Rant: It's late, I can't sleep, and I'm sober. Rant/Rave? I'm on TiB? Rave: I got a Nook Tablet. It seems pretty cool so far and I decided on it mostly for the specs. Rant: I'm realizing that this item is more for-profit than the iPad is. Virtually no free apps available here. Dammit B&N you have betrayed my unwarranted trust. I've been reading your crap since I was little, I thought you were cooler than that, bro? Broski? Bro-ska-doodle-dazzle? Come ooooon! Rave: I suppose rooting it is always an option, but then again I did get it mainly as a reader and I suppose the restrictive limitations are beneficial to that purpose.
Rant: T-6 days until the in-law invasion (9 of them). In our continuing and what seems like never ending quest to make ready, I have 4 cu yds of soil and 3 cu yds of mulch being delivered this morning for dispersal in the front flower beds. Good thing it's only supposed to be in the mid 90s. Rave: In a characteristic move on my part, I hired a cleaning service to come in on Wednesday and do a complete spring cleaning of the house as well as a window washer to do all the windows and screens. I say characteristic because I far too lazy to do all that shit myself, in whole or part. Rave: Smoking two chickens using apple wood! Rant? My graduation picture proofs arrived yesterday. My beard is a lot more gray on film than it is in the mirror. Must be the lighting.
Rave Passed my first week of my class for military exercise specialists. I passed just by the skin of my teeth, but fuckin aye I have a hard time with test taking. There's a ton of information and I was nervous as all hell. *Pats self on back* Rant The instructor is attractive, but that doesn't make up for her cold, distant attitude. She's looked at me and others in the class like we were complete morons. Look bitch, I understand your a by the book, no BS Staff Sargeant but could it hurt to just be a little bit more encouraging to your students? Rave 4 day weekend. Went to Whiskey Island for a friend's 30th birthday party yesterday, got to drink lots of beer right off Lake Erie but those fucking mosqitoues came out in full force after we got hit with a quick rain shower.
RAVE: Here we go! Off to hang for the weekend with all my very best friends...it's a Memorial Day tradition! Horse racing, gm, picking (not getting) crabs, midnight pool antics, feasting on leftovers at 3 am, and just ball busting with my boys. I can't wait! RANT: "All my very best friends" includes the whatever and his new girlfriend. I think I'm going with a sign that reads, "keep all sharp objects away." Ugh. I'm happy that he's happy but it's so difficult to be around him with her...I have to check myself constantly and not do things that come so damn naturally (getting him a new beer, resting my hand on his thigh when we're sitting together, whispering the inside jokes in his ear...). All are her job now. At least I'll have fantastic-looking calves from being on my toes all day.
Rave: My good buddy and his wife finally had their baby this morning. She is a healthy baby girl and I'm super pumped for both of them.
Rave: Red Bull Invitational! It was a great tournament last year and I expect it to be even better this year. Rant: I should've manned up and traveled to Austin, made a weekend out of it.
RANT: I was making great gains in the gym until I switched to third shift. I work a swing shift and switch every 27 days, and it blows.
Rave: Fuck I love Brett Lawrie. Not only is he a go-to player who gets shit done (like some people's resumes), but he has the world's best bubble butt. Rawr.
Race: It's been a good week catching up with people I haven't seen in quite a number of years. Rave: After around 3000km my move is nearly finished. Rant: Completely over driving. Still have another 500km or so, more if I decide to spring a surprise visit on the old folks.
Rave: Went to the casino last night. I won forty bucks playing blackjack. Nothing like the two hundred bucks I won last time, but it paid for dinner. Rant: For some reason, people at the casino are fucking retarded. I was sitting next to a mouth-breather betting forty bucks a hand and losing badly. Dealer had a five, I got two sevens. Basic strategy says to split, so I did. Fuckstick immediately went off on me, yelling that "That's the WORST THING YOU CAN DO TO SEVENS. YA NEVER SPLIT SEVENS." He got even madder when I "took" the cards that would have made the dealer bust (and still won). Apparently random cards ending up in my hand instead of the dealer's hand is my fault. Rave: The pit boss told him to shut the fuck up. He then lost six hands in a row and walked out down five hundred bucks. I had a good laugh at his expense.
Rant: I love my wife, but holy fuck how does she not get it yet? When our daughter is awake at night and fussy, it means one thing, and one thing only: she is hungry. You can rock her, change her, bounce her, give her a pacifier, and do everything under the sun, but unless she gets food, she will be awake. My wife will literally spend hours saying "She's fighting sleep." No, she's hungry. Feed her. Or let me feed her. How do you NOT get this yet? She hasn't eaten enough. Once you feed her, she passes right the fuck out, EVERY SINGLE TIME! She fusses and cries until she eats, then she feels better and sleeps. Double Rant: When I try to point this out to her, she gets mad at me. I know it is because she feels insecure about breast feeding and how much she is producing, and if it isn't enough it makes her feel bad, but she still gets so pissed at me. It is like she feels like she is a bad mother because she can't produce enough to feed the baby, when reality is that almost every mother I know had switched to formula by this time, or at the very least supplemented some formula. Rave: Once this kid is done eating, I can go back to sleep.
Rant: I'm still sick. Fortunately after 3 days of agonizing abdominal pain and 5 days of nausea, diarrhea and fever it has started to subside, I'm hoping I'll actually be able to enjoy the last week of my vacation. We're supposed to contact our doctor within 24 hours of utilizing emergency medical services, Tricare is raging because I went to the ER at 2 AM on Friday morning. Too bad it's a 4 day weekend and almost the entire base had Friday off (including my doctor) and they also have Monday off. What the fuck do they want me to do about it? I don't even know why I have to call that doctor anymore seeing as I'm completely signed out of that base. Oh, and even though the ER doc gave me a referral to a specialist that won't work for Tricare. Instead I have to call "my doctor" that is hundreds of miles away who I haven't and won't see ever again to evaluate my condition so he can give me a referral to a doctor when he has no clue about my medical situation. Fucking retarded. Rant: I've been advised to stay away from alcohol for another week so as not to aggravate my condition. Awesome, looks like even once I recover I'm going to be the DD for the rest of the time I'm in the United States. Rant: I've eaten twice over the course of 72 hours. I think my body knows better than to eat because it isn't telling me that I'm hungry, but I have absolutely no energy whatsoever and whenever I put something in my system that isn't liquid I'm immediately greeted with intense pain. Rave: I have tickets to see the 1st place Indians on Saturday.
Rant: 4 cu yds of soil + 3 cu yds of mulch = a lot of shit. I am so stiff and sore, if they sold Ben-Gay in a 55 gallon drum, I'd buy it and dip myself in it. Rave: It's done. Rave: the apple wood smoked chickens were flipping awesome. A 12 hour brining and 7 hours at 225 in the smoker and voila. So simple. Next week: pulled pork made with a Cajun rub and Carolina BBQ sauce. For tonight, grilled lamb chops and grilled sliced Vidalia onions. Yum.
RANT: Out of nowhere today my mother calls me. This is her greeting: "Have you spoken to Daddy?" "No, why?" "Well, Pinkbro thinks he's dying." "...the fuck?!" For those not in the know, my father is diabetic, smokes and is a raging alcoholic. About 10 months ago, his doctor was floating the idea of putting him on insulin because the pills to keep his blood sugar down weren't working. I'm pretty sure if he stopped the drinking it would, but let's be honest. This is a man that's been drinking longer than I've been alive...and many rock bottoms have not stopped it. Apparently he got back from a business trip on Friday and according to my brother, all he's done since then is sleep, drink massive amounts of water and pee. There was also talk of him not being able to breathe and being short of breath. When my mother told my brother to get out his sugar monitor and check the level, no shit, the little bastard said "Yeah, I'll check after I eat lunch." I call my father. No answer. Brother, no answer. Cousins, no answer. Aunt/uncle, no answer. Finally my father calls. He sounds like absolute death. He can barely form words and this isn't the drunk slur I've known most of my life. He sounds completely fucked. I ask what's wrong. He says he can barely breathe, the meds he was given to help the "bronchitis" he has aren't working and he has a pinched nerve in his neck that's bothering him so much he can't function. I asked about his sugar. He says it's fine. My brother is there...and I told him to call my mother (an RN) and have her come over immediately. I call back 20 minutes later. My dad says they're going to "decide" if he goes to the ER after my mom gets there. For whatever reason, this sends me into a panic. We hang up and I start sobbing like a pregnant woman at a chick flick. I call back a third time a minute later, still sobbing. My brother answers, surly that I'm calling again. I ask for Dad. He gets on after my brother screams for him to pick up the phone. I can barely get the words out and say "I don't know what's going to happen" and he stops me and says "I'm not going anywhere, so, don't worry, okay? I'll keep you updated." I don't say it often (especially to my parents) but I told him I loved him and hung up. The relationship I have with my father is extraordinarily complicated. I have bitched multiple times about his treatment of me and how much of an ass he's been. But something about realizing your father is terribly sick and the worst possible outcome...funny how I have forgotten all of the past ill-treatment. I have been crying on and off for the last hour. And seriously? My brother is going to get his ass beat if I have to fly up to NJ in the next few days. We have the same drunk father that's treated us poorly in the past but screaming at a desperately ill man when his sobbing daughter wants to talk to him? He needs a throat kick. RAVE (somewhat): Mom just called. His blood sugar was so high it didn't even register on the meter. He's in the ER, they're pumping him full of insulin. They told my mother if he waited another day he would've been dead. I probably saved his life because I'm sure my good for nothing brother wouldn't have even lifted a finger to call someone and have him checked. I think the little shit and I are going to have a long serious talk in the next day or so.
Rant: Some days, I can't win for losing. Lately, I feel like Mike Dimone, from 'Fast Times at Ridgemont High' - specifically, the scene where he almost gets in the fight in the locker room with Rat. He turns, says 'I don't know what happened. I woke up, I was in a good mood...' Luckily, it's all stupid little shit, but it gets old. Sigh. Whine machine off. Click.
RANT: The charger for my blackberry fell a whole 40 odd centimetres (a foot and a half or so) on to carpet and now a piece of plastic broke off the clip at the back that holds the plug forks (for want of a better word) in place and it won't fucking work anymore. Goddamn plastic pieces of shit. I'm getting a non-genuine one this time - hopefully they are made better. RAVE: Washed some of my mom's work jackets and they came out of the laundry really well. I wasn't sure how they'd do in cold water but they're spotless. Also, made an awesome pasta last night (hint: not al dente). A phenomenal f1 race yesterday, too. Sometimes it's the little things.