I Definitely Have Brain Rot

Woke up this morning to the sound of my sprinklers going.  Now, lately I've (or my body has) gotten into a pattern of going to sleep and waking early (at least when compared to when I usually go to bed).  But this/Sunday morning, man, I think I would've been able to sleep in ... if not for the damn sprinklers being my alarm clock.  I don't need an alarm clock this morning, especially since I did need one yesterday/Saturday because I was working.

The sprinklers were on because I turned on the sprinkler system yesterday/Saturday because I wanted them to water the lawns while I was off to work and not in the house.  I just forgot to shut the system off last night so it wouldn't wake me up.  And I forgot because I have brain rot.  I got home late from dinner after work last/Saturday night, and sure, I went off for some late night Taco Bell, too.  Oh, yeah, there was a lot of soccer I was watching, too.  (Hey, the Loons won -- whadathunkit!)  But I spent the vast majority of my evening doomscrolling.  Goddammit, man, my mind has atrophied not due to old age but because I'm on my fucking phone all the time, filling my brain up with short dopamine hits of what gets me off.  I think that if I wasn't so addicted to my phone, I would be way more attentive at doing things, like chores, or just remembering stuff, like turning off the water sprinkler system.  Shit, I have a bunch of things I should do now, and yet my cellphone is just waiting for me like a dealer in the alley.  And of course I'm going back to him -- definitely some time today, and possibly right after I blog post this.

I have a lot of stuff to do -- going through my stuff, the laundry, etc.  And I do want to fix the sprinklers; after I did a couple heads in one section of the front lawn last weekend (at least I think they're fixed), I want to try to fix the other heads in the front lawn.  But I wanted to do it on my own time ... well, my body's time, but my body was forced to wake up to the sound of the sprinklers out front, and I think because of that, I will be tired later on this evening when I want to go out.  May be overdramatizing, but maybe not.

Need to stop looking at screens and start looking at real life.

The Triumphant Return Of VEF!!!

OK, so I was about to do a blog post where I fell asleep at a decent time again (if you count 11:30 as a decent time) and trying to figure out when and how to fit in dropping off the wood pallet at my unit, getting a massage, going to my favorite speakeasy, and having visits from two stripper girlfriends, all before the State Fair begins.  (Still haven't figured it out yet; I might blog post about it later this week.)

But the days has already started out great, because VEF is back!  It was gone for over a month, and my God, it's like a druggie being in withdrawal.  Around the same time I saw a bunch of other porn sites put up those "I am 18+" verification boxes before you'd get to the homepage, and I thought VEF getting suddenly taken down had something to do with that.  I don't know all the details as to why and how, but that was not the case here.  All I know is I was up at around 5:30 this morning, I needed to blog post, I thought I would take another shot at VEF, and voila! it's back!!

I hadn't realized how much I've relied on VEF.  As other things remain out of place, I am so happy that I have this back in my life!!!

How Did Draining The Water Heater Go?

Well, I haven't burned the house down and I have hot water, so I don't think I've fucked up severely!

But the problem is I don't know if I did it right.  See, as I drained the water, I didn't see any dirty water.  I was initially putting this supposedly bad water in buckets to note how dirty it was, but the first few bucketfuls were completely clear.  That's when I decided to take out a garden hose from the shed, attach it to the short leader hose I also found in the shed, connect them (with a bit of difficulty; I sprayed some water all over the floor, dammit), and laid the other end in the floor drain in the laundry room.

I think I waited half an hour before it appeared as though the water from the hose slowed to a trickle.  I also checked where the garden hose connected to the leader hose, which I put in a bucket to collect the water coming out of the poor connection.  That seemed to also slow to a trickle, and that Internet tells me that means the water heater is completely empty.  So, I began flushing it by opening up the water valve for between five and 20 seconds and then shutting it off.  That start and stop is supposed to rustle up any sediment that settled in the bottom of the tank of the water heater so it could be sucked out of the drain plug.

At first, the water was dirty -- well, not brown like I was afraid it would be, but not as clear as the water that was taken out of the heater.  So I dumped the first bucket in the front yard while I took out a second bucket in which to continue to drain the tank.  Once in a while I would open and shut the water valve.  And the water continued to be dirty.  What it didn't appear to do, I'm afraid, is get better.  I kept dumping out bucket after bucket for, I believe, 45 minutes.  And while I could trick myself into thinking it was getting clearer, it was not getting clear.

I didn't know what to do.  I Googled and the damn AI said that this flushing method should take no more than 15 minutes.  Then why in the hell was I still getting brown-ish water after flushing for damn near 45 minutes?  Could it be the buckets I'm using making it look not clear?  They buckets aren't clear.  They're white; maybe that's the issue?

I stopped at a quarter to 11, about 2 1/2 hours after I started this ordeal.  Not because I was done, but because I indeed did not know what to do.  I closed the drain plug and opened up the water valve all the way.  After dumping the last bucket and wrapping up the garden hose I used, I saw that all the faucets I left open while doing this gravity drain was gushing out water and not air.  I didn't think that took a long time, however, so I kind of wonder whether I emptied the whole tank after all.

Oh, well.  It's all over.  Maybe I don't have to do this maintenance every year like I thought I needed to.  Me spilling water everywhere, because of the bad connection of the hoses and because of spilling hoses and the filled buckets on the floor, is something I don't want to revisit.  But I have just extended the life of the water heater -- maybe?

Eggplant Emoji Or No Eggplant Emoji?

So I'm Facebook friends with this hot woman who is not a model (at least I don't think) but is a swimwear designer.  She takes many photos of herself in her creations.  She's got a great body, but it's not as if she's showing off her ass or anything, which in my opinion is nudity.  So while she's beautiful, it never gets to the point where I have the perverted urge to send her an eggplant emoji.

Yesterday/Tuesday her Reels pop up.  She's in her swimsuits again, only this time she has a younger woman with her.  She never says, but I suspect she's her daughter.  And she's modeling her (maybe) mom's swimsuits too.  She's fucking hot as well, and this time, she's showing off her ass.

Two hotties, one of whom showing her bare ass?  Yeah, that's enough for me to send an eggplant emoji -- actually two, one for each of them.  But then I paused.  Do I really want to do that?  I scroll through our Messenger to see if I sent her eggplant emojis before -- I haven't.  If I give her the double eggplant, will she be mad at me?  Worse yet, would she show her followers what I Messengered her?

I hope not, but I can't take that risk.  So despite my horniness, I decided not to respond.  It makes me sick to my stomach that I'm censoring myself.  But I'm getting older, though, and maybe more paranoid.

Golf Or Soccer?

Tonight was where my paralysis is at its worst.  I don't know what to do between two things I want to do, and the variables are either so even or so unknowable that I am completely a waste.  Since I got home (early) from World Cup viewing I took a nap and surfed the Internet.  All because I cannot decide if I want to drive all the way to Chaska to watch the Women's PGA Championship in Hazeltine, or watch the first Round of 32 World Cup Matchup between Canada and South Africa at this new Mediterranean place close by me.

One of the main things I use to determine what I should do is figuring out the chances I'll be able to do it in the future.  While the World Cup is every four Years (and I'm just watching it on TV), who knows the next time a golf major comes to town.  Using that factor, I should be going to the Women's PGA, and it's a no-brainer.

But there are a lot of things that are making me balk.  One is the weather.  It's supposed to get very humid starting today/Sunday, with dewpoints bursting through the seventies in the afternoon.  I am not a fan of humid weather, and I don't know if I can stomach sweating through my clothes for a few hours (at least).  Compare that with when I went to Sunday Singles at the Ryder Cup, which was also held at Hazeltine.  That was held in late September, and there was no heat or the humidity to contend with then.

What may be more of an annoyance, however, is that I don't necessarily find watching golf in person all that enjoyable.  I remember I went to the 3M Classic (when it was part of the Seniors Tour, not the current 3M Open for the PGA) a few times because it was at the course close by and it was free.  That was in the dog days of summer, and my goodness, it was hot.  I was able to endure, but it kept dawning on me that I'm doing a lot of walking around and a lot of sweating, and it overpowered any joy in watching great golfers play.  Also, and this may be too obvious, but golf courses are big.  You have to walk miles if you want to watch the whole thing.  And I don't know the first thing of the layout of Hazeltine.  Sure, there will be maps of the course, but I'm bad at directions.  Also, I don't know who I want to follow.  Should I just park myself at the 18th green?  What if the tournament is decided before then?  And how about the sightlines?  Will I be able to see anything besides the backs of people's heads?

Still, it's a major.  And while I won't know exactly how it'll feel tomorrow, I kept checking the forecast and it has said, for at least the past few days, that temperatures will hit 80 in the afternoon and the sky will be cloudy.  Considering the dewpoint, if the forecast called for sun, no way would I go.  I would not be able to deal with it being that humid and having the Sun beat down on me.  But overcast?  Yeah, it'll be 80 degrees and it'll feel swampy.  But I won't feel like I'm frying from the Sun's rays.  I might have a chance to at least tough it out.

There are other determinations, too.  If I'm going to watch the soccer Match, the place is so, so close.  I could drive the minivan and give my car a rest.  And speaking of my car -- I finally had the chance to check the oil in my car inbetween Games yesterday/Saturday, and the damn stick was dry.  I poured half a quart of oil and checked later, and then I saw some oil on the dipstick.  But it kind of freaked me out, and that is making me think I should give my car a break.  Finally, I really, really do need to do chores (going through my stuff and washing dishes mostly), and I won't do it if I have a 40-minute drive back from Carver County and am too pooped to do anything once I get home.

Still, it's a major.  So I am going to sleep on it and, depending on when I wake up and what the sky looks like and how hot it feels, I'll either make the drive to watch the best female golfers in the world play in my neck of the woods or I'll just puss out and watch soccer while eating shawarma ten minutes away from me.  These are the days where I want some deity to give me a sign that definitely tells me to do this or that.  Why can't I have that?

Is It Worth Dealing With Traffic?

I am at to this library that's not close but close enough.  But I have to use the highway to get there.

While driving here, I see the traffic on the highway coming back completely backed up.  There are road crews that are doing something that requires shutting down the left-most lane.

Thing is, I see all this and have chances to take exits that get me home right away without getting stuck in all that.  I didn't take them.  I didn't turn around.  I figure I can just go on Google Maps and they'll find a way of getting me home.  But if not, I am driving the old minivan and will be stuck on the highway for a while, looks like.

So why am I going to the library?  Well, to blog post on my day off.  But also to sharpen my pencils.  This is the only public place I know close to me that has a public pencil sharpener.  I'm going to see Ohtani and the Dodgers play tonight/Wednesday night and I need to sharpen my pencils to score the Game.  That is enough for me to drive out here and sit in traffic on the way back.  Or am I being foolish?

He's A Little Bitch

So I stumbled on this account on Bluesky that tracks and notifies you when someone blocks you.  I didn't seek it out, but like I said, I just came across it, and without thinking about it beyond saying to myself, "You know, I might want to know who hates me," I followed it.

There is a guy I follow.  This little bitch will remain nameless so my dissection of him (hopefully) remains untraceable.  He's a local person who likes sports and keenly follows the Lynx.  I like the Lynx and local sports, so I followed him.  He skeeted the World Cup schedule, specifically that there are quadruple-headers from today/Sunday until Tuesday, then tripleheaders where two Matches go on simultaneously for the next three days after that.  All I said -- all I said! -- was that this was a soccer orgy.  A little later, the block Bluesky account told me that this snowflake blocked me.

For what?!  I just wanted to confirm with him that he regarded it as a soccer orgy.  What the fuck is the problem with that?!?!  Does he not think my wit is refined?  Does he hate the word "orgy?"  What the fuck is wrong with him?!?!?!  So I did the mature thing and blocked his ass in return.  And then I worried about all the other Lynx/Minnesota sports accounts I follow on Bluesky and wonder if they would take his side over mine.

And then I had to stop myself and remember something all of us too often forget: This is social media.  This is the fucking Internet.  I don't know this guy.  I like (well, liked) his stuff, but I don't know him.  And even if I am butthurt, I have to remember that this guy doesn't know who the fuck I am and doesn't give two shits about me even if I did like and repost every skeet he made.  So even though it hurts to seemingly be rejected by someone whose work I admire ... I'm getting bent out of shape over some motherfucker I don't know.  Why am I so upset?

Maybe it's better to be ignorant.  Maybe it's better to not know who blocks you on Bluesky.  But once I realize this doesn't affect my life in any meaningful way, I'll get over it.  But he's still a little bitch.

Too Many Oranges

Yesterday/Tuesday evening, helped by the fact that I got out of work early (I had to stop by the local grocery store to get a chicken breast on sale, but even with that I got home earlier than I usually do these days), I ate the final part of the last of five oranges I bought two weeks ago.  I've read on the Internet that you don't want to eat oranges that have been in the fridge for that long, but they tasted like oranges (even though the taste was a tad off) and hey, I haven't gotten sick after eating any of them, including the one yesterday/Tuesday evening.

I bought these at the discount grocery store, so I got, or felt I got, a bargain.  Also, I bought five of them because I wanted to make sure I had enough orange juice to make all the cocktails I wanted to make.  Well, I made one mimosa and one monkey gland, and still I have to eat, oh, three of the five oranges like they were, you know, oranges.  I shouldn't complain; they're a great source of vitamin C, of course.  But I way overestimated the number of oranges I needed for cocktails.  Need to cut back next time.

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.

Making My Schedule Based On Time, Money, Car Vibes, And Semen

Fitting my schedule to accommodate chores, outings, and time with my stripper girlfriends have just overwhelmed me.  I need to budget my time, I need to make sure I have enough money to do everything I want to do, I'm getting kind of freaked out over driving everywhere because of the obscene price of gasoline, and, most important of all, I need to make sure I'm able to cum on demand.

It's the stripper girlfriends where all of this comes to a head (in a manner of speaking).  I wanted to get with ****e for the longest time, and I thought last weekend was it, but she didn't answer my texts in a timely manner.  Finally, last weekend she said that this weekend was good.  After some back-and-forth, I am supposed to see her tomorrow/Sunday.  Then, ***e* blindsided me by telling me she was in town this weekend and wants to cum visit.  Not a great time, but I slotted her in for this/Saturday morning.  I don't know if my penis can perform back-to-back, but consider ***e* is only here this weekend and I already promised ****e, I kind of have to turn back the clock.

On top of all that, I've been going back-and-forth with my ATF regarding a massage.  I thought Monday would work, but when I texted her that I would be home Monday, my goddamn cellphone auto-corrected it to I would be gone Monday.  I caught it last/Friday night and said that I could be available after the weekend, and she apparently agreed.  Phew!  (By the way, if my ATF surprises me by doing something freaky, it won't matter that I shot the day before.  I know that, even in my advanced age, surprising trysts with women for the first time will have me ejaculating left and right!)

Now, beyond having fun (which seems kind of forced right now), I have things I need to do -- stuff like getting a shave, replenishing my alcohol, and seeing my junior prom date at the cemetery.  But before all that, I have stuff around the house I need to do -- stuff like getting my irrigation system up and running and, more importantly, cleaning my outdoor condenser unit.  Summer jumped me this week, and even though I partly am backing off on turning on the air conditioner because I don't want to spend money (being the primary caretaker of a house now turns you into a miser, believe me), I think it's high time I clean the outdoor condenser.  After all, my ATF should be giving me a rubdown on Monday, and I want her to be as comfortable as possible.  Running a fan won't be enough to cool her down, and besides, I want to close the windows in case she touches me to the point where I start screaming.

But I've never done it before.  I've looked through the YouTube videos, and I know I should clean out the debris that's inside it, then use a cleaner to clean the coils from the inside out, then use a hose to rinse it from the inside out.  But, they suggest I cut the power.  And even though I have turned off both the thermostat and the AC, I have no idea how to cut off power from the circuit breaker right next to the condenser unit.  I open up the cover and all I see is a metal loop.  What the hell is that?  Oh, well.  I think I am going to try and clean everything after I just turn off the AC and thermostat.

Oh, wait ... I can't hose the unit down after I clean everything because I haven't connected the water yet.  And I can't do that until I screw the nut into the, um, thingy that was pulled out in the fall in order to winterize our irrigation system.  I tried screwing it by hand, but I can't screw it in tight, so some time this/Saturday afternoon I am going to get a wrench and twist it in.  Then, I can use the water, and then I can begin cleaning the condenser because I can then rinse it.  Will I get this all done in one afternoon?  Who knows?  I might screw up, or hesitate at a step and decide screw it, I'll just turn the whole AC on.  I'm keeping my options open.

How does driving fit into this?  Shaving involves me driving in one direction, shopping for alcohol and visiting my deceased prom date means I need to drive in the other.  I do not want to drive both directions this/Saturday afternoon, especially if I need to do this thing with the condenser and irrigation system.  Since I'm seeing a friend next week, I think I'll get my shave and do everything else next weekend.  I think.  I'm keeping my options open!

Yeah, I'm busy.  And I haven't even mentioned sleep.  I want to budget one day where I can sleep in.  But I have to get up at a certain time to make sure I go out to the bank to get money today/Saturday to pay ***e*, and then I have to wake up at a certain time tomorrow/Sunday to drive over to ****e's place because she asked me to.  I won't like being woken up by an alarm up to a dozen days in a row (through next Saturday, when I'm supposed to meet this long-lost friend for which I'm getting my face shaved).

Gosh, I'm dealing with a lot of moving pieces I need to fit over the next two weeks -- and that's just for now, who knows what else is coming down the pike.  I know it's not serious in the big picture, but right now it feels serious to me.

Car Fluids Spoil??

Yesterday I learned that motor oil goes bad if you don't use it after a certain point.  You know, maybe I should've known better, but I thought that motor oil, you know, never goes bad.

That may be why the big jug of oil Father used never seemed to work when I put it in my car.  The level on my dipstick never went up, and if I didn't put in more soon after I put in some, I felt enormous stress that I should.  It seems as though I never have an issue seeing the oil level in my engine go up after I use one of the newer quart bottles I have in the back of my car.

But I continue to look through the Internet for tips on using motor oil that's been lying around.  I've seen sites that say that you should dump motor oil if it's been open for year, others two years, still others five.  I was of the mind of giving the leftover oil in our garage to the county hazardous waste site, but some corners of the World Wide Web say I can still use it.  So, what's the correct answer?

And I did more research and discovered that the coolant I lug around in my car also expires.  Do I need to get rid of that, too??

Damn, this is getting confusing, and expensive.

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.

I Continue To Miss Soccer Goals

I've started my day on Apple TV watching the MLS Toronto-Colorado Match while thinking up what I want to blog post about.  And with the Rapids up 2-0 and this being, well, soccer, I let my attention wander, both to my phone and also to this laptop.

I have spoken before about missing Goals because I was looking at my phone.  Well, Toronto scored while I was looking at my lap (specifically theoretical high-speed rail networks in the Midwest), then they tied it up while I was looking at my The Athletic app.  And I'll be goddamned: That is when I finally got the inspiration to blog post, and as I started this blog post, TFC scored again to take a 3-2 lead.

This would have been a sensational Game to pay attention to.  Instead, I saw none of the three Goals of this comeback, and right now, I want to kill myself.

Goddamn, Car Trouble Fucks Everything Up

Man, don't you hate it when you have to stop everything just because of car trouble?  OK, I am exaggerating what happened and didn't happen yesterday/Tuesday, but it's still a pain in the ass.

So I go out to sleep in my car at work for my lunch break.  My paranoid eyes always makes me think I'm seeing something that's not there, but on this day, they latched onto something unusual and, turns out, scary: A bulge/blister/bump on my passenger-side tire.  Honestly, I didn't think anything of it.  I just thought I needed to deflate the air in that overinflated tire (didn't help), and then I went inside my car to nap.  But that bubble concerned me anyway, so I had to go to my cell and Google, "is it dangerous to have a bump on the side of your tire?"  And all the entries in the search said, "Hell yes, it's fucking dangerous!"

(Aside: I seem to have more problems with tires on this car than I ever had with my old one.  Is it because it's a subcompact whose tires are naturally lower profile?  I remember getting one of my tires punctured the Friday before Labor Weekend, and now this.  By the way, that bubble is probably the result of hitting one pothole, or one too many potholes.  Goddamn potholes.)

After making a couple calls to see if I could get a tire after work, I decided that after work I needed to swap out that tire for the spare.  But dammit, my mechanic screwed those lug nuts in so tight I couldn't loosen them.  I did not believe at all that I needed to call AAA, but because I am too weak, I had to.  Luckily, even during afternoon rush hour traffic and him helping me being led astray by his Google Maps, the guy who was about to save me arrived at work after one hour.  The last time I called AAA (and I think it was when I had to stop the minivan around St. Thomas for what was a broken alternator), it was at least twice that long.  And after using WD-40 and a long-handle lug nut remover to get as much torque working, he got the bad tire off.  Roadside assistants are angels, they truly are.

Also angels are, I now realize, the only car mechanic in the neighborhood that's open evenings.  Why aren't there more car shops that are open evenings, or weekends for that matter?  Cars don't break down at night or on weekends?  Anyway, the place I babied my car to was the only one around the area open at 7 at night.  And even though they couldn't get the same exact tire for me that evening, they can do so this morning.  Also, they did what I asked them to: Check the other tires to make sure they're fine, and to check the air pressure on the spare (even though I asked the roadside assistant to check and to pump it up.  I always forget to check the air in the spare).

So I talked about having plans ruined.  Specifically, I wanted to eat at either Culver's or Potbelly, two places where I can get free dessert for my birthday.  I then wanted to go home, look through the mail, call Mother about the mail if need be, then maybe nap before I caught the 8 o'clock showing of Ready Or Not 2: Here I Come.  But after I got everything arranged for the (hopefully) quick tire swap this morning, I got my car back, spare tire still affixed, and I still had time to make the movie.  I didn't feel completely safe that I could drive to the theater to watch when I could, and maybe should, drive back home.  But a mixture of relief that people were able to help me and defiance that I didn't want my car trouble to stop me from the fun I planned on having compelled me to get to the movie.  And I made it in time.  And the film was ... um, bloody and profane, but OK, just like the first one.

One problem after I left the shop and before I went into the theater.  I locked the door with the key fob, but I didn't see the light flicker on indicating everything got locked.  I then noticed that the hood was slightly open.  Now I noticed when I was at the shop, looking through the window into the bay where the mechanics were looking at my car, that the hood was opened up, presumably for the guys to go through their customary check of everything in my car even though I was just there to get a tire replaced.  I didn't think anything else of it, though, because I assumed they would slam the hood shut.  But they didn't.  I didn't drive really fast; you're not supposed to on a spare, plus I used side streets to get from the mechanic to the theater.  But I realized that I drove several miles with the hood open.  The hood of my old car flew open while I was driving to the gym a baker's dozen years ago, and that was the scariest fucking thing that's happened to me on the road ... well, OK, maybe top five.  My point is is that it seems very, very dangerous to drive with the hood open.  I don't think anything got ruined, and yet I feel my car is beyond repair because I drove it with the hood open.  Look, if anything did get damaged, I probably won't know till much, much later.  Fuckin' A, man -- these guys were quick, and they treated me well.  But they fucking forgot to slam my fuckin' hood shut?!

No, I probably won't bring it up.  Again, if there's damage because I drove with the hood open, how would I know?  Oh, well, you take the head-slappingly bad with the good when you're in a jam.  Hopefully they can just get me my new tire and do so quickly and easily.

My Sister The Proxy

So I told Mother that I got my passport book and card two and three weeks (respectively) after I applied online, and she asked for my help to coach her through the online application process for her and Father at a day I had time to help her with it.  I told her on Sunday that I could help her Monday evening.

Now, I've told all of you how much of a mental and emotional drain being on the phone with My Mother can be.  I think that planning a long phone call ahead of time, like it obviously was going to be when dealing with an online passport renewal application over the phone and not while I'm sitting next to her, helps remind me that I need to be patient.  What I didn't know, however, was that my sister just so happened to be visiting my parents in Las Vegas for a few days.  Awesome!  She basically became my on-site translator and extra set of hands!!  So sis, can you do the application process for the 'Rents ... and ooh, by the way, can you help me install a new modem and router in their condo, too?

This problem of theirs goes back at least a year.  Mother complains of dead spots, namely their dining room table, which is at the opposite end of the part of their condo where their old, slow, obsolete modem resides.  It needed a new one, I suspected, and then it needed something to boost its range and help the signal break through the condo's walls.  But I wasn't planning on going out there anytime soon, not as long as this Republican administration has the gall to snatch up anyone at the airport they decided they don't like, so I figured my folks would have to just suck it up.  My sister being there, however, changes everything.  I could tell her what the problem is and how to fix it.  So once I decided she could do this (and my sis made the online application process for both Mother and Father go so smoothly), I spent the rest of the night looking up the best modem and router to buy at an electronics store and bought them, then I texted her all the information for the three of them to pick up, bring home, and set up so Mother can finally stop bitching about their shitty wi-fi.

That part did not go smoothly.  First of all, the modem I bought for them has to be hooked up with a coaxial cable.  I thought every place had a coax, but apparently this condo only connects to the Internet outside via Ethernet.  My sister tried to see if the modem would work just hooked up through Ethernet, but she told me (on the phone Tuesday night while I was at the Timberwolves Game) that it didn't.  Also, the router I got for them was just one unit of those "meshes" or "pods" or whatever you call it.  I thought one would be enough.  I thought that if I bought them a second (which, presumably, would be placed as far away as the first "mesh" or "pod," which has to be connected to the modem, in order to maximize the range), they would complain that, like, "It looks bad," or something.  My folks can be that shallow.  Well, Mother complained (after my sis attached this new router to the old modem, which she had a bit of trouble reconnecting) that there still wasn't any range.

My sister was leaving Thursday, and there was no way my parents would even dare try hooking up this second router, so my sister got my brother to buy that second router, which could be delivered the next day (which was Wednesday) because he has Amazon Prime.  (This is where I expand the universe of this blog post by reminding you that after I got home from the Game, I saw that my thermostat didn't work and, ironically, decided to accept a free trial of Amazon Prime in order to buy the same brand of thermostat so that I didn't have to do any wire work to put in a different brand of thermostat, and get it delivered as soon as possible ... even though I put in a second different set of batteries which made the old thermostat finally work.)  My sister got this second router, she installed it Wednesday, and it ... well, I haven't asked Mother yet if the range is better.

All through this ordeal, I profusely thanked my sister for doing this favor -- for our Mother, because our Mother wanted it, but frankly, for me, too.  I don't think she had running to Best Buy and spending a good chunk of one afternoon installing new wi-fi as part of her plans while visiting my parents.  I recognize that I ask ... no, use my sister a lot when I want something done.  Most notably, when I feel like I can't talk to my brother about something I need him to know, I tell my sister and she tells him.  We were in Hong Kong for Grandmother's funeral several years ago, and we were not on speaking terms then, so we asked our sis to relay any messages we needed the other to know.  She recognized that; the night after the funeral service, when I took her to this bar I wanted to go to because I needed a drink, she told me she knows what both of us are asking her to do in order to keep the peace between us.  And she almost broke down crying.  The gravity of burying Grandmother had something to do with it, of course, but being the peacemaker brings its own anguish, and that is something we make her do.

She acted as if she didn't mind putting in a new modem and router, even though she had no previous experience.  Still, besides thanking her a lot for being my proxy, I wonder if there's something else I could do for her ... or does she have a favor I'll have to pay her in kind.  Either way, that's an obligation I should do for her.  She did this for me, after all.

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.

---

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. ...

The Joys Of Buying A Robe

It's not as if I don't mind wrapping a bath towel around myself when I leave the bathroom after taking a shower.  And hell, right now I could gallivant around the house stark naked if I wanted.  Well, maybe not; I can't dry the curtains at the back door.  And that's when I thought about buying a robe.  And you know, it gets cold when I gallivant around the house stark naked.  Now, it's just a robe, and I'm not wearing anything underneath it.  But it would be enough for me to wear, and I could do things like do the laundry or make myself dinner while wearing it, and I wouldn't be either cold or embarrassed.

The problem is that the best robes are so expensive.  I rely on The Wirecutter for best products, and I was amazed that all the robes they recommend are at least close to a hundred bucks!  Really?  Are good robest that pricey?

I had been looking at the article in The Wirecutter for a few years now.  They update their list annually, so I kept looking just in case they found a budget pick.  Well, about a month ago I saw that listicle again and, miraculously, there was a sale going on with one of their robe picks.  That discount ran around 30%, and going from almost $100 to less than $70 was the final incentive for me to finally buy a robe.

And you know what?  I love it!  I can walk around the house now after I shower without worrying if any neighbor catches me naked.  It is still new, so the deep and plus hairs of the robe nestle and comfort me.  It keeps me warm as I put-put around the house.  Finally, it solves the reason I wanted a robe in the first place, a reason I let slip from my consciousness frequently: I hate sitting up on my bed waiting for my hair to dry before I could put my clothes on and gallivant around the house.  With a robe, I don't have to pull my shirts over my wet hair and thus making my chest and back sweaty all day.  Instead, I can walk around the house and spend my time doing productive things as my hair dries.  Plus, I don't have to pull a robe over my wet head.

The only dilemma is where to stash the robe once my parents come home.  I can't leave it out in the bathroom.  I think it'll have to be put in a closet, right next to my civilian clothes.  But I don't have to really, really think about this issue until I get a fixed date of when my folks are returning.

Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year!

It feels as if the older I get, the more I hew to Chinese/Lunar New Year superstitions, as cockamamie they may be.  As I have gathered on the Internet, these are things one is not supposed to do and the time periods in which you cannot do them:

• For the first three days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not sweep, clean the house, shower or wash your hair
• For the first five days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not clean the dishes or do the laundry
• For the first 15 days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not take your car in for maintenance and/or repairs or use sharp objects
• For the first 30 days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not go to the doctor or dentist

That all seems silly, I know.  But I cleaned out the garbage, did the dishes, showered and trimmed my nails before midnight.  I also avoided meat and instead ate Culver's two-piece walleye dinner, bones and all.  Then again, I just realized that I used a knife to slice open oranges so I could make myself a tequila sunrise that I am drinking right now.  Welp, I guess I just damned myself to a year of bad luck.  Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year!!!

Venmo Trouble

So I sent ****e* her money not too long ago.  I usually pay her in cash, but since I wasn't planning on using any cash yesterday/Thursday, and since the money I took out Wednesday thinking I was going to spend it on some sexytime with a stripper (which fell through) I am going to use at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) tomorrow/Saturday instead, I was going to pay her through the "fake money" of Venmo.

I actually left last/Thursday night to attend a concert while ****e* was still working on my house.  She was gone by the time I came back, and, like she said before I left, she would request I pay her through Venmo.  I think there was a bit of a miscommunication; I asked for her username, but she thought I could just pay through the app, and I told her I never put money apps on my phone because someone might get in there and steal all my money.  I was able to find her username after I clicked on her request, so all is right with the world.

I have used Venmo a lot, so much so that I need to replenish it more often than I want to.  So after paying off ****e*, I tried to transfer money from my bank to my Venmo.  But I can't.  First, I tried to find the page where I can do the transfer, but there wasn't one.  I swear I've done it before, but I don't know where the hell the page is.  I look up instructions on Google, but first I only saw ways to add money through the app, and then I was told that I had to go to the "Me" tab, but there isn't one.

Finally, I stumbled on a Business Insider article that tells you how to do it.  I saw a URL.  I cut-and-pasted it, and that's when I finally saw the (unfamiliar) page whereby I can send money from my bank into my Venmo.  But then I tried it, several times, but I got an error message.  So I logged out.

Like I said, I haven't quite encountered the trouble putting money into my Venmo like I did last/Thursday night, but I have encountered the occasional trouble from this stupid application.  That thing is difficult to use, yet everyone swears by it.  I don't get it.

Those Motherfuckers

Today I woke up around 11:30.  I think my body told me I only needed six hours of sleep.  But, I think I was trying to loll around my bed to get more shuteye anyway.

I couldn't.  I was woken up by a car horn being honked incessantly.  I think they say that when you hear a horn getting honked repeatedly, that means that those people are not only around, but they're about to take someone.

Those sons-of-bitches are still here, goddammit, and they might finally be reaching our street.

---

Not too long ago, my phone blew up.  Emergency text.  Some kid is missing.  But this is no Amber Alert, at least I don't think.  The missing child is a Latino boy.

I saw on the tracker website that an observer saw activity at an address close to the one given on the alert.  Poor boy made a run for it, I reckon.  I don't know how he's going to survive because this is the one cold night we'll have for at least the next couple weeks.  But if there are gods, let him run free.