Sleep Deprivation

I don't require much sleep. Generally, I can easily get by with 6 hours of unbroken sleep. The whole recommended 7-8 hours doesn't tend to happen very often, because I usually wake up on my own first. It's when I start dipping below those 6 hours, or that time is broken up into 1-2 hour naps that I start having problems.

Cranky problems.

Well, for the last week and a half, my sleep schedule has been shortened, interrupted or otherwise dictated by other people. No sir, I don't like it. And since I have few other outlets to vent my frustrations, the rant goes here. Lucky you.

On-Call Phone

By far, the biggest offender in the past week and a half has been my company's newest implement of torture. It used to be that the duties of after-hours on-call fell to people actually on the clock, but due to the flagging economy and a certain series of events, that group of people are no more. Now, it's up to the folks that already work a full day (in my case, usually more) to be pulled out of bed at all hours of the night to troubleshoot issues they likely have no capability to fix at that hour, and for no extra compensation for the disruption to their lives. Of the 6 nights I had the phone, it rang no fewer times than twice nightly, every night, and at every ungodly hour of the morning.

Not to mention that it went off at the worst possible times during my waking hours: screaming matches between Colin and Clara, while I'm trying to fix a meal or get a child ready for bed, my dear Saucer night... Why not? Not like I could possibly have anything better to do in the few hours I have off from work than to work some more.

Clara

Clara has reached a point in her development that, for whatever reason, she is wide awake at 4am. Everyday, without fail. D and I both have fond memories of this stage of development. Our parents brilliantly taught us how to entertain ourselves, and later fix a basic breakfast, until an adult woke up. We have tried to do the same thing, explain to her that she needs to quietly play upstairs or watch TV until other people are awake, but she either doesn't understand or doesn't care. She goes downstairs, gets into everything, knocks things over, leaves the gates open for the dogs to pee and poop in all rooms of the house, makes an epic mess of salt and yogurt and tops it off by tripping the deafening house alarm when she unlocks and opens the back door to let the dogs out.

This inevitably launches me from bed, high on adrenaline, into a haphazard race down the stairs to cancel the alarm before it calls the cops. Such a brisk, exhilarating morning run makes it nearly impossible for me to get any more sleep in for the rest of the morning. Which is convenient, since I'm going to need all that time to clean up the messes that Clara and the dogs made throughout the house.

This happens at least 3 times a week. I don't want to replace the doorknob cover on her door again, since she's potty-training and needs access to the bathroom, but I'm starting to run out of patience. I need sleep, and she refuses to stay put and stay quiet in the morning, despite anything we do.

D

Last week, D was out on what amounted to a company-paid vacation on St. Pete Beach in Florida. I think I may have mentioned this. Still a little jealous. Her absence kinda threw me off my game all week: I had a hard time initially getting to sleep, and a harder time getting back to sleep each time my sleep was broken. I know, I'm pathetic. But I missed my wife, and it showed physically.

Having her back has its own issues, though. If there's something that she feels needs to be checked in the middle of the night (e.g. strange noises, temperature too hot/cold, etc.) she doesn't get up and take care of it - she kicks me out of bed to do it. Also, if I happen to be occupying part of the bed that she wants, she can get pretty brutal. It's not unusual to be woken up by repeated kicks to the back, shin or other rather painful locations. Not like I can really hold it against her; she usually doesn't remember it the next morning, but that doesn't help the lost sleep.

At any rate, usually my only course of action is to prop myself up at my desk on caffeine and nicotine and try to grind out a day without biting anyone's head off, in hopes of making it through and actually getting some sleep the next night.

Ahh, ranting sure feels good. Glad I could get that off my chest. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm about ready for a nap...

EDIT (8/25): Had my first solid night's sleep in a week and a half last night. Feeling MUCH better. :)

Ain't Life Grand: Well... This is awkward...

D's been out at a meeting of the minds in sunny, scenic Tampa this week, so I've been soloing the kids. Sore jaw notwithstanding (they're great, by the way - there was no way that tooth was going to be taken care of painlessly), it's been relatively easy, but we're all missing D terribly.

It's up-ended the morning routine, really. As funny as it sounds, my morning schedule involves being woken from sleep by her early morning preparations, typically harried and inevitably involving tripping over/running into things. Think of it kinda like my security blanket, except it's one that curses at all the crap on the floor.

So this morning, I'm brought from my slumber by some shuffling around outside the door, followed by a brief, yet quiet squeal and more walking around. In my drowsy state, I think to myself that D must have tripped on something, and roll over to snooze a bit before she says goodbye for the day. A little while later, I feel a weight behind me on the edge of the bed, and instinctively tell D that I love her and to have a great day. As I roll over and lean in to kiss her, I'm greeted by two large, yellow-green eyes, fuzzy pointed ears and a swishing Squirrel-kitty tail.

"Well... This is awkward..." I tell her as she meows at me and bolts out of the room.

Ain't life grand?

Weekend Intelligence: Distant Worlds

In this day and age, "love" is easy to find. There are countless avenues to meet people today, with new ways being created everyday. The media inundates us with images, videos and ideas of how it is and how it should be. From tips and tricks to advice and stories, plot devices and steamy love scenes: you can find it everywhere. And while they all claim to be unique, or be that sure bet to land the love of your life, they all have one thing in common: the formula.

1. Meet
2. Fall in love
3. Get married
4. Live happily ever after

It's that fourth step that's the kicker for me. Seems a bit boring, no? Luckily for me, my best friend thought so, too. And so, for five amazing and years, we've been enjoying the adventure-filled journey married life was always meant to be. It hasn't always been fun, and it hasn't always been pretty, but we wouldn't trade even our worst day together for a good day traveling alone. This past weekend, we celebrated our time together, and in a rather appropriate way - as an adventure. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights!

Houston - Distant Worlds Tour

We had wanted to do something special for this occasion. While we were looking around for options, we found that the Houston Symphony was to perform selected works from the Final Fantasy series as part of the Distant Worlds Tour. Rumor had it that Nobuo Uematsu, who composed and scored the vast majority of SE's music over the years, was going to be in attendance. And all this was going on the weekend before our anniversary! Too good to pass up.

Saturday came, and some good friends of ours agreed to watch Clara and Colin while we made the 3-hour drive to Houston. D scored us some nice hotel accommodations in downtown Houston: within walking distance of the theater district, food, shops and clubs. Not that we HAD to walk - the hotel had complimentary chauffeur service to anywhere we wanted to go. We decided to take in the sights on foot for the afternoon anyway, visiting the Houston Flying Saucer (they have a LOFT!) and doing some shopping before getting ready for the evening.

After a sushi dinner, we were dropped off at the concert hall. Now, D and I are used to attending performing arts events. What set this apart from most of the others was that we fit right in to the veritable sea of gamers and geeks. Some people attending were even in elaborate cosplay! In fact, we sat one row back and a few seats over from one of the best Kefka's I have ever seen.

It was an evening of beautiful music. The repertoire was a little FFVIII heavy, but all the selected pieces were gorgeously scored and performed. They even had a special treat for the audience: they were premiering the orchestral and choral arrangement for "Jenova" from FFVII. We were the first to hear it! Best of all, not only were the rumors about Nobuo attending true, but he was VERY involved with the audience. He gave a small introduction at the beginning of the show, held a half-hour question and answer session after the show, and even joined the choir to sing in "Jenova" for the show's finale! He seemed like a very down-to-earth person for someone with so much acclaim.

We rounded out the evening with a few drinks at the bar and some special celebrating back at the hotel room. The perfect ending to a magical night. -.^ It was hard to accept that our stay was over and leave the next morning, but what a night! Those are some memories that will last for years.

Good memories of but one episode in a long list in this grand adventure. Isn't that how it's supposed to be?

Ain't Life Grand: Lights Out

I was onsite for a client we have in the county courthouse a few day ago. After getting waved through security, I stopped off at the boys' room and took a stall.

I know, I know. TMI. Just listen.

While taking care of business, a very loud man entered, grumbled something about damn kids today, burped and loudly relieved himself, left without washing his hands and turned the light out on his way out, all while I was midflight. "Seriously?" I asked out loud. I sat there for five minutes in the dark until someone came in and turned the lights on. I thanked them from inside the stall, which startled them right back out the door. At least they left the light on....

Moral of the story: Shit doesn't always go down the way you expect it should, but it usually works out all right in the end. Ain't life grand?

Ain't Life Grand: Fishing Day

I took a day off on Friday. I've needed a good solid day off to myself for quite some time now, and I just decided that I might as well make the 3-day weekend a 4-day one. I got up bright and early like I normally would, and took Clara to daycare. But I packed the car with fishing gear instead of computer gear, and went to Calaveras Lake instead of work. I was out on the pier by 8, and spent a good 3 hours checking out the water, enjoying the rainy breeze and fighting some excellent catches.

I caught two decent-sized catfish, and one larger red drum (for those who've asked). I cast the line out one last time before deciding to leave, and was BSing with some of the other people that took the day off, too, when my line went nuts. Like, crazy go nuts. I let the line out a little, and it didn't seem to take much of it. I figured there was probably a piece of driftwood that got pushed by the swells, and tried to reel in a bit. And then it started fighting. I fought this dumb thing for almost 10 minutes to wear it out, but eventually I was able to bring it close enough to the surface to see what looked like a boulder on the end of my line. That, pictured above, was a softshell turtle.

Not just any turtle. As you can see, that turtle took up half a truck bed. Eventually we got a net around it and were able to haul it in. At that point, I figured I had enough excitement for one day.

Three hours. Two catfish, a red drum and a fsking sea turtle. Ain't life grand?

Know Your Meme: How Do I Shot Web?

It was 4:55 on a Friday afternoon. The trouble tickets were updated and the phones had been quiet all afternoon. We were all just trying to kill the last five minutes of the day: BSing about the week we'd just had, our plans for the weekend and generally enjoying some light-hearted banter. And that's when it hit: an end user at a new account was having some trouble with some unsupported software, and decided to enter a trouble ticket for it.

OK, OK... They're supposed to do that, so I'll not fault them on that, albeit it's somewhat douchey to do at five 'til five. It's the ticket subject and description that got us:

Subject: How do I fix part?

Description: I in (XYZ Application) and cant fix part. How do I fix part?

-.-; That's verbatim, missing contracted verbs, punctuation, articles and all. With stupid elemental damage imminent, I had to take evasive maneuvers. The guys were starting to scratch their heads, and asking me all sorts of questions: "What is 'part'? Are we supposed to know how to fix it? Is it in the documentation?" To which I simply replied, "Hay guise, how do I shot web?"

"How do I shot web?" is an interweb trolling-style catchphrase used to point out or poke fun at rather noobish behavior or inquiries. Its construction implies, vis-à-vis the lack of proper grammar and simple construction, that the person making the request is either trying to get a rise out of their audience, or is asking in earnest but may likely not completely comprehend the answer.

Shortly after the meme's inception, the fine folks at 4chan (don't click that...) created an image macro for it, depicting a confused Spiderman posing the question. It has since been used, combined with the original phrasal construct, as a template to fit other memes when the ability to create original content proves elusive.

And at five 'til five, that's about all I had left in me. It was enough to disarm my coworkers long enough to explain the joke and that there was nothing to be done about the ticket at this time; it was an unsupported application and the support for it, being on the east coast, would have closed up shop for the day. A move that we'd be wise to follow.

We'd just have to learn how to fix part another day.

Master of My Domain

Somedays, you just can't get rid of a bomb...

While last week spilled over into last weekend and this week, turning this week into one big ray of sunshine, at least I was able to scrape some redeeming value out of it. Drum roll please...

I am now master of my own domain!

No, I'm not talking about that... As of Monday, gentle reader, you can access this blog by it's very name! Miracles of science and such! Just point your interweb navigational device to http://www.oflifeanddiversion.com - the tubes are such a modern marvel, aren't they? Don't worry: the old URL will still work, but feel free to update your bookmarks and start using the new address.

And if you are reading this and are on Facebook, you can get live updates delivered to your news feed by becoming a fan of this blog's fan page. Just do a search for 'Of Life and Diversion' after you log in - it's the only one there, and you'll know it by the logo. ^_^/

Shameless self-plug, I know... But! I've put a lot of work into getting things up and running, and I'm pretty proud of myself for what I've accomplished in the past two weeks!

As for my labor-induced funk: work be damned. It isn't right what they did, but it is what it is. Don't worry, I'll be back in fighting shape in no time. Luckily, I'm adhering to a pretty strict drink regimen to keep my mind limber. Though I'm really starting to think I need a real vacation... Maybe I'll put in for some time off. I need it. :P

Ain't Life Grand: Maybe the new one will be better

I just took some major heat at work today for a mistake that could have been avoided by several people, but got pinned on me. You know, I can be precisely where I should be, doing precisely what I should be doing at precisely when I should be doing it 99.98% of the time, and no one will give a damn. But I make one misstep, and the foundations of the world begin to crumble.

Ain't life grand?

Know Your Meme: The Fine Art of Trolling

This past weekend, we attended a surprise party for one of our friend's 30th birthday. We had a great time eating grillables, drinking and joking around. It was between those last two things that one of the revelers started to try to get Colin's rage on. The problem with this is that Colin doesn't really get his rage on. Ever. He's pretty reserved, he just starts to look uncomfortable and awkward. When it got to that, I asked the guy to ease up on him a little, and he replied "I'm just building up his troll resistance!"

'Trolling' is the term coined by the internets for the act of saying or doing something online to cause some emotional response, drama or controversy. The psychology alone behind trolling is profound - there are actually published studies on this stuff.

Allow me to get deep for a moment, if you will...

Basically, we act as human beings within a larger social context. This is made up of everything from where and when we grew up to the family we may or may not have, our economic standing to our sense of self. Our interactions with other people, what we can and can't do, say and sometimes feel, and our own internal thought processes are shaped, in no small part, by these social cues and mores.

It is when these things are removed from the overall social interaction equation that things start to get interesting. Think of it: the internet, for most intents and purposes, is anonymous. Sure, there are ways to track people down, but most people don't have the knowledge and means to do so. Even people with the knowledge and means to do so usually will be put off by just how much of a pain in the ass it can turn out to be. Some places on the web make this anonymity very easy, if not the standard, way to communicate with everyone else on the site. (Warning - Those links may or may not be NSFW, and will more likely than not cause your brain to leak out your nose if you spend too much time on them... You've been warned...)

In other words, you don't *have* to be you. You can be a smarter, wiser, wittier you; well, as much as your own intelligence will allow. Definitions of economic stature fades; while it's assumed you have something since you're seated at a computer with an internet connection, there's not much more that can be garnered about you that you don't volunteer. No one needs to know your name, your weight or size, the clothes you wear, your religious or spiritual views, who you're related to, who you know or who your friends are - and you most certainly don't have to let on to anything. You don't even have to be honest about it. It's amazing what can happen to confidence levels when you're just as likely to be a fat slob as a gorgeous knockout. Take this from a guy who played as a catgirl in an online video game for over six years.

And it's this absence of social context and relative anonymity that promote more uninhibited social behavior. People say and do things online that they'd never do in real life. Combine this with the innate desire for entertainment and an active and, many times, all-to-willing audience to respond in an equally uninhibited manner, and you have a perfect storm for trolling.

Once a troll has been recognized for what it is, the drama is sometimes continued by the person countering the original troll with an attempt of their own. This usually leads to a situation where the original topic is completely derailed, causing much rage on the part of the people who actually wanted to discuss the topic while the trolls go back and forth between themselves.

Welcome to The Internets. Check your sanity at the door and take a seat, please.

In the end, it was all in fun, though. Once Colin was on to our friend, and a conciliatory fist bump was had, it was game on between the two for the rest of the evening.

Weekend Intelligence: Squirrel

I had started a blog for the long Memorial Day Weekend, but work and general lack of anything substantive over that weekend made it difficult to talk about. I spent most of it cleaning the house and getting some long overdue maintenance done while the rest of the family was in El Paso. The house looked immaculate for a whopping 48 hours after they got home. -.-; Such is life. This weekend was much more interesting anyway. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights!

Let me take a step back by a few weeks. Early in the morning in early May, during one hell of a rainstorm, a hired hand van visited the home on the corner in our neighborhood. In a few short hours, the cars were towed, all possessions that could be liquidated or had outstanding loans were confiscated and all the rest was tossed out into the front yard. I remember seeing those two children that lived in that house, for the last time, that morning. They looked more than a little in shock; their tired, blank expressions barely masking a fathomless sea of questions; no doubt they were bewildered at what they had experienced that morning and at their parents inability to do anything about it.

The family never did come back for the few things they could have salvaged from the rain. Some of the things had not been on the ground for half a day before some of the neighbors began to pick through it, finding in the rubble some trinket, appliance or tool. Something of value. The pile was pretty thoroughly trash by the time Waste Management came by 3 days later to pick up the remains and toss it in a truck. The only thing left behind at the end of it all was a ruined front lawn, an eerily vacant house, and a small, sleek white house cat with a big bushy black tail.

She sat there for several days after the trash had been removed, patiently waiting for them to come home. After about a week, she started to get hungry and finally, leaving her corner on the patio, began to hunt insects around the neighborhood. It was not long before she caught the vicious eye of some of the children in the neighborhood, who began to terrorize her with shouting, throwing sticks and chunks of brick and rock at her. I even witnessed grown adults in the neighborhood attempt shoo her away with water shot from pressure nozzles.

She didn't act like the ferals in the neighborhood: those nasty, screeching, demonic animals that ambush people as they walk in the evening. No, many times she didn't even really run, just took cover in some bushes until the people got bored and moved along. It was one such day that I was out grilling some burgers, and I saw this pathetic excuse for a kitten in the rock bed next door, eyeing me and what I had on the plate. Her coat had become scraggly and she had lost considerable weight, but the one feature that she still had was that tail of hers.

It's true what they say: don't feed a stray cat unless you want a new cat, but I just couldn't help myself. I cut a small piece of hamburger off and called out to her, "Hey, Squirrel Kitteh! You can has cheezburger?" She shyly made her way over to me, and once she came as close as she cared to, stood up on her hind legs (again, reminding me of a squirrel) and in one swift move, snagged the bit of meat from my hands with her forepaws, crammed it into her mouth and disappeared into the bushes.

It wasn't long before we saw her again. She decided to take up semi-permanent residence in the next-door neighbors bushes during the day to escape the sun. I set a bowl of water out for her in the shade during the day, and at night, she'd hunt the junebugs that bothered us while we sat out and smoked. That worked for a little while, but it became clear that she remembered what it was like to live inside, and wanted to return to that life. So after a little saving up, this past weekend, we trapped her in the garage so we could take her to the vet and get her caught up on all her shots and tests.

I'll tell you, I spent a good couple hours trying to get her into that cat carrier, and still didn't succeed. She did NOT want to go into the box. I asked D for some help. She agreed, and after 2 minutes, single-handedly lured, caught and placed the cat in the carrier. When we arrived at the vet, the receptionist asked us to fill out some initial paperwork. After I had filled it out and gave it back to her, she took one look at the cat and laughed. "Squirrel..." she said with a smile, "Yeah, that about says it, don't it?"

Today, that house still sits vacant, its large, uncovered windows showing off the cavernous inside and empty walls in the light of day. And that front yard is still messed up. It'll need some serious TLC from whoever eventually moves in there. But that cat will, from now on, have her fill of food and water, a comfy place to nap atop a carpeted cat tree, and never again have to worry about children's sticks and stones, the blazing hot sun or the driving South Texas rains.

Week In Review: The Great Telecommute

Clara's daycare was closed the week before Memorial Day, as Noni took in some very much needed R&R down south of the border. Normally we just fall back on an alternate backup, but she was unavailable for the week as well. When our backup for the backup canceled on us, we started sweating a little. I mean, how were we going to sort that week out with no child care? That would mean one of us had to stay home and take the week off, possibly unpaid! Or does it...

There I go. Thinking again. What have I warned myself about thinking... I posed the issue to my manager and he agreed that it would be OK this once to set my phone up with mobility to the house number and let me remote in from home. After all, I just had to stay on top of my service requests, take calls that come in and be available for questions on issues as they arise. Nothing I can't do from the comfort of my own home!

Now, don't get me wrong. I've read all the literature and all the reports, all coming to the same conclusion that telecommuting is the next best thing since this. Don't click that. But none of them took into account trying to present oneself as an IT professional in the presence of a 3 year old. So, for your entertainment, here are the best WTF moments, presented as a week in review.

Disclaimer: Never let it be said that I didn't warn you of the destructive potential of children.

WTF Moment #1: On the very first day... No... I can't even call it that, because the day had not really started yet. Clara decided that it was time to get up at the butt-crack of 4am. This child goes to bed after we do and wakes up before us. D was good enough to get up and get her ready for me for the day, but shortly after she had left, Clara decided that it was time to wake me up with a vengeance. She dropped trou and let loose (in all senses possible) all over the carpet in the loft. As if to add insult to injury, she tracked it a few times across the air uptake to the central air unit, then burst into my room squealing. I had just changed her into clean clothes and begun to clean that up when she performed an encore downstairs. It was clear that this week was to rock like no other.

WTF Moment #2: As I'm trying to confirm a complicated procedure with a client, Clara runs into my office and, at the very top of her lungs, screams in an otherworldly shrill voice "DADDY I POO POO ON FLOOR EWW STINKY!" I'm glad I didn't have to explain that one to the customer: she'd already had three of her own and saluted my efforts in attempting to work from home with a toddler.

WTF Moment #3: After logging into the call queue for the morning, I hear a scuffle in the kitchen, followed by a loud thud and a yelping dog. I go over to the dining area to find Clara with a salt shaker, no doubt procured from the cabinets above and, after using Suzie to break her fall from the counter, began lightly salting herself and the carpet and tasting it. I asked her what she was doing, to which she could only respond by looking cute and stating that it "need salt."

WTF Moment #4: Clara has been pretty good with potty-training, despite my ranting on here to the contrary. It's only the mornings and while she's sleeping that get her. Most of the time, she goes to the restroom all by herself and only needs some help getting dressed afterward. So it's not unusual to hear the toilet flush at random. It is unusual to hear it flush 4-5 times in a row in quick succession, followed by some angry backtalk from the plumbing. Artur always said "Plumbing don't talk," so I decided to see what my child had summoned. Turns out, whatever it was, she was trying to appease it by feeding it toilet paper. She had placed one end of the roll into the toilet, and was watching it spin wildly as she flushed. When she saw I wasn't anywhere remotely as amused as she was, she tried to explain herself, saying "Daddy, potty eating! Om Nom Nom!"

I couldn't help by crack a smile.

Cut To The Chase

You will never believe what happened to me this morning! I hardly believe it myself. I was going about my morning routine: washing up, prepping Clara, getting ready for work - when I heard a strange noise from the downstairs living room. It sounded like someone was shuffling through the drawers in the kitchen. Colin had long since left for school. I grabbed a camping knife I keep upstairs and slowly crept down the staircase. There was a tall man in the kitchen, rummaging through the junk drawer: I wasn't alone in the house...

Just as soon as he realized I had caught him, he bolted out the front door and into the hazy morning. It was just instinct to run after him. I chased him down the block, around the corner and down the main street. Adrenaline fed my heart and feet, and I slowly gained on him as he fled into the wooded area west of the neighborhood. He vaulted over the brush, but I still recklessly pursued him into the forest. Try as I might, however, I lost sight of him, and track of my surroundings.

Lost. In the middle of the woods. On a work day. Chasing some no-doubt crazy person I caught in my home. Only me...

The trail suddenly went from stone cold to on fire: the man had tried to get behind me and run the other way while I had lost sight of him. He, however, didn't see the large tree branch on the ground, tripped and landed with a thud. I ran toward the commotion just in time to see him get back to his feet. This was my chance! I ran at him with everything I had and shoulder slammed him face first into the dirt.

“Game over, asshole!” I said as I stood over him, knife in hand. At first, he was very stunned as he held his bleeding nose, but to my surprise he began to laugh. Admittedly, this had me a little rattled. It was all I could to keep from kicking him. “And what’s so funny?” He replied, through his bloodied nose and laughter, “Read the first word of each paragraph!”

Weekend Intelligence: Campfire Rule

It had been several years since the last time I'd been camping and fishing, but I finally broke that this weekend. While we didn't really catch much of anything, Colin and I had a great time up at Pace Bend. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights.

It didn't take much to get the Vue packed up and readied early Saturday morning. Colin was up at the crack of dawn, and very excited to get going. We had spent much of the past week cleaning the garage, packing clothes and gear for the trip and staging everything we'd need in the newly-cleaned garage. The day before the trip, D decided she didn't want to go, so it was just going to be Colin and I, which made it a father-son trip of the sort we'd never had before.

After a quick breakfast at Whataburger, we struck out north. It took almost two hours to reach the park. This was going to be great: setup camp, maybe some mid-afternoon fishing and brews... This is when I looked behind me and started to wonder where the fishing poles were. -.-; In the craziness that was trying to get everything else ready, I had forgotten to pack them! We took a small detour into a nearby town to visit their local Target store. Colin got one of those slingshot fishing pole launcher hooberwhatsits, so he was arguably happier than if we had brought his boring old neon green one that was mine when I was his age. A quick stop for lunch and we were back on the trail.

We met up with Didi (one of D's friends from HS) who had been there since the night before. She was there with her guy and had put the word out for several of their friends to stop in. After getting the massive tent set up and the gear moved into it, we packed a few beers and hit the shores. Didi was really the only one who caught anything - a handful of brim and a baby wide-mouth bass. The rest of us got a few hits on the line, but nothing to pull in. It was all good though, as Colin had a blast and the rest of us had a reason to drink. ;)

When we got back, a few more people had showed up, and we decided to get the campfire started. We cooked hot dogs and s'mores, sat, drank and BS'ed well into the late evening hours. Haven't had relaxation on that level in quite a while. After it was dark, we decided to stumble down to the shore one more time to try to catch catfish. No catfish, but the cliff side rocks bit me good as I lost my footing in a break in the rocks and dashed my shin on them. I'm sure the SoCo had nothing to do with it.

When we got back to camp, we watched the fire slowly die out before calling it a night. We started to dispose of burnable trash in the fire, when Colin asked what could and couldn't be thrown in. I gave him the simple rundown of the campfire burnables rule:

• If it burns, burn it.
• If you're not sure that it burns, burn it anyway.
• If you know it doesn't burn, throw it away.

And we wondered why we had a pretty green sheen on all the hot dogs. :P

Well, the weekend is now over, and I'm glad we had a good time together. Colin can't wait for the next time we go out camping, and who knows? Maybe we'll even be able to convince his mom to come with.

Ain't Life Grand: Tent Cities

This week, one of the main event preparations I had to make was getting the tent seams sealed for the season. This involves actually setting the tent up. Colin was all over that. So were all his friends, and before long, so were all THEIR friends. At one point we had over a dozen kids buzzing around the house, poking in and out of tents and playing fortress games.

It reminded me of when I was a kiddo and my parents would let us set things up like that in the yards or basement. So much fun - I think that's part of the reason I love camping. He was having so much fun, I almost didn't want to pull him away for dinner. Anyway, just before running back outside after dinner to rejoin the fray, he looked at me and his mother and said "This has got to be one of the best days of my life!"

Ain't life grand?

Know Your Meme: Amber Lamps

Today at work, I recieved a phone call from a very distressed customer. You see, there were blinking lights on their email server. Blinking lights, kids, and yellow ones, at that. I asked her if she, or anyone else for that matter, was experiencing any issues with email delivery. She told me she hadn't noticed anything wrong, but those lights sure were blinking.

Blinking yellow lights, folks...

After due diligence, I found there was nothing wrong with the server beside being as old as God. I was, unfortunately, unable to troubleshoot the color of the lights on the server remotely. >.>; Sarcasm aside, I had to create a ticket to check out the server, since I had spent time on it. I decided to have some fun with it, and in the subject light, entered "Amber Lamps on server."

In case that link is a teal deer for you, let me break it down for you. Amber Lamps is a spin-off from the viral video from early this year dubbed Epic Beard Man. In the video, a "fist fight" breaks out on a metro bus between a black man and an older white man (who happens to have a rather gnarly beard) over some alleged racial something-or-other. The video starts just shy of a minute or so before the actual fight, so you never actually see or hear the beginning of the initial argument. And I use "fist fight" loosely; the black man threw the first punch and then was pummeled to a paste by the older man.

Over the course of this entire episode, there are many people yelling and hollering, shuffling around and egging on the two men to fight. There is, however, one lone figure who simply sat and watched the whole act play out, listening to her music on giant headphones, a genuine look of complete disinterest in the beat down happening mere feet from her.

The older man was escorted off the bus as the other limped back to his seat. When asked if he needed any help, he replied he might need an ambulance. It is this statement that is the cause for the spin-off. You see, his reply was rather unintelligible, likely from the injuries he took, and it sounds like he's calling for Amber Lamps. As you can imagine, the interwebs instantly caught that and ran with it, eventually turning it into a moniker for the cool-headed chick in the headphones.

Weekend Intelligence: A One Car Garage

Inertia is rough: it's one thing to want to do something, but making all the preparations to actually get that something to happen is a completely different matter. While the outdoorsy bug has bitten, there are a lot of things that have to be done to make it possible to go on a trip. All things that I decided to try to knock out this weekend. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights.

Backing up a few steps, I had wanted to go fishing this weekend, weather permitting. Well, it didn't: it rained and hard this weekend. When it became clear that it wasn't going to happen, after updating the few folks that had said they'd be interested in going out, one of DeAnn's friends said they were planning a camping trip to Pace Bend Park for the next weekend. Awesome! All I need to do is get my stuff in order...

After staying up entirely too late on Friday night, and the subsequent rousting at the crack of dawn by Clara being Clara, we decide we'll get some of the things we'll need at the weekly supply run. I think I may have successfully given the bug to D; since Clara would need her own gear, it was the perfect opportunity to get all sorts of cute princess camping gear. By the time we got out of the sporting goods, Clara had a Disney Princess sleeping bag, folding chair, fishing pole set and camping flashlight/lantern. We also got new sleeping bags and a new tackle box for the fishing supplies.

It's not that I didn't already have several sleeping bags and a tackle box. It's that these had been stowed away in the portal to the abyss that we call the garage for years. You see, we've been living in this house for going on 4 years now. Even in the beginning, we piled all the things that had been taking up space in the tiny storage closet we had at the apartment. It started out neat enough, but several years of stacking crap on crap turned the garage into a pit of despair. This practice got immeasurably worse during and following the Great Flood. By that point, we weren't even really stacking things neatly anymore; junk was just being thrown on top of the pile. At one point, I couldn't even wheel my grill out to cook on it - it had started to become one with the pit.

To top it off, the Texas wildlife had built their own miniature refuge. It had become it's own sick ecosystem: live bugs and spiders, dirt and grass clippings, insect nests, skeletal remains of small vermin, newts and toads. A feral cat had even once considered it a litter box and left several mementos in the far back. You know you have something to fear when you start to see dead cockroaches. Something that has proven perfectly capable of surviving global cataclysmic events met its end in my garage. Be afraid...

Anyway, the tackle box had long since been destroyed in an avalanche of crap, and this being Texas, God knows what's living in the sleeping bags. The folding chairs were wrapped in cobwebs and the fishing poles were snapped under the weight of falling boxes. The absolutely awesome Goldfish cooler had become buried in the strata of junk, no doubt well on it's way to becoming a diamond. It came down to the fact that if I really wanted to ever go camping and fishing again, I would need to excavate my gear from the garage, which meant cleaning the garage.

/sigh...

Ok... OK! I'll do it! I spent the rest of that day hauling just about everything, scuz and all, into the disinfecting light of day. The entire floor was thoroughly swept twice. All the shelving was wiped down with cleaner. I mounted two brackets to hold hoses and extension cords. Anything that I hauled out that could be salvaged was brushed off and wiped down. The rest was trashed. I found my old ginormous tent, still intact, if not dirty. Most of the folding chairs were OK, too, just needed a good shaking out. Colin's fishing pole was good, but the reel was shot. My fishing pole was shot, but the reel was OK. -.-; The tackle box was crushed to smithereens, but most of the tackle was intact. I had to stop about 5 feet from the back wall because the dumpster was completely full. But at least I can park the car in the garage now. I haven't been able to do that since... well... never.

The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful after that. I was hurting something fierce the next day, but it was worth it. If I can find a nice day next week, I'll have Colin help me look for the base tarpaulins, set up the tent and seal the seams for the season. It's gonna be a rocking summer, I can feel it!

Know Your Meme: The Epic of Technoviking

We've come to the conclusion at work that one of our coworkers is stuck in the Internet Tube circa 2003 as far as meme knowledge is concerned. This is dissapointing, since we work at a tech services company. It is being steadily corrected, but it has made for some rather WTF moments when something is referenced that he's pretty clueless about.

This week, someone sprung for sodas for the office. Nothing too noteworthy about this, but he passed them out upside down, as an "Offering a la Technoviking." LOLs were had all around, except for our poor friend who was more o.O? than LOL. This HAD to be made right. I decided to relate the Epic of Technoviking while trying to find a version of the video that hadn't been ripped down...

In the beginning, there was the Blue-Haired Dancing Girl. And she danced to the beat of the drum. She beckoned all to dance to the beat of the drum, and the crowd reveled. There was much rejoicing. But, like anything good, such revelry can only be had for so long before some asshat will try to ruin it for everyone. Thus it was that a Wild Asshat appeared and proceeded to grope the Blue-Haired Dancing Girl.

The Asshat would have rained emo on the whole parade, if it were not for a lone stranger of immense strength and stature. He was girt for battle in the ancient, traditional Industrial tribal manner: his beard braided and hair shorn, clad only in long forest green shorts, various charms and pendants and 40lb combat boots. The stranger, the Technoviking, would not stand for this Asshat's asshattery. He caught the Asshat by the arms as he tried to escape, demanding an explanation of his transgressions. The Asshat did try the Technoviking with deceptive arts, but the Technoviking prevailed. And with his epic point he did send the Asshat packing.

At this point, feeling quite angered and exhausted by the ordeal, he signaled it was time to march. No one knows how far the Technoviking would have made the crowd to march, or what he would have lead them to, but he lead them just the same. And they did follow, knowing that to stray would further provoke his wrath. In an effort to appease the Technoviking's wrath, a bald wizard approached the Technoviking with an offering from a land no doubt in the Far East: Upside-down Water.

And the offering did appease the Technoviking. He was refreshed and renewed. And thus he began to dance. He danced in his 40lb boots with the crowd to the beat of the drum. There was much rejoicing. During the wild dancing, a educated man, educated in the ways of education, came to the Technoviking, and presented him with miniature books of hidden knowledge. As tempted as the Technoviking was to eschew his tribal ways, he held fast to that which he knew was his destined purpose. The Technoviking does not read; the Technoviking dances! And as the beat of the drum intensified, he did tear it in half with his bare hands and continued to dance.

He danced in his 40lb boots with the crowd to the bead of the drum. There was much rejoicing.

Ain't Life Grand: Teach a Young Man to Fish

While at WalMart early this weekend with Colin, I decided to renew my fishing license. He asked why I was doing that, and I said I have wanted to take him fishing and camping for a while, and was thinking about planning a trip out to one of the parks sometime soon. Colin seemed pretty excited at the prospect of getting out of town to go fishing and camping with me.

I have to admit: I'm pretty excited at that prospect, too. Ain't life grand?

Maybe I'll Go Outside This Year

I dunno if it has something to do with the weather getting nicer in the evenings, there being more daylight when I'm available to enjoy it or just getting tired of the same old routine day in and day out, but every year around this time I get to wishing I could take a break, pack up my fishing and camping gear and get out of town for a few days.

Some time down by the water always did my soul good, and God knows I could use the vacation. In fact, I used to go fishing almost every weekend and camping semi-regularly at Gavins Point, and as far north as Lake Itasca, before I moved and started a life here in Texas. I didn't really think about it much the first year or so because I was simply amazed at how people did anything when it was Sands of Africa hot outside. We lived in a tiny bottom-floor apartment and D and I both worked our asses off: the tent and poles found a cozy home in the outside storage closet.

As time has worn on, though, I've found myself wanting to go on that first trip in years. You know, before it gets too ungodly hot. I almost did last year, too. I bought a fishing license that I never used. But the important thing is I bought it and I could have used it. Prepping the supplies is as easy as spending a nice spring evening setting up the tent and resealing the seams, finding the tackle box in the garage and making sure I have a working fishing rod after all these years.

But maybe, just maybe, I'll go out this year...

Weekend Intelligence: Kids will play

To be honest, I was considering not writing an entry for this weekend. Save the 1st birthday BBQ thrown by one of my coworkers and the relaxing Saturday night, there really wasn't much to write about. But I figured I had a good thing going and I'd like to keep it that way. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights.

D was starting to feel sick on Friday, and by Saturday morning had a full-on cold. Since the kids were bouncing off the walls, I told Colin to go out and play. Clara was VERY upset that he was heading out, and proceeded to put her shoes on and run out the door after him. The both of them went over to the house across the street to play with the neighbor kids. Colin has friends in the neighborhood, but this was really the first time Clara had gone outside to play with other kids. She quickly became good friends with one of the little girls, while I sat on the porch and enjoyed the gorgeous Saturday morning.

Later that day, a coworker was throwing a first birthday party for his daughter, so I brought the kids and some beer and let D get some rest. The children had no problems inventing games, one which involved tearing down a dead tree with their bare hands... The coworker didn't seem to mind much; he was going to take it down in the next few weeks anyway, so they were doing him a favor by weakening it a bit.

I think it's good for her to get outside and play with the other kids. Colin can be shy, but eventually will open up and socialize with others. Clara hasn't had much interaction with others besides the few kids and adults she sees everyday. I was happy to see her adjust and have fun in new social settings. I don't know if it's a milestone or anything, just something I hadn't noticed her do before.

Know Your Meme: Meh

Recently, I stated that I was feeling "very meh" in a Facebook status comment. That's not incredibly surprising, as I typically feel meh about a great deal of things. Certainly not blogworthy. It's the response, the only response, to the status that got me.

"Meh? What does this mean?"

O.O God bless her, she's a really kind-hearted person, and was asking in complete honesty. The interweb elves must have missed a few neighborhoods, I guess. But it got me thinking for a moment: how do you qualitatively define something as broadly encompassing as 'meh?' It's like trying to explain the therapeutic benefits of bubble wrap popping or why this is so entertaining. Harder, really...

I guess with something like 'meh,' it'd be easier explaining what it is not. Basically, it's when something (including your mood) is not funny enough to laugh at, not sad enough to frown at, not crazy enough to shout out about, and not urgent enough to warrant getting up and doing something.

For example: imagine someone you are acquainted with lost something trivial. A quarter, let's say. And let's say, for argument's sake, that they have no internal monologue, no concept of cognitive relevancy and no social filter and blurt out to you that they have lost said quarter. What would you do? You probably wouldn't smile or laugh. Even considering this person is one step up from a complete stranger, that's still kind of rude. You probably wouldn't laugh internally either - it's just a quarter, after all. Same reason you wouldn't frown or be sad for his loss, at least not with any degree of sincerity. You likely won't call your best friend/spouse/mom and dad to let them know about this poor, strange schmuck loosing his two bits. Lastly, you're not likely to drop what you're doing (likely much more important than a quarter) to really scour for his missing coin. Oh sure, you might look around your feet for a few seconds, but then you'd probably shrug your shoulders, give him the obligatory "Wow, that sucks" to give that small, if not unenthusiastic, impression of sympathy and be on your way.

And I guess that's really the best definition of 'meh': the verbal equivalent to a shrug of the shoulders.

Ain't Life Grand: Pop and Walk-off

An update on how much of a bitch payback can be:

Clara had a really hard time getting up this morning. I tried the usually gently calling her name and rubbing her back to wake her up, but she just wasn't having any of it. Just when I was about to give up and bodily haul her out of bed, I noticed her corn popper leaning against the post of her bed...

>.>

<.<

>:D

After quietly clearing some of the clutter out of the way, I proceeded to run around her room, pushing the popper and laughing, finally bursting out hysterically just before ramming that damned thing into the bedpost at the head of her bed.

She sat up, glared at me and said, "OK, Daddy. I awake."

Ain't life grand?

Weekend Intelligence: Pop and Walk

Since the daycare and schools were closed for Battle of Flowers, I took that Friday off to spend with the kiddos. Seriously, Texas is looking for ANY reason to close up shop for the day. I wouldn't be surprised if kids will get the first day of school off as a holiday in the near future. LOLs and lack of sleep, BBQs and Corn Poppers: this weekend had it all. And let's not forget the return of this classic tag line: So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights.

I swear Clara has found a way to break free of the need for sleep. She sleeps maybe 3-4 hours at a time, and then is up for hours. This includes overnight and means she's up well before the crack of dawn most days. D still had to get to work on Friday, and shortly after she left, Clara got up to let me know "Momma gone!" D:! She was upset! I spent the rest of the morning chasing the kids around and generally just trying to keep the house from falling apart. We got a chaotic lunch in with D over near where she works. As crazy as they are, she was happy to see them and get away from work for a few.

We were invited to a Saturday BBQ that one of my wife's coworkers was hosting. After watching Colin school 3 grown adults at Texas Hold 'Em and a massive potty training failure courtesy of Clara, I was voluntold by my lovely wife to go get the grilling started. I didn't mind, really. Truth be told, I get nervous around large groups of people I don't know or don't know very well, and being the 'Grillmeister' at a BBQ is something of a social crutch for me:

• People are prone to be friendly to the cook - something about subconsciously not wanting scorched food.
• I have something to talk about with random people. "So, I see you have a fire there? Yup. Fire sure is hot. Yup."
• I like alcohol, and if there is going to be alcohol, it generally gets to the people around the grill first. See first item in the list.
  
• If everything else fails me, I can just be too absorbed in the act of cooking to really interact with the crowd.

Luckily for me, only the first three of that list applied. People hung out and brought me a beer, we chatted it up and had a great time. Sooo much food, I hear that there was quite the spread of leftovers.

Sunday morning started with a BANG. Literally. See, Clara was doing her "I don't need sleep" thing, and decided that it would be an excellent idea to get her corn popper push toy out at 6 in the morning and start running around the loft with it, laughing maniacally and running into walls and doors.

My door.

Did I mention it was B.F. of early on a Sunday morning? Just making sure. Anyway, she ran headlong into the bedroom door with the corn popper while screaming/laughing at the top of her lungs. And through all of this, D didn't budge an inch. Not even a skip in her snoring. I opened the bedroom door as Clara was backing up and preparing another charge. Very surprised that her unholy ruckus would wake anyone, she took an off step back and fell over. I don't think she'd ever been hauled to her room so quickly. I set her on the changing table and had a few words with her:

"Clara, what is wrong with you?!" I asked in a forceful, yet whispered tone.
"I dunno!" she replied, also whispered.
"Clara, what is Colin doing?"
"Colin sleeping."
"What is mommy doing?"
"Momma sleeping," she said as she started to grin. She liked this game.
"What does daddy wish he could be doing?"
"...sleeping?" she whispered nervously. This one stumped her, apparently.
"THEN WHY AREN'T YOU SLEEPING!?" I asked as loud and forcibly as a whisper would let me.

She jumped down off the table and into bed, I tucked her in and she let me sleep for another hour or so... I figured I'd just go get donuts and start the Sunday Morning routine, then snuggle with D for a bit until it was time to really get up. Didn't work out so well: the whole sleep deprivation thing over the course of several days at the hands of Clara meant I didn't just snuggle, I crashed until 11. Clara cried about something, prompting D to launch from bed in a frenzied panic, going off about how late it was. Suuuuure, NOW she hears Clara... -.-; Somehow, we still managed to salvage the day - did our shopping, got the kids their summer haircuts and knocked some laundry out before calling it a weekend.

I could use a day off to recover from my weekend. A work week will have to suffice, I guess.

A New Book

Well, folks. By now, you've probably noticed that I've fallen off the face of the world as far as blogging is concerned. There've been a lot of changes and trials going on in my life in the last year or more, and this blog kinda fell by the wayside.

What's interesting is that everytime I thought back on my poor, lonely piece of internet and wanting to update it with something interesting, I felt what can only be described as a paralyzing pressure to explain why I've let it go so long, to make that post interesting or insightful or particularly humorous and to make sure I get back "on schedule" with my posts. Whatever that means. I have guilt issues I guess, and with something that I created to give me an outlet against those same issues.

But you gotta have a sense of humor about life, right? Or you'll wind up with a nervous twitch, chewing on your keyboard in a padded room. Your choice.

I won't be bringing you up to speed in one post. There's just waaaay too much going on and most people that read this blog hear a good bit of my day-to-day chaos right from me anyway. For the folks that I don't talk to, I'm sure you'll get the tune after I hum a few bars. And I'm not going to keep a schedule, either. I'll blog when I feel like it and when I feel like I have something to share.

I will start off by saying that I've quit Final Fantasy 11 since I last posted. It just needed too much time and too much energy, and I just couldn't keep up and stay on task with everything else going on in life. To that end, long-time visitors will notice that there is a big empty space on the right where a whole bunch of FFXI stuff used to be. I'll figure out something to put there. FFXI was instrumental in getting me to where I am today, but the time had come to move on to bigger and better things.

Things like professional training. In the year or so since the last post, I have worked to become Microsoft certified every which way from Tuesday. I've had the experience and knowledge for a long time now, just never the official seal of approval that I actually might know what I'm talking about. I have one more test to take for the last cert I'll be working on for a while. So, with my training, experience and degree, you'd think I'd have been promoted a few times by now, but management has been dragging feet for the last couple of months on the proceedurals. I've been keeping the heat on them, though, and I'm still hopeful that something will budge soon.

I've also picked up smoking again for the first time since high school. I'm currently and perpetually working toward quitting, but I'm having a hard time replacing them with something that is both satisfying and not soaked in calories. What can I say? The body remembers what felt good.

D is still D. Despite being the gorgeous woman I married, the poor dear still had a bit of a life crisis when the realization that she was turning 30 hit her. I surprised her with a trip out to San Marcos to go tandem sky diving for her birthday, with a good friend of hers from back in the day in El Paso. :) Clara is still Clara - just less toddler and more preschooler. Fearless and self-confident and 100% princess. She's cute and she knows it, which can make discipline exasperating at times. Potty training has gone well and now generally only needs a pull-up while sleeping. Colin has hit his tweens full stride. He's a good kid, but he tests his boundaries everyday. I say it's good for him, as long as he's learning from them when he hits one head first.

Anyway, it's good to be back at it, that's for sure. Comical or tragic, it's definitely cathartic, and I've missed it. I hope you find as much enjoyment reading my ramblings as I do writing them.