My wife said that I'd probably end up blogging about this. "Naaaaaah," I said. "I'd rather not relive the trauma." I guess she was right...
It's no secret that the vast majority of men don't like shopping. Okay, it's not that we don't like shopping per se, it's that we shop in a manner entirely different from how women shop, and for completely different things. Men decide that they want something, go get it, and head home, triumphant in their quest. I suspect that this goes back to our days as cavemen. When we went hunting, we knew what we were hunting for, and roughly where it could be located. We went out, got our prey, and came home, victoriously carrying our quarry.
Women, on the other hand, were gatherers. Yeah, they knew approximately what they'd be gathering, roughly where it was located, and about when the food they were gathering was approaching "end of season close-out." But they still had to search for the most adequate food... look for just the right vegetable to go with that newly gathered tubor, and they both had to be ripe to the exact same extent. In other words, women became shoppers due to evolution.
Fast-forward to the present day. Most men think that shoppping with women is absolute torture. We'd rather have a sharp stick in the eye, or electricity applied to our genitals -- and no, not in that kinky foreplay sort of way -- I'm talking about real electricity here. Yet somehow I ended up taking my older daughter shopping for a swimsuit for swim team yesterday. And I not only took her, I also was accompanied by my wife and younger daughter. Naturally, I was on a budget, the clearance-priced suits were all too small, even the inexpensive ones about 20% more than I had budgeted, and she gravitated to the most expensive ones.
Once my wife successfully steered my daughter toward the swimsuits that were only slightly out of my price range (thanks honey), I experienced the "sorting" stage of women's shopping. This is where the women-folk went through and found every single swimsuit that might possibly fit and put them into a try-on pile, which nearly reached the ceiling of a two-story store. They had to ask the sales lady for a ladder, in order to reach the top of the stack (and add more). There's another hour or so of my life that I'll never get back. Not only will I not get that time back, but I am traumatized by the experience, and will probably have flashbacks every time I walk into what used to be my favorite sporting goods store. (Side note: We went there, because I've already taken my daughter to three department stores, all of which were out of swimming suits because winter's on its way.)
Next came the try-on phase. Yes, she tried on every single one of those suits, and yes, I had to give my opinion on every suit. I've been through enough of this though, to only tell her when I thought the suit was too big or too small. Beyond that, I threw it back at her. "Do you like it, honey?" As a backup, she hit my wife and her sister up on their thoughts. Yep, you guessed it, another hour of my life gone, and another flashback next time I go to my former favorite sporting goods store.
Then came the implied "That's not fair" whine from my younger daughter...
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"How much are you spending on Sissy's swimsuit?"
"I'm not gonna tell you that."
"Can I buy something?"
"Not today." Let the pouting begin.
Later I explained to my younger daughter that I'm a little tight on money, and promised to take her out to spend some money in a couple of weeks, which means that I'm probably going to get to repeat this whole adventure.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Saturday, October 15, 2005
The Gerbil Odyssey
I recently had the opportunity to hunt for the illusive and dangerous domesticated gerbil, or as it's known in scientific circles, gerbilus domesticus. The hunt was an epic tale on par with The Iliad, and is certainly worthy of retelling. So, without further ado, I bring you the Gerbil Odyssey.
With fear in her eyes, my older daughter came bursting in to the bedroom of my lovely bride and I. So full of nervousness was she that she could scarcely relay the cause of her terror. She had spotted the domesticated gerbil running unfettered throughout our domicile. Knowing the damage this rare and exotic creature could do those unprepared or ill-equipped to face such a fierce foe, the damsel in distress came to her knight. Since I, her knight, was slumbering with my lady, I wasn't exactly "in" my shining armor, but fortunately it was hanging on a nearby hook.
Sensing the terror my damsel felt, I heroically donned my armor and began my quest to capture the dreaded gerbil. After carefully surveying the quarters, I spotted my foe. He had cleverly concealed himself beneath the cauldron in our cooking area. After considering my options, I aroused my she-squire, the owner of this dreaded beast. "My sword," I cried!
"But sire, your sword is at the armory being polished for your next jousting match," answered my she-squire.
Realizing that time was of the essence, I determined that I must improvise and choose a different weapon. "A broom," I called!
"Yes sire," she replied, handing me my ad hoc fighting tool. As I grasped the broom, my dreaded foe stared back at me, daring me to engage in combat. Sensing my resolve, he chose to withdraw to the far corner of the cauldron, forcing me to confront him in his native environment.
Preferring to capture my foe, rather than sentence him to death, I began to gently yet firmly thrust my makeshift weapon under the cauldron. "Curses," I exclaimed! "This weapon is too unwieldy. It will not fit under the cauldron, and is therefore unsuitable. She-squire! Fetch me a thinner jousting tool!"
"But sire, we have no such instrument in the house," she responded, alarmed.
"Surely we must have something suitable for the task at hand," I retorted. As I did a mental inventory of the tools available for this quest, it came to me! "Fetch me the long-handled duster," I commanded.
"Right away, sire."
By this time, all of the damsels in the kingdom had heard of my epic mission, and had come to observe. All of them, that is, except for the mongrels, who were safely locked away, lest grave harm should come to them.
As all of these events transpired, I took note of my surroundings, evaluating the danger to myself and the princesses in my charge. "Stay back," I sternly reminded them. "This beast is dangerous and wiley. You cannot predict what such a predator may do when cornered. I must demand that you give this creature room, for your own safety."
"But what about you," inquired my lady?
"Fear not for me. I am accustomed to exactly this sort of danger," I calmly reminded her, as my she-squire handed me my thin lance. I attempted to insert my thin lance beneath the cauldron. Success!
After my thin lance was fully inserted in the space beneath the cauldron, I began to sweep the weapon across the cauldron area. Another setback. Something prevented me from running my lance cleanly across the area underneath the cauldron. Curses! Again, I considered my available options for capturing the feared domesticated gerbil. My foe came to the front of his chosen arena, daring me to confront him.
There was no choice. Though I am humble by nature, I was forced to show all who witnessed the event my physical and intellectual superiority over my foe and my obstacles. I handed my thin lance to my she-squire and instructed her to withdraw.
I then stood at full height, and began moving the immense cauldron from its cooking area, drawing it into the middle of the cooking room, despite the fact that it required a great deal of concentration and strength, and despite the fact that I was without a weapon while I moved the cauldron. The damsels couldn't help but gasp at my show of physical prowess and bravery.
And then the tables of the battle turned dramatically. Though he still glared at me defiantly, I could see a twinge of fear in my foe's eyes. He realized that I had altered the playing field, that he had lost his territorial advantage, and backed into a corner where the cauldron formerly stood.
While I knew that I was mere moments away from total victory over my opponent, experience reminded me that I could not let my guard down, for there is nothing more dangerous than a cornered foe. They are doubly ferocious, doubly unpredictable, and therefore, doubly dangerous. Calling upon this experience, I reminded the damsels to stay back, lest the beast escape and do them harm.
Once assured that the women were safe, I moved in for the capture. Sensing the end of freedom was near, the gerbil gave up all pretense of bravery and attempted to scurry away, just as I was blocking off all escape routes. The situation became more intense, and more desparate, as I tightened the dragnet. Intuitively knowing that its very freedom was at stake, gerbilus domesticus used every ounce of strength, every bit of cunning, and all of its immense dexterity in attempting to escape. In the end though, all of his clever gambits proved futile, and I recaptured the illusive gerbil. I completely cornered him, and in a moment of inattention, I caught him unaware, grasped him up, and returned him to captivity, none the worse for wear.
The women cheered and showered me with gratitude and affection. After the fervor had died down, I instructed my she-squire to return my weapons to the armory, shed my armor, and washed away the perspiration of the day's tribulation. Then I went to work.
With fear in her eyes, my older daughter came bursting in to the bedroom of my lovely bride and I. So full of nervousness was she that she could scarcely relay the cause of her terror. She had spotted the domesticated gerbil running unfettered throughout our domicile. Knowing the damage this rare and exotic creature could do those unprepared or ill-equipped to face such a fierce foe, the damsel in distress came to her knight. Since I, her knight, was slumbering with my lady, I wasn't exactly "in" my shining armor, but fortunately it was hanging on a nearby hook.
Sensing the terror my damsel felt, I heroically donned my armor and began my quest to capture the dreaded gerbil. After carefully surveying the quarters, I spotted my foe. He had cleverly concealed himself beneath the cauldron in our cooking area. After considering my options, I aroused my she-squire, the owner of this dreaded beast. "My sword," I cried!
"But sire, your sword is at the armory being polished for your next jousting match," answered my she-squire.
Realizing that time was of the essence, I determined that I must improvise and choose a different weapon. "A broom," I called!
"Yes sire," she replied, handing me my ad hoc fighting tool. As I grasped the broom, my dreaded foe stared back at me, daring me to engage in combat. Sensing my resolve, he chose to withdraw to the far corner of the cauldron, forcing me to confront him in his native environment.
Preferring to capture my foe, rather than sentence him to death, I began to gently yet firmly thrust my makeshift weapon under the cauldron. "Curses," I exclaimed! "This weapon is too unwieldy. It will not fit under the cauldron, and is therefore unsuitable. She-squire! Fetch me a thinner jousting tool!"
"But sire, we have no such instrument in the house," she responded, alarmed.
"Surely we must have something suitable for the task at hand," I retorted. As I did a mental inventory of the tools available for this quest, it came to me! "Fetch me the long-handled duster," I commanded.
"Right away, sire."
By this time, all of the damsels in the kingdom had heard of my epic mission, and had come to observe. All of them, that is, except for the mongrels, who were safely locked away, lest grave harm should come to them.
As all of these events transpired, I took note of my surroundings, evaluating the danger to myself and the princesses in my charge. "Stay back," I sternly reminded them. "This beast is dangerous and wiley. You cannot predict what such a predator may do when cornered. I must demand that you give this creature room, for your own safety."
"But what about you," inquired my lady?
"Fear not for me. I am accustomed to exactly this sort of danger," I calmly reminded her, as my she-squire handed me my thin lance. I attempted to insert my thin lance beneath the cauldron. Success!
After my thin lance was fully inserted in the space beneath the cauldron, I began to sweep the weapon across the cauldron area. Another setback. Something prevented me from running my lance cleanly across the area underneath the cauldron. Curses! Again, I considered my available options for capturing the feared domesticated gerbil. My foe came to the front of his chosen arena, daring me to confront him.
There was no choice. Though I am humble by nature, I was forced to show all who witnessed the event my physical and intellectual superiority over my foe and my obstacles. I handed my thin lance to my she-squire and instructed her to withdraw.
I then stood at full height, and began moving the immense cauldron from its cooking area, drawing it into the middle of the cooking room, despite the fact that it required a great deal of concentration and strength, and despite the fact that I was without a weapon while I moved the cauldron. The damsels couldn't help but gasp at my show of physical prowess and bravery.
And then the tables of the battle turned dramatically. Though he still glared at me defiantly, I could see a twinge of fear in my foe's eyes. He realized that I had altered the playing field, that he had lost his territorial advantage, and backed into a corner where the cauldron formerly stood.
While I knew that I was mere moments away from total victory over my opponent, experience reminded me that I could not let my guard down, for there is nothing more dangerous than a cornered foe. They are doubly ferocious, doubly unpredictable, and therefore, doubly dangerous. Calling upon this experience, I reminded the damsels to stay back, lest the beast escape and do them harm.
Once assured that the women were safe, I moved in for the capture. Sensing the end of freedom was near, the gerbil gave up all pretense of bravery and attempted to scurry away, just as I was blocking off all escape routes. The situation became more intense, and more desparate, as I tightened the dragnet. Intuitively knowing that its very freedom was at stake, gerbilus domesticus used every ounce of strength, every bit of cunning, and all of its immense dexterity in attempting to escape. In the end though, all of his clever gambits proved futile, and I recaptured the illusive gerbil. I completely cornered him, and in a moment of inattention, I caught him unaware, grasped him up, and returned him to captivity, none the worse for wear.
The women cheered and showered me with gratitude and affection. After the fervor had died down, I instructed my she-squire to return my weapons to the armory, shed my armor, and washed away the perspiration of the day's tribulation. Then I went to work.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Running List of "Word Verification" Words
Word Verification words aren't really words, per se. They're random characters strung together by blogger's word verification feature, and assigned a meaning by the person who submitted the "word." That being said, here's a complete list of Word Verification words, in alphabetical order, formatted as follows:
-Word: (pro-NUN-see-A-shun) [part of speech] Definition. (Submitted by)
-Word: (pro-NUN-see-A-shun) [part of speech] Definition. (Submitted by)
-Aajshsi: (aah-GEESH-ee) [n] An Oriental variation of "achoo." (RayRay)
-Aqvra: (OCK-ver-uh) [n] An underwater opera. (Me)
-Blsyi: (BLES-yee) [phrase] The natural response to Aajshsi. (RayRay)
-Boaeismg:(BOA-ism) [n] The study of snake habits. (RayRay)
-Bystrdo: (Bih-STAR-do) [n] A spanish or Old English bastard. (Paulius)
-Dalpkj (DOLL-Pak-aj) [n] The clothing that women wear to nightclubs. "If I'm gonna go out dancing tonight, then I'm going to wear my dalpkj. (Me)
-Damni: (DAM-nee) [n] An obvious variation of "damn". (Chief Slacker) {Late Submission}
-Dngrxx: (DANE-jur-ex-ex) [interjection] Triple the danger. (Me)
-DQXier: (DEE-QUEUE-SEE-er) [n] 1)A dossier on Dairy Quen. 2) {DEE-QUEUE-Zeer} [n] Undergarments issued to female Dairy Queen employees as part of their standard uniform.
-Dremu: (DREE-mew) [n] 1) An Emu's Fantasy Girl. (Chief Slacker) 2) A euphamism for a really sexy woman with the body of a model. (Me)
-Emuobn (E-myu-Obb-in) [verb] - 1) Pseudo-Strutting, not quite pulling it off, and looking awkward, like a bird. "Check out the geek in the leisure suit, emuobn down the street!" 2) Sticking your head in the sand, in an attempt to maintain ignorant bliss. "He should have known he was going to het laid off, but he didn't see it coming because he was emuobn." (Me)
-Enefitr: (ENN-uh-Fit-ur) [n] The person who makes sure the enema tube isn't too big. (Me) {Late Submission}
-Equteg: (E-kwi-teg) [n] The price tag that tells you how much that fancy new horse will cost.
-Everozp (EHV-er-Ozz-up) [phrase] Fall asleep during a meeting. "Next time you everozp, you're fired!" (Me)
-Evldnzn: (E-vil-Dan-zin) [n] Evil-dancing. Dancing so bad, it's actually evil. (Paulius)
-Fafkmno: (Faf-cam-EE-no) [n] A very nice El Camino. (RayRay)
-Fjdaq: (FUJ-dak) [ n] A fudge daiquiri. (RayRay)
-Fuckwagy (FUCK-wag-ee) [adj] - Fuckworthy... generally a compliment (Submitted by Paulius, defined by Me)
-Fwufx (FWUH-fix) [adj] Fluffy, like a stuffed animal. (Me)
-Gffuhz (g-FUZZ) [verb] - Alternate spelling for guffaw (Me)
-Gpeivrbs: (GIP-Pee-verbs) [n] Verbs that have gone slightly wrong. (Paulius)
-Ianvew: (EYE-uhn-view) [n] A worm's eye view. The exact opposite of a bird's eye view. (Me)
-Iuhnanu (EYE-uh-Na-noo) [n] An avid follower of the teachings of Mork from Ork. (Chief Slacker)
-J-Mode: (JAY-mode) [n] Contraction for Java Mode, which is the state of being that occurs from drinking too much coffee. (Me)
-Jssllupyo (Jez-ll-UP-yo) [phrase] 1) Street slang for "Just elope, you two." 2) The advice a drunk gives young lovers. (RayRay)
-Kltbonho: (kilt-BO-no) [n] A kilt worn by U2's Bono. (RayRay)
-Kuwrty (QW-ur-tee) [adj] Quirky and Pretty (Sunny)
-Maxazps: (MAX-a-zaps) [n] Highest setting on a ray-gun. (Paulius)
-Nawpi: (NAW-pee) [n] A naughy little cutie-pie. "Check out that nawpi on the dance floor." (Me) {Late Submission}
-Nyhltosv (NIL-tos-uv) A Russian-Jewish toast (RayRay)
-Nzaggzd: (NIZZ-agg-zed) [v] The past tense of "nagged," a la Snoop Dogg. "That bitch nzaggzd me to death." (Me) {Late Submission}
-Obaead (o-BAYD) [verb] - Past tense of "obey" Think Bill Cosby. (Me)
-Oeagojel (oya-GO-jel) [n] Any brand of styling jel, similar to Jerry Curl. (Me)
-Ozukma: (oh-ZUKE-muh) [n] A high-pressure water cannon used for riot control. (Me)
-Penkgx : (PEN-kix) [n] Enjoyment gleaned from writing. (Paulius)
-Piiuel: (PEYE-ool) [n] The thin film that forms on the outside of leftover pie. (Me)
-Podrmy (poo-DAR-mee) [noun] - fear of the armed forces (Paulius)
-Ptygoo (PIH-tee-goo) [n] Extra thick tears, usually occurring when someone is extremely upset. "He was so upset, his face was streaming with ptygoo." (Paulius)
-Puapp: (POO-app) [n] Toilet paper. (Me)
-Qozxra: (koz-EX-ra) [n] The premium paid for optional features in a luxury vehicle. "The base model was $20,000. But after all of the qozxras, I ended up spending almost $30,000." (Me)
-Ruqiwbu: (RUKE-ee-wub) [n] - The sensation of getting hit in a swonicle with a taser. (Paulius) {Late Submission}
-Soairsa (so-AIR-za) [phrase] - Contraction for "So there's a..." (Sunny)
-Thvkn: (THEEV-kin) [n] A wee little thief. (RayRay)
-TPRubPrr: (TEE-PEE-Rub-prr) [n] The cooing sound one makes after using a particularly soft brand of toilet paper. (Kato)
-Uftwnt (OOFT-woont) 1) [n] An Object often yearned for. 2) [v] To be frequently in need. (Chief Slacker)
-Uvklrey: (UV-Kil-ray) [adj] The exact opposite of Fuckwagy. Someone so ugly that you'd rather turn the klrey (kill ray, which is, ironically enough, the "maxazaps" setting on most commercially available ray guns) on yourself, rather than be seen with this individual. "Man, too bad that fuckwagy chick has such an uvklrey friend, otherwise we'd both be hooked up." (Me)
-Vgeim: (Vej-jee-I-emm) [n] A really boring IM conversation. An IM conversation so boring that you feel like you're chatting with a vegetable. (Me) {Late Submission}
-VixDry: (VIX-dreye) [n] Anti-perspirant for a malicious or quarrelsome woman. (Me) {Late Submission}
-Vyrioclr: (VEYE-Ree-oh-klor) a) [n] A chemical compound similar to chloroform, used by evil geniuses (such as Kato), to render victims helpless and return said victim to the evil genius' lair. b) [v] The use of the aforementioned chemical compound. (Me)
-Wasuoof: (was-OOF) [interjection] The sound you make when getting hit in the crotch with a basketball. (Paulius)
-Wemns: (WEE-mens): [plural possessive] An alternate spelling and pronunciation of "women's". (Me) {Late Submission}
-Wudggla: (Would-GIG-gul-uh): [v] Would giggle. "It was so funny that I wudggla." (Misfit) {Late Submission}
-WVHog: (DUB-ya-VEE-Hog) [n] A large woman from
-XPGPL: An open source implementation of Microsoft Windows (Kato)
-Xxalkk (ZAHL-lkk) [noun] The sound made when attempting to tell someone that you are choking on salt. (RayRay)
-Yakqd (YAKd) [v] Vomited. (Me)
-Ycyooh: (I See Yooooou) [phrase] Greeting used by the Christmahannukwanzakah ads. (Paulius) {Late Submission}
-Ykant: (Yuh-Kant) [phrase] Contraction for "You can't." (Me) {Late Submission}-Zbugi (z-BOO-gee) [phrase] Let's boogie. (Me-Zmoau (Z-mou) [adv] - Somehow (Me)
-Zpwud: (ZIP-wud) [n] A derogatory term, which originated as a combination of zipperhead and fuckwad. "That guy's a real zpwud." (Me)
-Zyzax: (ZEYE-zax) [n] A generic term for any powerful housecleaning chemical (scouring powder, tile cleaner, etc). "Honey, while you're at the store, don't forget to get some more zyzax for the toilet." (Me)
-Zzseiyrn: (ZEERN) [n] The sound a race car makes when it flies past you at 200mph. (Paulius)
Monday, October 10, 2005
A Great Weekend, and a Great Monday
A few days back, I mentioned that my wife and I were scheduled to have five days straight with just the two of us. I'm happy to report that that's exactly what we got, and we took full advantage of it. We cooked meals that the kids wouldn't like, we went to bed early (or late, depending on our mood), we slept in, we laid on the couch and read books together, we had an entire day that we devoted to just being together... it was great! By the end of last night we were charged up and ready to get back in to the swing of things with the kids.
This should explain why I'm having a good Monday, but it gets even better. I got one of my remote mail issues solved (accessing email via Outlook Web Access), so I'm one step closer to implementing Exchange 2003 in the entire division. But a call from my older daughter is what really made my day...
It was just about noon, and I was ready to head home for lunch, when I got a call from my house.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah."
"Are you coming home for lunch?"
"Yeah, I'm heading home now. I should be there in a few minutes."
"Okay, because I just wanted to see you."
Of course, being a dad, I melted. My kids have me sooooooo wrapped around their finger.
Yep, it was a great weekend, and it's been a great Monday. How often do you hear "great Monday?"
P.S. Can you tell that I'm feeling a little prolific in my writing today? Just remember... quantity doesn't always correlate with quality.
This should explain why I'm having a good Monday, but it gets even better. I got one of my remote mail issues solved (accessing email via Outlook Web Access), so I'm one step closer to implementing Exchange 2003 in the entire division. But a call from my older daughter is what really made my day...
It was just about noon, and I was ready to head home for lunch, when I got a call from my house.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah."
"Are you coming home for lunch?"
"Yeah, I'm heading home now. I should be there in a few minutes."
"Okay, because I just wanted to see you."
Of course, being a dad, I melted. My kids have me sooooooo wrapped around their finger.
Yep, it was a great weekend, and it's been a great Monday. How often do you hear "great Monday?"
P.S. Can you tell that I'm feeling a little prolific in my writing today? Just remember... quantity doesn't always correlate with quality.
Let's Take This to the Next Level
I'm having fun with this word verification thing, and so far, it looks like others are too. Let's take this thing to the next level. I'd like everyone who reads this blog to ask everyone who reads your blog to drop in, give me a comment, and let me know what the word verification word is. If I get 100 usable word verification entries, I'll write an entire story based on, and using all 100 words. I will also post the words dictionary style, so everyone knows what means what.
A couple of rules:
A couple of rules:
- If you submit a word, you may choose to provide a definition yourself, or let me choose it. If you choose it, I won't change it, but if it's horribly vulgar, I reserve the right to not count the word. (That's pretty unlikely though, since the first word was fuckwagy.)
- If it's completely unusable (for example, all vowels), I reserve the right to not count the submission.
A Joke in the Making
If you don't get this, refer to my last entry...
Soairsa podrmy guy and his fuckwagy wife...
Zmoau we're going to turn this into a full-fledged joke. Who's with me?
Soairsa podrmy guy and his fuckwagy wife...
Zmoau we're going to turn this into a full-fledged joke. Who's with me?
Sunday, October 9, 2005
Word Verification
In a comment yesterday, someone mentioned that my word verification called him 'fuckwagy.' I've got to tell you, I've run across a few word verification words that have made me laugh too. Maybe we should start posting our word verification words at the end of our replies. After we get a few good ones, we could decide on a meaning for the words, and string them together in some sort of nonsensical fashion. Heck, we could start a language revolution, based on word verification. What do you think?
I'll start out by giving this word a definition.
Fuckwagy: (FUCK-wagg-ee) adj.-Fuckworthy; worthy of being fucked. Generally a compliment.
-For example, you see a hot chick in a bar... instead of saying "I'd fuck her." You could say "She's fuckwagy."
Waddaya think?
I'll start out by giving this word a definition.
Fuckwagy: (FUCK-wagg-ee) adj.-Fuckworthy; worthy of being fucked. Generally a compliment.
-For example, you see a hot chick in a bar... instead of saying "I'd fuck her." You could say "She's fuckwagy."
Waddaya think?
Friday, October 7, 2005
IAEA, Agency Chief Win Nobel Peace Prize
The following is an excerpt from a news article originally published by the Associated Press
VIENNA, Austria - Mohamed ElBaradei and his International Atomic Energy agency won the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize on Friday, leaving the chief U.N. nuclear inspector strengthened in a job he nearly lost because of a dispute with the United States over Iran and Iraq.
ElBaradei suggested winning the world's most prestigious award vindicated his methods and goals — using diplomacy rather than confrontation and defusing tensions in multilateral negotiations that strive for consensus.
As people read this and applaud ElBaradei for his award, I'd like to humbly remind the world that Yassir Arafat also won the Nobel Prize.
VIENNA, Austria - Mohamed ElBaradei and his International Atomic Energy agency won the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize on Friday, leaving the chief U.N. nuclear inspector strengthened in a job he nearly lost because of a dispute with the United States over Iran and Iraq.
ElBaradei suggested winning the world's most prestigious award vindicated his methods and goals — using diplomacy rather than confrontation and defusing tensions in multilateral negotiations that strive for consensus.
As people read this and applaud ElBaradei for his award, I'd like to humbly remind the world that Yassir Arafat also won the Nobel Prize.
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
Hee-HAW
Sometimes I'm a real Jackass. In yesterday's post, I talked about my wife stressing out because I swapped custody days with the ex, and assumed that her stress was all because of me (HEE-HAW!).
It turned out that what I talked about in yesterday's post was a contributing factor to her stress, but that wasn't the main issue. She was just stressed in general and need a night of silence, solitude and reading. As you can imagine, when she read my blog, her stress wasn't reduced at all (HEE-HAW!).
In other words, yesterday, when I said "Then again, she may have honestly been tired today and I may have been reading too much in to the conversation," it turned out that she was honestly tired, and I was reading too much in to the conversation. (HEE-HAW!)
Sweetie, I'm sorry that I contributed to your stress yesterday, and I hope that today's a better day.
It turned out that what I talked about in yesterday's post was a contributing factor to her stress, but that wasn't the main issue. She was just stressed in general and need a night of silence, solitude and reading. As you can imagine, when she read my blog, her stress wasn't reduced at all (HEE-HAW!).
In other words, yesterday, when I said "Then again, she may have honestly been tired today and I may have been reading too much in to the conversation," it turned out that she was honestly tired, and I was reading too much in to the conversation. (HEE-HAW!)
Sweetie, I'm sorry that I contributed to your stress yesterday, and I hope that today's a better day.
Tuesday, October 4, 2005
Whack-A-Mole
I know life's not a contest, but sometimes I feel like I just can't win. Sometimes I can't get ahead at work, sometimes I'm struggling just to tread water at home. It's like some giant cosmic force is playing whack-a-mole with my psyche. When my head pops up at work, a kid gets sick (WHACK!). When a kid brings home a good report card, I suddenly have an unexpected home repair (WHACK!). Once in a great while, the aforementioned cosmic force has an attention lapse in our unending game, and I can make progress in a few areas of life simultaneously. But before long, he starts paying attention, and all of my progress is beat back into place (WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!).
Where did all of this come from?? Well, it's got to do with my wife, my kids and my ex. Under normal circumstances, I have the kids half time. I get them every Monday, every Wednesday, and every other Friday through Sunday. Due to a huge combination of forces though, I've had them every weekend since the end of August (WHACK!). Like any parent, I love my kids. And because I love my kids, I'm going to take them when I'm asked, even if that means I run myself ragged in the process... even if it means I have to wait a little longer until my wife and I can have a quiet evening together. About the only thing that stops me from taking the kids when it's not my night is if the Mrs. and I already have plans.
Tonight was supposed to be a no-kids night. I usually have Tuesday evenings to myself. The kids are with their mom and my wife works until 8:00. I usually spend the evening racing in a NASCAR Simulated Racing League. Today the ex called and asked if I could take the kids tonight, and in return she'd take them tomorrow (WHACK!). I thought about it for a bit...
Since the Sim Racing League is between seasons now, I don't have a race tonight. My better half works late tonight, so I figured that agreeing to take the kids wouldn't be an issue with her. I agreed to the ex's request, and I gave my wife a courtesy call to let her know what's what; that way she wouldn't be surprised when she got home from work and the kids are there. When I thought about the ex's request, the first thing I thought about was spending today with the kids, despite the fact that my wife and I long ago pushed ourselves far past the point of needing a break. The fact that we need a break is the next thing that crossed my mind. I thought "Hmmmm... if I swap, then we have the kids tonight, but we'll have Wednesday through Monday to kick back and recharge our batteries. That was part of why I agreed to watch the kids.
When I called my sweetheart and told her what I'd agreed to, she didn't sound happy (WHACK!). I asked her if something was wrong and she said that she was tired. I know she was being a trooper and not making things worse for us both by having an argument, but I'm pretty sure I know what she was thinking, and quite honestly, I kind of feel like crap. I made a decision without consulting her, thinking it was best for both of us in the long run. (By long run, I mean the next few days.)
I know the crux of the problem. My bride feels that I'm letting my ex take advantage of me (WHACK!). And to an extent, she's right (WHACK, WHACK!). The ex asks this of us pretty frequently (every other week or so), and it does infringe on my alone time with my better half. I understand how my wife feels neglected. Her perception is that when my ex asks me to watch the kids, I jump, and what precious little time my spouse and I have together often suffers. We have this talk quite a bit.
I know she sees this as just another example of a larger pattern... a pattern that I seem unwilling -- or unable -- to change. I know that the love of my life sometimes feels like she's playing second fiddle to my ex and my kids. And to some extent, I'll concede that she's got a point (WHACK!). But I think of my kids...
I think of my kids, and realize that if they spent the night at their mom's house, she'd be frustrated, pissed, depressed or whatever, and the kids would suffer. Don't get me wrong, it's not like their mom would abuse them. But when she gets cranky, she tends to yell and/or withdraw, so the kids would suffer (WHACK!). I figure it's better for the kids to be with me in that case.
I think of my kids, and appreciate the fact that they're not going to be daddy's little girls forever. Since they're not going to be around forever, I want to take advantage of the time I've got while it's available. Once they've grown up and moved from the house, I want to be able to honestly say that I gave them as much as I could offer, even if it means sacrifice in the short term.
I think of my kids and realize that I want to do everything in my power to instill in them the knowledge that I'm always there for them. I want them to know that they can always come to me... and by extension, I want them to feel the same way about my wife.
It's because of these thoughts and feelings that I agree to take my kids when it's supposed to be their mom's night. It's because of these thoughts and feelings that I appear to take it in stride when they show up at my house unexpectedly, wanting to play with me, despite the fact that it's their mom's day, and despite the fact that my wife and I are exhausted and need time to recharge our batteries (WHACK!).
And this is why I feel so uneasy when I feel caught between doing what's right for my kids, and doing what's right for my wife and me. I know that I consistently take the kids. I know that it consistently looks like I'm being inconsiderate of the needs of my bride (WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!).
And today, I figured I was doing a trade-off. I figured I'd take the kids on a night when she had to work late anyway, and that we'd have the next five days to ourselves. I had hoped that I could explain it to her from this perspective... I had hoped that she'd see this as a good thing. But I don't think that's the case (WHACK!). I think she took this as yet another instance of me caving to the ex's request to watch the kids, but didn't want to re-hash stuff we've talked about time and again (WHACK!). Based on how often I agree to this though, I see and understand her point. The thing is, I really don't know what to do. I want the extra time with the kids, because I know it won't last forever. But I don't want my wife feeling like she's taking a back seat, because that's not how I feel(WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!).
I should also clarify a couple of things... the wife works late on Wednesdays too, so we're trading tonight's half evening of freedom for tomorrow's half evening of freedom. The difference is that by doing the trade, our five evenings will be continuous.
And I should also say that my wife loves our kids. In fact, I'm intentionally saying "our kids" because she loves them and treats them as if they were hers biologically. So as I say this, I hope you don't get the impression that she's not attached to the kids or that she's being selfish. As I am freely admitting now, she would freely admit that she's got conflicting emotions when it comes to spending time with our kids.
Then again, she may have honestly been tired today and I may have been reading too much in to the conversation.
Whack-a-mole.
Where did all of this come from?? Well, it's got to do with my wife, my kids and my ex. Under normal circumstances, I have the kids half time. I get them every Monday, every Wednesday, and every other Friday through Sunday. Due to a huge combination of forces though, I've had them every weekend since the end of August (WHACK!). Like any parent, I love my kids. And because I love my kids, I'm going to take them when I'm asked, even if that means I run myself ragged in the process... even if it means I have to wait a little longer until my wife and I can have a quiet evening together. About the only thing that stops me from taking the kids when it's not my night is if the Mrs. and I already have plans.
Tonight was supposed to be a no-kids night. I usually have Tuesday evenings to myself. The kids are with their mom and my wife works until 8:00. I usually spend the evening racing in a NASCAR Simulated Racing League. Today the ex called and asked if I could take the kids tonight, and in return she'd take them tomorrow (WHACK!). I thought about it for a bit...
Since the Sim Racing League is between seasons now, I don't have a race tonight. My better half works late tonight, so I figured that agreeing to take the kids wouldn't be an issue with her. I agreed to the ex's request, and I gave my wife a courtesy call to let her know what's what; that way she wouldn't be surprised when she got home from work and the kids are there. When I thought about the ex's request, the first thing I thought about was spending today with the kids, despite the fact that my wife and I long ago pushed ourselves far past the point of needing a break. The fact that we need a break is the next thing that crossed my mind. I thought "Hmmmm... if I swap, then we have the kids tonight, but we'll have Wednesday through Monday to kick back and recharge our batteries. That was part of why I agreed to watch the kids.
When I called my sweetheart and told her what I'd agreed to, she didn't sound happy (WHACK!). I asked her if something was wrong and she said that she was tired. I know she was being a trooper and not making things worse for us both by having an argument, but I'm pretty sure I know what she was thinking, and quite honestly, I kind of feel like crap. I made a decision without consulting her, thinking it was best for both of us in the long run. (By long run, I mean the next few days.)
I know the crux of the problem. My bride feels that I'm letting my ex take advantage of me (WHACK!). And to an extent, she's right (WHACK, WHACK!). The ex asks this of us pretty frequently (every other week or so), and it does infringe on my alone time with my better half. I understand how my wife feels neglected. Her perception is that when my ex asks me to watch the kids, I jump, and what precious little time my spouse and I have together often suffers. We have this talk quite a bit.
I know she sees this as just another example of a larger pattern... a pattern that I seem unwilling -- or unable -- to change. I know that the love of my life sometimes feels like she's playing second fiddle to my ex and my kids. And to some extent, I'll concede that she's got a point (WHACK!). But I think of my kids...
I think of my kids, and realize that if they spent the night at their mom's house, she'd be frustrated, pissed, depressed or whatever, and the kids would suffer. Don't get me wrong, it's not like their mom would abuse them. But when she gets cranky, she tends to yell and/or withdraw, so the kids would suffer (WHACK!). I figure it's better for the kids to be with me in that case.
I think of my kids, and appreciate the fact that they're not going to be daddy's little girls forever. Since they're not going to be around forever, I want to take advantage of the time I've got while it's available. Once they've grown up and moved from the house, I want to be able to honestly say that I gave them as much as I could offer, even if it means sacrifice in the short term.
I think of my kids and realize that I want to do everything in my power to instill in them the knowledge that I'm always there for them. I want them to know that they can always come to me... and by extension, I want them to feel the same way about my wife.
It's because of these thoughts and feelings that I agree to take my kids when it's supposed to be their mom's night. It's because of these thoughts and feelings that I appear to take it in stride when they show up at my house unexpectedly, wanting to play with me, despite the fact that it's their mom's day, and despite the fact that my wife and I are exhausted and need time to recharge our batteries (WHACK!).
And this is why I feel so uneasy when I feel caught between doing what's right for my kids, and doing what's right for my wife and me. I know that I consistently take the kids. I know that it consistently looks like I'm being inconsiderate of the needs of my bride (WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!).
And today, I figured I was doing a trade-off. I figured I'd take the kids on a night when she had to work late anyway, and that we'd have the next five days to ourselves. I had hoped that I could explain it to her from this perspective... I had hoped that she'd see this as a good thing. But I don't think that's the case (WHACK!). I think she took this as yet another instance of me caving to the ex's request to watch the kids, but didn't want to re-hash stuff we've talked about time and again (WHACK!). Based on how often I agree to this though, I see and understand her point. The thing is, I really don't know what to do. I want the extra time with the kids, because I know it won't last forever. But I don't want my wife feeling like she's taking a back seat, because that's not how I feel(WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!).
I should also clarify a couple of things... the wife works late on Wednesdays too, so we're trading tonight's half evening of freedom for tomorrow's half evening of freedom. The difference is that by doing the trade, our five evenings will be continuous.
And I should also say that my wife loves our kids. In fact, I'm intentionally saying "our kids" because she loves them and treats them as if they were hers biologically. So as I say this, I hope you don't get the impression that she's not attached to the kids or that she's being selfish. As I am freely admitting now, she would freely admit that she's got conflicting emotions when it comes to spending time with our kids.
Then again, she may have honestly been tired today and I may have been reading too much in to the conversation.
Whack-a-mole.
Saturday, October 1, 2005
The WAN is Falling
Though things are going really well on my new network, my old network is showing some signs of age (and neglect). One of my cohorts in Cincinnati called Thursday afternoon because none of the folks on his network could get to email -- which resides on my network. It turned out he caught a virus that killed all of his administrative shares and changed a crucial setting in the registry. All was good until yesterday morning when the virus came back. We worked with Microsoft for a few hours and voila, problem fixed.
Then at the end of the day yesterday, one of my cohorts in the other office here in town called me because DNS died in his building. Once again, we worked it out in short order. Then late last night, one of my night operators called me because she couldn't print. (I was a little put out over the fact that she called me on a Friday night because she couldn't print, but that's another story.) I ended up having to reboot my print server. Again, nothing major, but when you add it all up -- especially after my traumatic rebuild -- it's a little stressful.
The part that's amusing about the whole thing is that I was the hub of all of this activity. My compadres are both competent techs, and could have handled this by themselves. I guess they called me for moral support. It's kind of cool being the de-facto lead tech; if only I could get my management to make it happen for real.
Then at the end of the day yesterday, one of my cohorts in the other office here in town called me because DNS died in his building. Once again, we worked it out in short order. Then late last night, one of my night operators called me because she couldn't print. (I was a little put out over the fact that she called me on a Friday night because she couldn't print, but that's another story.) I ended up having to reboot my print server. Again, nothing major, but when you add it all up -- especially after my traumatic rebuild -- it's a little stressful.
The part that's amusing about the whole thing is that I was the hub of all of this activity. My compadres are both competent techs, and could have handled this by themselves. I guess they called me for moral support. It's kind of cool being the de-facto lead tech; if only I could get my management to make it happen for real.
The WAN is Falling
Though things are going really well on my new network, my old network is showing some signs of age (and neglect). One of my cohorts in Cincinnati called Thursday afternoon because none of the folks on his network could get to email -- which resides on my network. It turned out he caught a virus that killed all of his administrative shares and changed a crucial setting in the registry. All was good until yesterday morning when the virus came back. We worked with Microsoft for a few hours and voila, problem fixed.
Then at the end of the day yesterday, one of my cohorts in the other office here in town called me because DNS died in his building. Once again, we worked it out in short order. Then late last night, one of my night operators called me because she couldn't print. (I was a little put out over the fact that she called me on a Friday night because she couldn't print, but that's another story.) I ended up having to reboot my print server. Again, nothing major, but when you add it all up -- especially after my traumatic rebuild -- it's a little stressful.
The part that's amusing about the whole thing is that I was the hub of all of this activity. My compadres are both competent techs, and could have handled this by themselves. I guess they called me for moral support. It's kind of cool being the de-facto lead tech; if only I could get my management to make it happen for real.
Then at the end of the day yesterday, one of my cohorts in the other office here in town called me because DNS died in his building. Once again, we worked it out in short order. Then late last night, one of my night operators called me because she couldn't print. (I was a little put out over the fact that she called me on a Friday night because she couldn't print, but that's another story.) I ended up having to reboot my print server. Again, nothing major, but when you add it all up -- especially after my traumatic rebuild -- it's a little stressful.
The part that's amusing about the whole thing is that I was the hub of all of this activity. My compadres are both competent techs, and could have handled this by themselves. I guess they called me for moral support. It's kind of cool being the de-facto lead tech; if only I could get my management to make it happen for real.
There's a Teenager in my House
My older daughter turned 13 this morning. Life as I knew it is over. I'm too young to have a teenage kid -- much less a girl at that age. I still remember what I was like as a teenage boy. Aren't I supposed to be a little older, wiser and... well, more of a parent before I'm subjected to all of this teen angst? This must be God's (and my parents', and all of the parents of all of those little girls I chased when I was a little boy) way of getting revenge on me.
Okay, okay, okay... I'm not really freaking out -- yet. I just had to play the part of stressed-out dad. But I know it's coming!
Okay, okay, okay... I'm not really freaking out -- yet. I just had to play the part of stressed-out dad. But I know it's coming!
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