Last night, after a long day where my supervisor, whom I thought was cool, basically ripped all of us new one, and after I needed to blow off steam after retrieving the car I spent too much for and wasn't repaired to my specifications (and had this extremely frightening incident where the car was not able to accelerate past 10 miles per hour until I stepped on the gas for 15 seconds), and after I saw Draft Day on special Tuesday prices (verdict: Kevin Costner slowly gets better as the Cleveland Browns General Manager deciding who to pick on the day of the NFL Draft; it's a low-grade fever version of High Noon, but I liked it, even if I'm sure the NFL footed much of the budget), I go home.
Get a phone call, around 10 in the evening. Guess who it is? My Fucking Father. He never just calls me just to say hi; he never gives a shit about anyone, he just asks for something. I no longer dilly-dally either; I just start in with, "What do you want?"
"I need you to send me my pills," My Fucking Father said. When he and Mother packed up for Las Vegas a few weeks ago he forgot his Ambien. This in spite of the fact that he cannot function without his Ambien. He's addicted to Ambien, I know it. A couple weeks ago he told me to send over his pills. I didn't know what to do; I've never sent pills through the mail before. Plus, I didn't want the bottle to be crushed and he told me the pills needed to be as secure as possible and wrapped in a bag (Walgreen's preferably).
This was a Saturday. I was starting my night shift job on Monday, so unless I wanted to go after hours all the way to the post office at the airport at 11 o'clock at night, I was going to do it that afternoon, in the next two hours. So I improvised. He wanted only a month's worth, but I poured all but ten of those pills (in case he needed some when he comes back) into an old bag that was mine, folded that up tightly, taped it to the inside of a regular envelope, and sent it through the mail. You could hear the sound of pills if you shake it and listen closely, but I thought that would be good enough.
Well, apparently the United States Post Office confiscated it or something because Father was pissed off. I could tell that as he accused me of "not listening. I told you to put it in a big envelope, and you didn't!"
Before I dissect his rant, I should say that he accuses people all the time. What he likes to do is degrade other people (usually family members) whenever he's talking to other people. My Fucking Father, for example, told me in a phone call when he was in Vegas that he asked my brother to do something and he didn't do it to his liking and so he described him as "stupid." I'm sure that he's said the same of me when My Fucking Father calls him.
OK. I said, "You never said anything about a big envelope!" Actually, now that I think about it, he probably did. I don't understand how a big envelope changes things, though, and besides, how in the hell would he know if I didn't send it in a big envelope? Maybe I did send it in a big envelope and the post office still saw something suspicious and opened it up? (After his juvenile meltdown I looked up sending prescription medication through the mail; some people suggest sending the whole bottle to let the USPS know it's being sent to the same name while others recommend Federal Express or UPS, but a lot of people say to just send it however you want -- which is what I did.) While I allow for, considering the overall war I need to continue to wage against him, a little white lie, I nevertheless still contend that he has absolutely no fucking idea what he's talking about.
So as I gallop down the stairs to grab the bottle containing the rest of the Ambien I would need to send the next day (which is Thursday, today) I, from the safety of wireless signals and almost 2,000 miles, and tell him as such. "OK," as I summoned up my courage, "I will send you the rest of your Ambien pills in a big envelope, but you did not say send it in a big envelope." He tried to interject in order to take control of the converstation, but I dodge his parries to the side and go for what really is at the bottom of all of his verbal abuse: His addiction to his sleeping pills.
"Wow, I don't understand what kind of bullshit you're talking out of your mouth again, but you said nothing about an envelope. I sent the pills, I have no control over what happens to them once I send it, but you said nothing about no envelope. Once again, you have no idea what you're talking about. This is all in your head. This is in your head, again."
To which My Fucking Father replied, "Fine!" That usually means that he's going to angrily end the call, so I just looked at my phone and saw that, yep, he ended the call. I was wrong, but he didn't know it. And for the first time in a long time -- maybe ever -- I shouted him down in a conversation.
And yet I couldn't help but think about that call all day through work. And my eyes got watery a little.
---
Now I wonder if he's going to get back at me once he comes home. Then again, maybe he just wants his Ambien. I went to the downtown Minneapolis post office to drop off the rest of his stash. There's your fucking Ambien, old man, it'll be there Saturday. I guess. Oh, and a piece of advice: If you need something this badly, you probably should remember to pack it in your luggage. One to grow on, motherfucker.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Wild (Last Week: -2). This week is kind of weird. One team swept, the other won three-of-four, but yet I decided to give first place to a team that's one win away from the end of its season?
Guess so. They did win two-of-three, which is better than being under .500. But I'm putting the Wild up first because they are in the middle of what has shaped up to be a very good playoff series. Sure, it's kind of upsetting that the club blew yet another late lead to Colorado after Head Coach Patrick Roy put an extra skater on the ice, the second time the Mild has blown a lead. But I am certain that this club can stand up toe-to-toe with The Bastard Quebec Nordiques. And I'm not saying that I feel confident, let alone saying that they'll win, but the two blown leads do at least indicate that they won't piss down their legs and completely melt down. No, they just wait until the end to do that. But if they can grab the lead and respond to the extra attacker by finally getting an empty net goal, they can win tonight (Wednesday night).
You know, right now I'm feeling kind of psyched for a Game 7. Win or lose, they've held serve and battled as far as a series can go. Hopefully I'll be able to enjoy the game, and win, dining out.
#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). A confident sweep at home (featuring the first-ever night games at Siebert Field) against Penn St. Back-to-back shutouts, the Nittany Lions only scored on Friday night, and the combined run total: 18-1. RHP Neal Kunik is the Big Ten Co-Pitcher Of The Week for allowing only three hits while striking out nine in seven scoreless innings in the Gophers' 12-0 shellacking Sunday afternoon. It was only Kulik's second start in college.
Meanwhile, the midweek one-off last Wednesday, against Hamline, was postponed due to weather. Meanwhile, this Wednesday game (aka today) is against Bethel, which was suddenly scheduled after it was determined that their original opponent that day, St. Thomas, would not be able to reschedule. After that there is a special series: The Gophers travel down to Tallahassee, Fla. to face Heisman Trophy winner Jameis Winston and top 10-ranked Florida St. for a three-game series this weekend.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -1). Normally I would say that when this team has back-to-back rainouts, that's a good week. But I won't say that about the Twinks, at least not now. They are actually not horrid so far this year, flirting with .500 on the strength of nice surprises Brian Dozier, Trevor Plouffe and Chris Colabello and an offense with some pop. The pitching still needs some work, but nevertheless they took the last two games of a three-game series in Tampa, then split two games at home against Detroit before Sunday's rainout. A 3-1 record with two rainouts, especially when last Tuesday began a stretch of 23 straight games against teams that technically reached the playoffs? A promising start, and one where I wouldn't have minded seeing them try to win the series against the Tigers and am still wondering how they'd fare against the Dodgers, the first game in a series against them being rained out last (Tuesday) night. After playing Los Angeles as many times as possible while avoiding the current biblical rainstorm we're under, they host Baltimore over the weekend before starting a three-game series in Cleveland.
#-Infinity: Swarm (Last Week: -4). Yeah, I touched on the Smarm in a previous blog post, but I'll expound here, unfortunately. I saw what I still believe is the last game ever before the Swarm fold. And unfortunately I think I saw the last game of the worst team in Smarm history. Seriously.
They lost to Toronto 8-6, but if you were at the game, you would wonder how the score was that close. Early in the second quarter the Rock scored their only two goals in that period in seven seconds. And early in the third they scored their only three goals in that period in the first four minutes. The Swarm tried to rally, outscoring Toronto in the final stanza 4-1, but you'd wonder how in the hell did they become so competent after the clown show they put up the first 45 minutes. This team had problems doing the most fundamental things, things like scoring, passing, ball-handling, not turning the ball over, running, hustle, shit liking that. The Swarm are very young -- the team every year always seems to be very young -- but these guys looked like they were playing lacrosse for the first time, and I don't see how playing as a team after one year together is going to fix that. They need new players ... although you can keep rookie Forward Logan Schuss. Last year's #1 overall pick fired a rocket of a goal in the fourth quarter which was the only awesome thing his team did all game.
So they finish with a record of 4-14. After a very bad start, they "rallied" to tie the Vancouver Stealth for worst record in the National Lacrosse League. They'll have either the first or second overall pick in next year's draft, so they'll supposedly have more great yet young talent to "build" with -- assuming the Smarm are still around next season.
Guess so. They did win two-of-three, which is better than being under .500. But I'm putting the Wild up first because they are in the middle of what has shaped up to be a very good playoff series. Sure, it's kind of upsetting that the club blew yet another late lead to Colorado after Head Coach Patrick Roy put an extra skater on the ice, the second time the Mild has blown a lead. But I am certain that this club can stand up toe-to-toe with The Bastard Quebec Nordiques. And I'm not saying that I feel confident, let alone saying that they'll win, but the two blown leads do at least indicate that they won't piss down their legs and completely melt down. No, they just wait until the end to do that. But if they can grab the lead and respond to the extra attacker by finally getting an empty net goal, they can win tonight (Wednesday night).
You know, right now I'm feeling kind of psyched for a Game 7. Win or lose, they've held serve and battled as far as a series can go. Hopefully I'll be able to enjoy the game, and win, dining out.
#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). A confident sweep at home (featuring the first-ever night games at Siebert Field) against Penn St. Back-to-back shutouts, the Nittany Lions only scored on Friday night, and the combined run total: 18-1. RHP Neal Kunik is the Big Ten Co-Pitcher Of The Week for allowing only three hits while striking out nine in seven scoreless innings in the Gophers' 12-0 shellacking Sunday afternoon. It was only Kulik's second start in college.
Meanwhile, the midweek one-off last Wednesday, against Hamline, was postponed due to weather. Meanwhile, this Wednesday game (aka today) is against Bethel, which was suddenly scheduled after it was determined that their original opponent that day, St. Thomas, would not be able to reschedule. After that there is a special series: The Gophers travel down to Tallahassee, Fla. to face Heisman Trophy winner Jameis Winston and top 10-ranked Florida St. for a three-game series this weekend.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -1). Normally I would say that when this team has back-to-back rainouts, that's a good week. But I won't say that about the Twinks, at least not now. They are actually not horrid so far this year, flirting with .500 on the strength of nice surprises Brian Dozier, Trevor Plouffe and Chris Colabello and an offense with some pop. The pitching still needs some work, but nevertheless they took the last two games of a three-game series in Tampa, then split two games at home against Detroit before Sunday's rainout. A 3-1 record with two rainouts, especially when last Tuesday began a stretch of 23 straight games against teams that technically reached the playoffs? A promising start, and one where I wouldn't have minded seeing them try to win the series against the Tigers and am still wondering how they'd fare against the Dodgers, the first game in a series against them being rained out last (Tuesday) night. After playing Los Angeles as many times as possible while avoiding the current biblical rainstorm we're under, they host Baltimore over the weekend before starting a three-game series in Cleveland.
#-Infinity: Swarm (Last Week: -4). Yeah, I touched on the Smarm in a previous blog post, but I'll expound here, unfortunately. I saw what I still believe is the last game ever before the Swarm fold. And unfortunately I think I saw the last game of the worst team in Smarm history. Seriously.
They lost to Toronto 8-6, but if you were at the game, you would wonder how the score was that close. Early in the second quarter the Rock scored their only two goals in that period in seven seconds. And early in the third they scored their only three goals in that period in the first four minutes. The Swarm tried to rally, outscoring Toronto in the final stanza 4-1, but you'd wonder how in the hell did they become so competent after the clown show they put up the first 45 minutes. This team had problems doing the most fundamental things, things like scoring, passing, ball-handling, not turning the ball over, running, hustle, shit liking that. The Swarm are very young -- the team every year always seems to be very young -- but these guys looked like they were playing lacrosse for the first time, and I don't see how playing as a team after one year together is going to fix that. They need new players ... although you can keep rookie Forward Logan Schuss. Last year's #1 overall pick fired a rocket of a goal in the fourth quarter which was the only awesome thing his team did all game.
So they finish with a record of 4-14. After a very bad start, they "rallied" to tie the Vancouver Stealth for worst record in the National Lacrosse League. They'll have either the first or second overall pick in next year's draft, so they'll supposedly have more great yet young talent to "build" with -- assuming the Smarm are still around next season.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
The Mechanic Around The Corner Just Fucked Me
I can't believe it. I just can't fucking believe it. And because of that, I think it really might be time to ditch my car.
In frustration overnight I left a message with The Mechanic Around The Corner about how frustrated I was that I had to give back my car when I thought everything (well, almost everything) has been fixed. So today at work I get a voicemail saying that I can pick up my car now. Google Voice still isn't great when it comes to translating, but apparently The Mechanic Around The Corner said they replaced a bulb. Replaced a bulb? Didn't they already replace two already -- after I told them all of them are working? Are they lying to me?
I don't know what the hell's going on, but I already had a funny feeling about this. So I called them after I got home to check what exactly happened. The guy told me that there was one more bulb they had to replace, and they needed to re-tweak (or something) a wire going into the mass air intake flow. And that's it.
What happened next I have to paraphrase (the other guy's lines I'm reimagining in italics):
"I hope you understand my frustration. I saw the indicator lights going on again and I don't know why they're still on."
"Well, we got those two oil leaks that we didn't fix, but the coolant leak we did fix, as well as the fuel leak from the fuel injector."
"So ... that means you've gotten rid of the warning lights now, right?"
"Well ... that's not what you asked us to do."
"What do you mean?"
"You asked us to fix the coolant leak and what was giving you the gas fumes, and we finally got the taillights fixed and of course the sway bar, so it's good to go."
"But ... what about the warning lights?"
"You didn't ask us to fix the warning lights."
"What do you mean? Those lights are gonna come back on?"
"Yeah."
The guy then proceeded to explain to me that the $1,600 of car repair bills I ordered them to do did not, and I repeat, did not entail getting rid of the warning lights. They are, he told me fucking Monday evening, a totally separate issue from all the other shit I just charged on my credit card. The Check Engine light has something to do with a knock sensor code (he has told me that) that he said has been going on for years (not true; it first came on in December). The low oil level light will continue to come on as a result of the two gaskets I declined to get fixed, as if the intake manifold gasket was just a mere plugging of one hole where many holes burst forth with oil. And the taillights? Fuck if I know. But at least he's not charging me for the one that was switched on Monday. Thank goodness for small miracles, huh?
The money is bad enough; I clearly do not feel as if I got what I paid for, at least the way I'm feeling right now. But it's the tone of this guy, whom I considered to be a pretty decent bloke, kind of condescending towards me, that I still remember as I type this. He seemed to blame me for not asking to get the dashboard lights fixed: "Well, you didn't want them fixed. We did the major things, but you didn't say anything about the warning lights." Why the fuck else would I bring my car in? There were warning lights, I wanted them to figure out what the hell was going on, they fix them, the warning lights go bye-bye. WHAT THE FUCK AM I MISSING HERE?!?!?!
Look, it's an old car. I don't deny the possibility -- the possibility -- that underneath the hood there was some major damage that would spell the death of my car. And I ain't no mechanic; maybe what they did in fact will extend its life, and that I actually did the right thing when I ordered them to do what they did. But I can't see that, can I? I can't see the oil leaks that are supposedly drowning the back of my engine, or the coolant leak that seems to be draining antifreeze from the overflow tank but isn't seeping onto the driveway.
You know what I can see? Dashboard lights. And when I pick up my car Tuesday afternoon The Mechanic Around The Corner made (well, now makes) no bones that I will see those dashboard warning lights -- the low oil level, the Check Engine, and who knows, maybe even the taillight warning lights (why in the hell did they fuck around with the mass air flow sensor anyway?) -- as soon as I drive away. I spent $1,600 on repairs, and the things I wanted them to fix won't be fixed. It's as if nothing's changed except I threw $1,600 down the sewer system.
I can't go back to these guys. Competence is almost besides the point, though I cannot shake the feeling they ripped me off bigtime, schooled like a fool, if they haven't outright lied to me. I just cannot understand how they couldn't communicate the fact that what I came in for (why are the warning lights on?) is, according to them, vastly different than what I told them to fix (can you take care of the leaks in my car?) when they diagnosed the car last week. It's as if we're speaking different languages. And so even if they turn out to be right (the most telling sign will be to see if the antifreeze overflow tank continues to go empty, but the taillight warning light better not be on), I feel so burned by these guys that I'm afraid I'll go off on them when I pick up my car. And yet I still love it, and all the other mechanics around the area or that I know aren't open on weekends, which is the only time when I could bring it in.
But this is different. I will not see the benefits of paying for major repair. I'll just be stuck with the feeling that these people fucked me. No -- not anymore. I love you, car, but if it means getting taken for a ride by people who regard me as suckers, I can't and won't spend the money anymore. I'll ditch it and use my sister's ride instead. Just to avoid paying for major repairs, at least for awhile. I can't go through with this anymore, I just can't.
Wow, I really fucked this one up, didn't I?
In frustration overnight I left a message with The Mechanic Around The Corner about how frustrated I was that I had to give back my car when I thought everything (well, almost everything) has been fixed. So today at work I get a voicemail saying that I can pick up my car now. Google Voice still isn't great when it comes to translating, but apparently The Mechanic Around The Corner said they replaced a bulb. Replaced a bulb? Didn't they already replace two already -- after I told them all of them are working? Are they lying to me?
I don't know what the hell's going on, but I already had a funny feeling about this. So I called them after I got home to check what exactly happened. The guy told me that there was one more bulb they had to replace, and they needed to re-tweak (or something) a wire going into the mass air intake flow. And that's it.
What happened next I have to paraphrase (the other guy's lines I'm reimagining in italics):
"I hope you understand my frustration. I saw the indicator lights going on again and I don't know why they're still on."
"Well, we got those two oil leaks that we didn't fix, but the coolant leak we did fix, as well as the fuel leak from the fuel injector."
"So ... that means you've gotten rid of the warning lights now, right?"
"Well ... that's not what you asked us to do."
"What do you mean?"
"You asked us to fix the coolant leak and what was giving you the gas fumes, and we finally got the taillights fixed and of course the sway bar, so it's good to go."
"But ... what about the warning lights?"
"You didn't ask us to fix the warning lights."
"What do you mean? Those lights are gonna come back on?"
"Yeah."
The guy then proceeded to explain to me that the $1,600 of car repair bills I ordered them to do did not, and I repeat, did not entail getting rid of the warning lights. They are, he told me fucking Monday evening, a totally separate issue from all the other shit I just charged on my credit card. The Check Engine light has something to do with a knock sensor code (he has told me that) that he said has been going on for years (not true; it first came on in December). The low oil level light will continue to come on as a result of the two gaskets I declined to get fixed, as if the intake manifold gasket was just a mere plugging of one hole where many holes burst forth with oil. And the taillights? Fuck if I know. But at least he's not charging me for the one that was switched on Monday. Thank goodness for small miracles, huh?
The money is bad enough; I clearly do not feel as if I got what I paid for, at least the way I'm feeling right now. But it's the tone of this guy, whom I considered to be a pretty decent bloke, kind of condescending towards me, that I still remember as I type this. He seemed to blame me for not asking to get the dashboard lights fixed: "Well, you didn't want them fixed. We did the major things, but you didn't say anything about the warning lights." Why the fuck else would I bring my car in? There were warning lights, I wanted them to figure out what the hell was going on, they fix them, the warning lights go bye-bye. WHAT THE FUCK AM I MISSING HERE?!?!?!
Look, it's an old car. I don't deny the possibility -- the possibility -- that underneath the hood there was some major damage that would spell the death of my car. And I ain't no mechanic; maybe what they did in fact will extend its life, and that I actually did the right thing when I ordered them to do what they did. But I can't see that, can I? I can't see the oil leaks that are supposedly drowning the back of my engine, or the coolant leak that seems to be draining antifreeze from the overflow tank but isn't seeping onto the driveway.
You know what I can see? Dashboard lights. And when I pick up my car Tuesday afternoon The Mechanic Around The Corner made (well, now makes) no bones that I will see those dashboard warning lights -- the low oil level, the Check Engine, and who knows, maybe even the taillight warning lights (why in the hell did they fuck around with the mass air flow sensor anyway?) -- as soon as I drive away. I spent $1,600 on repairs, and the things I wanted them to fix won't be fixed. It's as if nothing's changed except I threw $1,600 down the sewer system.
I can't go back to these guys. Competence is almost besides the point, though I cannot shake the feeling they ripped me off bigtime, schooled like a fool, if they haven't outright lied to me. I just cannot understand how they couldn't communicate the fact that what I came in for (why are the warning lights on?) is, according to them, vastly different than what I told them to fix (can you take care of the leaks in my car?) when they diagnosed the car last week. It's as if we're speaking different languages. And so even if they turn out to be right (the most telling sign will be to see if the antifreeze overflow tank continues to go empty, but the taillight warning light better not be on), I feel so burned by these guys that I'm afraid I'll go off on them when I pick up my car. And yet I still love it, and all the other mechanics around the area or that I know aren't open on weekends, which is the only time when I could bring it in.
But this is different. I will not see the benefits of paying for major repair. I'll just be stuck with the feeling that these people fucked me. No -- not anymore. I love you, car, but if it means getting taken for a ride by people who regard me as suckers, I can't and won't spend the money anymore. I'll ditch it and use my sister's ride instead. Just to avoid paying for major repairs, at least for awhile. I can't go through with this anymore, I just can't.
Wow, I really fucked this one up, didn't I?
Monday, April 28, 2014
Expenses Without Receipt
Starting from Monday, April 28:
- On Saturday the 26th I went to this house party which is only five minutes away from where I live. I didn't mind the party. The house is great (although I think the guy's a die-hard conservative; to his credit he never talked about politics and has been nothing but very kind to me) and as a party, it was quite rockin' on a Saturday afternoon. (I will not forget, by the way, this one stripper who walked completely naked all the way from the food downstairs up to the living room where all the dances were being given. I had an up-close look at her big, fine ass as she walked past me. She was the only girl in the middle of almost a dozen guys who were waiting to be grinded upon by hot women. She probably got all of us hard. One naked woman, bunch of guys wishing to get fucked ... so many a gangbang pictorial uses this as a concept.) But again, I don't want guys around me when I get to touch a stripper's boobies. I don't know if I want to come back again, especially when the only lapper I got was from ****a, and even though it was only $20, I'll pay an extra $110 if that means we're alone and she gives me a handjob. Oh, and there was a ten-dollar cover, so the total for going to the party was: $30.
- I went to the Swarm game. I swear it's the last game in franchise history, and that some time (maybe today, maybe over the holidays) they'll "realize" that they have to cease operations. Oh, and the Smarm played like shit in losing its last game. Great way to convince people to come back next season, if there is a next season. Scalped ticket, hot dog and a beer that was small but wasn't priced like it: $24.50.
- Decided to drop by My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) after the loss. And do you know who was there? Many of the girls who worked that afternoon party. And some of the guys there were hanging out with them, like they all left the party and came over there. I like that. Meanwhile, I didn't plan on getting a dance, but ********a, the girl who posted the house party I went to the night before, kind of made hand gestures which I interpreted as saying she was tied up with this drunk guy and wanted a way out. Now that I think about it, maybe she was just hustling me for a dance. But I felt kind of bad that I didn't get one from her the night before. God, I hope I don't go broke. Coffee, tips and that dance: $28.
- I went home, but it's a Saturday night, my parents aren't home to say they don't like me going out so late and I feel like I can write easier at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, so at 1 in the morning that's where I went. Wasn't that hungry, even after I ate a sandwich at Cossetta, but I did get onion rings and a milkshake. TMI, but I felt and saw that meal in the bathroom all day today. With tip: $6.25.
- Friday the 25th ... got done with the night project about 15 minutes early. Spent that time changing into my porno pants at work, then leaving to ********a's party. Got a dance from *****e*, whom I'm sure I would've been able to take my dick out on if there was no one else in the basement. But there was a guy getting a dance from ********a, and then another of the strippers came down, and even though they were done with their dance this girl and ********a were talking and shooting selfies or some shit, so no dick-showing opportunities for me. Also got a dance from this cover girl. I'll leave it at that. And unfortunately I had to pay cover, too. Total: $50.
- Went to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place after picking up my laptop at home. This guy who's always there on Fridays talked my ear off, but that's OK, because I haven't seen him in a long time. We decided to go to a Twins game on a Saturday. Dinner-sized salad, mozzarella sticks, Coke and tip: $12.
- The morning of Thursday, April 24 I picked up donuts for work. Great donuts -- nothing fancy, just extremely well-made: $33.15.
- To Sunday, April 20 -- Walked all the way to Wendy's. Didn't get a receipt this time. Why aren't they more consistent? Total: $7.81.
- Oh, and I gotta talk about the massage I got with ****a: $130.
- On Saturday the 19th I dropped off my car and went to the local hospital to eat. Why eat there? Variety. Got a receipt for that. I then went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) to see if ****e*, the old chick who wanked me off in her car in the parking lot (still haven't blogged about that!) would be working that afternoon. Thought she usually works Saturday afternoons, but she didn't work this one. And since I was short of funds, I cut my visit short. Coffee and a couple tips: $7.
- That evening I went to the Minnesota RollerGirls championship bout. Congratulations go out to the Garda Belts, the club team that won for the first time in MNRG's ten-year history. Ticket (at a student discount), beer and tip: $21.
- Afterwards, I finally hit out Mickey's Diner for a proper, non-rushed meal. It is a diner, but I'm kind of obsessed with knowing what's the go-to food here. Looked through Yelp and there's no consensus, so I got the two items that appeared to reach a plurality: Hash browns O'Brian's and Mulligan stew. Total with tip: $15.70.
- To Friday, April 18 ... after a long week of being out of the house basically for 16 hours, I decided to stay out out of my own accord and drop by My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) to relax. I was immediately hit up by this cute chick whom I remember seeing before but didn't know whether she was a $5 girl. Luckily I didn't mind giving her $20 for the ensuing lap dance. I think for all my years coming here, this is the first time a stripper has actively and blatantly groped me. She's a keeper. Said dance, coffee and a stage tip for only one girl because I gave $20 to this chick, another girl is a five-buck girl and the fourth didn't show up: $25.
- Saturday the 12th. ... Started my day off at Caribou. Charged the mocha and cookie. If I knew I didn't have any money and I would wind up using my credit card this day, I would have also charged my monthly health insurance premium, too. Oh well. I did have enough coin to give a tip: 25 cents.
- Finished doing my taxes at the library. First I had to print out the two-page 8889: 20 cents.
- Then, when I got done, I made copies of all my returns -- one for all the state forms, two for all the federal (one to send to the state, one to keep for myself): $1.10.
- After the Gophers upset loss -- God that pisses me off -- I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) to try and forget. Tips and coffee (and, ETA on 12:36 a.m. May 17 that, at least according to my Franklin Quest record, I also got a dance from this beautiful hippy blonde named Kirah, so I'm changing it from the original amount of $10 to): $31.
A Receipt From February
So this morning I woke up around 9:30, having everything to do and yet nothing to do, you know? It was raining steadily outside, thereby giving me (and everybody in the area, probably) an excuse to stay in bed and try to sleep again. I tried that for an hour, then remembered that I had planned to do stuff. But first, I was going to masturbate.
I've thought about all the ass I've seen. I'm facebook friends with a lot of models, and I've noticed that many of their non-pornographic pictures they post on my News Feed show sizable portions, if not all, of their butt cheeks. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. But I usually see that much ass in porn pictorials or videos, not in swimsuit or modeling pictures that anyone can see anywhere without the perception that it is dirty. It's with that partial nod to "research" that I dug through my stuff for this year's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. When I first skimmed through the spread I was shocked at how naughty it became, and it's because of all the ass I saw. I wanted to go through it again to see if I'm only seeing things -- that, and to jerk off.
I finally saw it in a bag where I also had a Twin Cities Business magazine. Never have I bought one before; in fact, I don't think I've ever seen it before. But at the flu billing place the January issue was just laid out on the front desk, and every time I passed by it on the way into work that morning I noticed that it had the cover of five Vikings cheerleaders posing around a woman whose business is making uniforms for cheerleaders in the area. Since they're Vikings cheerleaders, they're all hot. In particular the abs. Oh my God, the abs. That's the reason I bought it, in late February. I was lucky this place didn't replace this issue with the current issue of Twin Cities Business before I purchased it. I planned to masturbate to the Vikings cheerleaders, and I did, and I got aroused, so I started wanking to the cheerleaders and finished myself off with looking at Alex Morgan's sandy ass in SI. I wonder if she would pose with just her ass hanging out, sans sand. I get a feeling that she thinks she can do that and keep her job and "dignity" because the sand acts as a covering, like a bikini bottom. Not really, but that's OK, you keep thinking that, babe.
But that's not what I really wanted to talk about. In this bag where both magazines were was a receipt for the TCB mag, completely unfolded and pristine, obviously unmoved from when the bookstore teller threw it in there. I probably forgot to take it out before I threw the whole bag in hiding. But I only found this now, more than two months after the purchase. So I wanted to make sure I didn't write it down, so I went through my old pages of my day planner, and yep, I had not wrote it down. So I did, and then I had to update the monthly expense list, and then I had to update the final total for February, which dug a deeper hole of how much more money I took out of my wallet than put in.
You know, I keep doing these Expenses Without Receipts because it's a way of figuring out how much money I keep spending. And I need to know how I keep failing to grow my checking account, massive car repair bill excepted. So it's very disheartening to see that I failed to note the expense of a magazine I never buy (I don't buy magazines period) because I want to jerk off to the cover. It's kind of special, you know, therefore I would think I would mark it. But I didn't. Guess it's better late than never, but I keep getting mad at myself for not tracking these carefully, and seeing this this morning is an egregious, embarrassing example of that.
I've thought about all the ass I've seen. I'm facebook friends with a lot of models, and I've noticed that many of their non-pornographic pictures they post on my News Feed show sizable portions, if not all, of their butt cheeks. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. But I usually see that much ass in porn pictorials or videos, not in swimsuit or modeling pictures that anyone can see anywhere without the perception that it is dirty. It's with that partial nod to "research" that I dug through my stuff for this year's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. When I first skimmed through the spread I was shocked at how naughty it became, and it's because of all the ass I saw. I wanted to go through it again to see if I'm only seeing things -- that, and to jerk off.
I finally saw it in a bag where I also had a Twin Cities Business magazine. Never have I bought one before; in fact, I don't think I've ever seen it before. But at the flu billing place the January issue was just laid out on the front desk, and every time I passed by it on the way into work that morning I noticed that it had the cover of five Vikings cheerleaders posing around a woman whose business is making uniforms for cheerleaders in the area. Since they're Vikings cheerleaders, they're all hot. In particular the abs. Oh my God, the abs. That's the reason I bought it, in late February. I was lucky this place didn't replace this issue with the current issue of Twin Cities Business before I purchased it. I planned to masturbate to the Vikings cheerleaders, and I did, and I got aroused, so I started wanking to the cheerleaders and finished myself off with looking at Alex Morgan's sandy ass in SI. I wonder if she would pose with just her ass hanging out, sans sand. I get a feeling that she thinks she can do that and keep her job and "dignity" because the sand acts as a covering, like a bikini bottom. Not really, but that's OK, you keep thinking that, babe.
But that's not what I really wanted to talk about. In this bag where both magazines were was a receipt for the TCB mag, completely unfolded and pristine, obviously unmoved from when the bookstore teller threw it in there. I probably forgot to take it out before I threw the whole bag in hiding. But I only found this now, more than two months after the purchase. So I wanted to make sure I didn't write it down, so I went through my old pages of my day planner, and yep, I had not wrote it down. So I did, and then I had to update the monthly expense list, and then I had to update the final total for February, which dug a deeper hole of how much more money I took out of my wallet than put in.
You know, I keep doing these Expenses Without Receipts because it's a way of figuring out how much money I keep spending. And I need to know how I keep failing to grow my checking account, massive car repair bill excepted. So it's very disheartening to see that I failed to note the expense of a magazine I never buy (I don't buy magazines period) because I want to jerk off to the cover. It's kind of special, you know, therefore I would think I would mark it. But I didn't. Guess it's better late than never, but I keep getting mad at myself for not tracking these carefully, and seeing this this morning is an egregious, embarrassing example of that.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Car's Still Not Fixed
Got my car around 9:30 Saturday morning. Was glad everything was going to be behind me. But shortly after leaving the bank around 1:30 on my way to Target, all the indicator lights -- the Check Engine, the low oil level, and the taillight warning -- all lit up. It is like what it was before I brought it in.
Glad The Mechanic Around The Corner was open until 3, and I had time to make a U-turn and bring it back. I really had no recourse but to request that the guy I handed over my credit card to in the morning step into my car and look at the lights himself.
I don't want to come down on these guys. I like them on a personal level, and they seem -- seem -- to be nice people. But this has be to be noted and corrected. And if this guy is a man of integrity, he won't deny what he saw when he stepped into my car. To ensure that, I had to, for lack of a better word, confront him with what I saw: That, basically, nothing was fixed.
"I thought everything was fixed?" "Then why are the indicator lights on?" Those were the two questions I asked The Mechanic Around The Corner while he was looking at the car dashboard. He turned off the engine, turned it on, then asked for the car back to take another look at it ... Monday. That would mean that he would have my car for more than a week.
The more I think about it, the more I think I have to be a bit angry about this. I could just let them look at why the lights are still on, but as much as I hate it, I think I have to call them on Monday and ... I wouldn't say read them the Riot Act, but act like a man who isn't getting what he paid for, which is almost $1,600. (By the way, I had to remind The Mechanic Around The Corner that I have AAA. The guy then took off its customary discount for AAA members, which in this case is about $97. I thought, however, that when I okayed the repairs I reminded them I had AAA. Now I have to remind them again? I'm glad I did, otherwise I would be out almost a hundred bucks.) I sure as hell am not going to pay more money to get more stuff on my car fixed, especially when I was led to believe it has already been done. And I think I should begin to start insinuating that I don't think I should pay for it. Yes, it's an old car, and I'm probably throwing a lot more money into it than I should. But they didn't say that when I got the car back that the indicator lights would still be on.
What's really bad about this is that this really bad issue reawakens my fears that these guys are ripping me off. They've done things over the years that I've considered dodgy. Either that's because they're being "overcautious" and asking for more money from me in order to fix it, or they don't know what the hell they're doing. I've had to go back to them; they're the only people I know who've done good things, are open on weekends and is close to home. But if they've screwed up a $1,600 "repair" bill, well, that has to be a deal-breaker. I can't come back to people to whom I paid so much for a bunch of fixes which turned out not to do anything, then fork over more money to them. Not only would that break me financially, I can't forgive such incompetence/corruption based on principle. I don't want to do it, but I'm going to have to act a little pissed off.
And this doesn't even address my driver's-side front door splitting apart.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Yesterday Was The Day I Started Hating My Job
Two things that make me feel this way. The first happened basically the first thing in the morning. I was told by my boss a couple days ago that when we see this, we it's OK. She wasn't in first thing this morning, but her employees -- us -- were there, and so we said that ... but just in case we'll run it by her anyway because this ruling seems, on its face, to be absurd. And apparently it was; as soon as my boss came in and my co-worker asked her about it, she basically said, "Well of course it's not good!" And I feel like I was hung out to dry because I stood up in front of the entire room to stop and correct my co-worker. Mind you, hung out to dry by my boss, whom I swear told me that this mistake was acceptable for a point. This has happened from time to time in the project, but this is the first time I laid myself out there. And I feel very burned that she either changed her mind or totally forgot what she told me.
During my second job, the one at night (and, by the way, the one that's now done as of Friday), I was thinking how pissed off I was -- at her, my job and the job she's doing -- and at least patting myself on the back for anticipating this bad turn in my new job. But then I realized her changing her mind without telling me is a separate thing from what really pissed me off: The time this afternoon when, after I repeated what I thought she told the room, said, "That's what I said."
You should have been there. It was the tone that set me off inside me. But seeing this up-close now, her ... well, I'll say it, her weaknesses when imparting information with the room, in particular trying to shut down repeated questioning from scorers when it's clear they're not understanding her commands is glaring. She has a job that needs to get done under deadline, so at some point she will shut down queries when she believes it's slowing down the project. But she is very gruff, even buffoonishly so, when doing that. She also has this way of trying to answer questions by citing the examples she's given all of us, and that's useless, because we haven't been paid to memorize all these examples and where the fuck they are, so we (readers as well as us) are going to continue asking her. She reacts to this in an arrogant way; she really is astonished that we have not remembered where these examples are. And yet she insists upon them, and therefore we are speaking to each other in different languages.
And then there's this snide and defensive "That's what I said" comment, which, frankly, wanted me to throw my laptop at her and walk out the door. (Mental note: Tape on my workstation a receipt of the car repair bill I'm going to get tomorrow. That'll remind me to walk the line.) And to her "credit," she's nice to me other parts of the day, especially as we get closer to the end of it. Yet I don't like people who are not nice and then nice. Those people are two-faced and bait-and-switch their emotions depending on the circumstances of work. Hey, maybe she doesn't mean what she says and how she says it. Many people do. But I don't understand why people don't at least understand that they don't have to become another person under stress. Shit, I'd rather have someone be an asshole all day, even when they should be happy. That way they're at least consistent. Much better than being happy or mad depending on where the wind blows.
(Have I blogged about this before?)
I have to remember that I'm about to rack up two grand on my credit card bill later this morning. And that I have only four more weeks of hardcore work.
During my second job, the one at night (and, by the way, the one that's now done as of Friday), I was thinking how pissed off I was -- at her, my job and the job she's doing -- and at least patting myself on the back for anticipating this bad turn in my new job. But then I realized her changing her mind without telling me is a separate thing from what really pissed me off: The time this afternoon when, after I repeated what I thought she told the room, said, "That's what I said."
You should have been there. It was the tone that set me off inside me. But seeing this up-close now, her ... well, I'll say it, her weaknesses when imparting information with the room, in particular trying to shut down repeated questioning from scorers when it's clear they're not understanding her commands is glaring. She has a job that needs to get done under deadline, so at some point she will shut down queries when she believes it's slowing down the project. But she is very gruff, even buffoonishly so, when doing that. She also has this way of trying to answer questions by citing the examples she's given all of us, and that's useless, because we haven't been paid to memorize all these examples and where the fuck they are, so we (readers as well as us) are going to continue asking her. She reacts to this in an arrogant way; she really is astonished that we have not remembered where these examples are. And yet she insists upon them, and therefore we are speaking to each other in different languages.
And then there's this snide and defensive "That's what I said" comment, which, frankly, wanted me to throw my laptop at her and walk out the door. (Mental note: Tape on my workstation a receipt of the car repair bill I'm going to get tomorrow. That'll remind me to walk the line.) And to her "credit," she's nice to me other parts of the day, especially as we get closer to the end of it. Yet I don't like people who are not nice and then nice. Those people are two-faced and bait-and-switch their emotions depending on the circumstances of work. Hey, maybe she doesn't mean what she says and how she says it. Many people do. But I don't understand why people don't at least understand that they don't have to become another person under stress. Shit, I'd rather have someone be an asshole all day, even when they should be happy. That way they're at least consistent. Much better than being happy or mad depending on where the wind blows.
(Have I blogged about this before?)
I have to remember that I'm about to rack up two grand on my credit card bill later this morning. And that I have only four more weeks of hardcore work.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Addendum To: $2,500? Ha-Ha-Ha, That's Funny
Oh, I haven't told you guys what I decided to do with the repairs on the car. The reason for the Check Engine light, according to The Mechanic Around The Corner, is a bad fuel injector. That's the same reason the light came on the last time, when I was working the late shift at Macy's over the holidays a couple years ago. However, this one apparently is, for lack of a better term, tucked under the engine, which apparently is special from all the other engines out there because it's put into my car sideways and therefore this and another fuel injector is hidden all the way inside the guts of my car.
Guess here is their tests told them that it was that fuel injector that was bad, and so in order to get to it they had to, apparently, haul out my whole engine out of my car. Turns out that's a good thing, because they had thought for a long time that there were huge leaks in the back of my engine and they now had a reason to investigate just what the hell is going on back there. That's when they confirmed suspicions they've told me over the years, namely that there are those three gaskets in the very center of my hood that are leaking both oil and coolant.
The sway bar and the fuel injector (which, by the way, was leaking gas, which, according to them, is the reason I smell gas fumes when I turn on the exterior setting on the fan) are the first priorities to fix, and fix immediately; that, changing the taillights (which I insist again have already been fixed by me and therefore I don't know if they're either screwing up or ripping me off) and changing the oil are the repairs I had no problem okaying. All of that runs me about $900. But now the gaskets. I really shouldn't fix them on a car that's into its third decade of life. But goddammit, I love that car. These things have been leaking significantly for a long time, and it's time I did something about it. Besides, I'm working nowadays, like a dog with two jobs the past two weeks, so I've got the money to absorb the charge.
So I asked the guy at the car shop if he could give me a rank, one of the gaskets that should be fixed first. He said the intake manifold, if only because that's the one that's leaking both oil and coolant. OK, I said, how much? More than $700. Wow ... but, OK.
The next thing he said gave me pause, however. The engine is out of its housing (or "plenum," whatever that is) at this point, so not only can they replace the intake manifold gasket now but they can reach the valve cover gasket, too. It would save me money if I get the valve cover gasket fixed at the same time as the intake manifold gasket. That particular gasket would set me back $270 (before tax, I think) as opposed to $500 if they had to take the whole engine out again just to fix that. However, giving the go-ahead to that would boost the total of the car repair to just about ... ahem ... $2,000. The car isn't worth half that in Kelly's Blue Book, and I've already committed to more than $1,600 with the intake manifold gasket.
I was having this entire conversation on the phone -- let alone my internal debate with myself in my head -- while driving. I know that's a no-no, but I was running behind, and by the time I parked and had to end the call I was about a minute late. I had to start this phone call while getting to my night test scoring job, so I was kind of rushed, and I decided that I had to stop the total charges, for this go-round, at more than $1,600. The only thing popped into my head during this phone call is the fact that I spent either $1,700 or $1,900 on getting my transmission overhauled/replaced (along with a new left C/V joint), and I could not stomach paying more than that for a litany of fixes both unusual and mundane. If the valve cover gasket is leaking so much oil I have to attend to it, I'll do it later and take the extra $230 hit. But no, not now, not while I have to charge my credit card for restabilizing my sway bar and getting a new fuel injector, I just couldn't do it. (By the way, the third gasket, the oil pan gasket, is, at least according to The Mechanic Around The Corner, the most expensive of the three gasket leaks to patch up. Wonder why; aren't the expenses for the valve cover and intake manifold gaskets so high because of the labor needed to essentially do a reach-around on the engine? He didn't say he needed to yank the engine out to fix the oil pan gasket.)
I agonized over that decision, all through work that evening and in bed that night. I gave myself till mid-afternoon in case I wanted to give them a call and also OK the valve cover gasket fix. But in the end I realized that my credit card only has a $3,000 limit. I thought I would be alright if I charged $2,000 for the repairs on Saturday, which falls under the very first days of my next billing cycle, but you never know when there are surprises that will eat up the one grand balance. For example, I'm thinking about buying boutique chocolates not once but twice for the guys at work. I can't a situation where my credit card wouldn't be accepted because I maxed it out. I'll deal with the waste of getting my engine hauled out twice later. Who knows, maybe the other fuel injector will give out, or there's another leak back there that needs to be attended to, and then I won't have to feel like I'm throwing money away for taking out the "plenum" for just one stupid thing.
---
I'm okayed the repairs Tuesday evening. Wednesday evening I returned their call. They said they could not rotate the tires because they don't have my wheel lock, but it didn't matter because it looks like to them the treads on all four tires are even. (Also, they didn't see any punctures or bad seals on my front left tire; they just put air into all of them. They'd better be right.) But beyond that, they're done. They're done?? I give the go-ahead to almost $1,700 in repairs, and I'm led to believe there's a lot of elbow grease to get all this crap repaired, and you guys are done in less than a day? I kind of feel cheated. If I'm paying mid-to-upper four figures on my car, you should at least baby my car for three days. I'll take two.
Instead it's been good-to-go (well, besides those two bad gaskets) since Wednesday night. Because of my two jobs, I told them (when I brought my car in) that I wouldn't be able to pick it up until Saturday.
---
There is one positive note I should not here. I was able to stick gorilla tape to the flapping end of my passenger-side bottom weatherstripping. It's totally ghetto, and it could all peel away the first time I get the car washed, but for the past few weeks I haven't see it dragging on the ground, nor have I heard it flapping outside the car while I'm driving like Zorro's whip. So that's one repair I was able to do!
Guess here is their tests told them that it was that fuel injector that was bad, and so in order to get to it they had to, apparently, haul out my whole engine out of my car. Turns out that's a good thing, because they had thought for a long time that there were huge leaks in the back of my engine and they now had a reason to investigate just what the hell is going on back there. That's when they confirmed suspicions they've told me over the years, namely that there are those three gaskets in the very center of my hood that are leaking both oil and coolant.
The sway bar and the fuel injector (which, by the way, was leaking gas, which, according to them, is the reason I smell gas fumes when I turn on the exterior setting on the fan) are the first priorities to fix, and fix immediately; that, changing the taillights (which I insist again have already been fixed by me and therefore I don't know if they're either screwing up or ripping me off) and changing the oil are the repairs I had no problem okaying. All of that runs me about $900. But now the gaskets. I really shouldn't fix them on a car that's into its third decade of life. But goddammit, I love that car. These things have been leaking significantly for a long time, and it's time I did something about it. Besides, I'm working nowadays, like a dog with two jobs the past two weeks, so I've got the money to absorb the charge.
So I asked the guy at the car shop if he could give me a rank, one of the gaskets that should be fixed first. He said the intake manifold, if only because that's the one that's leaking both oil and coolant. OK, I said, how much? More than $700. Wow ... but, OK.
The next thing he said gave me pause, however. The engine is out of its housing (or "plenum," whatever that is) at this point, so not only can they replace the intake manifold gasket now but they can reach the valve cover gasket, too. It would save me money if I get the valve cover gasket fixed at the same time as the intake manifold gasket. That particular gasket would set me back $270 (before tax, I think) as opposed to $500 if they had to take the whole engine out again just to fix that. However, giving the go-ahead to that would boost the total of the car repair to just about ... ahem ... $2,000. The car isn't worth half that in Kelly's Blue Book, and I've already committed to more than $1,600 with the intake manifold gasket.
I was having this entire conversation on the phone -- let alone my internal debate with myself in my head -- while driving. I know that's a no-no, but I was running behind, and by the time I parked and had to end the call I was about a minute late. I had to start this phone call while getting to my night test scoring job, so I was kind of rushed, and I decided that I had to stop the total charges, for this go-round, at more than $1,600. The only thing popped into my head during this phone call is the fact that I spent either $1,700 or $1,900 on getting my transmission overhauled/replaced (along with a new left C/V joint), and I could not stomach paying more than that for a litany of fixes both unusual and mundane. If the valve cover gasket is leaking so much oil I have to attend to it, I'll do it later and take the extra $230 hit. But no, not now, not while I have to charge my credit card for restabilizing my sway bar and getting a new fuel injector, I just couldn't do it. (By the way, the third gasket, the oil pan gasket, is, at least according to The Mechanic Around The Corner, the most expensive of the three gasket leaks to patch up. Wonder why; aren't the expenses for the valve cover and intake manifold gaskets so high because of the labor needed to essentially do a reach-around on the engine? He didn't say he needed to yank the engine out to fix the oil pan gasket.)
I agonized over that decision, all through work that evening and in bed that night. I gave myself till mid-afternoon in case I wanted to give them a call and also OK the valve cover gasket fix. But in the end I realized that my credit card only has a $3,000 limit. I thought I would be alright if I charged $2,000 for the repairs on Saturday, which falls under the very first days of my next billing cycle, but you never know when there are surprises that will eat up the one grand balance. For example, I'm thinking about buying boutique chocolates not once but twice for the guys at work. I can't a situation where my credit card wouldn't be accepted because I maxed it out. I'll deal with the waste of getting my engine hauled out twice later. Who knows, maybe the other fuel injector will give out, or there's another leak back there that needs to be attended to, and then I won't have to feel like I'm throwing money away for taking out the "plenum" for just one stupid thing.
---
I'm okayed the repairs Tuesday evening. Wednesday evening I returned their call. They said they could not rotate the tires because they don't have my wheel lock, but it didn't matter because it looks like to them the treads on all four tires are even. (Also, they didn't see any punctures or bad seals on my front left tire; they just put air into all of them. They'd better be right.) But beyond that, they're done. They're done?? I give the go-ahead to almost $1,700 in repairs, and I'm led to believe there's a lot of elbow grease to get all this crap repaired, and you guys are done in less than a day? I kind of feel cheated. If I'm paying mid-to-upper four figures on my car, you should at least baby my car for three days. I'll take two.
Instead it's been good-to-go (well, besides those two bad gaskets) since Wednesday night. Because of my two jobs, I told them (when I brought my car in) that I wouldn't be able to pick it up until Saturday.
---
There is one positive note I should not here. I was able to stick gorilla tape to the flapping end of my passenger-side bottom weatherstripping. It's totally ghetto, and it could all peel away the first time I get the car washed, but for the past few weeks I haven't see it dragging on the ground, nor have I heard it flapping outside the car while I'm driving like Zorro's whip. So that's one repair I was able to do!
Thursday, April 24, 2014
The Test Scoring Double-Dip; Betrayal? Hitting The Wall
Oh yeah ... after finishing my day at my new leadership position, I am now working evenings for another project at the other test scoring place. Started that last Monday, probably will finish Friday -- none too soon.
When I started I felt a combination of, uh, "ooginess" and cunning. While there is, to my knowledge, no formal rule forbidding it, I don't know of anyone working both places, let alone at exactly the same time. Four years ago, when I started in this industry, I worked with one guy at one of the companies, and then I bumped into him at the other company a few months later. (I haven't seen him ever again, by the way.) Other than that, I think I am the only person on Earth who's moonlighting in the same industry, and certainly the only person doing so in the same damn day for the past two weeks.
Now, I kind of think that, especially since testing season is limited, that people who like this line of work will double-dip. Are they not because the day would be so long? Or is it because they prefer one of the test scoring companies over the other, or otherwise feel some sense of company loyalty? I don't disparage either place; I think both companies have its advantages and disadvantages. But the paychecks I get from both places (although one is higher than the other because I work eight hours in one but four in the other) are equally legitimate. I need the money, and I need to work these projects while the sun is shining, to twist a farm analogy. So I go to one place in the morning and the other place at night. And I apparently am the only one, even though I don't know why.
I still am kind of afraid that I'll be found out. I don't tell anybody from either company I work for the other. I also am kind of scared whenever I zip open my backpack pouch where I keep both of my badges; I'm afraid that the one I'm not using at the time will fall out of my bag, or someone looking over my shoulder will spot the other badge in my bag. I then will have a lot of explaining to do, even though I really wouldn't know how to defend myself ... and that's assuming that I don't have anything to worry about since this isn't illegal, at least as far as I know. However, seeing that no one has "caught on" (if anybody really cares) kind of excites me. I feel like I'm a spy hiding in plain sight. I work at one place, then I work at another. And no one is paying attention that I (and I say this with a lot of ego) am getting away with it.
---
However, the fatigue is catching up with me. My day/night is now over at the 10 o'clock hour, and I am wiped out. I barely have enough time to gather my thoughts to post on Wailing And Failing after being all pooped out in my day job (and in my previous job as a flu biller, too). But the past two weeks I literally have had no time, what with this night job but also doing my taxes and fulfilling my duties as alumni club president. I should do a Scheduled Post bomb so I don't have to worry about staying up past midnight, but when I try to do that I don't even know what I want to say. Only when the clock is about to strike midnight where I finally feel the need to blog about something, even though I have absolutely no energy with which to do it.
The commute from job to job has gotten worse the past couple of days. They were bad when I pulled off a similar feat last year; I needed to build in about 45 minutes to drive about 15 miles in afternoon rush. Up until Tuesday, however, that was cut down to about half an hour. I don't know what circumstances allowed such an easy and quick trip, and the rainy and gloomy weather the past couple of days is a reasonable reason why it's gotten so long. But I'm still kind of amazed how you can get a wide range of commute times on the same route on the same time of day.
Today I got out of my first job a bit past 4:30, but it took me until 5:30 to get to my night job. That was a couple minutes longer than Tuesday, and a lot longer than the 30, 35-minute sojourn through the southwestern metropolitan area. A total damn nightmare of stop-and-go, backed-up traffic. In the middle of this slog I felt a fatigue come over me the intensity of which I haven't felt in a long time. It was kind of close to the time when I fell asleep on the way home from my overnight holiday stocking position at Macy's. Not good at all, and an indication that my 16 1/4-hour workdays have finally caught up to me.
I need the money, especially after I okayed such extensive fixes to my car. But right now, as I type this, I would rather have a long day of sleeping in than the combined daily paychecks of both of these jobs I'm working now. Speaking of which, I should be sleeping now. I am getting up earlier than usually because one of my co-workers is celebrating a birthday and I'm picking up donuts for the whole room, and I need to get down to A Baker's Wife to make sure I get to work on time. I should have been in bed at least an hour ago. God, I hope I don't accidentally sleep in. Good night.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -3). This has been a very bad screening week for the Survey. I really should put the Mild on top, but I think that's just Monday's dramatic victory talking. So I decided to go by straight record ... which means that the bottom-scraping Twinks are top this week. "Credit" goes mostly to a rainout-generated doubleheader sweep of the Toronto Blue Jays that finished their nine-game homestand. Unfortunately they then dropped two-of-three in Kansas City and started their midweek series in Tampa Bay with a 7-3 loss Tuesday.
The early club Most Valuable Player is Chris Colabello, who leads the league in ... Runs Batted In? Something like that. Joe Mauer, surprisingly, has been quiet. Regardless, while the squad is not playing like gangbusters, they are far above a 90-plus-loss pace.
This road trip is only a week and six games long. They return from T. Bay for a weekend series vs. Detroit, then begin a series hosting the Los Angeles Dodgers Tuesday. Man, I wish had the energy to see my Doyers.
#-2: Wild (Last Week: -1). What a difference one game makes ... at least when it comes to perception. After choking away a two-goal lead to lose Game 1, I really thought this squad was a broken team. If they didn't come back from it, at least they shouldn't. You have a young team on the ropes on the road, and your youthful talent and veteran presence can't close the deal? Those teams should be ashamed of themselves, and they seem to have played like that in Game 2, a 4-2 loss.
The difference, possibly, was switching Goalies. My how the star of Ilya Bryzgalov has fallen. He was undefeated through regulation in his first ten games with the club, but now he's been an absolute sieve. Head Coach Mike Yeo had no choice but to switch it up between the pipes. Darcy Kuemper's first-ever postseason start could not have gone any better: A shutout. Meanwhile, The Bastard Quebec Nordiques' top line, featuring Nathan Mackinnon, a guy who has been featured in every single front page of the sports section to the point of nausea I've seen, has been shut down. I don't think you need home ice, where you get the last line change, to win a National Hockey League series, especially when you had Game 1 in your hands and let it go, but maybe the Wild needed it just to get their bearings. Imagine what would've happened if this team dug themselves a 3-0 hole.
Games 4 through 6 are scheduled for this week. If this team is in next week's WMNSS above -Infinity, they have a Game 7 in Colorado next Wednesday night.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -5). Drop to 6-9 in the Big Ten and 19-16 overall after dropping two-of-three in Iowa over the weekend. This even though junior Shortstop Michael Handel is the reigning conference Player Of The Week. Handel doubled thrice in Saturday's 11-5 defeat.
The Goofs play that make-up game this (Wednesday) afternoon versus Hamline at Siebert Field. Then, on Friday, they have a special pre-game ceremony where they will turn on the lights at the stadium for the first-ever night game at Siebert against the Penn St. Nittany Lions. They will also play under the lights Saturday before finishing up their trio Sunday afternoon.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -2). My friend was at Saturday's 18-12 loss at Xcel to Colorado. Despite Forward Callum Crawford becoming the Smarm's all-time goal-scorer in the first quarter, the Mammoth blitzed Minnesota in the second quarter 5-1, and they were off to the races.
When I saw on facebook that he was at the game and he typed out the score, I had to comment: "How in the hell did this team go to crap in just a year?" To which my friend replied, "Exactly."
Inexplicable. Well, the owners might be cheap. Or this team will be disbanded after Saturday night's season finale against the Toronto Rock. I am still unshaken from my belief that this will be the last Swarm game ever. That's why I'm going to that game. And I hope to get there soon enough to buy some spaghetti sauce at Cossetta.
#-Infinity: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). Welp, after Wednesday night's 136-130 double overtime loss to The Bastard New Orleans Jazz at Target Center, they finished this season with a record of 40-42. Getting to .500 apparently was the red line that the Woofie Dogs dared not cross, and as soon as it became apparent that reaching the playoffs was a pipe dream for the umpteenth season in a row, having a winning record was the only reasonable positive benchmark this could accomplish. And they couldn't even do that.
Injuries did this year's team in, as well as last year's team. But another statistic should make Timberwolves fans mad: They lost their first 11 games that wound up being decided by four or fewer points. That inability to be clutch when it counts exposed this team as soft and mentally weak, I'm afraid. (I got these stats from Patrick Reusse's autopsy of a column on the Wolves' season. Great distillation on how this season spiraled out of control.)
And then the other shoe dropped Monday, when Head Coach Rick Adelman announced that not only was he stepping down as Head Coach of the Timberwolves, he is retiring after 23 years coaching in the National Basketball Association. While I wish him well, and I hope he can spend as much time as possible with his wife, Mary Kay, I'm not sure if I'm sad to see him go. He will retire as one of eight men who have won 1,000 NBA games -- and since he never won an NBA title, this makes his legacy the quietest, most nondescript ever to probably reach the Basketball Hall of Fame. And despite failing to reach the playoffs in any of his three years here, he did provide a sense of professionalism, stability and competence, three things that were in short supply with this organization, and probably will be scarce now that he's gone.
Nevertheless, I'm a bottom line guy, and the bottom line is he failed to lead this team to the postseason while he was coaching here. This year exposed a bad blind spot: His refusal or inability to trust rookies, as evidenced by the late blooming of Gorgui Deng into a defensive force. Could the T-Wolves be in the postseason if he used Deng more often and earlier in the season? Why not ask what-if? I can understand if people were fed up with the way Adelman handled his roster. I also think Adelman was similarly sick of not reaching the playoffs with promising but meager talent and decided he had enough of it all.
So I can't say Adelman leaving is a huge loss ... and yet I still am mighty afraid for this franchise's future. A Hall of Fame coach was unable to take this team to the postseason and I am still scared we won't get someone with the quarter of his coaching acumen. And then there's Kevin Love possibly wanting to leave ... and Ricky Rubio's reality falling fall short of the stratospheric ceiling people had for him ... and Nikola Pekovic and Kevin Martin continually out of the lineup due to injuries ... and a mid-range pick in what may be The Greatest NBA Draft In History (not to mention a history of drafting busts) ... and no free agent wanting to come up to Minnesota unless they have nowhere else to go. A shake-up might be a good thing for the Woofs, and yet the future of this franchise now looks so darn bleak with Adelman's departure.
The early club Most Valuable Player is Chris Colabello, who leads the league in ... Runs Batted In? Something like that. Joe Mauer, surprisingly, has been quiet. Regardless, while the squad is not playing like gangbusters, they are far above a 90-plus-loss pace.
This road trip is only a week and six games long. They return from T. Bay for a weekend series vs. Detroit, then begin a series hosting the Los Angeles Dodgers Tuesday. Man, I wish had the energy to see my Doyers.
#-2: Wild (Last Week: -1). What a difference one game makes ... at least when it comes to perception. After choking away a two-goal lead to lose Game 1, I really thought this squad was a broken team. If they didn't come back from it, at least they shouldn't. You have a young team on the ropes on the road, and your youthful talent and veteran presence can't close the deal? Those teams should be ashamed of themselves, and they seem to have played like that in Game 2, a 4-2 loss.
The difference, possibly, was switching Goalies. My how the star of Ilya Bryzgalov has fallen. He was undefeated through regulation in his first ten games with the club, but now he's been an absolute sieve. Head Coach Mike Yeo had no choice but to switch it up between the pipes. Darcy Kuemper's first-ever postseason start could not have gone any better: A shutout. Meanwhile, The Bastard Quebec Nordiques' top line, featuring Nathan Mackinnon, a guy who has been featured in every single front page of the sports section to the point of nausea I've seen, has been shut down. I don't think you need home ice, where you get the last line change, to win a National Hockey League series, especially when you had Game 1 in your hands and let it go, but maybe the Wild needed it just to get their bearings. Imagine what would've happened if this team dug themselves a 3-0 hole.
Games 4 through 6 are scheduled for this week. If this team is in next week's WMNSS above -Infinity, they have a Game 7 in Colorado next Wednesday night.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -5). Drop to 6-9 in the Big Ten and 19-16 overall after dropping two-of-three in Iowa over the weekend. This even though junior Shortstop Michael Handel is the reigning conference Player Of The Week. Handel doubled thrice in Saturday's 11-5 defeat.
The Goofs play that make-up game this (Wednesday) afternoon versus Hamline at Siebert Field. Then, on Friday, they have a special pre-game ceremony where they will turn on the lights at the stadium for the first-ever night game at Siebert against the Penn St. Nittany Lions. They will also play under the lights Saturday before finishing up their trio Sunday afternoon.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -2). My friend was at Saturday's 18-12 loss at Xcel to Colorado. Despite Forward Callum Crawford becoming the Smarm's all-time goal-scorer in the first quarter, the Mammoth blitzed Minnesota in the second quarter 5-1, and they were off to the races.
When I saw on facebook that he was at the game and he typed out the score, I had to comment: "How in the hell did this team go to crap in just a year?" To which my friend replied, "Exactly."
Inexplicable. Well, the owners might be cheap. Or this team will be disbanded after Saturday night's season finale against the Toronto Rock. I am still unshaken from my belief that this will be the last Swarm game ever. That's why I'm going to that game. And I hope to get there soon enough to buy some spaghetti sauce at Cossetta.
#-Infinity: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). Welp, after Wednesday night's 136-130 double overtime loss to The Bastard New Orleans Jazz at Target Center, they finished this season with a record of 40-42. Getting to .500 apparently was the red line that the Woofie Dogs dared not cross, and as soon as it became apparent that reaching the playoffs was a pipe dream for the umpteenth season in a row, having a winning record was the only reasonable positive benchmark this could accomplish. And they couldn't even do that.
Injuries did this year's team in, as well as last year's team. But another statistic should make Timberwolves fans mad: They lost their first 11 games that wound up being decided by four or fewer points. That inability to be clutch when it counts exposed this team as soft and mentally weak, I'm afraid. (I got these stats from Patrick Reusse's autopsy of a column on the Wolves' season. Great distillation on how this season spiraled out of control.)
And then the other shoe dropped Monday, when Head Coach Rick Adelman announced that not only was he stepping down as Head Coach of the Timberwolves, he is retiring after 23 years coaching in the National Basketball Association. While I wish him well, and I hope he can spend as much time as possible with his wife, Mary Kay, I'm not sure if I'm sad to see him go. He will retire as one of eight men who have won 1,000 NBA games -- and since he never won an NBA title, this makes his legacy the quietest, most nondescript ever to probably reach the Basketball Hall of Fame. And despite failing to reach the playoffs in any of his three years here, he did provide a sense of professionalism, stability and competence, three things that were in short supply with this organization, and probably will be scarce now that he's gone.
Nevertheless, I'm a bottom line guy, and the bottom line is he failed to lead this team to the postseason while he was coaching here. This year exposed a bad blind spot: His refusal or inability to trust rookies, as evidenced by the late blooming of Gorgui Deng into a defensive force. Could the T-Wolves be in the postseason if he used Deng more often and earlier in the season? Why not ask what-if? I can understand if people were fed up with the way Adelman handled his roster. I also think Adelman was similarly sick of not reaching the playoffs with promising but meager talent and decided he had enough of it all.
So I can't say Adelman leaving is a huge loss ... and yet I still am mighty afraid for this franchise's future. A Hall of Fame coach was unable to take this team to the postseason and I am still scared we won't get someone with the quarter of his coaching acumen. And then there's Kevin Love possibly wanting to leave ... and Ricky Rubio's reality falling fall short of the stratospheric ceiling people had for him ... and Nikola Pekovic and Kevin Martin continually out of the lineup due to injuries ... and a mid-range pick in what may be The Greatest NBA Draft In History (not to mention a history of drafting busts) ... and no free agent wanting to come up to Minnesota unless they have nowhere else to go. A shake-up might be a good thing for the Woofs, and yet the future of this franchise now looks so darn bleak with Adelman's departure.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
$2,500? Ha-Ha-Ha, That's Funny
That's the total estimate of repairs for my car -- and I don't even know if the reattachment of the sway bar is even part of that total. This includes the taillight warning light on the dash (which they insist is a result of a broken taillight) and the reason for the Check Engine light, a fuel injector.
The big repairs, however, came when they finally were able to pull the engine out of its housing. There are leaks out of the engine because of two things, the oil pan gasket and the valve cover gasket. Also, the coolant leak is the result of yet another gasket which I didn't catch over the phone conversation I had with The Mechanic Around The Corner. Assuming the fuel injector is the same price as the one I had replaced a year and a half ago, each of the gaskets (assuming they are all the same price) are $600 each.
Well, this will crimp into my stripper account.
I don't question that my engine and coolant system have leaks that need repair. I'm not calling these guys liars. But really, do I need to get these gaskets sealed? These sound like they've been broken and leaking for some time, and the car drove just fine. Do I really need to get them fixed? Because if I get the whole hog fixed, that basically eats up all the money I'll be making on my current project. And I keep bitching about the fact that I keep working and yet my checking account remains meager.
There is a serenity I feel after hearing this estimate. I had no idea it would be this high, but I have to admit that hearing such an exorbitant amount removes all the angst I feel about whether or not to pay for it. My thinking is, simply, "No." I love this car, I really do. My take is, The Mechanic Around The Corner will give me a list of priorities, and I think I am willing to spend money right now on sealing one gasket. And if I get more money down the line, maybe by the time my parents take another vacation, I'll get the next one on the priority list fixed. But I cannot and will not be beholden to giving all my money to my car, not anymore. I've got to draw the line somewhere. I want to see the money I earned in my account, at least for a little while.
Besides, between the sway bar and sealing up the leak in my driver's-side front wheel, not to mention the oil change and tire rotate, I'm already spending a lot of money to keep my baby upright. I think it can deal with three leaky gaskets. Well, I hope. And really, if it can't, I think it's time to just let it go. Really.
The big repairs, however, came when they finally were able to pull the engine out of its housing. There are leaks out of the engine because of two things, the oil pan gasket and the valve cover gasket. Also, the coolant leak is the result of yet another gasket which I didn't catch over the phone conversation I had with The Mechanic Around The Corner. Assuming the fuel injector is the same price as the one I had replaced a year and a half ago, each of the gaskets (assuming they are all the same price) are $600 each.
Well, this will crimp into my stripper account.
I don't question that my engine and coolant system have leaks that need repair. I'm not calling these guys liars. But really, do I need to get these gaskets sealed? These sound like they've been broken and leaking for some time, and the car drove just fine. Do I really need to get them fixed? Because if I get the whole hog fixed, that basically eats up all the money I'll be making on my current project. And I keep bitching about the fact that I keep working and yet my checking account remains meager.
There is a serenity I feel after hearing this estimate. I had no idea it would be this high, but I have to admit that hearing such an exorbitant amount removes all the angst I feel about whether or not to pay for it. My thinking is, simply, "No." I love this car, I really do. My take is, The Mechanic Around The Corner will give me a list of priorities, and I think I am willing to spend money right now on sealing one gasket. And if I get more money down the line, maybe by the time my parents take another vacation, I'll get the next one on the priority list fixed. But I cannot and will not be beholden to giving all my money to my car, not anymore. I've got to draw the line somewhere. I want to see the money I earned in my account, at least for a little while.
Besides, between the sway bar and sealing up the leak in my driver's-side front wheel, not to mention the oil change and tire rotate, I'm already spending a lot of money to keep my baby upright. I think it can deal with three leaky gaskets. Well, I hope. And really, if it can't, I think it's time to just let it go. Really.
Monday, April 21, 2014
So, This One Asshole At Work ...
He's one to push the boundaries of our rules, and in fact sometimes breaks them. He's not where he's supposed to be, he does the opposite of what we tell him to do, and generally he thinks he's above everybody else.
This guy's an asshole. And now that we're gearing up on this project, I'm very afraid that I will have so much frustration with his juvenile behavior that one day I'll just go off on him. But I'm really scared of what happens next -- namely that this dick will continue to flout our rules, and, more importantly, my co-workers and boss will let him continue to do that. This despite the fact that I am trying to enforce my boss' rules.
I'm just looking for consistency, that's all. If I had my druthers, I would allow the room to be a little more liberal that my boss has it -- or at least my boss says she wants it. But this is her room, and she has stated her rules, and I intend to enforce them. Of course, enforcement is impossible without consequences, and flowing from that is the need for support. I would need someone to back me up on this. And so far, with this asshole doing the equivalent of being told not to take a cookie from the cookie jar, taking a cookie from the cookie jar, and eating it with a grin on his face while he's looking at you, backup is a joke.
Apparently he's been this sniveling little shit for years now. So he's been a drag, breaking the rules here and there, and it seems as if my boss and her boss are letting him get away with it. If so, why the fuck do you have the rules in place? And then, why not let everybody do anything they want? I don't say that with exasperation; I kind of sincerely mean that. It would be easier if you didn't set down so many rules, but damn it, if there are going to be rules, make damn sure you spend the energy to enforce them -- and to help the people who are trying to help you enforce them.
I don't see that now. I see my co-workers mutter under their breath at him, him responding to any weak comment one of us would have indirectly addressing that he's not doing what we asked him to do with a snide, passive-aggressive insult/dig to challenge us to do something about it, then them chatting him up anyway. It's not just weird, it's maddening. Do you want this guy to follow the rules or do you want him to be your friend?
I have decided to keep my distance from him. Better to do that if and when I have the ability to hammer his ass, or to throw his shit out of the room when he's not supposed to be in there. I don't need to buddy up to this prick when all my co-workers genuinely like the guy. And they do genuinely like the guy ... and then note he likes to challenge the rules of the room. Ah, I'm not going to play that game with him. I might have done so with other people, and I probably will with other people in the future, but not with this dick.
God, I hope he gets it.
This guy's an asshole. And now that we're gearing up on this project, I'm very afraid that I will have so much frustration with his juvenile behavior that one day I'll just go off on him. But I'm really scared of what happens next -- namely that this dick will continue to flout our rules, and, more importantly, my co-workers and boss will let him continue to do that. This despite the fact that I am trying to enforce my boss' rules.
I'm just looking for consistency, that's all. If I had my druthers, I would allow the room to be a little more liberal that my boss has it -- or at least my boss says she wants it. But this is her room, and she has stated her rules, and I intend to enforce them. Of course, enforcement is impossible without consequences, and flowing from that is the need for support. I would need someone to back me up on this. And so far, with this asshole doing the equivalent of being told not to take a cookie from the cookie jar, taking a cookie from the cookie jar, and eating it with a grin on his face while he's looking at you, backup is a joke.
Apparently he's been this sniveling little shit for years now. So he's been a drag, breaking the rules here and there, and it seems as if my boss and her boss are letting him get away with it. If so, why the fuck do you have the rules in place? And then, why not let everybody do anything they want? I don't say that with exasperation; I kind of sincerely mean that. It would be easier if you didn't set down so many rules, but damn it, if there are going to be rules, make damn sure you spend the energy to enforce them -- and to help the people who are trying to help you enforce them.
I don't see that now. I see my co-workers mutter under their breath at him, him responding to any weak comment one of us would have indirectly addressing that he's not doing what we asked him to do with a snide, passive-aggressive insult/dig to challenge us to do something about it, then them chatting him up anyway. It's not just weird, it's maddening. Do you want this guy to follow the rules or do you want him to be your friend?
I have decided to keep my distance from him. Better to do that if and when I have the ability to hammer his ass, or to throw his shit out of the room when he's not supposed to be in there. I don't need to buddy up to this prick when all my co-workers genuinely like the guy. And they do genuinely like the guy ... and then note he likes to challenge the rules of the room. Ah, I'm not going to play that game with him. I might have done so with other people, and I probably will with other people in the future, but not with this dick.
God, I hope he gets it.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
NCAA Tournament Anti-Picks, Final
Record, Round Six: 0-1
Overall Record: 14-27-1
Total Outlay, Round Six: $200.00
Total Winnings, Round Six: $0
Loss, Round Six: $200.00
Overall Loss: $355.93
Well, that sucked. I was sure that Kentucky would win by outscoring UConn. I was also sure that UConn would win by holding down the score against Kentucky. Whether the total would go Over or Under the total of 134.5 would depend on who I think will win. And since I had no idea on which team would win since I didn't think either team would even reach the championship game, well, I was left with a shot in the dark. I went with the Over because I thought the final score before the tournament began would be Florida 70, Arizona 69.
And it turns out that the Huskies won and they did it by ... well, the Wildcats missing so many free throws late helped a lot, but UConn controlled Kentucky and bent them to their slow pace. In this most unpredictable of Big Dances, it ends the way it begins: With me picking wrong for the wrong reasons. Sorry guys, but goddammit, if Florida had only beaten the spread against Dayton instead of merely pushing, I would have enough money to stop picking instead of going through two more rounds of humiliation. Well, I shouldn't sorry to those who I invited to pick against me, as evidenced by the title I give to these hypothetical wagers. But I was so close, and then I was pushed into saving myself, and I failed, I just flat-out fucking failed.
---
One other thing I have to note. I do Anti-Picks three times: College football, the National Football League, and the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament. I think I've been awful overall. But I think this is the first time I finished losing money in all three sports in the same season. That's ... awful.
Overall Record: 14-27-1
Total Outlay, Round Six: $200.00
Total Winnings, Round Six: $0
Loss, Round Six: $200.00
Overall Loss: $355.93
Well, that sucked. I was sure that Kentucky would win by outscoring UConn. I was also sure that UConn would win by holding down the score against Kentucky. Whether the total would go Over or Under the total of 134.5 would depend on who I think will win. And since I had no idea on which team would win since I didn't think either team would even reach the championship game, well, I was left with a shot in the dark. I went with the Over because I thought the final score before the tournament began would be Florida 70, Arizona 69.
And it turns out that the Huskies won and they did it by ... well, the Wildcats missing so many free throws late helped a lot, but UConn controlled Kentucky and bent them to their slow pace. In this most unpredictable of Big Dances, it ends the way it begins: With me picking wrong for the wrong reasons. Sorry guys, but goddammit, if Florida had only beaten the spread against Dayton instead of merely pushing, I would have enough money to stop picking instead of going through two more rounds of humiliation. Well, I shouldn't sorry to those who I invited to pick against me, as evidenced by the title I give to these hypothetical wagers. But I was so close, and then I was pushed into saving myself, and I failed, I just flat-out fucking failed.
---
One other thing I have to note. I do Anti-Picks three times: College football, the National Football League, and the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament. I think I've been awful overall. But I think this is the first time I finished losing money in all three sports in the same season. That's ... awful.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Five Things Today
1) Don't tell my folks this. Mother left me a float of money because she wants to round up any checks that come in for them to the next dollar. Well, as long as there's free money at home, I might as put it in my checking account, right? It's safe in there, I can accrue more interest if there's more money in my account, if I know they're coming I can easily go to the bank and take it back out, and, most importantly, I can feel good that I have money in my account, even if it's a lie. Now I just hope I don't forget the amount of money I put into my checking account.
2) I finally reached today, the day I can bring my car in to get that litany of problems looked at. Hopefully it won't cost me an arm and a leg, but even if it does, since I'm working at the moment I have some money to throw at the problem(s). I'm also very fortunate that I have the house to myself and my parents' minivan at my disposal. It is even a luxury to have my car in the shop and not skip a beat.
3) With having to walk home and not really having anything to do, at least not until 11:30's English Premier League game (Sunderland @ Chelsea, FYI) on free NBC, I decided this was the time to try out the food at the cafeteria at the hospital. Now what person just decides to eat at the hospital cafeteria? I think I remember eating at this place one time because Grandmother was there.
The one problem was I had to fit this in in the 10 o'clock hour. I find that hour to be weirdest time to eat. Before that, even a quarter to 10, you can see yourself eating breakfast. And to me, 11 always meant you can start eating lunch. But 10? What's that? Maybe it's a great time for brunch, but today's Saturday, not Sunday.
The cafeteria also recognizes this hour as no-man's land, because when I got there they weren't ready for lunch, yet there were no breakfast items to eat besides any prepared food you could get from a grocery store. They did, however, have soup out, and a few minutes they got the salad bar set up, so I kind of broke my rules and ate a lunch, a soup and salad, before 11. Forgive me.
Oh, and the irony is I missed the beginning of the match. I was in the bathroom, having a scatological moment after eating that soup and salad.
4) Yesterday Father told me that I need to contact the contractor that redid the house last year. Apparently a pipe broke and Father only trusts this guy to fix it.
The problem came when I asked Father what this guy's name is. "I don't know," he said, "He just calls me buddy." How the hell don't you know the name of a stranger you allowed into your home for two months?
5) Father has asked me to send him the sleeping pills he forgot to pack. He'd damn well better not nag me if I forget something at home when I'm travelling.
He doesn't want me to send the bottle; he wants me to put the pills in a flat bag, then put the bag in an envelope. Makes sense, but I hope it's not so fat that sending it will cost more than a stamp.
2) I finally reached today, the day I can bring my car in to get that litany of problems looked at. Hopefully it won't cost me an arm and a leg, but even if it does, since I'm working at the moment I have some money to throw at the problem(s). I'm also very fortunate that I have the house to myself and my parents' minivan at my disposal. It is even a luxury to have my car in the shop and not skip a beat.
3) With having to walk home and not really having anything to do, at least not until 11:30's English Premier League game (Sunderland @ Chelsea, FYI) on free NBC, I decided this was the time to try out the food at the cafeteria at the hospital. Now what person just decides to eat at the hospital cafeteria? I think I remember eating at this place one time because Grandmother was there.
The one problem was I had to fit this in in the 10 o'clock hour. I find that hour to be weirdest time to eat. Before that, even a quarter to 10, you can see yourself eating breakfast. And to me, 11 always meant you can start eating lunch. But 10? What's that? Maybe it's a great time for brunch, but today's Saturday, not Sunday.
The cafeteria also recognizes this hour as no-man's land, because when I got there they weren't ready for lunch, yet there were no breakfast items to eat besides any prepared food you could get from a grocery store. They did, however, have soup out, and a few minutes they got the salad bar set up, so I kind of broke my rules and ate a lunch, a soup and salad, before 11. Forgive me.
Oh, and the irony is I missed the beginning of the match. I was in the bathroom, having a scatological moment after eating that soup and salad.
4) Yesterday Father told me that I need to contact the contractor that redid the house last year. Apparently a pipe broke and Father only trusts this guy to fix it.
The problem came when I asked Father what this guy's name is. "I don't know," he said, "He just calls me buddy." How the hell don't you know the name of a stranger you allowed into your home for two months?
5) Father has asked me to send him the sleeping pills he forgot to pack. He'd damn well better not nag me if I forget something at home when I'm travelling.
He doesn't want me to send the bottle; he wants me to put the pills in a flat bag, then put the bag in an envelope. Makes sense, but I hope it's not so fat that sending it will cost more than a stamp.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Her Dark Side Again
So far, so good, I guess, for the new job. But I kind of noticed something about one of my former supervisors, now a co-worker.
We have this bureaucratic policy of signing in twice, probably for double-checking. We're supposed to do it electronically, then write it down on a sheet. I told the employees it was the other way yesterday and I apologized to the entire room.
At the end of our day, I saw this person swipe out. What we're supposed to do, cumbersome as it is, is then sign out. "Hey, did you sign out yet?" I asked.
To which she quickly responded, "Yes," all in one motion from swipe to leaving, without looking back at me.
Okaaaaaaaaaaay.
She's been generally nice the four years I've worked on this project with her around. But I remember one time she snapped at me. It was my first year, and I was just asking her a question by kind of stating what I thought of the answer I was trying to grade, and as soon as I started on my spiel, she snapped at me, hard: "Can I look at this paper first? Can I?" I sarcastically said, "Sure, be my guest, just trying to help."
Nothing ever came of that afterward, at least until this. It's as if she never even remembered she yelled at me. That's not just weird; I find it kind of disingenuous. When you yell at someone, you permanently damage your relationship with that person, even if it's infinitesimally slight. I don't understand why other people don't feel the same way. I mean, we get along just fine, and I'm sure we'll just work together. But I find it strange, and not a little bit disrespectful, that'll she'll just act like nothing happened. Come on, now -- everything happened, that time four years ago and right after work.
I think there's a dark side to her. She can be gracious and quite charming, but my most vivid memories of her is when she's quiet, surly, short-tempered and even a bit bitter. That belies her religious leanings, for sure.
We have this bureaucratic policy of signing in twice, probably for double-checking. We're supposed to do it electronically, then write it down on a sheet. I told the employees it was the other way yesterday and I apologized to the entire room.
At the end of our day, I saw this person swipe out. What we're supposed to do, cumbersome as it is, is then sign out. "Hey, did you sign out yet?" I asked.
To which she quickly responded, "Yes," all in one motion from swipe to leaving, without looking back at me.
Okaaaaaaaaaaay.
She's been generally nice the four years I've worked on this project with her around. But I remember one time she snapped at me. It was my first year, and I was just asking her a question by kind of stating what I thought of the answer I was trying to grade, and as soon as I started on my spiel, she snapped at me, hard: "Can I look at this paper first? Can I?" I sarcastically said, "Sure, be my guest, just trying to help."
Nothing ever came of that afterward, at least until this. It's as if she never even remembered she yelled at me. That's not just weird; I find it kind of disingenuous. When you yell at someone, you permanently damage your relationship with that person, even if it's infinitesimally slight. I don't understand why other people don't feel the same way. I mean, we get along just fine, and I'm sure we'll just work together. But I find it strange, and not a little bit disrespectful, that'll she'll just act like nothing happened. Come on, now -- everything happened, that time four years ago and right after work.
I think there's a dark side to her. She can be gracious and quite charming, but my most vivid memories of her is when she's quiet, surly, short-tempered and even a bit bitter. That belies her religious leanings, for sure.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
SNOW AGAIN?!?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!
There's snow. Fuckin' A, there's snow. It's April 16, and there's snow. Swear to fucking God, there's snow.
No, not snow showers or flurries. Full-blown snow. In fact, it's a blizzard, a motherfucking blizzard. I don't know about this, but the latest snow total from a city that's closest to me says that there's been, get this, nine inches, nine fucking goddamn inches. That's how much fell in last month's blizzard, which was also supposed to be the last fucking snowstorm of the year.
What really sucks is that there was no way we were supposed to have this much snow. We weren't supposed to have any until a few days ago, when the track of this low-pressure system was projected to sock Central Minnesota. Maybe we would have some slush, but there was a chance we'd have some rain. And then last night we were supposed to have, at most, four inches while parts north was going to take it in the ass. But I just looked out at my back deck now, and oh my fucking God, the depth of snow there may be as high as it's ever been after any snowstorm this winter. AND IT'S APRIL 16!!!
I drove my parents' minivan because of the problems with my car. It skidded off to the side when I tried to get up onto my driveway. This is bad; the snow will melt as soon as the sun comes out today (Buddha willing), but until then the rain/snow mix that fell this afternoon has frozen as it's about 32 degrees. I hope I won't encounter any issues backing/sliding down the driveway tomorrow morning.
And that's assuming I can get out of the driveway. There is no fucking way I would should have to worry that a plow will keep my street clear by dumping the snow on the street up to our property. But there is so much snow already that if they do, it'll dam the end of my driveway. And guess what? The shovel (as well as the snowplow) has already been stashed in the shed. I would have been able to take it out if I didn't work tonight, but now this snow has fallen, I got home at around 11 and I have to do these scholarship applications, so I can't shovel or plow. I'm just going to wait it out and let the snow melt -- even though I have no idea if it's too much to melt away tomorrow. Fuck my life.
GODDAMN YOU, YOU FUCKING WINTER. WHY THE FUCK WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
No, not snow showers or flurries. Full-blown snow. In fact, it's a blizzard, a motherfucking blizzard. I don't know about this, but the latest snow total from a city that's closest to me says that there's been, get this, nine inches, nine fucking goddamn inches. That's how much fell in last month's blizzard, which was also supposed to be the last fucking snowstorm of the year.
What really sucks is that there was no way we were supposed to have this much snow. We weren't supposed to have any until a few days ago, when the track of this low-pressure system was projected to sock Central Minnesota. Maybe we would have some slush, but there was a chance we'd have some rain. And then last night we were supposed to have, at most, four inches while parts north was going to take it in the ass. But I just looked out at my back deck now, and oh my fucking God, the depth of snow there may be as high as it's ever been after any snowstorm this winter. AND IT'S APRIL 16!!!
I drove my parents' minivan because of the problems with my car. It skidded off to the side when I tried to get up onto my driveway. This is bad; the snow will melt as soon as the sun comes out today (Buddha willing), but until then the rain/snow mix that fell this afternoon has frozen as it's about 32 degrees. I hope I won't encounter any issues backing/sliding down the driveway tomorrow morning.
And that's assuming I can get out of the driveway. There is no fucking way I would should have to worry that a plow will keep my street clear by dumping the snow on the street up to our property. But there is so much snow already that if they do, it'll dam the end of my driveway. And guess what? The shovel (as well as the snowplow) has already been stashed in the shed. I would have been able to take it out if I didn't work tonight, but now this snow has fallen, I got home at around 11 and I have to do these scholarship applications, so I can't shovel or plow. I'm just going to wait it out and let the snow melt -- even though I have no idea if it's too much to melt away tomorrow. Fuck my life.
GODDAMN YOU, YOU FUCKING WINTER. WHY THE FUCK WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Wild (Last Week: 0). Finished the regular season with a win over St. Louis and a loss over Nashville (which turned out to be the last game of Predators Head Coach Barry Trotz, the only HC the franchise has ever known; he had been at the helm since the Preds were born in 1997 until he was shitcanned by the only General Manager the franchise has ever known, David Poile, on Monday). Didn't really matter, either game, but seeing as we are Minnesotans, and thus pessimistic, we have to gripe about something, and that something is Ilya Bryzgalov, the trade deadline pick-up who has become the Mild's starting goaltender.
Ever since he began his tenure between the pipes winning seven-out-of-ten, he's become the mercurial netminder that convinced at least three teams to let him go. What fans thought was a sudden strength now becomes a huge question mark going into their first round Stanley Cup Playoff series against The Bastard Quebec Nordiques -- although not knowing if speedster Mikael Granlund will be back from injury is also important to note and worry about.
The good thing is the opponent. I think it's better that the Wild's first foe is the Colorado Avalanche and not the defending Stanley Cup champion Chicago Blackhawks, the Anaheim Ducks, which has the best record in the Western Conference, and or the best team on paper, the St. Louis Blues. Two of their top players will miss at least the majority of this series. Their defensemen are young and very green. Most importantly, the sabremetric Corsi stat shows that this team does not possess the puck for one that one its division. Chances are, they say, that a veteran team with some bite on the forecheck will finally expose the Avalanche D and turn the puck over in Minnesota's offensive zone. Plus, it's hockey, where upsets happen all the time.
In fact, I can see a path where the North Stars v.2.0. can (brace yourselves) make it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals. This year the NHL has reverted back mostly to the playoff format a grew up with as a kid, where the first two rounds are intra-division. If the Wild win against Colorado, they will face either a Blues team that has been slipping of late (mirrored by star acquisition, Goalie Ryan Miller) or a Blackhawks club that some people believe has gotten fat and arrogant. And after that? The Ducks, who are powerful but only really have one fantastic line? Or the chronically underachieving San Jose Sharks? They might (OK, probably) get rolled by a Boston or Pittsburgh in the last series, but it'll be a local hockey team playing above their heads for once.
We shall see. By this time next week, Games 1 through 3 shall be in the books.
#-2: Swarm (Last Week: -5). Welp, the bad news is the Smarm were finally eliminated from postseason play last weekend. But the good news is they beat Buffalo Saturday 10-9 in a game where, according to the Smarm internal report, the team played for pride. Ah, yes, pride, the last stand of the truly delusional.
Yeah, I've got nothing else. The second game of a three-game end to the regular season (and possibly franchise?) this Saturday against Colorado.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -3). They eventually got swept at home by Oakland, a very good team, and then swept Kansas City, supposedly an up-and-coming team, at Target Field over the weekend before starting a midweek series with a 9-3 loss against Toronto (which ends the Twinks' first homestand of the season) Tuesday/Jackie Robinson Day/Tax Day. Phil Hughes finally cratered in the sixth inning to break open that game for the Blue Jays.
No trends really to speak of. Could talk about the anemic hitting, but that's nothing new. Two more vs. Toronto before hitting the road for series against the Royals and the Tampa Bay Rays.
#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -1). Loss at home to Chicago, win at home over Houston in a game in which Corey Brewer, Corey fucking Brewer of all people scores 51 (!!! -- hello, Tony Delk!) but lightly-scoring Gorgui Deng wins the game on a scramble fadeaway. The Woofie Dogs then lose leads on the road against Sacramento and Golden State. They now sit at 40-41 with one final game/shot at reaching .500 at Target Center vs. Utah this (Wednesday) evening. The hand-wringing can come next week, but with all the pieces this organization has, it still feels as if they need to go through yet another rebuilding project.
#-5: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). Well, any hopes of the Goofs Nine reaching the College World Series were dashed when Nebraska swept a three-game series at Siebert Field. At least they didn't finish the screening week winless. They beat North Dakota St. Tuesday, even though they originally were scheduled to play them Wednesday. The Gophers had an opponent lined up for Tuesday: Hamline, a game that got postponed because of rescheduled conference games on Hamline's end. With that date free, the U. apparently looked at the potential for some snowfall in the Twin Cities Wednesday (which looks like as of tonight, however, will move just north of MSP) and asked the Bison to come down to Dinkytownand dodge the riot debris to play the U. a day early. Guess college baseball teams are flexible like that. This weekend they hit the road down to Iowa for three.
#-Infinity: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). You know what? I'm still bitter. Yes, I am. Union's a good team, but they're a small team, and goddammit, we're the University of Minnesota, and I still feel we, all of us, got embarrassed by that title game loss.
For some reason I'm taking this defeat harder than the Gopher women's hockey team NCAA championship game upset to another 3-seeded small Northeast university that has no other team in Division I and has never won a title in any other sport until they victimized the Gophers this year. I'm taking this worse than the U. wrestling squad finished second to Penn St. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I went to at least a half-dozen games and felt an affinity towards them, one that thus makes it hard to shake when that extension of you fails you when it counts the most.
Oh, and I believe the riots are the hockey club's fault. Yeah, the rioting bullshit would have been a lot worse if they won, but ... I still believe it was the team's fault.
I think I could go on, but it's better that I don't. It's past 1:30 in the morning, I have to wake up in five hours for a big day ahead of me, and I'm tired. Probably best this way; if I did have the time and energy to complete this WMNSS, I think I would have popped a vein in my heart going into further detail about what a fucking disgrace this loss was.
Ever since he began his tenure between the pipes winning seven-out-of-ten, he's become the mercurial netminder that convinced at least three teams to let him go. What fans thought was a sudden strength now becomes a huge question mark going into their first round Stanley Cup Playoff series against The Bastard Quebec Nordiques -- although not knowing if speedster Mikael Granlund will be back from injury is also important to note and worry about.
The good thing is the opponent. I think it's better that the Wild's first foe is the Colorado Avalanche and not the defending Stanley Cup champion Chicago Blackhawks, the Anaheim Ducks, which has the best record in the Western Conference, and or the best team on paper, the St. Louis Blues. Two of their top players will miss at least the majority of this series. Their defensemen are young and very green. Most importantly, the sabremetric Corsi stat shows that this team does not possess the puck for one that one its division. Chances are, they say, that a veteran team with some bite on the forecheck will finally expose the Avalanche D and turn the puck over in Minnesota's offensive zone. Plus, it's hockey, where upsets happen all the time.
In fact, I can see a path where the North Stars v.2.0. can (brace yourselves) make it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals. This year the NHL has reverted back mostly to the playoff format a grew up with as a kid, where the first two rounds are intra-division. If the Wild win against Colorado, they will face either a Blues team that has been slipping of late (mirrored by star acquisition, Goalie Ryan Miller) or a Blackhawks club that some people believe has gotten fat and arrogant. And after that? The Ducks, who are powerful but only really have one fantastic line? Or the chronically underachieving San Jose Sharks? They might (OK, probably) get rolled by a Boston or Pittsburgh in the last series, but it'll be a local hockey team playing above their heads for once.
We shall see. By this time next week, Games 1 through 3 shall be in the books.
#-2: Swarm (Last Week: -5). Welp, the bad news is the Smarm were finally eliminated from postseason play last weekend. But the good news is they beat Buffalo Saturday 10-9 in a game where, according to the Smarm internal report, the team played for pride. Ah, yes, pride, the last stand of the truly delusional.
Yeah, I've got nothing else. The second game of a three-game end to the regular season (and possibly franchise?) this Saturday against Colorado.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -3). They eventually got swept at home by Oakland, a very good team, and then swept Kansas City, supposedly an up-and-coming team, at Target Field over the weekend before starting a midweek series with a 9-3 loss against Toronto (which ends the Twinks' first homestand of the season) Tuesday/Jackie Robinson Day/Tax Day. Phil Hughes finally cratered in the sixth inning to break open that game for the Blue Jays.
No trends really to speak of. Could talk about the anemic hitting, but that's nothing new. Two more vs. Toronto before hitting the road for series against the Royals and the Tampa Bay Rays.
#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -1). Loss at home to Chicago, win at home over Houston in a game in which Corey Brewer, Corey fucking Brewer of all people scores 51 (!!! -- hello, Tony Delk!) but lightly-scoring Gorgui Deng wins the game on a scramble fadeaway. The Woofie Dogs then lose leads on the road against Sacramento and Golden State. They now sit at 40-41 with one final game/shot at reaching .500 at Target Center vs. Utah this (Wednesday) evening. The hand-wringing can come next week, but with all the pieces this organization has, it still feels as if they need to go through yet another rebuilding project.
#-5: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). Well, any hopes of the Goofs Nine reaching the College World Series were dashed when Nebraska swept a three-game series at Siebert Field. At least they didn't finish the screening week winless. They beat North Dakota St. Tuesday, even though they originally were scheduled to play them Wednesday. The Gophers had an opponent lined up for Tuesday: Hamline, a game that got postponed because of rescheduled conference games on Hamline's end. With that date free, the U. apparently looked at the potential for some snowfall in the Twin Cities Wednesday (which looks like as of tonight, however, will move just north of MSP) and asked the Bison to come down to Dinkytown
#-Infinity: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). You know what? I'm still bitter. Yes, I am. Union's a good team, but they're a small team, and goddammit, we're the University of Minnesota, and I still feel we, all of us, got embarrassed by that title game loss.
For some reason I'm taking this defeat harder than the Gopher women's hockey team NCAA championship game upset to another 3-seeded small Northeast university that has no other team in Division I and has never won a title in any other sport until they victimized the Gophers this year. I'm taking this worse than the U. wrestling squad finished second to Penn St. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I went to at least a half-dozen games and felt an affinity towards them, one that thus makes it hard to shake when that extension of you fails you when it counts the most.
Oh, and I believe the riots are the hockey club's fault. Yeah, the rioting bullshit would have been a lot worse if they won, but ... I still believe it was the team's fault.
I think I could go on, but it's better that I don't. It's past 1:30 in the morning, I have to wake up in five hours for a big day ahead of me, and I'm tired. Probably best this way; if I did have the time and energy to complete this WMNSS, I think I would have popped a vein in my heart going into further detail about what a fucking disgrace this loss was.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Oh, Have I Told You About My Heart Beating Out Of My Chest?
I've felt my heart beat out of my chest for a large part of my life, but it's gotten a lot worse since I began my flu biller job. It's not just a big beating heart; although I have felt pain on my left side (mostly my shoulder and chest) also for a long time, it has gotten more pronounced more often since Labor Day. I just chalked it up to having to grow up and getting a steady job, even if it's only temporary.
But it's gotten worse, much worse. Lately -- and I wish I knew when exactly it started, but maybe a couple weeks ago, or maybe earlier than that, specifically the time when my car really started to act up -- my heart has really started to pump out of my chest, I mean like really. Maybe the stress over my car's myriad problems caused my arteries to really restrict, but I feel pain in my chest a lot nowadays. What's worse, and more troubling, is that I feel this pain when I'm sleeping. It's shocking to feel your heart beating so hard that you can't fall asleep because of it. I don't know if it's stress or my work day or maybe even the nightmares I've been having, but I try to go to sleep and then I feel blood either getting shoved or trying to leave my heart. It feels like it's ... malfunctioning.
It kind of bothers me at all parts of the day now. Whenever I work or my down time, morning or night, it's there at times. I thought that it was all just due to some pent-up energy, and the way to relax myself is to concentrate on something, like exercise or the task at hand. It works for a bit, but then the pounding in my chest comes back.
I have other things wrong with me too, at least today. I'm kind of feeling dizzy. That's happened at times, but they've always passed. I notice it today because it's happening along with the heart thing. I hope it's just because I haven't eaten anything substantial, although once I got home from work late last (Monday) night I gorged on some crackers and grapefruit. And just now, while writing her on my laptop, I'm seeing bright spots whenever I quickly look left-to-right and back again.
One other thing: I feel a bump around my asshole. Is that another anal fistula forming right next to the seton that (at least supposedly) removed my old one? The doctor said that fistulas are a sign of Crohn's Disease -- and another symptom of that is dizziness.
Or there could be a more straightforward illness. When getting prepped for getting this seton up my butt, I did visit the doctor twice in the past eight months. Of course they check your vitals, height, weight and blood pressure. Each of the last two times, for the first time in my lifetime, my systolic number, the top number, was borderline. It had been normal, even well below normal, for as long as I can remember. But just as I began to have acute pain in my chest, the blood pressure seems to prove I'm not being a hypochondriac.
The nurse at the time asked me if I've ever been on blood pressure medicine. I said no with an incredulous tone, as if I were offended that she thought I was in my fifties. It may turn out that she was right.
Can't go to the doctor; too busy, and I don't think they keep evening hours. So I deal. Maybe the stress of my parents being at home will subside soon, and I can really relax during the weekends where all I need to do is stay in bed all day. Could it be all the coffee I drink to stay alert at work? Or, maybe unemployment is the best thing for me; if my heart's beating because I work, maybe no work means no heart beating out of my chest. Then again, at that point I'll have the time to get my heart checked out, so maybe I'll both find out the diagnosis and "get" the treatment.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Will They Respect Me? (Scheduled Post)
So I start having people under me tomorrow. I think this is the first time I've ever done anything like this, and it's scaring the shit out of me. What if they disrespect me? What if I tell them something that turns out to be wrong? What if they ask a question and I don't know what to say; will they start questioning me?
And I wonder if this is going to devolve into junior high school and high school. I'm just trying to work and a couple scorers are talking to each other and not doing their jobs -- or worse, they're talking shit about me. What if they start talking behind my back about not liking me? What if they confront me? Will they challenge my authority, even my manhood?
We'll see, I guess.
And I wonder if this is going to devolve into junior high school and high school. I'm just trying to work and a couple scorers are talking to each other and not doing their jobs -- or worse, they're talking shit about me. What if they start talking behind my back about not liking me? What if they confront me? Will they challenge my authority, even my manhood?
We'll see, I guess.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Well, this afternoon, trying to scratch and/or wash away the stench of loserdom the University of Minnesota Golden Gopher men's hockey team stained on my skin, I took a walk around the area where both the community center I work out in (although I didn't this weekend; taxes to do, among other things) and the library I sometimes go to are. The city gets a bad rap, but when you really look, it's like any other suburb, which is too say, it's safe, quiet and nice.
And when I stepped out of the community center after going to the bathroom, I looked up and realized that it was a cloudy day. I already knew it was relatively cool for this time of year, so that plus the overcast sky gives the afternoon an autumn feel. This is a day that would be perfect in October and November, not mid-April.
But after what happened last night, this is good. Perfect even. There's no sun beating down on me disturbing the naps I tried to take in my car this and yesterday afternoon. I'm not sweating beyond all the walking I'm doing, which is at least good for my health. And while my nose has run, I'm not suffering the watery eyes and the stuffy nose that comes with springtime allergies, which usually start around this time. I can walk around and breathe and enjoy this peaceful day. This modest happiness is the perfect tonic to what is currently troubling my mind.
Just wanted to say something grateful.
And when I stepped out of the community center after going to the bathroom, I looked up and realized that it was a cloudy day. I already knew it was relatively cool for this time of year, so that plus the overcast sky gives the afternoon an autumn feel. This is a day that would be perfect in October and November, not mid-April.
But after what happened last night, this is good. Perfect even. There's no sun beating down on me disturbing the naps I tried to take in my car this and yesterday afternoon. I'm not sweating beyond all the walking I'm doing, which is at least good for my health. And while my nose has run, I'm not suffering the watery eyes and the stuffy nose that comes with springtime allergies, which usually start around this time. I can walk around and breathe and enjoy this peaceful day. This modest happiness is the perfect tonic to what is currently troubling my mind.
Just wanted to say something grateful.
Fuck You, Gopher Hockey, Men And Women
I'm pissed. Yeah, Union's a good team, and yeah, I guess this Gostisbehere asshole basically pulled a Shabazz Napier and told his teammates to climb on his back, and the Goofs defense turned in a fairy shitty performance (although the Dutchmen players can fly). I'm just absolutely pissed off that they had a chance to win their first NCAA championship in 11 years and they failed to do so.
I planned to watch, and celebrate, at the bar we watch our football games in. When I finally parked my car, it was 4-2 Union. What the fuck? And when they made it 5-3 I left. This isn't a huge upset, but this is a mighty, mighty disappointment.
This fact is very motherfucking scary: Both Golden Gopher hockey teams held the #1 seed and were upset by the #3 seeds, both of which are small schools from the Northeast United States that are not Division I in any other sport except hockey, and won their first NCAA championship in any sport ever. The failures mirror each other. But hey, we're Minnesotans -- we're generous that way.
Now that I wrote #1 seeds I'm getting more and more pissed off. Hockey's a weird sport, but with two top seeds you'd figure one of them would win the title. But neither did. Both teams got to the final game, but both failed. You guys suck, both of you teams. How disgusting.
I don't give a shit about second place. Second place is just being the last loser. That's why I appreciate the Twins at this moment. They don't fuck around about how bad they are. They let you know by, like, Memorial Day they won't win the World Series. By contrast we get these title teases, powerhouse teams that wilt when it counts the most. And with this fucking shitty game, we will have won zero NCAA championships in the last 11 years.
I don't know how I can even leave the house without at least hanging my head in shame. And if I feel that way, goddamn those fucking players better feel that way, too.
Second place in men's hockey, second place in women's hockey, and don't forget, second place in wrestling, too. (And that team had their chances to win and failed.) I'm a guy who thinks it's championships or bust, even when a team or program has no chance. These three Minnesota teams did have a chance, and they failed, they absolutely fucking failed. So why shouldn't I believe anything except that the U. athletic program is just a bunch of losers?
Oh yeah, and now I hate Union almost as much as I hate those Clarkson cunts. Fuck you, all of you.
---
One other thing: There were riots in Dinkytown ... well, "riots." I'm sure the kids would have set the area on fire if the Goofers actually won, even though I don't quite understand why you'd break shit when your team wins because I would when my team loses. (Guess I should've gone down there.) But as far as I can tell (and admittedly I didn't watch tonight's news), as far as riots go, tonight's was pretty lame. The police were out in force in reaction to their flat-footed response to the riot that happened after the Goofs beat North Dakota Thursday night, so they quashed any rabble-rousers hoping to stir shit up real quick, I guess. Nevertheless, it was lame, and not the youth in revolt I thought -- OK, I'll admit, I hoped -- it would be after the team that represents them failed to win the championship. So we can blame the sucky riot on the Golden Gopher men's hockey team, too.
I planned to watch, and celebrate, at the bar we watch our football games in. When I finally parked my car, it was 4-2 Union. What the fuck? And when they made it 5-3 I left. This isn't a huge upset, but this is a mighty, mighty disappointment.
This fact is very motherfucking scary: Both Golden Gopher hockey teams held the #1 seed and were upset by the #3 seeds, both of which are small schools from the Northeast United States that are not Division I in any other sport except hockey, and won their first NCAA championship in any sport ever. The failures mirror each other. But hey, we're Minnesotans -- we're generous that way.
Now that I wrote #1 seeds I'm getting more and more pissed off. Hockey's a weird sport, but with two top seeds you'd figure one of them would win the title. But neither did. Both teams got to the final game, but both failed. You guys suck, both of you teams. How disgusting.
I don't give a shit about second place. Second place is just being the last loser. That's why I appreciate the Twins at this moment. They don't fuck around about how bad they are. They let you know by, like, Memorial Day they won't win the World Series. By contrast we get these title teases, powerhouse teams that wilt when it counts the most. And with this fucking shitty game, we will have won zero NCAA championships in the last 11 years.
I don't know how I can even leave the house without at least hanging my head in shame. And if I feel that way, goddamn those fucking players better feel that way, too.
Second place in men's hockey, second place in women's hockey, and don't forget, second place in wrestling, too. (And that team had their chances to win and failed.) I'm a guy who thinks it's championships or bust, even when a team or program has no chance. These three Minnesota teams did have a chance, and they failed, they absolutely fucking failed. So why shouldn't I believe anything except that the U. athletic program is just a bunch of losers?
Oh yeah, and now I hate Union almost as much as I hate those Clarkson cunts. Fuck you, all of you.
---
One other thing: There were riots in Dinkytown ... well, "riots." I'm sure the kids would have set the area on fire if the Goofers actually won, even though I don't quite understand why you'd break shit when your team wins because I would when my team loses. (Guess I should've gone down there.) But as far as I can tell (and admittedly I didn't watch tonight's news), as far as riots go, tonight's was pretty lame. The police were out in force in reaction to their flat-footed response to the riot that happened after the Goofs beat North Dakota Thursday night, so they quashed any rabble-rousers hoping to stir shit up real quick, I guess. Nevertheless, it was lame, and not the youth in revolt I thought -- OK, I'll admit, I hoped -- it would be after the team that represents them failed to win the championship. So we can blame the sucky riot on the Golden Gopher men's hockey team, too.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Expenses Without Receipts
Starting from Friday, April 11:
- Work thankfully prevented me from spending any money. So I go back to Tuesday the 8th, when I decided to take an alumni club conference call at Diamonds. Wanted a Coke, but only prepared drinks get a punch on the Diamonds punch card, so I got a mocha along with a donut. With tip: $3.25.
- Monday, April 7: This was a surprise: For the first time I can remember, the test scoring place was offering lunch bags for $5. I considered this a good omen because I forgot the creamer at home. I tried using the ones the company provided, but I could barely stand the coffee and preferred not to drink more than that one cup. So I had another way of fueling my body that would give me energy: Eating food. I think it was tuna salad, and it was OK, but I saw peanuts in it. I didn't know tuna salad sandwiches had peanuts in it. The best part of the lunch was the macadamia nut cookie for dessert: $5.
- And to wash it all down I consumed a different vehicle of caffeine: Coke from the vending machine, an expensive: $1.65.
- Sunday April 6 -- After spending the day driving down all the way to the job I'll be starting Wednesday, a test scoring position I was at last year (partially to make sure I remembered the route, partially to see how my dilapidated car was going to drive there), I had time to fiddle around before seeing The Grand Budapest Hotel. They wouldn't even open up the doors until the prior movie, something called In The Blood, was done (I didn't know they made a movie based on the Better Than Ezra single -- and oh my God, they're still around!!!), and then they wouldn't open it up for a few minutes after that. So I had time to dink around the neighborhood, one I've driven up and down on constantly, but had only walked through once (and barely at that). Specifically, I walked up the hill to the house where my ATF, ***e* surprised me by getting her friend to assist her in stroking my dick. It's known in my head as The Best Day Evah! I knew her friend had left the house a long time ago, but I wanted to reminisce. Anyway, I also needed that walk to work off the chili cheese dog I had from the Dairy Queen right next to the movie theater. It was the first warm weekend day of the year, and many people standing in line before me must have gotten desserts, but since I was going to get popcorn and Coke soon after, I didn't want to ruin my appetite by eating what's supposed to be your last meal. So, the chili cheese dog, with tip, came to: $2.75.
- Say this for Wes Anderson films: They're so distinctive, I usually come away being happy I spent money to watch it. While being overly sentimental to the point of being precious, an Anderson film is so unique, especially with its costumes, scenic design and cat-like camerawork, that you're going to remember at least something about it. I like that, although I'm still not sure how much I like the movie, or even if I do like the movie. Ticket, popcorn and pop: $13.
- Saturday the 5th ... only EWR was at the MNRG bout. Have they run student discounts all this time? If so, that would have saved me two bucks each event. Also had a Coke. All day, the first warm one we've had this year, I think, I had this craving for Coke. And even though I thought I was going to get myself a beer, when I saw that they had Coke on the menu, I sprung for a can instead. So ticket, Coke and tip means: $17.50.
- After that I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition). Got there just in time to see a $5 chick step down from stage. Good timing; that made my night there shorter. Plus I didn't get a coffee, but the waitress didn't seem to mind. (ETA at 12:27 a.m. May 17 that this particular Expense Without Receipt means that the MNRG is not the only EWR for Saturday the 5th.) Stage tips for three strippers: $6.
- I then went to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place because I didn't want to go home quite yet. Then again I didn't know what I wanted to order because I wasn't feeling that hungry. Finally I took up my waiter's advice and got the potato ham soup (I thought he said tomato ham, although it probably wouldn't've made a difference) and onion rings, but no Coke, just water. With tip it came out to: $5.75.
- On Thursday, April 3 I got some money from my director to get candy for the group. I kept the money and used my credit card for the candy. Hope he doesn't mind me pocketing the cash; I needed it. An Infusion of: $20.
- Sunday, March 30 ... first EWR of a long day driving from Wendy's to the library to the car parts store to home to St. Paul was the Downtowner Car Wash. Assuming I paid for everything by cash, the car wash (which was rendered worthless with the following week's spring blizzard) and tip came out to: $24.51.
- I ate Cossetta before going to the game, so I only doled out cash for a scalped ticket. It was tough, but I finally caved at: $45.
- I don't know why the fuck I wrote down my post-game trip to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) twice in my Franklin Quest, nor do I know how the fuck I didn't notice that I wrote it down twice. I will assume the first note is correct because I wrote it sooner after I actually went. Tips, no coffee, and a dance from this hot chick named Kirah, from which I wanted a lapper for a long time and regretted not getting one when it seemed she left the bar: $26.
- Saturday the 29th: Only EWR of that day (and I feel safe saying that) is all the stuff at the NCAA Men's Hockey West Regional games that evening. Robert Morris was game before losing to the U. 7-3; we all gave the Colonials a standing ovation. Aw, what a nice little program whose asses we kicked, but they showed some spunk! My ovation was sincere, but if they found it a bit condescending and a lot useless, I would understand that, too. The second game of the doubleheader was a tight one, where St. Cloud St. finally defeated Notre Dame on a turnover-turned-wrist shot by Huskies Hobey Baker finalist Nic Dowd. It happened on my end of the ice, so I had the perfect viewpoint of the puck lifting over the shoulder of the goalie (last name Summerhays). The guy I was sitting next to, whose ticket I bought after he sold it to the scalper I go to, he stood up and raised his arms and cheered where his elbow glanced my eyeglasses. Boy, that was close. A little farther to the left and he would have hit my temple. But you're a good man, Zvi! Scalped ticket, program, hot dog and Coke is, a hope (since it's been a long time ago): $55.
- Back to Wednesday the 26th when I stopped by the library before coming home in order to print out these knitting instructions Mother found online. The printer at home couldn't print them out right because the instructions to the right of this picture on the upper-left corner of the page seemed to be in the way: 10 cents.
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