Spent the afternoon and evening helping *****e* move. I and about seven other guys pitched in. Man, that's a lot of handjobs she'll need to do to make up for it.
I got really tired near the end of my stay helping to move shit for her. In fact, I got a little tirangry. It may have come out as I was helping this dude try to pull *****e*'s treadmill up from downstairs. I don't know if you've ever tried moving a treadmill, let alone pulling it up from downstairs, but trust me, it'll ruin you -- as it did me, who was helping pull that goddamn thing up 14 stairsteps when the other guy said it won't through the threshold unless we go all the way back down and rotate the treadmill so it's vertical, not horizontal. That's when I dropped my head and reached for my back.
And I think it got around that I wasn't really projecting a positive image because a bit later *****e* checked up on me: "Are you OK? How's your back?" she said, and even though I appreciate her concern, I know that she was concerned -- that she even knew about my quick tantrum -- because the guy who I was pulling that treadmill with told her. And I'm not sure if he was actually being helpful, or if he said it like, "Dude, that handsome guy in the white t-shirt? He's got a bad back, and he's dragging all of us down. You've got to get rid of him!" Again, I was getting so exhausted that I really wanted to leave. But I don't know to be badmouthed behind my back, please.
And now I've got the reputation as the prick who whines a lot. Great.
Friday, August 31, 2018
Thursday, August 30, 2018
The Fiery Gatekeeper
It's getting worse, a lot worse. Now it really burns when I pee. It's gotten so bad that I have become incontinent, not being able to expel through my pisshole and not feeling the urge to go. And I thought the pills I got were supposed to make me feel better.
About the not being able to piss thing ... I have no idea how it happened. But I think pissing has gotten so painful, especially over the course of last night, that my body just shut down that entryway out of my body. But I still have to pee, as difficult as that is now. I have this primordial fear that there is a build-up of urine in my bladder. What can I do? Work out it out? Sweat it out? Or just wait and see that my bladder will burst, giving me septic shock and ... you know.
And then I force myself to piss, even though I don't know if that's the right thing to do. For the past day or so urinating has been painful to the point of impossibility. I have no strength, no flow; therefore my pee comes out of my pisshole weakly, and at an odd angle to the opening of my urethra. It just happened at the Fair last night; after straining for a good minute or so, all I could do is piss my orange piss all around the toilet seat. And after I got done I saw a couple wet spots on the pants I was wearing. Good fucking lord, I literally pissed myself for the first time since I was a child, maybe ever. It was that humiliating an episode.
Maybe my primoridal fear is about urinating -- by which I mean the exact mechanism of pissing itself. And furthermore, this fear stems from something very specific about my piss, namely where the pain is at its most unbearable. I'm building up the urge, you know, and then at some point I feel my pee reach the end of my dickhole, and that's when it gets unbearable, you know? It feels as though I would be fine, and that my urethra is fine, except for the very end of it, right where I can expel my pee out of my body. It's that part that, for some reason, is turning my life upside-down right now. And it's only that area, that spot, whether it be a virus or bacteria or soap or rubbing it against my underwear for some goddamn reason or ... some other disease ... whatever the source, I'm going on and on about how I am losing my fucking mind because of the end of my dickhole. Just that point of pain is backing up everything else, that is making me feel swollen, that is scaring me into thinking that my body is just filling up with liquid waste that will kill me if I don't get it out of me soon. That is the fiery gatekeeper I'm imagining now. That is the enemy I have to deal with -- and that I feel I am losing to.
So my plan is to not fight this anymore. If I have to go, OK, but I'll try not to piss today. Maybe not shoving urine up through my urethra is part of getting better. In the meantime I had to listen to my body and go to bed early. Maybe my body needed me to rest in order to oust this fiery gatekeeper. And if that doesn't work -- well, I have an arrangement to see my doctor tomorrow. So the last part of this plan is to pray.
About the not being able to piss thing ... I have no idea how it happened. But I think pissing has gotten so painful, especially over the course of last night, that my body just shut down that entryway out of my body. But I still have to pee, as difficult as that is now. I have this primordial fear that there is a build-up of urine in my bladder. What can I do? Work out it out? Sweat it out? Or just wait and see that my bladder will burst, giving me septic shock and ... you know.
And then I force myself to piss, even though I don't know if that's the right thing to do. For the past day or so urinating has been painful to the point of impossibility. I have no strength, no flow; therefore my pee comes out of my pisshole weakly, and at an odd angle to the opening of my urethra. It just happened at the Fair last night; after straining for a good minute or so, all I could do is piss my orange piss all around the toilet seat. And after I got done I saw a couple wet spots on the pants I was wearing. Good fucking lord, I literally pissed myself for the first time since I was a child, maybe ever. It was that humiliating an episode.
Maybe my primoridal fear is about urinating -- by which I mean the exact mechanism of pissing itself. And furthermore, this fear stems from something very specific about my piss, namely where the pain is at its most unbearable. I'm building up the urge, you know, and then at some point I feel my pee reach the end of my dickhole, and that's when it gets unbearable, you know? It feels as though I would be fine, and that my urethra is fine, except for the very end of it, right where I can expel my pee out of my body. It's that part that, for some reason, is turning my life upside-down right now. And it's only that area, that spot, whether it be a virus or bacteria or soap or rubbing it against my underwear for some goddamn reason or ... some other disease ... whatever the source, I'm going on and on about how I am losing my fucking mind because of the end of my dickhole. Just that point of pain is backing up everything else, that is making me feel swollen, that is scaring me into thinking that my body is just filling up with liquid waste that will kill me if I don't get it out of me soon. That is the fiery gatekeeper I'm imagining now. That is the enemy I have to deal with -- and that I feel I am losing to.
So my plan is to not fight this anymore. If I have to go, OK, but I'll try not to piss today. Maybe not shoving urine up through my urethra is part of getting better. In the meantime I had to listen to my body and go to bed early. Maybe my body needed me to rest in order to oust this fiery gatekeeper. And if that doesn't work -- well, I have an arrangement to see my doctor tomorrow. So the last part of this plan is to pray.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Um, It's Not Working
Yeah, it's been less than two days. But frankly, I thought this burning piss medicine would work instantly -- I mean, I would feel relief right after I took it for the very first time Monday evening. But that didn't happen. And I haven't felt much relief since. Not after a day, not after what I would consider a decent night's rest where I listened to my body and fell asleep at midnight, a rest I woke from this morning.
It's gotten so bad that I've been afraid to pee. I didn't feel the need to go this morning, but I knew that was because mentally and physically I did not want to feel the prospect of my pisshole hurting me. Eventually I had to, and yep, that burning sensation was still there, two days after I began this medication.
I set up a doctor's appointment this Friday as a contingency. Now I need a miracle for something to happen; otherwise, I am following my doc's advice and coming in to see him for more aggressive treatment ... and doing so on the last-ever day I get insurance through the state. That is important; otherwise I have no idea how much this would set me back. And I'm still afraid it won't work.
It's gotten so bad that I've been afraid to pee. I didn't feel the need to go this morning, but I knew that was because mentally and physically I did not want to feel the prospect of my pisshole hurting me. Eventually I had to, and yep, that burning sensation was still there, two days after I began this medication.
I set up a doctor's appointment this Friday as a contingency. Now I need a miracle for something to happen; otherwise, I am following my doc's advice and coming in to see him for more aggressive treatment ... and doing so on the last-ever day I get insurance through the state. That is important; otherwise I have no idea how much this would set me back. And I'm still afraid it won't work.
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Mmmm, Orange Piss!
This is my last week of having health insurance through the state. It's been great for me. First I paid nothing for it, lately I've paid $16 a month for it, and in return I can go to my doctor and the U. for my teeth, and I don't have to pay any co-pays. It's been glorious.
Starting on Wednesday I believe it has started to burn when I pee. I think it was a combination of wearing too-tight jeans and not showering. But after five days of this, combined with an unsubstantiated fear that putting this off my cost me more money in the long run, combined with wanting to use my current insurance one more time before I have to start paying more (way more) through my workplace, I did a spur-of-the-moment thing and went to my doctor less than two hours before my appointment.
I explained my predicament when I made the appointment, so when I got there I was swiftly given a cup to piss in. And just as my doctor examined my penis and testicles for bumps, the tests from the pee sample were back. That's quick.
There is nothing serious going on, at least he didn't think so. No Urinary Tract Infection, no diabetes, no blood indicating I'm bleeding internally. He just thinks my urethra has gotten a little irritated. So, to combat this, he got me a prescription of pills that'll last me three or four days. If the burning sensation isn't gone by the end of the week, he said, come back.
The medication is phenazopyridine. I'm supposed to take three pills each day, and it's an analgesic. But there is a pronounced side effect emanating from the ingestion of these pills that cause two gnarly things to happen. One is that my piss is supposed to turn orange. It's an indication that I am absorbing these pills, but ... damn, orange piss?!
The other side effect actually sounds scarier. It says right on the bottle, and I quote, "Soft contact lenses may become permanently discolored by this medicine." What the fuck?! Now, I don't wear contact lenses at all, but if something I'm taking is able to do that to a non-permanent tool that is in some way connected to my body, and that connection is some distance away from the mouth, shit, maybe I shouldn't be taking it. Jus' sayin'.
Oh, and it's possible phenazopyridine is a carcinogen. Whatevs, as long as it stops my burning piss.
Starting on Wednesday I believe it has started to burn when I pee. I think it was a combination of wearing too-tight jeans and not showering. But after five days of this, combined with an unsubstantiated fear that putting this off my cost me more money in the long run, combined with wanting to use my current insurance one more time before I have to start paying more (way more) through my workplace, I did a spur-of-the-moment thing and went to my doctor less than two hours before my appointment.
I explained my predicament when I made the appointment, so when I got there I was swiftly given a cup to piss in. And just as my doctor examined my penis and testicles for bumps, the tests from the pee sample were back. That's quick.
There is nothing serious going on, at least he didn't think so. No Urinary Tract Infection, no diabetes, no blood indicating I'm bleeding internally. He just thinks my urethra has gotten a little irritated. So, to combat this, he got me a prescription of pills that'll last me three or four days. If the burning sensation isn't gone by the end of the week, he said, come back.
The medication is phenazopyridine. I'm supposed to take three pills each day, and it's an analgesic. But there is a pronounced side effect emanating from the ingestion of these pills that cause two gnarly things to happen. One is that my piss is supposed to turn orange. It's an indication that I am absorbing these pills, but ... damn, orange piss?!
The other side effect actually sounds scarier. It says right on the bottle, and I quote, "Soft contact lenses may become permanently discolored by this medicine." What the fuck?! Now, I don't wear contact lenses at all, but if something I'm taking is able to do that to a non-permanent tool that is in some way connected to my body, and that connection is some distance away from the mouth, shit, maybe I shouldn't be taking it. Jus' sayin'.
Oh, and it's possible phenazopyridine is a carcinogen. Whatevs, as long as it stops my burning piss.
Monday, August 27, 2018
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher volleyball (Re-Entry!). This team began play this past weekend with The Big Ten/ACC Challenge, both a season-opening showcase event for the sport (even though I don't think more than a thousand people attending the matches I attended) and a dress rehearsal for Target Center, which hosted the four games consisting of the U., Wisconsin, Florida St. and North Carolina and will host the championship in December. And I can tell you now that, by watching both Gophers matches (the one Friday vs. the Seminoles in-person, the end of the one Saturday versus UNC on the TV while I was exercising), I know that these women don't have it this year.
Sure, they won both games. But for some odd goddamn reason, after the U. was cruising in Set 3, Florida St. started to come back. The 'Noles scored three in a row to know up the game at 18 before the squad finally put them away at 21. And they actually dropped a set to the Tar Heels. Albeit that Set 3 was won 30-28, Carolina only lost Set 2 26-24 and Set 4 25-23. Championship clubs beat down their opponents, no matter what. It would have been a fairy tale to see the U. finally win the big one for the first time in their hometown. But it ain't gonna happen, no sirree.
They go back to the Sports ... er, Maturi Pavilion for the Diet Coke Classic next weekend. The most notable opponent is Arkansas. In other words, this should be nine Sets. Will it? We'll see what happens.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). Lost a make-up game to the White Sox at Target Monday; split a two-game series against the ChiSox at Comiskey mid-week; then dropped three-of-four at home to Oakland, a team that, despite a really shitty home venue and one of the most meager bankrolls in baseball, still manage to overperform year in and year out. Maybe the Twinks could learn a thing or two from them.
They have two maximum road trips (ones versus three teams) left to go. The first one starts this week with a three-game series at Cleveland starting on Tuesday and three in Texas beginning on Friday.
#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: Positive Numbers). Inclement weather played havoc this weekend. Friday's match against Ole Miss, where Megan Gray deposited the game-ender in the 109th minute/Double Overtime, kicked off as scheduled, at 7:30. But there were thunderstorms forecast all day. The Gophers' match was supposed to be the back end of a doubleheader, but because of the potential lightning, the first match, between Iowa and Washington St., was moved up to 11 a.m., then moved down as the rain poured in. Finally, and for some reason, they cancelled the match -- which really sucked for the Hawkeyes, who had no other game to play in the Twin Cities and had to hightail it down to Iowa City for a game yesterday (Sunday) afternoon.
And then, due to storms which actually did not come at all, the match versus the Cougars was moved up Sunday from 1 p.m. to 11 a.m. I was going to go to that game immediate after watching the EPL at The Local, but I decided not to go after the time of the game changed. (I did plan on going to Friday's DH as well, but once I saw that the Hawks-Cougs match was moved up to the afternoon, there was no two-fer I would have wanted to go for, and so I went to the volleyball double-header in downtown Minneapolis ... where I would have gone for Saturday's matches instead of I took in the DH at Robbie Stadium on Friday. See, my life is ruled by if/then cases.) And I'm glad I missed it, because the Gophs suffered their first defeat of the year, and a convincing on at that: 2-0 to Washington St., which is ranked 22nd in at least one poll. So maybe the U. aren't so special after all.
They continued their homestand this weekend. They host DePaul Thursday; I should be going to that match-up. And Sunday afternoon nationally-ranked Stanford come to town. I would have gone to this game, but dammit, I already made plans at the State Fair.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -2). No Darwin Quintero, no chance as the Looons turned in a disinterested, somnambulistic 2-0 loss at Kansas City Saturday. (This weekend was coined Rivalry Week by Major League Soccer. What rivalry?) Don't tell me Christian Ramirez would have done worse. Don't tell me that at least they would have gotten more chances with Superman as Striker. Still can't fucking believe this trade.
The only saving grace to this lost season is that they are on break until September 12.
#-Infinity: Lynx (Re-Entry!). I admit that I have been a dick when it comes to foretelling the end of The Lynx Dynasty. I also admit that, in the past, I have been mostly wrong. I have been wrong since 2011 and 2012, when I first didn't believe the Jynx would win their first title, and once they did, didn't believe they would ever reach that success ever again.
But let me say this time, and with no joy in my heart, that his truly feels like The End Of An Era For The Minnesota Lynx.
Now, talking about this squad in these terms is unfair. It probably is a symptom of the "patriarchy" that rules this world. It manifests itself in many ways, including from me. For example, I don't know how the Jynx went from world champions to the seventh-best record in the WNBA and a one-and-done road loss to L.A. (the team the Lynx beat last year who apparently also has fallen on black days). I didn't go to one game this year and I don't think I saw more than, oh, five minutes of their season on TV. Yet I feel the need to talk about them. Looking at it from a different angle, I am about to go on and on about a club I didn't even watch this year, and I am only doing so because they were so bad this year. Did I wax rhapsodically about them when they won the whole shebang last year? No. I'm only talking about them when they lose. I admit that, too. Finally -- and this includes the whole culture and not just me -- whereby a lot of the media talked up the Lynx last year, and I don't see a whole lot of teeth-gnashing about the team, not even sports-talk-heavy "Cheryl Reeve should be fucking fired!!!" hot takes. They lost and they are forgotten, quickly. Such is the case with a women's team, I hate to admit.
With that being said, I'll voice my faults, as filtered through the patriarchy as they might be. I thought that the Jynx's 18-16 regular-season record was the worst by a defending WNBA champion in league history. But I just did some quirk research through Wikipedia and it turns out that that is not the case. In fact, they're not really close; three defending champs finished below .500 the following season. (The Phoenix Mercury did it twice, for some reason.) So at least they avoided that ignominy. But still the question remains: Why? Well, I still stand by that old chestnut that veteran teams (and despite a young bench the starting five is real, real old) can get very gold very quickly, and I think that's what happened here. Also, the Point Guard situation was in flux the whole year. Lindsay Whalen, in retrospect, could not handle being the starting PG for the Lynx as well as prepare for her new role as Head Coach of the University of Minnesota women's program. (I say retrospect even though everyone knew juggling both plates was impossible.) Reeve just never found a suitable replacement for Whalen, and that was the hole through which the water ultimately sank the Jynx ship. (I must also pause and say that I had been slagging on Whalen on the team for a long time. That her sharp decline in production was predicted by me gives me no solace, especially since I have been predicting her sharp decline in production for years now and was only lucky to be right in her last year playing as a pro.)
So, what now? It feels as though the band finally is breaking up. Maya Moore is still in her prime, Sylvia Fowles is still a prime force on the down-low and I would like to think Rebekkah Brunson is ageless. Does Seimone Augustus think it's time to finally hang it up? Meanwhile, is the franchise's worst season this decade a one-time blip, and they'll continue to accumulate 'ships in odd years? Or is this ... The End Of An Era? Who knows, but whatever happens, these players are back on The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey until they lift a trophy.
Sure, they won both games. But for some odd goddamn reason, after the U. was cruising in Set 3, Florida St. started to come back. The 'Noles scored three in a row to know up the game at 18 before the squad finally put them away at 21. And they actually dropped a set to the Tar Heels. Albeit that Set 3 was won 30-28, Carolina only lost Set 2 26-24 and Set 4 25-23. Championship clubs beat down their opponents, no matter what. It would have been a fairy tale to see the U. finally win the big one for the first time in their hometown. But it ain't gonna happen, no sirree.
They go back to the Sports ... er, Maturi Pavilion for the Diet Coke Classic next weekend. The most notable opponent is Arkansas. In other words, this should be nine Sets. Will it? We'll see what happens.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). Lost a make-up game to the White Sox at Target Monday; split a two-game series against the ChiSox at Comiskey mid-week; then dropped three-of-four at home to Oakland, a team that, despite a really shitty home venue and one of the most meager bankrolls in baseball, still manage to overperform year in and year out. Maybe the Twinks could learn a thing or two from them.
They have two maximum road trips (ones versus three teams) left to go. The first one starts this week with a three-game series at Cleveland starting on Tuesday and three in Texas beginning on Friday.
#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: Positive Numbers). Inclement weather played havoc this weekend. Friday's match against Ole Miss, where Megan Gray deposited the game-ender in the 109th minute/Double Overtime, kicked off as scheduled, at 7:30. But there were thunderstorms forecast all day. The Gophers' match was supposed to be the back end of a doubleheader, but because of the potential lightning, the first match, between Iowa and Washington St., was moved up to 11 a.m., then moved down as the rain poured in. Finally, and for some reason, they cancelled the match -- which really sucked for the Hawkeyes, who had no other game to play in the Twin Cities and had to hightail it down to Iowa City for a game yesterday (Sunday) afternoon.
And then, due to storms which actually did not come at all, the match versus the Cougars was moved up Sunday from 1 p.m. to 11 a.m. I was going to go to that game immediate after watching the EPL at The Local, but I decided not to go after the time of the game changed. (I did plan on going to Friday's DH as well, but once I saw that the Hawks-Cougs match was moved up to the afternoon, there was no two-fer I would have wanted to go for, and so I went to the volleyball double-header in downtown Minneapolis ... where I would have gone for Saturday's matches instead of I took in the DH at Robbie Stadium on Friday. See, my life is ruled by if/then cases.) And I'm glad I missed it, because the Gophs suffered their first defeat of the year, and a convincing on at that: 2-0 to Washington St., which is ranked 22nd in at least one poll. So maybe the U. aren't so special after all.
They continued their homestand this weekend. They host DePaul Thursday; I should be going to that match-up. And Sunday afternoon nationally-ranked Stanford come to town. I would have gone to this game, but dammit, I already made plans at the State Fair.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -2). No Darwin Quintero, no chance as the Looons turned in a disinterested, somnambulistic 2-0 loss at Kansas City Saturday. (This weekend was coined Rivalry Week by Major League Soccer. What rivalry?) Don't tell me Christian Ramirez would have done worse. Don't tell me that at least they would have gotten more chances with Superman as Striker. Still can't fucking believe this trade.
The only saving grace to this lost season is that they are on break until September 12.
#-Infinity: Lynx (Re-Entry!). I admit that I have been a dick when it comes to foretelling the end of The Lynx Dynasty. I also admit that, in the past, I have been mostly wrong. I have been wrong since 2011 and 2012, when I first didn't believe the Jynx would win their first title, and once they did, didn't believe they would ever reach that success ever again.
But let me say this time, and with no joy in my heart, that his truly feels like The End Of An Era For The Minnesota Lynx.
Now, talking about this squad in these terms is unfair. It probably is a symptom of the "patriarchy" that rules this world. It manifests itself in many ways, including from me. For example, I don't know how the Jynx went from world champions to the seventh-best record in the WNBA and a one-and-done road loss to L.A. (the team the Lynx beat last year who apparently also has fallen on black days). I didn't go to one game this year and I don't think I saw more than, oh, five minutes of their season on TV. Yet I feel the need to talk about them. Looking at it from a different angle, I am about to go on and on about a club I didn't even watch this year, and I am only doing so because they were so bad this year. Did I wax rhapsodically about them when they won the whole shebang last year? No. I'm only talking about them when they lose. I admit that, too. Finally -- and this includes the whole culture and not just me -- whereby a lot of the media talked up the Lynx last year, and I don't see a whole lot of teeth-gnashing about the team, not even sports-talk-heavy "Cheryl Reeve should be fucking fired!!!" hot takes. They lost and they are forgotten, quickly. Such is the case with a women's team, I hate to admit.
With that being said, I'll voice my faults, as filtered through the patriarchy as they might be. I thought that the Jynx's 18-16 regular-season record was the worst by a defending WNBA champion in league history. But I just did some quirk research through Wikipedia and it turns out that that is not the case. In fact, they're not really close; three defending champs finished below .500 the following season. (The Phoenix Mercury did it twice, for some reason.) So at least they avoided that ignominy. But still the question remains: Why? Well, I still stand by that old chestnut that veteran teams (and despite a young bench the starting five is real, real old) can get very gold very quickly, and I think that's what happened here. Also, the Point Guard situation was in flux the whole year. Lindsay Whalen, in retrospect, could not handle being the starting PG for the Lynx as well as prepare for her new role as Head Coach of the University of Minnesota women's program. (I say retrospect even though everyone knew juggling both plates was impossible.) Reeve just never found a suitable replacement for Whalen, and that was the hole through which the water ultimately sank the Jynx ship. (I must also pause and say that I had been slagging on Whalen on the team for a long time. That her sharp decline in production was predicted by me gives me no solace, especially since I have been predicting her sharp decline in production for years now and was only lucky to be right in her last year playing as a pro.)
So, what now? It feels as though the band finally is breaking up. Maya Moore is still in her prime, Sylvia Fowles is still a prime force on the down-low and I would like to think Rebekkah Brunson is ageless. Does Seimone Augustus think it's time to finally hang it up? Meanwhile, is the franchise's worst season this decade a one-time blip, and they'll continue to accumulate 'ships in odd years? Or is this ... The End Of An Era? Who knows, but whatever happens, these players are back on The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey until they lift a trophy.
Sunday, August 26, 2018
The Carcass Of Herberger's
Today is the last day in the life of Herberger's. Didn't think it was, but it is.
I last checked into Herberger's last weekend, after I had stopped by the week before and made a mental list of things I wanted and needed. But even after spending all that much time browsing I decided to hold off and wait to see if I could get a better deal. I mean, there was a suitcoat that cost $425. Even at 70% off, I still would have paid around $127.50 -- extraordinary bargain for a coat of that price, but I still couldn't afford it. And since I hadn't seen prices dip when going into Herberger's before, I thought I had time to time out the bargains, and then swoop in when Herberger's finally throws in the towel and discounts everything, like 90% off. Then I would get that suit, and that shirt, and that Sinatra-style hat, and that ...
Herberger's had a countdown. As of last weekend there were 12 days left. So I had time.
No, I didn't.
After work yesterday/Saturday I went to Herberger's to see if my risk of not buying anything the weekend before backfired on me. And the answer is, Hell yes, it backfired on me! The money-conscious, price-pinching vultures that are people picked through all the good items on sale. There were still things on sale, but it was shit I didn't need. All the clothing there were ill-fitting ones, for men of grotesque proportions; I think I found pants that were 50x32 and 29x40. And what would I need pillows for?
Meanwhile, all the things I would have bought were long gone. The suitcoats I zoomed in on as both fitting and fashionable were nowhere to be found. (There were two suitcoats left, and both of them were too big for me.) The Sinatra-styled hats disappeared too; the only ones that even looked that stylish were brown, and they were all too big for my head. So I gambled that I would be able to come back this weekend and get the things I wanted for a slightly lower price than the weekend prior, and I lost. I wanted to buy something, anything, at Herberger's, only to commemorate its death in a rapidly deteriorating shopping industry (and, if I may say, shopping mall -- I should blog post about this soon). I had the wherewithal to buy pants about a month ago in case a situation like this happened; it looks like those are the only items/mementos I will buy there. I could swing back by today/Sunday, but there's nothing for me there to buy, and besides, I think it's going to feel really weird and sad to shop there.
I guess last workweek, one where my calendar was full of hermetically sealing myself (Monday), taking in two movies (Tuesday), seeing Da Beauty League championship game (Wednesday), attending the first day of the State Fair (Thursday) and watching college volleyball matches downtown (Friday), was the one where the cash-strapped common people decided it was time to buy. Yes, I ran the risk and I knew it. But let me state for the record that I was screwed in a way. You see, Herberger's put up a sign counting down the days until they would close up shop for good. When I walked out the door last Sunday, they were at 12 days. And I swear, when I walked back in yesterday/Saturday), it was down to 3 days. How in the fuck do nine days come off in a matter of a week?! Unless this is new math, 12-6 does not equal 3. I think that if Herberger's stuck to its original closing date, whereby they would die on the 31st of August instead of (I think) Monday, the suitcoats and pants I had my eye on would still be there, and then I would decide it was time to whip out the credit card and take them. But they moved up their death date, and my prized wish list items were spirited away.
And all that's left are weird clothing and the weird people who are about to suck all the marrow out of a virtually dead clothing store by buying that weird clothing at 80% off.
Oh, and by the way: RIP, Herberger's.
I last checked into Herberger's last weekend, after I had stopped by the week before and made a mental list of things I wanted and needed. But even after spending all that much time browsing I decided to hold off and wait to see if I could get a better deal. I mean, there was a suitcoat that cost $425. Even at 70% off, I still would have paid around $127.50 -- extraordinary bargain for a coat of that price, but I still couldn't afford it. And since I hadn't seen prices dip when going into Herberger's before, I thought I had time to time out the bargains, and then swoop in when Herberger's finally throws in the towel and discounts everything, like 90% off. Then I would get that suit, and that shirt, and that Sinatra-style hat, and that ...
Herberger's had a countdown. As of last weekend there were 12 days left. So I had time.
No, I didn't.
After work yesterday/Saturday I went to Herberger's to see if my risk of not buying anything the weekend before backfired on me. And the answer is, Hell yes, it backfired on me! The money-conscious, price-pinching vultures that are people picked through all the good items on sale. There were still things on sale, but it was shit I didn't need. All the clothing there were ill-fitting ones, for men of grotesque proportions; I think I found pants that were 50x32 and 29x40. And what would I need pillows for?
Meanwhile, all the things I would have bought were long gone. The suitcoats I zoomed in on as both fitting and fashionable were nowhere to be found. (There were two suitcoats left, and both of them were too big for me.) The Sinatra-styled hats disappeared too; the only ones that even looked that stylish were brown, and they were all too big for my head. So I gambled that I would be able to come back this weekend and get the things I wanted for a slightly lower price than the weekend prior, and I lost. I wanted to buy something, anything, at Herberger's, only to commemorate its death in a rapidly deteriorating shopping industry (and, if I may say, shopping mall -- I should blog post about this soon). I had the wherewithal to buy pants about a month ago in case a situation like this happened; it looks like those are the only items/mementos I will buy there. I could swing back by today/Sunday, but there's nothing for me there to buy, and besides, I think it's going to feel really weird and sad to shop there.
I guess last workweek, one where my calendar was full of hermetically sealing myself (Monday), taking in two movies (Tuesday), seeing Da Beauty League championship game (Wednesday), attending the first day of the State Fair (Thursday) and watching college volleyball matches downtown (Friday), was the one where the cash-strapped common people decided it was time to buy. Yes, I ran the risk and I knew it. But let me state for the record that I was screwed in a way. You see, Herberger's put up a sign counting down the days until they would close up shop for good. When I walked out the door last Sunday, they were at 12 days. And I swear, when I walked back in yesterday/Saturday), it was down to 3 days. How in the fuck do nine days come off in a matter of a week?! Unless this is new math, 12-6 does not equal 3. I think that if Herberger's stuck to its original closing date, whereby they would die on the 31st of August instead of (I think) Monday, the suitcoats and pants I had my eye on would still be there, and then I would decide it was time to whip out the credit card and take them. But they moved up their death date, and my prized wish list items were spirited away.
And all that's left are weird clothing and the weird people who are about to suck all the marrow out of a virtually dead clothing store by buying that weird clothing at 80% off.
Oh, and by the way: RIP, Herberger's.
Saturday, August 25, 2018
I Have How Much In My Checking Account?!?!?!
Whenever I go on a spending binge, I avoid looking at the balance of my checking account because I'm scared of how much I've actually spent and how much I actually have left. In other words, I nearly always avoid checking my checking account.
But I usually come around to it whenever I sense that I'm getting really, really low. Such was the case during my two-week "furlough" inbetween jobs last month. I don't know how it happened -- that's always my excuse -- but it felt as though I had spent an inordinate amount of money over the summer, and so my unemployment, just around the time my credit card bill was due, came at an extremely inopportune time. And sure enough, when I looked, I saw that I was hovering just above two grand -- my self-imposed Mendoza line between solvency and ... well, I don't know how my left would change if I fell below that.
Well, it's gotten worse. My only significant change to seeing my bankroll that low is to charge everything until I started getting paychecks at my new job. But that hasn't stopped my spending. And something else bad has creeped up on me: I have realized that being paid bi-weekly, instead of weekly as I always have been at my temp jobs (and why is that?) really, really sucks. Twice the money is nice, but not if I have to wait every other week to get them. The wait is interminable, and I believe that at least for this cycle and possibly for the next, my paycheck won't come in time for me to use it to pay my credit card bill.
So the reckoning has come. Some time this past week I checked my checking account and I am below two grand. On top of that, I actually did some shuffling around with my money. I actually took $500 out of my PayPal and put it back into my personal account in order to fatten it up and, frankly, to make myself feel better. Confession: I don't know if all the money I took out of my PayPal is technically mine.
It really didn't matter. I am below my Mendoza line after I stuffed it with my PayPal money. Which means that however fallow my account is right now, it actually is $500 dollars worse. In other words, I have -- gulp ... close to a grand to my name. Really, it's just a thousand bucks.
I don't know where the money went. And I have to be honest with myself: If I really cared, I'd stop spending money. But hey, my parents are away, the State Fair is here, and I need to get a blowjob from someone I haven't seen in months, so I ain't stoppin'.
The only thing I can promise myself is to pay my bills. Whenever my paycheck comes, I know it'll immediately go back out to pay my credit card bills. After that I need to replenish (somewhat) my PayPal account, then if there's money left over, I might give some to the alumni club. And that means I will be ... back to where I am, money-wise.
Good bleepin' Lord, where did all my money go?!
But I usually come around to it whenever I sense that I'm getting really, really low. Such was the case during my two-week "furlough" inbetween jobs last month. I don't know how it happened -- that's always my excuse -- but it felt as though I had spent an inordinate amount of money over the summer, and so my unemployment, just around the time my credit card bill was due, came at an extremely inopportune time. And sure enough, when I looked, I saw that I was hovering just above two grand -- my self-imposed Mendoza line between solvency and ... well, I don't know how my left would change if I fell below that.
Well, it's gotten worse. My only significant change to seeing my bankroll that low is to charge everything until I started getting paychecks at my new job. But that hasn't stopped my spending. And something else bad has creeped up on me: I have realized that being paid bi-weekly, instead of weekly as I always have been at my temp jobs (and why is that?) really, really sucks. Twice the money is nice, but not if I have to wait every other week to get them. The wait is interminable, and I believe that at least for this cycle and possibly for the next, my paycheck won't come in time for me to use it to pay my credit card bill.
So the reckoning has come. Some time this past week I checked my checking account and I am below two grand. On top of that, I actually did some shuffling around with my money. I actually took $500 out of my PayPal and put it back into my personal account in order to fatten it up and, frankly, to make myself feel better. Confession: I don't know if all the money I took out of my PayPal is technically mine.
It really didn't matter. I am below my Mendoza line after I stuffed it with my PayPal money. Which means that however fallow my account is right now, it actually is $500 dollars worse. In other words, I have -- gulp ... close to a grand to my name. Really, it's just a thousand bucks.
I don't know where the money went. And I have to be honest with myself: If I really cared, I'd stop spending money. But hey, my parents are away, the State Fair is here, and I need to get a blowjob from someone I haven't seen in months, so I ain't stoppin'.
The only thing I can promise myself is to pay my bills. Whenever my paycheck comes, I know it'll immediately go back out to pay my credit card bills. After that I need to replenish (somewhat) my PayPal account, then if there's money left over, I might give some to the alumni club. And that means I will be ... back to where I am, money-wise.
Good bleepin' Lord, where did all my money go?!
Friday, August 24, 2018
Addendum To: Tirangry (Scheduled Post)
Went to the State Fair at its opener last night. And even though it was beautiful -- the babe talent was on-point! -- I just got ... tired and angry after a while. I got tirangry again, and it consumed me so much that for a while there I kind of forgot where I was going.
I went to the fair after stopping off at the post office to deliver a package to my folks. They wanted me to send this package, and they insisted I use USPS instead of FedEx or UPS. I realized that even though this was a relative mild argument, them disagreeing with me has been a main characteristic of my relationship with them. I then realized that much of the time, I feel worse about myself after I talk to them. Seems obvious now, but I hadn't been able to put it into such elegant terms until now.
Anyway, I did a lot of walking and a lot of thinking and soon I just spaced out. The beer, a great Black Currant-flavored cider from Sociable, got me fatigued real quick, but I still had a fair to walk through and food I wanted to eat. And then these thoughts came back to me ... of my family letting me down ... of getting cold-cocked in the face ... of people apologizing to me for screwing me over and me lashing out at them as revenge ... of me hitting somebody, and actually connecting, and actually hurting them. I was consumed by all those thoughts in the, oh, back half of the Fair, even though I had a great time, or at least I thought I did.
You know, maybe sleep is what I need. Should end this blog post now.
I went to the fair after stopping off at the post office to deliver a package to my folks. They wanted me to send this package, and they insisted I use USPS instead of FedEx or UPS. I realized that even though this was a relative mild argument, them disagreeing with me has been a main characteristic of my relationship with them. I then realized that much of the time, I feel worse about myself after I talk to them. Seems obvious now, but I hadn't been able to put it into such elegant terms until now.
Anyway, I did a lot of walking and a lot of thinking and soon I just spaced out. The beer, a great Black Currant-flavored cider from Sociable, got me fatigued real quick, but I still had a fair to walk through and food I wanted to eat. And then these thoughts came back to me ... of my family letting me down ... of getting cold-cocked in the face ... of people apologizing to me for screwing me over and me lashing out at them as revenge ... of me hitting somebody, and actually connecting, and actually hurting them. I was consumed by all those thoughts in the, oh, back half of the Fair, even though I had a great time, or at least I thought I did.
You know, maybe sleep is what I need. Should end this blog post now.
Thursday, August 23, 2018
This Benefits Sign-Up Is Really Hard!
I have a week to go to enroll, and I thought tonight would be the night that I would finally grow up, be a man, and do it. But I've just tried to go through it all and it's intimidating as hell.
I knew of one question I couldn't fully answer: What type of health insurance should I get? But as I went through enrollment online I had other ones that I didn't even think of but should have. Questions like:
But right now I have six days, so maybe I'll hang tight.
I knew of one question I couldn't fully answer: What type of health insurance should I get? But as I went through enrollment online I had other ones that I didn't even think of but should have. Questions like:
- What dental plan should I get?
- Should I get a vision plan?
- How about life insurance? Damned if I know!
- Do I want to buy into legal assistance? Legal assistance?!
But right now I have six days, so maybe I'll hang tight.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
The First False Note At Work
I didn't need to hear what my supervisor said at the end of work yesterday. In fact, it's fair to say he blindsided me. First time at this job; guess that means the honeymoon is over.
We're finishing up. I'm noticing these days that we finish up our work before my eight hours, and so I need to find something to do. There is a task that the other full-timers are doing, but I haven't been trained on that, and I still haven't. (If not getting trained on this task continues and/or worsens into a big problem, I'll blog about it here later.)
Instead, there is a training module I need to get through, so I figure that I can while away the minutes doing that. I put my headphones on to listen to the module when I hear my supervisor calling out my name. He's telling me I can leave early. He's said that on several occasions since I started work, but since I'm working hourly, leaving early means that I don't get paid, so fuck that, I'm doing training. And this motherfucker thinks I don't get it, so he says, "Man, we're trying to tell you that I don't want you here!"
Excuse me, asshole?!
See, this is where the angry part of me (or, in other words, I) would lash out at him. But I knew he was joking. Or is he? Man, I can't tell. Anyway, that fucking rubs me the wrong way. I don't give a shit if he says it in jest; I don't want to be told I'm not wanted. And I sure as hell won't leave early and give up money I need for hours I was promised I would work.
I told him I was doing training, so he left me alone and I got to stay until I was supposed to leave. But man, just ... goddamn, I hate that he said that. It really fuckin' bothers me. And now I wonder if there is more passive-aggressive bullshit that will emanate from his mouth in the weeks to come.
We're finishing up. I'm noticing these days that we finish up our work before my eight hours, and so I need to find something to do. There is a task that the other full-timers are doing, but I haven't been trained on that, and I still haven't. (If not getting trained on this task continues and/or worsens into a big problem, I'll blog about it here later.)
Instead, there is a training module I need to get through, so I figure that I can while away the minutes doing that. I put my headphones on to listen to the module when I hear my supervisor calling out my name. He's telling me I can leave early. He's said that on several occasions since I started work, but since I'm working hourly, leaving early means that I don't get paid, so fuck that, I'm doing training. And this motherfucker thinks I don't get it, so he says, "Man, we're trying to tell you that I don't want you here!"
Excuse me, asshole?!
See, this is where the angry part of me (or, in other words, I) would lash out at him. But I knew he was joking. Or is he? Man, I can't tell. Anyway, that fucking rubs me the wrong way. I don't give a shit if he says it in jest; I don't want to be told I'm not wanted. And I sure as hell won't leave early and give up money I need for hours I was promised I would work.
I told him I was doing training, so he left me alone and I got to stay until I was supposed to leave. But man, just ... goddamn, I hate that he said that. It really fuckin' bothers me. And now I wonder if there is more passive-aggressive bullshit that will emanate from his mouth in the weeks to come.
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Yesterday's Milestones
Yesterday, Monday, I showered for the first time since last Tuesday, so ... six days.
Also, I had set out not to set one foot outside yesterday/Monday, not even to get the mail. Mission accomplished. It feels good not to spend one dollar, or add one mile to my car. I'll get yesterday's mail on my way out to work in a bit.
Just for the record.
Also, I had set out not to set one foot outside yesterday/Monday, not even to get the mail. Mission accomplished. It feels good not to spend one dollar, or add one mile to my car. I'll get yesterday's mail on my way out to work in a bit.
Just for the record.
Monday, August 20, 2018
Addendum To: Side Cramps
They are continuing. In fact, they are more pronounced today. Stabbing pain in my right kidney.
Just an FYI.
Just an FYI.
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Positive Numbers: Gopher soccer (Re-Entry!). As a side that missed the NCAA Tournament last year and is slated to finish sixth in the Big Ten this year, they need to bone up on their non-conference schedule to buttress any chance of getting into the postseason this year. And through the first weekend of the women's college soccer (and college sports) year, they have started off well. On Friday, Freshman Patricia Ward (with Assists from Makenzie Langdok and stalwart April Bockin), scored the only Goal in their win over Utah in Salt Lake City in the 90th Minute. (Technically, at least according to the box score on the Gophers sports' website, Ward scored with 11 seconds to go in regulation. I like that American college soccer marks time down to the second. It's way more precise than regular soccer convention.) Then yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, Maddie Castro (in the 69th) and McKenna Buisman (77') scored to bring Minnesota back from a Halftime deficit and defeat Utah St. in Logan, Utah, 2-1.
Maybe these players can make some noise? They certainly will be able to do that on an advantage, for they begin an eight-match homestand with weekend tilts versus Ole Miss Friday and Washington St. Sunday, both of which are a part of a quasi-tournament, only quasi- because Iowa will play the Cougars Friday afternoon but won't play the Rebels Sunday. The Hawkeyes will go home to Iowa City and play Indiana St. Sunday instead. Weird.
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2). Holy crap -- the Twins won five-of-six this screening week! I was there Thursday for probably their most convincing victory of the week, where they clubbed the Detroit Tigers to the tune of 15-8. The Starting Pitchers are notable in that game. Guess who started for the Tigs -- Francisco Liriano! And the former Twin didn't even get through the Second Inning! (Tigers Manager Ron Gardenhire burned through seven Pitchers in the game!) Meanwhile, Twins starter Ervin Santana didn't fare much better. He was pulled in the Fifth after loading the bases. He didn't last long enough to automatically get credit for the win. Trevor May, who replaced Santana, started off extremely shaky, allowing two Runs with Walks, but he got out of the inning with the lead (even though it shrank from three to one). Minnesota plated seven Runs off two Tigers Pitchers in the Bottom of the Sixth; May was replaced by Addison Reed in the subsequent half-Inning, and even though he pitched in two fewer Innings than Santana, May was given the win, his first of the season, instead of Santana.
The only blemish this week was a comeback that came up short in Saturday's 7-5 loss to Detroit. Still, the series win over the Tigers, plus a two-game sweep of the Pittsburgh Pirates mid-week, is impressive. And if the Twins had any chance of making the postseason, I and everyone else would care a whole lot more!
This week: They start off playing a three-game series against the White Sox, but this series is weird. Tonight's (Monday night's) game is at Target Field, the last of a seven-game homestand, as a make-up for the snowed-out contest on Tax Day. The two teams will then fly to the South Side to play a pair Tuesday and Wednesday at Comiskey. The Twinks will then fly back here for a four-game set vs. an organization the Twins would do well to emulate, the Oakland Athletics, who, despite a chronically small payroll and a really shithole of a stadium, not only regularly compete but are now battling the Houston Astros for first place in the American League Western Division.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -1). No Francisco Calvo (double yellow suspension), no Collen Warner (Yellow Card accumulation suspension), no Darwin Quintero (???) ... but lots of rain Saturday for the Loons' match against the Dallas Burn. In fact, the storm coming through the Metroplex was so bad that the game was delayed for 154 minutes.
They might as well have called the game off. They didn't, but once they did, MNUFC wished they would have. These boys were shit, and FC Dallas convincingly beat them 2-0, the first Goal of which was started off when a deflection off Michael Boxall's head neutralized an offside call.
Meanwhile, on Wednesday with LAFC, Christian Ramirez did this:
But we didn't need him.
This shit is never not going to be funny.
The Roadtrip Where They Pound Nails Into Their Own Coffins continues Saturday when they visit the Kansas City Wiz(ards).
Maybe these players can make some noise? They certainly will be able to do that on an advantage, for they begin an eight-match homestand with weekend tilts versus Ole Miss Friday and Washington St. Sunday, both of which are a part of a quasi-tournament, only quasi- because Iowa will play the Cougars Friday afternoon but won't play the Rebels Sunday. The Hawkeyes will go home to Iowa City and play Indiana St. Sunday instead. Weird.
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2). Holy crap -- the Twins won five-of-six this screening week! I was there Thursday for probably their most convincing victory of the week, where they clubbed the Detroit Tigers to the tune of 15-8. The Starting Pitchers are notable in that game. Guess who started for the Tigs -- Francisco Liriano! And the former Twin didn't even get through the Second Inning! (Tigers Manager Ron Gardenhire burned through seven Pitchers in the game!) Meanwhile, Twins starter Ervin Santana didn't fare much better. He was pulled in the Fifth after loading the bases. He didn't last long enough to automatically get credit for the win. Trevor May, who replaced Santana, started off extremely shaky, allowing two Runs with Walks, but he got out of the inning with the lead (even though it shrank from three to one). Minnesota plated seven Runs off two Tigers Pitchers in the Bottom of the Sixth; May was replaced by Addison Reed in the subsequent half-Inning, and even though he pitched in two fewer Innings than Santana, May was given the win, his first of the season, instead of Santana.
The only blemish this week was a comeback that came up short in Saturday's 7-5 loss to Detroit. Still, the series win over the Tigers, plus a two-game sweep of the Pittsburgh Pirates mid-week, is impressive. And if the Twins had any chance of making the postseason, I and everyone else would care a whole lot more!
This week: They start off playing a three-game series against the White Sox, but this series is weird. Tonight's (Monday night's) game is at Target Field, the last of a seven-game homestand, as a make-up for the snowed-out contest on Tax Day. The two teams will then fly to the South Side to play a pair Tuesday and Wednesday at Comiskey. The Twinks will then fly back here for a four-game set vs. an organization the Twins would do well to emulate, the Oakland Athletics, who, despite a chronically small payroll and a really shithole of a stadium, not only regularly compete but are now battling the Houston Astros for first place in the American League Western Division.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -1). No Francisco Calvo (double yellow suspension), no Collen Warner (Yellow Card accumulation suspension), no Darwin Quintero (???) ... but lots of rain Saturday for the Loons' match against the Dallas Burn. In fact, the storm coming through the Metroplex was so bad that the game was delayed for 154 minutes.
They might as well have called the game off. They didn't, but once they did, MNUFC wished they would have. These boys were shit, and FC Dallas convincingly beat them 2-0, the first Goal of which was started off when a deflection off Michael Boxall's head neutralized an offside call.
Meanwhile, on Wednesday with LAFC, Christian Ramirez did this:
But we didn't need him.
This shit is never not going to be funny.
The Roadtrip Where They Pound Nails Into Their Own Coffins continues Saturday when they visit the Kansas City Wiz(ards).
Sunday, August 19, 2018
Yep, I Forgot (Scheduled Post)
I forgot to call in in time. Yeah, I though it would happen. Had passing thoughts of doing things to make sure it didn't happen, like putting in a reminder on my phone (something I have never done before) or setting an alarm. But those were indeed just passing thoughts.
You want excuses for why I didn't call in when I said I would? Oh, I can give you excuses! Never in my years of running for crews have I been this busy running virtually from the get-go. An hour into my workday -- which started at 6, by the way, and this is after waking up at 2 and failing to fall back asleep -- I was sent back up a second time to wait for crew members to come and get their credentials and parking passes. These are people, great people, who were scheduled to come in at 9 or 10 in the morning but instead wanted to come in earlier ... like 7:30. Also, I was totally flummoxed because this idiot told me to get out of the security line and walk all the way around the corner to a different gate -- even though I had already passed through the metal detector. Other members of the crew were following me through the gate and she stopped them, to which I told her, "But you let me through!" while holding my credential, which was around my neck. And I swear to God this dumbass, in her Nerdlinger voice, pulls down her glasses and goes, "Yeah, sorry, you have to go out and go around too." What a lazy fucking moron.
And finally I was sent out to get water. Going out to Target I saw 35WS closed. I didn't think that party of 35W would be closed, so I had to get on my phone and turn on my 3G to access Google Maps and Waze to figure out how to get back to the stadium at the time the guy I was working for wanted me to come back. It was in this alternate route where I looked at the time on the dashboard. I thought, "Hmmm, 8:20. I imagine the guys are just starting work ... HOLY SHIT, I FORGOT TO CALL MY BOSS!!! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!"
I had to pull off to the nearest gas station to call her up. I apologized profusely for not calling sooner. Now I need to know how bad my mistake was. I was told to call in before my shift, which on Saturdays begin at 8. I have been led to believe that there is a difference between calling in sick before work and calling in sick during a shift. Like I said in my previous blog post, I am already in trouble for not showing up for a day I did not get approval for missing. The question now becomes whether I am in even deeper shit for not calling before my day starts. My boss said that she knew that I was working this day, and that this was arranged before I even applied for this job. But I have no idea if this even matters. This is already considered an "unexcused" absence; have I made it worse by not calling in time, like I promised I would?
Dammit, I'm already dreading Tuesday.
You want excuses for why I didn't call in when I said I would? Oh, I can give you excuses! Never in my years of running for crews have I been this busy running virtually from the get-go. An hour into my workday -- which started at 6, by the way, and this is after waking up at 2 and failing to fall back asleep -- I was sent back up a second time to wait for crew members to come and get their credentials and parking passes. These are people, great people, who were scheduled to come in at 9 or 10 in the morning but instead wanted to come in earlier ... like 7:30. Also, I was totally flummoxed because this idiot told me to get out of the security line and walk all the way around the corner to a different gate -- even though I had already passed through the metal detector. Other members of the crew were following me through the gate and she stopped them, to which I told her, "But you let me through!" while holding my credential, which was around my neck. And I swear to God this dumbass, in her Nerdlinger voice, pulls down her glasses and goes, "Yeah, sorry, you have to go out and go around too." What a lazy fucking moron.
And finally I was sent out to get water. Going out to Target I saw 35WS closed. I didn't think that party of 35W would be closed, so I had to get on my phone and turn on my 3G to access Google Maps and Waze to figure out how to get back to the stadium at the time the guy I was working for wanted me to come back. It was in this alternate route where I looked at the time on the dashboard. I thought, "Hmmm, 8:20. I imagine the guys are just starting work ... HOLY SHIT, I FORGOT TO CALL MY BOSS!!! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!"
I had to pull off to the nearest gas station to call her up. I apologized profusely for not calling sooner. Now I need to know how bad my mistake was. I was told to call in before my shift, which on Saturdays begin at 8. I have been led to believe that there is a difference between calling in sick before work and calling in sick during a shift. Like I said in my previous blog post, I am already in trouble for not showing up for a day I did not get approval for missing. The question now becomes whether I am in even deeper shit for not calling before my day starts. My boss said that she knew that I was working this day, and that this was arranged before I even applied for this job. But I have no idea if this even matters. This is already considered an "unexcused" absence; have I made it worse by not calling in time, like I promised I would?
Dammit, I'm already dreading Tuesday.
Saturday, August 18, 2018
The Rigmarole
I am working this morning (actually in a few hours) for the Vikings game, even though I should be putting in my shift at my new job. I told my boss about this when he interviewed me over the phone, and he was OK with this.
Here's how the process was explained to me, however. This company has a set number of hours, or Paid Time Off (PTO, but most of you know that). This company is extremely generous with their PTO. In fact, even though I just started, I'm already using it for this weekend. However, as this is shift work, there are production goals to be met, and therefore a standard number of people who should be there.
As far as I can tell, they are OK if there are more people who beg for a day off. It's not like it's going to force everyone who does show up into an extra, like, four hours of overtime in order to get everything done in time. But they have only so many people they can approve PTO for each day. I was approved yesterday/Friday, but not today/Saturday because people have already been given permission to take the day off.
I told my boss this, and they're still OK with me taking today off. I just have to do one thing: I have to call just before my shift begins and tell my other boss that I'm calling in sick. That's all. I have to call in sick.
This raises a few questions. The first one is, do I call in sick, or do I ... "call in sick?" I have not told my other boss that I need to take today off for my other job. But both of my bosses share the same office, so I can't help but believe he has already told her. But has he? If so, do I have to fake it?
And that brings me to my second, and more important, question. If my boss knows about me missing Saturday, why do I have to call in this morning to say so? Don't they already know I have an unapproved absence coming up? Do I have to go through the ... rigmarole (I thought it was spelled "rigAmarole") of calling in if she already knows I'm not coming in? I asked my supervisor this on Thursday and he said, while shaking his head, that I had to.
Alright. Guess I have to. Feels unnecessary, but this is ultimately a point of bureaucracy I'll deal with. Now I just have to remember to bleeping do it. Because if not, I'll get into a heap of trouble.
Friday, August 17, 2018
Oh, This Is Gonna Go Swimmingly ...
So I'm working the Vikings game this weekend. For the first time ever, I'm working a preseason game. It'll be for the broadcast of the visiting Jaguars, so even though a lot of my tasks will be familiar, the people I'll be working for will not.
Because of that, I'm coming into this with my eyes open and my guard up. I don't know how things are going to work this weekend. And because of that, I want to iron out as many wrinkles as possible and soon as possible. And one of the very first things I need to settle is how I am going to get my pass -- the one thing that will allow me to go anywhere I need to go inside the stadium for the game. I cannot step foot inside the stadium without one. But how do I get it?
I have e-mailed the point person, the guy who got me this job, and he told me to sit tight. Well, I'm still sitting tight, because I haven't heard from him. So how the hell can I start my job tomorrow if I don't even know who to ask for my pass?
The only saving grace is that there are a lot of people coming in tomorrow at the same time as I. A few of them I think I might even remember, either from crewing Vikings regular season games or the Super Bowl earlier this year. We'll all be in the same boat, wondering just how in the hell are we supposed to do our jobs. Wish us luck.
Because of that, I'm coming into this with my eyes open and my guard up. I don't know how things are going to work this weekend. And because of that, I want to iron out as many wrinkles as possible and soon as possible. And one of the very first things I need to settle is how I am going to get my pass -- the one thing that will allow me to go anywhere I need to go inside the stadium for the game. I cannot step foot inside the stadium without one. But how do I get it?
I have e-mailed the point person, the guy who got me this job, and he told me to sit tight. Well, I'm still sitting tight, because I haven't heard from him. So how the hell can I start my job tomorrow if I don't even know who to ask for my pass?
The only saving grace is that there are a lot of people coming in tomorrow at the same time as I. A few of them I think I might even remember, either from crewing Vikings regular season games or the Super Bowl earlier this year. We'll all be in the same boat, wondering just how in the hell are we supposed to do our jobs. Wish us luck.
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Did She Honk At Me?
So I was getting out of the house and trying to work my way home. The parking lot leads right out to a stoplight and the on-ramps. But this, uh, inlet is really narrow. There is enough space where, if you're leaving, you have two lanes, one to go straight or left, the other to go right.
I need to take a left in order to get home, so I tried to nose as close to the center of this inlet as I could without blocking any cars that want to come in. And while I was moseying on over, I heard a honk behind me. There was a car that veered around me and onto the other lane because it wanted to take a right. I didn't move because I thought I had moved over enough.
Curious, I looked over to see if I could see the driver before she or he drove off. And I could ... and by God, I swear it looked like one of my co-workers -- specifically, one of the two co-workers who helped me a lot in my training yesterday as I was going neck-deep into this new task I am supposed to learn how to do. In fact, she was very proactive in helping me, pointing out things I didn't know and telling me things that actually would come up the more I do this task.
Was she the one who honked at me? If so -- well, holy shit, that just proves that you really don't know someone. A woman who seemed so helpful at work can be a terror on the road. Moreover, this is a fresh example of a particularly awkward nightmare I have: That I will get into a road rage incident with someone I know. (To play devil's advocate, there is a chance that she did not honk at me, that the honk I thought I heard is something I just made up.)
We'll see tomorrow, I guess. Or we won't. She could cut me off on my way into work and then be an angel as we sit at our desks, and she might not reconcile either side of her dual personality at all.
I need to take a left in order to get home, so I tried to nose as close to the center of this inlet as I could without blocking any cars that want to come in. And while I was moseying on over, I heard a honk behind me. There was a car that veered around me and onto the other lane because it wanted to take a right. I didn't move because I thought I had moved over enough.
Curious, I looked over to see if I could see the driver before she or he drove off. And I could ... and by God, I swear it looked like one of my co-workers -- specifically, one of the two co-workers who helped me a lot in my training yesterday as I was going neck-deep into this new task I am supposed to learn how to do. In fact, she was very proactive in helping me, pointing out things I didn't know and telling me things that actually would come up the more I do this task.
Was she the one who honked at me? If so -- well, holy shit, that just proves that you really don't know someone. A woman who seemed so helpful at work can be a terror on the road. Moreover, this is a fresh example of a particularly awkward nightmare I have: That I will get into a road rage incident with someone I know. (To play devil's advocate, there is a chance that she did not honk at me, that the honk I thought I heard is something I just made up.)
We'll see tomorrow, I guess. Or we won't. She could cut me off on my way into work and then be an angel as we sit at our desks, and she might not reconcile either side of her dual personality at all.
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
Who The Fuck Is This Asshole?
Something unique about waking up at 5:30 ... have I talked about this prick already?
So I just woke up, right? Every day for as long as I can remember, around this time of morning, there is a neighbor, to the left of us, who fires up his ... I'm guessing it's his truck, and I'm assuming it's a him, loudly. And even though it's unnecessary, after he backs down the driveway, he floors his accelerator and guns down the street, presumably on his way to work. I think I have been woken up a few times by this asshole.
Why does he do it? Well, I guess I can understand he hates waking up this early in the morning just like I do. But that he wants to blow it out his ass and let everyone know he's off to work -- and showing off his truck while he does it -- that ... I wonder if I can call the police on that bitch's ass.
One of these days I'm going to wake up early enough and come out of the house to see for certain which of the neighbors feels like he can do this without impunity. He can't get away with this. I just need to figure out how to get back at him.
So I just woke up, right? Every day for as long as I can remember, around this time of morning, there is a neighbor, to the left of us, who fires up his ... I'm guessing it's his truck, and I'm assuming it's a him, loudly. And even though it's unnecessary, after he backs down the driveway, he floors his accelerator and guns down the street, presumably on his way to work. I think I have been woken up a few times by this asshole.
Why does he do it? Well, I guess I can understand he hates waking up this early in the morning just like I do. But that he wants to blow it out his ass and let everyone know he's off to work -- and showing off his truck while he does it -- that ... I wonder if I can call the police on that bitch's ass.
One of these days I'm going to wake up early enough and come out of the house to see for certain which of the neighbors feels like he can do this without impunity. He can't get away with this. I just need to figure out how to get back at him.
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
Mapping Out My Mondays
So for the time being, my weekends are Sundays and Mondays. It feels kind of weird. Saturdays are my Fridays, and yet the past Saturdays have felt like the pressure is off, as if we are coming in to get some overtime.
Meanwhile, I am taking advantage of the fact that Mondays, a weekday, is free for me. That means I can do lots of things -- go to the doctor or dentist, see my psychiatrist, get my car fixed, go to the DMV -- and not need to take time off in order to do them. As an added bonus, now my Mondays (well, all my days) are now parent-free.
So what to do with my Mondays? Well, for the foreseeable future I am mapping them out like this:
So far, seems like a good plan.
Meanwhile, I am taking advantage of the fact that Mondays, a weekday, is free for me. That means I can do lots of things -- go to the doctor or dentist, see my psychiatrist, get my car fixed, go to the DMV -- and not need to take time off in order to do them. As an added bonus, now my Mondays (well, all my days) are now parent-free.
So what to do with my Mondays? Well, for the foreseeable future I am mapping them out like this:
- 8/20: staying at home; hopefully I won't leave the house, not even the yards
- 8/27: therapist
- 9/3 (Labor Day): probably go to the State Fair on its last day
- 9/10: do what I usually do when my parents are in town: coffee in the morning, exercise in the afternoon
- 9/17: uh ... go to ****e's place and fuck?
So far, seems like a good plan.
Monday, August 13, 2018
As My Day Planner Fades Into Obsolesence
Oh, I need to talk about this!
So I have been using my Franklin Quest day planner a lot less over the years. Started using it on the recommendation of my high school friend. But ever since the advent of blogging and Wailing And Failing I have largely jotted all my musings here. My time has warped how much, uh, time I can commit with organizing my day and life through my FQ as well, to the point where it's now a place where I write down what I spend in cash, as well as, literally, a binder in which all the receipts I collect I can wrap.
There was one other thing I could use my day planner for: Listing tasks for the day. In that sense it was still a godsend, even though I listed tasks sparingly throughout the year. Sometimes, though, I knew my tomorrow as going to be hectic and therefore I needed to remember all the stuff I needed to do. Hence, a page a day (or week, depending on what format I buy for the year) where I could jot down where I need to go and what I need to do. And then I can label priorities on them. And then, on that day, I could (if I were enterprising enough) look back and see what else I need to do, or come face-to-face with what I wanted to do but couldn't.
I can't do that this year. For the past few years, to cut down on paper and cost, I have gone from a daily format (where each day has two pages) to weekly (where each week has two pages). What I did not know when I bought the Original Weekly format planner for 2018 is that, for some reason, through some crooked scheme, they removed the page where you could list tasks for the whole week. I was able to use that with some efficiency. In fact, since I don't list things every day, having one page of lines to use for the whole week seemed to be a better use of pages. But for this year I have no space in which to list my tasks.
While subtle, the difference is astonishing. For the whole year I have not been able to organize my tomorrow. I can't jot down a list; instead, I try to organize things in my head -- and, frequently, I forget those tasks the next day. I'm living and upright, sure, but since January 1 I kind of don't know what I'm doing. And that's not a good way to go through life.
So I wonder if this is just a one-time quirk, something new for the Original design of the Weekly, or if all Daily Tasks pages have been removed from all Weekly formats. If it's the third thing, that's ridiculous. Just because I can only afford a Weekly format doesn't mean I can't use a Daily Tasks page each week. I'll just have to spring for the Daily version for 2019.
So I have been using my Franklin Quest day planner a lot less over the years. Started using it on the recommendation of my high school friend. But ever since the advent of blogging and Wailing And Failing I have largely jotted all my musings here. My time has warped how much, uh, time I can commit with organizing my day and life through my FQ as well, to the point where it's now a place where I write down what I spend in cash, as well as, literally, a binder in which all the receipts I collect I can wrap.
There was one other thing I could use my day planner for: Listing tasks for the day. In that sense it was still a godsend, even though I listed tasks sparingly throughout the year. Sometimes, though, I knew my tomorrow as going to be hectic and therefore I needed to remember all the stuff I needed to do. Hence, a page a day (or week, depending on what format I buy for the year) where I could jot down where I need to go and what I need to do. And then I can label priorities on them. And then, on that day, I could (if I were enterprising enough) look back and see what else I need to do, or come face-to-face with what I wanted to do but couldn't.
I can't do that this year. For the past few years, to cut down on paper and cost, I have gone from a daily format (where each day has two pages) to weekly (where each week has two pages). What I did not know when I bought the Original Weekly format planner for 2018 is that, for some reason, through some crooked scheme, they removed the page where you could list tasks for the whole week. I was able to use that with some efficiency. In fact, since I don't list things every day, having one page of lines to use for the whole week seemed to be a better use of pages. But for this year I have no space in which to list my tasks.
While subtle, the difference is astonishing. For the whole year I have not been able to organize my tomorrow. I can't jot down a list; instead, I try to organize things in my head -- and, frequently, I forget those tasks the next day. I'm living and upright, sure, but since January 1 I kind of don't know what I'm doing. And that's not a good way to go through life.
So I wonder if this is just a one-time quirk, something new for the Original design of the Weekly, or if all Daily Tasks pages have been removed from all Weekly formats. If it's the third thing, that's ridiculous. Just because I can only afford a Weekly format doesn't mean I can't use a Daily Tasks page each week. I'll just have to spring for the Daily version for 2019.
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Holy shit, the Jynx are in sixth place?!?!?!
Oh, also I want to commemorate that this is the last week where there are only two entries in the WMNSS. College sports start Thursday as women's soccer swings into action. Let us pray.
#-1: United FC (Last Week: -2). Goddammit, they did it. They fuckin' traded Superman to the Los Angeles Football Club Monday night. I'm both numb and pissed off, if that's such a thing. Or maybe it's the ooginess and tingling I'm feeling right now. Anyway, I'm still mad, and I'm still trying to process it, and I'm still struggling.
From a business/tactical standpoint, this is a mistake. OK, so maybe he wasn't scoring as much as he could have this year. But seven Goals and two Assists this year ain't chopped liver, and he was only one year removed from scoring 14 and chipping in three helpers. Maybe Adrian Heath and Manny Lagos could have entrusted Ramirez more instead of undermining him. Maybe they could have used those Designated Player spots on shoring up the Backline instead of signing fucking Wingers and fucking Strikers every goddamn week.
And by the way, if Manny Lagos did say that the NASL Loons are not the MLS Loons as a backhanded way to tell Ramirez fans to suck it up buttercup, I want to offer the statistics I just quoted above as proof that Superman has made the transition from second- to top-tier American soccer just fine, thank you. Also by the way, I think it's clear now that Heath never had faith in Ramirez and is instead going to deploy an attack via players the club just got from South America. If the goal is to reach the playoffs (something that isn't completely out of the realm of possibility, glory be), I don't think it's a great idea to experiment with chemistry as the regular season winds down. But shit, that's just me.
(Oh yeah, one more aside. When describing the move, some people in The Media have said that this is Ramirez's chance to "come home." He is a Southern California native. But has he ever expressed a desire to play for either LAFC or the L.A. Galaxy? If not, and I choose to believe Ramirez hasn't, bringing up his roots is misleading, and worse, could make people believe that he wanted to leave. That is bringing up an angle for the sake of sentimentality -- superstar comes home -- and/or softening what is, in the fanatical world of sports, a shot to the liver. Reporters should not say reckless things like that.)
Worse yet, the haul they got from Laugh-See for trading away Superman -- between $800,000 and a million in money -- is still in the squad's coffers, because they didn't do any other goddamn thing before the Transfer Window closed Wednesday night. I've seen at least one local soccer journalist say that it's better to keep the money until MNUFC finds the right guy. No way. When you trade away the face of the franchise in the prime of his playing career, you better fucking flip that around and get players in order to better the team, namely people on defense. If not, what the fuck was trading Ramirez for? And they didn't do shit.
And as much as this is a disaster on the pitch, this is a goddamn catastrophe with the fanbase. We love Superman. He has done nothing wrong. Wrong has been done to him, though -- cutting utterances, receiving undue shares of criticism, and then the unceremonious benching for the Seattle loss. We have seen him at his best, and there is no reason to believe that he couldn't do it again and for the next several seasons. Goddammit, he scored twice against LAFC the week before!!!
This isn't like Kevin Garnett, a superstar stuck on a failing team whose prime and time to win a championship was certainly not going to come while staying with the Timberwolves. Nor is this like Brian Dozier, a player who spent his career with the Twins but was the grizzled vet in a youthful locker room who was also looking for a big payday, either in Minnesota or elsewhere. Christian Ramirez was a bedrock of the organization and a vital talisman of a player who is still capable of striking fear into the hearts of opponents, and more than that, he wanted to stay and play here. You don't rip his heart out, and the hearts out of the soccer fans who give this organization millions of dollars, by trading away great players like him, especially when you have nothing to show for it.
Only my narcissism in being able to walk into brand-new Allianz Field 18 times next year and my laziness in seeing how I can back out of my commitment with my sales rep prevent me from pulling my season tickets. I don't really care anymore if trading Ramirez helps the team; Ramirez helps the team. Lagos and Heath, not to mention the Loons' fanbase, will miss him on the field of TCF Bank Stadium. And despite coming back from deficits twice, Saturday's 2-all draw at the Galaxy doesn't change my mind about this being a stupid, stupid idea.
Oh, and the up-and-down season with Francisco Calvo continues. Late in the match he tosses the ball high into the air and gets his second Yellow Card. Is this how a captain is supposed to act? He will miss United FC's next game, Saturday against the Dallas Burn, the team on top of the Western Conference. Angelo Rodriguez was by all accounts good, but he damn well better put the biscuit in the basket soon. I mean, Christian Ramirez would have scored Saturday night. Am I right?
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). Lose three-of-four in Cleveland, lose two-of-three at Detroit. Despite the Trade Deadline ending by all accounts on July 31, last week the Twinks traded Closer Fernando Rodney to The Bastard Philadelphia-By-Way-Of-Kansas City Athletics in exchange for another Young Arm. Good; he can give another team's fans heart attacks when he loads the bases in the Ninth Inning.
They're home this screening week. They play Pittsburgh Tuesday and Wednesday. That would be an interleague matchup I would want to see if I only had the time. The Tigers then come to town for a four-game series beginning Thursday. My friend has tickets for that Thursday matchup, and I plan on going to the game with him to see how many Twinks players I still recognize.
Oh, also I want to commemorate that this is the last week where there are only two entries in the WMNSS. College sports start Thursday as women's soccer swings into action. Let us pray.
#-1: United FC (Last Week: -2). Goddammit, they did it. They fuckin' traded Superman to the Los Angeles Football Club Monday night. I'm both numb and pissed off, if that's such a thing. Or maybe it's the ooginess and tingling I'm feeling right now. Anyway, I'm still mad, and I'm still trying to process it, and I'm still struggling.
From a business/tactical standpoint, this is a mistake. OK, so maybe he wasn't scoring as much as he could have this year. But seven Goals and two Assists this year ain't chopped liver, and he was only one year removed from scoring 14 and chipping in three helpers. Maybe Adrian Heath and Manny Lagos could have entrusted Ramirez more instead of undermining him. Maybe they could have used those Designated Player spots on shoring up the Backline instead of signing fucking Wingers and fucking Strikers every goddamn week.
And by the way, if Manny Lagos did say that the NASL Loons are not the MLS Loons as a backhanded way to tell Ramirez fans to suck it up buttercup, I want to offer the statistics I just quoted above as proof that Superman has made the transition from second- to top-tier American soccer just fine, thank you. Also by the way, I think it's clear now that Heath never had faith in Ramirez and is instead going to deploy an attack via players the club just got from South America. If the goal is to reach the playoffs (something that isn't completely out of the realm of possibility, glory be), I don't think it's a great idea to experiment with chemistry as the regular season winds down. But shit, that's just me.
(Oh yeah, one more aside. When describing the move, some people in The Media have said that this is Ramirez's chance to "come home." He is a Southern California native. But has he ever expressed a desire to play for either LAFC or the L.A. Galaxy? If not, and I choose to believe Ramirez hasn't, bringing up his roots is misleading, and worse, could make people believe that he wanted to leave. That is bringing up an angle for the sake of sentimentality -- superstar comes home -- and/or softening what is, in the fanatical world of sports, a shot to the liver. Reporters should not say reckless things like that.)
Worse yet, the haul they got from Laugh-See for trading away Superman -- between $800,000 and a million in money -- is still in the squad's coffers, because they didn't do any other goddamn thing before the Transfer Window closed Wednesday night. I've seen at least one local soccer journalist say that it's better to keep the money until MNUFC finds the right guy. No way. When you trade away the face of the franchise in the prime of his playing career, you better fucking flip that around and get players in order to better the team, namely people on defense. If not, what the fuck was trading Ramirez for? And they didn't do shit.
And as much as this is a disaster on the pitch, this is a goddamn catastrophe with the fanbase. We love Superman. He has done nothing wrong. Wrong has been done to him, though -- cutting utterances, receiving undue shares of criticism, and then the unceremonious benching for the Seattle loss. We have seen him at his best, and there is no reason to believe that he couldn't do it again and for the next several seasons. Goddammit, he scored twice against LAFC the week before!!!
This isn't like Kevin Garnett, a superstar stuck on a failing team whose prime and time to win a championship was certainly not going to come while staying with the Timberwolves. Nor is this like Brian Dozier, a player who spent his career with the Twins but was the grizzled vet in a youthful locker room who was also looking for a big payday, either in Minnesota or elsewhere. Christian Ramirez was a bedrock of the organization and a vital talisman of a player who is still capable of striking fear into the hearts of opponents, and more than that, he wanted to stay and play here. You don't rip his heart out, and the hearts out of the soccer fans who give this organization millions of dollars, by trading away great players like him, especially when you have nothing to show for it.
Only my narcissism in being able to walk into brand-new Allianz Field 18 times next year and my laziness in seeing how I can back out of my commitment with my sales rep prevent me from pulling my season tickets. I don't really care anymore if trading Ramirez helps the team; Ramirez helps the team. Lagos and Heath, not to mention the Loons' fanbase, will miss him on the field of TCF Bank Stadium. And despite coming back from deficits twice, Saturday's 2-all draw at the Galaxy doesn't change my mind about this being a stupid, stupid idea.
Oh, and the up-and-down season with Francisco Calvo continues. Late in the match he tosses the ball high into the air and gets his second Yellow Card. Is this how a captain is supposed to act? He will miss United FC's next game, Saturday against the Dallas Burn, the team on top of the Western Conference. Angelo Rodriguez was by all accounts good, but he damn well better put the biscuit in the basket soon. I mean, Christian Ramirez would have scored Saturday night. Am I right?
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). Lose three-of-four in Cleveland, lose two-of-three at Detroit. Despite the Trade Deadline ending by all accounts on July 31, last week the Twinks traded Closer Fernando Rodney to The Bastard Philadelphia-By-Way-Of-Kansas City Athletics in exchange for another Young Arm. Good; he can give another team's fans heart attacks when he loads the bases in the Ninth Inning.
They're home this screening week. They play Pittsburgh Tuesday and Wednesday. That would be an interleague matchup I would want to see if I only had the time. The Tigers then come to town for a four-game series beginning Thursday. My friend has tickets for that Thursday matchup, and I plan on going to the game with him to see how many Twinks players I still recognize.
Sunday, August 12, 2018
Expenses Without Receipts
Starting from Saturday, August 11:
- That evening I went to the Pizza Luce Block Party downtown. One pizza, one beer. When paying for tickets that convert to the pizza and beer I dropped the change of 50 cents as tip.
total: $100. (ETA at 2 p.m. on September 8 -- WTF?! How did I miss this mistake? Now that it's been so long ago I don't know what the hell the amount was. Shit. Uh, I'm going to just say ... $12. Fuck it.) - Answered a booty call from ****y. That day she invited me to the same stripper party that two other girls invited me to. Couldn't go because I'm broke. But I made the dumb mistake of asking her if she does one-on-ones, to which she replied, "Can you do it tonight?" And like a stupid dick, I leaped at the chance. I mean, it wasn't bad, but I'm totally broke right now. Eh, I'm so dumb. HJ from ****y: $100.
- Didn't spend anything on Thursday, so we really start Wednesday, August 8 -- I've been doing my best to avoid using cash until I get paid, and even then it's all going to my credit card bill because I still had to buy stuff and so I put it on my credit card bill. However, and I don't know if this is a state thing only, but by Minnesota law you cannot use a credit card to pay for lottery tickets. And since Powerball has gotten into nine digits again, I asked Father if he wanted some and he said yes. He wanted five; I played one. That means the total is, natch: $12.
- After getting home Father paid me back for his share of the Powerball, and Infusion of: $10.
- Back to Monday the 6th, where the only EWR was me getting paid at the U. to try and finish up this experiment. Two hours of listening to bleeps and bloops means an Infusion of: $20.
- On Sunday the 5th I needed to blog, so I went to Diamonds to do so before heading back up Central to catch the last-ever 3M Championship. The combination of getting up laid, huge traffic because Central was closed down for a street festival, and me trying to finish up my requiem to the 3M Championship led me to spend less than three hours at TPC Twin Cities when I initially wanted to be there for five. Some things just don't go your way. Lemonade plus tip at Diamonds: $3.
- To Saturday, August 4 ... I still don't know how scheduling at my new job works. On Friday I was told that I actually could work on Saturday, this day, even though I was not scheduled to on the training schedule sheet I got before I started. But I was allowed (according to my supervisor) to work until I reached 40 hours for the week. That was four hours, so from 9-1. That meant I had my afternoon free before I went home, showered, then went out to see United piss away a sure win. Before coming home I took a diversion and went to the inaugural Blue Sun Soda Festival very close to my house. It was great to see so many families enjoy an afternoon of community bonding. Too bad the sky was gray. And too bad it was so popular that I had trouble finding a spot. But I did, and I bought four tickets, each a quarter, in order to sample all the craft pop forming the backbone of the festival. Weirdly, though, these tickets had to be taxed, and Blue Sun Soda Shop did not bother us with paying the tax. They just ate the tax themselves, in the form of loose change they would take from the top of the box where its cash register lain and stuffed it back in the register. I was kind of worried what would happen if they ran out of change, so on top of the dollar I paid I threw in some of my own change, 25 cents. I then waited a long time before my street tacos from Elevation 5280 were finally made. Not bad, but as with all street tacos they were stuffed so much that some invariably fell out. Annoyed by that. With tip for the tacos my whole stay there cost me: $12.25.
- On Friday the 3rd Father paid me back for the Powerball tickets I just bought for him, an Infusion of: $10.
- Let us hurl all the way back to Sunday, July 29 ... where Father paid me back, again, for Powerball tickets. This time around he only wanted one. I got one as well, but I forgot to take one of them. Father probably thought I bought both for him, and so he paid me back for both. I wanted to give him back two dollars, but I figured I would pay for something of his soon. Haven't done that yet, though. So, technically, this is an Infusion of: $4.
- To Saturday the 28th, where, in anticipation of starting my job, I went to Moler to get my face professionally shaved by a student. I always feel better when someone else shaves my face, even though it does cost money. This time I charged the shave, but I tipped to the guy who shaved me with cash: $4.
- Friday, July 27 -- started My Last Free Day by going to Caribou/Einstein. Used my points on a free medium coffee, so bagel and tip came to: $3.75.
- I then went to the U. for a research study. It is a familiar place and experiment: The hearing experiment where I hear bleeps and bloops. I should go into more depth soon, but it was a blast from the past going back up there. And I needed the money. An Infusion of: $20.
- I needed it because I got bamboozled by *****e* to go to her house, where I thought I was going to see her but instead attended a fucking party. Well, I sort-of got back at her: She was holding a party on August 11 where she was also collecting boxes because she's moving. I told her I didn't have any money for her, but I did have boxes. Well, I really thought I did: I have two big boxes, but when I grabbed them, I saw that Father packed them full of toys my parents bought from Toys 'R' Us before they closed for good. So I ... misled *****e*. I feel sorry, because I truly thought I had boxes. But the dick side of me is like, eh. I'll try and make it up to her by buying boxes later this week. Maybe. Anyway, I fucked her for: $100.
- And then I went to My Art Gallery for a new exhibition. Still good to see it going strong. A donation of: $3.
- On Thursday the 26th I went to Al's Breakfast. Try to eat at this place once a year, usually in the summer when it's not overrun by college students. And thankfully my wait was less than five minutes before someone left. I got the Jose for the first time ever. I have always wondered whether Al's has a plate that's considered to be a "signature" dish. I guess it's this one, even though only one website says it is. It's good, but everything there is good. Hope to God it never closes due to gentrification. With tip: $13.
- I then went to the library to print out the company's offer sheet: 20 cents.
- Then went to St. Paul because I needed to talk to the government about not needing their health insurance anymore. Don't know how long I was there, so I leaned toward overestimating, and yes, I had about ten minutes (maybe a quarter's worth) of time before I had to leave. So I stayed, even though I had to get to my experiment at the U. Total: $1.
- U. experiment, hearing study. An Infusion of: $20.
- Wednesday, July 25 ... I was not working downtown at this time, but I still had to go there for two things: Having my annual eating date with my friend and getting my shoes shined. I wanted to do both the morning of a workday, but it didn't work out that way, especially since I was not given a head's-up as to when my assignment with the law firm was over, so I had to take a morning to do both. My friend paid for my coffee because she makes more money than I do. Then went to get my shoes shined at Lisa's. Thank Buddha she's still there, too. With tip: $15.
- And as is customary, after getting my shoes shined I moseyed over to the Bogart's kiosk to get a doughnut. With tip: $3.75.
- Had a research study to go to in the afternoon. An Infusion of: $20.
- That not I went to a party I really should not have gone to. But the host, *****a, has been good to me and I've felt bad about not going to her parties for a while now. Plus, ******e was there and I've rebuffed her invitations for a long time too. I finally bit the bullet, especially since the place where this is was close. Finally got ******e to a bed, and although I was afraid she wouldn't, she gave me a handjob. And it felt guuuuuuuuuuud. With dances for *****a and Barbie, whom I wanted to get an LD from for along time, plus cover and an extra bed charge -- wow, this adds up, doens't it? -- the total cost of this party is: $180.
- Going back to Monday, July 23, where I went to the U. for an experiment. An Infusion of: $20.
- Sunday the 22nd ... went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition), where I got a dance from Ash, who told me a lot of things about herself. I feel good that she trusts me. With coffee and tips: $28.
- On Saturday the 21st I went to the library to produce some invoices for Mother: 20 cents.
- I then went to one of the many breweries around the Twin Cities, Utepils, which had a music festival, reason enough for me to visit. The Pils was nice. They advertised a bunch of food trucks, but there were only two. I bought rib tips from one, but the woman charged me two bucks more than what was posted on their board. Which is funny, because while I was waiting in line, this woman consistently overcharged everyone who bought one of the truck's BBQ dishes -- and none of them said anything about it. When I spoke up, she charged me for the price written on the board ... and she did not take my tip. Fair enough. Plus tip for the Pils and it all came to: $14.
- On Friday, July 20 I packed in two experiments at the U. on the same day. Wanted to arrange it so I could immediately go from research study to another, but I couldn't; had a break of about 2 1/2 hours inbetween (maybe?), so I dinked around campus. The first experiment was a one-off. An Infusion of: $12.
- The second was, I think, the first time I revisited the hearing lab. Again, I'll talk about that later. An Infusion of: $20.
- That night I went to Glam Doll. Did not get a pourover coffee because I was able to eschew coffee in the morning and I wanted to keep that going. Got a hot chocolate instead. Put that and my first donut on my credit card. The second donut, and the tip, I paid with cash: $3.
- Thursday the 19th ... ****e, oh, ****e -- although I don't have to eat a fucking steak every time I go there, and I'm really skeeved that she has a male roommate that she tends to from time to time. Oh, well, she is my last whore.
- ****e was trying to clean up the house before I came over. She doesn't have to do that. While peeing I found a dime. An Infusion of: 10 cents.
- On Wednesday the 18th I went to Caribou in the morning. Used my points for a free mocha. Got a cookie to go with it. Rounded up for tip, so it equals: $1.
- Tuesday, July 17 ... Father paid me back for all those lottery tickets I got for him, an Infusion of: $50.
- Oh yeah -- when I was at the gas station buying lottery tickets for Father (and for me), I saw a woman just drop her change on the floor. And she just left. Didn't stop to stoop and pick up the change. You know, it's not much, but it's yours and it's legal tender. It'll be useful at some point, but she didn't care. Man, I don't know if that's wise. So I stopped down to scoop them up. I don't care, I'm not ashamed, shit. An Infusion of: 61 cents.
My God, Mother's Gone Off The Deep End Again
My parents are leaving in a few days, and increasingly Mother is getting into a tizzy. While I understand that I need to coordinate and organize all of their affairs while they're gone, there is so much shit to track that it's impossible for me to keep on top of it all. And she's not only piling on the things I need to do, she's adding bureaucratic wrinkles that are getting pretty fucking insufferable.
I was delayed by a whole hour from going to the Pizza Luce Block Party in downtown Minneapolis because Mother wanted to discuss some things. Again, I understand, but her talks about doing this and then doing that went long. But then she went fucking crazy. Whenever there is a violation letter regarding one of the real estate properties my parents own, she not only wants me to snap a photo and sent it to the property manager, she wants me to fucking write down on the letter the day and time I sent it. The day is goddamn bad enough. She wants me write down the motherfucking time. I have half a mind to just write fucking midnight on every single one of those letters.
And then Mother brought up several paper grocery bags. She then tells me that once I get through a bill, or a deposit, or an assessment or an insurance bill that I have to keep track of, I should throw them into a bag -- not just one bag, but one of at least four, designated according to whatever the fuck it is, I can't tell, because Mother is letting her goddamn OCD flag fly. I kind of already had it with the writing down the time on the letter thing. But after insisting I need to throw her books into a bad once I'm done with them, she then tells me that all insurance payments need to be written twice: Once on the bill stub, and once on this pocket-sized ledger Mother made for me, one for each of their dozens of properties. Oh goddamn, I don't need to write it even once, but fucking twice?!?!?!
If I had started yelling at her right then and there for all the stupid bullshit she wants me to do just so I could "track" whatever it is I'm tracking, she would've blown her stack and reverted back to the raving bitch she was a couple months. But there still is time for her to lose her temper ... or for me to lose mine.
I was delayed by a whole hour from going to the Pizza Luce Block Party in downtown Minneapolis because Mother wanted to discuss some things. Again, I understand, but her talks about doing this and then doing that went long. But then she went fucking crazy. Whenever there is a violation letter regarding one of the real estate properties my parents own, she not only wants me to snap a photo and sent it to the property manager, she wants me to fucking write down on the letter the day and time I sent it. The day is goddamn bad enough. She wants me write down the motherfucking time. I have half a mind to just write fucking midnight on every single one of those letters.
And then Mother brought up several paper grocery bags. She then tells me that once I get through a bill, or a deposit, or an assessment or an insurance bill that I have to keep track of, I should throw them into a bag -- not just one bag, but one of at least four, designated according to whatever the fuck it is, I can't tell, because Mother is letting her goddamn OCD flag fly. I kind of already had it with the writing down the time on the letter thing. But after insisting I need to throw her books into a bad once I'm done with them, she then tells me that all insurance payments need to be written twice: Once on the bill stub, and once on this pocket-sized ledger Mother made for me, one for each of their dozens of properties. Oh goddamn, I don't need to write it even once, but fucking twice?!?!?!
If I had started yelling at her right then and there for all the stupid bullshit she wants me to do just so I could "track" whatever it is I'm tracking, she would've blown her stack and reverted back to the raving bitch she was a couple months. But there still is time for her to lose her temper ... or for me to lose mine.
Saturday, August 11, 2018
Miss You, EPL
I've really gotten into the English Premier League the past, uh, four (?) years. Even though it technically began yesterday, the really kickofff, with six games being played today, makes today the "official" start to the EPL season. Because of that, I would have woken up extremely early, went down to either of the downtown pubs, ate for free for the first match (Newcastle hosting Tottingham Hotspur), then dinked around before I could bask in the multi-game setup that comes on at 9 o'clock. (There are four games going on simultaneously today, for example.)
But I have this new job, and it's Tuesday through Saturday, and so I will miss this EPL season opener, and, in fact, nearly all EPL Saturdays for as long as I have this job. It's a sacrifice that I need to make, but I will miss this time of year, where I have my time to myself to enjoy soccer how I want to.
Now, off to work.
But I have this new job, and it's Tuesday through Saturday, and so I will miss this EPL season opener, and, in fact, nearly all EPL Saturdays for as long as I have this job. It's a sacrifice that I need to make, but I will miss this time of year, where I have my time to myself to enjoy soccer how I want to.
Now, off to work.
Friday, August 10, 2018
Oh, OK, We're Gonna Get All Passive-Aggressive All Up In This Bitch Now, Huh?
Weirdest thing at work just now. Walking back into work from afternoon break and I get stuck behind the cleaning lady. She already is moving slow because she's wheeling a huge garbage can to pick up refuse. But she also struck up a conversation with someone ahead of her, and so I had to really back down as they were shooting the shit in front of me.
We get to a hallway. I hear footsteps behind me. Neither the cleaning lady nor the person she's talking to is walking faster. We hit the part of the hallway where it widens, only slightly. They start moving to the side because I think they both see the pile-up behind them.
I start moving over to the side. Just then I hear the person behind me. And she goes, and I quote: "Excuse me. I'm ... moving faster." And she cuts in front of me.
Oh, you're faster now? So that means everything, doesn't it? (OK, I'll stop and say that her statement isn't completely unambiguous. She might be talking about those two, or the entire situation where we were all backed up. But I will continue as though she was showing me up.) Sorry I was too slow for you, or too nice to tell those people to move it on over. I'm just trying to be a team player my second week on the job. You, who probably has been there for years, probably thinks you've built up enough, uh, goodwill that you were entitled to walking as fast as you want to -- and to insult people in the process.
I have to let it go. Have to. Because I have no idea who she is. She probably is above me in the organization chart. And if she has any bearing on my department, telling her off probably is the end of me at that job. But goddammit, I don't take this shit lying down.
And I got back in the most passive-aggressive, Minnesotan way possible: By taking it out on another person. I was walking back from the hallway a little later, and The Person Who Bangs The Keyboard was getting up and walking towards me to put away a file or something. I could have moved to the side. I didn't. I wanted to show her that I hear her pounding on her keys like she's pissed off for no good reason, and I forced her to veer off to my side. Huh, showed her that I've noticed she's typing way too fucking loud.
My God, I'm not gonna last at this place.
We get to a hallway. I hear footsteps behind me. Neither the cleaning lady nor the person she's talking to is walking faster. We hit the part of the hallway where it widens, only slightly. They start moving to the side because I think they both see the pile-up behind them.
I start moving over to the side. Just then I hear the person behind me. And she goes, and I quote: "Excuse me. I'm ... moving faster." And she cuts in front of me.
Oh, you're faster now? So that means everything, doesn't it? (OK, I'll stop and say that her statement isn't completely unambiguous. She might be talking about those two, or the entire situation where we were all backed up. But I will continue as though she was showing me up.) Sorry I was too slow for you, or too nice to tell those people to move it on over. I'm just trying to be a team player my second week on the job. You, who probably has been there for years, probably thinks you've built up enough, uh, goodwill that you were entitled to walking as fast as you want to -- and to insult people in the process.
I have to let it go. Have to. Because I have no idea who she is. She probably is above me in the organization chart. And if she has any bearing on my department, telling her off probably is the end of me at that job. But goddammit, I don't take this shit lying down.
And I got back in the most passive-aggressive, Minnesotan way possible: By taking it out on another person. I was walking back from the hallway a little later, and The Person Who Bangs The Keyboard was getting up and walking towards me to put away a file or something. I could have moved to the side. I didn't. I wanted to show her that I hear her pounding on her keys like she's pissed off for no good reason, and I forced her to veer off to my side. Huh, showed her that I've noticed she's typing way too fucking loud.
My God, I'm not gonna last at this place.
Updated Measurements
Herberger's is going out of business, and they seemed to have been going out of business for the past decade. Well, maybe five months, but that's still a long time. Nevertheless I feel the scavenger in me, so yesterday after work I went to the Herberger's at The Mall Closest To Me for, like, the third time in a week.
I am mentally putting together a shopping list. Surprisingly after several months of going out of business, there is still a lot of stuff left for people to buy at low, low prices. So beyond buying a pair of easygoing khakis, I'm in a bind: Either buy now and miss out on prices going even lower on them, or wait and risk someone else getting them. What to do, what to do. ...
This is the stuff I want:
This is the stuff I think I need:
I'll think about it. In the meantime I had been trying on suitcoats and shirts to make sure I know which sizes to buy. Herberger's is "Going Out Of Business," so of course all sales are final.
I had listed my measurements, even though they were from high school, because I needed to know what sizes fit me. But after trying them on I realized that those were just too old, and I'm fatter now. So, after lots of shirts and coats and looking at my most snug pair of jeans, I want to update some of my measurements:
I am mentally putting together a shopping list. Surprisingly after several months of going out of business, there is still a lot of stuff left for people to buy at low, low prices. So beyond buying a pair of easygoing khakis, I'm in a bind: Either buy now and miss out on prices going even lower on them, or wait and risk someone else getting them. What to do, what to do. ...
This is the stuff I want:
- Sinatra-style hat
- Wallet
- Socks
- Shoes
- Dress shirt
- Jeans
This is the stuff I think I need:
- Suit
I'll think about it. In the meantime I had been trying on suitcoats and shirts to make sure I know which sizes to buy. Herberger's is "Going Out Of Business," so of course all sales are final.
I had listed my measurements, even though they were from high school, because I needed to know what sizes fit me. But after trying them on I realized that those were just too old, and I'm fatter now. So, after lots of shirts and coats and looking at my most snug pair of jeans, I want to update some of my measurements:
- Waist: 34
- Neck: 16
- Sleeve: 32-3
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Tirangry
It's not a good thing when you wake up pissed off. But that's how it is when you go to bed at 1:30 and are awakened by your alarm at 5:30. I'm tired and angry. I'm tirangry.
I don't know how much longer I have to be solely on this schedule, but I hope it ends soon. Or, I have to go to bed earlier. Or, no one has to set me off today.
That latter thing won't happen, I'm afraid. There is this co-worker who still bangs on the fucking keys like she's taking out her frustrations on it, and that is annoying. Meanwhile, I don't know if it's me or not, but maybe my supervisor snapped at me. That's the way my heart feels, even though my mind is thinking, "No big deal, let it go." Right now I'm not in a mood to let anything go, so hopefully I don't melt down today.
I don't know how much longer I have to be solely on this schedule, but I hope it ends soon. Or, I have to go to bed earlier. Or, no one has to set me off today.
That latter thing won't happen, I'm afraid. There is this co-worker who still bangs on the fucking keys like she's taking out her frustrations on it, and that is annoying. Meanwhile, I don't know if it's me or not, but maybe my supervisor snapped at me. That's the way my heart feels, even though my mind is thinking, "No big deal, let it go." Right now I'm not in a mood to let anything go, so hopefully I don't melt down today.
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
OK, so I'm getting into work. It sucks to wake up in the morning, but the work day flies by. It feels like it's less than eight hours.
However, one of the things that really sucks is that I can't eat at my desk. That won't be a problem once my folks leave; I just won't eat at work. (That might help with my waistline, too.) But right now, since my parents lovingly make lunch for me, I have to either snarf it down during morning break (which I've done with the bananas) or eat it after work. Since somebody brought in leftovers ("Hawaiian sliders," two types of pasta and Caesar salad) for work today, I ate the bao and the banana my folks gave me just now, here at the library, where I'm blog posting this. And it's a pain in the ass. I usually am not hungry for dinner, but now I'm really not hungry.
However, one of the things that really sucks is that I can't eat at my desk. That won't be a problem once my folks leave; I just won't eat at work. (That might help with my waistline, too.) But right now, since my parents lovingly make lunch for me, I have to either snarf it down during morning break (which I've done with the bananas) or eat it after work. Since somebody brought in leftovers ("Hawaiian sliders," two types of pasta and Caesar salad) for work today, I ate the bao and the banana my folks gave me just now, here at the library, where I'm blog posting this. And it's a pain in the ass. I usually am not hungry for dinner, but now I'm really not hungry.
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: July
Seeing that it is July, of course most of the babes (though not all) are wearing the colors and the designs of the American flag. And yet it gave me pause, knowing that crackpot Republicans have twisted our nation's colors for their own racist, hateful agendas. Alana, out of Ft. Lauderdale, is wearing a bikini and standing in front of an American flag. Feels more like Alex Jones than George Patton, but that's the times telling me that.
Maybe that's why I find the dozen women for the month to be, overall, underwhelming. For one thing, the model with the biggest picture, Dayton's Alyssa Wickman (wearing a white one-piece that has a small American flag stitched onto the left leg hole hem) has set her Instagram and Twitter private. How can jerk off to you if you won't let me see your pictures? And while Amanda out of Nashville has a nice smile and a killer body, I don't need her to hold a guitar as a prop.
The runner-up is Kayla, out of Newman, Ga., with her dark hair and dark eyes. But the winner is Christina, out of Metairie, La. She, like Kayla, is wearing an American two-piece, but I love that she's smiling. Women, you have to smile more! (I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Well, I like Christina's smile, that's what I want to say!)
Maybe that's why I find the dozen women for the month to be, overall, underwhelming. For one thing, the model with the biggest picture, Dayton's Alyssa Wickman (wearing a white one-piece that has a small American flag stitched onto the left leg hole hem) has set her Instagram and Twitter private. How can jerk off to you if you won't let me see your pictures? And while Amanda out of Nashville has a nice smile and a killer body, I don't need her to hold a guitar as a prop.
The runner-up is Kayla, out of Newman, Ga., with her dark hair and dark eyes. But the winner is Christina, out of Metairie, La. She, like Kayla, is wearing an American two-piece, but I love that she's smiling. Women, you have to smile more! (I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Well, I like Christina's smile, that's what I want to say!)
Monday, August 6, 2018
So I was at the Blue Sun Soda/Pop Festival Saturday afternoon. Got some street tacos from this food truck called Elevation 5280. Nothing mind-blowing, but it was good.
As I was throwing away my plate I saw another plate in the garbage can -- full plate of three tacos, just like mine, totally uneaten. Moments prior I saw a couple kids around that can, so I assume one of them throw these away. They were untouched, immaculately so. And all I could think about was the waste of food. Again, they weren't great, but were they so bad that you took one look and decided you weren't going to eat it? Also, these street tacos cost ten bucks. You may not like it, but you have to at least take a bite before deciding they were inedible. But no, not one. Ten bucks in the trash, just like that.
They were on top of this garbage can, completely untouched by anything else. So yes, for just a nanosecond I thought of ...
As I was throwing away my plate I saw another plate in the garbage can -- full plate of three tacos, just like mine, totally uneaten. Moments prior I saw a couple kids around that can, so I assume one of them throw these away. They were untouched, immaculately so. And all I could think about was the waste of food. Again, they weren't great, but were they so bad that you took one look and decided you weren't going to eat it? Also, these street tacos cost ten bucks. You may not like it, but you have to at least take a bite before deciding they were inedible. But no, not one. Ten bucks in the trash, just like that.
They were on top of this garbage can, completely untouched by anything else. So yes, for just a nanosecond I thought of ...
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Goddamnit, did the fucking Jynx just lose three in a row?!?!?! Not talking about them, not talking about them, not talking about them. ...
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1). A 4-2 screening week, all at home. Lost the series to Cleveland but made up for it by sweeping the pathetic Kansas City Royals (who cares, they won their World Series!) over the weekend. They remain nine games back of Cleveland in the A.L. Central, but at least they aren't on the short end of the widest gap among division opponents anymore; with Boston sweeping the Yankees this weekend, Boston has now opened up, as of press time, a 9 1/2-game lead on the Yanks in the A.L. East. So that's got to count for something, right?
Oh, and by Tuesday Brian Dozier and Lance Lynn were both traded, to the Dodgers and Yankees, respectively. Good for them. They'll probably dominate baseball after getting free of those Twinks uniforms.
I'ven't got much else to say because I wanted to talk about Minnesota United. Just want to note that this week they are on the road: Four vs. Cleveland starting tonight, then three in Detroit.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -2). I feel like I'm overreacting. But after watching these Loonies choke on a 1-0 lead by letting in two Goals by Seattle in stoppage time (!!!), I still am mad -- not in a pissed-off, throwing-shit-around-the-house type of way, but a dull apoplexy, something where, when that game-winning tally happened, I would look to my friend (who's not there because I usually don't go to sporting events with other people) and shake my head.
And yet although I want to concentrate on this loss, the team's second in a row, I think there is a hell of a lot more under the surface that needs to be brought out into the open instead ... and it all deals with Christian Ramirez, Loons Striker and the guy many fans who have followed MNUFC from its NASL days regard -- rightfully -- as their guy. Because it looks as though he might not be wearing the Loons jersey for much longer, and that's a huge fucking problem.
OK, so here's what happened, as best I can see. Angelo Rodriguez, the team's second (or is it third?) Designated Player, was all set to be part of the bench for United Saturday. Then, he was named to the starting lineup ... in place of Superman. And he looked ... OK. He didn't score (Darwin Quintero, Jr. did, again), but he had a couple shots, including a header from Quintero that just went wide.
In the 91st Minute, Francisco Calvo was called for a handball. Replays showed he was sticking his legs out while his body was falling to the ground at a perpendicular angle; the shot that was coming in on goal hit his left arm, which was kind off to the side but was reaching downward, as if Calvo was bracing for a fall. Upon Video Assistant Referee, a Penalty Kick was called for Seattle, and the Sounders converted it to the tie the game.
At this point the Sounders had exhausted all three of its subs. Adrian Heath, meanwhile, still had one. He did use that sub. No yanking Rodriguez for, say, Wyatt Omsberg, the rook who is still a pretty tall dude who could fight in the air for 50/50 balls. And definitely no Ramirez, who stayed lashed to the bench. So, five minutes later, a Hail Mary lofted ball into the Minnesota defensive half was ganked by two Loons, won by the only Sounder there, and flipped back to a marauding Will Bruin, who himself chipped it over Bobby Shuttleworth. And the Loons once again snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.
That's not all. In the bewildering moroseness of the loss, I saw a few weird things. First of all, The Athletic's Jeff Reuter noticed (and reported on Twitter) that Ramirez was practicing triangle drills before the match with Miguel Ibarra and Brent Kallman, two of his teammates with MNUFC all the way back to the NASL days. For the past week or so, Reuter has been able to confirm that the front office is "listening to offers" for Ramirez for a few clubs. The Transfer Window, aka soccer's Trade Deadline, is Wednesday. So maybe it's reading too much into things, but Ramirez knowing that he might be on the trading block and then hearing that he won't start made him think he needed to stand by his mates one last time if he's traded.
The weirdest thing, however, was that Christian Ramirez's aunt, who lives in Colombia, tweeted about him after the loss. And he called out Head Coach Heath:
Holy shit, is this true?
OK, so here's my take. I understand that you need to play the DPs you sign. But I thought that Rodriguez would be a second-half sub. At the very least flip it around and put in Ramirez at the half. And at the very, very least use that fucking sub for Superman after Seattle takes the lead, for fuck's sake. He did none of that. Ramirez has had some struggles this year, but he remains a prime scorer for this club, and he has shown tremendous chemistry with Ibarra and Quintero. To let that go to waste, when you had one sub left to use, in a final home game before going on the road for the next six-to-seven weeks, in a match the entire team themselves said was the important match of the year -- well, I'm astonished.
(In the meantime Calvo again tried to answer reporters' questions about potential discord within the team by questioning the reporters' motives. He's been having a low-grade tiff with The Media all year. Calvo's not too fucking far off from telling journalists their questions are "fake news," if that's the road he wants to go down, and I think he does. That he is the Captain of this club and has been trotted out as a go-to spokesman from the team makes this a potential hornet's nest in team-media relations. Watch this space.)
I now have to wonder why Heath did not put in one of the squad's best scoring weapons at all in a pivotal match. Is it personal animosity? Is it possible that Heath, who had played Ramirez for matches before, was ordered to start Rodriguez (and, maybe, keep Ramirez on the bench) by Sporting Director Manny Lagos? Is there a trade brewing? Is Ramirez sad that he will be traded? Mad?
And the most important question in my mind right now: Will Christian Ramirez be traded? I know what the answer to that should be: Fuck no. Heath and Lagos may have their reservations about Superman's play, or they may think that the future for this team has to go through Quintero, Rodriguez and Romario Ibarra. They might not be wrong. But if they think that Ramirez is chopped liver, they're pretty fucking wrong. And moreover, and more important to that, the fanbase loves him. They still believe in him even if Heath and Lagos do not. They -- and shit, let's throw in Owner Bill McGuire too -- may think we're all happy that we have a team in Major League Soccer, but they have to understand that the true diehards that come to TCF Bank Stadium each match cares for Christina Ramirez. A lot.
So I do not intend this as a threat or a warning. I really don't. Trade Christian Ramirez at your own peril. Giving him up is a bad move -- possibly for on-the-pitch reasons but definitely for fan relations reasons. There was a beer thrown at the Sounders when they scored to win the game in the 96th Minute. I assure you that if Ramirez is traded away, there will be a hell of a lot more cups of beer thrown onto the pitch. And some of them might not be thrown at the other team.
Oh yeah, the games. So MNUFC had a chance to pull into sixth place in the Western Conference. That's why they said Saturday night's match was so important. Instead they remain out of the playoff picture and now they play five straight games on the road, beginning with Saturday's match vs. Zlatan Ibrahimovich and the Los Angeles Galaxy. I have no doubt that this crushing loss will send this entire team, and this franchise, into a tailspin by the time they get back. And I wonder why I renewed my season tickets with them. Harrumph.
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1). A 4-2 screening week, all at home. Lost the series to Cleveland but made up for it by sweeping the pathetic Kansas City Royals (who cares, they won their World Series!) over the weekend. They remain nine games back of Cleveland in the A.L. Central, but at least they aren't on the short end of the widest gap among division opponents anymore; with Boston sweeping the Yankees this weekend, Boston has now opened up, as of press time, a 9 1/2-game lead on the Yanks in the A.L. East. So that's got to count for something, right?
Oh, and by Tuesday Brian Dozier and Lance Lynn were both traded, to the Dodgers and Yankees, respectively. Good for them. They'll probably dominate baseball after getting free of those Twinks uniforms.
I'ven't got much else to say because I wanted to talk about Minnesota United. Just want to note that this week they are on the road: Four vs. Cleveland starting tonight, then three in Detroit.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -2). I feel like I'm overreacting. But after watching these Loonies choke on a 1-0 lead by letting in two Goals by Seattle in stoppage time (!!!), I still am mad -- not in a pissed-off, throwing-shit-around-the-house type of way, but a dull apoplexy, something where, when that game-winning tally happened, I would look to my friend (who's not there because I usually don't go to sporting events with other people) and shake my head.
And yet although I want to concentrate on this loss, the team's second in a row, I think there is a hell of a lot more under the surface that needs to be brought out into the open instead ... and it all deals with Christian Ramirez, Loons Striker and the guy many fans who have followed MNUFC from its NASL days regard -- rightfully -- as their guy. Because it looks as though he might not be wearing the Loons jersey for much longer, and that's a huge fucking problem.
OK, so here's what happened, as best I can see. Angelo Rodriguez, the team's second (or is it third?) Designated Player, was all set to be part of the bench for United Saturday. Then, he was named to the starting lineup ... in place of Superman. And he looked ... OK. He didn't score (Darwin Quintero, Jr. did, again), but he had a couple shots, including a header from Quintero that just went wide.
In the 91st Minute, Francisco Calvo was called for a handball. Replays showed he was sticking his legs out while his body was falling to the ground at a perpendicular angle; the shot that was coming in on goal hit his left arm, which was kind off to the side but was reaching downward, as if Calvo was bracing for a fall. Upon Video Assistant Referee, a Penalty Kick was called for Seattle, and the Sounders converted it to the tie the game.
At this point the Sounders had exhausted all three of its subs. Adrian Heath, meanwhile, still had one. He did use that sub. No yanking Rodriguez for, say, Wyatt Omsberg, the rook who is still a pretty tall dude who could fight in the air for 50/50 balls. And definitely no Ramirez, who stayed lashed to the bench. So, five minutes later, a Hail Mary lofted ball into the Minnesota defensive half was ganked by two Loons, won by the only Sounder there, and flipped back to a marauding Will Bruin, who himself chipped it over Bobby Shuttleworth. And the Loons once again snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.
That's not all. In the bewildering moroseness of the loss, I saw a few weird things. First of all, The Athletic's Jeff Reuter noticed (and reported on Twitter) that Ramirez was practicing triangle drills before the match with Miguel Ibarra and Brent Kallman, two of his teammates with MNUFC all the way back to the NASL days. For the past week or so, Reuter has been able to confirm that the front office is "listening to offers" for Ramirez for a few clubs. The Transfer Window, aka soccer's Trade Deadline, is Wednesday. So maybe it's reading too much into things, but Ramirez knowing that he might be on the trading block and then hearing that he won't start made him think he needed to stand by his mates one last time if he's traded.
The weirdest thing, however, was that Christian Ramirez's aunt, who lives in Colombia, tweeted about him after the loss. And he called out Head Coach Heath:
Adrian Heath has never loved Christian Ramirez. He has not respected and valued him as the star player and scorer who helped MNFC jump from NASL to MLS. He has not recognized his serious, responsible work and his permanent effort to move the team forward with his many notes.— Luz Marina Tamayo G. (@gilrest) August 5, 2018
Holy shit, is this true?
OK, so here's my take. I understand that you need to play the DPs you sign. But I thought that Rodriguez would be a second-half sub. At the very least flip it around and put in Ramirez at the half. And at the very, very least use that fucking sub for Superman after Seattle takes the lead, for fuck's sake. He did none of that. Ramirez has had some struggles this year, but he remains a prime scorer for this club, and he has shown tremendous chemistry with Ibarra and Quintero. To let that go to waste, when you had one sub left to use, in a final home game before going on the road for the next six-to-seven weeks, in a match the entire team themselves said was the important match of the year -- well, I'm astonished.
(In the meantime Calvo again tried to answer reporters' questions about potential discord within the team by questioning the reporters' motives. He's been having a low-grade tiff with The Media all year. Calvo's not too fucking far off from telling journalists their questions are "fake news," if that's the road he wants to go down, and I think he does. That he is the Captain of this club and has been trotted out as a go-to spokesman from the team makes this a potential hornet's nest in team-media relations. Watch this space.)
I now have to wonder why Heath did not put in one of the squad's best scoring weapons at all in a pivotal match. Is it personal animosity? Is it possible that Heath, who had played Ramirez for matches before, was ordered to start Rodriguez (and, maybe, keep Ramirez on the bench) by Sporting Director Manny Lagos? Is there a trade brewing? Is Ramirez sad that he will be traded? Mad?
And the most important question in my mind right now: Will Christian Ramirez be traded? I know what the answer to that should be: Fuck no. Heath and Lagos may have their reservations about Superman's play, or they may think that the future for this team has to go through Quintero, Rodriguez and Romario Ibarra. They might not be wrong. But if they think that Ramirez is chopped liver, they're pretty fucking wrong. And moreover, and more important to that, the fanbase loves him. They still believe in him even if Heath and Lagos do not. They -- and shit, let's throw in Owner Bill McGuire too -- may think we're all happy that we have a team in Major League Soccer, but they have to understand that the true diehards that come to TCF Bank Stadium each match cares for Christina Ramirez. A lot.
So I do not intend this as a threat or a warning. I really don't. Trade Christian Ramirez at your own peril. Giving him up is a bad move -- possibly for on-the-pitch reasons but definitely for fan relations reasons. There was a beer thrown at the Sounders when they scored to win the game in the 96th Minute. I assure you that if Ramirez is traded away, there will be a hell of a lot more cups of beer thrown onto the pitch. And some of them might not be thrown at the other team.
Oh yeah, the games. So MNUFC had a chance to pull into sixth place in the Western Conference. That's why they said Saturday night's match was so important. Instead they remain out of the playoff picture and now they play five straight games on the road, beginning with Saturday's match vs. Zlatan Ibrahimovich and the Los Angeles Galaxy. I have no doubt that this crushing loss will send this entire team, and this franchise, into a tailspin by the time they get back. And I wonder why I renewed my season tickets with them. Harrumph.
Sunday, August 5, 2018
RIP, 3M Championship
After blog posting this at Diamonds Coffeeshop I'm going back up Central (well, a detour off Central; there is an Open Streets festival going on and it's snarling up traffic) all the way to Blaine to catch the final round of the 3M Championship at TPC Twin Cities. And it'll be the last time I'll do that, because this is the last-ever 3M Championship.
Starting as the Burnet Senior Classic in 1993, becoming the Coldwell Banker Burnet Classic in '98, and moving from Bunker Hills in Coon Rapids to TPC Twin Cities in Blaine (where 3M became title sponsor) in 2001, it was the only regular golf tournament held locally from any national tour. Sure, it was the Senior Tour (or the PGA Champions Tour, or PGA Tour Champions, what they call themselves now), but it was still a kick to see all these golfers I remember watching on the TV in far-flung places in the U.S. and the world coming to freakin' Coon Rapids to play for all us Minnesotans. It got even better as the tournament aged, because golfers on the regular PGA Tour aged into the Seniors Tour, and that allowed me to finally see these guys in the flesh.
But the biggest masterstroke this tourney, now run by longtime golf maven Hollis Cavner, did came in 2002. After a couple of early unsteady years, the 3M had been humming along. One of its greatest revenue streams was charging admission. I remember thinking at the time that I would have wanted to see this tournament live, but I would not pay to watch people hit golf balls in the searing heat for the whole day.
Then 9/11 happened. I have no idea if the accompanying fear and panic was a factor for Cavner. A dip in the economy, albeit shallow and temporary, happened immediately after that; maybe that was a factor. Or maybe he thought he could get more crowds to come and had thought that even before 9/11. Whatever the case, for the 2002 tournament, admission fees were waved. Everybody can now come in for free. And that's what convinced me to come watch a golf tournament in-person for the first time ... and, unless I'm wrong, I've been coming to the Sunday final day for every tournament since.
I am convinced that a lot of people who were interested in watching golf (and who, like me, thought that golf tournaments always occurred Somewhere Far From Here) wanted to see the 3M Championship but didn't want to pay. Making this tournament free for all gave so many casual fans like me a taste of what being a spectator for this sport is all about. And that led a lot of people to say that, in fact, they would pay to spend a day in the searing heat watching other people hit golf balls. In tournaments such as the Ryder Cup, which happened at Hazeltine two years ago. And I paid to get in -- $200, in fact, and I don't regret it.
So, thank you, Hollis Cavner, for doing this. And yet I also disappointed in him -- partly for his actions but mostly for his words earlier this summer, when initial reports were confirmed and that the regular PGA Tour was going to come here for the first time in decades for a regular tour for at least the next seven years. What will be called the 3M Open will take place around the 4th of July; in fact, next year's inaugural begins on Independence Day. It will also take place at the TPC Twin Cities.
And the 3M Open will replace the 3M Championship. That's why I need to go up there as soon as I finish with this -- this is the last-ever tournament, and with storms in the forecast, I don't know how long I'll be there. I wanted to be out there for a long time once I learned this will be the death of the tourney, but a combination of getting up late at night to take a vicious shit (a result of eating a huge plate of nachos at the abortion of a United match and then eating a pizza at Surly) and sleeping in late pushed my schedule all the way back to, well, 12:59 p.m., when I am typing up this particular sentence.
I don't know the business at all. But theoretically, you could find another title sponsor for the Senior event and continued to play it at the same golf course in a month's time. There are some Senior golfers who don't want to see it go, particularly Rocco Mediate. That obviously doesn't sway Cavner. He has moved this slot to another tournament he will run, on this same date, to a course in South Dakota. But he has said that he wants to fry bigger fish. Which is all well and good, but that doesn't mean you have to kill off the baby that made all of this possible.
Or maybe it does, how the fuck should I know? All I know is that through 26 years, the 3M Championship has become a regular staple -- and a sure money-maker -- for all parties involved, but now, in the interest of "More," it'll be killed off.
Prices for admission for the 3M Open, by the way, are between $25 and $65 daily. I might actually pay it. That's a by-product of learning to love watching golf live, all thanks to this humble yet dignified tournament. But free's a hell of a lot better.
I'll miss you, 3M Championship. Better get over there now.
Starting as the Burnet Senior Classic in 1993, becoming the Coldwell Banker Burnet Classic in '98, and moving from Bunker Hills in Coon Rapids to TPC Twin Cities in Blaine (where 3M became title sponsor) in 2001, it was the only regular golf tournament held locally from any national tour. Sure, it was the Senior Tour (or the PGA Champions Tour, or PGA Tour Champions, what they call themselves now), but it was still a kick to see all these golfers I remember watching on the TV in far-flung places in the U.S. and the world coming to freakin' Coon Rapids to play for all us Minnesotans. It got even better as the tournament aged, because golfers on the regular PGA Tour aged into the Seniors Tour, and that allowed me to finally see these guys in the flesh.
But the biggest masterstroke this tourney, now run by longtime golf maven Hollis Cavner, did came in 2002. After a couple of early unsteady years, the 3M had been humming along. One of its greatest revenue streams was charging admission. I remember thinking at the time that I would have wanted to see this tournament live, but I would not pay to watch people hit golf balls in the searing heat for the whole day.
Then 9/11 happened. I have no idea if the accompanying fear and panic was a factor for Cavner. A dip in the economy, albeit shallow and temporary, happened immediately after that; maybe that was a factor. Or maybe he thought he could get more crowds to come and had thought that even before 9/11. Whatever the case, for the 2002 tournament, admission fees were waved. Everybody can now come in for free. And that's what convinced me to come watch a golf tournament in-person for the first time ... and, unless I'm wrong, I've been coming to the Sunday final day for every tournament since.
I am convinced that a lot of people who were interested in watching golf (and who, like me, thought that golf tournaments always occurred Somewhere Far From Here) wanted to see the 3M Championship but didn't want to pay. Making this tournament free for all gave so many casual fans like me a taste of what being a spectator for this sport is all about. And that led a lot of people to say that, in fact, they would pay to spend a day in the searing heat watching other people hit golf balls. In tournaments such as the Ryder Cup, which happened at Hazeltine two years ago. And I paid to get in -- $200, in fact, and I don't regret it.
So, thank you, Hollis Cavner, for doing this. And yet I also disappointed in him -- partly for his actions but mostly for his words earlier this summer, when initial reports were confirmed and that the regular PGA Tour was going to come here for the first time in decades for a regular tour for at least the next seven years. What will be called the 3M Open will take place around the 4th of July; in fact, next year's inaugural begins on Independence Day. It will also take place at the TPC Twin Cities.
And the 3M Open will replace the 3M Championship. That's why I need to go up there as soon as I finish with this -- this is the last-ever tournament, and with storms in the forecast, I don't know how long I'll be there. I wanted to be out there for a long time once I learned this will be the death of the tourney, but a combination of getting up late at night to take a vicious shit (a result of eating a huge plate of nachos at the abortion of a United match and then eating a pizza at Surly) and sleeping in late pushed my schedule all the way back to, well, 12:59 p.m., when I am typing up this particular sentence.
I don't know the business at all. But theoretically, you could find another title sponsor for the Senior event and continued to play it at the same golf course in a month's time. There are some Senior golfers who don't want to see it go, particularly Rocco Mediate. That obviously doesn't sway Cavner. He has moved this slot to another tournament he will run, on this same date, to a course in South Dakota. But he has said that he wants to fry bigger fish. Which is all well and good, but that doesn't mean you have to kill off the baby that made all of this possible.
Or maybe it does, how the fuck should I know? All I know is that through 26 years, the 3M Championship has become a regular staple -- and a sure money-maker -- for all parties involved, but now, in the interest of "More," it'll be killed off.
Prices for admission for the 3M Open, by the way, are between $25 and $65 daily. I might actually pay it. That's a by-product of learning to love watching golf live, all thanks to this humble yet dignified tournament. But free's a hell of a lot better.
I'll miss you, 3M Championship. Better get over there now.
Saturday, August 4, 2018
First Week Thoughts
It's a lot of information, but I think I'm coping.
So far I like the people I work with and for. There's one person who bangs on the keys. Also, I just realized today that the supervisor I will need to answer to is on vacation right now. (I met him Monday, but he had the rest of the week off.) Will the good feeling I have fade with the change coming next week? It's possible.
The worst thing about this week, as I've said before, is starting my shift at 6:30. Oh, and by the way, I realized Wednesday that this job is shift work. Oh, also, I can't eat at my desk. That puts a crimp on a lot of things.
Nevertheless, these guys are trying to help me get comfortable as much as possible. For example, I asked whether I could left the desk to make it a standing one, and my supervisor got a facilities person from another building to get me a frame. I'm not using it now because I wanted to sit at the desk to its right. And no one is caring that I'm not using something I requested.
So my weekend has already started. I get Mondays off, which will be weird. When I come back Tuesday, I'll see what else changes. Fingers crossed.
So far I like the people I work with and for. There's one person who bangs on the keys. Also, I just realized today that the supervisor I will need to answer to is on vacation right now. (I met him Monday, but he had the rest of the week off.) Will the good feeling I have fade with the change coming next week? It's possible.
The worst thing about this week, as I've said before, is starting my shift at 6:30. Oh, and by the way, I realized Wednesday that this job is shift work. Oh, also, I can't eat at my desk. That puts a crimp on a lot of things.
Nevertheless, these guys are trying to help me get comfortable as much as possible. For example, I asked whether I could left the desk to make it a standing one, and my supervisor got a facilities person from another building to get me a frame. I'm not using it now because I wanted to sit at the desk to its right. And no one is caring that I'm not using something I requested.
So my weekend has already started. I get Mondays off, which will be weird. When I come back Tuesday, I'll see what else changes. Fingers crossed.
Friday, August 3, 2018
Side Cramps
For the past ... oh, I don't know, week? I've had a cramp on my side, right around where my kidneys are. It's kind of a dull stab, if that makes any sense, and sometimes it tickles, like it does right now. I've had it day and night, and I notice it a lot.
I don't know if this has anything to do with eating so much lately, or if this is a sign of something getting worse. But if it is getting worse, well, you heard it here first.
I don't know if this has anything to do with eating so much lately, or if this is a sign of something getting worse. But if it is getting worse, well, you heard it here first.
Thursday, August 2, 2018
Have I Talked About My Broken Finger Yet?
Yeah, I think it's broken and I haven't done anything for it yet.
It's my left middle finger. But here's the thing. I first broke it (and I know it had to have happened then, even though I forget exactly when) when I was cracking my knuckles. I crack them at all angles -- back, forward, and to the side. When I got to my left ring finger -- not the middle, but the ring -- I didn't crack the knuckle. Instead, I yanked the finger out of the socket with the rest of my hand. Or at least I think I did.
It hurt like a mother, but I don't think I dislocated my ring finger, and it didn't hurt that much, so I forgot it. However, the next time I cracked my left middle finger knuckle, it hurt. Not excruciating pain, but I felt something that I don't feel in my other nine knuckles. Furthermore -- and this is even weirder -- it feels as though my left middle knuckle needs cracking all the time. I can be an obsessive knuckle-cracker, but I have never felt as though the knuckle needs it; I crack knuckles because I need it. But ever since I pulled my left ring finger, I can get some noisy cracks from my left middle knuckle easily, almost too easily.
And lately it's been hard to wrap my fingers into a fist; there is a tension in my left middle finger that wants to pull it straight. Also, and not for nothing, when I squeeze the sides of my left middle knuckle together, I feel pain. This may have coincided with me yanking that ring finger out a second time -- yeah, I'm careless. So I guess I need to get that checked out before something really bad happens to it. And maybe then I can figure out how I injured my left middle finger after bending out of shape my left ring finger.
It's my left middle finger. But here's the thing. I first broke it (and I know it had to have happened then, even though I forget exactly when) when I was cracking my knuckles. I crack them at all angles -- back, forward, and to the side. When I got to my left ring finger -- not the middle, but the ring -- I didn't crack the knuckle. Instead, I yanked the finger out of the socket with the rest of my hand. Or at least I think I did.
It hurt like a mother, but I don't think I dislocated my ring finger, and it didn't hurt that much, so I forgot it. However, the next time I cracked my left middle finger knuckle, it hurt. Not excruciating pain, but I felt something that I don't feel in my other nine knuckles. Furthermore -- and this is even weirder -- it feels as though my left middle knuckle needs cracking all the time. I can be an obsessive knuckle-cracker, but I have never felt as though the knuckle needs it; I crack knuckles because I need it. But ever since I pulled my left ring finger, I can get some noisy cracks from my left middle knuckle easily, almost too easily.
And lately it's been hard to wrap my fingers into a fist; there is a tension in my left middle finger that wants to pull it straight. Also, and not for nothing, when I squeeze the sides of my left middle knuckle together, I feel pain. This may have coincided with me yanking that ring finger out a second time -- yeah, I'm careless. So I guess I need to get that checked out before something really bad happens to it. And maybe then I can figure out how I injured my left middle finger after bending out of shape my left ring finger.
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
Waking Up At 5:30 Is Butt
Have to do it in order to get to work at 6:30 for training. Have no idea why I have to wake up so early, but that's my schedule at least for the rest of this week.
They say that overtime is plentiful at my job. If that's the case, then I will be OK with waking up at 5:30 in order to get to work at 6:30. And, yes, I'll wake up this early for training. Still, this is difficult on me and my body. Eesh.
They say that overtime is plentiful at my job. If that's the case, then I will be OK with waking up at 5:30 in order to get to work at 6:30. And, yes, I'll wake up this early for training. Still, this is difficult on me and my body. Eesh.
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