Why Did I Think Cleaning The Condenser Unit Would Be Easy?

When it comes to maintaining the AC, I didn't think it would be hard.  I studied up on cleaning the condenser unit.  What I did not take into account is screwing back in the lid.  I should have, because screwing things back in is never as easy as unscrewing them.

This whole rigmarole surrounding cleaning the outdoor unit was a pain in the ass.  I had to first get the water system up and running.  I got everything set up in the backyard, but forgot that the gate valve in the basement had to be turned on, and when I did, I heard this scary as hell banging as the water started flowing.  And then I went outside and the pipe leading to the spigot (where I hooked up the hose I used to rinse the unit) was dripping water like crazy.  I thought there was a bad leak, but it stopped, so (shrug).

I then was able to unplug the condenser.  I was able to yank the, and I just learned this is what it was called yesterday on YouTube, the cartridge in the outdoor breaker, and then the cartridge in the main circuit breaker in the basement.  Unscrewing the cover to get inside the condenser was easy.  Applying the cleaner seemed fine, even though I though there would be a lot more froth.  And the hose worked in rinsing off the cleaner.  But goddammit, I kept lining up the lid, but the holes through which I had to screw the screws wouldn't line up for all five screws.  I was getting both frustrated and hot, and that's not a good combination, so I went back inside to eat the rest of my chicken wrap and cool off.  I tried again, got three screws in, then said screw it with the other two screws.  Everything works and I finally turned on the air conditioning for the first time this year.  But I have two screws extra.

My bedroom is right above the unit.  I don't think it's noisier than it would be if it had all five screws in.

The Last-Ever Meal At Peter's Grill

I started this blog post just with the title.  It was July 3, 2013.

The place closed for good July 29, I think.  I had never been there, but after 99 years, a place that had a solid connection with Old Minneapolis was going to close, and I felt the need to connect to it.  And sure, maybe the irony of being a first-timer to Peter's Grill on its last day was too much for me to resist, but I went and, after a long wait where all the servers were too busy helping others and, I guess, trying to rectify the death of an institution that was a part of their lives for so, so long.

And I think I hesitated to write this blog post for so long because ... well, I eventually forgot.  But I remember taking a picture of my meal, and I wanted to, for the first time, post a picture I took myself in the blog post, but I never learned how to upload a photo onto Blogger.  And then I think I began hesitating as to whether I wanted to put a picture I took myself onto WAF for identity reasons.  Whatever the reason, I don't know where that photo is now; the ones on my cellphone go back only to 2014.

I remember sitting at the bar and I was told that all the food was gone by the time I got there.  I may have played the woe-is-me card because someone, and it very well could have been the owner, heard my sob story, went to the kitchen (and I could see into it from my barstool), and took what appeared to be a prepared dish.  I don't think it was going to be given to a customer; I got the impression that one of the workers prepared it for him or herself, either because they were hungry over their busy day or they wanted something to take home to eat and/or remember Peter's Grill by.  And this guy, presumably the owner, took that and gave it to me.  It was a tuna sandwich.  Can't say I was blown away, but it was, and is, important to me that I had a piece of Peter's Grill before it shut down.

But assuming that tuna sandwich was for someone else, I feel bad.  Sorry.

It was packed in there.  Which raises the usual issue that if it were packed before it closed, the restaurant wouldn't have had to close, now, would it?  But hey, it's a downtown restaurant, and those are vanishing by the minute because it's so hard to make money when you cater mostly to people coming to and from work.

I just read that the owner blamed food trucks for permanently crippling his business.  Well, this is also ironic, but as I have heard, there are no more food trucks in either downtown since the pandemic.  So many companies decided their employees could work from home during COVID that food trucks determined there was no longer money to be made downtown, either.  Maybe that has changed since we're now six years beyond the pandemic.  But I haven't heard of a glut of food trucks invading downtown Minneapolis every lunch hour.

You know, I assumed I would have more to say about the death of Peter's Grill.  Well, shelving this blog post for 13 years shortens the story, I guess.

I'm A Desperate, Horny, Forgetful Goddamn Lush

So I'm starting this blog post at a quarter to 4 in the morning.  I'm doing what I want to do over an extended holiday -- staying up, surfing the Internet, listening to music (this time terrestrial radio on my boombox).  But my cellphone is plugged into my power bank.  The fuckin' thing is pissing away energy.  I juiced it up to 80% last nigh, then unplugged it like you're supposed to, but then within, oh, half an hour of active doomscrolling, it couldn't even hold its charge for that long.  When it dipped to 76%, I plugged it in again, hoping I would unplug it once it reached 80% again.  But I knew there was a chance I'd be distracted by looking at my laptop, and of course I did.  It soared well past 80%, which I hear is bad for my phone (even though it's already in not-great shape).  At this point, if it's already past 80%, I might as well charge it all the way so I can delay when I need to charge it up again.

That's the forgetfulness I hate about me that reared its ugly head over the past 24 hours.  This past evening I made myself a cocktail, a margarita featuring juice from a lime that I bought over a week ago that may or may not have spoiled.  I drink too much already, so I'm trying to hew to the "1-2-3" rule Dr. Vivek Murthy recommended in his last days as President Biden's Surgeon General.  The problem, I realized while drinking the margarita, is that that was my fourth drink of the day.  I started off with a bloody mary in the morning while watching the English Championship Play-Up Match (won by Hull over Middlesbrough in a 95the Minute Goal), then had a cider at the United FC Match, then had a beer with a Farina Rossa pizza after the Match at a craft brewery.  And this is on the heels of drinking three drinks Friday ... and two drinks Thursday ... and two (or was it three?) drinks Wednesday.  All I can say is, I drink a lot.

Oh, MNUFC has a program where you can drop off pop tops at their waste receptacles.  I have a pile of them, and I was going to bring them with to drop them off, but I forgot to put them into my cargo pants.  I didn't leave them in my cargo pants because, unlike my denim jeans, my cargo pants don't have that fifth "watch pocket," and I didn't like the feeling of those pop tops jangling around inside a big pocket on my cargos and potentially falling out if I'm sleeping in my car and put my legs parallel to the ground.  But all day yesterday I reminded myself to put those pop tops in my pants.  But I didn't.  Oh, and then I took out the pop top on my Wild State cider intending to deposit it ... and I fucking forget to do that, too.  I meant to be rid of these pop tops, and I wound up collecting more.  And even though there will be a MNUFC2 Match at Allianz Field in one Month, the Loons are off because of the World Cup for two Months.  Fuckin' great.

And all the while I've been trying to see if I can arrange a fuck session with ****e.  Earlier last week I texted her; no answer.  I texted her again, saying I am free either today or tomorrow; she just said, "ok."  She gets this way sometimes, minimally responsive and vague.  I asked for clarity while eating pizza and eating beer last night, but she has yet to respond.  I'm horny enough that I want to make booty texts to all of my stripper girlfriends (even though a lot of them are out of town this Memorial Weekend, dammit) so I can get some lovin' this long, lonely weekend.  But ... fuckin' A, ****e is the only one who'll let me inside her, so I gotta give her every chance to get back to me.  But what if she's on one of her episodes where she ghosts me?

This weekend is supposed to be fun.  In many ways, it is.  And I am seeking every which way to find the negative in all of this.  Maybe that's a sign that I should fix myself instead of just rationalizing my decadence and inattention as part of enjoying the long holiday.  Or, maybe I should just say fuck it all.

A Sign -- Leaning Against A Dumpster, But Maybe From Above -- Told Me To Not Dump Illegally

Saturday I had a few things I needed to do.  Before scooting over to the bank to grab some money, I was going to take out the trash because the can is full.  Now, because I create such little waste (thank you very much for your applause) my parents cancelled trash service because it wasn't necessary.  We figure instead that I can just go to a gas station and throw it in one of their garbage cans, right?

But inattentive me drove past the gas station.  I saw the bank when I realized I forgot to dump the trash, but I was too exasperated to drive back to the gas station.  Not knowing what to do, what appeared before me, like an oasis in the desert, was this huge, industrial-size dumpster just outside the local clinic, which is right next to the bank.  Score!  So I didn't have to double back at all; I just parked and tossed the bag of trash into the dumpster.  Problem solved!

It was a long day for me, but it was a day filled with fun.  After attending the MNUFC Loss (I'll talk about it in the WMNSS), I went to a local brewery now known for showing Timberwolves playoff Games outside on their parking lot.  On my way from where I parked my car to the brewery, I noticed in a parking lot (this is located in an industrial area) a huge dumpster, one much bigger than the one at the clinic.  And there was what appeared to be a giant whiteboard or poster board leaning against it.  It has words on it.  I like to read things, and I had time before the Game started, so I broke off and walked down to the parking lot to read it.

Paraphrasing, it said, "Do not throw your trash in here.  That's illegal dumping.  We have cameras all pointed at this parking lot.  If you do dump your trash here, we'll find you, and we'll catch you.  So smile, you're on Candid Camera!"

Oh, shit.  I didn't think I would get in trouble, but a part of me thought while I was tossing in my bag that I wasn't absolutely sure I wouldn't get in trouble.  This may be serendipity or pure dumb coincidence, but I took it as a sign that I shouldn't throw my trash where I guess I'm not allowed to throw it.

So, once the Game was done (the Wolves won!), I went back to the clinic.  I was able to fish out the bag of trash, and, come to think of it, the gas station was on the way back home.  So I put it there, where I initially intended to toss it.  So, to use a basketball phrase, no harm, no foul, right?  Well, I'll see if the local police knock on my door in the next week for something I made right.

Forgot Shower Strainer

Right now I'm bothered (admittedly from other things too) that I failed to put a strainer in the master bathroom shower.  I had swapped out the one that was there and put that in the master bathroom sink, and I was going to toss the one that was in the master bathroom sink because it was getting all clogged up.  Somehow, I forgot to grab a new one (or an old one -- get this, My Father takes the time to unclog strainers in order to re-use them.  Yes, it saves money, and I put one of those cleaned ones in the shower, but I feel like this is a First World privilege that we should indulge in -- don't scrape shit off of a strainer, they're only two bucks apiece!), and worse than that, I put the plastic strainer that goes on top of the strainer back where it was, as if I had already put that second strainer back in.

Worst of all is I don't remember how long ago this all was.  I think, though, that it had to have been at least a month, and possibly it's been longer than that.  Lord knows how much of my hair and dead skin was able to get through that's currently clogging up the pipes.  Dammit, man, how could I forget something like that?  I had an entire process I needed to do, and I just stopped halfway through it.  What the hell was I thinking?

So after work yesterday/Saturday I went to the drug store to pick up something for Mother.  When I got back to my, I noticed my phone was missing.  Damn, I knew I left it at my desk.  So I drove all the way down to grab it from my desk ... until not to see it.  So I made a more thorough search of my car, and sure enough, my cell fell over to the side of my seat.

I need to, at the very last, find a cellphone case I can see coming a while away.  I like the one I have because it's durable, but it's black, and I need a color to stand out.  Hmmm ... maybe I will buy it here!

Where My Scatterbrained Stupid Self Pretty Much Fucked Everything Up

I want to think things went downhill as soon as Florida got upset by Iowa last/Sunday night in the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament.  I had them losing in the title Game.  With that pick gone to seed, I think my chances of winning either of my bracket pools has also gone to seed.

I got the notification from The Athletic while I was about to go into Target.  I had that 5% birthday discount I wanted to use, but I had been thinking all day on how to and even if I should use it.  I knew I wanted to buy baking soda and a new silicone scrubber to replace my dirty loofah (I should blog post about that loofah later).  But what else?  I need to maximize my discount by buying things I need to get, but I kept going back and forth about whether there are items I only wanted to get.  A circle lock, for when I rent out a second storage unit so I can finally really get down to organizing my stuff?  Well, they didn't have one.  Motor oil?  Nah -- I checked prices on my phone while I was in there; it's cheaper in a few other stores.  Should I get a lime?  I think I'll be out and about again next weekend, so it wouldn't make sense.  I swear there was something else I thought I needed to get, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember.  But I did remember the baking soda and scrubber, so that's what I got, and I was able to strike a whopping 60 cents off my total.  Happy Birthday to me!

And then I come home and, once I went into my bathroom, I realized there was something else I really wanted to get: Tea tree oil to put on the back of my head to get rid of the acne back there.  And I knew I was going to forget something when I went to Target.  I thought about writing a grocery list, but I didn't want to write it down, and I didn't want to bring a piece of paper with me.  Still, I knew there would be a good chance I would forget something, and still I didn't want to write anything down.  And so the tea tree oil I really want to buy I will have to buy without that 5% birthday discount.  I'm so ashamed I think I'll have to buy it at Wal-Mart, where I think it's probably a bit more expensive than if I bought it at Target, even without the 5%.  Can't walk back in to Target without hanging my head in shame.

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I just ate a Krispy Kreme donut with milk.  The Krispy Kremes were free through its application because it was my birthday.  But I didn't want to eat them all at once.  In fact, my OCD compels me to eat them only every other day.  And it turns out I skipped a day.  Hopefully the last one lasts till Tuesday.

Doughnuts, of course, go with milk.  And this quart of milk I had bought, hmmm, some time ago.  I thought it was still good because the use by date stamped on top of the bottlecap reads today/Monday.  So, just like I have done, I poured some milk into a bowl into which I dunk the doughnut.  Once I finish with the doughnut, I slurp up the rest.  But this time, motherfucker, it tasted funny.  And then I smelled it.  Honestly, it smelled kind of funky for, like, a week before today, but it smelled even worse now.  Goddammit, I think I just drank spoiled milk.  I dumped the rest out of the bowl, then dumped the rest out of the bottle.  I thought it would still be good!  But come to think of it, when I opened it for the very first time (I don't remember how long ago), I saw that part of the cap was already pulled away from its rim.  And maybe I'm being a hypochondriac, but I am feeling really dizzy right now.  A little dissociative, too, like I'm not a part of this body that is typing this right now.

But the thing that kills me (literally?) more than wasting milk is the fact that I had, oh, three weeks to finish off a quart of 2% milk and I couldn't fucking do it.  It was just a quart!  Maybe my lactose intolerance gave me second thoughts.  But I had plans on using a lot of it in a smoothie I was going to make.  I have the fruit in the freezer.  But I was going to make it only after I work out, and I've been too damn busy to work out, so I haven't made the smoothie, so I haven't used the milk that way.  Reminds me that I also have greek yogurt inside my refrigerator.  It has a stamped sell-by date of April 16, but that fuckin' stamp did me no favors with the milk, so for all I know, the yogurt's already bad, too.  Might need to bring it with me to work this week.

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You know what?  I thought I had a third thing I needed to blog post about illustrating how my dumb ass was fucking myself in another, but I forgot.  Oh, my self-destruction is so meta!

I Hate It When I Panic, And I Really Hate It When I Don't Have To Panic

I wasn't in a good frame of mind when I came home last/Tuesday night after the Timberwolves Game (which they won, even though they finally took the lead on The Bastard Vancouver Grizzlies just before halfway through the Third Quarter).  Naturally I checked the thermostat first thing when I got home.  And the thermostat was blank.

Ah, so the batteries ran out.  Well, Father bought a huge stash of AA batteries, so I replaced them.  But the thermostat still didn't work.  Oh, no.  The thermostat we have is just a programmable one.  It also has been there as far as I can remember.  It's been so long since it's been replaced, it makes sense that the damn thing just conked out.

Unfortunately, I suddenly realized I was in the lurch.  You can't really go without a thermostat, can you?  Well, I should take that back; if it were not too long ago, when the temperature was below freezing all day, not having the ability to heat the house with the help of a thermostat would be dangerous.  But we are, thankfully, having a mild (if not necessarily a heat) wave with temps punching into the fifties most days this week.  I have been told that you don't want to let the ambient temperature of the house drop below 60 degrees.  That would happen if it were below freezing, but probably not now when it's much warmer than that.

That would give me time.  To do what ... well, that's what I have been doing the next couple hours.  I ran into a YouTube video whereby you could hack the furnace on using this special two-way wire that does the work of a thermostat, including stopping when it reaches a certain temp.  But my main concern, obviously, is getting a new thermostat.  I tried looking for the exact type of thermostat, but that thing is damn old, so it's not in stock at any hardware store.  It's plentiful online, but that obviously would take time to get shipped, and as much as I think the house could survive without regular heat because of the milder temps, I don't know how long I want to tempt that.

Unfortunately, the thermostats that I could just go and buy are way, way different from the one that's in the house now.  First of all, I see these smart thermostats and they are way too smart for me.  Then, as I fell further down the rabbit hole of learning about the world of thermostats, I saw that the wiring pattern behind the thermostat is very, very important to note and even take a photo of.  Each brand and maybe even each model of thermostat will or might have a different configuration of the ends of the wires being plugged into its socket.  Moreover, the configuration of how the sockets are arranged vary by brand and even by model.  So if I bought one of these things off the shelf, I would have to unscrew the wires, unscrew the mounting plate, put the new mounting plate in (while making sure it's level), then carefully matching up the wires to its socket in the new configuration.  And I'm supposed to make sure the HVAC is completely unplugged while I do this, and I don't know how the hell to do that.  I was going to just wing it and do this intricate wiring work without shutting the power off to the HVAC.  Hey, I'm a big boy now, right?

Ultimately, though, I decided I was too chickenshit to do that.  My dumb ass was sure to get electrocuted.  And then I went on Amazon, saw this particular brand of thermostat, and then saw that magic word: "Prime."  If I sign up -- and, of course, it's only a free trial! -- I can get this same brand of thermostat delivered in two days.  I think the house can go without heat for two days in this weather, right?  So I signed up to get it this Friday.  I just have to remember to cancel Amazon Prime in 30 days because Amazon is the devil.  I just had to dance with him because otherwise I would have no heat.

With that bought ... well, why don't I try new batteries in the old thermostat again?  There are plenty down there, and maybe I just got two bad ones or something.  So I took that old thermostat downstairs, found two other "new" batteries, put them in ... and the display was back on.  Jesus fucking Christ, did I pick two new batteries that just didn't fucking work?  Or is this thermostat being so flighty that it just decided to work then and there?

So I have heat now, and it seems to be working fine.  I thought about cancelling delivery of the new/old thermostat and Amazon Prime.  But remembering how panicked I was, I'm keeping it.  This is a prime example where it's smart to have a back-up.  Of course, I have to remember that I have a back-up thermometer.  If this one conks out for real, there's a good chance I will forget I bought a replacement.  Where would I even put this one once it comes in?  Well, that's not the worst problem to have.

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I told you at the start of this blog post that I was not in a good frame of mind.  That's because of the car.  I'm scaring myself into thinking it's way too low on oil.  I have checked, or tried to check, the level a few times over the past week or so, but the goddamn thing is so hard to read.  I have a dipstick that has a plastic orange end.  It's hard to read when there's clear, new oil, and it's also a bitch to decipher because it seemingly has oil above the full dot and below the empty dot, and then it's completely drenched in oil on one side of the dipstick but completely dry on the other.

I checked the oil level before driving out of downtown after the Wolves Game.  The dipstick was how I described it above, and it wasn't the first time it looked like this.  So is my car completely tapped out of oil?  I can't believe that; I got an oil change about 2 1/2 months ago, and I don't think it's leaking oil.  And what if I have overfilled it, which is something I am scared as hell I have done if I fully believe what I saw on my dipstick these past few times, acted as if my engine was empty, but got suckered because it was in fact full, or even more than full?

I am in a bind.  Or, I have put myself in a bind of my own delusions.  I have blog posted before that I might be scaring myself into thinking I am about to do catastrophic damage to my car by doing and/or not doing something when the best thing I could do is just chill and drive.  Maybe that's the case here, and I should just relax ... no, fuck no, I need to take this into the dealership.  Maybe they can figure out how much oil is in my car without charging me for an oil change, or something.  And then they can teach me how to fuckin' read the oil level on their shitty dipstick.

And I am changing my mind on that, maybe.  I am leaning toward putting in just a little more oil.  Maybe that'll be the thing that finally gives me the results I want to see on the dipstick.  But what if I overfill it?  I've seen so many fucking disaster films.  Man, why do I have a car?  Why do I even drive?  It's just one more burden you're placing on yourself.

Deep breaths, trying to take deep breaths. ...

Don't Share A Bath Towel With Your Parents

So Thursday night I went down to the master bathroom to take a shower.  It had been several days since I washed myself (adhering to strict Chinese/Lunar New Year taboos), and I knew I had to use the one downstairs because I used the one upstairs the last time I showered.

But you add those two things up and you can see how I forget things.  Not, like turning on the faucet, but remembering what I have to bring downstairs from the upstairs (aka my) bathroom.  One of those was bringing in my own towel.  I only realized this, however, once I turned on the water in the shower.  Whoops, too late.

While I didn't bring down my own towel, there were two towels there.  They're my parents', and they left them there when they left for Vegas.  Great, I'll just use them ... except that I don't know whether they washed them before they began wintering out in Nevada.  Now, I use the master bathroom sink to brush my teeth, so when I dry my hands I dried them on those towels.  So sure, I maybe shouldn't complain about using dirty towels.  But there is a difference between using my folks' towels to dry my hands and using them to dry my body -- right?

Regardless, I had no choice.  So I picked one of the two towels and I dried myself with it.  I used it as if it were my own, but all the while I was imagining my parents coming out of the shower doing the same thing.  Ick.  Glad I bought a robe (and I should blog post about the robe I bought very soon); once I got all of the big wetness off my body, I dropped that towel and got into my robe.

So the towel is going to be washed by me soon.  The imagery of my parents using what I had just used ... well, I can't wash that out of my brain no matter how hard I try.

When Second-Guessing Is The Right Thing To Do

When I leave for work in the morning, I frequently forget something to which I need to shut down the car, open the front door to my house, and disarm the alarm in order to retrieve what I left behind.  It's usually my cellphone, so it's a pain-in-the-ass to do my steps backwards and then do them all over again once I find my phone.

This time around, once I turned my car on I forgot something else, namely an envelope Mother asked me to stuff with tax forms that had to be delivered here and not to my parents' condo in Las Vegas.  I wondered when I would have the time to get to a post office to send it.  We've been so busy at work that swinging by the post office close to me would be fruitless because they would be closed by the time I'm free.  I thought Sunday would be the earliest I could do it; I would be able to go down to ****e's place for a little screw time, then in the afternoon I could go to the post office at MSP before going home.

Two things wrong with that.  First, and I don't remember when I checked, that post office branch isn't exactly on the way back.  I would have to deviate east for a bit, then jog back west in order to head north.  Second, I would be downtown both last/Tuesday night (for a concert) and tonight/Wednesday night (for a Golden Gopher baseball Game).  The downtown post office closes in the evening, so if I get out of work early enough, I'd be able to go to the post office, mail the envelope to My Mother, then do whatever I want downtown because I'm already there.

In anticipation of that, I was going to throw that envelope filled with Mother's tax forms in my bookbag so I would have it with me if I had the time to send it.  But, alas, I forgot.  Oftentimes I would remember once I am more than halfway to work, and for those time I just mentally shrug and say to myself I'll do it tomorrow.  But once I remembered the envelope after I started my car, I just kept thinking that the moonshot of leaving work with enough time to mail the envelope and then go to the concert was a risk worth taking.  So, I turned off my car, went back inside, disarmed the alarm and picked up the envelope.

And good thing, too.  While I had to stay late at work, it wasn't late enough where I couldn't still get to the post office, pay to ship the envelope, find another parking spot, and walk for almost a mile to the club to get to the concert, which began at the strange hour of 6.  And so I did all that, and I caught the last couple songs of the first of three acts and the entirety of the other two (with a DJ filling in the set changes while stagehands haul off musical equipment).  Plenty of time.  Now, I think about how badly I would have screwed myself if I remembered the envelope before driving off to work but said whatever.  Glad I trundled back inside, because a sizable chore for Mother has been done.

Anyone Want A Water Filter?

It's not good that I can't track stuff that I've already bought.  I got water filters delivered because I know it's been about a year since it's been changed.  After I ordered some, I went into my storage unit and saw that I have about three left over from a previous order.  I think I will now have four extra once I get around to putting a new one in.  Oops.

Now, to be fair, I might have changed it in the fall and thus checked whether I had extra in my unit, but my parents were here and Mother had a bad knee, so I was preoccupied with that.  Also, maybe not in my defense, storing these in my unit makes for an "out of sight, out of mind" situation where I wouldn't've remembered ever buying these extra filters until I bought more.  Finally, for some reason, Father turned off the humidifier last year.  In fact, it may have been over a year in which he didn't turn it on.  However, inexplicably, it looks as though he turned it back on some time during my parents' extended stay back at home.  I noticed, and then I got around to remembering the filter needed changing when I got an alarm last week that water was leaking from the humidifier while I was at work.  I went home, opened everything up and, beyond needing to clean the apparatus of limescale and calcium deposits, the water filter needs to be replaced.  This was an instance of "out of sight, out of mind," but in plain sight.

Anyway, I have to change my water filter, then store the extras back in my unit.  Great.

On Money -- When I Spend It And When I Complain About Spending It

So work yesterday/Friday ended at 2.  Missed the regulation Game (Germany doubled up Denmark and thus will stay up in the Top Division), but saw Switzerland come from behind in The Second Period and defeat Czechia in the 3:30 Game I was able to buy a ticket and make it to, then (with a ticket I already bought, not at work less than two hours before puck drop like the Czechs-Swiss Game) witnessed Canada crush Slovakia in the 7:30 Game, 7-1.

I got a ticket for the 3:30 matchup on a scalper site for $18 or so.  I was curious, so Thursday I checked prices for the 7:30 Game.  I bought one just before the tournament started for ... um, just under $70, I think.  I assumed that that Game would feature Canada, and that Canadians would swoop in from up north to see this Quarterfinal matchup.  I bought it before the tournament because the prices were starting to rise after falling a bit, and I was afraid that Canada fans would finally snatch them up thinking that they would be seeing their team.  What I forgot to factor in was Trump wanting to annex the entire nation.  That idiotic talk convinced many Canadians to not vacation in the U.S.  I remember hearing so many resorts and convention bureaus say that the number of Canadians vacationing in their cities and towns have plummeted.  I remember this now, but I didn't remember it when I bought that ticket.  (That's probably due to all the bullshit coming from that asshole's mouth; you forgot the crap he said because he constantly says new crap.  Apparently, it's a strength of his.)  So I checked Thursday and I could get in for about $39.  Dammit.  Well, I chalked this mistake up to our dumbass President and the fact that this is the World Juniors we're talking about; I don't mind paying a premium for an event I probably will never attend again even though it turns out I overspent by about $31.

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So I blog posted on here before about buying World Juniors merchandise, and about whether I wanted to buy at Mariucci Arena, the pop-up store at the Mall Of America, or both.  There were a lot of things I tried to consider about whether and what to buy, all of it leading me to a web of confusion.  Foremost among them was price, of course, but another thing was scarcity, in particular whether an item is only in one place.  And I think my OCD kicked in, because I got really, really obsessed over that when I went to Mariucci yesterday/Friday to watch the Games.

When I went down to the Megamall last Saturday, I hemmed and hawed about several items I saw down there.  Eventually I decided not to buy the big tickets items, such as jerseys and hooded sweatshirts.  They were oversized and they had designs that I wasn't too keen about.  Oh, and the price, of course.

I bought two medium size t-shirts of the same design.  It was important to me to at least buy anything World Juniors-related that had the official 2026 IIHF World Juniors logo and the flags of the ten countries competing.  I also bought two because of my OCD: The plan is to wear one and to keep one for storage for ... I don't know what.  Anyway, I bought a pair.  I also bought a scarf which, sad to say, I forgot to wear Friday to Mariucci when I planned on doing so.

But back to the t-shirts.  I don't necessarily regret buying them, but I recognized the style of that t-shirt when I was going through the merch store at Mariucci.  I was afraid that they would have sold out at the arena, and that's why I bought it down in Bloomington, but it isn't "special" because I saw it at MOA and Mariucci.  On the other hand, there were many, and I mean many, items at the pop-up that I didn't remember seeing at the arena.

I went into the merch store before the Czechia-Switzerland Game to buy my stuff before the Canadians did.  I wouldn't say it was cleaned out, but compared to what I saw on Boxing Day, they went through a lot of stuff.  However, and damn my fuzzy memory, even though there were several items there that I didn't see down in Bloomington, I think I'm right in thinking there is more "unique" stuff down at the Mall Of America than at the store in Mariucci.

And yet ... the things I saw in Mariucci that I don't recall seeing at MOA I pretty much bought.  At first I got a winter hat with the logo stitched on it (I know I didn't see that at the Megamall) and a logo pin (don't recall seeing it at MOA, but it's a small pin, so I could've missed it).  But during the first two periods of the Czechia-Switzerland Game I was debating about whether to buy more stuff.  Well, I save a lot of money because my parents buy all the food we eat, so I indulged myself.  At the Second Intermission, I went back into the merch store and bought a light blue hoodie with just the big logo in front (I don't think they have that one at the Megamall ... do they?) and two more t-shirts.  This one design has the logo in the front and the flags of the ten countries in the back along with Paul Bunyan as a hockey player and Babe The Blue Ox as a Goaltender.  I liked the Minnesota tie-in.  And I know I did not see this particular t-shirt at MOA.

I have dropped about $200 in World Juniors-branded clothing.  I don't think I have spent so much money in memorabilia for a single sporting event.  There have been other big sporting events I've attended ... well, actually I worked a Super Bowl and a Final Four.  I don't know how ethical it would've been to buy stuff, especially I was, you know, supposed to be working.  But for the World Juniors I'm a fan, and like I said, I have money, so I am getting all this.

And dammit ... my OCD wants me to go back to the Mall Of America a third time to go into that pop-up store to look one more time at the "exclusive" stuff it turns out I could only buy there.  In particular there was this orange quarter-zip that had the logo blown up and in contrast in the back.  Now I feel bad that I didn't buy it then.  But that pop-up store closes either tomorrow/Sunday or Monday, and now I feel compelled to buy that -- or, if that's gone, maybe something else I can only get there.  I had plans to just go home immediately after the Vikings Game, but this is the World Juniors, so I've decided I can alter my plans, cut out early from U. S. Bank Stadium, drive down there before the mall closes, and take out my credit card to buy stuff marking this once-in-a-lifetime event ...

... unless there's nothing there for me to buy and/or it's too expensive and/or all the stuff there I saw at Mariucci, in which case it would be a waste of time but whatever, I need to see for myself.  And this is where I catch myself not being frugal.  I'll spend (or fritter away) money if it's for a big sporting event and if I think the stuff I can buy is "special."  And I will beat myself up after the fact when I begin to doubt whether it is "special."  My goodness, I can't buy anything without a tinge of regret.

What I'm Doing This Christmas Weekend; Christmas Song Review

It's not going to be much of a Christmas holiday for me.  I'm working today/Thursday/Christmas, and then, instead of just vegging at home, I've decided I am going to a few Hockey World Juniors Games, on Friday and Sunday.  I need to stand by my principle that I should go to things that might not come around here for a long time, and the Hockey World Juniors might not be in the Twin Cities ever again, at least not in my lifetime.  In fact, I changed my mind and bought tickets to not one but both Group Stage Games tomorrow/Friday at Mariucci.  I was going to go to Hooters at MOA after the afternoon Game, but as far as I know, Hooters will be around in 2026; the World Juniors will not.  I just need to figure out what I'm going to do inbetween Games.  Oh, and even though there are Games on Saturday, that's when I figure I'll just sleep in.  That's my time to relax for Christmas.

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Before I delve into this Christmas' Christmas song, I have to apologize for doubling up.  I was looking through past Christmas song reviews and didn't realize that I wrote about Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree" twice, last year and in 2019.  I don't know how I forgot I did it twice.  Sorry.  I will do better and check beforehand.

My Christmas song for 2025 is a challenging one because it's not originally a Christmas song.  It's "My Favorite Things," from the musical The Sound Of Music.  I'm still trying to understand how it accreted its Christmas meaning after it was made, but let me go through the chronology as I understand it.  I'm using articles from Mental Floss, Billboard, and Wikipedia (two articles) to research this.

The Sound Of Music first appeared on Broadway in 1959, with the song showing up in Act I, completely devoid of its current meaning.  The cast album was released that year and topped the Billboard charts for 16 weeks, then stayed in the Top 10 for the next two years.  Now here's where it gets weird: Julie Andrews, who plays the main character of Maria in the film adaptation of The Sound Of Music, performed "My Favorite Things" on a variety show on CBS called The Garry Moore Show at Christmastime in 1961.  Note that Andrews has no connection with the original stage version of The Sound Of Music.  She was eventually cast as Maria for the film version, but that was made in 1964 and released in 1965.  According to Wikipedia, a man by the name of Ernest Lehman was hired to write the screenplay in December of 1962.

It looks as though the "Christmasifying" (I'm taking that word from the Mental Floss article) of "My Favorite Things" came in 1964 due to, ironically enough, the film version of The Sound Of Music.  The music publishing division of the The Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization (Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the music and lyrics for the stage musical, their last together before Hammerstein died of stomach cancer in August 1960) knew the film adaptation was going to be released in March 1965.  It was being marketed as a tentpole movie (it would go on to win five Oscars, including Best Picture), but that publishing division wanted a song from that movie to become a hit before the movie came out, otherwise they were afraid the movie wouldn't make any money.

Someone from the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization went to a music producer named Mickey Kapp to see if there was a way to get a song from The Sound Of Music into any album Kapp was producing.  He told the representative that he was currently producing a Christmas album for a singer named Jack Jones; Jones, who died in October 2024, sang the theme song to The Love Boat, by the way.  This rep thought that "My Favorite Things" would be a good song for Jones to sing and for Kapp to add to the album, which is called The Jack Jones Christmas Album.

But why "My Favorite Things" for a Christmas album?  Well, that's where you listen to the song and note all the references to winter and Christmas, or at least references that lend themselves to the season and the holiday if you imagine big enough: "Warm woolen mittens"; "Brown paper packages tied up with strings"; "Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes"; etc.  Who knows if Rodgers & Hammerstein picked up on the Christmas allusions when they wrote the song.  But Kapp, sticking to the original context of "My Favorite Things," said it wasn't a good idea to put it on a Christmas album because it wasn't a Christmas song.  To which this promoter said, "Just add sleigh bells."

Well, Kapp did add sleigh bells, and Jones sang the song, and "My Favorite Things" was put into The Jack Jones Christmas Album, and ... it looks like it didn't become a hit, nor could people directly credit that song for people buying tickets to The Sound Of Music, the movie.  But people in the music industry apparently saw "My Favorite Things" as a Christmas song then, and thought it was good, because from then on other artists did their own version of "My Favorite Things" for their Christmas albums, and it then became the standard holiday song it is now.

But I'm not going for Jack Jones's or Julie Andrews's or even the original version of "My Favorite Things."  I love, and I mean love, John Coltrane's cover of it.  It swings so effortlessly, and my Buddha, his playing after the verses lifts me up to the sky.  I shouldn't leave out McCoy Tyner; his revolutionary piano playing on the song is a heaven-sent complement to Trane's virtuosity.  Only in the past year or so have I realized I now have a song that makes me feel happy every time I hear it.

And here's the ironic part of that: The album "My Favorite Things" is on (and the album is named after the song) was released in March 1961 -- a couple years after the stage musical premiered and almost four years before Mickey Kapp and Jack Jones put it on a Christmas album.  It wasn't a Christmas song when Coltrane recorded it, and yet you hear it come Christmastime.  I can't call this "retconning," short for retroactive continuity, but maybe this phenomenon could be called, uh, retroactive meaning-making ... or something?

OK, maybe not.  But here's John Coltrane doing "My Favorite Things."  Get happy, and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays:

Her Mistakes Are Actually Ours

Work is kind of wonky the last two weeks of the year, as I believe it is in many other places.  The workload lessens because it's the holidays, but there are less people also because it's the holidays.  I always make the mistake of believing that because of the work, things will be lighter.  Not so.  Because there are so many people who are taking the week off, the remaining few have to take care of the work, as meager as it may be, by themselves.  So, all in all, it's a wash, and so I had a full day.

The Third Department by itself still has its moments even if it's been easier since the winter.  I thought I got pretty much everything done at a reasonable time.  However, while I was digging through a crate of work so I could put a folder where it needed to be, I pulled out a specimen that needed to go into testing.  It was held up because one person in our laboratory specifically needed to do something for it.  I remember touching this first on Friday.  I put a Post-It note saying that the person taking care of this on Saturday needs to speak to her about this.  But as I was leaving work yesterday/Monday, I see that these forms for this specimen weren't taken care of.  Instead, the person who was going to do this on Saturday wrote a note on the same Post-It saying that the person would be in on Monday, presumably indicating that she wasn't there on Saturday.  Well, this person was there yesterday/Monday, but I didn't fucking know that this wasn't taken care of, and by the time I saw these forms, the person I needed to speak to left for the day.  Goddammit.

Sure, I guess I'm responsible because I should have looked through everything before the end of the day.  But I'm gonna say it: I'm really peeved that this person just shoved this specimen, which should have gone into testing well before yesterday/Monday, back into the file where I couldn't see it.  She should know working the same position I am that you are just too damn busy with everything new that's coming in, from both e-mails and the lab.  Why would I need to look through a file for work?  What she should have done (and this is just coming from me) was to flag it -- put it on top of the crate or even my desk.  That way I know that this is a special case (which it is) that I need to pay special attention to.  I remember specifically throwing that test on her desk when I left on Friday.

No, it's not her fault.  But this points to something else that's troubling: I have seen her make mistakes in this job she shouldn't be making.  Another thing I noticed during work yesterday/Monday is that she doesn't keep track of the calls she makes.  One of our jobs is to retrieve information, and we are supposed to document what we have done to retrieve that info (calls and e-mails) so that, if someone else needs to step in and pick up the trail, we can do so easily.  Twice during work I saw there are literal forms that the lab needs to get.  I know through another program we use that my co-worker did make a call.  But we have other software to which we are supposed to document that we have called this place and/or we e-mailed this person.  That way we know what has happened and can avoid doing something twice.  That gets a bit more difficult to do if she doesn't state in this program what she has done.

She is the one who got hired over the summer, so I want to think that she just forgot.  Hell, I make mistakes in The Third Department all the time, still.  But I'm sure she was trained that she needs to document what she's done.  And yet, putting these two issues together, is there a possibility that she wasn't trained to document her trail, and didn't understand that these forms are important enough that she should have laid it on my desk so I could see it first thing in the morning?  If so, that's a failure in training, and that is why it sucked that my former supervisor moved on.  She could've used so much more seasoning, and my supervisor knew all the ins and outs of working that position.  I wonder what, if anything, she didn't teach her before she left, let alone what my colleague has now forgotten because my former supe isn't around to reinforce what she taught her.

And this will get worse now that my boss is leaving.  He, frankly, doesn't know much about this position.  But he was at least in a position of authority to find out, and he did the best he could answering all of our questions, including hers.  With him gone, I'm not sure our new boss (whoever he or she will be) will know how to fix any mistakes she makes.  That person might not even have the time to care.  And so I can see a case where my co-worker will continue to make mistakes because we couldn't or didn't step and tell her what she needs to do.

I/We have till New Year's Eve to tell my/our boss to tell her what she needs to do, and then we are all off on our own.  Don't know if it's going to be enough.  My frustration over seeing something that could have and should have been done already may very well continue unabated.

I've been so busy with work and taking care of Mother and my sister being in town that I have yet to follow up with my clinic about the blood tests I took and the referral for physical therapy.  I've been meaning to do it, but I've been sidetracked by, well, everything.  And now I just remembered that I need to write down on the family calendar when I can't come home for dinner.  Gosh, things continue to get away from me.

Yes, this is a short and pithy blog post.  But it's all I have time for.  Sorry.

My Sister Knows Too Much

So my sister Thursday night busted me for not putting aside the bathmat.  My Mother is using the upstairs bathroom because for now she's confined to one floor and she should where the food is.  But she's still using a walker, which means that any loose object on the floor can trip her up.

My sister had warned me to put the mat away once I was done in there, but I forgot after I took my shower.  She told/admonished me through my bedroom door, and she specifically told me that she was just going to leave the mat there for me to put away.  I guess I can't complain about her move too much, but in the context of siblings calling siblings out, I'm still quite peeved.

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Just to blow off some steam, I tried to look at porn Thursday night, too.  But the damn pop-up ad started off with a woman moaning in ecstasy as the guy stuck himself inside her, and I was listening to Halloween music on YouTube when that fucking happened.  And my sister's bedroom adjoins mine; we share a wall, and both our beds push up against that wall.

Did she hear?  I assume she has, even though she may be asleep.  I turned the sound down on my computer as soon as that porn star screamed, but it may have been too late.  My sister's smart and observant; she hears everything.

I love her, but I'm getting to the point where I wonder when is she leaving.

Oh, It's On TV.

So there was that epic, 15-Inning, winner-take-all Game 5 American League Division Series Friday night, where Seattle finally outlasted Detroit.  I got home from the escape room (successfully, I want to add) and eating late with my sister, and I was scrolling through when I saw that the Game, which began around 7, was still going on.  I think this was around 11 p.m, and there's nothing like extra innings in playoff baseball, so I hurriedly turned on my satellite radio to hear the rest of the Game.

Hell of a Game.  Great ending.  I think I caught the last three Innings (so, since the 12th?), and both teams had ample chances to break through and score, but the Pitching and Defense came through.  And I don't mind listening to sports on the radio, don't get me wrong.  But after the Game was over and I was scrolling through social media again (aside: I have strayed from my vow to get off social media ... and frankly, I don't know if I have the willpower to stay away), I saw a tweet or a skeet that Fox signed off at around 12:48 a.m.  Fox has TV rights for the American League side of the playoffs ... and that's when I remembered that Fox/Channel 9 was showing the Game.  I could have just turned on the TV instead of my satellite radio.

How did I get used to thinking a sports Game I want to keep up with won't be on broadcast television?  Actually, now that I think about it, most Games aren't on broadcast TV.  Oh, well.

I have to note that it's been unseasonably hot around here this week.  It was in the low-to-mid eighties earlier this week, but this weekend will really bring the heat: We have and will reach 90.  Thank Buddha it isn't humid (or at least too humid), otherwise it would be completely oppressive.  I can't cool down without the fan, but we haven't turned on the air conditioning, and I don't think we will need to by the time the temperatures plummet some time Sunday.

In the meantime, I was strolling through the Friday Open Thread on online alternative weekly Racket.  This week's topic: What is your hot take when it comes to food?  There were a lot of comments, I read them all, and then I think I spent an hour spilling all of mine.  I spent so much time crafting my post that I missed the 2 a.m. cutoff for staying at Day 7/400% on Zynga Poker.  Back to square/Day 1.  Oh, well.

You know what sucks?  Being eliminated from a fantasy game because you forgot.  I entered two Eliminator fantasy games that my friend is running.  Eliminator games are games where you pick one NFL team to win every week in the regular season.  If that team loses, you're out.  The trick is that you can only pick a team once.

Very intriguing idea.  Whoever thought that up, and I think this was only this side of the millennium, needs to be in the Pro Football Hall Of Fame or something.  But if you don't put in a team every week, you are automatically eliminated.  And that's why I did, or didn't do, in the second Week of the NFL season.  I was busy and distracted, and I knew I had to do my ESPN Eliminator, and I did, but I forgot I signed up for my friend's other Eliminator game on Yahoo! Sports.  I was able to remember doing the ESPN Eliminator on my ESPN Fantasy app, but I forgot to do my Yahoo! Eliminator on my Yahoo! Sports Fantasy app.  And that is ironic also because I don't have anything going on fantasy-wise on ESPN, but all my fantasy football teams are on Yahoo! Sports.  So why didn't I just look through my fantasy teams and then go on and do the Eliminator?  Maybe because I forgot I had an Eliminator through Yahoo!  (sigh)

I used to do Eliminators with money, and I forgot to make my weekly pick, so I got eliminated in pools in which I sank money.  And that was just wasting money, so I stopped doing that.  Maybe I should just, you know, remember to do them?  Nah, I'll probably forget.

Sensitive Content?

My last blog post, my weekly Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey, was given a warning by Blogger.  Why?  Sensitive content.  Sensitive content?

I have had this warning from time to time before.  It has been a while, but for that while, several of my blog posts were flagged.  I had somewhat of an idea that it had to do with my descriptions of encounters I've had with my stripper girlfriends, but I wasn't quite sure. To be free of the warning, I re-did some of the blog posts to edit out the graphic (or what I think were the graphic) words, then submitted them to Blogger again for a review.  I think a couple of my blog posts were cleared and allowed to publish freely.  I don't know about the rest of them.  And honestly, there have been more than several where I thought I would circle back to them to see what was "wrong" with them, but then I just forgot.

So I was reviewing my WMNSS, and then I looked at the warning note.  I don't know whether the action taken by Blogger changed or if I just didn't read it close enough, but when I saw the warning icon, I thought my offending blog post was de-published, and I had to clean up the language so I could get it posted.  But now that I read the community note, yesterday's blog post was published, but put behind a warning interstitial webpage that it contains "sensitive content."  Well, shoot, if that's the action Blogger is taking, hell, I'm not gonna change a damn thing.  I don't think that's censorship, and besides, why would I be worried about the number of pageviews I have?  I don't have any!

Now I think all those flagged blog posts in the past weren't taken down but just put behind warnings.  Why then did I go out of my way to clean up the language in some of those blog posts when I slaved over the precise words I wanted to use?  Because of my oversight, I think I censored myself, and that's just dumb of me.