From Working Out To ... Being Out For Only Thirty Minutes???

Because I haven't worked out in a while, and because I sat on my ass eating popcorn and pop watching The Artist this afternoon (verdict: Very charming, and I came out feeling good about myself, which is rare, but I want to think it's a better movie than I fear it actually is), and because I followed that up with two cups of coffee I filled with sugar, I wanted to work out tonight.

I reconsidered later this evening, however. Thing is, exercising for a worthwhile amount is contingent on getting out early enough in the night, and that's dependent on when I eat, and I can only do that when my parents get home. They've gotten home early, they've gotten home late. I just never know when.

Compounding all of that, as I was thinking all this while having coffee in My Favorite Coffeeshop (Afternoon Division), was the modem has gotten back to being unreliable. I remember that I was surfing really slow on the Internet last night, unforgivably so. It got so bad that I could do the things I wanted to do, and not just porn. If I had some things I wanted to do, maybe having a night out just working on my computer wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

So I had options: If the 'Rents come home early enough, work out. If not, work on my laptop. And they came home around 7:30. Shit.

We just ate pork chops and rice, and I ate them early enough that, if I left immediately afterward, I could get an hour of exercise. But Father had been noticeably squawking at Grandmother after she opened up her goddamn mouth about once again buying a whole chicken that none of us were going to eat. I didn't know what to do; I didn't want to just sit there seeing Grandmother eat and be a buffer between her and My Father, yet I didn't feel good about leaving the house until he went downstairs without killing her. So I impotently went into my room and idly waited until Father got done cleaning the kitchen. Why he was cleaning there so long, I haven't the faintest idea.

After he went downstairs, I felt a bowel movement. I shit something the size of a grape. So I got out of the house a bit after 9. And this is when I vowed to come back to watch Letterman, all of Letterman, at 10:35.

Driving out, I realized that I intended to fill up my gas tank. Even though I had a quarter tank left and prices recently spiked to $3.40, I wanted to take advantage of the coupon I had because Tuesdays count double at the gas station I go to. But I took a right instead of a left when I realized this, so I had to make a U-turn. Then, after listening to the fucking goddamn Wild cough up three goals in 3 1/2 minutes and piss away a 4-2 lead to lose to Nashville (why does Nashville have a hockey team again?), I got so distracted that I took the wrong exit. I had to double back by making three left turns. Finally, I had to look for a couple minutes for a plug for my laptop in this coffeeshop, which is usually very busy.

So, all told, by the time I sat down and was ready to work on my laptop, it was ten to 10. If I wanted to get home in time to catch the beginning of Letterman, I should be leaving ... oh, right about now, 10:21, approximately a half-hour after I sat down.

Why didn't I just stay home? Not only did I not work out, I got fatter because I'm drinking yet another cup of coffee I filled with sugar. Plus I can't do what I want to do on the computer because I decided to blog about this instead. And I'm going to take so much time dicking around on the Internet that I'll come back too late to catch Letterman's monologue, which I always like.

Fuck my life.

Wait, Are They Really Going To Just Drag Grandmother Away?

I just hope they don't say anything bad, I just hope they don't say anything bad, is all I thought when I went downstairs. I needed both of my parental units to sign something: My Father for his Mayo Clinic forms, Mother for PCA services I render for Grandmother.

I thought it'd be Father who'd get on my case, either for having Mother sign forms for Grandmother when they're planning to throw her into a nursing home or over me going back to school (it's fucked up, but whenever I venture into that nasty pit of vipers he usually ambushes me over going back to school). But once again they surprised me.

They were both in their bedroom. I give Father his forms to sign first, and he does, cheerfully and without incident. He actually went to the bathroom when I went to Mother to sign the forms I needed her to sign. But when she asked me what they were about and I told her, she went, "Why do I need to sign these? Grandmother's going to the nursing home very soon."

No-no-no-no-no-no, don't say that. I wanted to close my ears and go "la-la-la-la-la, I can't hear anything," like when I was little.

Grandmother still doesn't know what the fuck's going to happen to her -- not because she's senile, but no one is telling her. Seriously, are they just going to go up to her room one day and tell her she's being kicked out of the house, and then literally take her by the arms, put her in their car, and drive her to the nursing home, one that not only she may not have visited yet but may not have even heard of before? Shouldn't people be given time to think about this move? Shouldn't they even be told?

Walked Into A Closed Store

I wanted to help out at The Store, even if I got there at a quarter to 2, a bit later than I planned. But when I got there and used my key to open the door, I saw that it was closed. No lights were on and the front door was locked, though not padlocked. The lottery sign was still on, so I think Father was planning to come back.

With us being closed, I decided my stay could be short. All I did was check my lottery tickets and tape the copy of the insurance cards to the Mayo Clinic ream of applications. I was there, oh, 20 minutes before leaving.

It is the second time this has happened. The first time was Wednesday. I did the same thing, check my lottery tickets and go. Then I was on my way to the U.'s MRI tube ... but not before hitting My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). Which reminds me that I need to do another Expenses Without Receipt blog post.

I am not too worried about The Store closing after this. For one reason, being able to open the door into it makes me feel like we still own it. And second, I helped out Thursday, and Father needed help using the lottery machine to order more ticket stock. Now why would The Store need more ticket stock if it were to close?

I never like being home when my parents come home on the weekends. I usually think My Fucking Father would think it the perfect time to yell at me for not doing chores around the house. For no particular reason I felt I needed to flee the house, even if for only a couple hours, even if I come back before they do.

Well, I stayed long enough at My Favorite Coffeeshop (Afternoon Edition) working on The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey that My Fucking Father called home as I was walking home.

Trouble ... but now how I thought. He was making noodles for us when I got home. At the dinner table I only saw three place settings. Normally this meant that Grandmother wasn't eating. But this was one of the times that Mother wasn't eating. In fact, I didn't see Mother all night.

What I did have was My Fucking Father being a prick again. He wanted to know if I filled out all the forms for his unnecessary trip to the Mayo Clinic. I haven't yet. "Do it tonight," he commanded. Sure I will. Dick.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -4). This was a very good week-plus (more on that later) for Minnesota/Twin Cities sports. For the second week in a row, every single team on the WMNSS won at least one game and won a game that was very important, as in either an upset or a victory for sentimental reasons.

Which one goes on top? It's really, really difficult this week. The top five teams went undefeated. The tiebreaker is all the other stuff surrounding it. And I'm going to put the Gopher men's hockey team first this week.

Why? Well, they swept St. Cloud St., not a bad team, in their home-and-home series this week. I saw their victory last (Saturday) night, where they finally broke a 2-2 tie with last-liner skater Sam Warning's goal with 79 seconds left in the game. It was sweet; Minnesota got an odd-man rush, a 3-on-2, and Jake Hansen passed it to Justin Holl, who bated the Husky defender on a straight-line deke and instead passed it to Warning on St. Cloud St. Goalie Ryan Faragher's left side. Warning had an open net and scored, sending the National Hockey Center in St. Cloud into apoplectic silence.

But that's not the only reason they top this week's survey. The Gophers are third in the country. Meanwhile, #1 UMD pissed away a four-goal lead and tied Michigan Tech Friday, then got blitzed by the Huskies 5-0 last (Saturday) night. And this was in Duluth! Also, #2 Boston University were swept by Maine. So not only does the U. have a commanding five-point lead on UMD in the WCHA, but there's a better-than-50/50 chance they'll be the top-ranked team in the country. That deserves at least a one-week reprieve from negative numbers, no?

Next week they have a tough series at Denver, which is third in the conference.

#-1: Swarm (Re-Entry!). The house reporter says that the team beat Buffalo in "dramatic" fashion. I don't think a 19-11 victory is dramatic at all; I don't remember ever seeing the team beat an opponent by that much.

Nevertheless, last (Saturday) night's home opener win was a first in some respects. It's only the third time the Swarm have beaten the Bandits. It's the first time they've beaten Buffalo at the X. And they hadn't scored 19 goals in a game since a match in 2007 against the now-defunct Chicago Shamrox.

The game was marked -- or marred, depending on how you look at it -- by a virtual line brawl with a second remaining in the first half. Four players on both sides were thrown out of the game. Man, I wish I had gone.

They play at Rochester Saturday.

#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). Swept MSU-Mankato in Mankato by a combined 10-4. They are solidly in second place in the WCHA, six points behind Wisconsin but a dozen ahead of third-place North Dakota. And with #2 Cornell losing at Clarkson 5-3 last (Saturday) night, they #3 U. will probably rise a spot and sit behind the Badgers in the national polls as well. And by the way, they have already played Wisconsin in home-and-home series, going 2-1-1. At St. Cloud St. for a pair next weekend.

#-3: Wild (Last Week: -6). Before today's (Sunday's) All-Star Game -- where no Mild player will be represented after Mikko Koivu pulled out due to injury -- the team ended the first half of the season with a 3-2 win at the Bastard Quebec Nordiques. If the season would have ended right now, everybody would be really surprised. No; the Mild would thank their goddamn stars because they would be the 8-seed in the Western Conference.

Unfortunately, the season is not done. After the break they resume play with three games this week: A home game against a dangerous Nashville team, then games against the Bastard Quebec Nordiques and The Team That Was Stolen From Us, The Bastard North Stars.

#-4: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: 0). This is kind of fluid; I'm writing this during the U.'s meet at Iowa. Even though Minnesota is ranked third and the Hawkeyes fifth, the Goofs are getting the shit kicked out of them 19-4. This would be a major buzzkill after roasting Wisconsin 37-3 and coming from behind to defeat #11 Michigan 23-15 this week, both at home. I don't know how badly they will suffer from what appears to be a certain loss and a possible rout.

I'll be honest when I say I'm putting this team behind all the other undefeated Twin Cities teams in part because of the partial result going on right now. But if I get done with this survey before it goes final, I will reuse that result in next week's WMNSS. Otherwise the team is off next week, for they next play (in their regular-season finale) next Sunday at home against Nebraska.

#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -1). Won their home games against Northwestern and Illnois, which was sandwiched around a 16-point loss at Michigan St.

I saw the end of the game against the Illini last (Saturday) night. They were down by three with five seconds left in the game when Austin Hollins drove to the hoop, threw the ball off the glass and in, and somehow drew a foul on Illinois' Chase (?) Leonard. He fouled out of the game even though he didn't commit a foul at all; poor guy was totally straight-up. Anyway, in a reversal of these two teams' meeting in Champaign earlier in the season (whose endgame I also watched while working out), it was the U. who was able to tie the game at the end of regulation and then pull away in extra time.

Even though it was at home, it was an important win against what should be a fellow bubble team. The Goofs are now 16-6 overall and 4-5 in-conference. If this team is able to hang around .500 in the Big Ten, the reputation of being the best conference in the land should -- could? -- buoy them into a conference birth, touch wood.

Only one game this week: At Iowa, and their hot-headed coach, Fran McCaffrey, Wednesday.

#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). Well, the big news off the court is the signing of Kevin Love to a long-term contract extension. The team gave KLove max money, and rightly so. But they wanted some flexibility in the long run to sign Ricky Rubio and maybe Derrick Williams in order to keep the important pieces of a potential championship squad in the future. To do that, they had to deny Love's wish to get a five-year contract. Instead, he signed a three-year contract with a player option in the fourth. So if Love decides the Two Elves are going in the wrong direction, he splits after three years. And if he suffers through three years of injury and ineffectiveness, we'll be saddle with paying him for a fourth year.

On the court: Well, they lost to Houston and Kevin McHale, which bothers me. This is the man who singlehandedly ran the franchise into the ground. And as they've been trying to pick up the pieces, he comes in with his new team, with players he didn't select (therefore it's a good team), and crushes them by 15. Doesn't seem fair.

But the Wolves come back with a 15-point win at lost Dallas and an eight-point victory at home Friday against very old San Antonio (a game I could have gone if I paid the ticket in conjunction with a job fair set up by Major League Soccer; I really should have gone, but I decided I wanted to see the series finale of Chuck instead), so they finish 2-1 this week with a chance to get to .500

tonight (Sunday night) against a very vulnerable Bastard Minneapolis Lakers squad.

I just a tweet by Timberwolves official Chris Wright imploring Twin Cities fans to come out and sell out the game tonight (Sunday night). There's 500 left. Sorry dude, but I speak only for myself and say that I will come to the game if I'm comped.

The game tonight (Sunday night) is the first of five this week. They visit Houston tomorrow, then finish the week versus Indiana, at New Jersey, and to Houston once again (three games against the Rockets in less than two weeks?!).

#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). They are the only team to be under .500 for the week. But they followed losses at Nebraska and home to Wisconsin (where Sports Illustrated illustrated the Badgers' offensive woes last week but yet beat the Goofs 78-72) today (Sunday afternoon) with a 76-65 win at Williams against #9 Ohio St. It's the first time the team has beaten a ranked team in almost three years, the first time they beat a ranked team at home in four years and five days, and the first time they have beaten a top-10 team in just over six years.

They finished .500 from the field, hit six-of-ten three-pointers, and missed only one of their 17 free throws. And Rachel Banham poured in 20 points in the upset. Wow. I mean, they're not getting into the NCAA Tournament because of the win (they're 4-5 in the B1G and 12-11 overall). But maybe the WNIT?

Only one game this screening week: At Illinois Thursday.

Oh, And Another Thing About Sleeping Too Early:

Apparently I'm sleeping so heavily that I sleep on my back, not on my side like I usually do. That helps because I don't wrench my neck because I always sleep on my side with it misaligned. But sleeping on my back puts a lot of pressure on my back, and when I wake up the arch on my back hurts a lot. It doesn't help when one of my "jobs" consists of lying very still on my back.

Man, am I so out of it I don't move at all? Scary, really. ...

Writer's Block

I have other things I want to write for SportsAlert, most notably two things that have something to do with 2011: Poor Bastards Of The Year and Sports Thing Of The Year. I should do that before we get into February. Yet I have to get this column about this report out of the way.

You may have heard about a special investigation about corruption within the Fiesta Bowl. The report came out almost a year ago. The Fiesta Bowl hosted the Mythical National Championship last January, and the bowl itself was played almost a month ago. This column isn't even timely anymore. And yet I feel I have to write it -- and write it before anything else. I can't do anything else until this gets done. And it's been a long, long time.

Fortunately I'm making progress. It's not a bad read, this Special Committee report that details everything that happened with the bowl. But it's a long one, and I want to make sure I read and understand everything before I summarize it for my essay. Trust me, the extent of opacity and lack of oversight will make any college football fan who wants a playoff roll his eyes.

Once this gets done -- in the next 72 hours, maybe? -- I can move on to other things. But not until then. Not at all.

Can't Pull Out

I've got to remember that when I'm going to "work" at the U. hearing lab in the heart of the afternoon, I have to park somewhere else than University Ave.

Why? Yesterday, I got out at 4. It took me 15 minutes to get to my car, so it's about a quarter to 4 when I get in my car. My plan was to immediately drive off. I was afraid that I would be stuck in the middle of afternoon rush, but for some reason I observed a couple clear patches of no traffic.

However, I got a voicemail, transcribed from Google, from Grandmother's nurse. We had been playing phone tag about finding a time for her to come in, but according to the text voicemail (Google has this service where voicemails are transcribed; the transcription is shit with indecipherable words and awful grammar, it's awful and I use it only because my regular voicemail is frequently full with Grandmother's panicked pleadings) she wanted to set up a time real soon. Apparently it couldn't wait.

So I called her back and told her that I'll run the time, Saturday morning, by Mother. (I wanted to get back to her later that day or evening this morning because I think this is a way to stall so that Grandmother won't be put away to a nursing home.) But I get her voicemail, so I leave a message. But then I hear my phone ringing; it's her. So I tell her on the voicemail that I'm ending the message because she's calling in and hit the button to answer her incoming call ... except that I hit the wrong button and send her to voicemail ... so I have to end the voicemail and call her back.

Then, all of a goddamn sudden, after I'm finally done talking to her, every goddamn car in the Twin Cities is lined up at the red light. Seriously, there is a solid line of vehicles in the lane right next to me. This lane feeds out to 35WN, which, obviously, is a very popular way to get home this time of day. I should have thought of that when I parked right to the side of it. But, three minutes beforehand, the coast was clear. Did the pattern of the traffic lights change at 4:15?

So before I could pull out at any time, now I had to wait. And wait. And fucking wait. Those clear stretches were around the time the traffic light in front of me turned red. Now they had cars lined up, so I had to turn on my signal and wait, the car equivalent of getting on my hands and knees begging to be let in. None of those fucking cars let me in, instead driving past me to make that left turn onto the highway. Fuckers.

I basically lost when I thought I saw a semi-clear space while the light was green and there were cars that were kind of close, but far enough that, in my increasingly-agitated state, I went for it. But there was a car in the lane or two over, and right when I was going to shoot the gap, that car darted into the lane and the space I needed to get into. It entered the lane right beside me; if I tried going in, I would've hit it.

And just as I was car-blocked, the light turned red. I put my foot on the brake and punched my horn. The passengers on the next car, a bunch of girls, looked at me like I was honking at them. I hate it when I lose my temper. But I really hate it when I can't fucking get into a lane for five minutes and after I thought I would be able to slide in like a dick into a lubed condom.

On the ensuing green a white SUV had mercy on me and let me in.

I have to park somewhere else from now on, for God's sake.

Expenses Without Receipt

I don't remember buying anything without a receipt. But I guess I did:

• On Friday, I went to the lab to "work." And Infusion of: $20.
• On Saturday night, I went to the roller derby bout. Got a beer. With tip: $7.50.
• Afterward I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition). Actually got two dances; I was being generous. Love you, Mariah and Elizabeth. With coffee -- did I get coffee? Man, I don't remember. Just to cover my ass I say I did. So, a total of: $50.
• And then ... uh, My Favorite Late-Night Place? Shit, I am bad at this. With tip: $13.50.
• Monday I made a very rare daylight trip to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) because The Store was -- gulp -- closed. Very quick less-than-30-minute visit. Tipped two babes: $4.
• Saw a movie on Tuesday. Accrued enough points to get a free small pop, but because I was so thirsty from the Buffalo Wild Wings I ate earlier that lunch, I decided to shell out an extra 50 cents to pay for the difference for the medium pop. All told: $10.
• I went out to a coffeeshop that evening. Coffee only, with tip: $1.75.
• On Wednesday I bought myself a Crunch bar at a vending machine at the U.: $1.
• Went to "work" at the lab after that. An infusion of: $20.

Turns out I bought a lot of stuff without a receipt. I think that is all.

Trying To Break This Nasty Sleeping-At-A-Decent-Hour Habit

For the past -- well, I really don't know, let's see; it's been going on since my last experiment where I was at the hospital all day, which was last week, but I know it had been going on since I started taking medication in anticipation for that hospital stay (and was part of the experiment), and that was about a dozen days ago ... certainly it didn't start before the New Year, when my problem was sleeping all day as a result of my night job ... crap, I'm going to take a guess and say -- three weeks, I have passed out much earlier than I usually do -- like midnight, 11, even 10 o'clock, and not my usual 5 or 6 in the morning.

I wake up around 8:30 all refreshed and shit. It bothers me, it really does. This is not natural for me. I don't like having the same sleep cycle as everybody else. I want to be different. Now that I'm up in the morning, I realize I have nothing to do. What could I do being up so early -- watch Kelly? Find -- gulp -- work?

I don't know why this is the case. I don't remember passing out at such a decent hour since ... well, since my brother and I were so young we slept in the same bed as Grandmother. We had to because we all were sleeping in the same place.

Why is this the case? Waking up early to take this medication (I had to take it in the morning and around the same time each day, and I made the mistake of taking it in the 6 o'clock hour, meaning I had to make the choice of either staying up till then or waking up early) has to be a factor. Not having any decent TV to watch as my favorite shows take the winter off before airing new episodes also has to be a factor. This shit about The Store and Grandmother being thrown out of the house has to be contributing to this. And maybe I do have Seasonal Affective Disorder; I usually am able to fight through my fatigue at night, but this time around I haven't.

Maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe that's the main reason I've crashed at night. All I know is I'm tired once I'm done with dinner, and since there's nothing on I feel my eyelids get heavy and I think, fuck it, I'm tired, and I turn off the light and close my eyes and, if this tiredness passes, I'll get up and turn on my laptop and finally start banging out this long treatise on the Fiesta Bowl corruption scandal for the website I "work" for. Next thing I know it's daylight. Hell, sometimes there is something on TV and I'm still tired and I just pass out. Like I said, I don't remember doing this before.

I thought that exercise would do the trick. But I tried that once, last week; after I got home I even made myself some cereal, but around midnight, bam! I was down for the count.

So I tried something different. Predicated on the fact that I really, really need to write this column, after dinner I went out to a coffeehouse to work till about 11:30. And when I got home I took a shower. That way I was too wet to immediately go to sleep. I was worried that I was so out of energy that I would just fall into bed anyway. But it's 2:35 in the morning right now, and I feel wide awake. Either this strategy worked or I have had so many consecutive days of having the proper amount of sleep (and at the "right" time) that my body has no need for rest right now.

If this keeps up, I'll be back on my normal schedule of going to bed at 5 and waking up at 1 in the afternoon in no time. Wish me luck.

While my parents were making dinner tonight, My Fucking Father's cellphone rang. Mother answered it. It was for My Fucking Father, who enthusiastically answered. It was someone named, if I recall correctly, "David!"

I don't know the details, but I think I overheard him saying something about selling something.

I think it's The Store.

I think My Fucking Father has just sold The Store.

My life, as I have always known it, is over.

They're About To Take My Grandmother Away, Ha-Ha!!!

Got the call as soon as I got home from having breakfast coffee yesterday morning: My Fucking Father has been feverishly calling every single nursing home in the area, and he finally succeeded: One close by has a space open, and he needed my help in giving the people there Grandmother's doctor's name and information.

Bad enough that My Fucking Father once again leaves me to do the detail work for him: "Oh, this isn't my job, you do this for me, son." I am now complicit in helping put away Grandmother. I should stall, but my further foot-dragging would only make both of my parents question why I'm not helping her ... which could -- could -- put my stay at home in jeopardy as well. So like a coward I called and gave the info. But only after hours, so as not to talk to her directly. That totally makes a difference.

The worst thing about all this is Grandmother doesn't suspect a thing. I don't know how to tell her, "They're about to send you to a nursing home away from here to die" in Chinese. All she did yesterday was eat and talk to her friends. She's harmless. Why send her away? Father called Grandmother up at home; he didn't tell her what's up, and she still doesn't know. Man, we are being so goddamn cruel to her right now.

---

My protestation came in the form of a meeping cry for help after half an hour of to-do list items for my parents. Mother came up and asked for the doctor information; man, they really want her to go, don't they?

Mother's words (paraphrasing; I've got bad memory) are in italics:

"If you want to throw her out of the house, why don't you throw her out of the house now?"

"Who's going to take care of her? You?"

"She's fine. Just because she's old doesn't mean she needs to go to a nursing home."

"It's a good place. There's 24/7 nurses there and everything."

"It's not home." (Here I bitched out and change the subject) "I haven't looked at this place yet."

"It's really nice. Much better than the one the nurse recommended."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

And there I dropped the conversation.

After decades of taking care of me, Grandmother deserves better.

---

Things are so fluid with this. The news is so bad, for Grandmother as well as (selfishly) me that I'm still trying to process this. Will keep you posted.

Me And My Folks

On Friday I told my folks that I would be doing stuff on Saturday. Now, this is a Friday. Not only have I done things with friends on the weekends because I'm, uh, human -- they have never liked me going out, but I've done it for so long I've kind of beat them into submission -- there was nothing going on on Saturday ... well, Chinese New Year's Eve was Sunday, and there was always a big dinner going on then (we seem to celebrate Eve more than Chinese New Year's Day, as if it's more important). I admit I'm not versed in all the traditions behind Chinese New Year's, so there could be something important to do Saturday, but I was never taught or told this by my parents.

Anyway, I tell both parents this is our small kitchen, and My Fucking Father immediately stops washing the dishes and looks at me in frustration. What, he was making plans? Plans he didn't tell me about -- like he usually doesn't???

So I angered the Old Man again, and once again I don't know for what. I could cancel; I wanted to hang out at the roller derby bout with my friend and her husband, but they're cool enough that if I need to cancel, they won't get bent out of shape. Contrast that to Father.

So I go, "What's wrong? Did you have something planned?" Father hesitated, like he wanted to say something.

"What? What is it? If there is something, I'll cancel. No problem!" I said -- no, insisted.

Then Mother, between us and working on some food, said, "No, not a problem. We are doing nothing."

I wasn't having any of this shit. I knew they had something planned for Saturday. "I don't believe you. What's going on?"

Mother said again, "Nothing," and Father muttered something under his breath before he went back to the dishes. I wanted to push the issue further -- I wanted to prove I could be a good Chinese boy! -- but as always, they turtle back into silence, probably springing their passive-aggressive revenge some other time when I least expect it. Well, if there are no plans for tomorrow, I'll just stick to mine of going with my friend to roller derby. After this minute-long standoff, I quit talking about the subject.

---

Yesterday was Chinese New Year's Eve. They made some noodles. Not like buying something, but it wasn't the elaborate pig and fish we had in Chinese New Year's Eves past. I still think they had something planned for Saturday because Mother works Sundays.

They're going to get me back.

---

I left my colored pens, the ones I use to track my days, at The Store, so I tried swinging by there to pick them up on Friday. They were closed. Where's Father?

---

Oh, and I haven't had to help him get anything for The Store in the past two weeks.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -1). They only played one meet this screening week, and there are many other teams that were good enough to take the top spot (in fact, all seven teams won at least one game this week). It's not that the opponent, unranked Purdue, was a worthy opponent. I am still impressed that the Gophers shut out the Boilermakers 40-0. This may occur with more frequency than I give it credit for. But it is the 24th time Minnesota has shut out an opponent since J Robinson became coach. And Robinson doesn't usually schedule cupcakes, like Jerry Kill and Tubby Smith do.

They'll continue to maraud through the Big Ten Conference this week against Wisconsin this (Sunday) afternoon and Michigan Friday. Added bonus: Both games are at home.

#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -4). Their first winning streak of the New Year? Are they turning the corner on their season? Well, actually, I still don't think so. Nevertheless, their one game this week, an 80-66 victory at Penn St., has lifted the Goofs out of the basement. Joe Coleman -- who? -- has been a revelation of late, and the local freshman scored a career-high 23 points in downing the Nittany Lions.

They have three games this week: home to Northwestern this (Sunday) afternoon, at Michigan St. Wednesday, then back home to face Illinois Saturday.

#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A sweep of Bemidji St., although the second game last (Saturday) night should not have gone to a shootout (which the team won) because they coughed up a 3-2 lead with 49 seconds left in regulation. I differ on where to place the program because of it; it is a win, but via shootout, so it's kind of not a win, you know? So, even though they did have an unbeaten week -- nothing none of the teams below this team can say -- it's not completely clean, and certainly not a 40-0 whitewashing like the U. grapplers had.

This team has to watch themselves; they play on the road the next three weekends, starting with a two-game series at MSU-Mankato.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). A 3-1 week, the last of those wins in dramatic fashion over the Clippers on Friday:

I think this is taken from a phone of a Clippers fan. That's why I chose it.

I've never seen Kevin Love so brash after a buzzer-beater. But I don't think I've ever seen Love hit a buzzer-beater. In any case, this cements him as a big-time NBA personality, even though his status as a Top 20 player may or may not have been established already.

So why in the fuck hasn't he signed his max extension yet? We all know what the numbers are going to be. We all know he's worth it. What's the holdup? The only reason I can think that he's balking at signing, like, yesterday is that he doesn't want to re-sign here. Which is bullshit; for the first time in a long time, everybody can see this team can be real good. Love is a cornerstone of that team. Why would he want to leave? He doesn't have to live here if he doesn't want to.

I am seeing a good spot for this team; beating opponents they should beat (Sacramento and Detroit earlier in the week) and having enough talent and a gameplan to steal a game against a team they shouldn't beat (the Clippers). Yes, they lost by 10 at Utah last (Saturday) night, but it was the second game of a back-to-back. This team is now 7-6. They're still last in the Northwest Division, but they're above .500!!!

A Texas three-step this week, although they host Houston and San Antonio inbetween a trip to Dallas and the defending NBA Champion Mavericks.

#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -3). Did you know that the Gopher men's hockey team is a perfect 10-0-0 on Saturdays? That continued last night when they matched Colorado College's 2-1 over the Goofs the previous night with a 2-1 win of their own. And they did it in come-from-behind fashion, too. The fourth-ranked program have now split their last three WCHA series. Could that continue next week against St. Cloud St., which will be different since they host the first game but travel to St. Cloud the second?

#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). I had very little idea Rachel Banham is considered to be the best player the program has had since the Whalen/McCarville years, but apparently it is so. The Freshman Point Guard played all 40 minutes in the 71-65 win over Michigan St. Thursday, scoring 16 points, getting six rebounds and notching three steals. She's like a female Ricky Rubio!

That win helps salve the close 61-57 defeat at Michigan last Sunday. I still don't know if this squad is going to a mount to a pillar of salt, but at 3-3 in the B1G, they're not a complete embarrassment. They have a Sunday-Thursday schedule for a second consecutive week: at ranked Nebraska playing the Cornhuskers as a conference opponent for the first time ever this (Sunday) evening, then home to Wisconsin Thursday night.

#-6: Wild (Last Week: -6). The freefall continues ... and yet I don't feel so bad.

Sure, they were throttled earlier this week on the road against Philadelphia and Toronto, scoring only one goal both games. But let's focus on the one win: A 5-2 shit-kicking of the Bastard North Stars, The Team That Was Stolen From Us! It's like a college football team: You can go 1-11, but if that one win was against your rival, it's a good year. And right now, I feel that way about the Mild sodomizing the Tin Stars. (They needed to; Saturday was Hockey Day In Minnesota, and earlier in the evening both the Minnesota men's and women's hockey teams won their games [even if the ladies won by shootout and it'll officially go down as a tie]. It would have been a bummer if the day ended with a loss, and to The Team That Was Stolen From Us.)

Oh yeah; the team that was the best in the NHL as of early December would now be out of the Stanley Cup Playoffs if they were to start today. Is next week All-Star weekend? They have only one game this screening week, at The Bastard Quebec Nordiques Tuesday on national television (well, NBC Sports Network, so cable).

... And, The Visit Went As Badly As I Feared

First of all, even though I was up after a 45-minute nap (which followed another night where I fell asleep in the evening and woke up late at night) and acted as if I was totally ready to see the assessment nurse at 7 a.m., Mother told me a bit later that she actually had to come in at 8. I had to drop off my piss at 9. Adding to that was the first significant snowfall of the winter. Sure, we only had between one and two inches, but because it fell during morning rush, this was the first snowfall we Minnesotans typically need to spin out into the ditches and remember that we really, really do need to slow down in spite of the fact that we are Minnesotans. In short, seeing my Grandmother get sent to the nursing home meant that I would be late.

Luckily, she got there at 7:50. Alright, time to stall and differ with Mother. As usual, My Fucking Father hid downstairs 'cause this "ain't his thing." (And he once yelled at me for not being more sociable. Fucking hypocrite.) And like I promised her, I went to Grandmother's bedroom to wake her up. Fortunately, she was already up; I guess she heard all the commotion outside. And in a sign that warms my heart, she asked, "Is that the nurse?" She remembered!

I help her outside so she could sit in on the assessment. But then Mother calls out from the dining room table: "She doesn't have to come out. She can go back to sleep."

Maybe Mother really was looking out for Grandmother's rest. But really, I think she didn't want her to stop her plans of asking the assessment nurse to put her away. I don't know what her presence there would stop, but at the very least she had the right to see her future closing in front of her face.

So I continue coaxing her out to the dining room. But Grandmother, in either her naivete or her infinite stupidity, wanted to follow Mother's order. "Go, I don't need to go," she said, "Mother's just talking. I'll be in my room."

It broke my heart. Does she understand that Mother's deciding her future without her, one that is going to remove her from the only home she's known for 30-plus years?

I stared at her; I didn't know what to say, mostly because I didn't know how to say, "But Mother's going to send you to a nursing home if you don't say something!!!" in Chinese. But Grandmother kept repeating herself: "Go, I don't need to go. Mother's just talking. I'll be in my room."

I felt absolutely dejected. Before taking my nap I tried mapping out all the scenarios, including the worst-case ones. But never did I think that she would just let things happen without even being there.

It broke my heart, but I guess Grandmother saw this and compromised. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, and then I'll come out," she said. Well, at least she'll be present to defend herself.

Unfortunately, from the point she did sit in with us to the time she left, she really didn't understand what was going on. Mother did her usual, "Oh, she's so crazy, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!" bullshit that so pisses me off. I mean, it helps if it gets me more hours, but now that I know her true intention is to send Grandmother away, she's no longer working in my interest. I guess that was the fine line I had to walk.

Mother's phone correspondence with the nurse meant that the nurse brought out another list of homes; that's the proactivity I was afraid of. Mother mentioned that she had already called three nursing homes and all of them were booked. The best nursing home in town apparently has a five-year waiting list. Actually, I wanted to say that it would be smart to put Grandmother on the list now, but that would mean I'm aiding and abetting Mother's cause.

I am her PCA, therefore I think I know what's best for her. The only time I tried to derail Mother's narrow-as-a-missile mission to put Grandmother away was when I raised the possibility of adult day care. It is as infantile and shameful as it sounds; Grandmother gets picked up for the day and taken to a place where she could have playdates with other old people who otherwise have nothing to do and then are picked back up at the end of the day and dropped back home. Mother shot that down instantly. Why? I think it shows that she is hellbent on getting her out of her, regardless of whether she needs to or not. And as batty as she is and as frustrating as she can be to deal with, I don't see the need.

Now, adult day care, maybe (and I feel really bad attending to my needs and not helping her, at the very least, get out and just, I don't know, do stuff), but assisted living? She'd die in there. New environment, people she doesn't know, most of them can't speak her native tongue, condescending activities like painting and drawing just because it's something to do ... she'd just shut down. But that's what Mother wants for her. And Mother knows best, right? RIGHT??

The best I could do is to tell the truth: Her short-term memory is really going, she fell once, she has wandered off a couple times, she's getting more disoriented, and she has bitched about missing her checkbook for months now. Other than that, she's fine. Grandmother's annoying, but isn't harming either herself or others or the house. Yet. Till then, why worry?

I said as much when I called her late in the workday Friday, that she has had her moments of paranoia, hyperactivity and neediness (especially with her goddamn checkbooks, which she once again complained she doesn't have today -- Grandmother, don't make me agree with Mother). But I'm not the guardian. Mother is. Grandmother's good as gone. And I am powerless to stop it.

No Gameplan To Save Grandmother

So the assessment nurse is coming in about four hours -- I should be asleep!!! -- to see how Grandmother is doing. Mother will be there, because she has to, and she will be hellbent on putting her in a home.

This meeting in four hours has been on my mind since she told me a couple days ago. I'm trying to figure out a way to get through this assessment without any undue incident -- in other words, without plans to put her away in motion.

As I've said before, my reasons are twofold. I have to admit that taking care of her as her Personal Care Assistant provides me income, money that I need to survive. As soon as she goes into assisted living, that's gone. But, and I truly mean this, we would both be lonely if she leaves. I don't think she would fare well in an environment different from the one she has lived in for the past, oh, 30 years. For the exact same reason, so would I, and it would be exacerbated without the person who helped raise me all these years.

It's balanced, however, by the fact that Grandmother can be absolutely fucking annoying at times. She did not help her case when she went out on Wednesday and bought so much food that it has filled up the bottom of the upstairs refrigerator. Again, this is food that none of us will eat and will thus have to be thrown away. Again, my parents have said to not buy so much food. But Grandmother does it anyway. Now, it might not be a sign of senility; the other nurse, the one that drops by bi-monthly, says that old people do this as a way of proving they're still vital and productive in the house. But she once again has pissed off my parents, and it's hard to defend her when she at the very least didn't listen to what they said.

Moreover, usually in these annual assessments, it's Mother who takes the lead. I never did like the way she orchestrated things, but now that she's going to ask the nurse to put her in a home, I really regret not ever asserting myself during past assessments. What could I do to stop this without looking like I have an agenda?

I guess I could tell the truth, or at least the way I see things. I could say that she has left the sink on in the past, but she hasn't flooded the house since the summer. She had left food in the toaster oven and the stove on, but Father put a stop to that by taking away the toaster oven plug and turning the stove off (somehow; how did he do that?). She has this thing where she buys food that goes to waste, but is that reason enough for her to be thrown into a nursing home with a bunch of strangers, a few of them crazy enough to do her harm? I don't think so.

Yes, she is annoying, and she is getting to be a little old. But maybe she has nothing to do. I should get her to the mall once in a while -- just to get her out of the house, get her something to do, make her exercise so that her mind's right and she's too exhausted to do anything around the house that does not need to be done. Maybe I could take her to the casino when her government money comes in on the 1st. That way she could have fun while using money in a way that won't anger my parents. And then she can stay!

I thought that negotiating the meeting -- which is now going to be in three hours -- is walking a fine line, but I don't think I have a line at all. A gameplan for me to save Grandmother involves contradicting Mother. Now, I have told the assessment nurse what is actually happening at home, that my parents basically want her to leave because she bugs the shit out of them. But that would mean contradicting Mother. Not only do I risk incurring the wrath of someone who, right now, is bringing home the bacon in the house I currently live in, I don't know what kind of tableau a warring family would make in the nurse's eyes. In any case, I can't see how it'd be a good thing.

And there are a bunch of other variables, too. What if the nurse reveals to Mother what I told her over the phone? The shit really hits the fan then. I lost the nursing home list the nurse gave me; what if the nurse or Mother start yelling at me over that? That means more calls to clean my room, and that is the last fucking chore I give a shit about, especially right now. And what if Grandmother says to the question of whether she wants to go to a nursing home with, "I don't care?" I could totally see that, her being so damn wishy-washy. If she says that, then what happens? And on top of all that, what happens if Grandmother really does need to be in a nursing home, not now but soon? What's the protocol for that??

(Complicating all this is the fact that in this meeting, the guardian, in this case Mother, acts not only as Grandmother's "advocate" but also her translator. She already doesn't exactly have Grandmother's best interests in mind, but now she is also able to twist her words to fit what she wants the nurse to hear. And I can't stop her, not only because I have to tread carefully when I cross her but I also probably won't understand what they're saying in the first place.)

The one way out of all this is Mother's insouciance and incompetence. If all she says is that she wishes Grandmother goes to a nursing home and then asks the nurse's help to do all the work, then I can see a case where the nurse will not do anything because she doesn't believe she should be handling the whole thing by herself and Mother being too busy to look for homes. That would mean I would have to help Mother out, but then I could just start dragging my feet. However, any proactivity from either of them means the dominos start falling, and another big change -- one that strikes the heart of the home I need to feel secure in -- comes crashing down on me.

No wonder I need to masturbate now.

Expenses Without Receipts

• Starting on Friday, I believe -- I believe -- I followed up lunch at McDonald's (for which I have a receipt) by going across a hall at the U. to pick up some experiment contact info tags, passing by some vending machines, deciding I was still hungry, and getting a Twix: $1.25 (I think).
• That night, after working out, I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). One of the four girls there, one I'm facebook friends with, left abruptly before I could give her a tip stageside. Oh well. Tips for the other babes and coffee: $8.
• Then I went to My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Division). Mocha again. With tip: $5.25.
• On Sunday I went to the library to make a copy of a receipt as part of a rebate form that is incomplete: 10 cents.
• On Monday I found more "work" at another experiment at the U. For three hours: $30.
• On Tuesday I helped ferry Father to the eye doctor downtown and then to The Store. As he usually does, he throws money at me so he could pay, in this case for downtown parking, then tells me to keep it. That's nine bucks total there. Later, at The Store, he saw me go through my receipts. He said why do I have so many. To cover my ass, I show him one; luckily, it was for a 3-way switch he wanted me to get for him from Home Depot. And then he paid me back by giving me a $20, even though it cost me only $5. All told, this was a Daddy infusion of: $29.
• On Thursday, I went to a diner for some mid-morning breakfast. With tip: $12.50.
• Might as well do this now: I have this thing where I store shiny new coins. I saw several new dimes, nickels and pennies. Total: 30 cents.

That's it for now, I hope.

Edited to add that on this Tuesday (the 17th) I went to the gym. Since I was beyond my buy-two-months-get-three-free deal, I had to pay: $3.

Fell asleep at a decent hour again. Turned off the TV at 12:30. Woke up at 5:30.

I need to stop doing this. I have Priceline bids I need to make on my trip next month. I have columns I need to write. I have to plot a way to keep Grandmother in this house.

I must have Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I had done my best to avoid talking to the assessment nurse about planning a visit for her to see Grandmother. When she left me a voicemail, I left her a voicemail ... after business hours. And when I didn't hear back, I planned on doing it again ... later this week.

Unbeknownst to me, she apparently was speaking to Mother.

She's coming over to see Mother, Grandmother and me this Friday morning.

The walls are really starting to close in on Grandmother now.

My Black Hole Of Dick Fur

I think sufficient time has passed for me to finally blog about it. Besides, with so much shit going on in my life, I want something I can talk about that makes me happy: Sexual favors.

This is back in November, I think. My go-to ATF girl -- I'm going to try something new and just call her *****e -- said she was doing another party, another one hosted by the girl whose party I was late to the previous month. I was determined to make this one, however, because it was different; namely, this was being held at a hotel instead of the host's home. Apparently there was enough complaining that the host's daughter coming back home from the babysitter (who was, I guess, in the same condo complex) was ruining the mood of the party that it was taken to a completely different site. I was one of those people, and shit, if she wants to barge in on me taking a wank from *****e, I didn't really give a fuck anymore. She'll learn about the birds and the bees at some point.

But it was going to be at this hotel, and it was a lot closer than the host's condo, plus the "party" came together last-minute because it was supposed to be the day before but got pushed back. All that, plus the fact that I was going to deploy my strategy of swooping in at the last minute, made me think I would have a good chance of "getting a dance" from *****e one-on-one -- and, because I'm a dreamer, get some hanky-panky from the others, too.

After working out I flew down the highway to the suite, which is just west of downtown. I find myself lost in this desolate empire of townhouses, so I call *****e to come get me. It was really cold, so I step into one of these complexes. It must be weird seeing someone going into a hotel and waiting for someone; don't the people who usually go to these things immediately go up into a hotel? That's what they're there for, right?

I saw a worker at the lobby. I pulled my lips together. That's how I say hello without saying a word. That's well-known body language, right? What must he be thinking I was up to? Hope I never see him again, but it is a small town.

Across the parking lot and into the foyer of the next complex I see this blonde jump down the stairs. Ah, the girl who's about to service me! I ignore the text she send and make eye contact with her. I cross over, hug, and bound up the stairs. I wanted to take myself out right then and there, but there probably were cameras.

I like hotels; at the very least they give the appearance of cleanliness, and they look pretty. The suite the sex party was in had an orange or pink theme, but it was very well appointed. It reminded me of the suite I had in Dallas when I was down there for a minor league baseball job fair and decided to make a week of it. For dirt cheap on Priceline I had a bedroom, a big bathroom, a separate living room and a door that separated it from the bedroom. Here, the living room (and kitchen) connected to two bedrooms as well as the bathroom. Nice setup.

Also, since this was just before Thanksgiving, there was a spread of food. Nothing like food at a party, but honestly, I was there for just one thing. Food was good, though.

---

The good news was, because of the late shift in day, not many people showed up. In fact, I was the only guy there. I would usually be in heaven with that, having three girls all to myself. But then I started to hesitate. The two other girls there besides *****e are sisters, supposedly. One of them is a brunette whom I've never really spoken to. My first impression of her was when I visited the host's home (maybe they share the apartment, I don't know) and she commented that my pants were riding too low. That would be hot, but she said it like a petulant schoolgirl. It didn't help matters that later in the evening I accidentally went into one of the bedrooms which was supposedly hers and therefore off-limits. She yelled at me to leave. Well. ...

The other is the host, *a***, a big-titted blonde who used to work at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). I could not help but notice all night that I could see her nipples through her t-shirt. I totally wanted to grab them and pinch them, or even better, forcibly lift up her shirt so I could look, feel, and bite the goods. Goddamn, protruding nips. ...

I would totally get naked in front of her, but there is one unique problem: She has a boyfriend I kind of know. He used to bartend at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version), and he was a really nice guy. To move in on her like that ... all I could see is his face, disapproving. Maybe I'd get over it if she's freaky and sucked dick, like *****e says. But I was too chicken to do anything.

Well, anything besides keep my fly open after I used the bathroom. I've told you guys about my main set of porno pants, the green ones. I have a second set, brown ones, that aren't as comfortable, and the fly isn't as big. But as the old ones are fraying (and as I'm searching frantically for pants like this, which seemed to have fucking disappeared from Earth!), I've come to rely on the brown back-ups more and more.

I didn't plan on it, but when I opened myself up to pee, then buttoned just the top button, the fly opening stayed open. I didn't really notice; I was just trying to get a sexual rise out of myself and the other girls there. As *****e was doing stuff and the other sister retreated into her bedroom, I began to talk to *a*** about, oh, how her daughter was doing in school. I just happened to look down ... and saw that I could see my mound of pubic hair protruding out. It reflected in the light emanating from the lampshade.

When I looked back up, *a***, leaning against the kitchen counter, couldn't help but look down at what I was looking at. At that point, her taking a quick peek, was such a fucking turn-on. I could feel the blood rushing into my penis. I wanted to take it out and show her how she made me feel with that look, but ... her boyfriend again. Not just the image of a man, but knowing this guy and putting the moves on his girl, just ... no. That's why I have to reassess whether I want to go this particular party. It sucks, but I just don't feel right if I have to blunt these urges.

My conversation with *a*** moved to the living room couches, where a mid-major college football game was on. The other sister retreated into her room, sick. But *****e was finally ready -- I don't know, getting her wipes ready or something.

She sidled up to me and possibly put her right arm around my left arm. Then she looked down and also saw My Black Hole Of Dick Fur. And then my penis grew again. Goddamn, I live for those moments.

I could tell that the corners of her mouth pricked up juuuuuust a little. *****e looked at *a***, either in embarrassment or bemusement. I did get the message across to *a*** what I was there for, and it's possible she finally learned what *****e was willing to do -- if she didn't know already. Either way, that too was hot.

---

Off we went into the spare bedroom. Once she locked the door, she proceeded to quickly take her top off. I was getting into some small talk, but turned around and already saw that she had lifted up her shirt just enough that her tittays came free. I think I pinched her nipples, then I think I quickly pulled down her pants to reveal her sweet torso, shaved pussy included.

I wanted her to strip me; I think being unclothed by another is so sexy. But she, uh, didn't, so instead I took off my shirt. But I insisted on keeping my porno pants on, so she knew that that was part of her (hand)job!

She ordered me on the bed. She straddled me, totally naked. We made some conversation, and then the best part: She untied my pants and unbuttoned my fly (which I buttoned to make heighten the foreplay), then she reached in and reoriented my dick, which was dangling towards my legs. It was, unfortunately, soft, but *****e did all she could to make it hard, wanking me repeatedly, then forcefully.

At the risk of exposing my shortcomings, I was not erect the whole time she masturbated me. In sexual situations like this I rarely am. Performance anxiety, I guess. It wasn't her fault, not at all. But like in situations past, at some point during her stroking she told me we needed to "hurry up." Man, don't put my cock on a clock. We did take a lot of time, so much that I'm sure she has carpal tunnel syndrome. We switched positions, she turned off the lights, *****e even complimented me that she now thinks Asians are sexy. (I did all this for you, guys.)

Finally, the position that worked was a final warning from *****e and me standing up to be serviced while she sat down. At this point it wasn't pleasurable; it felt more like work. But she finally succeeded in priming my pump. My mewling cries -- which sound like a girl's, believe it or not -- made her anticipate my cumming.

When I came the first time, *****e sprang out of bed. Aw, she did that the last time! Why can't I spew onto her leg, like I did the first time we did this? Instead, she went to the closet. While I was furtively spurting semen (when more hand lovin' would have made it shoot out of a cannon; I know I could have done it, but didn't I pay her for the privilege?), she told me to cover it up with the comforter. I feel for the maid who discovered that.

Hundred bucks (plus five for the food spread) and that was that. I escorted her out after she told some weird story about another stripper we both knew being a pimp (???). I walked her to her car, and she gave me a kiss on the lips good night.

I want to see her again.

The Death Of Another Soap Opera Means The Death Of A Soap Opera Column

And then there were four. One Life To Live aired its last episode Friday, leaving four soaps still on the air.

And because there are only four, the weekly "Soap Opera Digest" column that is currently penned by Dana Block of North America Syndicate, Inc., will also shut down.

This is her last column, running today. Commemorate it.

Death causing death, people losing their jobs. I hate this. It's bad.

Bitch, You Wanna Be Facebook Friends With Me?!?!?!

A couple days ago this cunt from high school made a request on my facebook. I was never friends with this woman. There are three things I remember from this woman:

• Her boyfriend at the time bullied me. And he wasn't even a teasing bully. When he insulted me, he said it with this scowl on my face like he wanted me to try and punch him so he could kill me. I don't even know that son-of-a-bitch's name and I still want to kill him.
• The entire class had to take this weekend trip to a camp in Wisconsin. This camp practiced and tried to preach conservation. One of the things they did to "teach" us during this camp (and to think we kids could be taught while camping, hah!) was to set a goal of wasting food when we ate. It was a ridiculously small amount, like, five pounds. Well, our first dinner that night we went over this limit. The leader of the campground was visibly, if laughably (in that treehugger kind of way) upset. But the person who threw away the most food, by far, was this stupid girl. And she tried to defend herself; I think she screamed, "Well, I didn't know!" to everyone within earshot.
• She was a bad memory till about a year ago, when I saw her goddamn name and face on facebook. She's friends with a friend of mine (I've reevaluated our relationship because of that and decided to let it slide), so I was able to see a comment she made regarding her belief that marriage is between a man and a woman. Oh, she's gotten all religious now, huh? A couple other classmates shouted her down. In a separate conversation, one of them called her a "judgmental bitch." That sounds right.

And she friended me??? Why? Seriously, I don't get it. I can't even see from her perspective why she would want to be friends with me. We hated each other. Well, I hated her, at least.

This reminds me of another high school person who friended me. He used to be a friend, but he decided to be friends with the people who bullied me. He also participated in an NBA playoff pool where he never paid his ante. It's been so long, so I just say he owes me, oh, $30.

So when this fucker friends me, I have absolutely no intention of letting bygones be bygones. I go, "Hey, you owe me $30." So he goes, "When?" And I remind him of the NBA playoff pool. So he then says, "Yeah, I would do that." But I persisted: "Well, can you pay me back?"

And then ... nothing. I sent him another message, telling him he can repay me by check or through Paypal. Next thing I know, he withdrew his friend request. Cheap welching bastard.

I should have sent a message to this bitch saying, "Cunt, I wouldn't be friends with you with we were the last two goddamn people on Earth. I hope you drop dead, I hope your husband drops dead, and I hope your kids drop dead." But I don't need that reputation.

Why isn't there a "No" button? I get either "Accept" or "Not Now." Zuckerberg, don't beat around the bush. There are people who don't want to accept friend requests and don't mind saying that to the requester. But I had to go to "Not Now." Maybe she'll get the hint.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher wrestling (Re-Entry!). These guys actually returned to the mat New Year's Day, but that was part of a tournament called the Southern Scuffle in Chattanooga, Tenn. and not a dual meet. I don't know how to quantify that for the survey. I mean, with so many teams, only one of them is going to win, so is it fair to ding the U. if they don't finish first?

And by the way, they didn't; they finished second behind Penn St., which, surprisingly, they defeated 23-14 at State College to begin Big Ten play way back on Nov. 20. Are they slipping?

They are going through the runts of the conference, whipping Ohio St. at Williams Arena Sunday, then holding Illinois to only nine points in Champaign Friday. And they'll probably destroy Purdue in West Lafayette this (Sunday) afternoon. This is all a prelude to the B1G and NCAA Championships.

#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). They did reclaim the top spot in the polls after splitting with Wisconsin the previous weekend. They may lose it after losing at UMD Friday 4-2. They did make it up with a 3-0 shutout last (Saturday) night. But Cornell swept their two-game series at home to Quinnipiac, and the Badgers crushed North Dakota in Grand Forks Saturday 8-2 (with a Sunday afternoon tilt to complete the two-fer). The Bulldogs are ranked in the top ten, so they could retain the top spot.

Next up is a series against Bemidji St. at Ridder Arena.

#-3: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -4). They also split their series, at North Dakota, losing the first (in deflating fashion, by the way, as they squandered a lead and then lost late in regulation) before storming back last (Saturday) night and dick-smacking the soon-to-be-ex-Fighting Sioux 6-2 in what is supposed to be the last game these two teams play in Grand Forks, N.D. as members of the same conference. I the resounding rebound result, but I put them behind the lady icers because 1) the U. women lost to a higher-ranked team and 2) the U. men aren't the #1-ranked team in the country.

Taking a step back, the team is 12-4-0 in the conference and 16-8-1 overall -- in much better shape than last year. Barring a complete collapse -- touch wood -- they're back in the NCAAs for the first time in three years. Next week: a home two-fer against Colorado College.

#-4: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -6). I really, really doubt that their historic upset at Indiana Thursday -- the biggest win Tubby Smith has had at the U. -- changes the downward spiral this team is in. They lost at home to Purdue by 13, and I hear it wasn't even that close. But damn, what a win. The, what, 8th- or 10th-ranked team in the country -- and on the road?!?!?! That was a pressure cooker win right there. I still don't know how they did it. This (Sunday) afternoon they're at Penn St. Another winnable game.

#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). In previous seasons a friend of mine who works at Target Center would get complimentary tickets from his bosses. Since he needs to work, usually he would give it to me and another one of our friends. They sucked, but hey, it was a cheap night out.

No more, I'm guessing (sadface). They finished 2-3 this screening week, but it was a fun 2-3, crushing Washington and beating New Orleans, both on the road. They blew an 18-point lead and lost 83-81 at Atlanta last (Saturday) night, however. Ups and downs are acceptable for a team which, finally, seems to be looking up.

I noticed something after I heard that in a game this week, Rick Adelman benched Darko Milicic, Wesley Johnson and Wayne Ellington after the first quarter and never used them again. Rotations are the starting 5 is still a work in progress. Curious, I went to 82games and looked up the sabermetrics of all the five-man combinaions Adelman has trotted out. The most-used one, where Luke Ridnour's the point, Johnson's the wing, Michael Beasley is the 3, Kevin Love is the Power Forward and Donnie Darko is the pivot (and it's not even close), gives up 12 more points than it scores, and it has a record of 1-6. I think Adelman knows that's not good.

What shows promise is the #8 combination, where J.J. Barea runs things, Ricky Rubio is the 2, Anthony Tolliver (of all people) is the Small Forward, Derek Williams helps down in the blocks and Love's the Center. Note that you don't see Milicic, Johnson or Ellington. They have a +16 and have a 3-1 record. This proves that Beasley, an inefficient ballhog, has to be traded or at least benched for the good of the team. This also proves, unfortunately, that Johnson was not worth the third(?) pick of the draft a couple years ago. And Ellington, well, there's always Europe. Adelman has to know that Love, Rubio and Williams is the future of this team, a bright future.

This week: Sacramento and Detroit at home, then at the Clippers and Utah.

#-6: Wild (Last Week: -5). Even with one win this week (a bastard shootout kind at home to San Jose where they pissed away a two-goal lead very late in the third period), they have lost 12 of their last 14 and are holding on for dear life to the last Western Conference playoff spot. A 5-2 drubbing at Chicago which prompts General Manager Chuck Fletcher to rip the veterans a new one shows how bad things are going right now. A quasi-bag skate from Head Coach Mike Yeo before last (Saturday) night's game at St. Louis didn't help, either; they lost in a shootout 3-2.

This is totally not the team it was in early December. This week they complete their four-game road trip at Philadelphia and Toronto before ... oh my fucking God, The Team That Was Stolen From Us, The Bastard North Stars, come to town for the first time on Saturday.

#-7: Swarm (Re-Entry!). Hey, indoor lacrosse is back! And hey, the Smarm lost their season opener last (Saturday) night in Colorado, 20-14!

ILIndoor.com is slowly unveiling its Top 35 players in the National Lacrosse League. Forwards Callum Crawford (21) and last year's league scoring champ, Ryan Benesch (13) are featured. They also featured in the loss to the Mammoth; Crawford had four goals and five assists while Benesch had three goals and four assists.

ILIndoor also has a preview column. Although they were one-and-done in the NLL playoffs, the staff has picked the Smarm to be the worst team in the league!!! Rebuilding for the future, they all say. How can they be rebuilding when 1) they have the reigning scoring champ; 2) they have a pretty good veteran Goaltender in Nick Patterson; and 3) there are only nine teams (now that the Boston Blazers have gone belly-up)? If this is true, and they're the only team of the nine that won't make the postseason -- gosh, I fear for the health of the franchise.

Don't know why, but they have two weeks off until their home opener against Buffalo.

#-8: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -1). From the suite to the street, sistas. They just lost their only game this week, but it was a pretty bad one, a 17-point loss at home to, coincidentally, 17th-ranked Purdue.

What can I say? They've been swept by a pretty good Boilermakers team. They are now 2-2 in the B1G and 10-8 overall. I hope Pam Borton's players are going to class and being good role models. At Michigan this (Sunday) afternoon, then home to Michigan St. this Thursday.

The Great Computer Protection Software Swindle

My Fucking Father has some cockamamie ideas. He's a dreamer (it's where I get it from), so he often tells me to do things that make no sense and/or abandons far-fetched ideas that I knew would go nowhere. It is a chronic sorespot in our relationship: Making me do things I know don't work. This is one of those times.

It was after a dinner and I was either tired or occupied with watching TV or something when My Fucking Father called me downstairs to the computer room. He wanted me to help him order online some software. I don't think he wanted to buy it for that. The software cost $59.99, but the rebate would total $60. So My Father wanted this product because he would make a penny.

Not only did I think that was stupid, I was beside myself that Father would cream his pants over some antivirus software. So I rolled my eyes and sighed as I ordered it for him.

It was bullshit, all the way. My parents usually never pass up a buck, so if there's a rebate, they usually take it -- and I always help them fill it out. It's a pain in the ass, but I do it because hey, free money.

When I type it that way, I have no idea why I didn't even give this rebate a second thought. Partly it's because of the software, which is totally unnecessary. Partly it's because I usually stay away from helping My Fucking Father. And partly because I was busy working and dealing with my feelings over The Store and worrying over Grandmother's health and blah, blah, blah. So when the product came I didn't give it a second thought. I thought to myself, This is his stupid fucking thing, I don't care.

Tonight, while watching the 49ers-Saints game (what a fucking game, huh?), Father calls. "Did you put in the deck yet?" And I go, The deck? Oh, you're trying to say the disk.

"Yeah. We might have to return it if we're too late for the rebate. Check it out."

Oh, shit. There is an expiration date, isn't there? It's been so long since I helped him purchase it, I didn't even remember the month. And when I saw the date and the 30-day restriction, I was fucked. I needed to turn in the fucking rebate -- or return it -- before the New Year.

I tried calling Frys. Anna said it was too late for both the rebate and the return. I threw myself at her mercy. She still said no. Thanks for giving me mercy, bitch.

Do I take the chance of returning it? I mean, there's no real reason we're putting in the software. If we return it, My Fucking Father isn't going to go, "Hey, where's that antivirus software I ordered?" But if I just take the box he's going to know I returned it and he'll yell at me for not installing it in time. I had no choice but to keep it and install it.

But then I looked at the fine print, which, on the form I would have had to mail back (and I will still mail back, just in case) was really in fine print. Then I realized how much of a ripoff this rebate process really is.

I have to send the form as well as the UPC and a copy of the receipt. But to get the full rebate, I have to show that I am replacing another protection software from several specific companies. Furthermore, since they require some proof of purchase by this software being replaced, this rebate is only for antivirus programs that was installed on the computer independently. As far as I know, either Mother purchased the desktop I'm installing this new software on when she bought it, or I downloaded it. Either way, I don't have this proof of previous software.

One final thing: I need to send back the sale receipt. I'm looking all through the box and the packaging. What sale receipt? Where is this goddamn sale receipt? How can this rebate form be complete if you won't give me the stuff I need to send you?

I guess I should have read up on the description before buying this thing for My Father. But this reminds me of the software agreement windows you see on your computer, those long lists of rules and restrictions that you have to agree to in order for it to go through, so you just hit "I Agree" without reading a single word ... and then they don't work. This rebate crap, which I think is being manipulated, is the same murky, underhanded computer shenanigans we are all forced to trust even though we don't understand them because we can't use an essential part of our lives, our computer devices, without them. We get a bad feeling we're walking into something we don't comprehend because they're being created by IT geeks that probably delight in fucking us over. And because of these gotcha rules, My Fucking Father is out $60.

And right now I have an incomplete rebate to return. And I'm going to go through with it because ... well, I need to do something, even if it's too late. I really want to say, Fuck this, I don't care, this is just more bullshit from My Fucking Father. But I know I'll wake up tomorrow and I'll be so fucking sick for dropping the ball and totally ignoring the software. And I will feel so guilty that I'll make sure I pay the $59.99 that won't be rebated, even though the requirements are so onerous, tricky and unfair that getting the penny income from Frys is just about impossible.

Fuck my life.

ETA that I should be more specific about what I hate about what I did. I really don't have a sales receipt. And I don't have any "stand-alone" antivirus software I need to complete this rebate. That's cheating, so I'm not feeling guilty over that. However, I could have sent it back for a full refund for My Father. I can't do that -- despite my pleadings to this Anna, or "Anna" -- because I was too late. That I'll feel sick over. I feel sick about it now.

The Walls Are Closing In On Grandmother, And Thus Me

Last night, while My Father was putting this prescription topical cream on the back of my neck because it has this acne, he told me that if I find the list of nursing homes the county assessment nurse sent to me some time back, to give it to Mother.

Are they really moving on this? Ever after he forbade me to go into Grandmother's room, she's been OK. She's had her moments, but she's not batshit crazy. And as I've said before, he has turned off anything that could destroy the house. The main reason he (and I guess Mother) wants to put her in a home is because she annoys the fuck out of him -- I think.

I need to stall. I thought returning the nurse's call today would do it. But I got a message saying that the call could not be completed. Apparently the county did the work for me.

It'll work -- for now.

Expenses Without Receipt

• Monday, for the first time in a long time, I was back at the U. hearing lab. Same infusion of money, though: $20.
• Later that night, a surprise non-holiday trip to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division -- though without cover this night because I had a coupon.) Surprisingly, no waitress hounded me for a single drink. I was able to get a dozen dances with my Claudia, as well as tip her (and tip her only). I also tipped the bouncers on my way out, but I found a dollar inbetween the cushions of the chair I sat on tip side. So that cancels out, which means I gave all my money to Claudia, all: $126.
• Tuesday morning I was working at the MRI machine. I have to stuff my clothes and things in cubbie lockers because I can't go in the tube with any metal on. Well, when I was stuffing my clothes in one of them (I use one for my overcoat and one for the contents of my pockets) I saw a quarter. INFUSION: 25 cents.
• Before leaving for The Store I got a call from the extras place. Turns out they did hire me, but I didn't reply to the e-mail. I thought I wasn't hired, so I needed to check -- quickly. But I didn't have my laptop on me. So I went to the nearest library at the U. Had to pay street parking for it, however: 25 cents. (Wow, the same amount I found in the cubbie hole ... which is like giving the bouncers the tip I found in the chair at the stripclub. What goes around comes around, or things always even out at the end, or some other aphorism.)
• Turns out going to the library early was the right choice because I replied to the extras e-mail just in time, I believe. I worked late that evening and my wagers were: $20.
• Thursday, before the lab, I treated myself to Chipotle. With tip: $9.
• The lab, of course. INFUSION: $20.
• I then deposited money into my checking account -- not just the checks I received from my jobs, but the money I took out before going to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division). Had too much money, so I took out of my wallet to add to the deposit: $40.

I think that's good enough for now.

I was afraid it was comin', but it still blindsided me today. After realizing that, for reasons sentimental and otherwise, I want Grandmother to stay, I suffered a 1-2 punch. First, the nurse voicemailed me that she needed to come in and reassess her ... unless we were going to put her in a nursing home. Later, at The Store, Father wanted me to call the number of a home he's planning to shove her into. He actually wanted to visit the place early tomorrow morning, but luckily the people who could show us around, according to my voicemail, wouldn't be free till later in the morning. That, and I didn't even turn on my phone after the end of the business day.

Nor did I return the nurse's call. I need to stall. But how? Grandmother's not demented, she's just a little stir-crazy with nothing to do. And Father shut off all the things that she could destroy the house with. Why can't she just stay???

More Final Signs On The Death Of The Store

On Tuesday I was helping out Father at The Store. The phone rang. Although he was right there next to it, he didn't answer it.

I didn't see him, but I got up to start to get to the phone. "Don't," he said, "it's just a salesman."

For a millisecond there I wanted to ask why, but I didn't, because I really didn't want to hear the answer. But he gave me one anyway: "We're not buying anything anymore," he said.

I could guess that, but then he came with even graver news: "The Store will be closing in one, maybe two months."

My God. That's it? I'll be honest; I actually felt a little relief for the next day on that. The uncertainty, the chance that I'd just show up to The Store one day only to see the back door padlocked and the front door with a "For Sale" sign on it, weighed on me. I may not like that the day is coming, but if it is, I would like to know when. I kind of have a ballpark date now ... assuming My Father's right. And he's been wrong before.

But today I came to my senses -- Why am I happy about this? I told myself. I shouldn't be happy. I may be relieved, but I shouldn't be relieved, either. There is an end. And now I know the date, or at least an approximate one. And I will not be ready, no matter what.

---

This is weird. Mother asked me Tuesday night for help looking up her paychecks online. Signing her up wasn't as arduous as, for example, helping her pay mortgage payments for my parents' Vegas properties.

But while I was helping her through it she dropped a motherfucking bombshell, something I didn't even come close to asking for: "I'm going to quit."

WHAT???????!!!!!!!!!!!! Quit?!?!?! Why??? Who ... who's going to bring home the money now?

She says that even though the job brings in a lot of money -- and looking over her payments she does -- she says that Father wants her to quit. Funny; when Father broke the news about The Store Tuesday he said she wants to quit because she doesn't like the job. Well, which is it?

Well, the reason why she can is that they were indeed bought out. One of the stipulations was that Mother worked for them for six months. I was told by Father that Mother's managers like them a lot. But now that that six-month window has passed, she doesn't have to work for them anymore. And I guess she won't.

You know, when Father told me Tuesday about The Store's -- gulp -- end date, I had a dream where Mother would realize The End is near and think that, at the end of the day, she does not want to work for another person. As tough as it is, being your own boss was the one thing that mattered most to her. That's what I admired most about my parents, and so I thought that she'd just tell Father, "Screw this, I don't like working for another person, we're bring back The Store!" And My Father would be, "What the fuck are you talking about???" and they'd argue, but at the end Mother would run The Store and hire back the two people they let go. Father could retire and do whatever the hell he wanted, but Mother would stay and work. And I'd hold her and cry because I knew, deep down, she needed to be independent.

Instead, for some goddamn reason, tonight I'm supposed to type out her resignation letter. I don't know why. I don't want to do it. Maybe if I don't do it, she'll continue to work. I mean, if no one is working, where is the money going to come from?

We're going to be out on the street.

I'm really scared now.

Expenses Without Receipt

Catching up on a week. Wish me luck:

• Thursday morning I went to cash in a lottery ticket. A big one: $150 (INFUSION).
• Friday night I went to the Minnesota women's hockey game. Hot dog, pop, program: $9.
• Saturday night I went to the Minnesota men's hockey game. Scalped ticket, hot dog, pop, program: $37.

Christ ... at the risk of missing a lot of things, that's it -- for now. Gotta go.

ETA: I forgot that I went to visit Youth-In-Government Friday afternoon. I assume everybody knows what YIG is. I was surprised that they had merchandise to sell; they didn't do that when I was in high school. Anyway, I was so sentimental that I bought a pin: $3.

And then, after the women's hockey game, I went to My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Version). Mocha with tip: $5.25.

My fucking God, I am bad at this. After coffee I went to My Favorite Late-Night Place for a late-night bite: $10 (with tip).

And then on Saturday, Grandmother went to the casino. For good luck (I guess it's a Chinese thing), I gave her $1. I think it was Saturday.

That night, after the men's hockey game, I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). Coffee gratis, so tips and a dance with Mariah only: $26.

And then, after the strip club, I went to My Favorite Late-Night Place for another late-night bite: $13 (with tip).

(I'm writing these from my day planner. It's supposed to be the other way around: Typing them out here is supposed to help me keep track of expenses I'll put in my day planner. Oh, I am fucking this up.)

Premature Ejaculation -- Twice!

I think I've already said that I'm a porn addict. One sign that I am is that most times when I log on with something I need to do, I invariably go to a porn website and jerk off until I cum. Only then do I feel like I can go back to doing what it is I intended to do. It's an OCD thing.

Tonight was one of those times, but with a twist. I still need to complete a column about college football's Mythical National Championship -- I know it's already over, I'm still gonna do it -- but ... I don't know when or how to what, but I started looking at porn. And when I start looking at porn, I pull down my pants and start pulling on my cock.

Well, I had gone through page after page, which is routine. There were some good pictures, but it's not as if I'm a premature ejaculator ... most of the time. But then, a few hours ago, while wanking to a good, hot picture, I felt something. I don't know if you guys can relate, but when you touch yourself and you're getting real hot and bothered, and you're shaking your bottle, you feel a muscle twitch so much that ... you feel like your urethra went past a tipping point, you know? Then, you know that you're gonna cum, but because your ejaculate didn't immediately fire out your pisshole, you think you can somehow contain it, and instead the cum just oozes out. Has anyone ever had that feeling? Well, that happened to me.

I've done that before; no big deal. I've been able to orgasm myself, even though the trigger has already been fired, so to speak. So I just kept on jerking my chicken, because I thought I had a ways to go before I could retreat to the bathroom and really knock it off.

But then, as I was going through more really erotic photos, I went a wank too far. I felt that I went "over the edge" again, only this time I wasn't going to be able to contain part of my orgasm. This was all coming out, all at once, all as far as it was going to go. In a split second I said, "Well, I'm in my bedroom, so this is going to cause one hell of a mess, but let it happen."

What I made sure to do was turn away from my desk where my laptop was. But where would I go? If I spin my chair to the right, I'd go to my bed. No. If I went to the left, there were papers and clothes. Good enough. And I let my semen fly. I didn't actively look at my ropes, but coming out of my dick it jettisoned like rockets. I could feel the warmth of my hot cum over my fingers, then over my dick fur, then my genitals, then my groin muscles. I know this was going to be a fucking mess. But I can't stop my urges, or Mother Nature. I just kept cocking my cock, and zoom! out went another projectile.

When I was done, I kind of regretted it; much of it fell just beyond the range of my penis, which meant in landed on my underwear, specifically inside, where, if I just pulled my pants up, I would be sitting right in it. I also got the back of my pajama pants, which sucks because I just changed into them. They're new for the week. (I change pj's about once every two weeks. Yes, I'm a slob. No, I don't go out in them, so it doesn't matter.) Oh well, can't just go to bed in them. Worst of all was all the cum on the chair, right where I spread my legs. And there wasn't a towel in sight.

I am glad, however, I did not throw my dirty clothes in the hamper just yet. So I took off my pants and long underwear (the latter of which have these annoying zippers around the legs, which I did not unzip) and bottomless, I waddled over to these dirty clothes. I used them as rags, cleaning up my hands, then my torso, then the chair, then anything that might have fallen on the floor (no idea exactly where). I put on my old pajama bottoms -- I'll be wearing the red ones for a third week -- sans undies, rolled all my soon-to-be-crusty laundry into a ball, and headed out to the hamper, which is right next to the bathroom, where I proceeded not to masturbate, but now to clean off for good and then brush my teeth.

I really don't want to prematurely cum like that again. I don't know how it happened to me. I'm not that responsive. I don't think it'll happen again.

But you know what? It felt guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuud!