at least it’s better than r. kelly
Monday evening, pre-Coldplay show. Another "woe is me" post I'm afraid; when it rains, it pours.
Just a quick update on yesterday's post before moving onto today: Turns out Sharaun's car problems were covered under warranty, which is great - take that Axiom. Next, the stereo fix-it place can't get the Ford in until Wednesday - which means I'm driving around with nothing but the rhythms of roadnoise to jam on until then, hey - at least it's better than R. Kelly. Not sure what the stereo overhaul will run me, but hoping for less than the deductible I'd pay were I to file an insurance claim. For what it's worth, I did file a police report, just in case they caught some teenager Friday night with a gymbag full of radios or something. Stupid ghetto neighborhood filled with half-million dollar homes and Cadillac Escalades... I should've known it'd be a thief's Disneyland.
Sharaun called me on her way home from school today in tears... She's angry and upset with herself for not doing enough to help transition her student teacher into the role of permanent teacher, which he'll inherit this Friday - her last day before maternity leave. She sobbed about her disorganized classroom, her lack of instruction and guidance to the fledgling prof, and her guilt over "dumping" things on him. I tried my best "listening husband" routine, which seemed to work OK, but it's hard when she's so upset. I hate when she's like that. I tried to remind her that, come Friday, none of that will be her responsibility anymore - and that surely her student teacher has been under her tutelage long enough to take over - but she didn't seem to agree. Me, if it were my last week of work, I'd be more concerned planning the party I'd be continually throwing for the foreseeable future than any turmoil my leaving might cause.
My TiVo will have not made a daily call in 100 days on Wednesday, and, believe me, it won't let me forget it.
Goodnight.
revenge of the axiom
I knew it, I knew it. As soon as we've got a nice little for-when-the-baby-comes savings built up in the bank, Dave's First Axiom of Finance strikes: There’s no such thing as extra money.
First, the garage door breaks on Tuesday, and I was waiting until the weekend to fix it. That means Sharaun and I had both been parking in the driveway for a few nights, Friday night being one of them. Saturday morning, Sharaun had yet another all-day teachermoot which left the king alone in his castle. As she was leaving, she noticed my car door was cracked. Sure enough, I had been liberated of my stereo. Not sure if I left my truck unlocked, but it sure appears that way - that or the efficient pilferers made some non-intrusive entry; my money's on unlocked. This latest thieving marks the fourth time Sharaun or I have had our cars rifled and lightened by crooked fingers - and the second time that it's happened right in our own driveway. I hate the feeling you get when someone jacks your stuff... hate it. Sure, some might say it's my fault, if indeed I did leave the doors unlocked. Bullshit. It's not my "fault." I may have invited it, making it unnecessarily easy, but it's sure not my "fault" that someone can't fight their klepto urges.
I did spend a few hours over the weekend tearing the thing apart, attempting to ditch the antiquated idea of a head-unit and integrate my iPod directly into the speakers via the existing amp. Then I remembered that the amp was bad, and I was only using it as a bridged-mono "crutch" to push the subwoofer - so that plan bombed. So now I'm gonna roll her up to the stereo place and let them have their way with it. I'm still planning to get rid of the head unit and go iPod-only into the speakers, I'm just gonna let them work their magic with those instructions rather than wracking my brain over the wiring, input levels, gain, and all that other associated crap. Shooting for an un-thievable setup where I can just take the iPod with me, leaving not but wires in the vehicle to be stolen.
Second (those two paragraphs we're the "first"), Sharaun's car started making the most awful noise on Sunday. It's something that I've been hearing, albeit having to strain, for a while now - but that she's dismissed as me being over-sensitive to noise (which, in fairness, I am). Now, however, the noise is indisputable - so loud it almost drowns out the stereo at high speed. Whatever it is, it sure doesn't sound good. Thankfully, I remembered at the last minute that we're still under warranty - I'd pushed the salesman for the 5yr/65k at no cost and won. We dropped it off late Sunday night, and've got my fingers crossed for something covered... otherwise I fear the cost of repair will be directly proportional to the volume of that nasty sound.
But folks, all is not woe and misery... nothing a few hundred dollars won't fix, at least. And, while it's fun to complain for comedic value - it's also annoying.
OK yeah, you have to watch this: Fear of Girls, a free film on Google Video about table-top RPG players... hilarious (via MeFi).
Out.
and when at last i find you
Thursday night as I write, and in the battle of Dave vs. Dave's Job, Dave won handily. I took the to-do list by the horns and walked it around the arena in disgrace.
Ever since we got the nursery's rocker (I still have trouble referring to it as a "glider," although that's surely what it is moreso than a rocker) fixed up with the help of Erik & Kristi - I head into that room daily to just sit and think on the thing. Mostly, I try to imagine myself holding a baby whilst "gliding," or watching a baby sleep through the cribrails. I just sit there in that pink room and pretend. Won't have to pretend for much longer I suppose, but it's some sort of experiment or internal bet I've got going with myself: that no matter how much I rock there, trying to imagine she's already here, it'll be nothing like the days when I'm sitting there and she is actually here. My money's on me not being able to imagine it accurately, not being able to peg the feelings having never experienced it. If you can't tell, I'm hotly anticipating this one... and the incessant baby-babble is likely to continue for a while. What a puss.
In other baby news (who'd've thunk), I think I chosen the song I'd like to be her 1st song. The ride home from l'hopital song. Beatles? But of course, could it be anything else? The track, coincidentally enough from my favorite Beatles LP, "I Will." I've always thought of the song as romantic, girl-focused, whatever. But, when it came up on shuffle the other day, I realized it's not necessarily limited to the love where one heterosexual wants to bone another heterosexual, it's a kind of ambiguous love that could, in fact, be taken as referring to family. Plus, it's a gorgeous soft song, perfectly short and quiet for a sleeping newborn - and more importantly, a newborn girl. A boy might get something edgier, but this song is just right for someone coming home to a new pink bedroom. Check it out, in all it's DMCA-violating glory, here.
I just don't have the will to write more, at least I had a full week. Peace out.
it’s no good, don’t bother
I debated on using the baby-in-mirror thematic Gimp today, or saving it for a big splash on Friday - since I had two designs to choose from. Ultimately, I think I made the right decision... as it looks pretty awesome to me right now. Anyway, bringing it back... today was one loooong day. Had a manager-moot at the local sushi joint, which went well and was full of HR's-not-watching dirty-talk. Even though dinner was good, the 15hr day was a bit much. Glad to be home.
Looks like I'm not the only one who's not been completely taken in by the all-powerful Arctic Monkeys hypemonsters, as Stylus seems less than exuberant (Muzzle of Bees highlighted the relevant portions of the review well in this post). Buzz-mongering aside, I do have to admit that I'm sitting her giving the album another chance (although I delete "I Bet You Look Good On the Dancefloor" from the playlist, as it's just been beaten too far into my head to hear it again). But seriously, why is this album being compared to the Beatles?
Also in muzak, I think I mentioned that Sharaun had purchased us Coldplay tickets for my birthday a while back - and the day is nearly upon us. I've never been Coldplay's #1 fan, but I'm actually pretty excited about seeing them live. And... I guess, since it's somewhat related... I swear, I full 50% of the time I plug my iPod into the PC iTunes won't pick it up. Oh, it shows fine in Windows as an attached drive, I can browse through it without issue. Even the iPod Updater sees it, but iTunes, for whatever reason, refuses to recognize the device. Not only that, but I promise that tags I specifically remember going in and cleaning up (Derek & the Dominos vs. Derek and the Dominos) routinely switch back. Stupid, stupid iTunes... why can't they make it any better than the crap it is?
At least it's Thursday... and that's almost Friday... and that's almost the weekend. 'Nite.
stake your names
Another day down at work, and a long one looming tomorrow. In at 5:30am for a meeting with folks in Germany, out after a dinner with some other managers after 5pm. Not looking forward to waking up at the butt-crack to banter with Hans and Franz - the Germans are notoriously rough on us engineers, they have impeccable standards and know how to ask pointed questions.
The other night I happened across David Blaine's Street Magic special on TLC. I remember the first time I saw it years ago, and all the love of magic that over-the-top "illusionists" like David Copperfield had sucked from me over the years with their cheesy music and light shows came flooding back to me. Seeing real people react to close-up magic is so much more engaging than seeing Mr. Copperfield walk through the Great Wall of China from 15 different soft-focused camera angles. I swear I chuckle with glee when I see him pull off the more amazing of his non-trick-deck sleights. Anyone can use a stripper, svengali, or rough/smooth deck... but even with the assistance of trick decks he's got a charisma that makes even the most hackneyed tricks feel fresh. It's the personal, close-up, stuff that's the best, even the Balducci levitation played up throughout the entire show pales in comparison to the nickel-filled coffee cup anyway. Altho, when he does it for the cluster of hearing-impaired kids, I swear I tear up at the happiness on their faces.
Remember my beard? I shaved it one night last week. My beard is gone.
My mom and Sharaun's mom both sent packages in the mail for Lil' Chino. I thought it was funny that they both used the notes accompanying these pre-birth packages to attempt to establish their "grandmother names." My mom stuck her claim on "Grammy," while Sharaun's mom opted for "Gami."
Dropped my iPod for the first time today, seems to be OK... but it gave me a scare seeing how utterly dependant I've become on its awesomeness.
I always knew I wasn't attractive enough to pull the kind of game I consistently do.
Tuesday night and that means baby-class at l'hopital. Tonight they gave all the preggers little stress balls to squish in their hands while they worked through the fake contractions and associated breathing. I lost it when the instructor kept gently intoning: "Now... keep squeezing your balls," and, "Continue to squeeze your balls, in and out." There's a lot of unintentional humor in the class.
The other night I spilled super-glue on the cat. I had to cut out a huge chunk of her fur because I was worried she'd lick it, ingest it, and die. Now she has chunky bald-spots on her front shoulder.
Added some new pictures of the nursery progress, almost done now.
OK, seriously... what is up with this ginormous buzz surrounding the Arctic Monkeys' debut record? I have the album, and I am, thus far, underwhelmed. There are some catchy hooks... but I don't see what's supposed to be so amazing about it. However, I have decided to give it a few more open-eared spins just to check my (mostly) infallible instant sense of good vs. bad.
Goodnight my friends.
shooting sharks
Near 10pm Monday evening, sitting in the "computer room" for a change, since Sharaun's holed up in here working on progress reports for her class or something. She can't concentrate with music, so I've got the iPod on shuffle in the "blues" genre - really been getting off on listening to blues standards lately, maybe it's the weather. Still need to do the dishes and put some coffee in the pot for the morning... too late already. I guess today's thing is a hodgepodge of little one-off paragraphs that didn't fit anywhere else. Oh, and you may notice the larger-than-average post-accompanying pictures of late, just roll with it, it won't be forever - I'm having fun.
Even though some may say it's too early to call, I think we may have a frontrunner for media-overdose of 2006: the trapped miner. 2003 it was shark attacks, 2004 was attractive white girls going missing (extra bonus if they were pregnant), hurricanes ruled 2005, and it's looking like '06 may shape up to be a cave-in frenzy. If only we could get some attractive, pregnant white woman trapped in a caved-in mine, with rescuers unable to reach her due to a massive hurricane which has picked up sharks from the ocean and is raining them over the West Virginian countryside... CNN's head would asplode. Really, I just wrote that whole paragraph because I pictured swirling clouds "shooting out" hungry sharks and cracked up at a vision of them hurtling towards earth, gaping razor-mouth first. Hahaha. Shooting sharks.
Do you know that nowhere on all my DirecTV channels is there any instance of Gilligan's Island? Are you for real? We have 300 some-odd channels, each with 24hrs of programming, and not a single one can show an hour a week of a classic like Gilligan's Island? What the heck am I paying for if I can't even watch Gilligan's Island?
Before I leave, I wanted to share a little thing that happened to me a few weeks ago. I wrote about it then (post 611, this is 621), but binned it for the next God entry instead of pushing it through. Anyway, I basically cut and pasted it out of that work-in-progress God entry here: Friday night I had some beer. I was driving home afterward (buzzed driving is drunk driving), listening to Sufjan's Seven Swans. The song "The Transfiguration" has always been a favorite or mine, and this particular night I was extra struck by its religious imagery. At this point in the old entry, I quoted the lyrics in full. Rather than do that here, I just wanted to link to it so you can hear for yourself. It's a great tune (if you like the trademark super-super-super gay Sufjan sound), so don't let the God-talk scare you off.
OK whatever goodnight.
t-minus one month and counting
Some may think a month out is perhaps too soon to start my regular baby coverage, not me - I'm gonna do this in true media-blitz fashion. And, keeping with that blitziness, coverage will approach a fever pitch as the denouement approaches. Plus, I figured, I made the fancy news-style banner (thanks Inkscape!), I might as well kick off the feature. I'm not saying we'll be all single-topic now, but you can expect the baby-talk to increase.
At the request of the to-be-hitched Ben and Suzy, Sharaun and I rambled up to some sawdust-burg set deep in the old-gold Northern Californian foothills Saturday evening. The place they've chosen to nup' at has some "promotional" deal where the couple-to-be can come up and stay and drink for free, and, what's more, they're encouraged to bring friends. Not being ones to pass up an offer of such caliber, we gladly accepted and hit the road. It was a nice night, filled, for me at least, with wine and beer and some bad-judgement cigarettes I bought from the center console of some girl's Ford... really, she had two-inch white heels on and sold me a pack of cigarettes out of her truck. Had I not switched to water around 1am, things could've been much worse - it was a swirly, headachey sleep as it was. It was a great night though, haven't done that much unbridled imbibing in a while.
And, in iPod news, I spent some time this weekend importing album artwork into my library using the iTunes Art Importer, which works really well, if slow. Every time that little picture of the album comes up with a song, I feel a smile spread across my face. This thing, this "iPod," was invented solely for me; I've been waiting for it since I was 12 and didn't even know it - how I lived this long without it, I have no idea. I've also been slowly wading through the library and making sure the genre tags for all the tracks are correct. I never cared about tags that much before, but with the ability to shuffle within or listen to a particular genre - it's become more important. Want a grunge mix? Blues, maybe soul? Fire it up.
No more writing. Goodnight.
Recent Posts
- tomorrow will worry about itself
- walker!
- the wind is refreshing
- still sometimes call it “home”
- 10 without fanfare
Random Posts
- no thanks, i'll wait for the free one
- from north to a little less north
- kinda like a wolverine
- portland was good to me tonight...
- sore muscles, family, & fruit
Recent Comments
Kelli Melin: We just got back from two weeks at the ranch in MT and we long to figure...
cynerator: well? what happened? or is it still in there, kinda like that rock you...
Dave: This made me happy, and also sad. Favorite comment in a long time.
Aimee: You could take that RV trip as a teacher… and you’d even have two...
