It's starting to get really aggravating at work. Yesterday (Friday) I was told to get back into work for the third time by an immediate supervisor. This time, because it was the third time, I was given a longer talking-to about what is expected of me at work and what the message that sends. Apparently, I have been taking too many breaks, and I should be working if it's not break time or lunch.
Well, Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, I can't believe that I was lectured to like I'm back in goddamn elementary school, where there are classes you have to be told to sit in your seat until you're told not to. And it feels ridiculous to be condescended to like that because apparently I'm doing my job well. She has told me herself that I am really good. If I am, who cares if I go to the bathroom and get coffee and odd hours of the day? It's not like I'm going to the break room to read the paper for ten minutes, OK? I have just gone to the bathroom and then to get coffee. Well, nearly all of the time. God's honest truth. Frankly, I feel like I'm being singled out as, somehow, the worst offender when it comes to getting up. And I refuse to believe that, especially when I see so many other people in the room getting up to go to the bathroom and get coffee. This hypocrisy is absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Oh, God. I am now bristling at these bullshit standards at my current job. I know at my old job they didn't give a flying fuck if I, say, have to take a shit for 20 minutes. No one bothers me. There aren't such high standards over there. In fact, they don't mind taking a girl who sat beside me and gave her an undeserved promotion even though we trained on the same material at the same goddamn time. There are no standards over there.
It's ironic, don't you think? It's times like this, where I've been treated like I'm some misbehaving child, and when I'm in, like, minute 45 of my 80-minute commute (no joke, it took me that long to get home yesterday) where I'm thinking, "Oh fuck, I so goddamn regret leaving that job for this one!" But then I remember feeling nothing but righteous contempt whenever that chick shook her fine ass on her way to the printer to get an essay to guide me into scoring it correctly, even though we were taught this shit at the same goddamn time!!! And then, begrudgingly, I realize that I still prefer to be at this job I'm at right now.
Also, I'll give her this: My immediate supervisor is at least saying all the right things. She has been encouraging me, telling me I'm doing a good job. She also did offer up alternatives to my needs when I leave -- I should just get up and about inside the room instead of leaving if I need to shake the doldrums out of my head. Finally, I do have to recognize her authority. She actually is a legitimate supervisor who was a supervisor from Day One, and not plucked out of, say, the seat across the aisle from me.
Still, I don't like it. Whatever I've been accused of is overblown, and I don't like that at all. So I'll just do what I usually do in cases where I feel I've been unfairly chastised but not outright insulted: I'll keep my head down, do as they say (to the best of my abilities -- goddamn, sometimes I just have to fucking pee) ... and not be personable to any authority figure at all. If I'm supposed to work, fine, you'll get nothing, nothing, but work from me. I won't even smile. Cordial but aloof, that's the name of the game. Can't afford to get in trouble anymore, right?
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Friday, April 29, 2016
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#0: Gopher softball (Last Week: -2). They had as many games cancelled this week as games played -- three apiece, counting tonight's (Friday night's) game because I'm doing this survey now because I fell asleep very early last night because I drank a beer at a Buffalo Wild Wings while watching the NFL Draft. They didn't lose any games, though, and that's one of the reason why this club gets a #0. The cancelled games were the series-ender against Nebraska (after shutting out the Cornhuskers 6-0 Friday and outlasting them 11-10 Saturday) and a proposed doubleheader Wednesday against North Dakota St. that was rained out because of the inclement weather we had basically all week until today.
No matter. They began their series against Maryland with another no-hitter by Sara Groenewegen, the sixth time she's done it. (That's impressive, but naturally, if you've done something deemed spectacular six times, maybe it's not so spectacular, you know?) That's six wins in a row for the team that is now 32-12 overall. They finish their last series at home tomorrow and Sunday; I should make it to the Senior Day game, which should take only, like, 90 minutes to finish because the U. is so good and the Terrapins are so bad.
#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). They swept Northwestern and began their series against Illinois today (Friday) with a 3-1 win. However, what has become a bounce-back year for the program had a surprise speed bump Tuesday when they lost to North Dakota St., 7-4. As inexplicable as that is, that game, as well as the series vs. the Wildcats and the game against the Illini, were all on the road. Is that loss to the Bison fatal for the NCAA tournament hopes? After they finish their series against Illinois this weekend they have a special two-game home series against Kansas. I will be at the first game on Tuesday, where former football Head Coach Jerry Kill is expected to throw out the first pitch.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -3). Got swept at The Bastard Montreal Expos, but then took two-of-three against Cleveland at Target Field. The weird thing is, I don't think the pitching has been the problem, yet most of the moves this week has involved hurlers. Ervin Santana and Kyle Gibson went on the Disabled List and Tommy Milone has been banished to the bullpen. In their steads, Alex Meyer goes into the rotation, Fernando Abad gets called up to the bullpen from AAA Rochester ... and heralded Pitcher Jose Berrios was called up to throw in Wedneday's rain-delayed 6-5 loss to Cleveland.
As demoralizing that Berrios did not throw a perfect game in his first call-up to the majors, what's even more worrisome is that Byron Buxton was sent back down to Rochester because he is still hitting below the Mendoza Line. This is the second time he's been demoted since being called up for the first time last year, and seeing what was once the top prospect in Major League Baseball struggling again, you have to wonder about his future, at least his future with this organization.
They've started a three-game series at home against Detroit (where they're already down after one inning at press time), then three at Houston starting Monday.
#-3: Vikings (Re-Entry!). I would consider the Vikes losers in Day 1 of the NFL Draft last (Thursday) night. Most of the mocks thought that they would get Josh Doctson, Wide Receiver out of TCU. And he was falling towards them at the 23rd pick. But then, Washington traded with Houston to get the 22nd pick and stole Doctson. Minnesota instead took another WR, Ole Miss' Laquon Treadwell.
And immediately, because I'm a Vikings fan, the red flags went up. After ESPN flashed the pick, they ran a package showing one of the big downsides to Treadwell's game: His penchant for dropped passes, which will give Purple fans panic attacks after mentally drudging up the memory of Troy Williamson. And then, this morning on Twitter I came across this piece on Pro Football Focus on Treadwell published in February. He has the ability to win handfights and separate at the line of scrimmage and he can win jumpballs, which might give Purple fans euphoric dreams after mentally drudging up the memory of Randy Moss. Unfortunately, he does not have the breakaway speed to separate from defenders after the line of scrimmage, and he has a tendency to wait for passes to come to him instead of jumping up to get them. I am thus very, very scared that this is not going to be the receiver Minnesota has needed for years.
Oh, and in the second round tonight (Friday night) the Vikes took Clemson Cornerback Mackensie Alexander.
#-Infinity: Wild (Last Week: -4). Man, I don't want to talk about this shit. They saved their asses -- well, Mikko Koivu did -- to win Game 5, but back at home Sunday, in front of a souped-up crowed, egged on by the memory of Prince and bedecking the X in purple, they actually go down 4-0. Sure, they made a, ahem, wild comeback, but they still got eliminated in six games. To The Team That Was Stolen From Us. How humiliating.
Where to go now? I think we saw the ceiling on this team two years ago, when they lost in the second round to Chicago in six. This is a team whose veterans are aging basketcases, and the youngsters have not developed the way they should. General Manager Chuck Fletcher has churned through three coaches now, and there might be a fourth ... assuming Fletch is still in charge. And because he put faith in underachievers by signing them to long-term contracts, the squad has bumped up against the salary cap with nowhere to go. Well, besides down.
The collapse of the Mild begins now, if it hasn't begun already.
No matter. They began their series against Maryland with another no-hitter by Sara Groenewegen, the sixth time she's done it. (That's impressive, but naturally, if you've done something deemed spectacular six times, maybe it's not so spectacular, you know?) That's six wins in a row for the team that is now 32-12 overall. They finish their last series at home tomorrow and Sunday; I should make it to the Senior Day game, which should take only, like, 90 minutes to finish because the U. is so good and the Terrapins are so bad.
#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). They swept Northwestern and began their series against Illinois today (Friday) with a 3-1 win. However, what has become a bounce-back year for the program had a surprise speed bump Tuesday when they lost to North Dakota St., 7-4. As inexplicable as that is, that game, as well as the series vs. the Wildcats and the game against the Illini, were all on the road. Is that loss to the Bison fatal for the NCAA tournament hopes? After they finish their series against Illinois this weekend they have a special two-game home series against Kansas. I will be at the first game on Tuesday, where former football Head Coach Jerry Kill is expected to throw out the first pitch.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -3). Got swept at The Bastard Montreal Expos, but then took two-of-three against Cleveland at Target Field. The weird thing is, I don't think the pitching has been the problem, yet most of the moves this week has involved hurlers. Ervin Santana and Kyle Gibson went on the Disabled List and Tommy Milone has been banished to the bullpen. In their steads, Alex Meyer goes into the rotation, Fernando Abad gets called up to the bullpen from AAA Rochester ... and heralded Pitcher Jose Berrios was called up to throw in Wedneday's rain-delayed 6-5 loss to Cleveland.
As demoralizing that Berrios did not throw a perfect game in his first call-up to the majors, what's even more worrisome is that Byron Buxton was sent back down to Rochester because he is still hitting below the Mendoza Line. This is the second time he's been demoted since being called up for the first time last year, and seeing what was once the top prospect in Major League Baseball struggling again, you have to wonder about his future, at least his future with this organization.
They've started a three-game series at home against Detroit (where they're already down after one inning at press time), then three at Houston starting Monday.
#-3: Vikings (Re-Entry!). I would consider the Vikes losers in Day 1 of the NFL Draft last (Thursday) night. Most of the mocks thought that they would get Josh Doctson, Wide Receiver out of TCU. And he was falling towards them at the 23rd pick. But then, Washington traded with Houston to get the 22nd pick and stole Doctson. Minnesota instead took another WR, Ole Miss' Laquon Treadwell.
And immediately, because I'm a Vikings fan, the red flags went up. After ESPN flashed the pick, they ran a package showing one of the big downsides to Treadwell's game: His penchant for dropped passes, which will give Purple fans panic attacks after mentally drudging up the memory of Troy Williamson. And then, this morning on Twitter I came across this piece on Pro Football Focus on Treadwell published in February. He has the ability to win handfights and separate at the line of scrimmage and he can win jumpballs, which might give Purple fans euphoric dreams after mentally drudging up the memory of Randy Moss. Unfortunately, he does not have the breakaway speed to separate from defenders after the line of scrimmage, and he has a tendency to wait for passes to come to him instead of jumping up to get them. I am thus very, very scared that this is not going to be the receiver Minnesota has needed for years.
Oh, and in the second round tonight (Friday night) the Vikes took Clemson Cornerback Mackensie Alexander.
#-Infinity: Wild (Last Week: -4). Man, I don't want to talk about this shit. They saved their asses -- well, Mikko Koivu did -- to win Game 5, but back at home Sunday, in front of a souped-up crowed, egged on by the memory of Prince and bedecking the X in purple, they actually go down 4-0. Sure, they made a, ahem, wild comeback, but they still got eliminated in six games. To The Team That Was Stolen From Us. How humiliating.
Where to go now? I think we saw the ceiling on this team two years ago, when they lost in the second round to Chicago in six. This is a team whose veterans are aging basketcases, and the youngsters have not developed the way they should. General Manager Chuck Fletcher has churned through three coaches now, and there might be a fourth ... assuming Fletch is still in charge. And because he put faith in underachievers by signing them to long-term contracts, the squad has bumped up against the salary cap with nowhere to go. Well, besides down.
The collapse of the Mild begins now, if it hasn't begun already.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
The Misadventures Of The Laundry Room Drain, Revisited
I've been walking on a thin line with the water backing up from the washing machine, and unfortunately last (Wednesday) night everything went ass over teakettle.
It's been manageable lately. Last Wednesday, for example (recently I have gotten to a rhythm where I do laundry every Wednesday since I make a point to be home at night then), the water that shot out of the washer filled up half of the sink basin and almost overflowed through the grate in the laundry room floor, but it didn't pour over the former and didn't seep up all the way in the latter. There is a ton of lint in the tub strainer, which explains why there's so much water in the tub after every wash. However, when I scrape the lint off the strainer, so much water rushes through it and down the pipe that it hits some obstruction in the main drain pipe down beneath the floor that it backs up all the way up through it. I had learned lately how much lint to remove off of the strainer and when there's so much water that's about to rise through the grate that I shouldn't touch the standing water at all. It's a tricky balancing act, but I think I had it mastered.
Until last night, that is. It started off fine. Just like last week, water filled up one half of the sink (and there was barely any room left) and I could see water at a high level just underneath the grate of the laundry room drain. But the wash cycle was about to end and no more water had to evacuate through the washing machine drainage pipe.
I went back upstairs and waited for the water in the overflow area underneath the grate to subside, and it just about did. That's when I thought it was time to get the water out of the tub. So I reached into the water and down onto the strainer to yank off the lint. I tore off a piece and I could hear the sound of water rushing down the pipe. And then I thought, Well, what's another piece? So I tore off either a bigger or more important piece of lint, and the sound got louder because the water was rushing out faster.
Too fast. I had a bad feeling about this, so I went back to look at the grate, and sure enough, by the reflection of the laundry room light bouncing and refracting off its surface, the water level down in there was rising ... and it was rising fast, and it wasn't stopping. Oh, shit -- the water seeped, then gushed through the grate, marauding around the floor, covering every square inch and corner of it like the Plague. And there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do about it at this point, so I left to clean it up in the morning. Hey, at least the water was leaving the sink.
The washer had its issues in the past with unbalance loads and oversudsing, but I haven't seen that in a while, so I don't think it has an issue now. Now, obviously, there's something backed up in the main drain pipe that leads out of the house. I tried using the snake that Father has, but I don't know how, and the one time I tried it I just splashed dirty water all over that room. Moreover, I don't know if just unclogging the drain from this end is going to solve the problem. I think the water back-up is getting worse and worse over time; I had just been deft in controlling the amount of water that rushes down through there.
I think it's time to seriously entertain the thought that we need to bring someone, like a plumber or even a sump pump drainer, in to clean that out. But Mother probably thinks it's unnecessary and too expensive. So I am just going to have to fucking deal with this shit every time I wash my clothes. Or at least I will until My Fucking Father decides to come home to save the day, and I'll never be ready for that fucking day, but at least water will stop seeping through the bottom of the floor. Because it's a goddamn problem now, and it's pissing me off.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
My God, I Didn't Know She'd Whore Herself Like That!
Popped into My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) last (Tuesday) night because I was going around town after dropping off my scathing evaluations to the old test scoring place and I wanted to grab this week's City Pages, which was its annual best-of. When I popped in, ****a was there. Didn't have the dollars to give her money, so I told her I was leaving before she went onstage. She gave me a kiss and was cool with it, like she always has been.
For her calm demeanor all these years (I want to say I've seen her there for about a decade) alone I should recognize her as one of the best strippers I've ever met. And that's despite dancing quite clean. But that was until the night before my birthday. Turns out ****a can get down and dirty her damn self ... and that meant I got the best early birthday present ever!!!
She is a regular at *******a's parties, but these are ones where I normally eschew the 3-for-$100 dances behind this curtain in the lapdance room. ********a insists that her dances and dancers remain clean. That hasn't stopped me, however, from whipping out my dick, and despite the occasional tsk-tsk from ********a and the nonplussed (if not upset) looks from some of the strippers at the house party, I will continue to do it, partly because it turns me on, partly because it's a quick way to tell which dancers are not willing to get done and which ones are.
I swear, swear, that she was the former. She has seen my dick. In fact, she was the one who accidentally bit it when we had that LD at *******a's place a while back, to which she was kind of upset, if not violent. This time, to make it up to her, I caved in and finally agreed to go to the back. The plan was to unbutton my fly totally, and if it slips out, well, she then has a choice: She could totally flip out, which means I know once and for all where she stands, or ... she doesn't.
I was not happy that *******a was down in the basement too, giving an LD to a guy. In fact the curtained room was already occupied by someone, so ****a and I had to wait and talked to *******a until it was free. Even then I didn't think anything would happen; the curtain is only partially opaque, and I was not very happy that a guy might be able to see my junk, let alone anything that ****a could be doing with it.
Oh, well. I had that one chance. And after opening up my fly just a little more, ****a, in reverse cowgirl, slid up my pants and jostle my pee-pee free. This was the moment of truth, and I was bursting with such anticipation that I could feel my cock swell with blood.
And ****a? Without missing a beat, she grabbed it. Then she turned around, got on her knees, and started giving me a handjob. Then she put my hard dick in her cleavage and tittyfucked me. Finally, after looking over her shoulder and seeing that *******'s guy was focusing all his attention on her, she sucked my dick. Not fervently, and not for a long time, but I could tell her moist mouth wrapped around my tumescence.
I should delve into this further, but suffice it to say I came so hard and so fast and so freely that I felt like I recaptured my youth. It was a combination of things that made me burst -- that's the part I want to expand more on in a further blog post, but I am really tired and should go to bed now -- but one of the main reasons I responded so ... uh, passionately was because a woman who I thought was a "good girl" turned out to be anything but. And all the times she hit me with me hard and out wasn't because she didn't want me to expose myself, but because she wanted me to pay her $100 to do it -- to which she would do unspeakably awesome things to it!
*******a is holding another party tomorrow (Thursday), and sadly, ****a won't be there because she thinks she needs to be at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) instead. In her place are the host and three other girls who I'm fairly sure don't get down and whore themselves like ****a did. But then again, I didn't think ****a would get down and whore herself, and she did. So I'm going Thursday. Wish me luck!
For her calm demeanor all these years (I want to say I've seen her there for about a decade) alone I should recognize her as one of the best strippers I've ever met. And that's despite dancing quite clean. But that was until the night before my birthday. Turns out ****a can get down and dirty her damn self ... and that meant I got the best early birthday present ever!!!
She is a regular at *******a's parties, but these are ones where I normally eschew the 3-for-$100 dances behind this curtain in the lapdance room. ********a insists that her dances and dancers remain clean. That hasn't stopped me, however, from whipping out my dick, and despite the occasional tsk-tsk from ********a and the nonplussed (if not upset) looks from some of the strippers at the house party, I will continue to do it, partly because it turns me on, partly because it's a quick way to tell which dancers are not willing to get done and which ones are.
I swear, swear, that she was the former. She has seen my dick. In fact, she was the one who accidentally bit it when we had that LD at *******a's place a while back, to which she was kind of upset, if not violent. This time, to make it up to her, I caved in and finally agreed to go to the back. The plan was to unbutton my fly totally, and if it slips out, well, she then has a choice: She could totally flip out, which means I know once and for all where she stands, or ... she doesn't.
I was not happy that *******a was down in the basement too, giving an LD to a guy. In fact the curtained room was already occupied by someone, so ****a and I had to wait and talked to *******a until it was free. Even then I didn't think anything would happen; the curtain is only partially opaque, and I was not very happy that a guy might be able to see my junk, let alone anything that ****a could be doing with it.
Oh, well. I had that one chance. And after opening up my fly just a little more, ****a, in reverse cowgirl, slid up my pants and jostle my pee-pee free. This was the moment of truth, and I was bursting with such anticipation that I could feel my cock swell with blood.
And ****a? Without missing a beat, she grabbed it. Then she turned around, got on her knees, and started giving me a handjob. Then she put my hard dick in her cleavage and tittyfucked me. Finally, after looking over her shoulder and seeing that *******'s guy was focusing all his attention on her, she sucked my dick. Not fervently, and not for a long time, but I could tell her moist mouth wrapped around my tumescence.
I should delve into this further, but suffice it to say I came so hard and so fast and so freely that I felt like I recaptured my youth. It was a combination of things that made me burst -- that's the part I want to expand more on in a further blog post, but I am really tired and should go to bed now -- but one of the main reasons I responded so ... uh, passionately was because a woman who I thought was a "good girl" turned out to be anything but. And all the times she hit me with me hard and out wasn't because she didn't want me to expose myself, but because she wanted me to pay her $100 to do it -- to which she would do unspeakably awesome things to it!
*******a is holding another party tomorrow (Thursday), and sadly, ****a won't be there because she thinks she needs to be at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) instead. In her place are the host and three other girls who I'm fairly sure don't get down and whore themselves like ****a did. But then again, I didn't think ****a would get down and whore herself, and she did. So I'm going Thursday. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Addendum To: Missing Watch
Yeah, I found my watch. I was wearing a hoodie the day I lost it. Turns out that when I got it off of the passenger seat I stuck it in the hooded sweatshirt pocket, and when I got to my room, I threw the hoodie down on the floor and forget about it all. But on Sunday, when I was going out to my nightly sojourn to Caffetto, I picked up that hooded sweatshirt. Stuck my hands in the pocket, and there it was.
I am whole again. I hear that the use of traditional watches are way down amongst millennials, but for me, I need to use it whenever I want to know the time. And now I can, thank Buddha!
I am whole again. I hear that the use of traditional watches are way down amongst millennials, but for me, I need to use it whenever I want to know the time. And now I can, thank Buddha!
OK, I'm Dropping It Off
It looks as though I won't be receiving any new assignments at the old testing place for the rest of the year. And even if I did get one for the night shift, I've tried to drive from the new testing place to over there and it's impossible to do without being late, so it wouldn't have worked, anyway.
Assuming that new night projects began this week -- and that the project I walked away from is still going on, but has not extended their hours way into the night -- I'll be able to get buzzed in and drop off my evaluation without anybody from the room knowing I did it. That's important to me, not to be seen, and I have made other precautions about not totally giving away my identity on this burn book-type eval I've given the project. But then again, I kind of want them know it is me. Hell, the receptionist is going to recognize me anyway as I slip in the evals. Plus I'll be calling the company in August to rehash what I wrote on there.
And boy, did I write a lot. I was taking my time, writing a paragraph here and there. But since this is the last scheduled week of the project, if I handed it in any later it would have absolutely no impact, so my hand is now cramped after writing almost three pages the last two days. Should've realized how much I wanted to write. Now, I was afraid that if I turned it in early people would try to figure out who wrote it. That's why I'm being a little more careful of hiding my identity. I'm trying to find that balance; maybe four days helps me get away with saying what I want to say, yet still having those words give some bite before the project's over.
After giving it a lot of thought, I still am upset that these three people who started off scoring just like us were given battlefield promotions (with pay raises to boot, presumably), handed the power to tell we should score these papers, and allowed to walk anywhere like people with privilege, even though we had no idea that that was going to happen. These impromptu deputizations were undeserved and were thus a decision made in haste and without regard to the feelings of the other test scorers there, including me.
And I'm not going to sugarcoat it; I don't think I'm insulting people, but I'm making my thoughts known without varnish because it's how I feel. I have felt powerless for so long after this stupid decision was made, and I think that dropping this off tonight is a way to reclaim that. I have been advised not to do it, and there is certainly a possibility that this will backfire on me. But I will take that chance after I feel I was treated unfairly by a company I wanted, and want, to work with.
Wish me luck.
Assuming that new night projects began this week -- and that the project I walked away from is still going on, but has not extended their hours way into the night -- I'll be able to get buzzed in and drop off my evaluation without anybody from the room knowing I did it. That's important to me, not to be seen, and I have made other precautions about not totally giving away my identity on this burn book-type eval I've given the project. But then again, I kind of want them know it is me. Hell, the receptionist is going to recognize me anyway as I slip in the evals. Plus I'll be calling the company in August to rehash what I wrote on there.
And boy, did I write a lot. I was taking my time, writing a paragraph here and there. But since this is the last scheduled week of the project, if I handed it in any later it would have absolutely no impact, so my hand is now cramped after writing almost three pages the last two days. Should've realized how much I wanted to write. Now, I was afraid that if I turned it in early people would try to figure out who wrote it. That's why I'm being a little more careful of hiding my identity. I'm trying to find that balance; maybe four days helps me get away with saying what I want to say, yet still having those words give some bite before the project's over.
After giving it a lot of thought, I still am upset that these three people who started off scoring just like us were given battlefield promotions (with pay raises to boot, presumably), handed the power to tell we should score these papers, and allowed to walk anywhere like people with privilege, even though we had no idea that that was going to happen. These impromptu deputizations were undeserved and were thus a decision made in haste and without regard to the feelings of the other test scorers there, including me.
And I'm not going to sugarcoat it; I don't think I'm insulting people, but I'm making my thoughts known without varnish because it's how I feel. I have felt powerless for so long after this stupid decision was made, and I think that dropping this off tonight is a way to reclaim that. I have been advised not to do it, and there is certainly a possibility that this will backfire on me. But I will take that chance after I feel I was treated unfairly by a company I wanted, and want, to work with.
Wish me luck.
Monday, April 25, 2016
The Team That Was Stolen From Us Fucking Won
Oh, I am so pissed right now. Ever since I saw on the news that the Bastard North Stars won (I avoided finding even the score of the game after The Team That Was Stolen From Us led 3-0 after one period; I knew it was over) I have been angry. Well, angrier than usual. You know, I've been angry all my life, and that might be the reason why I am where I am.
But anyway! To be humiliated at home by The Bastard North Stars really pisses me off. And that is why I wanted to avoid this matchup at all costs. I am so angry that I want to punch a Bastard North Stars fan. And yet I know I will fucking wind up in jail if I do that -- or worse. Then again, I don't want those fucking hockey thieves to get away with it. Even though they did. Great, now they'll say that they deserve our team. Fuck. Next thing you know, they'll say Prince is theirs, too.
My friend said I could have a ticket to Game 4. Glad I didn't go, because I think I was liable to go up to the first Bastard North Stars fan and murder him. Also, they lost that game.
The only thing I am really sad about (besides the Mild losing) is that I have yet to hear of any Bastard North Stars fan getting beat up or killed in St. Paul. Minnesota, your favorite son just died and now you got eliminated by The Team That Was Stolen From Us ... in Minnesota!!! Why aren't you people getting violent?! Where's your fucking pride, man?!?!
But anyway! To be humiliated at home by The Bastard North Stars really pisses me off. And that is why I wanted to avoid this matchup at all costs. I am so angry that I want to punch a Bastard North Stars fan. And yet I know I will fucking wind up in jail if I do that -- or worse. Then again, I don't want those fucking hockey thieves to get away with it. Even though they did. Great, now they'll say that they deserve our team. Fuck. Next thing you know, they'll say Prince is theirs, too.
My friend said I could have a ticket to Game 4. Glad I didn't go, because I think I was liable to go up to the first Bastard North Stars fan and murder him. Also, they lost that game.
The only thing I am really sad about (besides the Mild losing) is that I have yet to hear of any Bastard North Stars fan getting beat up or killed in St. Paul. Minnesota, your favorite son just died and now you got eliminated by The Team That Was Stolen From Us ... in Minnesota!!! Why aren't you people getting violent?! Where's your fucking pride, man?!?!
Sunday, April 24, 2016
My Thoughts On Prince
It's been three days and I still can't believe Prince is dead. It was morning break on Thursday when I got to my car and looked at my turned-on phone, where I had a text from my friend waiting for me saying that TMZ (of course) said that he is dead. Went on the website of a less-dirty source, the Star Tribune, which confirmed the news.
Fifty-seven, man, what the fuck? But you know, you don't really appreciate a musician, or anyone, if he or she lives a long life. Merle Haggard, for example, is the oldest of the musicians who have died so far this year (plus three days), but he lived a long life (and lived every single minute of that long life). It is quite sad that he passed, but he died at 79, a time when many good men and women finally pass over. (It sucks that he died on his 79th birthday, though.). Meanwhile, even though his hit-making days were behind him, it didn't look as though Prince was slowing down. He played back-to-back shows in Atlanta last week. He was at The Electric Fetus on Record Store Day (I was there, too; did I miss him?), and he was seen at the Dakota Tuesday night. He had many years of being an eccentric genius ahead of him. So when he was found dead in his Paisley Park elevator Thursday morning, he was robbed of life. And the world was robbed of him.
---
Prince. Haggard. David Bowie. Phife Dawg. Glenn Frey. I'll add Natalie Cole, who died New Year's Eve, and Lemmy Kilmister, who died December 28, and say that 2016 has been an absolutely fucked-up year for musicians to die, especially ones that died before their time.
---
A guy by the name of Jake Nyberg had a very insightful tweet Thursday afternoon:
I don't think we ever took Prince for granted. But it's possible that our provincialism, the One Of Us obsession Minnesota has with people from here, has blinded us to how other people see him. We loved him; he may be revered around the country and the planet. I punched in "monuments building in purple prince" in Google Images, and even though it didn't filter out everything, the results pull up so many places on Earth bathed in purple Thursday in tribute to Prince that I was, frankly, shocked. (And not just edifices. There were many TV shows that lit their sets in or changed their graphics to purple -- Late Show With Stephen Colbert, Inside The NBA and, I swear, Washington Week. Rolling Stone's logo on their webpage is in purple, at least as I write this. And Google created this quick Doodle. Good on you, Google.) He was that popular?? And I know other Minnesotans were astonished by the worldwide outpouring of grief, even though they might not admit it.
And that brings me to my own theory: Prince was the greatest representative Minnesota had. This state and its native peoples have (or at least I believe we have) this image of being nice, smart, hard-working, modest, progressive ... and a bit weird. We are proud of a lot of things that are from and of here -- hockey, the Minnesota State Fair, A Prairie Home Companion, the Jucy Lucy, and Duck, Duck, Grey Duck. But I think people associate those things with Minnesota and go, "Yeah, that's nice ... I respect what you like, that's cool, but ... it ain't really my thing." In fact, I believe we Minnesotans love things that are acquired tastes to many others. We're passive-aggressive like that.
But there's no equivocation when it comes to Prince. Everybody knows who he is, and everybody recognizes him as a badass. Because he is. People have been mourning him by playing his music, but I swear, when we do, we're all dancing and smiling instead of mourning because, above all else, Prince wrote so many goddamn good songs. My Top 5 changes by the day: When Doves Cry (lately I've been digging on his line, "Animals strike curious poses" -- I mean, has Justin Bieber written a line like that? It's fucking poetry!), Let's Go Crazy, Purple Rain, I Would Die For U, Take Me With U. And that's all from Purple Rain!!! How about his songs before and after that: Raspberry Beret, I Wanna Be Your Lover, 7, Pop Life, Sexy Motherfucker, Cream, Thieves In The Temple.
And how about Pussy Control?! Oh my God, I've been trying to think of all the Prince songs I love, and some guy in Facebook commented yesterday about Pussy Control -- AND I TOTALLY FORGOT PUSSY CONTROL!!! It was never released as a single, but when you can write hit after hit, you get so much latitude to be an absolute fucking pervert. God Bless him!
See what I mean? The most popular musicians will forever be remembered for his or her songs, the feelings those songs make you feel, and the moments and childhood memories those songs trigger. That is a human emotion, and that is why the whole globe was shaken when Prince died. That is why this Minnesotan, this Minnesotan product, is so universally commemorated now.
I saw Kim Johnson, an anchor on Channel 4, say that "Prince was Minnesota, and a piece of Minnesota died today." That felt dramatic and even glib when I heard it Thursday night. But you know what? She's right. She knows because she is also One Of Us.
---
I'll go one step further. This is #hotttakes territory, so buckle your seatbelt. It matters greatly that Prince lived here, at least part of the time. He was, by all accounts, a good neighbor and a solid, if quiet, citizen. You could see him around town. He loved local sports teams (I didn't know he was such a sports fan; that's why I feel so bad that I initially thought him doing the Super Bowl Halftime Show was a mistake. It wasn't.) It matters, however grimly, that he died in his Chanhassen home. And even though I have no idea where his cremated remains will lie, he has done so much holding on for his city that it doesn't matter.
Bob Dylan may be more important to music than Prince, and he is One Of Us -- technically. But after spending a quarter at the University of Minnesota he hightailed it to New York and never looked back. His physical intellectual property (manuscripts, recordings, notes, letters, photos) is being sold to, of all places, the University of Tulsa. Why? The university or the city holds the archives of Woody Guthrie, Dylan's idol, and the university also houses an extensive collection of Native American art, which is one of Dylan's interests.
I have no idea if the University of Minnesota, or any state entity, even had a chance at the archives of the man born in the Iron Range. If anyone did, I'm not sure if Dylan even wanted to give those efforts from the state a shot. In other words, since he became a young man, he hasn't really been a Minnesotan. That's cool -- the state stayed upright after he left, and leaving Minnesota didn't hurt Dylan none. But even if he Dylan dies and his body comes home to Minnesota, and if Prince's ashes will be taken to a place far away from Minnesota, the actions of the two best musicians from this state are clear.
Therefore, I can conclude this as fact: Minnesota's favorite son is not Bob Dylan -- it is Prince. And that should be known throughout the world, and more importantly, that fact should be realized amongst us. Prince Rogers Nelson is Minnesota, and that is why his death hits us so hard.
OK, so a writer and Hastings native named Matt Hendrickson surmised as such. He agrees with me.
---
One final thing: TMZ is a dirty journalism rag, but dirty journalism rags are usually right when it comes to sordid facts. They have been saying that Prince has been using drugs, specifically opioids like heroin. If that is true it's ironic in one sense: Last week, Minnesota Public Radio (the local arm of National Public Radio) had a week-long series about the opioid epidemic ravaging our state.
If Prince overdosed, that series ended with these drugs taking the life of the state's most favorite son. And so, the narrative can go one of two ways. Either people will see this as another rocker dying because of drugs, or yet another person who was ensnared and finally claimed by painkillers. People will do nothing if it's seen as the former; Prince's end will only be an extension of the rock god myth. But if it's seen as the latter, maybe this country will start doing something about an addiction that is crippling this country. And maybe that could be Prince's final legacy.
Fifty-seven, man, what the fuck? But you know, you don't really appreciate a musician, or anyone, if he or she lives a long life. Merle Haggard, for example, is the oldest of the musicians who have died so far this year (plus three days), but he lived a long life (and lived every single minute of that long life). It is quite sad that he passed, but he died at 79, a time when many good men and women finally pass over. (It sucks that he died on his 79th birthday, though.). Meanwhile, even though his hit-making days were behind him, it didn't look as though Prince was slowing down. He played back-to-back shows in Atlanta last week. He was at The Electric Fetus on Record Store Day (I was there, too; did I miss him?), and he was seen at the Dakota Tuesday night. He had many years of being an eccentric genius ahead of him. So when he was found dead in his Paisley Park elevator Thursday morning, he was robbed of life. And the world was robbed of him.
---
Prince. Haggard. David Bowie. Phife Dawg. Glenn Frey. I'll add Natalie Cole, who died New Year's Eve, and Lemmy Kilmister, who died December 28, and say that 2016 has been an absolutely fucked-up year for musicians to die, especially ones that died before their time.
---
A guy by the name of Jake Nyberg had a very insightful tweet Thursday afternoon:
A theory: While Prince is revered and loved in Minnesota, it's possible Minnesotans don't realize how HUGE he is globally.— jake nyberg (@jakenyberg) April 21, 2016
I don't think we ever took Prince for granted. But it's possible that our provincialism, the One Of Us obsession Minnesota has with people from here, has blinded us to how other people see him. We loved him; he may be revered around the country and the planet. I punched in "monuments building in purple prince" in Google Images, and even though it didn't filter out everything, the results pull up so many places on Earth bathed in purple Thursday in tribute to Prince that I was, frankly, shocked. (And not just edifices. There were many TV shows that lit their sets in or changed their graphics to purple -- Late Show With Stephen Colbert, Inside The NBA and, I swear, Washington Week. Rolling Stone's logo on their webpage is in purple, at least as I write this. And Google created this quick Doodle. Good on you, Google.) He was that popular?? And I know other Minnesotans were astonished by the worldwide outpouring of grief, even though they might not admit it.
And that brings me to my own theory: Prince was the greatest representative Minnesota had. This state and its native peoples have (or at least I believe we have) this image of being nice, smart, hard-working, modest, progressive ... and a bit weird. We are proud of a lot of things that are from and of here -- hockey, the Minnesota State Fair, A Prairie Home Companion, the Jucy Lucy, and Duck, Duck, Grey Duck. But I think people associate those things with Minnesota and go, "Yeah, that's nice ... I respect what you like, that's cool, but ... it ain't really my thing." In fact, I believe we Minnesotans love things that are acquired tastes to many others. We're passive-aggressive like that.
But there's no equivocation when it comes to Prince. Everybody knows who he is, and everybody recognizes him as a badass. Because he is. People have been mourning him by playing his music, but I swear, when we do, we're all dancing and smiling instead of mourning because, above all else, Prince wrote so many goddamn good songs. My Top 5 changes by the day: When Doves Cry (lately I've been digging on his line, "Animals strike curious poses" -- I mean, has Justin Bieber written a line like that? It's fucking poetry!), Let's Go Crazy, Purple Rain, I Would Die For U, Take Me With U. And that's all from Purple Rain!!! How about his songs before and after that: Raspberry Beret, I Wanna Be Your Lover, 7, Pop Life, Sexy Motherfucker, Cream, Thieves In The Temple.
And how about Pussy Control?! Oh my God, I've been trying to think of all the Prince songs I love, and some guy in Facebook commented yesterday about Pussy Control -- AND I TOTALLY FORGOT PUSSY CONTROL!!! It was never released as a single, but when you can write hit after hit, you get so much latitude to be an absolute fucking pervert. God Bless him!
See what I mean? The most popular musicians will forever be remembered for his or her songs, the feelings those songs make you feel, and the moments and childhood memories those songs trigger. That is a human emotion, and that is why the whole globe was shaken when Prince died. That is why this Minnesotan, this Minnesotan product, is so universally commemorated now.
I saw Kim Johnson, an anchor on Channel 4, say that "Prince was Minnesota, and a piece of Minnesota died today." That felt dramatic and even glib when I heard it Thursday night. But you know what? She's right. She knows because she is also One Of Us.
---
I'll go one step further. This is #hotttakes territory, so buckle your seatbelt. It matters greatly that Prince lived here, at least part of the time. He was, by all accounts, a good neighbor and a solid, if quiet, citizen. You could see him around town. He loved local sports teams (I didn't know he was such a sports fan; that's why I feel so bad that I initially thought him doing the Super Bowl Halftime Show was a mistake. It wasn't.) It matters, however grimly, that he died in his Chanhassen home. And even though I have no idea where his cremated remains will lie, he has done so much holding on for his city that it doesn't matter.
Bob Dylan may be more important to music than Prince, and he is One Of Us -- technically. But after spending a quarter at the University of Minnesota he hightailed it to New York and never looked back. His physical intellectual property (manuscripts, recordings, notes, letters, photos) is being sold to, of all places, the University of Tulsa. Why? The university or the city holds the archives of Woody Guthrie, Dylan's idol, and the university also houses an extensive collection of Native American art, which is one of Dylan's interests.
I have no idea if the University of Minnesota, or any state entity, even had a chance at the archives of the man born in the Iron Range. If anyone did, I'm not sure if Dylan even wanted to give those efforts from the state a shot. In other words, since he became a young man, he hasn't really been a Minnesotan. That's cool -- the state stayed upright after he left, and leaving Minnesota didn't hurt Dylan none. But even if he Dylan dies and his body comes home to Minnesota, and if Prince's ashes will be taken to a place far away from Minnesota, the actions of the two best musicians from this state are clear.
Therefore, I can conclude this as fact: Minnesota's favorite son is not Bob Dylan -- it is Prince. And that should be known throughout the world, and more importantly, that fact should be realized amongst us. Prince Rogers Nelson is Minnesota, and that is why his death hits us so hard.
OK, so a writer and Hastings native named Matt Hendrickson surmised as such. He agrees with me.
---
One final thing: TMZ is a dirty journalism rag, but dirty journalism rags are usually right when it comes to sordid facts. They have been saying that Prince has been using drugs, specifically opioids like heroin. If that is true it's ironic in one sense: Last week, Minnesota Public Radio (the local arm of National Public Radio) had a week-long series about the opioid epidemic ravaging our state.
If Prince overdosed, that series ended with these drugs taking the life of the state's most favorite son. And so, the narrative can go one of two ways. Either people will see this as another rocker dying because of drugs, or yet another person who was ensnared and finally claimed by painkillers. People will do nothing if it's seen as the former; Prince's end will only be an extension of the rock god myth. But if it's seen as the latter, maybe this country will start doing something about an addiction that is crippling this country. And maybe that could be Prince's final legacy.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Missing Watch
I don't know where my watch is. Took it off after getting in my car after work because it was so hot and my wrist was sweating. I know -- I swear -- I went back to my car after I got home to retrieve it, but I don't know where it is.
It's bugging the heck out of me because I rely on it so much. I hear that people don't use watches anymore, but I do. I need it when I want to know what time it is and I don't want to get up out of bed.
Since the last time I saw it it was around the house (if not in my possession), it has to be here, somewhere. It has to. But where? This is driving me flippin' nuts.
It's bugging the heck out of me because I rely on it so much. I hear that people don't use watches anymore, but I do. I need it when I want to know what time it is and I don't want to get up out of bed.
Since the last time I saw it it was around the house (if not in my possession), it has to be here, somewhere. It has to. But where? This is driving me flippin' nuts.
Friday, April 22, 2016
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#0: Timberwolves (Last Week: -Infinity). When the T-Wolves were shit there were a lot of people that were sounding the death knell for this franchise. Nobody would come here, they said, because it's too cold. And I'm going, Anybody would fucking come up here to play basketball! First of all, if there's someone up here willing to pay, they're going to play in Minnesota. But what those naysayers mean, of course, is that good players won't come up here. There's a key to solving that, though: Drafting really good, young players. If there's talent already there, that'll attract other good players.
And coaches. And since this organization finally has some extraordinary talent (a byproduct of being so awful that they receive the best players in the draft -- the draft wheel is a fucking bad idea), the best of everything is coming to the Frozen North. Guess there's no need to move the franchise now, huh?
It still kind of sucks that Sam Mitchell, pressed into head coaching duties after the death of his boss and mentor, Flip Saunders, was fired immediately after the season was over. But if that allowed Owner Glen Taylor to get Tom Thibodeau, I'm all for it. Borrowing the words of Rush Limbaugh after John McCain announced that Sarah Palin would be his running mate for Vice-President: "Fucking home run." But this time I think it's actually true.
Remember that Thibodeau, whose NBA coaching career began here as an Assistant Coach under Bill Musselman in the club's first year, was the assistant for the Boston Celtics that clamped down defensively against the Lakers on their way to the title that Kevin Garnett won there. Thibodeau then was hired as Head Coach of the Chicago Bulls where, with the luck of drafting Derrick Rose, he revived that team's future. He knows defense, and for all of the strides the Wolves made, they were all on offense. Mitchell's replacement needs to teach this young team how to defend. It is a perfect match made in heaven.
Now, some critics of the hire point to the end of Thibodeau's tenure in Chicago. He clashed with upper management, and his hard-driving practices eventually burned out his players. That's bad; that might even happen here in Minnesota. (That's partially why I can't just give the Woofs a Positive Numbers.) But the former issue is not a problem because Taylor made Thibodeau Director Of Basketball Operations. He has total control of personnel; he might careen the entire team towards disaster, but there can't be any acrimony when both sides of the management-coaching dialogue are represented by the same man. For the latter, frankly, I'll risk it. There is too much talent now to worry about how the players are going to feel about how hard they're working in shootarounds. And if it takes a drill sergeant to inject the final piece into a championship team, you give him everything it takes to succeed in doing that, and then you worry about the consequences after (hopefully) and NBA title. This is a risk you have to take.
Fantastic hire, the next of several great ones. As of right now, it's possible the Timberwolves may be the best franchise of The Local Big Four.
#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: 0). They won two-of-three at home against Maryland over the weekend, then crushed North Dakota St. 10-0 on Tuesday. But the reason they're in this spot is what the series win over the Terrapins gave them: Their first ranking, albeit in the online-only D1Baseball.com poll, for the first time in almost seven years. They just made it, at #25, and they might be able to improve upon it with a trio of games at Northwestern over the weekend, followed by another matchup with NDSU Tuesday, this time in Fargo, N.D.
#-2: Gopher softball (Last Week: -1). Yes, this club went undefeated over the weekend, crushing Rutgers in their three games (two of them mercy-ruled) by a combined score of 26-2 and doing it in only 18 total innings. Sara Groenewegen was named Co-B1G Player Of The Week for her efforts in destroying the Scarlet Knights. And they remain in the polls -- around 23 and 24, which is higher than their male counterparts. But it's the newness of the baseball team's accomplishments which compel me to rank them above the softball program, at least for this week. They play a challenging three-game series against Nebraska, a team that is orbiting around the Top 25, this weekend at Cowles Stadium.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -3). Well, that's better. No one can go 0-162, and the day that I put out last week's survey, they finally got their winning cherry popped by defeating Anaheim 5-4 on Jackie Robinson Day. In fact they went 5-2 for the whole week, giving the survey a really good week overall. The pitching has been pretty solid all year, although Ricky Nolasco is off to a very strong start, something I never thought I would see. But finally the bats have come around and the lineup is starting to crack, which is something I expected. Now to keep it going at Washington for three and then home for three vs. Cleveland starting on Monday.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -2). Yeah, it's over. It's humiliating, but despite showing some piss and vinegar in coming back from an early 2-0 hole in Game 3 to win 5-3 (Chris Porter's goal late in the first period to finally crack the scoring column was heavily important; on-site witnesses believed the Xcel Energy Center crowd were ready to boo the squad off the ice), they lost Game 4 3-2. So now the Mild have to win the last three games, two of themat home (ETA at 8:32 the evening of Friday, April 29 that I meant on the road) (starting with Game 5 tonight), to win the series. The franchise has done that before; I don't think this team has the sack to do it.
You know, I saw a picture of the Dallas skyline lit in purple last (Thursday) night. During tonight's game they probably will play Prince songs during the game -- as an homage to Prince as well as a nice gesture to the guest. I hope that the Mild don't get soft and in fact throw that hidden agenda back in those Bastard North Stars' faces -- figuratively speaking.
And coaches. And since this organization finally has some extraordinary talent (a byproduct of being so awful that they receive the best players in the draft -- the draft wheel is a fucking bad idea), the best of everything is coming to the Frozen North. Guess there's no need to move the franchise now, huh?
It still kind of sucks that Sam Mitchell, pressed into head coaching duties after the death of his boss and mentor, Flip Saunders, was fired immediately after the season was over. But if that allowed Owner Glen Taylor to get Tom Thibodeau, I'm all for it. Borrowing the words of Rush Limbaugh after John McCain announced that Sarah Palin would be his running mate for Vice-President: "Fucking home run." But this time I think it's actually true.
Remember that Thibodeau, whose NBA coaching career began here as an Assistant Coach under Bill Musselman in the club's first year, was the assistant for the Boston Celtics that clamped down defensively against the Lakers on their way to the title that Kevin Garnett won there. Thibodeau then was hired as Head Coach of the Chicago Bulls where, with the luck of drafting Derrick Rose, he revived that team's future. He knows defense, and for all of the strides the Wolves made, they were all on offense. Mitchell's replacement needs to teach this young team how to defend. It is a perfect match made in heaven.
Now, some critics of the hire point to the end of Thibodeau's tenure in Chicago. He clashed with upper management, and his hard-driving practices eventually burned out his players. That's bad; that might even happen here in Minnesota. (That's partially why I can't just give the Woofs a Positive Numbers.) But the former issue is not a problem because Taylor made Thibodeau Director Of Basketball Operations. He has total control of personnel; he might careen the entire team towards disaster, but there can't be any acrimony when both sides of the management-coaching dialogue are represented by the same man. For the latter, frankly, I'll risk it. There is too much talent now to worry about how the players are going to feel about how hard they're working in shootarounds. And if it takes a drill sergeant to inject the final piece into a championship team, you give him everything it takes to succeed in doing that, and then you worry about the consequences after (hopefully) and NBA title. This is a risk you have to take.
Fantastic hire, the next of several great ones. As of right now, it's possible the Timberwolves may be the best franchise of The Local Big Four.
#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: 0). They won two-of-three at home against Maryland over the weekend, then crushed North Dakota St. 10-0 on Tuesday. But the reason they're in this spot is what the series win over the Terrapins gave them: Their first ranking, albeit in the online-only D1Baseball.com poll, for the first time in almost seven years. They just made it, at #25, and they might be able to improve upon it with a trio of games at Northwestern over the weekend, followed by another matchup with NDSU Tuesday, this time in Fargo, N.D.
#-2: Gopher softball (Last Week: -1). Yes, this club went undefeated over the weekend, crushing Rutgers in their three games (two of them mercy-ruled) by a combined score of 26-2 and doing it in only 18 total innings. Sara Groenewegen was named Co-B1G Player Of The Week for her efforts in destroying the Scarlet Knights. And they remain in the polls -- around 23 and 24, which is higher than their male counterparts. But it's the newness of the baseball team's accomplishments which compel me to rank them above the softball program, at least for this week. They play a challenging three-game series against Nebraska, a team that is orbiting around the Top 25, this weekend at Cowles Stadium.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -3). Well, that's better. No one can go 0-162, and the day that I put out last week's survey, they finally got their winning cherry popped by defeating Anaheim 5-4 on Jackie Robinson Day. In fact they went 5-2 for the whole week, giving the survey a really good week overall. The pitching has been pretty solid all year, although Ricky Nolasco is off to a very strong start, something I never thought I would see. But finally the bats have come around and the lineup is starting to crack, which is something I expected. Now to keep it going at Washington for three and then home for three vs. Cleveland starting on Monday.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -2). Yeah, it's over. It's humiliating, but despite showing some piss and vinegar in coming back from an early 2-0 hole in Game 3 to win 5-3 (Chris Porter's goal late in the first period to finally crack the scoring column was heavily important; on-site witnesses believed the Xcel Energy Center crowd were ready to boo the squad off the ice), they lost Game 4 3-2. So now the Mild have to win the last three games, two of them
You know, I saw a picture of the Dallas skyline lit in purple last (Thursday) night. During tonight's game they probably will play Prince songs during the game -- as an homage to Prince as well as a nice gesture to the guest. I hope that the Mild don't get soft and in fact throw that hidden agenda back in those Bastard North Stars' faces -- figuratively speaking.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
I Can't Fucking Believe What They're Doing At Work, The Sequel
This really isn't an addendum, more like deja vu all over again. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak.
So everything is hunky dory with the new scoring place. Well, the commute sucks and it's not the coziest of rooms people-wise, but at least I didn't have to put up with someone being elevated to my boss right in the middle of a project. But on Monday, a whole new raft of people came in to start scoring. That's not too bad; I heard that up to 11 people no-showed at the start, and they can only train on papers starting on Monday. No big whoop.
But they added another immediate supervisor, too. Huh? I didn't think they would add one, especially since they (at least theoretically) staffed up that position to handle a certain number of grunts like us. Since fewer grunts like us showed up, you wouldn't need another supervisor. In fact, you could (at least theoretically) cut one because you have fewer people to supervise. But here he is.
This is totally unnerving, but I thought I could at least just deal with this situation not being totally similar to the old test scoring place because I didn't think I would have to deal with this new person. Except that yesterday (Wednesday), I got switched around when the entire room was broken off into other mini-projects, and he became my go-to. So whenever I had a question or I had to wait for further instructions, it would be this new person -- someone who started off on this project after me -- who will tell me.
How is that different than the situation at the old scoring place, the one where I was so infuriated by the move that I quit? Since Monday I'm trying to figure that shit out, to no avail. In the meantime I am still trudging to work every day, fearing that I am nothing more or less than a hypocrite.
So I will try and figure out how this situation is the same and different from the old one. This might be a little internal, but alas I need to stretch this out via bullet points:
Saw my direct deposit receipt Tuesday; made $1,300 my last two weeks over there. That was a lot of overtime. And I have basically used all of it already; a grand to pay off part of my credit card, the rest for taxes (and I'll still have to pay a bit on top of that). I won't come close to that amount at the new place. Someone keeps telling me we will have OT. I'll believe it when I see it.
And yet, I can't walk away. I walked away from one job, and I doubt they'll let me back. And I called my temp agencies; they're ain't shit they have for me. So I am stuck, goddammit. Even if things get progressively more inhospitable for me, I have no choice but to swallow down my fucking principles and take advice from a guy who, if he does in fact stick around, presumably knows less about this material than I do.
I have asked someone for an explanation for all the shit that is happening this week. If I really, really don't like it, maybe I will quit the new scoring place and try to go back to the old one. Hey, my immediate supervisor there shouldn't have the job and maybe doesn't want the job, but at least she's got a great ass and a nice rack. All the while I'm angry that she gets the responsibility of printing out papers at least I'll get to see her shake her ass.
Maybe I should have stayed.
So everything is hunky dory with the new scoring place. Well, the commute sucks and it's not the coziest of rooms people-wise, but at least I didn't have to put up with someone being elevated to my boss right in the middle of a project. But on Monday, a whole new raft of people came in to start scoring. That's not too bad; I heard that up to 11 people no-showed at the start, and they can only train on papers starting on Monday. No big whoop.
But they added another immediate supervisor, too. Huh? I didn't think they would add one, especially since they (at least theoretically) staffed up that position to handle a certain number of grunts like us. Since fewer grunts like us showed up, you wouldn't need another supervisor. In fact, you could (at least theoretically) cut one because you have fewer people to supervise. But here he is.
This is totally unnerving, but I thought I could at least just deal with this situation not being totally similar to the old test scoring place because I didn't think I would have to deal with this new person. Except that yesterday (Wednesday), I got switched around when the entire room was broken off into other mini-projects, and he became my go-to. So whenever I had a question or I had to wait for further instructions, it would be this new person -- someone who started off on this project after me -- who will tell me.
How is that different than the situation at the old scoring place, the one where I was so infuriated by the move that I quit? Since Monday I'm trying to figure that shit out, to no avail. In the meantime I am still trudging to work every day, fearing that I am nothing more or less than a hypocrite.
So I will try and figure out how this situation is the same and different from the old one. This might be a little internal, but alas I need to stretch this out via bullet points:
- Like I said, he started on this project after me.
- He did not start alongside me on this material.
- I know the person.
- This might be temporary.
- One final consideration: I can't walk away from a second job.
Saw my direct deposit receipt Tuesday; made $1,300 my last two weeks over there. That was a lot of overtime. And I have basically used all of it already; a grand to pay off part of my credit card, the rest for taxes (and I'll still have to pay a bit on top of that). I won't come close to that amount at the new place. Someone keeps telling me we will have OT. I'll believe it when I see it.
And yet, I can't walk away. I walked away from one job, and I doubt they'll let me back. And I called my temp agencies; they're ain't shit they have for me. So I am stuck, goddammit. Even if things get progressively more inhospitable for me, I have no choice but to swallow down my fucking principles and take advice from a guy who, if he does in fact stick around, presumably knows less about this material than I do.
I have asked someone for an explanation for all the shit that is happening this week. If I really, really don't like it, maybe I will quit the new scoring place and try to go back to the old one. Hey, my immediate supervisor there shouldn't have the job and maybe doesn't want the job, but at least she's got a great ass and a nice rack. All the while I'm angry that she gets the responsibility of printing out papers at least I'll get to see her shake her ass.
Maybe I should have stayed.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Yeah, I'm Beginning To Regret My Decision To Leave
The commute was one thing I knew was going to be bad, and it has been all that and more. Yesterday, coming home from work, I was shunted to cutting through downtown, where I was going to get back onto the highway I needed to get to, but the street I needed to use was closed for some goddamn reason, and then once I got closer to home traffic that usually isn't there was suddenly there because of some fucking accident. I have been getting home in 50 minutes on the best day. Yesterday it took me 80.
I said that if you asked me if I regret my decision to quit the old test scoring job for the new one I would say it would depend on when you asked me. If you asked me while I'm driving home, or as I type this right now, it would be yes. But the time I'm thinking that I made a big mistake in jumping ship is spreading beyond times like my afternoon commute.
I can't quite put my finger on some things. The vibe of the room, especially this week, has taken a turn for the worse. The leader of the room seems to be kind of a bitch, although I have talked to her in the past and I know she is a decent person. This week there are new people, and that blindsided the shit out of me because I left my old job partly because of that same reason. I need to talk about that, maybe for next time.
What really got me, though, was what happened yesterday afternoon. I get up out of my seat a lot, to get coffee or use the bathroom. I'm restless that way, and I feel like I need a brain break in order to be able to concentrate on my work. After I did that, my immediate supervisor chased me just as I left the room and told me I couldn't do that anymore. I'm not quite sure what the reason behind it was, but apparently the room has been "hearing complaints" about people from our room loitering in the hallway, or at least they are afraid of ginning up a perception of people from our room loitering in the hallway.
I don't know why in the hell she singled me out. I get up a lot, but I am prompt in coming back, always, and I have never loitered in the hallway or the break room or anywhere else. (I was planning on reading the paper for a few minutes on my way out the door, but don't tell her.) She seemed pretty apologetic about stopping me, and I have been on the other end of this and had to tell other people to stop loitering. But she told this to me, and I feel like I have been accused of something I didn't do.
But, I apologized and insisted that all I was doing is going to the bathroom and back, which I did. But now what? Am I not able to leave, not even to pee or get water? I think my work speaks for itself, but apparently I have been perceived as a "loiterer" who cannot be trusted. Well, then, I'm a lawbreaker too, because if I need to get up for coffee or to relieve myself, I'm doing it.
I now see a stark contrast between the two test scoring places. The old place angered me because of one move that reflected how lax they are in their profession and with the treatment of their employees. This new place has issued a series of things reflected how unyielding they are in their profession and with the treatment of their employees. Call me Goldilocks, but I want a place that's just right. So right now, I want to run away from this situation like I did when I was stuck in the middle of the previous situation.
Shit, stuck ... I'll be stuck in traffic until this motherfucking project is over.
I said that if you asked me if I regret my decision to quit the old test scoring job for the new one I would say it would depend on when you asked me. If you asked me while I'm driving home, or as I type this right now, it would be yes. But the time I'm thinking that I made a big mistake in jumping ship is spreading beyond times like my afternoon commute.
I can't quite put my finger on some things. The vibe of the room, especially this week, has taken a turn for the worse. The leader of the room seems to be kind of a bitch, although I have talked to her in the past and I know she is a decent person. This week there are new people, and that blindsided the shit out of me because I left my old job partly because of that same reason. I need to talk about that, maybe for next time.
What really got me, though, was what happened yesterday afternoon. I get up out of my seat a lot, to get coffee or use the bathroom. I'm restless that way, and I feel like I need a brain break in order to be able to concentrate on my work. After I did that, my immediate supervisor chased me just as I left the room and told me I couldn't do that anymore. I'm not quite sure what the reason behind it was, but apparently the room has been "hearing complaints" about people from our room loitering in the hallway, or at least they are afraid of ginning up a perception of people from our room loitering in the hallway.
I don't know why in the hell she singled me out. I get up a lot, but I am prompt in coming back, always, and I have never loitered in the hallway or the break room or anywhere else. (I was planning on reading the paper for a few minutes on my way out the door, but don't tell her.) She seemed pretty apologetic about stopping me, and I have been on the other end of this and had to tell other people to stop loitering. But she told this to me, and I feel like I have been accused of something I didn't do.
But, I apologized and insisted that all I was doing is going to the bathroom and back, which I did. But now what? Am I not able to leave, not even to pee or get water? I think my work speaks for itself, but apparently I have been perceived as a "loiterer" who cannot be trusted. Well, then, I'm a lawbreaker too, because if I need to get up for coffee or to relieve myself, I'm doing it.
I now see a stark contrast between the two test scoring places. The old place angered me because of one move that reflected how lax they are in their profession and with the treatment of their employees. This new place has issued a series of things reflected how unyielding they are in their profession and with the treatment of their employees. Call me Goldilocks, but I want a place that's just right. So right now, I want to run away from this situation like I did when I was stuck in the middle of the previous situation.
Shit, stuck ... I'll be stuck in traffic until this motherfucking project is over.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
Bad Driver: 814 BPE (green truck with camper shell)
OK, sorry I drove onto the intersection. That was a flagrant violation of Minnesota driving law. Being on your cellphone while driving, of course, is not.
You fucking asshole.
You fucking asshole.
Addendum To: I Think I Got Fucked By My Taxes
OK, so I flew off the handle a little bit when I thought I had to file my state taxes at a date different from the federal ones. Turns out Minnesota did come to its senses and pushed their filing date from April 15 to April 18, just like the federal. So I do not have to pay a penalty for the taxes I electronically sent last (Sunday) night.
Still sucks that I have to pay, though.
Still sucks that I have to pay, though.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Girls In Their Summer Clothes!
Seventies this weekend. Yes, even if this is above average and even if there's going to be a correction soon (even though it isn't coming next week), I feel confident in saying that winter is now behind us!
That is a good thing. I usually fear spring because of allergies. Well, this year I took care of that by priming nose with nasal spray that I started taking all the fucking way back in mid-February! So I get to go outside without sneezing every single second ... and watch the babes in their skimpy clothing!
Goddammit, I'm 40 and I'm going to be honest: I love babes wearing summer clothes. (Actually, I think I've said that many times in WAF.) I went out Friday night to Glam Doll and the girl who works there, who's already hot, is not hot and wearing fewer clothes. She has pale skin and glasses -- you know, a hot Daria. And she has tattoos in the front of her chest, a few of which you can tell incorporate her breasts, or at least the area very close to them. The past couple times I saw her she was wearing a halter top with a barebelly, and I could see even more of her tats. And even though we don't talk much, we smile a lot towards each other, so there's a connection there. I like her bare skin, her pale skin, and I want to think that if I ask her one day, "So what does your tat say?" And then she'd take off her top and show me. Well, maybe not. Maybe she'll say, "Oh, it's about this, and it extends to my nipples, and ..." blah-blah-blah, and we would have even more of a connection. Hot weather gives me that next step.
Oh, also at Glam Doll there was this statuesque blonde wearing a jacket and a skimpy white top. No barebelly, but I totally noticed her. Oh, she was beautiful. Can I say she's beautiful? No, I'm not going to go up to her and tell her that. But I don't think it's a problem if I say it here! I love beautiful women! And the skimpier the clothes, the better!
And another thing: I went out yesterday to celebrate Record Store Day. Went to two places. A babe in both. One was Asian and was totally rocking a barebelly. Could work out, but I'm not complaining. The other was wearing a shirt that showed skin only when the wind was blowing. And thank goodness the wind was blowing yesterday! She has a body underneath that!
---
I want to talk about smartphones in ass pockets, but I'm currently juggling conversations on Facebook with two hot and smart women. And then I have to send my taxes. Gotta go! Take it away, Boss!
Saturday, April 16, 2016
I Think I Got Fucked By My Taxes
OK, I'm kind of in an furious buzz right now due to two, uh, oversights that I just found while hurriedly finishing my taxes today in order to go to the airport post office and file them tomorrow so I could avoid waiting in line and paying money Monday.
First off, I really thought I was getting a refund, a big refund, this year. But when I redid my calculations I realized that I wrote down the wrong amount of income I made in 2015 -- by six grand. I know that I saw on the computer calculator an "8," yet I put down "2" on the paper. That swung the refund through the federal from about $500 into a payment of about $300, and the state from a refund of $165 to a payment of about $135.
But what has really gotten me pissed off is something I didn't see until reading through the payment section in the state tax packet. The federal deadline to pay taxes is Monday the 18th, not the 15th, because it's a federal holiday. Well, since I do both my federal and state taxes at the same time, I assumed that the Minnesota taxes were also due on Monday. But while I was looking through instructions on how to pay, I see that the deadline to file taxes is listed as Friday, April 15. If that's the case, I am technically late on my state taxes, and therefore I will have to pay a penalty on top of what I owe to the state of Minnesota.
Oh my God, this is fucking pissing me the fuck off. Why in the hell would taxes for the state and the federal be days apart? Why can't the goddamn state just say their taxes are due Monday? This is the last and worst of this really fucked-up way the state is doing taxes. They have followed the federal government in not sending out paper forms. They apparently are not supplying paper copies in libraries. Instead, you now have to print them out or make copies -- on your dime. Moreover, the state has now printed out only one copy of each form instead of two. I relied on both copies; one was a rough draft so I could fix all my mistakes, and from that rough first copy I could make the second one my clean and definitive one. Now I can't; now I have to -- you guessed it -- print a copy. (The online copy sucks, too; there are no boxes for the digits, so I just fucking wrote the numbers all over the place. I don't know where those goddamn numbers go!)
And now this extra penalty for assuming that I could file my state and federal taxes on the same day. I have already been surprised by realizing I need to pay because of a fucking stupid copy error (I surprised myself admittedly). And now, not only do I have money sucked out of my wallet, Minnesota is going to suck more money out of my wallet? Fuck you! Seriously, fuck you!
First off, I really thought I was getting a refund, a big refund, this year. But when I redid my calculations I realized that I wrote down the wrong amount of income I made in 2015 -- by six grand. I know that I saw on the computer calculator an "8," yet I put down "2" on the paper. That swung the refund through the federal from about $500 into a payment of about $300, and the state from a refund of $165 to a payment of about $135.
But what has really gotten me pissed off is something I didn't see until reading through the payment section in the state tax packet. The federal deadline to pay taxes is Monday the 18th, not the 15th, because it's a federal holiday. Well, since I do both my federal and state taxes at the same time, I assumed that the Minnesota taxes were also due on Monday. But while I was looking through instructions on how to pay, I see that the deadline to file taxes is listed as Friday, April 15. If that's the case, I am technically late on my state taxes, and therefore I will have to pay a penalty on top of what I owe to the state of Minnesota.
Oh my God, this is fucking pissing me the fuck off. Why in the hell would taxes for the state and the federal be days apart? Why can't the goddamn state just say their taxes are due Monday? This is the last and worst of this really fucked-up way the state is doing taxes. They have followed the federal government in not sending out paper forms. They apparently are not supplying paper copies in libraries. Instead, you now have to print them out or make copies -- on your dime. Moreover, the state has now printed out only one copy of each form instead of two. I relied on both copies; one was a rough draft so I could fix all my mistakes, and from that rough first copy I could make the second one my clean and definitive one. Now I can't; now I have to -- you guessed it -- print a copy. (The online copy sucks, too; there are no boxes for the digits, so I just fucking wrote the numbers all over the place. I don't know where those goddamn numbers go!)
And now this extra penalty for assuming that I could file my state and federal taxes on the same day. I have already been surprised by realizing I need to pay because of a fucking stupid copy error (I surprised myself admittedly). And now, not only do I have money sucked out of my wallet, Minnesota is going to suck more money out of my wallet? Fuck you! Seriously, fuck you!
Friday, April 15, 2016
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Positive Numbers: Gopher women's gymnastics (BRAND NEW!!!). OK, bear with me on this because I have never done this before and I probably will never do it again. Since I went to my first-ever gymnastics meet, an NCAA tournament regional at the Sports Pavilion at the University of Minnesota, I am compelled to at least document one time a gymnast who may be the greatest in the history of the program, Lindsay Mable.
I have been told that she has been great, and I saw a lot of that greatest in the regional, even though she fell on her ass during the floor exercise. Nevertheless she is the leader of a burgeoning group, ran the table in the Big Ten and helped the Gophers get back into the NCAAs for the first time in three years. But what was announced yesterday (Thursday) trumps all of that. Mable, a Senior, was named the winner of the AAI Award, considered the Heisman Trophy for gymnasts. And it's the first time ever that a Golden Gopher has won the award. Never knew such an trophy existed until now, but congratulations to her. Oh, and the Aurora, Colo. native is pretty cute, too!
It looks as though things are looking up for the U., which hosts a three-game series against Maryland this weekend. This will be followed up by a game Tuesday against ... North Dakota St., the team they were slated to play more than a week ago. I don't know if this was re-scheduled or scheduled all along. College baseball skeds are weird.
#-1: Gopher softball (Last Week: -1). A bit of a speedbump for the underhanded hurler squad. Despite sweeping three from Illinois at Cowles Stadium over the weekend (including a 13-0, five-inning mercy-rule triumph in Saturday's first game of a doubleheader), they got swept at home in a doubleheader by Wisconsin Tuesday. I don't know if the Badgers are a juggernaut, but getting swept at home to any team will certainly drop the Goofers from the polls. And now this weekend they have three at Rutgers. Will the struggles continue?
#-2: Wild (Last Week: -2). If there is a team that is looking as bad as this team at the worst possible time, the Mild, looking like they're in their Hyde phase, is it. They dogged it in the regular season finale against The Bastard Atlanta Flames, which may be because longtime Goaltender Nicklas Backstrom was in goal for visiting Calgary, and he got the First Star and a rousing ovation from Mild fans because of his impending retirement after an honorable career.
That set up a first-round matchup with the team with the best record in the Western Conference, The Team That Was Stolen From Us. This a lose-lose situation. I fear my most violent urges shooting out of me if I ever see a jersey from that fucking team around town. I really don't know if I can control myself. I could just throw one of those fucking assholes over the stairs or something. Then again, if I do control myself I think I would be ashamed of not being assertive and going through on my feelings ... which are to become very violent to these opposing fans.
Well, I don't know how much time I have to decide whether or not meeting up with The Bastard North Stars is a good thing or a bad thing. Last (Thursday) night they beat the shit out of Minnesota, 4-0 in Game 1. Didn't help that Zach Parise and Tomas Vanek didn't even make the trip there, and so the organization likely will be at a disadvantage for Game 2. Erik Haula also didn't play in Game 1, and I have no idea if he'll be ready for the next one.
Well, they're still a bunch of goddamn hockey thieves anyway.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -3). OK, this is fucking ridiculous. Got swept twice this screening week, first in Kansas City, then to open up Target Field to the White Sox. That's 0-9, the worst start in Minnesota Twins history.
At work yesterday (Thursday) afternoon the guy next to me told me that the Twinks were losing as we spoke (they lost to Chicago 3-1). But he told me that pitching wasn't the problem, and it hasn't been: Besides a 7-0 dick-smack against the Royals Saturday, the squad gave up 4, 4, 4, 3 and 3 runs this screening week. It's the lack of hitting, especially with runners in scoring position, that has hurt the team so far. And Byung Ho Park, at least according to my friend, has sucked.
Well, now that I know what is currently ailing the team, believe it or not, I'm not that worried. Going into the year it was not the hitting that people were worried about. And as long as the pitching remains decent-to-good, I would think the law of averages will finally mean more hitting, more hitting when people are on base, and Park finally to hit more. OK, the last one holds less water theoretically. But I their good season last year cannot be a fluke, especially if the lineup, which was the main reason why they turned it around in 2015, remains the same this year. So I won't reach for the Pepto-Bismol just yet.
They host Anaheim over the weekend, then have a four-game split series against Milwaukee -- here for two first, then there for two.
#-Infinity: Timberwolves (Last Week: Positive Numbers). This may be the most positive end-of-season blurb I have done for any team in the history of the WMNSS. They finished the regular season with a 2-1 screening week, nipping the Trail Blazers in Portland, getting crushed by Houston (which did get into the playoffs with the help of Utah losing to the Lakers behind Kobe Bryant's 60 points in his last-ever game; man, if you can still drop 60, why leave?), then finally routing The Bastard Charlotte Hornets, a team that packed it in weeks ago, by 35 points.
Yeah, those wins may have been gimmes. But it still says something that veteran teams with little to play for give way for young, hungry teams that seem to have finally gotten it and are beginning to gel. This is a very exciting time to observe this team. Behind Karl-Anthony Towns, Andrew Wiggins, Zach LaVine, Ricky Rubio and a bunch of youthful complementary pieces, the future is looking extremely bright. Better days, and better teams, are surely ahead.
Unfortunately for Interim Head Coach Sam Mitchell and General Manager Milt Newton, those days and teams go ahead without them. The day before Wednesday's finale against New Orleans, word got out that the Timberpuppies have hired a search firm to go looking for a new Head Coach. I thought only college athletic directors need to hire a search firm. Learn something new every day. I also learned that even though we assume that the man currently running the team will be taken under consideration for the full-time job, when someone leaks the news that a coaching search firm has been hired, the person serving as Head Coach on an interim basis indeed will not be given consideration for said job.
And I am actually kind of torn. Mitchell criticized this young club for a long time, so it appeared as though there was much friction between coach and team. But yet they had a very decent finishing kick to the season. I can only endorse his firing under "advanced metrics" thinking -- that is, that you're taking the hunch that the company man has only so much basketball intellect, and now that the team has demonstrated it can play together (and play well together), you need to find an even better Head Coach to take this team to the next level. Because Minnesota is now an extremely attractive job (whodathunkit? Not too long ago many writers were convinced no one would want to coach at Minnesota just because it's Minnesota. Knew that was bullshit), there seems to be three pretty good names that could replace Mitchell: Former Chicago Bulls HC Tom Thibodeau, Ex-Bastard Seattle SuperSonics HC Scott Brooks (who, you may remember, actually played for the T-Wolves), and current Bastard Vancouver Grizzlies HC Dave Joerger. Thibodeau's my pick; he can supply the defense that this team currently lacks. But the person selected to take control of this team has so many delightful weapons to play with. It's an owner's market now.
I have a little more skepticism about firing Newton. He wasn't on the job for long, and Flip Saunders appeared to be the one who made all the draft picks and free agent signings. Then again, a three-year-old could have selected Towns with the #1 draft pick. Newton didn't show any boneheaded moves nor did he make any masterful ones -- because he didn't have the time to. (shrug) Don't know who they'll turn to on the front office front.
Nevertheless, the dark days of this organization are clearly behind them. In fact, of The Four Sports in the Twin Cities, the best -- not the most promising, but the best -- team may in fact be this one. I'm not shitting you.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Life With A Single Mother Is Mostly Great
Mother has been home for more than a month now. I always thought that my parents were inseparable. They went to The Store together, and they went home together. When they started to enjoy life, they took vacations together. And now they are retired and travelling the world together. So, when they were done wintering in Vegas, I assumed they were coming home together, like they did last year, like they did whenever they had trips out to Las Vegas. But she surprised me when she said Father was staying in Vegas, at least for a while.
It's been a month now, and I have to say that living with Mother alone is a hell of a lot different than living with both parents again, or what I imagine living with Father alone must be like. On the whole I think I have lost more than I gained. I can't strew my clothes about just anywhere with her here. I also can't sleep in my sister's bed, nor can I masturbate everywhere around the house.
But it hasn't been all bad. For one thing -- the obvious thing -- I get to have a more-than-decent meal cooked by Mother every night. Not only is it damn nourishing, it is also free. But more than that, the constant nagging I thought was shared by both parental units has largely been kept to a minimum. Mother still gets to arguing on some things; for example, just after dinner last (Wednesday) night she told me the bag of leaves were supposed to go in the trash and not the recycling bin when we both know that that bag should be sent to the compost site. But there has been little talk of the bullshit that has permanently struck a wedge between me and My Fucking Father: No cleaning up my room, no when are you going to go back to school, no when are you going to find a girlfriend, no why don't you set up a schedule.
It appears, then, that the condescension and the bitter fusillades against me and where my life has been and where it's going is confined to Daddy. I think Mother wants me to get on with my life too, but I think that she has not been nagging on me ever since she got home because 1) she knows how it affects me; 2) she sees how I react with My Fucking Father gets on me on one of those things; and 3) she might not care. All she has been is ... there. And you know, that actually is kind of nice. Funny to remember her growing up as the mean parent. Now, I think how she is treating me as unconditional love, which is something I've never had before.
Alas, I think it's about to end soon. Really I've been holding my breath ever since I realized that living with just Mother was going to be OK, because I knew that that "dream" was going to end. It hasn't happened for a month, but I suspect that's because the weather here has been fairly cold and dodgy, and he was just sick of that shit. But as of yesterday (Wednesday) it has really warmed up and it appears as though the days of nights below freezing are finally behind us. That means the weather here is warm enough for him to come back. And that means that all the nagging and lecturing and fucking questions will come back too. Oh, and I'll have to mind what I throw on the floor of my bedroom, also. Fucking Christ.
Oh, one other thing: Mother last (Wednesday) night teased me about showering before or after I do the laundry: "You can't be wondering if and when you shower once your father gets home!" First of all, I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks about me showering or not showering, and he can squawk about that as much as he wants. But the main issue I have with her "wait until your father gets home!" threat is that Mother, after being such an imperious figure in my life to the point she ruined me for all other women, showed once again that ultimately she will enslave herself to the patriarchy and defer all potential "punishments" to the motherfucking man of the household. If I knew before, oh, I left for college that she really was nothing but a coward at heart, I wouldn't have been so afraid of her. Saying that, I really hate that she said that. I mean, fuck Father.
It's been a month now, and I have to say that living with Mother alone is a hell of a lot different than living with both parents again, or what I imagine living with Father alone must be like. On the whole I think I have lost more than I gained. I can't strew my clothes about just anywhere with her here. I also can't sleep in my sister's bed, nor can I masturbate everywhere around the house.
But it hasn't been all bad. For one thing -- the obvious thing -- I get to have a more-than-decent meal cooked by Mother every night. Not only is it damn nourishing, it is also free. But more than that, the constant nagging I thought was shared by both parental units has largely been kept to a minimum. Mother still gets to arguing on some things; for example, just after dinner last (Wednesday) night she told me the bag of leaves were supposed to go in the trash and not the recycling bin when we both know that that bag should be sent to the compost site. But there has been little talk of the bullshit that has permanently struck a wedge between me and My Fucking Father: No cleaning up my room, no when are you going to go back to school, no when are you going to find a girlfriend, no why don't you set up a schedule.
It appears, then, that the condescension and the bitter fusillades against me and where my life has been and where it's going is confined to Daddy. I think Mother wants me to get on with my life too, but I think that she has not been nagging on me ever since she got home because 1) she knows how it affects me; 2) she sees how I react with My Fucking Father gets on me on one of those things; and 3) she might not care. All she has been is ... there. And you know, that actually is kind of nice. Funny to remember her growing up as the mean parent. Now, I think how she is treating me as unconditional love, which is something I've never had before.
Alas, I think it's about to end soon. Really I've been holding my breath ever since I realized that living with just Mother was going to be OK, because I knew that that "dream" was going to end. It hasn't happened for a month, but I suspect that's because the weather here has been fairly cold and dodgy, and he was just sick of that shit. But as of yesterday (Wednesday) it has really warmed up and it appears as though the days of nights below freezing are finally behind us. That means the weather here is warm enough for him to come back. And that means that all the nagging and lecturing and fucking questions will come back too. Oh, and I'll have to mind what I throw on the floor of my bedroom, also. Fucking Christ.
Oh, one other thing: Mother last (Wednesday) night teased me about showering before or after I do the laundry: "You can't be wondering if and when you shower once your father gets home!" First of all, I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks about me showering or not showering, and he can squawk about that as much as he wants. But the main issue I have with her "wait until your father gets home!" threat is that Mother, after being such an imperious figure in my life to the point she ruined me for all other women, showed once again that ultimately she will enslave herself to the patriarchy and defer all potential "punishments" to the motherfucking man of the household. If I knew before, oh, I left for college that she really was nothing but a coward at heart, I wouldn't have been so afraid of her. Saying that, I really hate that she said that. I mean, fuck Father.
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