and a part of me now regrets just conking off for the night instead of venturing outside to say hi to My Fucking Father), fine. But the rebel in me wants to spite his edict that I should wake up mornings. What the fuck ever.
Anyway, he finally got done eating or whatever in the kitchen and he went downstairs. When the cat's away. ... So I break out my laptop and start to write this. But then I hear him come back upstairs. Why??? It's 2 in the morning at this point? I go back to turning everything off and pretending I'm asleep. But then it occurs to me: Like I did before, he's just passive-aggressively waiting for me to come out so he can come at me with more "words of advice" -- or just flat-out yell at me, thinking he now has the green light after I let him know how I felt about his bullying.
Stay tuned.
Goddamn, I just wanted to go out and see what the noise was all about. ...
I get home around 1:30 and I'm lolling around in my bed reading the latest Onion. I hear a commotion coming from outside. It's not Grandmother because when I came home I went to check to see if her light was on so I could test her, and I didn't see any emanating from underneath her door. But it was Father when I heard him sneeze in the way he does.
Shoot, so do I go out and talk to him or not? Part of me knew that he up stewing about because he secretly wanted to nag at me to go back to school or some shit. That would be the only reason he'd be so long upstairs at 1:30 in the morning. But then the optimist in me thought, Nah, he's only up because it's the weekend and he's worried about the snowstorm. Besides, things are going relatively well between us right now, so why not just check out the commotion and say hi?
And I did, and god fucking damn, that was a big mistake.
I saw him pacing in the dining room. He said, "What?" and I said, "Nothing, just ... checking out what's going on." And as I was going back into my room to avoid any potential lecture, My Fucking Father calls me back.
I don't go back, but I just stay at the front of my door. At the other end of the hallway, he leans against the wall and starts his condescending screed with, "What was your job tonight?" And after I told him my lie -- light electrical work for the Gopher wrestling dual tomorrow -- he asks me when am I going to find a stable job. I didn't know he knew the word "stable."
And then My Fucking Father told me I need to go back to school, set up a schedule where I'm up in the morning (that's the point in this one-sided conversation where I internally got really pissed off -- don't fucking tell me when to get up, asshole!!!), then something that blows my fucking mind: I need to exercise less. "An hour's fine," My Fucking Father said.
My Fucking Father's the one that said I was fat and I should start working out. He's right -- I was getting fat! And now he's telling me I'm working out too much?!?!?! Fuck You, Father, you're not making any goddamn sense anymore.
So I do what I usually do when My Fucking Father corners me with his orders for my future: Stare blankly at him, be curt and sarcastic, and use a barking tone at him. When he asked me, "What do you want to learn?" I said, "I want to learn everything!" And when he told me to go back to school or find a job, I said, "Sure." I don't know how many people believe that when you say "Sure" you don't really mean you are saying "Yes." All I know is My Fucking Father doesn't know it.
I'm pissed off. I really am. But ... well, maybe it's because I need to shovel tomorrow, or the weak body language My Fucking Father was giving off while he was yelling at me, or that he didn't so much ask, "You think I can take care of you all my life?" so much as he pleaded, or that I've been through this goddamn song-and-dance before, but I know where this is going to go. He yells at me, I nod, I cram my anger towards him inside me, then I go about my business not changing a fucking thing because he can't do anything to me. And he can't. So why worry? Well, there's always a possibility that he will kick me out of the house. At the very least he can start pestering me in the morning again. But I doubt he can keep that up. Because I am relentless with my inertia. We'll see, but I think I'll win. Well, at least I hope.
One wrinkle, however. I was unable to cram all my feelings toward My Fucking Father down inside me. Once he was done waiting for whatever he was nuking in the microwave, he was done with me. I was finally able to go into my room, but in response to his belittling me, I slammed my door. It was what I was feeling. But maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do in case My Fucking Father thought what he was giving me was "a little pep talk."
He stuck around upstairs, so even though I had no intention of doing what he said when he told me to go to sleep, I didn't want to invite any knock on my door, so I just got into my bed and turned all the lights off. If I drifted off to sleep (I am tired, and a part of me now regrets just conking off for the night instead of venturing outside to say hi to My Fucking Father), fine. But the rebel in me wants to spite his edict that I should wake up mornings. What the fuck ever.
Anyway, he finally got done eating or whatever in the kitchen and he went downstairs. When the cat's away. ... So I break out my laptop and start to write this. But then I hear him come back upstairs. Why??? It's 2 in the morning at this point? I go back to turning everything off and pretending I'm asleep. But then it occurs to me: Like I did before, he's just passive-aggressively waiting for me to come out so he can come at me with more "words of advice" -- or just flat-out yell at me, thinking he now has the green light after I let him know how I felt about his bullying.
Stay tuned.
Goddamn, I just wanted to go out and see what the noise was all about. ...
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -6). Well, I think it's too late for a turnaround of their season, and unless they run the table in the WCHA playoffs, they're not going to make this year's NCAA tournament. But I don't know if the program has had a better week of games in the past, oh, three years than they did this screening week -- routs of fourth-ranked Denver at home Saturday and at 12th-ranked Wisconsin Friday. The Gophs put both games away by scoring three goals in three periods. And Minnesota broke the Badgers' nine-game home winning streak.
They are currently tied with Colorado College for sixth place in the conference, one point behind Wisconsin, which, according to USCHO.com, would be the last team in the tourney if the season were to end today. Fifth place would give the Gophers home-ice advantage for the first-round series of the conference tournament, but would finishing fifth, and even winning that series, be enough for them to get in? I don't think losing in the conference final would be enough for them to get a bid. Kind of a bummer for the team that finished in first place for this WMNSS.
They finish up their series in Madison (I wonder how they're getting around seeing as there are tens of thousands of people crowding the state capitol to protest a bill that would bust the state's public unions -- man, I'd love to be there just to see what a mass protest looks like!) today (Saturday), then host Michigan Tech -- perennial bottom-dwellers, yet they upset Denver last (Friday) night -- Friday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). Another clean week -- completed a Ridder sweep of Bemidji St. Saturday (3-0), then beat North Dakota in North Dakota last (Friday) night (5-3). It looks like that after they finish the regular season by finishing their two-game series against the Fighting Sioux, these Gophs will finish the regular season in second place in the WCHA. That means that Friday, they will host MSU-Mankato in their first-round series. Like I say, when are they going to win the NCAA championship?
#-3: Wild (Last Week: -4). The three main hockey programs in the Twin Cities finish 1-2-3 in the WMNSS? Has this ever happened before? It looks like the state of hockey in The State Of Hockey is well, very well, thank you.
But this has to be tempered with the truth: They went 2-2 for the week. That's not great, and the two losses still indicate a young, offensively-challenged team (the loss to Vancouver was a complete non-starter and even more head-scratching 'cause it happened at home; the defeat to Chicago was one where they had chances but couldn't convert), but their two wins, over St. Louis and Anaheim, were ones where they were able to put the puck into the net and stop the opponent (one goal for both teams). I still think there is a lot of talent on the team, young talent that will grow into the majors, and grow together.
As it stands as I type this, the Wild have been shuffled back out of the playoff picture; they currently sit in tenth place, one point behind a four-way tie for sixth. So, is a trade in order? The consensus is that their priority is a scorer, but there are very few players that fulfill that role consistently. Plus, who would they give up? Mike Russo of the Star Tribune says that General Manager Chuck Fletcher would be willing to give up one of their young guns, Colton Gillies or, until he tore his ACL, Tyler Cuma.
(Aside: I saw Cuma when his Houston Aeros played at Xcel in the Wild's annual AAA-playing-at-its-big-league-affiliate game, a 3-1 loss to Peoria Sunday afternoon. He accidentally deflected a Rivermen shot past his Goalie, Anton Khudobin, and he reacted by slamming his stick against the goalpost, I think. I didn't completely see the play in which he tore his ACL, but reports say he slid into the boards feet-first. He already has an injury history, but from this one game, I did not come away impressed with Tyler Cuma so far. Oh, and by the way, being able to see the Houston Aeros in St. Paul is neat and a tradition that should continue.)
Oh, back to the trade winds. ... One other thing to consider -- well, actually two: Marek Zidlicky has come, and Guy Latendresse will soon be, back on the team after dealing with serious injuries. If they're able to perform, it would be like trading without actually trading. One more thing: This is hockey. A team that squeaked into the playoffs by winning a game on the last day of the regular season can make it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals. This isn't speculation; this was the Philadelphia Flyers just last year. So maybe there isn't a need for the Wild to trade anybody, especially if they're not able to ship an onerous, long-term contract that former GM Doug Risebrough mistakenly tied the franchise in financial chains for the next several years out of the state. I don't mind if Fletch sits tight. And you know what? I like Fletcher's plan.
(Aside: There was intense talk that Head Coach Todd Richards would be fired this year. How? He would have lasted less than two years at the helm. Things weren't so bad during the team's malaise at the beginning of the year to justify Richards's shit-canning. Yes, he was terrible last year. But he installed a new, up-tempo style, and there had to be a year of Jacques Lemaire's holdovers either adjusting to the new system or leaving the team. And besides, is less than two years enough to evaluate a coach? Unless Richards lost every single game this year, I think he deserved one more year. In fact, I think it should be a hard and fast rule: All coaches get to coach at least three years. At least give them enough time and space to show what they're made of ... or give them enough rope to hang themselves. Either way's good.)
One huge problem: Leader Mikko Koivu left the Ducks game in the first period. Michael Russo, Wild beat writer for the Star Tribune (of Minneapolis) and considered to be one of the best hockey writers in the universe (I believe it) says here that he's got a broken left finger. The prognosis is not good.
They have a second consecutive week of playing four games. It all starts out with a Very Special Edition Of The NHL, as Sunday's contest at home against Detroit was flexed up to an 11:30 start so that it can be a regional game in NBC's "Hockey Day In America" hegemony. About damn time they showed up on NBC. They then host Edmonton and visit Southern California (Los Angeles and Anaheim).
#-4: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -1). A tie. I don't think I've ever dealt with a team's result for the week being just a tie. Where should I put the grapplers for this week? In the end, the fact that the Gophers managed to tie Penn St., a team that's ranked third (Minnesota's fifth), and the team's potential for postseason success, puts them here. In other words, I feel better that the Wild could somehow win the Stanley Cup by the way they're playing now than I do about this team winning the NCAAs.
Sunday afternoon is their final dual of the regular season, and it's against hated archrival Iowa, which is ranked third in Intermat but second somewhere else. It'll be some fuckin' match; too bad I think I'll stay home instead of watch my first-ever wrestling match because there's going to be a huge goddamn blizzard coming through on Sunday.
#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -8). Postseason-wise, I think Gopher wrestling has brighter prospects than the Minnesota male ballers do, and it's not even close. They trounce Iowa in Iowa City Sunday evening, but everybody does. They then lose at Penn St. when they had the lead without about two minutes left but couldn't hit the dagger jumpshot or protect the ball. My God, do they miss Al Nolen.
And yet, according The Hoops Report's latest Bracketology, not only would the Gophers make it to the Big Dance, they're still relatively safely ensconsed in it: They would be a 9-seed and face Washington of the very, very down Pac-10. Why is there such a huge, lenient safety net for a team that has lost five out of their last six -- the fact that Minnesota's a BcS team or the addition of three new at-large teams to the Tournament? They don't deserve to be the NCAAs by the way they're playing.
One game this week: home to reeling Michigan St. They have to win this one.
#-6: Gopher baseball (Re-Entry!). There's good news, there's bad news, and then there's good news.
First, the good news: The college baseball season started! Yeah, it's kind of lame. But I'm never sure of when the season starts. It kind of lays hidden amidst the Super Bowl, the shifting focus of the sports landscape to college basketball, and Spring Training. But it began for the Gophers yesterday (Friday) afternoon.
The bad news: They won't go undefeated this season. Minnesota, picked by Baseball America to win the Big Ten, got the livin' shit kicked out of them by 23rd-ranked St. John's -- yes, a fellow cold-weather baseball program -- 14-1. Yes, the Red Storm are ranked, but if they lose by 13, how good can this team, and this program, really be? It's not going to get any easier. Their three games this week: 9th-ranked UConn, Louisville (both part of the Big Ten/Big East Challenge in Clearwater, Fla.), and at Wake Forest (hosting the titular tournament).
Now, the other good news: They will get to play all their home Big Ten series at Target Field! What a boost for the Gopher program, being able to use the Twins' brand-new ballpark for their most-important games of the season. (They'll play midweek games against local teams at Siebert Field, but who cares?) Shit, I can't imagine a better place for a college team to play than at a Major League Baseball park. And what a validation of the building of Target Field. It's proof that the Twins know that we taxpayers funded the stadium, and therefore it is a public asset that can and should be used by other public institutions like the University of Minnesota baseball squad when they need it. In fact, I wouldn't mind the Gophers making Target Field their homebase. I think both teams' schedules can be tweaked so that one team will be able to use it every weekend once the Twins begin play in April. Anyway, I look forward to driving out on a spring evening, park after hours for free at a meter, walk up to Target, show my student ID, and being able to enter a one-year-old MLB ballpark to watch a meaningful top-flight college baseball game for free.
#-7: Swarm (Re-Entry!). They once led the Western Conference. But the Swarm have slipped into second on the heels of a two-game road losing streak, the last being this week's result, a come-from-ahead, 12-10 loss to the Knighthawks in Rochester. This defeat despite four more goals from Forward Ryan Benesch.
Benesch now has 20 points, which is third-best in the NLL. He also has 18 assists, which puts him seventh in the league. (And he has no penalty minutes so far this season.) So being named a starter for the NLL All-Star Game coming up next week is absolutely deserved. Nick Patterson has also been named the starting Goalie for the NLL ASG. Patterson, along with Colorado's Chris Levis, could be considered the best backstoppers in the Western Conference, but Patterson gets the starting nod because Levis is 1-5. Congratulations also go to Forward Callum Crawford and Transition Andrew Watt, who were named as reserves about a week ago.
They play the first of their two back-to-backs, both of which consist of a home and a road game. They host Boston tonight (Saturday night), then travel to Colorado in a rare Sunday night game in the NLL.
#-8: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -7). Stick a fork in this group, they're done. Two home games, two losses, two efforts where they weren't really in it at all. One uninformed observation: In the defeat to Purdue, a junior named Brianna Mastey scored a career-high 17 points. I don't think (though I'm not sure) that she's a regular starter. I just looked at her previous game, the loss to Ohio St.; not only did she not start, she only played eight minutes off the bench. Does Pam Borton have a set rotation yet? Does she have a go-to guy? Does she have anybody that she feels she can rely on? Is there a player that is reliable? This season's over, but is this inconsistent disarray when it comes to personnel and knowing roles a matter of poor player performance or an scattershot gameplan -- or bad recruiting? More importantly, whose fault is this?
The Goofs, 3-10 in-conference and 11-15 overall, might be better off playing on the road; they're at Northwestern Sunday afternoon and at Michigan Thursday night.
#-9: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). Type timberwolves.com. Right now, they automatically lead you to 612 All-Star, a propaganda site touting the appearances of Kevin Love and Wesley Johnson at All-Star Weekend. That's nice and all (and I care about Love making the actual All-Star Game instead of Johnson's spot in the Rookie-Sophomore Game), but when I need to just look at the Timberwolves' schedule, man, I don't give a shit!
So I have to Google "timberwolves schedule," where I can see that, yes, they really did lose all three games this week, all at home. I went to the loss to Philadelphia Saturday, and this is what I learned:
After the All-Star Break, three games in four days: at Milwaukee and home to Memphis and New Orleans.
They are currently tied with Colorado College for sixth place in the conference, one point behind Wisconsin, which, according to USCHO.com, would be the last team in the tourney if the season were to end today. Fifth place would give the Gophers home-ice advantage for the first-round series of the conference tournament, but would finishing fifth, and even winning that series, be enough for them to get in? I don't think losing in the conference final would be enough for them to get a bid. Kind of a bummer for the team that finished in first place for this WMNSS.
They finish up their series in Madison (I wonder how they're getting around seeing as there are tens of thousands of people crowding the state capitol to protest a bill that would bust the state's public unions -- man, I'd love to be there just to see what a mass protest looks like!) today (Saturday), then host Michigan Tech -- perennial bottom-dwellers, yet they upset Denver last (Friday) night -- Friday.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). Another clean week -- completed a Ridder sweep of Bemidji St. Saturday (3-0), then beat North Dakota in North Dakota last (Friday) night (5-3). It looks like that after they finish the regular season by finishing their two-game series against the Fighting Sioux, these Gophs will finish the regular season in second place in the WCHA. That means that Friday, they will host MSU-Mankato in their first-round series. Like I say, when are they going to win the NCAA championship?
#-3: Wild (Last Week: -4). The three main hockey programs in the Twin Cities finish 1-2-3 in the WMNSS? Has this ever happened before? It looks like the state of hockey in The State Of Hockey is well, very well, thank you.
But this has to be tempered with the truth: They went 2-2 for the week. That's not great, and the two losses still indicate a young, offensively-challenged team (the loss to Vancouver was a complete non-starter and even more head-scratching 'cause it happened at home; the defeat to Chicago was one where they had chances but couldn't convert), but their two wins, over St. Louis and Anaheim, were ones where they were able to put the puck into the net and stop the opponent (one goal for both teams). I still think there is a lot of talent on the team, young talent that will grow into the majors, and grow together.
As it stands as I type this, the Wild have been shuffled back out of the playoff picture; they currently sit in tenth place, one point behind a four-way tie for sixth. So, is a trade in order? The consensus is that their priority is a scorer, but there are very few players that fulfill that role consistently. Plus, who would they give up? Mike Russo of the Star Tribune says that General Manager Chuck Fletcher would be willing to give up one of their young guns, Colton Gillies or, until he tore his ACL, Tyler Cuma.
(Aside: I saw Cuma when his Houston Aeros played at Xcel in the Wild's annual AAA-playing-at-its-big-league-affiliate game, a 3-1 loss to Peoria Sunday afternoon. He accidentally deflected a Rivermen shot past his Goalie, Anton Khudobin, and he reacted by slamming his stick against the goalpost, I think. I didn't completely see the play in which he tore his ACL, but reports say he slid into the boards feet-first. He already has an injury history, but from this one game, I did not come away impressed with Tyler Cuma so far. Oh, and by the way, being able to see the Houston Aeros in St. Paul is neat and a tradition that should continue.)
Oh, back to the trade winds. ... One other thing to consider -- well, actually two: Marek Zidlicky has come, and Guy Latendresse will soon be, back on the team after dealing with serious injuries. If they're able to perform, it would be like trading without actually trading. One more thing: This is hockey. A team that squeaked into the playoffs by winning a game on the last day of the regular season can make it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals. This isn't speculation; this was the Philadelphia Flyers just last year. So maybe there isn't a need for the Wild to trade anybody, especially if they're not able to ship an onerous, long-term contract that former GM Doug Risebrough mistakenly tied the franchise in financial chains for the next several years out of the state. I don't mind if Fletch sits tight. And you know what? I like Fletcher's plan.
(Aside: There was intense talk that Head Coach Todd Richards would be fired this year. How? He would have lasted less than two years at the helm. Things weren't so bad during the team's malaise at the beginning of the year to justify Richards's shit-canning. Yes, he was terrible last year. But he installed a new, up-tempo style, and there had to be a year of Jacques Lemaire's holdovers either adjusting to the new system or leaving the team. And besides, is less than two years enough to evaluate a coach? Unless Richards lost every single game this year, I think he deserved one more year. In fact, I think it should be a hard and fast rule: All coaches get to coach at least three years. At least give them enough time and space to show what they're made of ... or give them enough rope to hang themselves. Either way's good.)
One huge problem: Leader Mikko Koivu left the Ducks game in the first period. Michael Russo, Wild beat writer for the Star Tribune (of Minneapolis) and considered to be one of the best hockey writers in the universe (I believe it) says here that he's got a broken left finger. The prognosis is not good.
They have a second consecutive week of playing four games. It all starts out with a Very Special Edition Of The NHL, as Sunday's contest at home against Detroit was flexed up to an 11:30 start so that it can be a regional game in NBC's "Hockey Day In America" hegemony. About damn time they showed up on NBC. They then host Edmonton and visit Southern California (Los Angeles and Anaheim).
#-4: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -1). A tie. I don't think I've ever dealt with a team's result for the week being just a tie. Where should I put the grapplers for this week? In the end, the fact that the Gophers managed to tie Penn St., a team that's ranked third (Minnesota's fifth), and the team's potential for postseason success, puts them here. In other words, I feel better that the Wild could somehow win the Stanley Cup by the way they're playing now than I do about this team winning the NCAAs.
Sunday afternoon is their final dual of the regular season, and it's against hated archrival Iowa, which is ranked third in Intermat but second somewhere else. It'll be some fuckin' match; too bad I think I'll stay home instead of watch my first-ever wrestling match because there's going to be a huge goddamn blizzard coming through on Sunday.
#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -8). Postseason-wise, I think Gopher wrestling has brighter prospects than the Minnesota male ballers do, and it's not even close. They trounce Iowa in Iowa City Sunday evening, but everybody does. They then lose at Penn St. when they had the lead without about two minutes left but couldn't hit the dagger jumpshot or protect the ball. My God, do they miss Al Nolen.
And yet, according The Hoops Report's latest Bracketology, not only would the Gophers make it to the Big Dance, they're still relatively safely ensconsed in it: They would be a 9-seed and face Washington of the very, very down Pac-10. Why is there such a huge, lenient safety net for a team that has lost five out of their last six -- the fact that Minnesota's a BcS team or the addition of three new at-large teams to the Tournament? They don't deserve to be the NCAAs by the way they're playing.
One game this week: home to reeling Michigan St. They have to win this one.
#-6: Gopher baseball (Re-Entry!). There's good news, there's bad news, and then there's good news.
First, the good news: The college baseball season started! Yeah, it's kind of lame. But I'm never sure of when the season starts. It kind of lays hidden amidst the Super Bowl, the shifting focus of the sports landscape to college basketball, and Spring Training. But it began for the Gophers yesterday (Friday) afternoon.
The bad news: They won't go undefeated this season. Minnesota, picked by Baseball America to win the Big Ten, got the livin' shit kicked out of them by 23rd-ranked St. John's -- yes, a fellow cold-weather baseball program -- 14-1. Yes, the Red Storm are ranked, but if they lose by 13, how good can this team, and this program, really be? It's not going to get any easier. Their three games this week: 9th-ranked UConn, Louisville (both part of the Big Ten/Big East Challenge in Clearwater, Fla.), and at Wake Forest (hosting the titular tournament).
Now, the other good news: They will get to play all their home Big Ten series at Target Field! What a boost for the Gopher program, being able to use the Twins' brand-new ballpark for their most-important games of the season. (They'll play midweek games against local teams at Siebert Field, but who cares?) Shit, I can't imagine a better place for a college team to play than at a Major League Baseball park. And what a validation of the building of Target Field. It's proof that the Twins know that we taxpayers funded the stadium, and therefore it is a public asset that can and should be used by other public institutions like the University of Minnesota baseball squad when they need it. In fact, I wouldn't mind the Gophers making Target Field their homebase. I think both teams' schedules can be tweaked so that one team will be able to use it every weekend once the Twins begin play in April. Anyway, I look forward to driving out on a spring evening, park after hours for free at a meter, walk up to Target, show my student ID, and being able to enter a one-year-old MLB ballpark to watch a meaningful top-flight college baseball game for free.
#-7: Swarm (Re-Entry!). They once led the Western Conference. But the Swarm have slipped into second on the heels of a two-game road losing streak, the last being this week's result, a come-from-ahead, 12-10 loss to the Knighthawks in Rochester. This defeat despite four more goals from Forward Ryan Benesch.
Benesch now has 20 points, which is third-best in the NLL. He also has 18 assists, which puts him seventh in the league. (And he has no penalty minutes so far this season.) So being named a starter for the NLL All-Star Game coming up next week is absolutely deserved. Nick Patterson has also been named the starting Goalie for the NLL ASG. Patterson, along with Colorado's Chris Levis, could be considered the best backstoppers in the Western Conference, but Patterson gets the starting nod because Levis is 1-5. Congratulations also go to Forward Callum Crawford and Transition Andrew Watt, who were named as reserves about a week ago.
They play the first of their two back-to-backs, both of which consist of a home and a road game. They host Boston tonight (Saturday night), then travel to Colorado in a rare Sunday night game in the NLL.
#-8: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -7). Stick a fork in this group, they're done. Two home games, two losses, two efforts where they weren't really in it at all. One uninformed observation: In the defeat to Purdue, a junior named Brianna Mastey scored a career-high 17 points. I don't think (though I'm not sure) that she's a regular starter. I just looked at her previous game, the loss to Ohio St.; not only did she not start, she only played eight minutes off the bench. Does Pam Borton have a set rotation yet? Does she have a go-to guy? Does she have anybody that she feels she can rely on? Is there a player that is reliable? This season's over, but is this inconsistent disarray when it comes to personnel and knowing roles a matter of poor player performance or an scattershot gameplan -- or bad recruiting? More importantly, whose fault is this?
The Goofs, 3-10 in-conference and 11-15 overall, might be better off playing on the road; they're at Northwestern Sunday afternoon and at Michigan Thursday night.
#-9: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). Type timberwolves.com. Right now, they automatically lead you to 612 All-Star, a propaganda site touting the appearances of Kevin Love and Wesley Johnson at All-Star Weekend. That's nice and all (and I care about Love making the actual All-Star Game instead of Johnson's spot in the Rookie-Sophomore Game), but when I need to just look at the Timberwolves' schedule, man, I don't give a shit!
So I have to Google "timberwolves schedule," where I can see that, yes, they really did lose all three games this week, all at home. I went to the loss to Philadelphia Saturday, and this is what I learned:
- Corey Brewer's a nice guy, and he tries to make up for his mistakes, especially his bad passing, but I don't think he's going to cut it;
- This team is bad when a below-.500 team, off a big win at home against the best team in the league, San Antonio, can travel west for a game the next day and win what should be a letdown game by fucking 20;
- At least the Woofie Dogs had the courtesy to collapse in the third quarter. Collapse in the first, you witness three quarters of shitty basketball. Collapse in the second, you still have a whole half to wince through. Collapse in the fourth, your hopes that the Wolves could actually win a game will be raised, only to be dashed visciously in ooh-they-were-so-close! fashion.
- For all their abandonment of defense, they can't score; the FG% was 36.4 us, 51.3 them.
- I was unimpressed with the three dunks I saw of The Blake Show, though on TV, a dunk he made in the third was sufficiently awesome. I believe he jumped so high that his elbow got to the rim. Any dunk like that is awesome.
- I was much more impressed with some of the mid-range and just-inside-the-three-point-line buckets he made. For a guy so big, strong and athletic, he looks like he's got a silky shot. If he can develop that? Shit. ...
- Even with Griffin pouring in 29, the Two Elves still had a chance to win this. Wayne Ellington hit three threes at the end, but the reason the eight-point loss seemed larger is because it felt like the team didn't give a fuck. And they couldn't score in this game, either; Minnesota hit 35.4%, the Bastard Buffalo Braves hit 45.6%.
After the All-Star Break, three games in four days: at Milwaukee and home to Memphis and New Orleans.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Update: The bad news on what my new PCA hours will be has been delayed. That's because ... my Grandmother was out with a friend when she was supposed to be at home for the meeting. Didn't want to call the nurse in case she came home just in time, which has happened, so when she did come, I broke the news.
I feel so bad. That was a shitty deal for her, driving out all this way (and being late, but hey, she's busy) only to immediately leave a minute after coming in because I told her Grandmother wasn't here. I wouldn't blame her for ratting us out.
Anyway, we rescheduled for next week. About 30 minutes later, Grandmother called in and said she forgot.
I feel so bad. That was a shitty deal for her, driving out all this way (and being late, but hey, she's busy) only to immediately leave a minute after coming in because I told her Grandmother wasn't here. I wouldn't blame her for ratting us out.
Anyway, we rescheduled for next week. About 30 minutes later, Grandmother called in and said she forgot.
Still dreading the meeting I'm having with the nurse tomorrow/later today. I just know that the hours I'm getting aren't going to be enough for the unemployment I'll have to drop. This means I'll have to really haul ass and find work, even if it means settling for a job I hate. I have no choice. I wish I did, but I no longer do.
I've dreaded this day for a long time now. And the time is nigh.
I've dreaded this day for a long time now. And the time is nigh.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Rape Is How You Celebrate Your Freedom? Then Fuck All Egyptians
Reading about the "brutal and sustained" sexual assault and battery of CBS News correspondent Lara Logan sickened me and pissed me off. It would have been bad if this were an extension of the first eruption of anti-media violence in Egypt a couple weeks ago during the 18-day nationwide protests. But once I learned that this act of evil happened mere minutes after the announcement that Hosni Mubarak would immediately step down as president of Egypt makes me searingly mad.
I posted such thoughts after a facebook friend linked the story on Ms. Logan's assault. One of the replies from one of the people my friend knows was basically, "Hmmm, defining an entire race of people just by one incident. Interesting." Slightly condescending sarcasm aside, it was a knee-jerk reaction. But my repulsion remains.
This should not be played off as a, "Well, shit happens" kind of thing. No, it shouldn't. This is rape, pure and simple. And I certainly will not accept an excuse of, "This is the price you pay for democracy." No! No woman needs to be subjected to this under any government, dictatorial or free. (Mind you, I am not saying that the poster who responded so curtly to my comment believes those things.)
I do not have all the details, but I have the freedom to speculate. And I doubt that there was a government conspiracy to attack Logan as part of a propoganda war. Why would Mubarak or one of his henchmen give the go-ahead for such a thing if he's about to leave office?
A possible suspect and motive: This interview Logan gave Esquire a few days before the assault, where she exposes the Egyptian Army as not the benevolent angels of freedom and democracy the country's people make them out to be. The overthrow of Mubarak was fueled by Twitter; it's very reasonable to believe that someone from the Army who regularly uses the Internet came across this and ordered a hit on Logan.
But the most likely scenario, and the ugliest: the mob mentality. Let's face it -- Logan is a) a journalist; b) from the West; c) who's very high-profile; d) a woman; and e) attractive. She was in the middle of the Tahrir Square reporting when the entire crowd erupted into jubilation. Logan and her team were outmanned. Looking back at it, the ingredients were there to spark this horrific act.
What I'm still wrestling with, even though it's not important at the end of it all, is whether this was premeditiated or not. It's bad enough to think that after the guys in the square heard the announcement that Mubarak was leaving that they would celebrate by gang-raping a beautiful reporter. But I can also believe that there was some premeditation, whether it was organized on Twitter or agreed upon at the scene by a bunch of sexual predators, that if and when the hot white chick is going to be back at Tahrir, if they have the opportunity, they'll try and fuck her. It's disgusting how the male mind works. It's disgusting how the human mind works.
No, this shouldn't take back everything that's happened to Egypt. But when I hear this, I really don't give a flying shit about reason. Emotions matter. Feelings matter. Bringing justice to an innocent victim of rape matters. At the very least, the very least, this act of inexcusable violence in the middle of a situation that should have brought forth nothing but joy is a buzzkill. And if the truth comes out about who did this and why, I have no problem taking a potshot at the Egyptian people who have brought about their own revolution with insults like the one I actually posted on facebook: "A part of me wishes the country would be back under Mubarak's control."
I know brutal violence on women probably happened before the overthrow. But I had such good feelings for this country. And to immediately perpetrate and/or allow this violence, and to an extraordinary, hard-working, tough-as-nails woman who has the balls to follow the calling of journalism in a way I realized I didn't have once I got my degree, makes me sick and has me demanding revenge.
I hope Ms. Logan is able to recover from this. I'm pretty sure she will. I don't think she'll let the bastards who did this to her change how she works and how brave she will be casting light in the dark places of the world. But ... how do you move on? How do you not let them break you? I wish I knew.
I posted such thoughts after a facebook friend linked the story on Ms. Logan's assault. One of the replies from one of the people my friend knows was basically, "Hmmm, defining an entire race of people just by one incident. Interesting." Slightly condescending sarcasm aside, it was a knee-jerk reaction. But my repulsion remains.
This should not be played off as a, "Well, shit happens" kind of thing. No, it shouldn't. This is rape, pure and simple. And I certainly will not accept an excuse of, "This is the price you pay for democracy." No! No woman needs to be subjected to this under any government, dictatorial or free. (Mind you, I am not saying that the poster who responded so curtly to my comment believes those things.)
I do not have all the details, but I have the freedom to speculate. And I doubt that there was a government conspiracy to attack Logan as part of a propoganda war. Why would Mubarak or one of his henchmen give the go-ahead for such a thing if he's about to leave office?
A possible suspect and motive: This interview Logan gave Esquire a few days before the assault, where she exposes the Egyptian Army as not the benevolent angels of freedom and democracy the country's people make them out to be. The overthrow of Mubarak was fueled by Twitter; it's very reasonable to believe that someone from the Army who regularly uses the Internet came across this and ordered a hit on Logan.
But the most likely scenario, and the ugliest: the mob mentality. Let's face it -- Logan is a) a journalist; b) from the West; c) who's very high-profile; d) a woman; and e) attractive. She was in the middle of the Tahrir Square reporting when the entire crowd erupted into jubilation. Logan and her team were outmanned. Looking back at it, the ingredients were there to spark this horrific act.
What I'm still wrestling with, even though it's not important at the end of it all, is whether this was premeditiated or not. It's bad enough to think that after the guys in the square heard the announcement that Mubarak was leaving that they would celebrate by gang-raping a beautiful reporter. But I can also believe that there was some premeditation, whether it was organized on Twitter or agreed upon at the scene by a bunch of sexual predators, that if and when the hot white chick is going to be back at Tahrir, if they have the opportunity, they'll try and fuck her. It's disgusting how the male mind works. It's disgusting how the human mind works.
No, this shouldn't take back everything that's happened to Egypt. But when I hear this, I really don't give a flying shit about reason. Emotions matter. Feelings matter. Bringing justice to an innocent victim of rape matters. At the very least, the very least, this act of inexcusable violence in the middle of a situation that should have brought forth nothing but joy is a buzzkill. And if the truth comes out about who did this and why, I have no problem taking a potshot at the Egyptian people who have brought about their own revolution with insults like the one I actually posted on facebook: "A part of me wishes the country would be back under Mubarak's control."
I know brutal violence on women probably happened before the overthrow. But I had such good feelings for this country. And to immediately perpetrate and/or allow this violence, and to an extraordinary, hard-working, tough-as-nails woman who has the balls to follow the calling of journalism in a way I realized I didn't have once I got my degree, makes me sick and has me demanding revenge.
I hope Ms. Logan is able to recover from this. I'm pretty sure she will. I don't think she'll let the bastards who did this to her change how she works and how brave she will be casting light in the dark places of the world. But ... how do you move on? How do you not let them break you? I wish I knew.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I Am A Pathological Liar
I think I have given my parents the impression that I have found steady work. It's not that steady because, even though I thought the lab would put me on sabbatical (because my "boss" said she doesn't have the time to find more experiments for me to listen to) over the holidays, I've been told that for sure it'll end later this month. And even then it was only two or three times a week; I think my folks believe I work five afternoons, and thus 20 hours, a week.
I've said I'm "at work" many times when either of my parents call me in the afternoon. Sometimes I am the U.; sometimes I'm watching a movie, or writing something at my Favorite Coffeeshop. I have to lie because they'll get on my ass, again, for not finding a real job.
In the past 24 hours came a double assault to this pyramid of falsehoold from my parents. Even though it wasn't planned, the cumulative effect was pretty incredible to behold.
Last night, Mother asked me if I needed to work the next day, which was today. Instinctively, I said yes. So she tells me that I have to go to the bank to cash some checks for her before "going" to work. Dammit, I have to stay up after administering Grandmother's insulin shot now, don't I?
And then Father asks me about some shit about some stock he's looking into. He's only doing that because he no longer has Internet access at work ... and that's because he didn't want to pay for it anymore. He says he never uses it, and now he's asking me to do his work for him. Whatever. Anyway, since he's such an asshole for me doing things in the morning, this is another thing that I'd have to do before I go to "work."
Still, that didn't stop me from plopping back into my bed as soon as I was done helping out Grandmother. But I couldn't get back to sleep because I mentally went through my to-do list for the day: Call this guy Father wants to bother regarding Vegas real estate ... print out this coupon ... call the bank to see if there's money for the checks Mother wants me to cash, etc. And finally, I get a call from Father, about a half-hour after falling back into bed, asking me to check the stock now. Sigh. No use falling back asleep.
Good thing is that all the tasks on my to-do list that I needed to drive to I did before 1, and so I went back to bed. But at around 2:30, I get another call on my phone. Shit, it's my Father again! He asked me where I was. Well, I told Mother I was going to work, so that's what I told him, too -- even though I was in my bed.
And now I'm panicking. How do I make sure he doesn't find out I lied to him? I was OK with sleeping in my bed for a little while longer, but now I had to make sure I was out the door in case, for some damn reason, he was coming home right now. I had to ask Grandmother to lie to them and tell them I was out all afternoon when I was sleeping in my bed.
Glad that they haven't suspected anything -- yet.
I think I get my lying from My Father. Whenever I saw him enter a pressure situation, he would get all nervous and stammer out something not true just to get away from it. Maybe I'm copying him, or it could be genetic, but I have his way of just pulling shit out of my ass. I've tried to stop, but I don't think I ever can. I hate this about me, but it's a part of me. It's who I am.
I've said I'm "at work" many times when either of my parents call me in the afternoon. Sometimes I am the U.; sometimes I'm watching a movie, or writing something at my Favorite Coffeeshop. I have to lie because they'll get on my ass, again, for not finding a real job.
In the past 24 hours came a double assault to this pyramid of falsehoold from my parents. Even though it wasn't planned, the cumulative effect was pretty incredible to behold.
Last night, Mother asked me if I needed to work the next day, which was today. Instinctively, I said yes. So she tells me that I have to go to the bank to cash some checks for her before "going" to work. Dammit, I have to stay up after administering Grandmother's insulin shot now, don't I?
And then Father asks me about some shit about some stock he's looking into. He's only doing that because he no longer has Internet access at work ... and that's because he didn't want to pay for it anymore. He says he never uses it, and now he's asking me to do his work for him. Whatever. Anyway, since he's such an asshole for me doing things in the morning, this is another thing that I'd have to do before I go to "work."
Still, that didn't stop me from plopping back into my bed as soon as I was done helping out Grandmother. But I couldn't get back to sleep because I mentally went through my to-do list for the day: Call this guy Father wants to bother regarding Vegas real estate ... print out this coupon ... call the bank to see if there's money for the checks Mother wants me to cash, etc. And finally, I get a call from Father, about a half-hour after falling back into bed, asking me to check the stock now. Sigh. No use falling back asleep.
Good thing is that all the tasks on my to-do list that I needed to drive to I did before 1, and so I went back to bed. But at around 2:30, I get another call on my phone. Shit, it's my Father again! He asked me where I was. Well, I told Mother I was going to work, so that's what I told him, too -- even though I was in my bed.
And now I'm panicking. How do I make sure he doesn't find out I lied to him? I was OK with sleeping in my bed for a little while longer, but now I had to make sure I was out the door in case, for some damn reason, he was coming home right now. I had to ask Grandmother to lie to them and tell them I was out all afternoon when I was sleeping in my bed.
Glad that they haven't suspected anything -- yet.
I think I get my lying from My Father. Whenever I saw him enter a pressure situation, he would get all nervous and stammer out something not true just to get away from it. Maybe I'm copying him, or it could be genetic, but I have his way of just pulling shit out of my ass. I've tried to stop, but I don't think I ever can. I hate this about me, but it's a part of me. It's who I am.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
And Now This Really, Really Is The End
Assesssment came back. Good news is, I'm getting an increase in hours.
The bad news is, I finally got around to computing the impact on my income. I rued this day ever since that goddamn translator for my Grandmother basically called for a new assessment two months before it needed to be done.
I get about $120 a week in unemployment. However, there is a maximum to get that, so many hours of work a week, I don't remember what that is. With my Grandmother's new health issues, a bump up in hours is virtually guaranteed (although with this teabagger legislature we now have in the state, I shouldn't say "guaranteed").
I suck at math, at least nowadays. Today I finally got around to writing down how many more hours of PCA work I'll need to make up for the impending loss of unemployment insurance. I still don't know how much it is because I don't know what to halve or quarter, and how much I need to add for taxes ... it's complicated, so complicated that I can't even explain it. What I think it boils down to is, I need to get somewhere between 3/4- to 5 more hours of PCA work to compensate for getting thrown off the dole.
Five hours is a pipe dream. So the other nurse, the one that checks on my Grandmother every other month, I'm going to try and avoid all news in order to have her and only her tell me how miniscule an increase in PCA hours I'm going to receive. That will not even be close to maintaining the income I have now, yet it'll be more than enough to make me ineligible for unemployment. Boom -- even less money for me.
Fuck my life. Just fuck it. I was content with helping out Grandmother, finding "work" at the U., getting unemployment and trying to get my writing career off the ground. Now my blogging's still in its infancy, I'm on my last days at the lab, and I'll have to go back to finding some work, something I dread. And yet, I need the money. I want the ability to pay my bills, make some charitable contributions, fix my car and take a trip to a different city and see some stripclubs. It used to be that being a PCA would do that. I've tightened my belt a lot this past year under my cut hours. And now I'm in a limbo position where I'm actually going to be worse off than I am now.
I'll be honest: I might not have a whole lot of shit going for me right now, but I was alright. Now, I won't be. Not anymore.
The bad news is, I finally got around to computing the impact on my income. I rued this day ever since that goddamn translator for my Grandmother basically called for a new assessment two months before it needed to be done.
I get about $120 a week in unemployment. However, there is a maximum to get that, so many hours of work a week, I don't remember what that is. With my Grandmother's new health issues, a bump up in hours is virtually guaranteed (although with this teabagger legislature we now have in the state, I shouldn't say "guaranteed").
I suck at math, at least nowadays. Today I finally got around to writing down how many more hours of PCA work I'll need to make up for the impending loss of unemployment insurance. I still don't know how much it is because I don't know what to halve or quarter, and how much I need to add for taxes ... it's complicated, so complicated that I can't even explain it. What I think it boils down to is, I need to get somewhere between 3/4- to 5 more hours of PCA work to compensate for getting thrown off the dole.
Five hours is a pipe dream. So the other nurse, the one that checks on my Grandmother every other month, I'm going to try and avoid all news in order to have her and only her tell me how miniscule an increase in PCA hours I'm going to receive. That will not even be close to maintaining the income I have now, yet it'll be more than enough to make me ineligible for unemployment. Boom -- even less money for me.
Fuck my life. Just fuck it. I was content with helping out Grandmother, finding "work" at the U., getting unemployment and trying to get my writing career off the ground. Now my blogging's still in its infancy, I'm on my last days at the lab, and I'll have to go back to finding some work, something I dread. And yet, I need the money. I want the ability to pay my bills, make some charitable contributions, fix my car and take a trip to a different city and see some stripclubs. It used to be that being a PCA would do that. I've tightened my belt a lot this past year under my cut hours. And now I'm in a limbo position where I'm actually going to be worse off than I am now.
I'll be honest: I might not have a whole lot of shit going for me right now, but I was alright. Now, I won't be. Not anymore.
Monday, February 14, 2011
A Break, And This Is What My Favorite Strip Club Turned Into
I needed to stay away from My Favorite Stripclub because I had no money. The cold and the NFL playoffs on the weekends made that task easy.
But I got horny again, so last Thursday I went back for the first time in at least a fortnight, and maybe three weeks. Now, who was there to greet me?
Well, of course I couldn't. I went back Saturday night. Stephanie was still nice and still hot. And the black chick who was scaring the shit out of me was acting much more normally. She asked for a lap, I said yes, and she gave me a sweet massage. Ah, I like the easygoing girl she was this night. The bitch who acts like I don't exist anymore was there too, but we avoided each other just fine.
Best of all, the ex-stripper-turned-waitress, who still dances at private parties, was nice to me and said on Saturday that she would invite me the next time she works one! She asked me to text her today, which I did, and even though I haven't received a reply, I'm heartened to see her naked again -- and to have her see me naked again!
But I got horny again, so last Thursday I went back for the first time in at least a fortnight, and maybe three weeks. Now, who was there to greet me?
- This chick whom I still get lap dances from but is boring. And this time she was really, really hustling me, and it was really annoying me. All I wanted from her this night was a tip dance from her. But after giving her my customary two bucks, she said, "Why don't you give me more?" Later, when she asked again to give her money for a dance, she got all touchy, like my body language was saying more than the "no" coming out of my mouth. "What's wrong?" she asked. Well, she was bothering me with her clinginess, and I was watching sports on the TV at the time she asked me. Damn, woman, leave me alone!
- Another girl, a black chick who's been very, very horny the times I've seen her before, was really, really, really horny this time. And, though I'm shocked that I'm saying this, her horniness was creeping me out. All she did was talk about not getting sex, her broken vibrator and telling her "bitch" sister to go into the sex shop and buy one for her. She's not the greatest-looking stripper at the bar, but what made her sexy to me is her personality. Really! She's a cool chick -- well, was. Anybody I can talk to is someone I certainly don't mind getting an erection to. But what she was like this night ... ugh, it was such a turn-off.
- Another bitch was someone who I think is hot and thought was cool. She dances to alternative music, and she lives around the same part of town as me. But as soon as I got my first dance from her, about a few months ago, she has completely ignored me. It's like I don't exist to her. And she didn't make eye contact with me this night either. Fuck her. Figuratively.
- The only girl I like is Stephanie, a blonde chick who's been in The Life for many years now. Still looks good. She was the only one who talked to me without weirding me out.
Well, of course I couldn't. I went back Saturday night. Stephanie was still nice and still hot. And the black chick who was scaring the shit out of me was acting much more normally. She asked for a lap, I said yes, and she gave me a sweet massage. Ah, I like the easygoing girl she was this night. The bitch who acts like I don't exist anymore was there too, but we avoided each other just fine.
Best of all, the ex-stripper-turned-waitress, who still dances at private parties, was nice to me and said on Saturday that she would invite me the next time she works one! She asked me to text her today, which I did, and even though I haven't received a reply, I'm heartened to see her naked again -- and to have her see me naked again!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I Guess I'm Not A Good Buddhist
Right now I'm trying to gulp down this Chinese concoction my parents love. I don't know exactly what it is. It looks brown and green, and there is seaweed and beans in it. It separates to precipitate and clear layers. And my parents say they put sugar in it, though I've never been able to taste it. They consider it to be a dessert drink, but I've always thought it tastes like shit.
This comes on the heels of Chinese New Year's, which, if we were die-hards, we should still be celebrating. One of our family's traditions is to eat this shit fungus dish -- mushrooms, fried tofu, abalone, babycorn, seaweed, and my folks' feces for all I know. It looks just as brown and green as this piss drink I'm drinking now. Does anybody eat or drink anything that looks brown and green? Course not -- they're inedible colors. And yet Chinese people consume these all the time.
Well, not me -- well, not exactly. I felt bad for entirely skipping this traditional dish because I've become more conscious of my roots. So starting last year, I've tried eating that vegetarian goop. But I made sure I really, really eat a little -- like, one single mushroom, one little piece of tofu, etc. And I barely get through it without throwing up.
Guess I'm not a good Chinese person.
This comes on the heels of Chinese New Year's, which, if we were die-hards, we should still be celebrating. One of our family's traditions is to eat this shit fungus dish -- mushrooms, fried tofu, abalone, babycorn, seaweed, and my folks' feces for all I know. It looks just as brown and green as this piss drink I'm drinking now. Does anybody eat or drink anything that looks brown and green? Course not -- they're inedible colors. And yet Chinese people consume these all the time.
Well, not me -- well, not exactly. I felt bad for entirely skipping this traditional dish because I've become more conscious of my roots. So starting last year, I've tried eating that vegetarian goop. But I made sure I really, really eat a little -- like, one single mushroom, one little piece of tofu, etc. And I barely get through it without throwing up.
Guess I'm not a good Chinese person.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -3). Marauding through the Big Ten with wins at Ohio St. and 10th-ranked Michigan. They may not be at the top of the conference or the standings, but for the first time in several years, thinking that this team can win the NCAA title isn't a laughable idea.
The end of the regular season sets up as well as can be. They've got the two Big Ten teams that are ranked higher than the Gophs, but they get them both at home. First up for the fifth- or sixth-ranked grapplers (depending on which poll you look at): 3rd-ranked Penn St. and Head Coach/Fuckin' Rasslin' Godhead Cael Sanderson this Sunday afternoon. Lose this, J Robinson, and you know your team's ceiling.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -5). Like the wrestlers, this team is still superior than most despite knowing in the back of their heads they are not true contenders. Still, you take a pair of 4-1 wins over St. Cloud St. (nobody important) and Bemidji St. (one of those "Also Receiving Votes" teams) whenever you can. They have won three in a row after losing at top-ranked Wisconsin by a combined score of 16-2. Also, congratulations to Forward Amanda Kessel. She was named WCHA Offensive Player Of The Week for her performance in the sweep vs. St. Cloud St.
This week: Finishing the series against Bemidji St. at Ridder Saturday afternoon, then starting the final series of the regular season Friday at North Dakota, a team ranked eighth in both women's college hockey polls. Wins these last two weeks could/should push them past UMD as the second-best team in the conference behind top-ranked Wisconsin.
#-3: Gopher volleyball (Re-Entry!). The retirement of Head Coach Dr. Mike Hebert was buried, figuratively, because the Metrodome was buried, literally, after that huge blizzard in December. The departure of a legend deserves more pub, even if it is in a minor sport.
And the announcement of who replaces Hebert also is being underreported. It shouldn't; despite having big shoes to fill, and despite the danger that the program will backslide if they don't find the right replacement, Athletic Director Joel Maturi hit a fucking home run. Assistant Laura Bush, who coached Marquette and Auburn, will be interim Head Coach, and she will help hand off the job to ... Hugh McCutcheon.
Never heard of Hugh McCutcheon? You saw him if you watched the Summer Olympics three years ago. He's the guy who led the United States men's team to the gold medal after his father-in-law was murdered in Beijing. He currently is running the U.S. women's team, and there will be a point at which he gives up his duties, which will be no later than the 2012 Summer Games.
How come McCutcheon is heading up the U.? His wife is from here. And, hopefully, he believes that Minnesota is one of the premier college programs in women's volleyball. Ballbusting, bullying former Women's Athletic Director Chris Voelz turned out to be visionary in putting volleyball onto the university's frontburner by stealing Dr. Hebert away from Illinois in 1996. Maturi has ensured that this sport will remain a priority by getting McCutcheon.
The only thing hesitation I have is whether McCutcheon can recruit. He has never coached at a college before, so he might lean on his wife, who is from the state, for help. But any incoming high school senior picking a place to go to will know who he is, and more importantly, they know he's a winner. That has to be enough to convince a blue-chipper to come to the U. If you are a fan of all college sports and the U., you have to give Maturi major credit for this stunning coup.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -1). A 1-0 blip in Phoenix Saturday, but they followed that up with wins over Colorado and (in a nine-man shootout) St. Louis. They came back to tie the Blues (and remember that this is a road game) four times. And they have now won five out of their last six games. But yet they are still on the outside looking in on the playoff picture because, apparently, all the teams they're fighting with for playoff spots have won just as much as the Wild have during their hot streak.
I'm encouraged by the strength up the middle. Like in baseball, the players positioned in the center of the ice are believed to be the most important ones in hockey. For the Wild, Goalies Niklas Backstrom and Jose Theodore have been solid and at times stellar, Defenseman Brent Burns is becoming a star, and Matt Cullen has become a good second Center behind Mikko Koivu. This is a good team that can cause a ruckus in the totally random Stanley Cup Playoffs. Now they just have to make the playoffs. They have three home games the next screening week (St. Louis, Vancouver and Anaheim) with a quick trip to Chicago inbetween.
(As an aside, I will be going to the X Sunday afternoon, but not for a Wild game. Their AAA affiliate, the Houston Aeros, are once again playing a game in the arena of their parent club. They host the Peoria Rivermen in an American Hockey League game. I think it'll be cool, and I've never done it before, so I'm going to check it out!)
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). An encouraging 2-2 week. Yeah, they lost to Denver, but the Nugz are clearly better. And then they win two straight on the road against New Orleans and Houston. In the Rockets win, Kevin Love collected his 38th consecutive double-double, passing Kevin Garnett for most double-doubles in a row in Minnesota professional basketball history. They won back-to-back road games for the first time in about 22 months. And the Woofie Dogs beat Houston for the first time in over four years. Finally, a frustrating loss at Indiana when they led by 7 entering the fourth quarter before having one of their patented collapses.
Heard that the Wolves were thinking about getting in on a three-team trade that would've sent Corey Brewer away and landed them Anthony Randolph and Eddy Curry. OK, I think I have to stop defending Brewer. He seems like a nice guy, but his potential in the Associaton may have reached its peak because he makes bad decisions when shooting and can't guard real well. But why does a team that has decent-to-good Forwards and Centers trade for one of each? Is David Kahn divesting himself of all veteran guards because he thinks he has Ricky Rubio coming in?
They have three games before the All-Star Game, which is next weekend. Luckily for the Timberwolves, they're all at home: Philadelphia, Portland and the L.A. Clippers.
#-6: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -8). They're not coming back. They're not going to reach the Final Five, which St. Paul always hosts. And they sure as fuck won't be in this year's NCAA Tournament either. Not after dropping games against both teams ranked fourth for this screening week, UMD (6-4) and Denver (2-1). In the Bulldogs loss, Mike Connolly scored all but one of his team's goals. How the fuck do the Gophs allow one guy to go off like that?
Let Lucia Watch begin. This week: hosting Denver this (Saturday) afternoon (as part of Fox Sports North's "Hockey Day Minnesota"), then at Wisconsin Friday.
#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -2). This program ain't gonna go to the NCAAs neither. After ripping off three wins in a row to stir talk that the team might make a late charge for a berth, they lost at Iowa Thursday in excruciating fashion: They let a girl named Kachine Alexander to drive to the hoop and score with 5 seconds left, and then a girl named Kamille Wahlin stole the ball off the dribble from Kiara Buford to seal the 64-62 victory.
Besides the ending, this was a hell of a game. The Gophs led by four points at halftime and there were six ties in the second half, the last of which was a China Antoine three-pointer. But Alexander seemingly had the ball from the inbounds and just managed to drive to the rim. Pathetic.
Well, there is always the Women's NIT, right? Naw! Oh, when does Borton Watch begin -- after Don Lucia is fired as coach of the U.'s men's hockey team? Well, at least their two games this week are at home -- Ohio St. Sunday afternoon, Purdue Thursday night.
#-8: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -9). Has Tubby Smith reached a turning point? No, not the Gophs' loss at home to top-ranked Ohio St. Super Bowl Sunday; that 13-point loss proved more than anything that the Buckeyes are one of four or five teams that are very, very good in this season of stultifying parity.
No, it's the next loss, their fourth in a row, at home to Illinois Thursday night. Well, no, actually; the turning point was Tubby's press conference after that loss to the Illini. The frustration is understandable: Here you have a team that is treading water alongside the Gophers in the middle of the Big Ten and just fell out of the rankings, and you have them in the Barn. This is a prime chance to break the losing streak, and yet you lose by nine???
And so Smith took it out on his players. Like, throwing them under the but, specifically Blake Hoffarber ("I thought Blake took some bad shots. I just told him, 'Why don't you shot-fake and get a foul one time, please, during a game?'") and Rodney Williams ("He's standing around. I don't know what it is."). Followers of the team counter that he's bitching about a 1 and a 2 who are playing out of position; Hoffarber should be a shooting guard and Williams needs to play at small forward.
What happens to the team now? Will they knuckle under Smith's renewed focus on fundamentals, or tune him out for good? And what does this loss do to Smith's untarnished halo on campus? There's a chance that this loss was one too many. It's right to think that this program should have progressed to the point where they can beat teams just as good as they are at home. I liken this defeat to the much-anticipated game for the U. football team against Michigan at the Metrodome a long time ago, the one where they had a huge lead at halftime but choked and lost. I think that was the beginning of the end for Glen Mason, and I'm afraid that unless he can conjure lightning from a bottle, the violinist is stringing up for Tubby.
This week: Two winnable games, but both on the road -- Iowa Sunday, Penn St. Thursday.
The end of the regular season sets up as well as can be. They've got the two Big Ten teams that are ranked higher than the Gophs, but they get them both at home. First up for the fifth- or sixth-ranked grapplers (depending on which poll you look at): 3rd-ranked Penn St. and Head Coach/Fuckin' Rasslin' Godhead Cael Sanderson this Sunday afternoon. Lose this, J Robinson, and you know your team's ceiling.
#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -5). Like the wrestlers, this team is still superior than most despite knowing in the back of their heads they are not true contenders. Still, you take a pair of 4-1 wins over St. Cloud St. (nobody important) and Bemidji St. (one of those "Also Receiving Votes" teams) whenever you can. They have won three in a row after losing at top-ranked Wisconsin by a combined score of 16-2. Also, congratulations to Forward Amanda Kessel. She was named WCHA Offensive Player Of The Week for her performance in the sweep vs. St. Cloud St.
This week: Finishing the series against Bemidji St. at Ridder Saturday afternoon, then starting the final series of the regular season Friday at North Dakota, a team ranked eighth in both women's college hockey polls. Wins these last two weeks could/should push them past UMD as the second-best team in the conference behind top-ranked Wisconsin.
#-3: Gopher volleyball (Re-Entry!). The retirement of Head Coach Dr. Mike Hebert was buried, figuratively, because the Metrodome was buried, literally, after that huge blizzard in December. The departure of a legend deserves more pub, even if it is in a minor sport.
And the announcement of who replaces Hebert also is being underreported. It shouldn't; despite having big shoes to fill, and despite the danger that the program will backslide if they don't find the right replacement, Athletic Director Joel Maturi hit a fucking home run. Assistant Laura Bush, who coached Marquette and Auburn, will be interim Head Coach, and she will help hand off the job to ... Hugh McCutcheon.
Never heard of Hugh McCutcheon? You saw him if you watched the Summer Olympics three years ago. He's the guy who led the United States men's team to the gold medal after his father-in-law was murdered in Beijing. He currently is running the U.S. women's team, and there will be a point at which he gives up his duties, which will be no later than the 2012 Summer Games.
How come McCutcheon is heading up the U.? His wife is from here. And, hopefully, he believes that Minnesota is one of the premier college programs in women's volleyball. Ballbusting, bullying former Women's Athletic Director Chris Voelz turned out to be visionary in putting volleyball onto the university's frontburner by stealing Dr. Hebert away from Illinois in 1996. Maturi has ensured that this sport will remain a priority by getting McCutcheon.
The only thing hesitation I have is whether McCutcheon can recruit. He has never coached at a college before, so he might lean on his wife, who is from the state, for help. But any incoming high school senior picking a place to go to will know who he is, and more importantly, they know he's a winner. That has to be enough to convince a blue-chipper to come to the U. If you are a fan of all college sports and the U., you have to give Maturi major credit for this stunning coup.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -1). A 1-0 blip in Phoenix Saturday, but they followed that up with wins over Colorado and (in a nine-man shootout) St. Louis. They came back to tie the Blues (and remember that this is a road game) four times. And they have now won five out of their last six games. But yet they are still on the outside looking in on the playoff picture because, apparently, all the teams they're fighting with for playoff spots have won just as much as the Wild have during their hot streak.
I'm encouraged by the strength up the middle. Like in baseball, the players positioned in the center of the ice are believed to be the most important ones in hockey. For the Wild, Goalies Niklas Backstrom and Jose Theodore have been solid and at times stellar, Defenseman Brent Burns is becoming a star, and Matt Cullen has become a good second Center behind Mikko Koivu. This is a good team that can cause a ruckus in the totally random Stanley Cup Playoffs. Now they just have to make the playoffs. They have three home games the next screening week (St. Louis, Vancouver and Anaheim) with a quick trip to Chicago inbetween.
(As an aside, I will be going to the X Sunday afternoon, but not for a Wild game. Their AAA affiliate, the Houston Aeros, are once again playing a game in the arena of their parent club. They host the Peoria Rivermen in an American Hockey League game. I think it'll be cool, and I've never done it before, so I'm going to check it out!)
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). An encouraging 2-2 week. Yeah, they lost to Denver, but the Nugz are clearly better. And then they win two straight on the road against New Orleans and Houston. In the Rockets win, Kevin Love collected his 38th consecutive double-double, passing Kevin Garnett for most double-doubles in a row in Minnesota professional basketball history. They won back-to-back road games for the first time in about 22 months. And the Woofie Dogs beat Houston for the first time in over four years. Finally, a frustrating loss at Indiana when they led by 7 entering the fourth quarter before having one of their patented collapses.
Heard that the Wolves were thinking about getting in on a three-team trade that would've sent Corey Brewer away and landed them Anthony Randolph and Eddy Curry. OK, I think I have to stop defending Brewer. He seems like a nice guy, but his potential in the Associaton may have reached its peak because he makes bad decisions when shooting and can't guard real well. But why does a team that has decent-to-good Forwards and Centers trade for one of each? Is David Kahn divesting himself of all veteran guards because he thinks he has Ricky Rubio coming in?
They have three games before the All-Star Game, which is next weekend. Luckily for the Timberwolves, they're all at home: Philadelphia, Portland and the L.A. Clippers.
#-6: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -8). They're not coming back. They're not going to reach the Final Five, which St. Paul always hosts. And they sure as fuck won't be in this year's NCAA Tournament either. Not after dropping games against both teams ranked fourth for this screening week, UMD (6-4) and Denver (2-1). In the Bulldogs loss, Mike Connolly scored all but one of his team's goals. How the fuck do the Gophs allow one guy to go off like that?
Let Lucia Watch begin. This week: hosting Denver this (Saturday) afternoon (as part of Fox Sports North's "Hockey Day Minnesota"), then at Wisconsin Friday.
#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -2). This program ain't gonna go to the NCAAs neither. After ripping off three wins in a row to stir talk that the team might make a late charge for a berth, they lost at Iowa Thursday in excruciating fashion: They let a girl named Kachine Alexander to drive to the hoop and score with 5 seconds left, and then a girl named Kamille Wahlin stole the ball off the dribble from Kiara Buford to seal the 64-62 victory.
Besides the ending, this was a hell of a game. The Gophs led by four points at halftime and there were six ties in the second half, the last of which was a China Antoine three-pointer. But Alexander seemingly had the ball from the inbounds and just managed to drive to the rim. Pathetic.
Well, there is always the Women's NIT, right? Naw! Oh, when does Borton Watch begin -- after Don Lucia is fired as coach of the U.'s men's hockey team? Well, at least their two games this week are at home -- Ohio St. Sunday afternoon, Purdue Thursday night.
#-8: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -9). Has Tubby Smith reached a turning point? No, not the Gophs' loss at home to top-ranked Ohio St. Super Bowl Sunday; that 13-point loss proved more than anything that the Buckeyes are one of four or five teams that are very, very good in this season of stultifying parity.
No, it's the next loss, their fourth in a row, at home to Illinois Thursday night. Well, no, actually; the turning point was Tubby's press conference after that loss to the Illini. The frustration is understandable: Here you have a team that is treading water alongside the Gophers in the middle of the Big Ten and just fell out of the rankings, and you have them in the Barn. This is a prime chance to break the losing streak, and yet you lose by nine???
And so Smith took it out on his players. Like, throwing them under the but, specifically Blake Hoffarber ("I thought Blake took some bad shots. I just told him, 'Why don't you shot-fake and get a foul one time, please, during a game?'") and Rodney Williams ("He's standing around. I don't know what it is."). Followers of the team counter that he's bitching about a 1 and a 2 who are playing out of position; Hoffarber should be a shooting guard and Williams needs to play at small forward.
What happens to the team now? Will they knuckle under Smith's renewed focus on fundamentals, or tune him out for good? And what does this loss do to Smith's untarnished halo on campus? There's a chance that this loss was one too many. It's right to think that this program should have progressed to the point where they can beat teams just as good as they are at home. I liken this defeat to the much-anticipated game for the U. football team against Michigan at the Metrodome a long time ago, the one where they had a huge lead at halftime but choked and lost. I think that was the beginning of the end for Glen Mason, and I'm afraid that unless he can conjure lightning from a bottle, the violinist is stringing up for Tubby.
This week: Two winnable games, but both on the road -- Iowa Sunday, Penn St. Thursday.
Friday, February 11, 2011
I Fucking Hate The New Sirius XM Online Radio Player
I often don't shut my computer down. Instead, I put it on hibernate. Does everybody do that? I don't know. But if there's writing I want to get back to, or if there's something I want to read on the Internet later, that's what I do. I think I hibernate more than shut down, even though I think it's not good for my laptop.
I also listen to my XM (now Sirius XM) Satellite Radio online. All you have to do is give your e-mail and password, and they know if you're a subscriber or not. I always put it on, so when I hibernate the laptop, I pause the radio player, but I don't logout or close or anything.
Well, I did that after having coffee late night Friday. I come home, watch the rerun of Washington Week, and then do some more work and surfing on the Internet. But when I hit the button of the station/channel to reactivate the online radio, bring up another window, then come back to the player because it's not playing anything, I was taken aback: The entire page was redesigned!
It used to look like this. What do you think? Yes, it seems basic, and there's one predominant color for each genre that might hurt some people's eyes, and there is a lot of words but no pictures. It wasn't great formally. But I miss it now. And it took one or two spins with the new player for me to figure out why.
What it looks like now is a blue-and-white webpage that opens up to about half a full-screen size. Instead of having huge horizontal bars with which to click on a new channel, there is now what they call a "spectrum" of small and tight vertical bars, each representing a channel. You hover your mouse over one of these blips and you'll see the logo of the station and the name of the artist and song playing at that moment. And when you click, information about the channel and a photo of the cover art of the album the current song comes from appears below this "spectrum."
The most bothersome thing about the redesign, and this really, really pisses me off, are these vertical bars for each station. They are too small to click on. You don't understand how many times in the past five-to-six days I try to hit a bar and I get the channel next to the one I want. Also, previewing what's on each channel is limited only to the one your mouse is on. You could see what's playing on all the other channels on the old design; all you had to do is scroll down. Does Sirius XM know how frustrating it is to seek another station but being confined to hunt and peck for other options one at a time? Do they really think I could just click on a random bar and listen to whatever I get?
Does Sirius XM have a Twitter? Their homepage is so shitty, I don't think they're technologically savvy or willing to have one. But my God, there has to be other people who thinks the new Sirius XM online radio player sucks big donkey dick.
I also listen to my XM (now Sirius XM) Satellite Radio online. All you have to do is give your e-mail and password, and they know if you're a subscriber or not. I always put it on, so when I hibernate the laptop, I pause the radio player, but I don't logout or close or anything.
Well, I did that after having coffee late night Friday. I come home, watch the rerun of Washington Week, and then do some more work and surfing on the Internet. But when I hit the button of the station/channel to reactivate the online radio, bring up another window, then come back to the player because it's not playing anything, I was taken aback: The entire page was redesigned!
It used to look like this. What do you think? Yes, it seems basic, and there's one predominant color for each genre that might hurt some people's eyes, and there is a lot of words but no pictures. It wasn't great formally. But I miss it now. And it took one or two spins with the new player for me to figure out why.
What it looks like now is a blue-and-white webpage that opens up to about half a full-screen size. Instead of having huge horizontal bars with which to click on a new channel, there is now what they call a "spectrum" of small and tight vertical bars, each representing a channel. You hover your mouse over one of these blips and you'll see the logo of the station and the name of the artist and song playing at that moment. And when you click, information about the channel and a photo of the cover art of the album the current song comes from appears below this "spectrum."
The most bothersome thing about the redesign, and this really, really pisses me off, are these vertical bars for each station. They are too small to click on. You don't understand how many times in the past five-to-six days I try to hit a bar and I get the channel next to the one I want. Also, previewing what's on each channel is limited only to the one your mouse is on. You could see what's playing on all the other channels on the old design; all you had to do is scroll down. Does Sirius XM know how frustrating it is to seek another station but being confined to hunt and peck for other options one at a time? Do they really think I could just click on a random bar and listen to whatever I get?
Does Sirius XM have a Twitter? Their homepage is so shitty, I don't think they're technologically savvy or willing to have one. But my God, there has to be other people who thinks the new Sirius XM online radio player sucks big donkey dick.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
This happened about a month ago:
Went to a meeting in downtown Minneapolis. It was really cold. I went into a parking ramp that charged by the hour. I had to raise my shivering hand to see what time the machine said I came in, just so I don't go over.
So I have the meeting and, because they left food over and because I didn't want to charge back into the cold so quickly, I lollygagged it. Until I estimated I had so many minutes before I would get charged for the next hour. Then I put on my coat and braved the weather.
But I was kind of afraid I was cutting it close. Sure enough, when I popped my ticket in, I was charged an extra hour. But I thought I had enough time?
I looked at the ticket-turned-pass out of the ramp for the timestamps. According to the machine, I put it in one minute into the next hour. One fucking minute.
I didn't go to the stripclub to make up for the money I wasted for that bullshit.
Fuck this noise. I know it happened last month, but still, fuck it.
Went to a meeting in downtown Minneapolis. It was really cold. I went into a parking ramp that charged by the hour. I had to raise my shivering hand to see what time the machine said I came in, just so I don't go over.
So I have the meeting and, because they left food over and because I didn't want to charge back into the cold so quickly, I lollygagged it. Until I estimated I had so many minutes before I would get charged for the next hour. Then I put on my coat and braved the weather.
But I was kind of afraid I was cutting it close. Sure enough, when I popped my ticket in, I was charged an extra hour. But I thought I had enough time?
I looked at the ticket-turned-pass out of the ramp for the timestamps. According to the machine, I put it in one minute into the next hour. One fucking minute.
I didn't go to the stripclub to make up for the money I wasted for that bullshit.
Fuck this noise. I know it happened last month, but still, fuck it.
Mother And Father Being Mother And Father Tonight
Told parents during dinner that I won't be eating at home Monday. Mother asks why. Told her I'm hanging out with my friend who recently broke up with his girlfriend. Didn't tell them the real reason: Want to go to this houseparty and see if I can show a stripper there my cock.
Mother then asks me why don't I use the holiday to try and find a girlfriend? "Not a good day," I say.
She's been on my ass for not trying to find someone, especially now that my brother and sister are married. So she goes, "Are you a boy or a girl?"
I'm trying, really, really hard, to chalk up that comment to not knowing English. I just said, "Some days I don't know" when I should've just fuckin' clocked her in the face.
And after dinner we spoke to each other like nothing happened.
---
In another of his hare-brained, get-rich-quick-via auction pipe dreams, Father showed me this brass pot he says is from the Ming Dynasty. He wanted to sell it because he says it'd bring a shitload of money, so one day some time ago he asked me to take pictures of it.
I didn't think too much of it because I didn't take him seriously (still don't). Because I'm not a master of lighting, there is a heavy shadow on the other side of the one where Father was shining a light. I've done this before for him on other items he thought were valuable, so I could've stopped him and told him we need to light this better and snap another photo, or maybe even tell him I'll do it during the day. But I didn't because, I'm guessing, I wanted to go back to bed.
A week ago he wanted to send pictures for appraisal and, hopefully, sale. So I was preparing to review these pictures when I remembered that they weren't good photos. But then I looked a little closer and found another reason they weren't good photos: They're out-of-focus. How can a camera take out-of-focus pictures? I thought that ended with the death of the film camera.
Good thing I asked him yesterday where the pot was. I really needed to re-take photos now. So I took it out of its hiding place, put it on Mother's office table (like I did with the other supposedly-expensive items Father has and displays around the house), and re-took photos. I then took my camera to Target to get prints of the photos I snapped today and from before with help from Father.
Unfortunately, when I previewed them on the big Kodak machine they have at Target, I saw that the photos I made today were also out-of-focus. Is the problem that I'm too close? Do I need to change the settings on the camera? Should I have taken the pics with my glasses on so I was sure they'd be in focus? Well, too fucking late; I printed them all out anyway. I put it in an envelope and left it at his computer for him.
After dinner, he came upstairs with the pictures. Father and Mother were talking to each other at a level that made me think they were talking about me but didn't really want me to overhear. I hate when they do that.
So I had to know. I confronted Father in the kitchen while he was washing dishes: "Do you like the photos? I can do it again." To which he replied he was OK with them ... but the pot had to be shot in front of a black or a white background. I agreed with him, but I don't know why. If he has a problem with the photos I took today, he should man up and say so. Did he understand what I was trying to do? Did I really understand what he was saying?
I really didn't until later in the evening, when he made me type out a letter to this auctioneer for him (no address ... he never has one; how can I type up a proper letter without an address?) and made me stuff the pictures into the envelope. Except he didn't want to send the pictures I took by myself today. It's that kind of rejection that quintessentially marks my relationship with him.
But then he pays me back for the prints and gives me more money to send it, and we continue to speak to each other like nothing happened. I should be more pissed off. But maybe nothing did happen.
But maybe, just in case, I'll go and work out over the weekend after thinking I'll just stay home to keep the peace.
Mother then asks me why don't I use the holiday to try and find a girlfriend? "Not a good day," I say.
She's been on my ass for not trying to find someone, especially now that my brother and sister are married. So she goes, "Are you a boy or a girl?"
I'm trying, really, really hard, to chalk up that comment to not knowing English. I just said, "Some days I don't know" when I should've just fuckin' clocked her in the face.
And after dinner we spoke to each other like nothing happened.
---
In another of his hare-brained, get-rich-quick-via auction pipe dreams, Father showed me this brass pot he says is from the Ming Dynasty. He wanted to sell it because he says it'd bring a shitload of money, so one day some time ago he asked me to take pictures of it.
I didn't think too much of it because I didn't take him seriously (still don't). Because I'm not a master of lighting, there is a heavy shadow on the other side of the one where Father was shining a light. I've done this before for him on other items he thought were valuable, so I could've stopped him and told him we need to light this better and snap another photo, or maybe even tell him I'll do it during the day. But I didn't because, I'm guessing, I wanted to go back to bed.
A week ago he wanted to send pictures for appraisal and, hopefully, sale. So I was preparing to review these pictures when I remembered that they weren't good photos. But then I looked a little closer and found another reason they weren't good photos: They're out-of-focus. How can a camera take out-of-focus pictures? I thought that ended with the death of the film camera.
Good thing I asked him yesterday where the pot was. I really needed to re-take photos now. So I took it out of its hiding place, put it on Mother's office table (like I did with the other supposedly-expensive items Father has and displays around the house), and re-took photos. I then took my camera to Target to get prints of the photos I snapped today and from before with help from Father.
Unfortunately, when I previewed them on the big Kodak machine they have at Target, I saw that the photos I made today were also out-of-focus. Is the problem that I'm too close? Do I need to change the settings on the camera? Should I have taken the pics with my glasses on so I was sure they'd be in focus? Well, too fucking late; I printed them all out anyway. I put it in an envelope and left it at his computer for him.
After dinner, he came upstairs with the pictures. Father and Mother were talking to each other at a level that made me think they were talking about me but didn't really want me to overhear. I hate when they do that.
So I had to know. I confronted Father in the kitchen while he was washing dishes: "Do you like the photos? I can do it again." To which he replied he was OK with them ... but the pot had to be shot in front of a black or a white background. I agreed with him, but I don't know why. If he has a problem with the photos I took today, he should man up and say so. Did he understand what I was trying to do? Did I really understand what he was saying?
I really didn't until later in the evening, when he made me type out a letter to this auctioneer for him (no address ... he never has one; how can I type up a proper letter without an address?) and made me stuff the pictures into the envelope. Except he didn't want to send the pictures I took by myself today. It's that kind of rejection that quintessentially marks my relationship with him.
But then he pays me back for the prints and gives me more money to send it, and we continue to speak to each other like nothing happened. I should be more pissed off. But maybe nothing did happen.
But maybe, just in case, I'll go and work out over the weekend after thinking I'll just stay home to keep the peace.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
This guy ... this asshole who threatened to have me fired ... that son-of-a-bitch threatened me over two months ago, and I still -- still! -- can't get over that. It's been getting worse lately; I'd have some idle time to think, and my memories go back to that dark confrontation with that evil bully, and I think of slapping him, and hitting and kicking and killing him for what he could do to me. And I know that I'm acting out, so people can see this. I was at the gym tonight and I caught myself in this trance-like state where all I could do was think about that prick. If anybody saw me blink or shake my head vigorously or, even though I don't know if I did, throw punches or act like I was stabbing someone, well, they would think I was crazy. And maybe I am.
Why am I letting this flak, this assistant motherfucker who probably can't get me fired, why am I letting him dominate my thoughts? Why am I letting him have control over me like this? And why am I obsessing over this douchelord when he probably hasn't thought of me after I exited his line of sight. Well, that's the luxury bullies enjoy: Making threats instead of taking them.
Why am I letting this flak, this assistant motherfucker who probably can't get me fired, why am I letting him dominate my thoughts? Why am I letting him have control over me like this? And why am I obsessing over this douchelord when he probably hasn't thought of me after I exited his line of sight. Well, that's the luxury bullies enjoy: Making threats instead of taking them.
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