Expenses Without Receipt

Shit, I have to go all the way back to the 19th.  Has it been that long?

OK, starting with today, Wednesday, January 30:

• Go back to Tuesday the 29th, where I finally saw Lincoln.  Yeah, Daniel Day-Lewis totally deserves the Oscar for this one, goddammit.  He's so good, I was convinced I was watching Abraham Lincoln himself.  Kind of a talky movie, but nonetheless very well done.  A-?  Anyway, I was watching at this place that offers a "Stimulus Tuesday" deal on their popcorn and pop, but starting this week they boosted the prices of those two by 50 cents apiece to two bucks.  I might have to re-evaluate if this is now the place to go to for cheap movies.  Till then, popcorn, pop and ticket equals: $9.25.
• On Monday the 28th, I had nowhere to go until I decided to drive to St. Paul.  First of all I had a bad run-in with a state department worker over the phone and I thought I wanted to drive all the way over there to give her a piece of my mind; I might blog about that later.  I then went to the St. Paul Macy's to see if I could get any clearance deals before they close up shop.  The only thing I would want are expensive jeans, and at 50% off I think I can wait a little bit longer.  Anyway, decided this at the parking lot at Wendy's, where I decided to go eat because I got a coupon for a free single hamburger after the University of Minnesota men's hockey team beat either Notre Dame or Air Force earlier this month.  Glad I wrote down the price I paid for their cheapest fries and Coke: $2.12.
• The Cobalt Cafe -- have I ever named this place -- is the coffeeshop connected to the Brookdale Library and Government Center.  I chilled here after going to St. Paul, and I got a coffee.  A large one, because between 2 and 3 it's a buck off.  With tip: $1.25.
• On Mondays I'm supposed to call before I come home because I might need to buy chicken.  This past Monday Father wanted me to not only buy chicken but also lottery tickets.  He paid me back (although not entirely) for those things when I got home.  An infusion of: $20.
• Saturday, January 26th. ...  Took up my gym's offer of a buy-one-month, get-one-month free deal: $15.
• That night I went out, even though My Fucking Father got pissed off.  After taking in the ice cross downhill finals (that is Crashed Ice's technical name for the sport) I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) for the first time in three weeks.  And seeing how cash-poor I am now, it may be at least that long before I come in again.  Coffee and tips: $10.
• I then went to Caffetto.  I could afford a small coffee.  With tip: $1.75.
• All the way back to Wednesday the 23rd, a day that went from too many uninteresting choices to spend it to a startle to take food to Father to existentialism deriving from robots taking the jobs I want to have (I really need to blog about that), I went to a place called A Slice Of New York, on the north end of this place called Eat Street, somewhat close to the Minneapolis Institute Of Arts.  I was going to hit that place when I saw the Terracotta Warriors exhibit on Thursday before decided to eat inside the museum instead.  But since I was in the area after dropping by The soon-to-be-dead Store, I had a pizza and a coke.  Not bad.  Did I tip?  Was there a tip jar?  I don't think there was a tip jar.  Interesting: $5.32.
• Tuesday the 22nd: The movie Wreck-It Ralph.  Very charming, and I kind of teared up when Wreck-It Ralph was plummeting to his death.  But was it a real game?  Is Sugar Rush a real game?  If not, then this was not the trip down my video game-dominated childhood I expected the movie to be.  B+.  The last time I enjoyed the movie's old prices for food, although the price of a ticket for weekdays already went up a quarter, presumably on the New Year: $8.25.

For now I'll say I'm all caught up.

The Lamp

Goddamn.  Yesterday I went into my bedroom and see My Fucking Father replaced the main light, which is a nightlight on my TV stand, with a huge-ass lamp -- and he pushed all the crap on that side of the TV stand aside.  And then today, for some fucking reason he put back the old nightlight where it was and put this new lamp at my night stand next to my bed, where I put my box of tissues.  When I came in today the tissue box was on my bed.  He just fucking threw it onto my bed like I was supposed to figure it out.

So I did.  I put it back where I wanted it and took the new lamp and put it at a corner, unplugged.  So now, except for the lamp, everything is back where it was.  Like I fucking want it to be.

It's Too Goddamn Hot!

One day I am going to blog post about all the things I hate about the new remodeling at our house.  But right now I'll just comment that the new HVAC system is working very well.  Too well, in fact.

When my parents were gone I mostly shut off the central heating because I was mostly going to stay in my sister's bedroom and I figure that an electric heater would be enough for me to stay warm when I wouldn't have to heat the rest of the house.  It got really cold when I ran naked all the way to the bathroom, and there have been days since they came back where I think I had to keep the entire house warm or else the walls would shatter, but I didn't need it.

But since they've come back they make sure that nighttime is the right time for the heating to be on.  And it is on, full blast up to 72 degrees.  I don't know how they feel, but in my new room (Grandmother's real room) it is fucking hot.  Seriously, it is fucking hot.  It can't be this hot anywhere else in the house.  The external heating coil is directly under my current bedroom, and maybe it has something to do with the ambient sunlight heating up my room before it sets, but it's a goddamn furnace in here every night.  I watched TV in just my long underwear tonight.  Fuck, I probably could sleep naked in my bed and I'd be fine.

Why do my folks have to crank it up so high?  I don't want to bitch to them because I want to talk to them as little as possible.  I'll be a martyr instead, suffering in silence for overreacting to the weather outside.

My Fucking Father likes to walk in on me while I'm in my room.  Next time he fucking does that, he might find me totally naked.  He might like that for all I fuckin' know. ...

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -2).  In a bad screening week where every single entrant lost at least one game, it's the U. men icers that are left at the top after the tide of Minnesota Loser Suck receded.  They choked away a ten-game unbeaten streak (eight wins, two ties) Friday when Minnesota State-Mankato's Brett Knowles popped in a rebound past Goalie Adam Wilcox with 44 seconds left in the game to give the Mavericks a 2-1 win.  They rebounded to trounce the Mavs in Mankato Saturday 4-1, but the damage was done: They have slipped behind St. Cloud St. in the race for the final WCHA Race As We Know It.

Yet, somehow, they have retained the top spot in both the USA Today/USA Hockey Magazine and USCHO.com polls, holding off Quinnipiac.  Quinnipiac???  The Bobcats actually lead all in the all-important PairWise Rankings.  They have a bye week before having two all-important games at St. Cloud St.

#-2: Swarm (Re-Entry!).  Had a lead at Toronto Friday before the Rock blanked the Smarm in the fourth quarter 3-0 (Toronto in fact scored the last five goals in the match) and collapsed to a 13-12 loss.  The next night, the night where I went to St. Paul but instead attended the "Crashed Ice" event at the grounds of the St. Paul Cathedral, they had their home opener and finally won the first time this year, 15-14 over Washington.  But look closer: For the third straight game they were outscored in the final quarter -- 4-1 in holding off the Stealth at the X, 13-3 total.

One game this week: at Colorado Saturday.

(Note: The rest of the teams in this week's WMNSS went winless this week.)

#-3: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -1).  Ah, so there is a tie-breaker in wrestling.  In a meet so touted that they moved the game from the Sports Pavilion to Williams Arena, the fourth-ranked Goofs rasslers lost to third-ranked Iowa 15-15.

Wait; 15=15, doesn't it?  The Hawkeyes flashed out to a 15-3 lead, but once again the U. managed to rally and win the last four weight classes.  So what do you do?  I'm guessing that the first tie-breaker is most matches won.  But that was tied at five.  I don't know what the second tie-breaker is, but the third is total points won within the matches (that 15 came from both schools winning five "decisions," and a "decision" gives the whole team three points ... a major decision [don't ask me what it takes to get that] gives the team four points and a pin six).  And that's where Iowa kicked the Gophers' ass, 41-33.  And I was kind of being dramatic about the final score; the tie-breaker gave the Hawkeyes an extra point, so Iowa actually won 16-15.

The team now stands at 5-1 in the Big Ten and 11-2 overall, but it's clear that once again, this year is a year where they'll destroy anybody even remotely less talented than them, but won't defeat any of the teams that turn out to be more talented than them.  Michigan St. appears to be the former; they come to Dinkytown Sunday afternoon.

#-4: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -4).  Tuuuuuuuu-byyyyyyy!  Tuuuuuuuuu-byyyyyyyyyy!  Tuuuuuuuuuu-byyyyyyyyyyy!

OK, let me start my review of this club this way.  According to one predictive and more accurate statistic, Kenpom, Minnesota is still a Top 10 team.  How?  The creator of this metric, Ken Pomeroy, believes that points per possession, on offense and defense, removes the dimension of pace that really skews more popular statistics hashed out in the media, most notably points for against per game.  And then he uses a variation of the Pythagorean Theorem -- remember that?  Go back to trigonometry and recall that you take each number, square both, and them together, then take the square root of that.  Kenpom is calculated the same way, but instead of a factor of two, he uses an exponent that, through calculations of seasons past, he has deduced ends up with the number of wins a team actually wound up with that year.

With that factor and trying to use it for this season, the Gophers, as of press time, have a "Pythag" score of .9469, ninth-best in top-flight college basketball.  What Mr. Pomeroy is saying is that the Gophers are a good team, and screening out luck, this team is better, and would be better in the win-loss record, then all but eight teams.

Of course, selection for the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament isn't dependent on Kenpom but on wins and losses, so try to tell Gopher fans not to panic after playing awful in losing at Northwestern, then playing scared and stupid late in the second half in the loss in Wisconsin.  I was at the gym watching the end of the game, and I couldn't believe that Traevon Jackson's last-minute shot bounced up and in through.  I was looking at the floor to see the guy who grabbed the rebound because, really, neither team was shooting straight at the end of that game.  However, I kind of had a bad feeling that Rodney Williams, a shitty free-throw shooter, would not be able to sink the two free throws awarded when Trevor Mbakwe was fouled (and injured) on a half-court inbounds play.  He somehow made the first, but bricked the second, and of course the Goofs lose 45-44.  But they held the Badgers down possession-wise!

The U., 9th in Kenpom but either 23rd or 24th in the polls, host Nebraska and Iowa this screening week.  They are mired in a four-game losing streak; can Tubby Smith coach a turnaround in his team?

#-5: Wild (Last Week: 0).  Well that two-game winning streak to start the year was fun while it lasted.  Too bad they're now mired in a three-game losing streak after going 0-3 this week.  (I know they lost in St. Louis in overtime so they got a point, but that's bullshit, they lost.)

The problem right now is a problem that has plagued this organization since its birth: No scoring.  Zach Parise, so far, has been as good as advertised, leading the whole team in points.  Dany Heatley, too.  But past the Parise-Heatley-Mikko Koivu line, no one is scoring.  Meanwhile, don't blame Ryan Suter too much for having a -5.  I don't believe plus/minus is accurate in hockey at all.  That just means he was on the ice when the other team scored five more times than we the Mild scored.  What does that mean?

The one saving grace: Although a few people said the club could be a Stanley Cup contender, and people like me believed they should at least make the playoffs, a few experts think they won't make the postseason this year because they are too young.  A year away, they say.  At this moment, I'll take it.

This week: Home to Chicago and Columbus, then at Anaheim and Phoenix.

#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3).  Like the Minnesota men's basketball team, the Woofie Dogs have lost four in a row.  Unlike the Minnesota men's basketball team, the Woofie Dogs have lost nine of their last ten games after going 0-for-3 this week.  There are many reasons for that, the loss of Kevin Love and the delayed resumption of full-time work for Ricky Rubio among them, but honestly, this losing streak cannot reflect well on Interim Head Coach Terry Porter.

The last defeat, in Charlotte Saturday, was particularly galling.  Gerald Henderson sank the game-winning shot in a long possession in which the Wolves knocked the ball away twice.  The Bobcats had lost 16 games in a row at home ... but they beat the Timberwolves!!!  And the Bobcats/soon-to-be-Hornets-again are going to be the worst team in the National Basketball Association for the second year in a row, and yet they have an all-time record of 12-6 against our team (plus, they have swept them three out of the last four and four out of the last six seasons).  The Bobcats were born in the 2004-5 season, which was the year after the Woofs went to the Western Conference Finals -- in other words, The Year The Team Went To Shit.  Charlotte won the first-ever match-up between the two, and has taken two out of every three games since.  For some reason I find that fact particularly galling.

When should I expect my friend to give me free game tickets again?  They start a six-game homestand with games against the Clippers, the Lakers, New Orleans and Portland.  This would have been a spectacular time to see our up-and-coming team take on the glamour squads of the West.  Now it's a case where you're going to watch the other teams' stars.

#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5).  Yeah, this is just about over.  Matching five-point losses at Penn St. and home to Illinois have given the Goof vagina ballers a four-game losing streak -- hey, just like the men and the Wolves!!!  At 13-8 overall and 2-5 in-conference, this year they'll be lucky if they even make it to the WBI.  When will the Pam Borton Watch begin?  Seriously, when?  Hosting Michigan and at Nebraska this week.

Weird day with My Fucking Father.  After his meltdown Saturday night, I decide to brave out what was forecast to be a bad weather day (which turned out to be even worse, what with the accumulation of snow no one saw coming) and head out.  Before I did that, I helped Mother with something, then helped My Father with carrying out broken marble tile to their minivan.

OK.  Then he left a message for me while I was at the Rosedale library, where I ended my afternoon after "cleaning my room" by getting rid of my clothes that have holes to Goodwill; going to Rosedale to clean out my car; and dumping some old non-compostable plastic bags at a nearby Target.  He was panicky, trying to find out when I was coming home.  For the record, I didn't even want to use my car Sunday, but him acting like a little bitch forced me to get away from him.

Called to tell him I was coming home from the Terracotta Warriors exhibit at MIA, to which he said, "Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay."  He also said that when I got home and asked him where to park the car.

From there he told me to shovel the driveway, then asked me to help him move the dining room table.  He was inordinately bitching about me finding a job, going back to school, watching too many games and sleeping.  And then he needed me to fix the humidifier.

I took a nap this evening.  Woke up the constant sound of My Fucking Father fixing something outside.  Heard a lot of clanging.  Whatever, fuck him.

Setting Me Off

Tonight, driving home just now, I looped back to the son-of-a-bitch who flipped out and threatened to have me fired.  Even though this was two years ago, I can't help but go back to that bad memory.  I can't shake that memory because I still love the job that puts me in the same place as he is.  Guy's such a bully, I will not put it past him that he will try and take my job from me in the near future.  I think he's that conniving.

I was absolutely taken over by the fear and anger that wells up whenever I think about him and that run-in during my drive home.  And maybe that set me up for what happened afterward.

My Fucking Father wanted me home early tonight after I decided to go to the Crashed Ice finals in St. Paul. Went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition), then coffee, then home.  Got home at 1.  To me, that's early.

Probably wasn't to My Fucking Father.  Maybe that's why he said what he said.  Or, maybe he was going to say it even if I stayed home.  He too is a bully, a very passive-aggressive one.

So, he says, "Are you working tomorrow?"

Part of me knew I was about to walk right into his trap.  But I couldn't lie; there's a chance of ice and freezing rain tomorrow, and I'm not going to drive into that if I can help it.  So I said no.

"Then you should clean up your room ..." and in my head I just totally lost it, GODDAMN WHY DID I SAY THAT???  I'M FUCKING GONNA KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, MY ROOM IS CLEAN ENOUGH, YOU JUST SAY THAT TO BE AN ASSHOLE AND NITPICK OVER STUPID SHIT BECAUSE I GOT HOME LATER THAN YOU WANTED ME TO AND YOU'RE A FUCKING CLEAN-FREAK WEIRDO!!!  But all I did was note that my bedroom door was open.  These days I make a point to shut it because I don't want anybody (read: My Fucking Father) to pry into my personal business.  Of course, I don't lock it.  And this is Exhibit A as to why I maybe should.  He was nagging at me to clean up either papers or clothes (did he look into my closet, too?  That's none of your goddamn business!!!), but I couldn't hear which because I was mocking his words under my breath: "Me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me ..." -- you know, kind of like Beeker.  And I'm still saying that under my breath now.  How infuriating what that asshole said to me.

I'm running hot right now.  Would I be this pissed off if I wasn't mentally consumed by the guy who threatened me two years ago?  Maybe, maybe not.  My Fucking Father could push my buttons alone by the way he set me up when I came home.

Triggers, it's all triggers.  The best way to be free of those triggers is to remove yourself from them.  But that means both leaving my job and leaving home.  I won't do the former, I really can't do the latter.  Moreover, I can't really do anything about the former, at least not now.  The latter?  Well, I quickly flashed through what it would take to, say, go back to school in Los Angeles.  That way I could be free of this bullshit.  But seeing as how I have no money and no real reason to go back to school, all I'm going to do is blog about it (again, the main reason why I created Wailing And Failing is to have an outlet for all my frustrations and fears), go to sleep, wake up tomorrow morning, and not do a goddamn thing about cleaning my room.  Because fuck My Fucking Father, the douchelord.

One other thing that keeps cropping up in my mind: My Fucking Father repeatedly is accusing me of things the same way Grandmother did as her dementia came over her her last year at home.  She continually said I took her checkbook; not only does he continue to say I need to throw away my things, he has also began to accuse me of losing papers that I have given to him for him to keep.  I'm not saying he is suffering from Alzheimer's; he's done this for a long time, and I attribute that to him just being a bad father.  But I can imagine him, if he does start to, you know, go mentally, go back to these beliefs he holds on to with an iron fist and say this to me 24/7 as he's older.  I want to stay home for them, but the house got very tense when Grandmother started to lose her bearings.  I don't know if I want to be around if My Fucking Father also begins to deteriorate in his mind.

In the meantime, Fuck You, Father.  Seriously, go fuck yourself.

We Were Victims Of Theft ... We Just Didn't Know It Till A Lot Later

So, yeah, the story about these contractors. ...

Around Labor Day My Father found these two guys to redo the floors and walls of the upper floor and bathroom.  They came for a week.  Seemed like My Father loved these guys.  Either they were working on another job at a property he owns in town, or he came recommended through a friend.  Regardless, bottom line is that these are two strangers that I don't want invading our home doing a home renovation that didn't seem necessary.

I am still living this ruse that I have shit to do.  I would stay home because someone needs to be around the house while they're fixing up the place, but I know that if I told the truth I would have to face My Fucking Father's questions about what I'm doing with my life.  So to keep it up, I just leave -- don't remember where I was going in early September, but I just went out.  Honestly, I don't know if my parents believe that I'm working.  In fact, I don't really know if they really care that I'm lying, if I'm lying.  But just in case, I keep up with the charade.

So they were there a week, maybe a week and a half.  But they were not done.  One day they just ... didn't show up.  Since fixing up the place was My Father's idea, I didn't even mention anything like, "Hey, did these guys come today?  I don't think I've seen them all week."

And it was a week before it became very clear to all of us that the contractors just skipped the job.  As steamed as he was, My Father wasn't outwardly showing it -- no deflective yelling at us, for example.  That was bad enough, but his efforts to contact them yielded only one text, about a week after they went AWOL.  One of the two guys that had been working on the house (they finished tiling most of the floor, removing bricks from a living room wall and cutting down a part of a half-wall) said that something came up and that they'll be back as soon as they can.  They never did.

But that wasn't the worst of it, either.  Some time after that, My Father said that the contractors stole two pieces of big antiques that he was displaying at our house, a dish and vase that he says date back to China's dynasty days 2,000 years ago.  He has said that to us ever since he showed them to us, and I still am skeptical about that, but I have no proof that he's wrong.  Besides, those two things are important to him, and that still doesn't give these asshole contractors the right to steal them while, supposedly, My Father thought these guys were cool (where did he find these guys, anyway?) and went downstairs to huddle in my parents' bedroom to relax.

So I did what he asked me to do and filed a report with the city police.  Weird just going down to city hall and waiting for an officer to saunter in, take out a report sheet, sit down and start writing.  This was something I had a bit of anxiety over, and my visceral thought was to see a person of authority share my sense of urgency.  But he didn't, and upon reflection -- well, it took us at least two weeks to go through all the shit that we moved around and discover that the dish and vase were gone, so they are probably long gone by now, so really, what could the cop do?

So for about 15 minutes I sat there and told the police officer -- whose last name sounded familiar to me, and after a while I think he was the person I called about the time I left my night shift job at Xcel and saw that someone rear-ended my car -- everything I knew, which wasn't much.  He gave me his card with a case number that I couldn't read; he re-wrote it, gave the card back to me, and I was on my way.

What the officer wanted were pictures of the two missing antiques.  My Father has them on his phone, but it's a hacked phone, and even though he can take pictures, there's no way to send them.  (We've been through this before with some pics he wanted to send to some insurance adjuster, and we nearly got into yet another fight over why I wasn't able to send them.)  I don't remember if I asked him if I could just take his phone and show it to the officer.  Don't know why.  Maybe it's because I was working at the time and it would have been too difficult to leave work (actual work), go home, take Father's phone, go to the police station and show the officer who is primary on the case Father's phone and go, "Yeah, so this is what they look like."  Maybe I realized then that doing that is kind of useless.

So what I did was give him some information about who these contractors were, a timeline of when they worked and when we realized something was missing, etc.  Once there was nothing new left to tell him (pictures on Father's phone excepted), I stopped calling.  And since I haven't heard from the officer, I guess the case is lying dormant.

When Father decided to hire someone else to finish the job, he made it a point to put away the remaining valuables in a corner of a room the new contractor won't be working in.  In hindsight, this is something he should have done in the first place.

In the meantime, if anyone has seen a huge Chinese-looking plate or vase, please let me know.

Money-Grabbing By MIA?

It has been about three months since I last went to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.  What was I there for?  I forget, but I assume it was lovely.

I went again yesterday (Thursday) morning because it was the last weekend of the Terracotta Warriors that were found in Xi'an, China.  You should go; it's fascinating to see something that I at least have read in schoolbooks when I was in high school.  Be careful, however -- you'll have to pay a pretty penny for it.

And that should shock Twin Citians and patrons of the Institute.  Things have changed there, man.

First of all, the exhibition, like exhibitions usually do at MIA, cost money.  I don't ever remember them costing as much as $18-20 like this one did, but I have a student ID so I only needed to pay a much more reasonable $9.

Because the website recommended I reserve online I did.  Never done that before.  Nevertheless I was kind of struck that while I was checking out there was a space for donations.  When I leave the museum there are these huge glass boxes to put money in, and I usually throw in a few dollars.  With this option, I decided I would not throw in actual cash but charge it to my card -- but only a buck, mostly because I am poor right now, partly because I kind of looked askance at the, for lack of a better word, pandering.

So yesterday morning I got to the museum, which is in an area just south of Minneapolis that is getting seedier.  There is a small two-level parking ramp right next to MIA (and The Children's Theater, which is another wing of the same building) which I prefer to park in.  It's always been free ... till I got there and saw arms and a sign showing parking rates.  Parking rates?  Uh, no.

There are spillover parking lots across the street and blocks down from the museum.  I have resorted to use these whenever I couldn't find a choice space in the ramp, and they have been free -- again, till I went yesterday.  They too have arms and electronic payment machines.  What???  Why???  So I have resorted to park on the street.  Not too far away, but three cars behind me was a car absolutely festooned with bird shit.  And again, this ain't the most gentrified area of town.

It got worse when I got in.  While getting my ticket at the Information Desk I saw a sign on the front desk: "We suggest a donation of $5."  Who da eff???

What is the deal with the sudden ... craving for money?  A long time ago MIA charged admission, but it was revolutionary when the director long ago made coming to the museum for free.  I thought that was a courageous, democratic idea.  But now I see that MIA is taking money for parking and asking for money to come in.  Why are they becoming so ... solicitous?  Is the museum hurting for cash?

I find this kind of beneath an institution that once bravely eschewed money and opened up its collection of art and artifacts for all.  If this sudden money-grabbing isn't enough for them (whether it truly is necessary or if overhead charges are spurring this emphasis on revenue), and if they decide they must charge money for admission, that would be very, very sad.  But I see no way they can backtrack from this.  And the museum has already walked far enough down this dark path to put a bad taste in my mouth.

Today Was Such A Bad Day

This morning I woke up not to the alarm I set, but to the contractor coming in for the first time this week.  I guess he was supposed to come yesterday but he felt sick.  And the day before ... hell, I guess he was celebrating MLKJ Day.

I overheard that Mother was still at home but Father was at The Store.  Good -- she's a little less of an asshole when it comes to me getting up in the morning.  Tried going back to sleep, but by then I was worried about what to do with my day.  Go to the library and work on my column/look for a job/research classes to take?  Go to the gym and then to the library?  Go to the U. and look for classes there?  Or go the museum and catch the Chinese terracotta warriors exhibition that will close Sunday?

Luckily (sort of) that decision, which had me tossing and turning as I pushed back my phone alarm from 10 to 10:30, was made for me, when, about ten minutes after the contractor came in, Mother opened the door and asked me, gently, if I was going to work that day.  (If it were My Fucking Father, he would immediately harangue me for not waking up when he opened my door.)  She needed me to bring My Father lunch because he woke up late (gee, so do I ... where do I get that from?) and forgot to take it to The Store.  So, I was up.  And the U. was on the way, so I decided to go there for the day.

Didn't know it at the time, but that was the best part of my day.

---

When I went to The Store, there were two other cars there.  One of them was a Lexus belonging to my parents' only friend, the short, annoying one that looks like a rat.  The other vehicle was a truck, and I don't know any associate, business vendor or customer of theirs that drives a truck.

I burst in (while keeping the car running to make it look like I was running late and had to go to work) and Father tells me to put his food (I gave him a call when I hit the off-ramp to get to The Store) in the kitchen.  That's where what I presume to be the owner of the truck was.  The guy was standing there with a clipboard, looking around at things.

He sure as hell wasn't there to buy something.  He was looking around to see either what The Store was worth or what he could tear down.  Another sign in the death of The Store.

Mother sending me out to give Father food was a blessing in disguise.  It gave me another chance to be inside The Old Lady's shopworn charm.  I need to mark Wednesday as possible -- gulp -- The Last Time.

---

Oh yeah, their rat-faced friend was there, and he was particularly creepy.  After I put the bag of food on a chair, I turn to leave when I see him.  And he was smiling at me.  He does that often, not always, and whenever he smiles it looks like he's leering at me, the way a sexual predator stares at a kid walking to school.

Worse, this fucker wanted to talk to me.  "So you ..." and before he could blurt out something that I didn't want to hear, because most of his talking to me (I wouldn't call them conversations because I rarely engage in a back-and-forth with him and I have never started a conversation with him) either insults me or bores me to death, I finish his sentence: "... I gotta go to work."

First of all, while I say this, he is standing in my way.  This motherfucker is standing in my way.  WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU STAND IN MY WAY, ASSHOLE?!?!?!  YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN SO RUDE AS TO STAND IN MY WAY AS I'M LEAVING AS IF I HAVE TO GO TO WORK!!!  WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GOING TO DO, MAKE ME STAY AND TALK TO YOUR CREEPY FUCKING ASS, YOU COCKSUCKER?!?!?!  He eventually stepped out of the way, but I have absolutely no fucking clue why he did that.

I looked back at him in disgust.  But there he was, still smiling at me.  Why the fuck was he smiling at me?  Was that son-of-a-bitch laughing at me face because he knew he got me going?  Or is there something else going on?  Was he laughing because I said I had to go to work?

Oh my God ... WHAT IF HE KNOWS???

---

Really, I had no idea how I was going to "enroll" in a class.  I didn't know what class I could take, I sure as fuck don't know the cost, and even if I did know both, where and how do I sign up?  And it's crunch time; Tuesday started the first week of classes for the semester, and I have basically till Monday before I miss a class.  There is a rule that all students must attend the first class, but they have waived that requirement this semester because of the flu epidemic.  I'm sick, however, and besides, I don't think a guy so many years out of rigorous post-secondary education should take advantage of skipping the syllabus.

What do I go back for?  I decided on accounting.  What I really wanted was actuarial science.  During high school study hall I looked at this survey of best jobs to have, and being an actuary was #1.  The article interviewed an actuary who listed all of the perks: Steady demand, great pay, low stress, "And if I get fired, I just go to the place next door, and they'll hire me."  Unfortunately, the University of Minnesota does not offer an actuarial program.  Accounting was the next closest thing, and I have done research saying that accountants will be in demand for the next decade or so.  Much moreso than journalism.

But bad luck floored me as I went to this New York pizza place just south of The Store.  I was listening to Sirius XM Left and The Stephanie Miller Show.  Bad choice; I continued to listen after the show was over at the top of the hour for the news update by Associated Press Radio.  Their kicker story: How technology is taking jobs away.  The reporter's last sentence lists three occupations robots will take over.  I remember two of them.  One of them was paralegals, something I have thought about trying from time to time.

The other: Accountants.

If that's the case, why in the fuck would I want to go back to school to do that for???

Honestly, once I heard that in my car, the day just went to shit for me.  I was so fucking depressed that I decided to not even try looking for classes.  Oh, sure, I went around campus.  But that was mostly for the exercise, even though that was a bad idea because the winter wind was whistling across my ears to the point of freezing.  I just looked around, saw all these young men and women (especially the women -- coeds are so hot) cramming information in the hopes that will lead to better lives for themselves, and wondered if they knew the cruel world they're going to be deposited into.  Guys, robots took my job!  They can take yours, too!!  And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it!!!

I checked online and, sure enough, accounting is still an in-demand profession for the next decade or so.  But I now have the excuse not to go back to school.  Seriously, it's no use.

So what do I do with my time?  I don't know.  There's not a whole lot I can do now.  I tried my ass off, but all I have are dead-in job leads and wandering, expensive educational paths to nowhere.  I have nothing to do.  And that's all I can do.

Depressing, I tell you.

Can I Get Another Ice Cream?

I wrote about this under my real identity, but it's been a few months since it happened, so now I feel safe to retell it here.

So I was at an ice cream place called Crema Cafe.  Used to like it because it was in a secluded spot and their ice cream was really good.  The only thing bad about it occurs in the summer; their patio, which is cozy and quite nice, attracts mosquitoes.  I tried enjoying a cone out there and got bit in, and I'm not underestimating, a dozen times.

Anyway, several months ago, in the dying embers of summer, I went there to eat some ice cream.  Since this was way past mosquito season, I went out to their grotto to enjoy.  Two or three bites in, I guess the ice cream got hard, for as I recall, I was trying to lick the side of the ice cream where a drop was going to slide down the cone and my tongue managed to pick up the whole ball of ice cream.  It was that I was trying to take a bite out of the ice cream, but either way, a part of the cone cracked and the ice cream, the entire damn ball, rolled or jumped off the cone and plopped right onto the ground.  Damn, that's four bucks on the floor, wasted!!

There is no garbage can out there, so I pick up the ice cream off the ground with napkins I had to go back inside for.  Now, at this point I was thinking that I could just get another ice cream, so instead of throwing the whole thing in the garbage, I would show the pieces of my cone to one of the girls, and they would give me another one.  Right?

I wouldn't be writing about this if that were the case, so no.

She grabbed the ice cream and broken cone and napkins, went back to throw them away in her wastebasket ... and she just looked back at me.  We stared at each other -- only for a few seconds, but that would be more than enough to indicate that I was waiting for another ice cream.  I waited for what felt like an eternity in my head, and yet all I got visually was a blank stare.  Cynically I think her body language was telling me the equivalent of, "So, what the fuck do you want now?"

So I don't know if she was refusing to give me a replacement ice cream or truly did not know what else I wanted from her by just standing in front of her.  What I didn't do, and wasn't going to do, was say, "Well, can I get another ice cream?"  Because one, I thought it was, for lack of a better term, standard operating procedure when it came to customer service.  And even if she didn't offer, if I just said I wanted another one to replace the one that fell on the floor, I would come off as a greedy, entitled dick.  I'm not, but I don't want to be seen that way ... even though I think anybody in my situation would expect another cone.  Right?

Vexed, I just turned away after that uncomfortable silence.  I hope my eyes or any other part of my body wasn't expressing something like, "What the fuck was that?"  But that was what I was thinking.  Maybe I'm taking this too hard, but I'm surprised as shit that she didn't give me another ice cream.

A day later I recounted this story on facebook and I asked my friends if 1) she should have given me a replacement cone and 2) should I have asked for one if she didn't offer.  It was yes on both counts.  So instead of being a dick, I wound up being a pussy for not speaking up for myself.  Great.

Any opinions?

Oh, Shit, Now I Have Problems With My Laptop

This morning I head off to "work" at the library.  I turn the laptop on because I needed to pound out the Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey and continue on with my column.

But it wouldn't turn on all the way.  I get a blank screen.  Well, I then got an off-black screen; it changed, almost imperceptibly.  Anyway, what matters is that it didn't boot up.  I had something like this happen recently -- in fact, come to think of it, it was when I was at the Ramsey County Library and saw a bloody booger smeared on the wall of the study room I was in.

That time I just had to shut it off and wait before it was back to its normal self.  But not this morning.  I shut it off, waited a few minutes and turned it on again, but no pointer, no scroll, no cursor, nothing.  I kept repeating this cycle and giving it more minutes to rest, but it wasn't doing anything.  Oh, shit.

At least I was in a library.  That way I could go online at one of the working public computers and see what was wrong.  There were many things that I could do -- just some that I, you know, can't do, such as take apart the bottom of the laptop, or spend $200 on a new motherboard.

But there was one thing I tried once I got home: I unplugged my lap, took out my battery, then held down the power button for 60 seconds.  I was supposed to then put the battery back in, re-plug the power cord, and try to turn it on.  And sure enough, it booted up just fine, even though the laptop knew that it didn't start up correctly before and tried to diagnose and fix itself.

All well and good, and I used it for a little bit this evening without a hitch.  I turned it off with some hope that everything would be just fine.  But it wasn't; after I watched the news and took a shower, I turned it on again and boom, Black Screen Of Death.  Fortunately that trick of holding down the power button while the laptop had no access to power worked, and this time the lap resorted to a System Restore.  Plus, not for nothing, tonight I downloaded 11 important updates; my operating system is Vista, so maybe there was a glitch.

Two other things.  One, my computer has been bugging and slow for a while now, though I chalked that up to a combination of old age, our slow Internet connection speed at home, and all the porn I've been looking at online.  And two, I just replaced my worn-out old battery (the one that came with my laptop when I ordered it online back in, I think, 2008) on Monday, just as Vice-President Biden and President Obama took the oaths of office.  Maybe that has something to do with it.

We'll see.  I guess I can continue to just restart the computer by taking out the battery every time, at least until I can afford to buy another laptop.  But now I have to take contingencies.  If it is the battery, for example, I might have to bring my old battery with me tomorrow and put it in.  Or I might just have to go without a battery and plug my laptop in every time.  We'll see.  But I feel kind of sad that I was all happy thinking that my lap had been "fixed" this evening when it wasn't.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Wild (Re-Entry!).  So far, so good.  They are undefeated three days into this abbreviated, bastardized season.  I put them at 0 two reasons: New acquisitions Zach Parise and Ryan Suter are as good as advertised at least for now; and frankly, it's always a great day whenever The Real North Stars beat The Bastard North Stars.

Taking a quick look at the site's stat page shows that the top line of Parise, Mikko Koivu and Dany Heatley (weird that both Parise and Heatley are listed as Left Wingers) already account for three goals (including the go-ahead goals for both the Wild's wins) and five assists.  At least the #1 line is producing, even though it's early.  Keep this up and the franchise's chronic issue with scoring may be ameliorated.  Also, as far as I know, Suter is doing what he was hired to do: Sop up minutes and defend the opponent's best player.

With the truncated season (48 games in about 3 1/2 months) the games are going to come in bunches.  I think I read that the team has nine back-to-back games this year.  Teams may be as tired after this season as they would in a regular-sized one.  But they get a reprieve this week: They finish off their season-opening homestand tonight against Nashville, then have their first road trip in old-time Norris Division games vs. Detroit and St. Louis.

#-1: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: 0).  What's this I see ... the grapplers actually being behind to a team that is ranked worse than one spot behind them?  That's rare, and it would have been even more dire if the U. lost to Illinois at home.

After eighth-ranked Illinois claimed a decision at 165, the fourth-ranked Goofs were down 14-6.  But thank goodness Head Coach J Robinson back-loaded this year's crew.  His best players are on the heavier side of the weight scale (by the way, have meets always conducted their matches in increasing over by weight?  Could they switch it up once in a while?  Maybe even offer the order as part of game strategy?), and the last four guys all won their matches by decision to pull off an 18-14 victory.  They remain undefeated in the B-1-G, at 5-0.

They continue their three game homestand with a special Saturday afternoon dual meet against rival Iowa.  This has been moved out of the Sports Pavilion and into Williams Arena for the occasion.

#-2: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: Positive Numbers).  Tickets for the final series against North Dakota as Western Collegiate Hockey Association, at least for the final final game Saturday evening, were going for $350 at scalper sites.  And it was a hell of a series, too.  On Friday, they crushed the North Dakota Nameless 5-1.  Then, as part of Hockey Day Minnesota, they stormed back from a pair of two-goal deficits to deadlock the game at 4.  No, it wasn't a sweep of the dreaded Former Fighting Sioux, but to be able to swipe a point and, more importantly, leave NoDak with a bitter taste in their mouths after being up 4-2 in the third period, it really did feel like a win.

Just as important, the U. maintain a share of the lead atop the WCHA (with St. Cloud St.) and are still #1 in both men's ice hockey polls.  This screening week they finish their eight-game homestand with a home-and-home series against Minnesota-State-Mankato.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4).  This is how bad the Woofie Dogs are nowadays: Their only victory this screening week, 92-79 over Houston Saturday night, came on the strength of two guys who were signed that fucking morning.  Mickael Gelabale and Chris Johnson scored Minnesota's first 23 points in the fourth quarter to pull away.  Oh, great -- two guys on 10-day contracts are now leading this team???

That win brackets defeats at home to the Clippers and in Atlanta.  The MLK matinee was a particularly loathsome loss: Minnesota was up by 14 at the half, only to choke the game away.  The Dogs have now lost six of their last seven.

It appears the injury bug will pock-mark this season.  Before the pair of signings, there were only eight healthy players on the team.  The rest were wiped out due to injury or the flu.  Hell, even Head Coach Rick Adelman is out because his wife is in the hospital battling a bad illness.  Terry Porter has stepped in the past several games, and if results are a reflection of the coach, Adelman can't come back soon enough.

This week: Home to Brooklyn, then at Washington and Charlotte.

#-4: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -2).  Uh-oh.  There is more to this ranking than a loss to Michigan at home Thursday.  It was the most important regular season game in the Barn in a long time, maybe even decades, but even though the Wolverines showed they are a great team, this was a chance squandered before a national televised audience.  Too many turnovers throughout the game and missed shots around the rim in the second half doomed the squad.

What's worse is the win at Illinois a week or so back.  That win in Champaign opened up my eyes to how good Minnesota could be.  However, the Fighting Illini have since been gashed by Wisconsin and upset by Northwestern.  That win against Illinois looks a lot less impressive since then.  Combine that with the Goofs' losses at Indiana (although they made a hellacious comeback) and the Wolverines, and it doesn't look like this team could be as great as I once they could be.  They're still entrenched in the Top 15 of the polls and 7th in Ken Pomeroy's tempo-free efficiency ratings.  But as a Minnesota fan, I'm obligated to feel that a collapse could come, especially in the Big Ten, considered by consensus to be the best conference in college basketball this year.

This week could be dangerous.  They are on the road to play Northwestern and Wisconsin.  No rest for the wicked.

#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -1).  Wow, what a shitty week for Minnesota basketball.  Only one win between them.  That victory did not come from the Goofs lady ballers.  They lost Thursday at ranked Purdue (a day where their male counterparts lost at home to Michigan and the Woofie Dogs lost at home to The Bastard Buffalo Braves).  Then, in front of the largest crowd to see the team in four years (as part of their "Burst The Barn" promotion), 6,361 curious fans saw the home team get the ever-living shit kicked out of them by Nebraska by 21 points.  They needed to treat this game like Homecoming: Make sure you schedule the suckiest team for that day.  You damn well had better, at least, lose with dignity.  Instead, you go all-in to show off this team, and you attract a crowd to see its worst loss all year.  Why in the hell would they come back after that fucking disaster?

Minnesota, 2-3 in-conference, probably has a record commensurate with their relatively mediocre talent.  They are at Penn St. (finally good after recovering from deposing legendary but homophobic Head Coach Rene Portland) and host Illinois this week.

Two Things

1. Drank a Coke just now.  I've always loved Coke and Pepsi, even though I know it's bad for me and that it's always made me fatter, even more so in my advanced age.  My Fucking Father senses that and continues to nag at me for drinking it.  That's why I no longer drink pop at dinner, and in fact not even get a can while he can see or hear me, especially if I get the can from downstairs.  Made a point of doing that tonight, for example, just after I got done e-mailing something for Mother on Father's desktop.  He was taking a shower once I was done and took the can upstairs.  But I was dead tired, and thought that I could drink it as soon as I either took a nap or realized my body wasn't tired.  Well, it was, and I took a three-hour-plus nap.  I could've gotten the Coke from the refrigerator then, but I decided to watch Charlie Rose instead.  And after a half-hour, I hear the footsteps of My Fucking Father, going upstairs for a late-night snack, as usual.  He opened the fridge, which, since the contractor is putting tile on the kitchen floor, is just outside my bedroom door.  My Fucking Father saw the extra can of Coke.  And he's probably pissed.  And I guess I should've hid it from him before he came up, but instead, I'll be pissed at him and show it by dismissing him the next time he tells me, "You shouldn't drink Coke, you should drink orange juice instead!"  Nag.
2. Inauguration Day.  Glad to see that Chief Justice John Roberts didn't fuck up the oath like he did last time.  In fact, the one person who stumbled was President Obama.  But this reminds me that four years ago virtually to the day, on Obama's first Inauguration, was my first serious interaction with Twitter.  I had heard about it before, and it was by no means the Internet juggernaut that it is now, but I had hear that some news site was going to live-tweet (although I don't think the word "tweet" was used, and I don't even think that "tweet" was a word yet, in fact) the historic ceremony -- was it Slate?  I think it was Slate.  I thought it was really fun, especially how the user/tweeter was a successful wise-ass with only 140 characters.  And then, not too far afterward, Twitter became big, real big.  Just wanted to mark that.

How Does Everyone Like The New Myspace?

Well, I should ask if anyone is still using the old Myspace.  I still do, if only because I still play Mafia Wars, don't judge.  I use(d) Myspace to be "friends" with these college chicks who posed for Playboy, and then I expanded it to include porn stars.  It was strictly females only until, for some odd reason, I friended Ashton Kutcher.  Again, don't judge.

There has been no activity I have seen from guys I'm connected with.  Facebook clearly dusted Myspace years ago.  Yet it's still stuck around, and last week was their long-overdue overhaul.  Justin Timberlake, of all people, relaunched Myspace as a "music discovery" site and planted his long-awaited return to music, the single "Suit & Tie," as the first piece of music to be discovered on Myspace.

And you know what?  I still haven't listened to it yet.  Why?  Because when I first tried to login it didn't recognize my password, the same password I have used since I signed up for Myspace lo those many years ago.  I tried the next day, but it didn't work.  I was ready to ditch the ex-social networking site, but on a whim I looked again.  Apparently there was either a bug Myspace IT discovered or there was enough of an outcry by the dozens of people who still use it that on the splash page there is now a link that directs you to the old Myspace, the one you know and love.  And I logged in there just fine.

I don't remember how, but I did get into the new Myspace, and it's ... uncomfortable.  I see none of my Myspace friends; according to the site, I have no one I'm connected to.  The status updates are gone, as are the games like Mafia Wars.  It's replaced with, I assume because I haven't used it yet, ways to see showcased music artists that are "about to break through."  So the new Myspace has basically become a visualized form of Napster?  Mr. SexyBack, that's not how I find new music.  Pass.

And it looks like others are pooh-poohing the new version as well.  I have a feeling that the new Myspace is being received as well as New Coke.  And I liked New Coke!  For all its obsolescence, there are still enough fans who like it for its humble, limited joys.  Can't say I blame them, but I can't blame Timberlake for trying to find something new to do with a web company that News Corp. had to take a $500+ million loss from.  Now let's see if Myspace successfully completes this change, survives in its old form, or dies out.

Has anyone tried the new Myspace?  If so, what do you think?

The New Normal?

With my parents coming home from Las Vegas early because of my uncle's death, they (or at least My Father) decided to re-commence with phase of remodeling the home that was supposed to be done by the thieving, unscrupulous contractors that ditched the job and got away with some of our stuff.  (Have I blogged about that yet?  I continue to think I don't have shit to write about, but as I finally get around to blogging I remember everything that I do want to write about.)  He somehow found this guy, oh, I don't know, hanging out at the Home Depot looking for work, and this one guy has been hired by Father to put down the tile on the upper floor.  It looks fine, but he's not done yet, and apparently he does not do weekends.

My Father asked me if I was working, inference being that if I was not working, I could stay home and oversee the contractor to make sure he wasn't going to steal shit.  But I wonder if that was a trap; if I was being honest with him, I'm afraid he would then say, "So aren't you working?  Why don't you go back to school?"  And then I would feel I have to defend myself and start yelling back at him.  So I continue to lie; I say that I do have to work, albeit at a later time (so I could get the chance to grab at least a decent amount of sleep) and shorter hours, and I either go to libraries, shopping malls, the gym or the movies.

That means that one of them has had to stay home every day this week.  This roundelay of keeping up a productive appearance continues, and it might be headed to a higher, more duplicitous level.  But I don't know what they're doing once I leave.  In fact, I am not absolutely sure that both of my parents haven't been at home this week.  I do not know if they even go to The Store anymore.  Shit, I don't even know if they are legally in possession of The Store anymore.

I have my suspicions, but I was really scared this morning when I was woken up to sounds from the kitchen. Assumed it was Father, but it actually was Mother.  Worst of all, I didn't hear any indication they were leaving for The Store.

It's cold out, and I would rather just stay inside and wait to watch the football games today.  But it feels so weird to be around my folks when they haven't left for the day.  Which means I have to do.  Despite the weather outside, I had a plan to just walk to get coffee and just stay there until about 2, when I just had to go  back and see the games.

I did not expect to see Father starting the car when I came back.  He, or they, were leaving.  And since I didn't hear anything in the 2 1/2 hours between the time he started the car and the moment I heard the door open (which was just now, a minute ago from me typing this), guess is they left to either go to The Store or go shopping.

I am OK if they continue to go out during the day.  But I'm still scared that one day they just won't.

Expenses Without Receipt

I haven't done it yet for the New Year.  Got caught up with Uncle's death, then my parents came home, and then I didn't really need to do them for the first part of this month because I had no way of typing the expenses when there was no day planner to eventually write them down on, which of course is ridiculous because I could just type them here.  So I have more than half a month of stuff to remember, which I will fail utterly at.  Here goes, starting with Friday, January 18:

• Last (Friday) night, Caffetto.  Coffee with tip: $1.75.
• Thursday the 17th ... even though I shouldn't spend the money, I bought a ticket to tonight (Saturday) night's roller derby bout.  It's the one in St. Paul, and the Wild begin their long-awaited season on the same fucking night.  Why does MNRG insist on having bouts on the same night as Wild games?  Cost of the ticket: $13.
• Nothing on Wednesday I don't have a receipt for, so I'll go back to Tuesday the 15th, when I took in a movie on discount Tuesdays.  Glad I could still see a flick (Argo -- solid film craftsmanship, yet I was oddly unmoved; B for a movie Roger Ebert says is the best of the year), eat a decent-sized popcorn and drink a decent-sized pop for less than ten bucks: $8.25.
• Monday, January 14th: After doing my first tube time at the MRI at the U. for the first time in months and going down to eat a place that had a Jucy Lucy, I went to a branch of the Hennepin County Library to do some work on my computer.  Had a coffee.  With tip: $2.25.
• Oh yeah ... that evening, despite my meager bank account, I went to a stripper party to help out my ATF, ***e*, who said she went out-of-state to work and made no money.  Got a dance from her and was out of there in less than an hour: $20.

Am I all caught up?  That can't be right.  Should be longer, else all the things I've bought in the interim (and I have bought a lot) I have a paper trail for.

I Have A Pimple On My Ass Rim, And Tonight I Shat Blood

Had what I thought was a zit for some time, about three months.  But I was working at the time so I didn't have the chance to get it checked out till I was out of a job and was able to take in my check-up.

Showing your genitals to your doctor, let alone bending over so the doctor can see your asshole, is always debasing -- especially if your doctor's a woman.  But the first time I saw her I didn't have a chance to ask for a male doctor, and since she seemed to listen to me, I've stayed with her.  Anyway, she looked at it and said it's basically a pimple that's one the far end of my asshole.  I have sat on that thing and felt pain, and I even felt an itch go up my rectum, so I had a feeling something was up.  Oh, that and the fact that whenever I wipe my ass after I shit I see blood.  In fact, that's the first sign something was wrong down there.

My doc gave me pills and also told me to wash it regularly, of course.  I think spending too many days wearing tight long underwear formed this pimple, but washing myself still isn't something I do regularly.

Couple days ago I finished the pills and the itching was gone, plus I didn't feel that zit whenever I sat down.  But things changed tonight when I had my bowel movement.  The blood on the toilet paper came back after not seeing it for a few days.  Worse yet, when I got up the toilet had an ominous red tinge to it.

The things is, however, I'm not in pain.  We'll see what happens the next few days before I really panic.

More Car Problems

1. The leaks aren't over.  Since I've gotten it back I have seen what appear to be fresh spots on the driveway.  They weren't as big as they once were before I brought my car in ... until a few days ago, when what looked like a sizable (I've been using the word "sizable" a lot lately) spot of oil greeted me when I left in the morning.  The mechanic thought he got everything, but there was one trouble spot underneath the hood he chalked up to dirt, and he decided to just clean it up.  But now that it seems that it really is a leak.  He knows.  At least he knows.  Paying him to fix it, well, that's another matter.
2. One of the tail lights is burnt out, according to my instrument cluster.  No big deal; I've fixed it before. In fact, it might be the same light.  All I have to do is get the right bolt and unscrew four bolts.  Just have to remember which four so I waste my time or pull out the wrong thing.
3. The cold weather probably/might be the reason the automatic lock on the driver's-side door does not open when I use the button on the driver's-side door or manually turn the lock on the passenger's-side door (although it works fine if I stick my key in the driver's-side door).  Usually in extreme weather (more in the summer than in the winter, however) it's the passenger's-side door lock that won't open remotely.  Now that works fine by my door doesn't.
4. Oh, and the oil level light is coming on again.  Not really lately, but off-and-on the past couple weeks. I thought that with the engine "fixed" the oil would stay in the engine, therefore I wouldn't need to fill it up so much.  But I've put in a bottle-and-a-half last week.  It's holding, for now.  Then again, maybe the oil leaks I still see on the driveway are an indication of where the oil is going.
5. ETA: I forgot the bad new thing: I saw a new rust spot on the car.  And it's a place I wouldn't expect: On the surface, thigh level, just behind the rear driver's-side door.  Noticed it a few days ago.  How could that be?  There's a hole in the underside of the car, right underneath the driver's-side door, but I understand that because that's where snow and salt collects.  But right on the side like that?  Moreover, from the bubbling underneath the paint I can detect surrounding this spot, there probably is more, a lot more.  How long can I keep this car?

I write this post from a branch of the Ramsey County Library.  Although it has limited hours, I like this because it's the only library I know that gives me an entire (albeit small) study room to myself.  I made a call about my unemployment in here today and I feel like I'm in a Cone of Silence, even though that may be an illusion and that there are windows surrounding me on all sides.  Whatever; what matters is that I feel like I am alone.

Unfortunately on a wall there is a smear of a sizable and bloody booger.  Not to say that it compelled me to leave the room -- I've been in here more than 3 1/2 hours now -- but that's just gross.  Libraries are great, but since they're also free, they're also gross.

SHUT UP, I'LL GET SOME GODDAMN SLIPPERS, YOU HAPPY NOW, YOU PISSY MALE BITCH?!?!?!

I set my alarm for 9:45.  I thought I heard the door slam.  Hit the snooze button but couldn't fall back asleep.  The contractor (they hired a new one -- hey, let's hope this guy doesn't steal anything! [Have I blogged about that yet?]) will be here soon, so there has to be someone who's been left behind.

I get up, easily; it helps to fall asleep at 9:30, wake up at 4, then go back to sleep at around 7:30.  Looked outside to see my parents' minivan gone, but I still couldn't believe it.  That's when I heard My Fucking Father's obnoxious snort from downstairs.  Ah, so he's staying home.

I go to the bathroom to freshen up; I don't want to be home whenever My Fucking Father's home, especially when I have the energy to leave right away.  Knock on the door -- My Fucking Father stormed up the stairs as soon as I heard the pitter-patter of my little feet.  "Come out and help me," he said.

Mistake.  Big mistake.  When I got done "brushing my teeth" he said he needed my help calling a cruise ship.  All their gambling in Vegas netted my folks a free cruise to the Caribbean.  But as I was getting the landline he noticed the slippers I was wearing.  These are the ones that I took from the great Hotel Berna when we stayed for the night in Milan.  Unfortunately the left one is torn.  I think I stepped on an nail that wasn't nailed down on my way to the bathroom (courtesy of the previous thieving contractors, whom My Fucking Father hired) and it's been loose ever since.  But I've been too lazy to fix it.  Hell, My Fucking Father threw it in the trash and I fished it out to wear them -- which I was wearing when I stumbled out of the bathroom.

That's what he was reacting to when he nagged, yet fucking again, "Son, why don't you get some new slippers?"  And then he triggered some primal anger in me when he said, yet again, "You have to take care of yourself!"  HOW IN THE FUCK ARE BROKEN SLIPPERS ANY FUCKING INDICATION I DON'T KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF?!?!?!  HOW, ASSHOLE???  Didn't help that I had just realized that My Fucking Father caught me wearing the slippers he meant to throw away.

I really had it with My Fucking Father, and so I had to let him have it, contract be damned.  "If you can take care of yourself, why do you need me to call these people?!" I said to that bastard.  It has taken me a long time to develop the courage to stammer out even that, and trust me, I stumbled over some words while yelling back at him.  All that asshole could do was whine, "Do you want to call this number or not?"  I swear, at 76 (?) he is the oldest child in the world.  I get my immaturity from him.  No wonder why I never grew up to be a doctor.  I don't have the disposition.  My Fucking Father gave me his disposition (with a little help from Mother, too).

So I called and that fucker calmed down.  And just to keep the peace -- this past year I'm slowly seeing the need to just fucking do something just so the yelling stops -- is that giving in or maturity? -- I bought some fucking slippers at Target.  Slippers I didn't buy because I don't really have the money for them.  But seeing them may have mollified My Fucking Father.  But it would not shock me at all if he keeps me yelling at him, really yelling at him for the first time since The Contract, in his back pocket in order to use it against me when I wasn't expecting it down the road.  It'd be totally like him.  See, My Fucking Father gave me his ability to hold grudges, too.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: 0).  This was a tough week to pick a top team.  These guys and the wrestling squad had smashing performances, good enough to rise above negative territory.  In the end, I had to roll with the team that was "above below" last week because they didn't do anything wrong besides coming from behind late in Friday's game against Alaska-Anchorage with the help of a gift major/game misconduct on the Seawolves' Tyler Currier for checking, I think, Nick Bjugstad from behind even though Bjugstad was turning his way when the check happened.

That was a blip, although it was a close call, too.  I think a more accurate image of this club came in their other two wins: a no-doubt 7-1 ass-kicking of UAA Saturday and, in a 1-vs.-2/3 matchup that should have been much closer than what happened, they put away Notre Dame in a special non-conference midweek contest 4-1.  I was at that game, and the Gophers looked a lot better than the Irish.  Maybe the Irish are overrated?  Possibly, but barring injury, at their best, the U. will be a prime contender to win it all.  Seriously, y'all, they're that good.

They put up their #1 ranking and continue their eight-game homestand this weekend with something kind of special: The last series against North Dakota as members of the Western Collegiate Hockey Association.  You know, I think most of the fans there are racist, or at least clueless in thinking the "Fighting Sioux" nickname wasn't insensitive to Native Americans.  But I'll miss those guys.  I don't know if I like this hockey realignment.  Games are Friday and Saturday, per usual.

#0: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -4).  Seems as if this team only has issues with programs ranked above them or a spot below them -- Penn St., Oklahoma St., Iowa.  If the school is ranked at least two spots below them, they seem to roll over them.  Take, for example, Ohio St., who were ranked fifth according to a poll.  In the same poll, the U. was third, and there was no upset in Columbus Friday.  Boy, there wasn't: 25-9.  Indiana is ranked much lower, and no home cooking didn't stop Minnesota from pinning three Hoosier wrestlers on their way to a 41-3 demolition.  It feels great to see a program that can regularly go into hostile territory and win easily.  Not many programs can do that.

The Gophers, ranked fourth according to InterMat, will come home for the first of three straight duals on campus.  The first comes Monday vs. Illinois, ranked eighth on InterMat.

#-1: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -3).  More wins than losses so far into the Big Ten season -- that's a good thing.  In their only contest this screening week, the squad pulled away from Minnesota native Tayler Hill (she of the "ETATS OIHO" school announcement debacle) in the first half and held on to beat Ohio St. in their home conference opener, 83-74.

They are now 13-4 overall, which, if the trends hold, should result in at least a WNIT bid.  That's progress, right?  ESPN's Charlie Creme, for one (actually he may be the only one because I don't know another bracketologist specializing in women's college basketball) has the Goofs as one of the "First Four Out."  Actually that should be the "Last Four Out."  Saying "First Four Out" is like saying the selection committee decided the U.'s fairly good record is one of the first teams they could eliminate from discussions.  It's a big pet peeve of mine. 

This week: at Purdue, then home to Nebraska.

#-2: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -1).  No, there are no moral victories, especially for teams that have talent.  But I've got to say, I am more impressed with the way the club came roaring back from 23 down at halftime to scare the living hell out of Indiana in their loss Saturday than I am in their 84-67 victory in Illinois earlier in the screening week.  If you could only imagine, down three and after that Indiana player blew both free throws, that Trevor Mbakwe could have corralled that rebound and they come down to drain a three-pointer to tie the game.  Assembly Hall would be in shock.  Unfotunately Mbakwe somehow went to his side and totally missed the loose ball.  Another Hoosier was there to collect the ball, and he made his free throws to put the game away, 88-81.

But with their ability to score in bunches, their defensive intensity, their focus and their belief in never giving up, never ever giving up, I hope they learned a lot from the loss.  They could have just quit the game; instead, they knew they had the talent to come back.  Turns out it was too big of a hole to climb out of, but you have to consider that Indiana shot over 66% (?) in the first half.  Really, they were one rebound away from what could have been an historic comeback -- and on the road against the fifth-ranked team in the nation, no less. I hope Tubby Smith emphasized to this team what they almost accomplished and what they did accomplish in getting to that point.  If they take this to heart and are able to implement that team chemistry throughout the season ... shit, the sky's the limit, you know?

One game for the week, but it's a big one, a huge one: They host #5 Michigan Thursday.  This could have been a case of #1 visiting #2 had the Gophers won that game in Indiana and if Michigan was able to pull out a win at Ohio St. Sunday.  Neither happened, nevertheless this will be the first game at Williams Arena between teams both ranked in the Top 10 since 1977, when the U. (ranked tenth at the time, ninth now) hosted, coincidentally, Michigan (also ranked fifth then).  I want to go to the game, but tickets will probably be sold on the street for at least $50, so I think I'll pass.

#-3: Swarm (Re-Entry!).  They're back!  And they began the season with a come-from-ahead loss!!  They were leading at Buffalo 10-7 when David Earl (was he on the team last year?) socred 2:31 into the fourth quarter.  But the Bandits stormed back to tie the game at 12 with about 4 1/2 minutes left to go, and 23 seconds after they tied the game, Buffalo's Dhane Smith scored to win the game.  Ooh-boy, what a way to start your season.

The Smarm have 13 days to lick their wounds from this loss.  They seem to be getting their byes out of the way; they didn't play in Week 1 (even though all but two of the nine teams in the National Lacrosse League didn't play Week 1) and they won't be playing Week 3.  By the way, Captain Andrew Suitor had to sit out this game and will sit out the next game (in Toronto January 25) for a game misconduct penalty last season.  Wow, a game misconduct means you're suspended two games?  That's a big punishment.  Maybe even disproportionate.

#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5).  This season is rapidly going sideways, if not downhill, for our Woofie Dogs.  After a close win at Tar-zhay against Atlanta, they hit the road the rest of the week and were beaten all four games.  Moreover, Kevin Love has become a true injury liability: His hand, the one he broke before the season, he re-broke in a game against Denver on the 3rd and will need to have surgery on it.  He'll be out 8-10 weeks, so he'll return in time for playoffs ... if the Timberwolves make the playoffs (duh-duh-DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!!!!!!!!!!!!).

For a team whose management acted like they're all-in on this season, playoffs or bust, the outcome could not have been more disastrous.  I thought that with both Love and Ricky Rubio not available at 100% from the start you needed to give yourself some latitude this season.  But David Kahn and Rick Adelman boxed themselves into a corner.  If they're true to their word, this is a debacle of a season and you need to blow up the team.  Is that what's going to happen?

Oh well, at least we have the Mild back.  This week: home to The Bastard Buffalo Braves and Houston, then at Atlanta.

Thanks For The Pageviews, I Guess

I have noticed a slight uptick -- very slight -- in the number of people that are looking at my entries on Wailing And Failing.  When I started no one saw them, and it's been that way virtually all, oh, three years and 11 months I've been doing this.  Now there have been several blog posts that have touched somewhat of a nerve: As you can see on my homepage the most views (and comments, which are even rarer) are for a time when I was venting about the new online player for satellite radio.  But by no means am I, uh, a blogger who can quit his full-time job (I don't have a job) and do this all day.

Things kind of changed lately.  More and more posts have received double-digit hits.  Seriously, y'all, if a post of mine gets ten views, I'm happy as a clam.  And, possibly, talking about the downward turn of health and eventual death of Uncle may have hit a nerve with several of you, since those posts were the first time I've reached 20 views in quite some time.

But goddammit, I can't believe that 150 different people found my previous post about the nightmare I had about eating soup out of my parents' store's filthy-ass toilet to be so riveting that they've told other people about it.  And let me be realistic: The people who have seen all the other blog posts I've written here that have gotten more than, oh, three views are probably guys from Russia or Brazil trying to mine some personal information in order to get my Social Security Number and hack my checking account.  I hope it counts when it comes to getting money from AdSense, but really, guys, 150??  I'm not that good.

Nightmare

At The Store -- Buddha bless it!! -- there are two bathrooms.  One of them is the "employee" bathroom.  It's behind where the cash register is, in the middle of The Store.  There's also a small room attached to it, and for the longest time there was a lounge chair in there.  So if we got bored (when we were young) my brother and I would sleep there.  And later, when there was nothing to do, Father (I assume) would go in there and take a nap.

The toilet in there is a sty.  It hasn't been cleaned in ... honestly, I would guess it never had a thorough cleaning since The Store opened.  Day One.  I wanted to do that while my parents were gone, but them cutting their wintering in Las Vegas scuttled those plans.

Dude, you should see it.  The bowl is dirty, but the worst part are the rings of calcium and rust built up at the waterline.  I've used some cleaner where I just let it sit in the toilet bowl, not brush it, and it took off peels of that limey buildup, kind of like peeling an orange.  But much of it remains.

Anyway, this morning I had this nightmare where I was eating soup out of it.

No, I don't have too many details.  I don't know how that nightmare began.  I might have been able to "take" the bowl with me as I ate at different places.  All I remember from this morning's nightmare is that this toilet was almost as dirty as the one at The Store, and I was eating soup out of it.

I just ate some cereal.  Typing those past two paragraphs makes me want to vomit.

I Don't Like The T-Mobile Girl Now That She's All Scowly

This has been eating away at me for some time, and now that I can't think up anything else to talk about, I'll blog about this now:

I have had T-Mobile all my life.  Check that ... when I was in El Paso I bought my first cellphone, through VoiceStream, which eventually was bought out by T-Mobile.  I know a lot of people complain about them, but I have totally been happy with them.  I think you get good service through T-Mobile in the Twin Cities area, I appreciate the lower price tiers compared to the other three big carriers, and I have never been hit with the service and customer service bugaboos others have with them.

But I do have a gripe about T-Mobile's spokesperson/mascot.  She's that beautiful woman (real name: Carly Foulkes) who landed the role in 2010.  You remember her in pink (actually, according to T-Mobile, it's magenta) summer dresses, a broad smile and chipper copy designed to push the product?  I do.  You think she's hot?  I think she's hot.





But other mean carriers, like Virgin Mobile, thought Carly ripe for parody.  I remember one commercial in 2011 (sorry, can't find it on YouTube and the one ad I wanted to use I couldn't embed from the non-YouTube site) made her look stupid and vapid.  If you remember the stand-in, I actually thought that rip-off looked like a taller Rachel Bilson.

Unfortunately, to me it seemed like T-Mobile reacted to the pot shots.  When they introduced their new 4G service a little bit after the send-up spots, they decided to dramatically change Carly's persona, from a happy waif to a badass:





I hate it.  I fucking hate it.  It's not like I'm going to drop T-Mobile because they changed their advertising strategy; I don't think I'm influenced by commercials at all.  But Old Carly was a perfectly inoffensive and cute spokeswoman, and it looks like the company thought that was bad.

To me, the New Carly is unapproachable, angry and kind of nasty.  It's like Old Carly decided to finally have sex with her boyfriend, and he took it a little too far -- pulling her hair, trying to stick his dick into her ass, not cuddling, shit like that -- and when he left her apartment, she got all confused, then cried the whole night for allowing it to happen, then immediately turned into a bitter, non-smiling bitch.  That's why she dropped the dress and shoved herself into that leather get-up in that "Alter Ego" ad.

And I really don't think this new direction helps T-Mobile, either.  So you now have this hot chick riding in a Ducati fast and flying around in a helicopter fast to show that their 4G is fast.  I have no idea if it truly is -- my God, I still use a flip phone -- but their new ad strategy looks like that of a lot of other products that uses speed, the night and aerial shots of big cities to show that their -- oh, cars or insurance policies or fracking methods or deodorant sticks -- are fast and the new thing and hot shit, basically.  Ridicule Old Carly and her Pollyannish disposition all you want.  At least that was unique.

I don't ever remember a company sticking with (let alone implementing) an ad campaign that radically changed their mascot like T-Mobile has.  If you're going to switch the tone and perception of your brand image from sunny to sleek, you might as well dump the mascot, too.  But they're not, and in my humble opinion, it's both a mistake and, well, really sad.

I think I would've liked Old Carly.  She seemed nice, yet sensible enough to pick the right cellphone carrier.

Expenses Without Receipts

Since yesterday, Thursday, January 10, 2013:

• Have to go back to Tuesday the 8th. ...  For the first time since before I started my temp job, I watched a movie, Jack Reacher.  It has a jaunty style and deceptively radical tone changes -- some of it worked, some didn't.  But the cinematography was great.  The centerpiece chase scene is as awesome (and CGI-free!!) as a centerpiece should be, but the opening scene, a silent view through a sniper's gunsight, is also great.  Eighties sensibilities is rife throughout this movie.  The one thing that keeps bothering me after watching is that very few of the pieces match up.  I still don't get how the bad guy got away with the initial murders.  And I still don't know how Jack Reacher just happens to show up at the right time.  Just because there wouldn't be a movie if he didn't, I guess.  B.  Oh, the price of a movie ticket at this place bumped up a quarter, but it's still Stimulus Tuesday, which means a small popcorn and Coke are still $1.50 each.  Total: $8.25.
• ETA that I totally forgot what I did Tuesday evening: Go to the University of Minnesota men's hockey 1 vs. 2 or 1 vs. 3 (depending on which poll you use) against Notre Dame, which turned out to be a 4-1 ass-kicking.  Unfortunately I used up every single dollar in my wallet after scalping a ticket and buying a program, so I had to resort to using my credit card to buy my food.  The ticket cost $40!!!  Add the $4 program and you obviously get to: $44.
• Monday the 7th ... parked my ass all day at a library.  They have a coffee shop, one I haven't been to in ages.  Coffee with tip is -- um, I totally forget, so I'm totally taking a shot in the dark: $2.25.
• Saturday, January 5th: Only EWR is a tip for washing my car.  Had to use my credit card for everything else that day.  Man, the next statement is going to fucking hurt: $2.
• And then that night I got around to signing the sympathy card I got for Aunt and Uncle's children.  As my other uncle told me, I put in some money: $30.
• Friday the 4th ... Caffetto.  Man, what the fuck did I get?  I think that was the day I freaked out over my expenses, so I'm guessing I went for coffee instead of a mocha ... no, I had the mocha.  After I ordered I remember sauntering back to my computer to see if it was fully booted up yet, and I lingered at my laptop for a while.  I might have gotten a small mocha, though.  With tip: $6.50.
• Wednesday the 2nd was the day I went to pick up my car and stopped at the coffeeshop next door to cool my heels until I saw Uncle.  With tip for coffee -- oh, I'll say: $2.25.

I spent a lot the past week, but apparently I have receipts for all of them.  Caught up to the 10th.

My Fucking Father Threw Away Drinks I Wasn't Going To Drink!!

When I was Caffetto a couple months ago some guy sauntered in with an entire case of these rectangular pouch drinks, kind of like the old Hi-C juice boxes.

I asked what they were.  Rice milk, he said.  I don't know how he procured an entire box of rice milk juice boxes; I'm not going to pry.  But he encouraged me to take some.  Rice milk is healthy -- says so on the box.  So I took three.

One problem: There is no mini-straw stuck to the back of each box, like the Hi-C ones did.  I did not notice this when I brought them home, I think.  Luckily, I had mini-straws in the house.  Just days before, reacting to a cold weather-induced cough that I couldn't shake, Mother brought home some Chinese medicine.  The doses were encased in vials and put in a box ... with a set of mini-straws.  Buddha works in mysterious ways.

So I dug into the box of Chinese medicine vials, punctured the rice milk box with it, drank ... and kind of threw up a little in my mouth.  It wasn't wretched, but it just tasted ... bland.  Ever cook rice?  You have to add water before you cook it.  Well, imagine that you let the rice sit in the water uncooked, then strained out the rice and drank the water.  It'd have a faint rice taste, but otherwise it'd taste like water.  It's a whole lotta nothing, and what it has besides water is just yucky enough to ruin what was merely inoffensive.

But I finished the box, and since I brought these damn things home, I resolved to drink the other two boxes.  Just give me a day or two to get the aftertaste out of my mouth.  But a night or two later, I noticed that my folks took away the box of medicine.  The cough cleared, so they thought they should put them away somewhere.  They didn't know that I was using the straws for the rice milk in the refrigerator I still had to drink.  But because I didn't like it, I didn't ask them where they put the medicine.  I just ... let the boxes stay there.

And they stayed there while my folks went to Las Vegas for the winter.  Sometimes, when I opened the fridge door and saw the boxes staring at me, I would replay how it tasted, and I reminded myself that I would need a straw to drink them.  But did I try to find a straw, or a way to drink the rice milk?  No.  So I grabbed what I wanted to take out of the fridge and shut the door.

Well, tonight I went to the kitchen to make myself a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich, and I saw both rice milk boxes in the garbage.  My Fucking Father probably saw the two boxes (which were in front and to the right on the top shelf, very prominent), remembered seeing them from before they left, and decided that if I wasn't going to consume them, he'd throw them away.

Typical Father: Throwing shit away without at least consulting me.  But I have to admit, he's right.  I don't like wasting food, but after trying it once I was in no mood to try it again, so I'm not hankering to get it out of the garbage.  Besides, My Fucking Father threw a lot of other nasty garbage shit on top of it, and I'm not going to fish the rice milk out of that.  I should be mad, I could try to get back at him, but ... come on, those rice milk juice boxes were just going to sit in the refrigerator until someone did something to them.  Someone not me.

I. Am. Screwed.

So today I returned the voicemail of my contact at the temp agency who snagged me this billing job that I was furloughed from a few weeks ago.  My supervisor said that he'll give an answer as to when I should expect to be brought back by ... well, last Friday.

I asked my contact about that and he said, "Oh, they're OK with everything for now.  That may change in the future, but they're set for right now."

Oh, I know what he meant by that: That means that they didn't want me anymore, and instead they hired back the other temp.  So that was all a lie, huh?  You guys liked me, but then dumped me?  Were you guys really saying, "Well, you're a temp, so we have to say we like you to your face, but deep down we think you're not as good as the other guy?"

The bad thing is is that I was kind of assuming they'd hire me back.  In fact, I was kind of relying on the money.  Now I have five weeks to find $2,000 to pay for the car repairs I had done over the holiday break.

For the first time in a long time, I am in serious danger of having no money.  I used to fret about not having money, but that was only in the checking account.  I have money in stocks and CDs.  But now, because of the car and the work taking out from under me, I am, seriously, in danger of having no money.

I.  Am.  Screwed.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

(Note: For 2013, the WMNSS will appear on Tuesdays to reflect, hopefully, the previous seven days.  We always start the first survey of the year on the 8th of January.  Since there are 365-6 days every year, we fail to include the last couple or few days of the previous year, so the first survey incorporates games played since Sunday, December 30.)

POSITIVE NUMBERS FOREVER!!! (tie): Concordia-St. Paul and St. Thomas women's volleyball (Re-Entry and New, respectively).  Dude, I totally forgot these two championship teams, the former of whom won almost a month ago, the latter just shortly after Thanksgiving.  Better late than never.

Oh, if only the Gopher women's volleyball team was able to win the Division I NCAA women's volleyball title.  Then, probably for the first time ever, the women's volleyball champs in all three divisions would hail from the same metropolitan area.  In fact, according to a poster on Volley Talk, he or she would have been able to boast that he or she could walk to the home gyms of all three winners.  That would be sweet.

Nevertheless, congratulations to both small schools for reinforcing the image of Minnesota being a volleyball hotbed.  Also, props to both teams for searching within themselves and gutting out incredible comebacks.

Let's start with St. Thomas, my brother's alma mater.  They were in Holland, Mich. for the Division III Women's Final Four, and they were facing Calvin College, a school based in Grand Rapids, only 37 miles from the DeVos Fieldhouse on Hope College's campus, so the Tommies were going into hostile territory.  And they were down on the mat, losing the first two sets at 13 and 17 in front of an announced crowd of 3,517, most of them obviously rooting for them to lose.

And yet, the team and Head Coach Thanh Pham (wow, a Vietnamese head coach?!?!) found one final reserve of resolve and not only won the last three sets but beat down the Knights while doing so; St. Thomas held Calvin to 18, 16 and 9 points as they won their first title in women's volleyball.  And they finished their season on a 35-match winning streak.

The Concordia-St. Paul Golden Bears also came back from 2-0 down to win the Division II title in Pensacola, Fla.  They beat Tampa to win, get this, their sixth consecutive volleyball championship.  That's a record in Division II women's volleyball and ties Washington-St. Louis (of Division III) for most women's volleyball titles in a row in all divisions.  Brady Starkey's team bested St. Thomas by finishing their year winning their last 36 games.  And poor Tampa: This is the third straight year the Golden Bears have eliminated them in the Division II Final Four: They were swept in last year's semifinals in San Bernadino, Calif., and the Spartans were knocked off by the Bears in four sets in the 2010 title game in Louisville.  Say this for Tampa, however: Their matchup with Concordia was closer than the St. Thomas win over Calvin: 27-29, 17-25, 25-23, 25-23, 16-14.

Congratulations to both teams!

#0: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -2).  When I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) and saw the score, I couldn't believe it.  I was talking to a guy working there who couldn't believe it either, and he thought Boston College was giving the Gophers the game just to lull them into a sense of complacency.  I don't know if you can play mind games with an opponent three months before the Frozen Four.  Regardless, I am convinced that both teams have a good chance to make it.

And credit to the U., 4th in the nation (at least according to the USA Today/USA Hockey Magazine poll) for one hell of a win on the 30th, beating the ever-living shit out of the then-top-ranked team in the nation, the Golden Eagles, 8-1 to cap the Mariucci Classic.  Man, they were scoring goals with a frequency that leads you to believe if they scored enough, some of them might count in their meeting in last year's Frozen Four semifinal, where Boston College manhandled the Gophers 6-1.

The rout could be explained by the power play: Minnesota scored four of its goals on the eight power plays they received (and they scored their final goal shorthanded).  While the Gophers had four minor calls, B.C.'s eight penalties totaled 27 minutes, most of them accounted for by a contact to the head major/game misconduct by Michael Sit just 53 seconds from the end of the second period.  Frustration?  The U. was up 4-0 at that point.  And by the way, the Gophers took every single spot on the All-Tournament Team.  I've never seen that before.  Shoot, I don't think that's ever happened before.  With those All-Tournament Teams you want to spread the wealth.

With that win, Minnesota is now the #1 team in the land -- joining, by the way, the Gopher women's hockey juggernaut atop Division I Hockey Nation.  But they have one hell of a game tonight (Tuesday night): A date at Mariucci against Notre Dame.  The Fighting Irish are ranked third in the USA Today/USA Hockey Magazine poll and second in the USCHO.com poll.  Whatever the number, this should be a highly anticipated match between two of the best teams playing today.  And it's also a chance to avenge a loss on home ice to this team just a year and a day ago, 4-3.  I plan on going, and I hope I get a ticket that doesn't make me much poorer than I already am.

#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Re-Entry!).  Warily, I am starting to believe.  I don't know if Tubby Smith's teams have ever gotten out to a great start in conference play, but they can't do much better than going 2-0 at home, beating Michigan St. New Year's Eve and Northwestern Sunday.  Besides the stellar play of Andre Hollins and their tenacious rebounding (at least on the offensive glass), I am convinced that this is the best ever of Tubby's squads because of the different ways they won both games.

The Spartans ripped off a 15-3 run early in the second half to lead the Gophers 59-54.  But for the first time in what seems like ever in the Smith era, in the final seven minutes of the game the U. responded with an 18-2 run to rally past and then blow out Michigan St. 76-63.  Somewhat conversely, they were leading the Wildcats at the half by the anemic score of 17-14.  Somehow, they scored 52 points in the second half, keyed mostly by Austin Hollins (Andre's brother) draining five three-pointers in three-and-a-half minutes, to put away Northwestern 69-51.  They now sit on a ten-game winning streak, their longest in four years.  And they have risen to #8 in the Associated Press Top 25.

Now the rubber meets the road, literally: They play their first two games in the B-1-G away from the Barn, both against ranked, high-quality opponents: at Illinois Wednesday, at Indiana Saturday.

#-2: Wild (Re-Entry!).  I will say that with the possible exception of the reigning Stanley Cup champion Los Angeles Kings, no other NHL franchise should be more thankful that they're finally going to fucking play.  Owner Craig Leipold -- touted by some players who were involved with the discussions to hammer out a new Collective Bargaining Agreement as a hard-liner/hardass -- shelled out about $200 million dollars to bring in Zach Parise and Ryan Suter and, at the same time, turn the complexion of this franchise in order to, let's face it, save the franchise.  Their money is guaranteed, so it does him no favors if they're stay-at-home dads instead of making money for him on the ice.  And what's the use of capitalizing on the fans' excitement if they can't even watch them play?  Shit, since half the season is over, maybe their interest has already waned.

I don't know if a shortened season helps or hurts the Mild.  On one hand, maybe the talented Parise and Suter gives the team a better chance than others to win without having time to gel.  On the other hand, there have been players who've been playing overseas: Are they sharp or tired?  And the Edmonton Oilers have had several of their young players together in their AAA affiliate in Oklahoma City.  Should they be considered Stanley Cup favorites?  And regardless of all of this, how much credence can you put into a bastardized 48-game season where teams might have to play up to four games a week and deal with back-to-backs?  This actually might be worse than a full 82-game season.

Lastly, I have looked over many NHL writers who have trotted out the tried-and-true "winners and losers" over the end of the lockout.  All of them point out that the fans are the #1 losers.  But those writers also conjecture about if the fans will want to see hockey back.  The Southern cities might hate the NHL, or worse, not care, or worst of all, not even realize there wasn't a hockey season at all.  But the die-hard franchises, the ones where snow actually falls, including Minnesota -- well, they've breathed a sigh of relief and will welcome back the league with open arms.  Which is kind of pathetic, if you think about it; we want to see hockey, and they've just gone through their second lengthy stoppage in eight years, and now they want us to take them back?  Minnesota will, maybe because we want to see Leipold's expensive acquisitions, maybe because we're suckers.

The details still need to be hammered out and approved by ownership and labor, but assuming they are formalities, the season will finally begin on the 19th.

#-3: Gopher women's basketball (Re-Entry!).  Hmmm ... a 2-1 screening week that showed some good things, some bad.  First, they ground out an 88-81 win over Creighton at the Barn in double overtime.  I have no idea how good or bad the Bluejays are, but a win is a win.  Then they got crushed at Michigan St. by 15 to start their conference schedule.  The Spartans are a good program, so they put the Goofs in their place.  But they then beat Wisconsin in Madison by 5.  I don't think they're at the caliber of a Michigan St., but usually this team can't win on the road.  What gives?  Can't say.  One game this week: Their home conference opener against Ohio St. Thursday.

#-4: Gopher wrestling (Re-Entry!).  The grapplers participated again in the annual Southern Scuffle in Chattanooga, Tenn. the first two days of the year.  And the Goofs, ranked third in the country, finished fourth in the tournament, besides the best team in the land, Penn St., the school quickly coalescing the spot behind the Nittany Lions, Oklahoma St., and a surprise showing from Missouri.  Because they finished one spot lower than their ranking and none of their players won in their class, I have to ding them.  I expect more from them, and I'm guessing Head Coach J Robinson does too.

Intermat rankings now put them in fourth, same as their finish in the Scuffle, behind Penn St., Oklahoma St., and Iowa.  And with Heavyweight Tony Nelson losing his #1 ranking in his weight class to Dominique Bradley of the Tigers after Bradley beat him in the Scuffle final (thus breaking Nelson's 40-match winning streak), the U. has no wrestler tops in the nation.

They resume B1G play on the road this weekend: at Ohio St. (a team that's nipping on the Gophers' heels in the polls) Friday, then at Indiana Sunday.

#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3).  The team has changed its splash page to showcase this thing called "The Playoff Pledge," a pep talk/level of expectation coming from the source to which we give our money/threat/reminder to buy more tickets.  Bad timing to display that this week; after going 1-2, they are now tied for tenth place in the West.  A pledge to miss the playoffs might be more apt.

After learning that Kevin Love and Ricky Rubio were going to start the season injured, there was a decent chance that they would miss the playoffs.  But seeing how they fast-tracked their returns to the court, they should be fucking better than this.  Turns out that maybe both Love and Rubio got back too quickly, because they are now injured again.  Love in particular has been a problem; he has not been the rebounding machine that he was last year ever since he busted his hand "doing knuckle push-ups."  More and more it seems as if David Kahn's decision not to give him a max contract was wise.

I will say that the victory, on the road against Denver, where the Nuggets lost for only the second time this season, was a gritty one.  Without Rubio and with Love leaving in the middle of the third quarter after spraining his finger (an injury from which he has yet to come back from), Guard back-ups Luke Ridnour, J.J. Barea and Alexey Shved stepped up, especially in the fourth quarter; Ridnour had 14 points, Shved and Barea led all scorers with 17, and Barea finished with a +/- of +20 (although Dante Cunningham finished with a +22 while playing 27 minutes to Barea's 25).  Sadly, that win was sandwiched between losses at Utah and home to Portland.

An impossibly busy five-game schedule this week: A back-to-back vs. Atlanta and at Oklahoma City today (Tuesday) and tomorrow (Wednesday), then they complete a four-game road trip at New Orleans Friday, in San Antonio Sunday and at Dallas Monday.

#-Infinity: Vikings (Last Week: -1).  I don't know about you.  But when Jasper Brinkley (or is that Jamarca Samford?  I don't care to look) failed to get off the field in time before Green Bay snapped the ball for a field goal and thus was called for a second devastating 12 men on the field penalty for the second straight playoff game, that's when I turned off the TV.  My Father (turns out my Mother too, My Fucking Father didn't tell me they both were coming home for Uncle's funeral, thank you very much) was coming home; my time would be better spent cleaning the house.

OK, two things I don't get.  If the read option they employed on the opening drive of their season-ending playoff loss in Green Bay Saturday turned out to be the best drive of the game, why in the fuck did they abandon it?  Were they so intent on sticking to their gameplan after Christian Ponder shocking was deactivated hours before the game that they decided they weren't going to deviate from it?  At some point -- halftime, third quarter, some fucking time before the game was over -- Leslie Frazier had to decide that even if they allowed the offense to play playground football, that improvising would have been better than the trainwreck that was happening throughout that game.

The other thing, and much more complexing: How in the fuckety-fuck did Joe Webb turn to shit?  I was convinced that Webb could have been a serviceable starting Quarterback in the NFL.  Six weeks ago most of the Purple Faithful would have preferred Webb to Christian Ponder.  And now it's the other way around.  Now, he isn't a pocket passer, so he wasn't allowed to use his strengths, which is rolling out/bootlegging (that's where Ponder is at his best too, come to think of it).  But Webb was able to, you know, complete throws in the win last year in Washington as well as in Philadelphia the year before.  Here ... he was bouncing passes like he couldn't throw the football overhand.  It's absolutely strange to me.

And here I thought that not only could the Vikings win, they could've won the Super Bowl.  That team embarrassed themselves and the entire state after that steaming pile of crap that was the game.  I should be pleased with them finishing 10-6 after a 3-13 season, proving everyone wrong by winning four very tough games in a row to end the regular season and reach the playoffs, and producing a legendary, doubt-he'll-repeat-that performance from Adrian Peterson, whom I could back for NFL Most Valuable Player.  But since they didn't win a championship, it feels like a failure.  And in the NFL, how do you know you're going to have another chance to make the playoffs, let alone win the Lombardi Trophy?