Courtesy of them, I came across this photo story that pretty much had me cracking up from the first picture to the last. Seriously now, some of the pictures they put together for this story just really make you wonder. Like the clapping picture...I swear before I even read the caption I said, "Now that's pretty gay looking...."
So enjoy...
Ian Thorpe.
Pieter van den Hoogenband.
A love story.
P.S. At least they didn't take my sexy Alexei Nemov and pair him with that freckle freak Paul Hamm. Now Alexei and maybe that Romanian Marian Dragulescu...that could be fun....
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Quote of the Day (and a question too)
....I was actually seeing a man -- a human being -- jumping from the 101st or 102nd floor. Spontaneously, I grabbed the arm of then Police Commissioner Bernard Kerik and said to Bernie, "Thank God, George Bush is our president." -- Former NYC mayor Rudy Giuliani at last night Republican National Convention on recalling "the flames of hell" on September 11, 2001.
And now the question (which if you can answer I would LOVE to hear it)...how the hell can watching a man jump from a building make you thank God that Dubya is our president? I really need to know this one....
And now the question (which if you can answer I would LOVE to hear it)...how the hell can watching a man jump from a building make you thank God that Dubya is our president? I really need to know this one....
Monday, August 30, 2004
Weekend in Review
Nothing much to report other than I had a date with SkiGuy Saturday night...and I learned two things about him that night as well...
1) His couch isn't really that comfortable and not really conducive to snuggling.
2) He's a good kisser.
That's all I'm saying for now but if there is a #3 on this list it would be as follows:
3) I didn't have a problem reading the signals this time. It was all pretty clear...
And on a side note....since this post I learned that the emu is dead...not sure if she yanked it or Blogger did but she is gone...
1) His couch isn't really that comfortable and not really conducive to snuggling.
2) He's a good kisser.
That's all I'm saying for now but if there is a #3 on this list it would be as follows:
3) I didn't have a problem reading the signals this time. It was all pretty clear...
And on a side note....since this post I learned that the emu is dead...not sure if she yanked it or Blogger did but she is gone...
Quote of the Day
I'm okay with being unimpressive. I sleep better. -- Peter Sarsgaard as Mark in the movie Garden State
Fun With Security During the RNC
We have a security guard in the building where I work that no one likes. Mainly it's because she's a fucking cunt who takes her job way to seriously. If they gave her a gun, I would be scared.
For example, when she first started working, she stopped me and said that I was using someone else's ID badge because, quite frankly the picture didn't look like me. The fact that I had lost about 50 pounds since that picture was taken didn't seem to mean anything to her. I pulled out my driver's license and she decided that of course I wasn't the real me because it had my first name on the driver's license and it was a different name than on my ID. I explained that I used my middle name rather than my first name and that didn't do her any good. Finally, I had to have my boss come down and identify me because she wasn't going to let me go upstairs. As I left, she called after me, "You'd better get a new ID. I may not let you through next time."
I have not changed my ID card since...she still gives me looks and has, on occasion, asked me when I was going to get a new ID card since I still didn't look like my picture. I told her one day I keep the picture on there to remind me of how large I used to be so I would work to never look that way again. Didn't faze her in the slightest. One day she said she was going to take my card from me if I didn't get a new picture on it. Knowing that my company would just print the old picture on file, I said, "Okay," and handed her the card. Sure enough, I got a new card with an old picture and I made sure that she saw that her handywork had failed.
Now, I thought that this was just something between her and me. But I learned that she at some point was having people open their bags for a "random check," making comments about other people's IDs, and holding consultants with official "Visitor" badges pretty much hostage until they could be confirmed that they work in the building. It doesn't matter what door they put her at (there are four entrances to the building), she's a bitch at all of them. Just what you want providing "security" for your building.
Today as I walked into the office, revelling in the fact that I had a pretty easy commute on the first real day of the Republican National Convention (aka the RNC as I will call it), I ran into a coworker (who always comes in at the crack of ass) outside having a cigarette. We chatted for a bit before I started to head in and I heard, "Oh, just so you know, Tina is in rare form today." It was all I could do to keep from turning around and heading home.
I got my badge out of my wallet (with the old picture of course) and flashed it at her hoping that this would be the day that I could pass without having to deal with her.
"Stop."
Great. Fucking great.
"I need you to consume your drink," she said, referencing the practically full bottle of Diet Coke I had in my hand.
"Excuse me."
"Before you can enter, I need you to consume your drink."
I heaved my biggest "You must be fucking kidding me" sigh, opened up the bottle of Diet Coke, took a swig, swallowed, and opened my mouth for her to see that it was empty because I was sure that was going to be her next request.
"No. All of it."
"WHAT?"
"You need to drink all of it."
I know I was totally going bugged eyed on her with another "You must be fucking kidding me" look. She wasn't joking and, quite frankly, she was also holding up the line of people trying to get into the building. This is where my evil mind took over and decided that she needed to be taught a little lesson. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, threw the cap to the ground in mock disgust (okay maybe there was no "mock" in that disgust) and started drinking it as fast as I could.
"Okay?" I said showing her an empty bottle and mouth.
She motioned to let me through and at that point I bent over to pick up my bag (which oddly enough she didn't want to check) and I started gagging and gasping for breath until I was laying on the ground writhing and shaking as hard as I could.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" she started to scream as everyone behind me started tittering because they knew it was an act. Poor Tina went into a panic and had no idea what to do. She finally had her terrorist attack but was woefully unprepared for it. After about fifteen seconds of her freaking out, I sat up and said, "So sorry. False alarm." I picked up my bag and walked to the elevator while everyone behind me was doing their best not to laugh out loud.
I got into the elevator and as they are time delayed during the morning rush I had to wait until they closed before I could burst into my own gales of laughter. Of course, this wasn't to be as one of the women managers on my floor got on a second after me. We had some chit chat until the doors closed and then we just looked at each other and started cracking up.
"I've been waiting for someone to pull something like that on her," she said. "Somehow I just knew it was going to be you."
Well, we'll see what Tina says when I head out for lunch later today.
For example, when she first started working, she stopped me and said that I was using someone else's ID badge because, quite frankly the picture didn't look like me. The fact that I had lost about 50 pounds since that picture was taken didn't seem to mean anything to her. I pulled out my driver's license and she decided that of course I wasn't the real me because it had my first name on the driver's license and it was a different name than on my ID. I explained that I used my middle name rather than my first name and that didn't do her any good. Finally, I had to have my boss come down and identify me because she wasn't going to let me go upstairs. As I left, she called after me, "You'd better get a new ID. I may not let you through next time."
I have not changed my ID card since...she still gives me looks and has, on occasion, asked me when I was going to get a new ID card since I still didn't look like my picture. I told her one day I keep the picture on there to remind me of how large I used to be so I would work to never look that way again. Didn't faze her in the slightest. One day she said she was going to take my card from me if I didn't get a new picture on it. Knowing that my company would just print the old picture on file, I said, "Okay," and handed her the card. Sure enough, I got a new card with an old picture and I made sure that she saw that her handywork had failed.
Now, I thought that this was just something between her and me. But I learned that she at some point was having people open their bags for a "random check," making comments about other people's IDs, and holding consultants with official "Visitor" badges pretty much hostage until they could be confirmed that they work in the building. It doesn't matter what door they put her at (there are four entrances to the building), she's a bitch at all of them. Just what you want providing "security" for your building.
Today as I walked into the office, revelling in the fact that I had a pretty easy commute on the first real day of the Republican National Convention (aka the RNC as I will call it), I ran into a coworker (who always comes in at the crack of ass) outside having a cigarette. We chatted for a bit before I started to head in and I heard, "Oh, just so you know, Tina is in rare form today." It was all I could do to keep from turning around and heading home.
I got my badge out of my wallet (with the old picture of course) and flashed it at her hoping that this would be the day that I could pass without having to deal with her.
"Stop."
Great. Fucking great.
"I need you to consume your drink," she said, referencing the practically full bottle of Diet Coke I had in my hand.
"Excuse me."
"Before you can enter, I need you to consume your drink."
I heaved my biggest "You must be fucking kidding me" sigh, opened up the bottle of Diet Coke, took a swig, swallowed, and opened my mouth for her to see that it was empty because I was sure that was going to be her next request.
"No. All of it."
"WHAT?"
"You need to drink all of it."
I know I was totally going bugged eyed on her with another "You must be fucking kidding me" look. She wasn't joking and, quite frankly, she was also holding up the line of people trying to get into the building. This is where my evil mind took over and decided that she needed to be taught a little lesson. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, threw the cap to the ground in mock disgust (okay maybe there was no "mock" in that disgust) and started drinking it as fast as I could.
"Okay?" I said showing her an empty bottle and mouth.
She motioned to let me through and at that point I bent over to pick up my bag (which oddly enough she didn't want to check) and I started gagging and gasping for breath until I was laying on the ground writhing and shaking as hard as I could.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" she started to scream as everyone behind me started tittering because they knew it was an act. Poor Tina went into a panic and had no idea what to do. She finally had her terrorist attack but was woefully unprepared for it. After about fifteen seconds of her freaking out, I sat up and said, "So sorry. False alarm." I picked up my bag and walked to the elevator while everyone behind me was doing their best not to laugh out loud.
I got into the elevator and as they are time delayed during the morning rush I had to wait until they closed before I could burst into my own gales of laughter. Of course, this wasn't to be as one of the women managers on my floor got on a second after me. We had some chit chat until the doors closed and then we just looked at each other and started cracking up.
"I've been waiting for someone to pull something like that on her," she said. "Somehow I just knew it was going to be you."
Well, we'll see what Tina says when I head out for lunch later today.
Friday, August 27, 2004
Quote of the Day
I don't know of any comparison in any sport anywhere where you crown an athlete, crown a team and then say, 'Oh, that was a mistake. Would you fix this for us?' -- USOC chairman Peter Ueberroth
Thursday, August 26, 2004
A moment to be proud of...
Remember in this post I made the comment about how good I was being in holding off on calling SkiGuy...well I did hold off...until Monday afternoon. Now mind you, the old me would have been calling the very next day but I decided to play it a little cool and aloof and see if absence does make the heart (or any other vital body organs) grow fonder. When I called on Monday I got his voicemail and in the middle of leaving him a message to see if he was available to get together this weekend, I realized that he was in Toronto on a job interview (the job is in NYC, but they have headquarters in Toronto) and figured I wouldn't hear from him for a while.
Well, he just called. He did get the job (because I was smart enough to ask how the trip went) and...well...we have plans to get together this weekend. He's going to call me either tomorrow or Saturday and we're going to set some plans up to get together.
Holy shit...another date with SkiGuy...who would have thunk that would happen?
Well, he just called. He did get the job (because I was smart enough to ask how the trip went) and...well...we have plans to get together this weekend. He's going to call me either tomorrow or Saturday and we're going to set some plans up to get together.
Holy shit...another date with SkiGuy...who would have thunk that would happen?
The Sad Case of Caroline Dwyer
Well...Sour Bob is on the trail of Plagarist Aupair Caroline Dwyer and let me tell you something if he pulls through on his threat, then that bitch doesn't know what has hit her. If you don't believe me take a look here and relieve the good old days of another online plagarist and Sour Bob's course of action. Highly effective. If that one didn't work you can go here, there's even this one, and hell, you can even read another one, and, what the heck, there's this little tidbit to wrap the whole thing up.
Basically, what am I saying...this chick doesn't stand a chance in hell. She's got Sour Bob, Fish, Julia (who I don't really know but am becoming a rabid fan of)...and loads more all chomping at the bit to tie her to the back of a horse drawn carriage and crack the whip so she can be dragged naked through the streets for everyone to see.
Here's what I really don't understand. Blogging is almost like therapy for me. I get to talk about whatever I want, express whatever opinion I want free from persecution (well maybe not entirely free but hell, it's my site so I will say whatever the hell I want on it whether you like it or not), and basically just really say what I mean and feel without mincing words. There's something liberating about the whole blogging process and something unifying all at the same time. Blogging is all about self expression. The good, the bad, the inbetween...all of it relies on the individual's voice coming through and being heard whether it's by one person or the masses.
So why steal from others? I just don't get it.
Basically, what am I saying...this chick doesn't stand a chance in hell. She's got Sour Bob, Fish, Julia (who I don't really know but am becoming a rabid fan of)...and loads more all chomping at the bit to tie her to the back of a horse drawn carriage and crack the whip so she can be dragged naked through the streets for everyone to see.
Here's what I really don't understand. Blogging is almost like therapy for me. I get to talk about whatever I want, express whatever opinion I want free from persecution (well maybe not entirely free but hell, it's my site so I will say whatever the hell I want on it whether you like it or not), and basically just really say what I mean and feel without mincing words. There's something liberating about the whole blogging process and something unifying all at the same time. Blogging is all about self expression. The good, the bad, the inbetween...all of it relies on the individual's voice coming through and being heard whether it's by one person or the masses.
So why steal from others? I just don't get it.
Quote of the Day
On behalf of my countryfolk i'm going to have to ask you to disassociate pathological nut-job-ism with australianism.
Or, if you prefer, we can judge all Americans by your president.
-- johnboy on a comment thread found on Tequila Mockingbird talking about our favorite Aussie blogger who's about to get a major bitchslap...
Or, if you prefer, we can judge all Americans by your president.
-- johnboy on a comment thread found on Tequila Mockingbird talking about our favorite Aussie blogger who's about to get a major bitchslap...
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
I'm a...Hellcat???
I dunno how I feel about this.....but take the test yourself here and let me know how you do...
eXpressive: 6/10
Practical: 4/10
Physical: 4/10
Giver: 3/10
You are a XSIT--Expressive Sentimental Intellectual Taker. This makes you a Hellcat.
Yowza, you are fiery to be with. You're dynamic and volatile and a living roller coaster. You're also very attractive and immaculately groomed, so your target sex gets drawn in like a moth. You love the attention and never get tired of it. At a party you command attention, but you're a lightweight with alcohol and if you drink too much there can be trouble.
Like an XSYT, you tend to over-analyze things, so the slightest comment or action from your significant other can send you into a tailspin. Conflict with you can be either very productive or very dangerous. You are incapable of lying -- you have no guile -- and if your partner can't handle the truth, that's his/her problem, not yours. You are explosive when you're upset, but when the smoke clears you are right back on track with no ill will.
This is a highly effective way to resolve issues and keep them from brewing, but this can stun and hurt a partner with a more laid-back approach. You aren't angry later, but s/he might be. Make sure when you've gotten your satisfaction that your partner is satisfied as well!
You would never cheat. But combine your hot-blooded style with the fact that your partner is *attracted* to that style, and you've got a recipe for being cheated on. If you pair up with an X_YG (and that's not unlikely) you may get caught in his/her cycle of cheating. Make sure your partner feels appreciated and loved to balance out the fire of your approach to conflict.
If you're female, you're kind of like Evita or Teresa Heinz Kerry. I can't think of any famous men like this.
Of the 3010 people who have taken this quiz, 5 % are this type.
eXpressive: 6/10
Practical: 4/10
Physical: 4/10
Giver: 3/10
You are a XSIT--Expressive Sentimental Intellectual Taker. This makes you a Hellcat.
Yowza, you are fiery to be with. You're dynamic and volatile and a living roller coaster. You're also very attractive and immaculately groomed, so your target sex gets drawn in like a moth. You love the attention and never get tired of it. At a party you command attention, but you're a lightweight with alcohol and if you drink too much there can be trouble.
Like an XSYT, you tend to over-analyze things, so the slightest comment or action from your significant other can send you into a tailspin. Conflict with you can be either very productive or very dangerous. You are incapable of lying -- you have no guile -- and if your partner can't handle the truth, that's his/her problem, not yours. You are explosive when you're upset, but when the smoke clears you are right back on track with no ill will.
This is a highly effective way to resolve issues and keep them from brewing, but this can stun and hurt a partner with a more laid-back approach. You aren't angry later, but s/he might be. Make sure when you've gotten your satisfaction that your partner is satisfied as well!
You would never cheat. But combine your hot-blooded style with the fact that your partner is *attracted* to that style, and you've got a recipe for being cheated on. If you pair up with an X_YG (and that's not unlikely) you may get caught in his/her cycle of cheating. Make sure your partner feels appreciated and loved to balance out the fire of your approach to conflict.
If you're female, you're kind of like Evita or Teresa Heinz Kerry. I can't think of any famous men like this.
Of the 3010 people who have taken this quiz, 5 % are this type.
Practice Makes Perfect
Last night was rugby practice. Now, for the most part, my legs have been holding up and I've gradually added some more impact into practice so if I do wind up in a match, my body can withstand the hits and the pressure...you know the drill.
We started off with a tackling drill and, for the most part, I've been eschewing these drills as I know that I'm still not 100% (or close to 90% for that matter) and don't want to risk any extra injury that would make my third attempt at playing a season another loser. My first few rounds through the tackling drill had me taking some good hits and landing without much of a problem. A few of the newbies learned that I'm not an easy person to tackle as they had their hands way too high and couldn't bring me down. And of course, I wasn't trying to make it too easy on them.
We opted for one last run through before we broke for a water break and I was the first person to step up to put this guy through the gauntlet. His hands got a little too high and pretty much I was being shoved backwards and trying to maintain my balance all at the same time so I didn't injure both of us. Finally, after more struggle than necessary, he planted me on the ground and my head hit hard with a lovely sickening thud that made me black out for about a second. Trust me, not pretty, not fun, and surely not...well...something I would really want anyone else to go through. The newbie was overly apologetic but hell, it's happened before to me and will probably happen again.
I was able to make it through the rest of practice joining in on a few scrums helping the new guys learn where their heads and hands were supposed to go and then...surprise of all surprises, it was time for the end of practice fitness drills. Now, I know that my ability to run isn't that great. Knowing how I've done during the entire practice gives me an idea of how far I can go in sprits, if I can go at all. I knew that I was a little tender and after taking that huge hit to the ground earlier in practice, I opted to sit back and do my physical therapy exercises while they ran through their sprints.
At one point, I was talking to the formerly illegal (as in sexually illegal) newbie (who has now turned of legal age since he joined the team who I will call Legally Blonde for obvious reasons) as I was laying down and doing my leg lifts, crunches, and other exercises. Somehow the entire conversation took a flirty tone on his part (because trust me, eighteen year olds are not my thing) and then he took off running in his sprint. I just cracked up and went back to the crunches. Now for some reason, I was talked into taking part in the last sprint session which I gimped all the way through. As I made my way to the start line, I saw Legally Blonde massaging the shoulders of another teammate and I jokingly said to him, "Whoring around on me already? Slut."
Now, I didn't hear the first part of what he said but I did catch what he called me.
Daddy.
God...make me feel older than I already am....
And I haven't even turned 30 yet!
Daddy.
Geez.
To this I don't know what to say.
We started off with a tackling drill and, for the most part, I've been eschewing these drills as I know that I'm still not 100% (or close to 90% for that matter) and don't want to risk any extra injury that would make my third attempt at playing a season another loser. My first few rounds through the tackling drill had me taking some good hits and landing without much of a problem. A few of the newbies learned that I'm not an easy person to tackle as they had their hands way too high and couldn't bring me down. And of course, I wasn't trying to make it too easy on them.
We opted for one last run through before we broke for a water break and I was the first person to step up to put this guy through the gauntlet. His hands got a little too high and pretty much I was being shoved backwards and trying to maintain my balance all at the same time so I didn't injure both of us. Finally, after more struggle than necessary, he planted me on the ground and my head hit hard with a lovely sickening thud that made me black out for about a second. Trust me, not pretty, not fun, and surely not...well...something I would really want anyone else to go through. The newbie was overly apologetic but hell, it's happened before to me and will probably happen again.
I was able to make it through the rest of practice joining in on a few scrums helping the new guys learn where their heads and hands were supposed to go and then...surprise of all surprises, it was time for the end of practice fitness drills. Now, I know that my ability to run isn't that great. Knowing how I've done during the entire practice gives me an idea of how far I can go in sprits, if I can go at all. I knew that I was a little tender and after taking that huge hit to the ground earlier in practice, I opted to sit back and do my physical therapy exercises while they ran through their sprints.
At one point, I was talking to the formerly illegal (as in sexually illegal) newbie (who has now turned of legal age since he joined the team who I will call Legally Blonde for obvious reasons) as I was laying down and doing my leg lifts, crunches, and other exercises. Somehow the entire conversation took a flirty tone on his part (because trust me, eighteen year olds are not my thing) and then he took off running in his sprint. I just cracked up and went back to the crunches. Now for some reason, I was talked into taking part in the last sprint session which I gimped all the way through. As I made my way to the start line, I saw Legally Blonde massaging the shoulders of another teammate and I jokingly said to him, "Whoring around on me already? Slut."
Now, I didn't hear the first part of what he said but I did catch what he called me.
Daddy.
God...make me feel older than I already am....
And I haven't even turned 30 yet!
Daddy.
Geez.
To this I don't know what to say.
Quote of the Day
Lynne and I have a gay daughter, so it’s an issue our family is very familiar with. With the respect to the question of relationships, my general view is freedom means freedom for everyone. People ought to be free to enter into any kind of relationship they want to. The question that comes up with the issue of marriage is what kind of official sanction or approval is going to be granted by government? Historically, that’s been a relationship that has been handled by the states. The states have made that fundamental decision of what constitutes a marriage. -- Vice President Dick Cheney last night in Iowa making a clear break from President George Bush in his view on gay marriage.
The Lamest Thing I Have Ever Seen
I was doing my morning reading which always includes a stop by her when I saw
Apparently this stupid bizzitch decided that she had nothing better to do than to go and swipe an entire post off of Fish's site and post it on her own site (with just one small adjustment moving it from the office to a library).
(If you want a side-by-side comparison of the two then first click here to read the Fish version of it all and then you can go here and well...you're gonna read the exact same thing.)
Anyway...how much must you SUCK if you have to blatantly rip off something that someone else wrote. On their own site no less. Something that clearly isn't something that you wrote and is clearly not on the same writing level as yours, Ms. Emu, because, frankly, I read some of your site and it's not up to the snuff that Fish is putting out there. Hell, what I write isn't even Fish-worthy.
Anyway...give this chick some hell. When someone does shit like this to one of my friends, it really makes me want to see what the karmic backlash is gonna be...
P.S. Apparently, after reading some of Fish's comments on her recent plagerization, this chick is apparently so clueless as a writer that she's ripping off stuff from a lot of other people...including her own damn profile....so to those people I said weren't up to Fish's writing style...well it's only because I loves me Fishie so much that I must defend her honor at the drop of a hat....
Anyway...if you want to know more about Catherine Dwyer (Ms. Emu herself) then go here to where another site finally tracked down who was plagerizing them on the Emu site. I suggest we all go through her posts with a fine tooth comb. I'm sure we'll all be in there somewhere.
Apparently this stupid bizzitch decided that she had nothing better to do than to go and swipe an entire post off of Fish's site and post it on her own site (with just one small adjustment moving it from the office to a library).
(If you want a side-by-side comparison of the two then first click here to read the Fish version of it all and then you can go here and well...you're gonna read the exact same thing.)
Anyway...how much must you SUCK if you have to blatantly rip off something that someone else wrote. On their own site no less. Something that clearly isn't something that you wrote and is clearly not on the same writing level as yours, Ms. Emu, because, frankly, I read some of your site and it's not up to the snuff that Fish is putting out there. Hell, what I write isn't even Fish-worthy.
Anyway...give this chick some hell. When someone does shit like this to one of my friends, it really makes me want to see what the karmic backlash is gonna be...
P.S. Apparently, after reading some of Fish's comments on her recent plagerization, this chick is apparently so clueless as a writer that she's ripping off stuff from a lot of other people...including her own damn profile....so to those people I said weren't up to Fish's writing style...well it's only because I loves me Fishie so much that I must defend her honor at the drop of a hat....
Anyway...if you want to know more about Catherine Dwyer (Ms. Emu herself) then go here to where another site finally tracked down who was plagerizing them on the Emu site. I suggest we all go through her posts with a fine tooth comb. I'm sure we'll all be in there somewhere.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Quote of the Day
That's my new home number. Use it. -- Blast from the past SuitMan on the phone this afternoon.
Thud
Alexei Nemov.
I would lick him from head to toe.
And back down again.
Pausing in all of the very important body parts for extra attention.
I would lick him from head to toe.
And back down again.
Pausing in all of the very important body parts for extra attention.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Quote of the Day
It’s like going back and saying you saw a holding call in the third quarter of a football game that changed the result. There’s nothing you can do about it. -- Mike Avery, coach to Olympic champion Paul Hamm regarding the controversy surrounding his gold medal.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
It's rare that I cry...
...but today I did. For some reason watching Deena Kastor (I think that's how you spell her last name) sobbing uncontrollably as she made the last lap to win the bronze medal in the women's marathon at the Olympics today had me pretty choked up...I can't explain it...
Only three or four movies have ever made me cry (some of which may surprise you) but I dunno why this struck me beyond the fact that she had probably exceeded her own expectations and even when she was talking in her interview afterwards about how it wasn't just her out there but her coach, husband, family, etc...well...I was still crying...
Sigh...it's times like this that I get reminded that I'm human after all...
Only three or four movies have ever made me cry (some of which may surprise you) but I dunno why this struck me beyond the fact that she had probably exceeded her own expectations and even when she was talking in her interview afterwards about how it wasn't just her out there but her coach, husband, family, etc...well...I was still crying...
Sigh...it's times like this that I get reminded that I'm human after all...
Friday, August 20, 2004
The Return of SkiGuy
First and foremost, I have one my rugby teammates on bitchslap alert if I start to wax a little too poetic about SkiGuy so I'm covering all of the bases to keep me grounded a bit more than before.
Wednesday, I got together again with SkiGuy for the first time since February. We decided to start with drinks at Therapy and then, should the mood strike us, move on to dinner afterwards. Around 5:30, I got a call from him and I panicked for all of about three seconds thinking that he was cancelling on me for some reason but he was just alerting me to the fact that he was running a little late and I breathed a somewhat easy sigh of relief.
I got to the bar around 6:10 and sure enough he was already ordering his first drink(Stella Artois) while I, desperately needing something with a high amount of alcohol after the shitty day I was having opted for a Long Island Iced Tea. Now, not only are the drinks at Therapy rather large (it was perhaps the largest LIIT I had ever seen) but they are rather potent and after just half of the drink, I was already a wee bit lightheaded. Thank God I didn't ask that they substitute midori for the Coke otherwise I would have been shitfaced.
The best part of the night (well one of the best parts) was rediscovering how much I love actual conversation. SkiGuy is a master of it. On our first date we covered things from the Miss World Pageant to triple tax exempt mutual bonds and this time we hit religion, work, rugby, the Olympics and everything in between. And he gets so animated when he talks! The hands, the touching (he's apparently a very hands on talker) everything was pretty nice. Hell, I even got to see a little of his stomach as he made some comment about being fat (which trust me he's not) and he lifted up his shirt to pinch his imaginary stomach bulge.
We ultimately did decide to venture on to dinner which I took as a good sign and I introduced him to the world of McHales and their hamburgers. We both opted for a bacon cheeseburger with Monterrey Jack and split an appetizer of calamari. He had a great view of TV so he could watch the Olympics while I had a great view of him. He did offer me the chance to sit next to him in the booth but I immediately (and I don't know why to be honest) chose to sit across from him instead. The first thing that was on the Olympics was the shotput competition and SkiGuy made a comment about the relative attractiveness of the men on TV. I responded to that with a joking comment about "cruising other men when you're out with me" which was rewarded with a very nice compliment in my direction.
Conversation at dinner turned a little...well...shall we say...racy? Yes, we started talking about sex and I actually learned a little more about the history of SkiGuy. Turns out that he really didn't have sex with men...okay he was a virgin to the joys of man-man sex until he was 28. Actually, the best part came when he said that it was Robin Byrd that turned him gay as he actually called in to one of the phone lines advertised on her late night show. I won't go into the details (although they are rather amusing) but Robin Byrd helped him come out of the closet. And that alone cracked me up...but again the conversation side of the evening resumed and we talked about travel and trips we had taken, where we want to go, why gay men are really black women, and the fact that I own a kilt and have worn it on various occasions and what I have (and have not) worn underneath it.
After dinner, we were walking up to the subway so I could head back to Brooklyn and get some sleep. We talked about movies and theatre and everything as we walked.
"I'm stuffed. How about you?" he asked me...AS HE RUBBED MY STOMACH....
"Were you trying to feel me up?" I shot back, wondering what the answer would be.
"No..."
"Damn..." We both grinned over this exchange and he rubbed my stomach one more time and kinda moved a bit higher with his hands.
When we got to my subway stop we talked for a bit more and finally he looked and me and said, "I had a lot fun tonight." When I agreed that I had fun as well, he leaned it and gave me a short kiss on the lips. I didn't know what to do or say at that point so I just kinda stood there wondering if I should go in for more or perhaps just accept what I had and head to the subway. I did the latter and we laid the groundwork to get together again soon...
And I've been good about it too...I haven't called him since the date and if anything I'm going to hold off until tomorrow before I talk to him again...not to rush anything ya know...
SkiGuy...he's back...for now at least...
Wednesday, I got together again with SkiGuy for the first time since February. We decided to start with drinks at Therapy and then, should the mood strike us, move on to dinner afterwards. Around 5:30, I got a call from him and I panicked for all of about three seconds thinking that he was cancelling on me for some reason but he was just alerting me to the fact that he was running a little late and I breathed a somewhat easy sigh of relief.
I got to the bar around 6:10 and sure enough he was already ordering his first drink(Stella Artois) while I, desperately needing something with a high amount of alcohol after the shitty day I was having opted for a Long Island Iced Tea. Now, not only are the drinks at Therapy rather large (it was perhaps the largest LIIT I had ever seen) but they are rather potent and after just half of the drink, I was already a wee bit lightheaded. Thank God I didn't ask that they substitute midori for the Coke otherwise I would have been shitfaced.
The best part of the night (well one of the best parts) was rediscovering how much I love actual conversation. SkiGuy is a master of it. On our first date we covered things from the Miss World Pageant to triple tax exempt mutual bonds and this time we hit religion, work, rugby, the Olympics and everything in between. And he gets so animated when he talks! The hands, the touching (he's apparently a very hands on talker) everything was pretty nice. Hell, I even got to see a little of his stomach as he made some comment about being fat (which trust me he's not) and he lifted up his shirt to pinch his imaginary stomach bulge.
We ultimately did decide to venture on to dinner which I took as a good sign and I introduced him to the world of McHales and their hamburgers. We both opted for a bacon cheeseburger with Monterrey Jack and split an appetizer of calamari. He had a great view of TV so he could watch the Olympics while I had a great view of him. He did offer me the chance to sit next to him in the booth but I immediately (and I don't know why to be honest) chose to sit across from him instead. The first thing that was on the Olympics was the shotput competition and SkiGuy made a comment about the relative attractiveness of the men on TV. I responded to that with a joking comment about "cruising other men when you're out with me" which was rewarded with a very nice compliment in my direction.
Conversation at dinner turned a little...well...shall we say...racy? Yes, we started talking about sex and I actually learned a little more about the history of SkiGuy. Turns out that he really didn't have sex with men...okay he was a virgin to the joys of man-man sex until he was 28. Actually, the best part came when he said that it was Robin Byrd that turned him gay as he actually called in to one of the phone lines advertised on her late night show. I won't go into the details (although they are rather amusing) but Robin Byrd helped him come out of the closet. And that alone cracked me up...but again the conversation side of the evening resumed and we talked about travel and trips we had taken, where we want to go, why gay men are really black women, and the fact that I own a kilt and have worn it on various occasions and what I have (and have not) worn underneath it.
After dinner, we were walking up to the subway so I could head back to Brooklyn and get some sleep. We talked about movies and theatre and everything as we walked.
"I'm stuffed. How about you?" he asked me...AS HE RUBBED MY STOMACH....
"Were you trying to feel me up?" I shot back, wondering what the answer would be.
"No..."
"Damn..." We both grinned over this exchange and he rubbed my stomach one more time and kinda moved a bit higher with his hands.
When we got to my subway stop we talked for a bit more and finally he looked and me and said, "I had a lot fun tonight." When I agreed that I had fun as well, he leaned it and gave me a short kiss on the lips. I didn't know what to do or say at that point so I just kinda stood there wondering if I should go in for more or perhaps just accept what I had and head to the subway. I did the latter and we laid the groundwork to get together again soon...
And I've been good about it too...I haven't called him since the date and if anything I'm going to hold off until tomorrow before I talk to him again...not to rush anything ya know...
SkiGuy...he's back...for now at least...
Quote of the Day
Damn, you are good. -- A coworker to me as I showed her my new found love of domain masking to get around the firewall/internet filter.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
For once...a loss for words...
Well I was gonna blog about my date with SkiGuy but the bastards at the office implemented the new filter system on the internet so now I can't even check mail which really sucks...anyway...we'll talk about that later.....something came up tonight after rugby practice that must be discussed.....
One of my nearest and dearest friends (and former high school teacher) called and I got his message after practice saying he was in town and could we get together. Now I had planned to go home and chill after practice because it's been a long week and I really just needed the time to rest. However, since I haven't seen Murphy (yes, it's another fake name) in a while I decided that I needed to ditch the home plans and just head out with him. First and foremost for someone who turned 40 this year, he looks AMAZING....
But anyway...Murphy and Claude (his long term partner) were pretty much my sherpas as I was coming out and I really relied on them quite a bit to get through the initial personal acceptance and religious issues I had since I was raised Southern Baptist and of course that's just akin to 1) being black (since there was only one black family EVER to attend my family's church in Florida and 2) drinking or 3) having sex of any form...ANYWAY (I am digressing) these two were really pretty much a very integral transition phase for me.
Tonight, after meeting up with Murphy we did the obligatory, "Oh my, you look so good!" compliments (with Murphy telling me I look better now than I did in high school) he let it slip that he has a 28 year old boyfriend. I stopped and said, "Um...what happened to Claude?" Murphy's face dropped and I knew that something major had happened between the two of them. Pretty much they have been separated for about two years and they are working through their issues and trying to get back to the place they were not that long ago.
"You're disappointed, aren't you?" Murphy said looking me right in the eyes. I trotted out my standard line that I only want my friends to be happy and do what makes the happy. I might disagree with what they do or maybe not understand why they are doing what they are doing, but I will still support them.
Now that I've had a cab ride home to think about it, yeah maybe I am a little disappointed. Murphy and Claude were, for lack of a better term, my role models. Their relationship was exactly what I was looking for in a relationship (and for the record, pretty much still is...) so to hear that they had gone through a very severe rough patch was not what I wanted to hear. Yes, I know that all couples go through bad phases but to know that they had been split for about two years (and neither of them had told me in the many conversations we had had) was even more of what I didn't want to hear. While Murphy seems certain that at some point in time soon he and Claude will be back together, I myself am not that sure.
Now, I know, I know...there's really and truly not much I can do beyond offer support, moral or otherwise. However, I do know that what they are going through are the traditional relationship pains and, for the most part, it's all about how you deal with the issues when they arise. I still have faith in them pulling through although I do know that it's not going to be quick or easy. I guess it's somewhat refreshing though to know some truths as well before I get into a serious relationship so I know what not to duplicate.
But what I did say was true...I want them to be happy even if it means that they aren't together.
One of my nearest and dearest friends (and former high school teacher) called and I got his message after practice saying he was in town and could we get together. Now I had planned to go home and chill after practice because it's been a long week and I really just needed the time to rest. However, since I haven't seen Murphy (yes, it's another fake name) in a while I decided that I needed to ditch the home plans and just head out with him. First and foremost for someone who turned 40 this year, he looks AMAZING....
But anyway...Murphy and Claude (his long term partner) were pretty much my sherpas as I was coming out and I really relied on them quite a bit to get through the initial personal acceptance and religious issues I had since I was raised Southern Baptist and of course that's just akin to 1) being black (since there was only one black family EVER to attend my family's church in Florida and 2) drinking or 3) having sex of any form...ANYWAY (I am digressing) these two were really pretty much a very integral transition phase for me.
Tonight, after meeting up with Murphy we did the obligatory, "Oh my, you look so good!" compliments (with Murphy telling me I look better now than I did in high school) he let it slip that he has a 28 year old boyfriend. I stopped and said, "Um...what happened to Claude?" Murphy's face dropped and I knew that something major had happened between the two of them. Pretty much they have been separated for about two years and they are working through their issues and trying to get back to the place they were not that long ago.
"You're disappointed, aren't you?" Murphy said looking me right in the eyes. I trotted out my standard line that I only want my friends to be happy and do what makes the happy. I might disagree with what they do or maybe not understand why they are doing what they are doing, but I will still support them.
Now that I've had a cab ride home to think about it, yeah maybe I am a little disappointed. Murphy and Claude were, for lack of a better term, my role models. Their relationship was exactly what I was looking for in a relationship (and for the record, pretty much still is...) so to hear that they had gone through a very severe rough patch was not what I wanted to hear. Yes, I know that all couples go through bad phases but to know that they had been split for about two years (and neither of them had told me in the many conversations we had had) was even more of what I didn't want to hear. While Murphy seems certain that at some point in time soon he and Claude will be back together, I myself am not that sure.
Now, I know, I know...there's really and truly not much I can do beyond offer support, moral or otherwise. However, I do know that what they are going through are the traditional relationship pains and, for the most part, it's all about how you deal with the issues when they arise. I still have faith in them pulling through although I do know that it's not going to be quick or easy. I guess it's somewhat refreshing though to know some truths as well before I get into a serious relationship so I know what not to duplicate.
But what I did say was true...I want them to be happy even if it means that they aren't together.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Mp3 Blues
Okay, so I now own a brand spanking new MP3 player (no, it's not an iPod and don't tell me how great an iPod is and how everything else is crap because frankly, this one has been a piece of cake to operate, upload music, etc...and I paid $200 less for the iPod model that does the same thing).
ANYWAY.....
So I loaded in the music when I got it and was kinda upset to learn I still had 16.5GB to fill in...
This means I need music suggestions. Music to work out to...music to veg out to...just tell me what artist gets you pumped and going and I'll take it from there...come on people...make me proud...
I'm already adding in some Squirrel Nut Zippers and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy when I get home...added in some Diana Krall last night...
ANYWAY.....
So I loaded in the music when I got it and was kinda upset to learn I still had 16.5GB to fill in...
This means I need music suggestions. Music to work out to...music to veg out to...just tell me what artist gets you pumped and going and I'll take it from there...come on people...make me proud...
I'm already adding in some Squirrel Nut Zippers and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy when I get home...added in some Diana Krall last night...
Quote of the Day
I hate sports and love musical theater. I'm always singing Sweeney Todd in the car. Megan Mullally calls me the gayest straight man she's ever met. -- Eric McCormick from Will and Grace
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Swimmers bodies...
...have begun to make me physically ill. Not as much as gymnasts who are just mutants with incredibly upper body strength but swimmers have practically no body fat whatsoever.
One cheeseburger and Michael Phelps would probably explode.
Then again he probably has the metabolism of a fruit fly so by the time he's done eating the cheeseburger he's burned the calories off already.
Sigh...great...just what I need...body dysmorphia right before I go out on a date with SkiGuy tomorrow night...
One cheeseburger and Michael Phelps would probably explode.
Then again he probably has the metabolism of a fruit fly so by the time he's done eating the cheeseburger he's burned the calories off already.
Sigh...great...just what I need...body dysmorphia right before I go out on a date with SkiGuy tomorrow night...
You're dumber than you think I think you are.
Today my new coworker (the one I previously referenced as Amanda) told me she had a dentist appointment today. Really and truly, not a problem as I can handle the department on my own while she was at the appointment.
Then she told me the appointment was on 42nd Street and 3rd Avenue.
*cue lightbulb going off above my head*
Unless she really does have a dentist on that corner then it's just a little too much of a coincidence. You see, we have an office on that corner as well and apparently she was under the impression that I wasn't aware of their location. It's a special division of the bank that has to be at a separate address, yadda yadda yadda, insert arcane banking law here. And she's already made overtures (behind out backs) about returning to the department from whence she came (and they don't even want her back) and we kinda know she's not happy working in this department because 1) she's rather fake about everything she does and 2) you can just tell she's not happy...so either she was at a dentist appointment or she was at a job interview.
I voted job interview.
When she came back, I noticed there was no noticeable numbing from the anesthetic and she was talking normally unlike most people who take somewhat lispy after they've been numbed at the dentist. There she was just chatting away normally as if nothing was going on at all. Mind you, she told me before she left she was going in to have cavities filled (or something like that).
"So...that anesthesia must have worn off quickly." I casually mentioned about thirty minutes after she arrived.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I know for me it takes a good while to get full feeling back in my mouth and to be able to speak properly after I've been to the dentist."
She looked at me as if she had been poleaxed. That's all I needed to know.
She was interviewing.
Just call me Jessica Fletcher.
Then she told me the appointment was on 42nd Street and 3rd Avenue.
*cue lightbulb going off above my head*
Unless she really does have a dentist on that corner then it's just a little too much of a coincidence. You see, we have an office on that corner as well and apparently she was under the impression that I wasn't aware of their location. It's a special division of the bank that has to be at a separate address, yadda yadda yadda, insert arcane banking law here. And she's already made overtures (behind out backs) about returning to the department from whence she came (and they don't even want her back) and we kinda know she's not happy working in this department because 1) she's rather fake about everything she does and 2) you can just tell she's not happy...so either she was at a dentist appointment or she was at a job interview.
I voted job interview.
When she came back, I noticed there was no noticeable numbing from the anesthetic and she was talking normally unlike most people who take somewhat lispy after they've been numbed at the dentist. There she was just chatting away normally as if nothing was going on at all. Mind you, she told me before she left she was going in to have cavities filled (or something like that).
"So...that anesthesia must have worn off quickly." I casually mentioned about thirty minutes after she arrived.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I know for me it takes a good while to get full feeling back in my mouth and to be able to speak properly after I've been to the dentist."
She looked at me as if she had been poleaxed. That's all I needed to know.
She was interviewing.
Just call me Jessica Fletcher.
Quote of the Day
I guess she thinks Italian Brits who study Kabbalah do It best. -- A Madonna fan after the former "Material Girl" wore shirts that read "Kabbalists do it better" followed by "Italians do it better" followed by "Brits do it better." Personally, I thought the "Brits" meant Britneys but that just goes to show what I know...
Monday, August 16, 2004
Quote of the Day
It sounds like a weird old church song or something. -- Avril Lavigne on Clay Aiken's song "Invisible" -- which is exactly what I wish Clay Aiken would be come if you actually care...
Friday, August 13, 2004
Fire! Fire! Fire!
Is there a good reason why the Olympic torch reminds me of a penis???
Anyone? Anyone????
Anyone? Anyone????
Thursday, August 12, 2004
McGreevey Out...and then some
If you haven't seen this yet, then you apparently don't spend a lot of time on the internet at work like I do...just kidding, I think.
Anyway...when I first read this I thought that there was no way he should resign just because he's gay but then when I saw the affair part, I was like...hmmm....yeah, that could be a bit of a problem.
As long as the man is happy and at peace with who he is now that's all that can really matter. What sucks is that he had to come out so publicly which, of course, is never easy but now he has to live in that spotlight for quite some time and it will be revisited when he formally leaves office at the end of the month.
Of course, it also means that he's free to give me a call and set up a date but I doubt that's going to happen either. :)
Anyway...when I first read this I thought that there was no way he should resign just because he's gay but then when I saw the affair part, I was like...hmmm....yeah, that could be a bit of a problem.
As long as the man is happy and at peace with who he is now that's all that can really matter. What sucks is that he had to come out so publicly which, of course, is never easy but now he has to live in that spotlight for quite some time and it will be revisited when he formally leaves office at the end of the month.
Of course, it also means that he's free to give me a call and set up a date but I doubt that's going to happen either. :)
Things that go boom in the night
Last night it rained and thundered and rained and lightning'd (is that even a word?) and rained some more.
I had just left SkiGuy a message to see if he was available to do dinner this weekend and put down my cell phone when there was this massive boom that shook the entire building and I clearly heard the sound of crashing glass. Now, first and foremost, it was such a loud explosion it really did sound like a bomb had gone off. I personally just thought it was a really loud clap of thunder that would have made me crap my pants if I hadn't already taken care of that issue earlier in the evening.
I went out into the hall as Female Roommate came running out to check on the people in the apartment upstairs. I had thought the crashing glass was the breaking of the framed lithograph in the hall but it was still on the wall and not on the floor as I had expected. That's when I heard Female Roommate tell me that the window in the living room was broken. Male Roommate called out to her to check and make sure she was okay and there were a few small scratches on her shoulder and Male Roommate thought she had been singed by lightning. Apparently, he saw a huge flash of light come through the living room right as the explosion happened.
At this time, the upstairs apartment dwellers came down and we went back into our apartment where we saw chunks of brick scattered throughout the apartment. We thought at first that lightning had struck our building but then we realized that the steeple of the church behind us had been struck and subsequently exploded leaving a huge crater where the brick steeple had once been. A nice chunk of brick was sitting on the fire escape from where it had struck the window, the window screen had busted open, and we found four or five small piece of brick as far back as the roomies bedroom area (about 20 feet). Had Female Roommate been about four feet over on the couch, she would have been beaned in the back of the head with pieces of brick and glass.
The downstairs garden apartment people were outside and they had chunks of brick everywhere including one piece that was about eight or nine bricks still in one huge clump. I volunteered to venture onto the roof to make sure there was no damage and when I got up there (my first trip up to the roof) there were chunks and chunks of bricks all over our roof and the one next door. Thankfully our skylight was spared but the one next door had some serious cracks in it with piece of brick embedded in it. The garden next door had tables overturned and there was a huge slice taken out of a tree where chunks had obviously flown through.
When we got back downstairs, we got on the phone with the police to alert them to the situation at the church. We didn't know what other damage had occured there and we were all pretty much thankful that the huge (and I do mean HUGE) stained glass window didn't shatter during the explosion.
This all took about forty minutes from beginning to end and when I got back to my bedroom after we had all calmed down a bit I saw that SkiGuy had called back. We have a date for next Wednesday (he's out of town this weekend) for drinks and potentially dinner afterwards.
We shall see....lots of excitement for one night.
I had just left SkiGuy a message to see if he was available to do dinner this weekend and put down my cell phone when there was this massive boom that shook the entire building and I clearly heard the sound of crashing glass. Now, first and foremost, it was such a loud explosion it really did sound like a bomb had gone off. I personally just thought it was a really loud clap of thunder that would have made me crap my pants if I hadn't already taken care of that issue earlier in the evening.
I went out into the hall as Female Roommate came running out to check on the people in the apartment upstairs. I had thought the crashing glass was the breaking of the framed lithograph in the hall but it was still on the wall and not on the floor as I had expected. That's when I heard Female Roommate tell me that the window in the living room was broken. Male Roommate called out to her to check and make sure she was okay and there were a few small scratches on her shoulder and Male Roommate thought she had been singed by lightning. Apparently, he saw a huge flash of light come through the living room right as the explosion happened.
At this time, the upstairs apartment dwellers came down and we went back into our apartment where we saw chunks of brick scattered throughout the apartment. We thought at first that lightning had struck our building but then we realized that the steeple of the church behind us had been struck and subsequently exploded leaving a huge crater where the brick steeple had once been. A nice chunk of brick was sitting on the fire escape from where it had struck the window, the window screen had busted open, and we found four or five small piece of brick as far back as the roomies bedroom area (about 20 feet). Had Female Roommate been about four feet over on the couch, she would have been beaned in the back of the head with pieces of brick and glass.
The downstairs garden apartment people were outside and they had chunks of brick everywhere including one piece that was about eight or nine bricks still in one huge clump. I volunteered to venture onto the roof to make sure there was no damage and when I got up there (my first trip up to the roof) there were chunks and chunks of bricks all over our roof and the one next door. Thankfully our skylight was spared but the one next door had some serious cracks in it with piece of brick embedded in it. The garden next door had tables overturned and there was a huge slice taken out of a tree where chunks had obviously flown through.
When we got back downstairs, we got on the phone with the police to alert them to the situation at the church. We didn't know what other damage had occured there and we were all pretty much thankful that the huge (and I do mean HUGE) stained glass window didn't shatter during the explosion.
This all took about forty minutes from beginning to end and when I got back to my bedroom after we had all calmed down a bit I saw that SkiGuy had called back. We have a date for next Wednesday (he's out of town this weekend) for drinks and potentially dinner afterwards.
We shall see....lots of excitement for one night.
Quote of the Day
Well. That made for an exciting evening. -- My roommate last night. Details to come.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Drop trou, bend over, take it like a man
My boss just called me regarding my response to his email. For the record, my response went something like this...
Well I was going to take some time off around my birthday at the end of that first week but oh, what the hell, I really don't need to take time off when I can always help cover for yet another person that will be out of the office....
To give you an idea of what I meant by this, let's look at the summer vacation schedule for my department. For the sake of keeping everyone's identities a secret, we'll call my boss John, then there's psycho-somatic hypochondriac Gloria, and then there's the guy on the 37trh floor that I'm covering for this week named Jeff. Now, just remember, each week that they are our means that I have to cover their work...sounds like fun, right??? Additionally, there's a new employee well call Amanda that I have been training and really can't do the work on his own.
June 1-4 (was supposed to be taken off by me but I had to cancel out because my boss was out on family leave for two weeks as his wife had given birth which meant he was out through the 11th as well).
June 14 - 18 Jeff on jury duty.
June 28 - July 2 -- John taking more time off to be with the baby. (Amendment. I did take off ONE day on July 1 to move into my new apartment. I was back in the office the next day.)
July 5 - 16 -- Jeff out on his two week vacation
July 19 - 23 -- Training Amanda on the one week that I'm not running around doing someone else's job.
July 26 - August 6 -- Gloria is out.
August 9 - 13 -- Jeff is out again...this time on a cruise
August 16 - 20 -- John is out on his one week of vacation
August 23 - September 3 -- John is working in the New Jersey office in preparation for and during the Republican National Convention
September 6 - 10 -- I'm sure someone will find time to take off during this period. I'm sure Amanda will want to take some time off and, for all I know, here's her chance to get some in before I can think abotu doing anything.
September 13 - 24 -- John takes his two week vacation and I'm thoroughly entrenched in rugby until the middle of November which means that I don't get to take a single fucking day off to go anywhere because I want to be able to play this fall.
I have THIRTEEN DAYS of vacation still to take. THIRTEEN.
Let me say that one more time just to make sure that you are aware of what's going on...
THIRTEEN.
Mind you, Amanda has transferred in from another department and has her own fuckload of vacation days that she has yet to take as well which means that...well...I'm sure there will be times when I'm covering for her and someone else unless it gets planned well.
So back to the phone call with my boss....
"If you want to take the time off I'm sure we can work something out, Brian."
"That's okay, John. Just take the time off. I really don't care anymore. I'm used to getting fucked over by this place by now so it's really not a big deal."
"Well apparently it is to you."
"John. Just take the time off."
"No, what days were you looking to take off..."
"JUST TAKE THE TIME OFF. I DON'T CARE."
(Of course that's a lie. I do care but considering that I'm used to getting fucked over by this place and have told myself that I'm here to do a job and I'm leaving at 5:00 each day part of me really doesn't care.)
"Well I just don't want you to get screwed out of taking time off."
"John, it's a little late for that don't you think?"
Pause.
"Well, you gotta point there."
Well I was going to take some time off around my birthday at the end of that first week but oh, what the hell, I really don't need to take time off when I can always help cover for yet another person that will be out of the office....
To give you an idea of what I meant by this, let's look at the summer vacation schedule for my department. For the sake of keeping everyone's identities a secret, we'll call my boss John, then there's psycho-somatic hypochondriac Gloria, and then there's the guy on the 37trh floor that I'm covering for this week named Jeff. Now, just remember, each week that they are our means that I have to cover their work...sounds like fun, right??? Additionally, there's a new employee well call Amanda that I have been training and really can't do the work on his own.
June 1-4 (was supposed to be taken off by me but I had to cancel out because my boss was out on family leave for two weeks as his wife had given birth which meant he was out through the 11th as well).
June 14 - 18 Jeff on jury duty.
June 28 - July 2 -- John taking more time off to be with the baby. (Amendment. I did take off ONE day on July 1 to move into my new apartment. I was back in the office the next day.)
July 5 - 16 -- Jeff out on his two week vacation
July 19 - 23 -- Training Amanda on the one week that I'm not running around doing someone else's job.
July 26 - August 6 -- Gloria is out.
August 9 - 13 -- Jeff is out again...this time on a cruise
August 16 - 20 -- John is out on his one week of vacation
August 23 - September 3 -- John is working in the New Jersey office in preparation for and during the Republican National Convention
September 6 - 10 -- I'm sure someone will find time to take off during this period. I'm sure Amanda will want to take some time off and, for all I know, here's her chance to get some in before I can think abotu doing anything.
September 13 - 24 -- John takes his two week vacation and I'm thoroughly entrenched in rugby until the middle of November which means that I don't get to take a single fucking day off to go anywhere because I want to be able to play this fall.
I have THIRTEEN DAYS of vacation still to take. THIRTEEN.
Let me say that one more time just to make sure that you are aware of what's going on...
THIRTEEN.
Mind you, Amanda has transferred in from another department and has her own fuckload of vacation days that she has yet to take as well which means that...well...I'm sure there will be times when I'm covering for her and someone else unless it gets planned well.
So back to the phone call with my boss....
"If you want to take the time off I'm sure we can work something out, Brian."
"That's okay, John. Just take the time off. I really don't care anymore. I'm used to getting fucked over by this place by now so it's really not a big deal."
"Well apparently it is to you."
"John. Just take the time off."
"No, what days were you looking to take off..."
"JUST TAKE THE TIME OFF. I DON'T CARE."
(Of course that's a lie. I do care but considering that I'm used to getting fucked over by this place and have told myself that I'm here to do a job and I'm leaving at 5:00 each day part of me really doesn't care.)
"Well I just don't want you to get screwed out of taking time off."
"John, it's a little late for that don't you think?"
Pause.
"Well, you gotta point there."
Quote of the Day
Goddamn, cock sucking, mother fucking bastard! -- Yours truly, under my breath this morning upon learning that my boss had co-opted the vacation time I planned to take for my 30th birthday which means I have to work.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Tuesday is a Rugby Day
Tonight, I am strapping on the rugby boots for the first time in about four months and actively participating in my first rugby practice. Now, I'm not sure how much I will actually be able to accomplish or even complete but I'm going to go out there and do as much as I can. I have to be somewhat realistic in what I can and cannot do because, after all, I do want to be able to walk for the next forty to fifty years of my life.
What sucks is that I know that the tackling drills are going to be my downfall and they have been for the last two seasons. Last fall, I would get searing pains running down my legs during tackling drills and made it as far as the second match of the season before my doctor put the kabosh on me going much further without allowing my body time to recuperate and heal itself.
This spring it came back again and sent me into three months of physical therapy. I know I have a lot more thigh and knee strength than I did before (which is nice) but I am concerned about whether or not I may be doing more damage to myself by continuing to play.
One day at a time, I've told myself. One day at a time.
What sucks is that I know that the tackling drills are going to be my downfall and they have been for the last two seasons. Last fall, I would get searing pains running down my legs during tackling drills and made it as far as the second match of the season before my doctor put the kabosh on me going much further without allowing my body time to recuperate and heal itself.
This spring it came back again and sent me into three months of physical therapy. I know I have a lot more thigh and knee strength than I did before (which is nice) but I am concerned about whether or not I may be doing more damage to myself by continuing to play.
One day at a time, I've told myself. One day at a time.
Monday, August 09, 2004
Quote of the Day
Tribal sovereignty means that—it’s sovereignty. I mean, you’re a—you’re a—you’ve been given sovereignty and you’re viewed as a sovereign entity. -- President George W. Bush to a group of minority journalists responding to a question by a Native-American editor who asked "What do you think tribal sovereignty means in the 21st century?"
Friday, August 06, 2004
Quote of the Day
Whatever is not nailed down is mine. Whatever I can pry up is not nailed down. -- Collis P. Huntington
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Heavy is the head that wears the crown...
As some people know, my rugby team is bidding on hosting the 2006 Bingham CupI am chairing the bid committee and working out some of the logistics so we can put out a top notch bid proposal that will secure the games for our team.
The problem that I am having is, of course, that comes with being the committee chair -- you get a lot of unsolicited advice from people who have not been a part of any of the discussions. Mind you, we have asked the team for feedback on certain issues but not on the glut of comments and offers of help from people. Granted, I'm thankful for it, but if I actually had any hair left on my head it would have been ripped out by now.
Today's adventure came from a supporter of the team who had leads on some potential sponsors and I gave the go ahead (and documentation) to proceed. For the last month I've done nothing but request follow-ups, updates, something, anything to let me know where this stood. Mind you, he's not a member of the committee but he said he had the contacts so I trusted him to pull through and at least get me an answer. Part of me should have known better since the last time he offered to do something it was like pulling teeth to get a response from him. So, after the fourth or fifth email that went unanswered, I was pretty much ready to wash my hands of him. Given the time constraints we are working under, I needed those updates so I would know how to proceed going forward.
Well...after over a month since my initial email, I finally got an email back from him. Of course, in the email was nothing that he said he was going to work on and contains a litany of information regarding things that, for the most part, have already been decided (and not in his favor I might add) and are things, like I said before, he really, in my mind at least, shouldn't have been working on because it's not what he SAID he was going to work on...
I know, I know, I know...I should be grateful for the effort. I am. I am glad he's enthusiastic about this event and bringing it to New York. However, had I gotten timely email responses I could have steered him back on course instead of getting an overabundance of useless information that I really can't do much of anything about. To top it all off, I'm trying not to let my Southern roots show and try to find some balancing act where I thank him for his work but at the same time let him know that about 90% the information contained within his email had already been decided and set up prior to him getting back to me.
Yes, this means I'm trying hard not to pull a Julia Sugarbaker and say something about the night the lights went out in Georgia...
The problem that I am having is, of course, that comes with being the committee chair -- you get a lot of unsolicited advice from people who have not been a part of any of the discussions. Mind you, we have asked the team for feedback on certain issues but not on the glut of comments and offers of help from people. Granted, I'm thankful for it, but if I actually had any hair left on my head it would have been ripped out by now.
Today's adventure came from a supporter of the team who had leads on some potential sponsors and I gave the go ahead (and documentation) to proceed. For the last month I've done nothing but request follow-ups, updates, something, anything to let me know where this stood. Mind you, he's not a member of the committee but he said he had the contacts so I trusted him to pull through and at least get me an answer. Part of me should have known better since the last time he offered to do something it was like pulling teeth to get a response from him. So, after the fourth or fifth email that went unanswered, I was pretty much ready to wash my hands of him. Given the time constraints we are working under, I needed those updates so I would know how to proceed going forward.
Well...after over a month since my initial email, I finally got an email back from him. Of course, in the email was nothing that he said he was going to work on and contains a litany of information regarding things that, for the most part, have already been decided (and not in his favor I might add) and are things, like I said before, he really, in my mind at least, shouldn't have been working on because it's not what he SAID he was going to work on...
I know, I know, I know...I should be grateful for the effort. I am. I am glad he's enthusiastic about this event and bringing it to New York. However, had I gotten timely email responses I could have steered him back on course instead of getting an overabundance of useless information that I really can't do much of anything about. To top it all off, I'm trying not to let my Southern roots show and try to find some balancing act where I thank him for his work but at the same time let him know that about 90% the information contained within his email had already been decided and set up prior to him getting back to me.
Yes, this means I'm trying hard not to pull a Julia Sugarbaker and say something about the night the lights went out in Georgia...
Quote of the Day, II
Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we. -- President Bush while addressing the press at the signing of the $417 billion defense spending bill.
Quote of the Day
This year, however, for many of us the stakes have risen too high to sit this election out. -- Bruce Springsteen
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Identity Theft
Who knew someone else wanted to be the 646 Guy?
I got a call from my credit card company about some unusual charges that had been made on my one and only credit card I have remaining (which resides with my mother as I am working to pay it off and don't get it back until there's a zero balance).
Did you know that I currently own a nice flat screen TV and a 20GB IPod? And that I bought these things in Texas? Well I don't. The bastards who took off with my card info do...and to make it even better, they called my credit card company to get a line increase and decided that they were going to make a payment on my account as well from my bank account. Since they had all of the necessary info to get my credit card info, apparently they knew enough to trigger all the commands to get a payment from my checking account onto my card to give them some wiggle room.
What triggered it was the fact that the card has been dormant for some time (almost 2 years now) as I'm paying off the (now not-so) heinous amount I charged on it during my reckless youth and they just wanted to see if it was really me making these charges.
It wasn't. They've cancelled the card (thank God), my bank has been informed (although it is another $500 off of my balance but WAY more than I can afford to do especially as it fucked up my rent too...BASTARDS), and I've put more security coding in on my card to make sure that only I can make payments over the phone. This makes me want to bang my head on the desk until I pass out.
Now I just gotta wonder who is going to play me in the commercial of this incident...well do the voice at least...they've done the redneck, the geek, the ditz, the trailer trash woman, the slimey guy....maybe someone Eurotrashy for me...with a thick German accent...
At least I can keep my sense of humor about this...
I got a call from my credit card company about some unusual charges that had been made on my one and only credit card I have remaining (which resides with my mother as I am working to pay it off and don't get it back until there's a zero balance).
Did you know that I currently own a nice flat screen TV and a 20GB IPod? And that I bought these things in Texas? Well I don't. The bastards who took off with my card info do...and to make it even better, they called my credit card company to get a line increase and decided that they were going to make a payment on my account as well from my bank account. Since they had all of the necessary info to get my credit card info, apparently they knew enough to trigger all the commands to get a payment from my checking account onto my card to give them some wiggle room.
What triggered it was the fact that the card has been dormant for some time (almost 2 years now) as I'm paying off the (now not-so) heinous amount I charged on it during my reckless youth and they just wanted to see if it was really me making these charges.
It wasn't. They've cancelled the card (thank God), my bank has been informed (although it is another $500 off of my balance but WAY more than I can afford to do especially as it fucked up my rent too...BASTARDS), and I've put more security coding in on my card to make sure that only I can make payments over the phone. This makes me want to bang my head on the desk until I pass out.
Now I just gotta wonder who is going to play me in the commercial of this incident...well do the voice at least...they've done the redneck, the geek, the ditz, the trailer trash woman, the slimey guy....maybe someone Eurotrashy for me...with a thick German accent...
At least I can keep my sense of humor about this...
Quote of the Day
Maybe you should work on your issues of impulsiveness or something. -- Laura Bush in reference to her daughter Jenna who stuck her tongue out at reporters and photographers earlier this week.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Quote of the Day
A thousand things advance; nine hundred and ninety-nine retreat: that is progress. -- Henry Frederic Amiel
Monday, August 02, 2004
Orange...it's the new black....
So as you can see from the terror alert watch on his blog, while the rest of the country must exercise vague caution, we here in NYC and those lovely friends of ours in D.C. are Oompa Loompa Doobadee Screwed....
To show the lovely levels of heightened security we now have in NYC, I was on the subway this morning going to work when we got to one stop and instead of the doors closing right after letting the people on and off the train, the conductor (or engineer...who knows who really does the talking on these trains) said, "At this time, we would like for you to look around and see if there are any suspicious, unattended packages in your car and let the police outside know."
He said this twice which made me giggle a little and then of course when the kinda hot police officer came and took a look in our car, it kinda gave my morning a lift. It wasn't until I got to work that I realized that the stop where this all went on was the stop under the Citigroup Tower that has brought us up to Level Oompa...I mean Orange. Orange.
Of course as Crash astutely pointed out, they don't have us do this at the stop BEFORE just in case, they have us do it when we're right under the building. I have to say that should something have gone off while we were in the station, it would be just a wee bit too late, ya know...then again I guess they could have gotten off of the train at that stop and left it behind as well....but who knows...either way...Oompa Loompa...
To show the lovely levels of heightened security we now have in NYC, I was on the subway this morning going to work when we got to one stop and instead of the doors closing right after letting the people on and off the train, the conductor (or engineer...who knows who really does the talking on these trains) said, "At this time, we would like for you to look around and see if there are any suspicious, unattended packages in your car and let the police outside know."
He said this twice which made me giggle a little and then of course when the kinda hot police officer came and took a look in our car, it kinda gave my morning a lift. It wasn't until I got to work that I realized that the stop where this all went on was the stop under the Citigroup Tower that has brought us up to Level Oompa...I mean Orange. Orange.
Of course as Crash astutely pointed out, they don't have us do this at the stop BEFORE just in case, they have us do it when we're right under the building. I have to say that should something have gone off while we were in the station, it would be just a wee bit too late, ya know...then again I guess they could have gotten off of the train at that stop and left it behind as well....but who knows...either way...Oompa Loompa...
Quote of the Day
A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes. -- Hugh Downs
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