I can't say it any better. My Dad, bless his heart, just woke up at a quarter past midnight in order to be the first person to wish me a happy birthday. He's old, he needs his sleep--I wish he didn't feel like he had to do that, but he does. He also repeatedly offered to make me breakfast tomorrow morning ("Whatever you like, Pinkcup! Cinnamon rolls? Omlette? Chocolate chip pancakes?") despite me insisting that he not do anything of the sort....especially since this would make him late for work. My Mom called from a Bedouin camp in Israel and sang me happy birthday in what I think was garbled Yiddish. My grandma sent me an obscene amount of money yesterday. I suspect that my other grandparents did as well. My best friend is being all secretive about our plans tomorrow night, and I know this means something elaborate is planned. I know this is technically a Rave, since this means that people obviously love me lots and want to make my birthday special. I know, I know. Believe me, I know I sound like a grumpy asshole. This is why I don't voice this anywhere but here, where I know that other people feel as curmudgeonly as I do about birthdays. But still. I feel like crawling under the covers and not coming out until tomorrow.
Rave: This road trip is fucking sweet, Vegas was absurd, Arizona was gorgeous, New Mexico doesn't count, and now I'm at a hotel in the middle of nowhere, TX that had a bar that served me and promised free breakfast. In the morning we're heading on to Austin for a few days, followed by NEW ORLEANS! I'm so excited. Rant: Texas is way too fucking big.
Rant: Our asshole neighbours reminded us Sunday night as to why we are moving by keeping us awake till 2 am with rap music. Why do white Canadian kids who have probably met a dozen black guys in their lives listen to gansta rap? Bylaw enforcement further reinforced our decision to move by doing absolutely fucking nothing despite us calling repeatedly starting at 11. This is why you hear news stories about "man goes berserk and kills neighbour" because as a society we fail to nip situations in the bud. Instead police and bylaw let things build and build until decent, hardworking people snap and shotgun the neighbour's kid for walking across their lawn. Rant: The "nice young man" and his father that were to buy the Z backed out of the deal. We shook hands on Thursday night that they would take the car and give us a deposit by Monday. I held the car for the kid based on the belief that looking someone in the eye and shaking their hand on a deal is still worth something in today's world. Apparently it is not. I told the kid over the phone on Monday that going forward in his life and career, he may consider putting more weight on keeping his word. Z is now back up for sale. Rant: The other two buyers that were so insistent that I call them back if the deal fell thru both no-showed on the same day after making appointments with me. Aside from the disappointment of not selling the car, its becoming apparent that many young men nowadays are lacking in character and ethics. Whether or not they would of bought the car, I don't know, but in my mind if you ask someone to set aside part of their day to meet you, you show up or at least call to let them know you can't make it. We've got to be out of the house by Monday, June 28th. I've got more pressing things to do than sit around waiting for people to no-show. Rave: Sold the STi tonight after listing it one day to a serious buyer that left me $1000 cash deposit. Rave: House is essentially packed up. Tomorrow we start moving items into storage. By next weekend the house should be sitting empty and our year at the cottage will start. Rave: Under the heading of "naked consumerism", I picked up a pair of Sharp 60" Aquos Quattrons for the cottage. One goes into my man cave/mini home theater, the other is for watching TV.
Rave: I was asked to come back in today to meet the general manager and do a test for a job. Interview went well and I did well enough in the IQ test that I got offered the job on the spot. It seems like a cool place to work. Went to a bar with my new boss to finalize the deal. Rave: I don't have to worry about looking for a job anymore. I am stoked that I can walk into a job after I hand in my dissertation.
RAVE: My wife is eight weeks pregnant today. I'm so happy, but I'm nervous to be happy because I do not want to jinx anything. It's been a long time coming and I think this go round will be good. RANT: nothing.
Rant: Looks like I've gotta post more topless pics of the girlfriend to get more green dots so I can feel good about myself again. Kidding!!
Rant: I am so damned tired, I haven't gotten more than 3-4 hours of sleep for the past three nights. Rave: Because I've been staying up till 2-3am with the new girl. Things are going pretty well it seems. We haven't gone too far yet because she doesn't want to rush into things, but from some of the stuff we've talked about...this is gonna be worth the wait. Rave: Two weeks from today my friend and I will be flying to Atlanta to see 2 nights of Phish for the 4th. Can't. Fucking. Wait.
Rant: This week I started my new job, it's not exactly a new job, it's the first job I've ever had and it's only a summer job. After four days of work I'm realizing that maybe I'm not good for work. So you guys do this everyday? How do you live with yourself? Rave: Watching the game! Never realized French people were black. Edit: Rant: My hundred or so rep points are gone!
Rant: Yesterday was the dress rehearsal for the little girl I nanny's ballet recital. I was in charge of videotaping it. We're not allowed to videotape the actual performance so dress rehearsal is our one chance to tape it. I get the camera setup and start recording her dance. I look at the side screen and think "Oh, this is really dark, I can't see the dance on here at all!" About halfway through the routine, I realize I left the fucking cap on the lens.
Rave: Just got into the Mason School of Business MBA program at the College of William & Mary. Hollllllerrrrr. Working full time and schooling it at night is going to suck.
Rant: Fucking computer broke. It's not even a year old. I'm so goddamn fucking sick of this shit I could scream.
Rant: Nothing ruins a good morning of fishing on a pier on the bay like a crazy homeless man wandering by and seeing an oily sheen on the water and respond by screaming: "They lied, the oil spill is already here! We are doomed! The world is over! Enjoy your fish, they will all be dead soon!" He then returned with a fishing rod and started casting it out and retrieving it as fast as he could. I guess he wanted to get some fish.
Rant: Grass/sand burrs. This shit is getting ridiculous. My golden retriever is like a fucking shamwow for these things.
Rave: Getting used to the cockpit. Rave: That means better grades. Rant: Still a ton of work to do. RANT: Probably will have to go in on Saturday to do the hardest cockpit exam instead of doing it on Monday...no weekend to catch up for me. Rave: This shit is fucking awesome!!!
Rave: so while Telling some girl that she was retarded for saying Martin Scorsese "peaked" making the departed and reading his filmography I stumbled across this. <a class="postlink" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0993846/" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0993846/</a> I have posted reviews about how awesome this book is on the RMMB and here. I'm stoked that a director who won't fuck it up is making it.
Rant: How can people be so stupid, and still function as human beings? I don't how some people can figure out to feed themselves, or remember to breathe air. Customers do not get it, when i ask for information, i am doing it because i need it to do my job, not because i want to piss you off. When i ask you for model and serial number, the horse power rating does not do anything. This is just one of many conversations that happens on almost a daily basis. Customer: I need an air filter for my 210 Cummins. Me: I need the model and serial number please. Customer: 210 Cummins. Me: No that is the horse power rating, i need the model and serial number, and that cannot guarantee that it will fit.(Depending on the installation, lots of air filters on boats, clamp right on to the turbo, and the engine rooms are always cramped and small, so depending on which boat, and if they changed anything from when it was installed, it might be different.) Customer: No, they are all the same. Me: Actually they are not all the same, depending on the installation, each one can be different. Customer: But it is a 210 Cummins, they are all the same. Me: No they aren't. ... this conversation goes on for about another 4 minutes I walk about stairs and grab a relatively common one Me: Here you go, this is a common filter that fits a Cummins around that horse power rating. Customer: Well this is wrong. Me: I told you nothing is as common as you think, just bring me the old and i will be able to give you the same one. God, sometimes i want to punch customers in the face sometimes.
Rant: My quads HATE me. I did lunges with 100 lbs on Tuesday and I can hardly walk today. Damnit! Rave: Arms today, legs have til next Tuesday to quit bitching.
Rant: I got an IM from a co-worker and I replied "lol" as I was in a hurry. He then had to check that it was actually me he was IMing, as I have never once used LOL as a response since I started using the internet in 8th grade. Fuck.